Who: Michael Guerin What: Exploring Where: Third Floor When: Day One Warnings: Nah Status: OPEN
Michael had a bad feeling about this place. Of course he did. It was a freaking haunted house! He had no idea how he'd ended up here. Sure, he was an expert mechanic, and he had a genius IQ, but he didn't really think that meant he was qualified to expel ghosts or whatever from a haunted mansion. The note from Reginald T Castairs was a joke. He went to the door, what looked like the front door to leave the house. It wouldn't budge. He tried to throw a kenetic blast at it, nothing happened.
Michael curled his upper lip in a sneer. He was pissed. And rightfully so. So why weren't things flying? He wasn't doing anything to try and temper his telekensis. As annoyed as he was, as pissed as he was that the damn door wouldn't open, the whole damn house should be trembling. Nothing was happening. He thrust his arm out, jerked his wrist, tried to focus his energy. Still nothing. Absofuckinglutely nothing was happening, except some muscle spasms from the strain he was exerting. His telekensis wasn't working. At all. There wasn't even a hint of it. He didn't feel the buzz of electric energy he felt when he used his power. The effort to try and use it was exhausting, but not in the same way. He was...utterly powerless.
He had no idea what to do with that. His telekensis had never failed to work. The only way he knew to make it dormant was Liz's serum, though he hadn't used it. They'd used it on Isobel. Not him. Never him. He dropped his arm, only to raise it back up and try again. Still nothing, but the frustration of powerlessness. "Why would you bring me here and take away the one thing I have that can help?" he snarled at the note he held in his hand. "It's bullshit. It's all god damn bullshit." He crumpled the note and tossed it to the floor. It didn't tell him anything useful anyway.
Michael turned from the doors and stomped up the main stairs. Maybe there would be something up there he could use. He ended up on the third floor, in a room that had two queen sized beds and a couch. It looked like some kind of dressing room. Whatever. He needed a place to chill out for a few minutes, so he dropped onto the couch and sighed.