At this point, Selina keeps her eyes open, letting the feeling go over her as she felt the strange detachment from reality. Thoughts of what other kinds of contact would make this experience even stranger ran through her mind as she stared into it all, wondering how it would be to be hugging someone, kissing... other such things of increasing intimacy. As odd as this was... it was almost pleasant in a way, to feel detached from everything around her but that one point on her hand.
It's not really one point, though - it's a whole lot. You can sort of tell it's your hand by the way it's constantly stimulated, and the way you altering your grip also changes the impulses a little. Only way you can map it, really, since each point of reception is so distant from all others, it is like they exist in a universe all of their own. There's also other things you feel, but these are a little more unclear. A particular bit of interest is a set of points pulsing rhythmically, about every three seconds or so. You're pretty sure that's not your heartbeat, and you don't really have a particularly good idea what else it might be, and that's a tad bit perplexing.
What's even stranger is that considering various ideas of what you could possibly do right now, which your mind springs to rather easily from here, immediately lead you to notice that imagining things appears to set off new points of reception on your body, the impulses being at first more intense, but then adapting slowly. What's more, a little bit of testing appears to confirm that it is indeed your imagination doing this as you move on to thinking of... different things would be the way to put it.
Kyle nods and starts heading for the car.
"Is it odd to get a bad feeling about things?"
"Not really," says the guy. "People get bad feelings around me all the time."
That's most certainly not ominous, you think, but get in the car anyway. About its interior you can say no more than that it is indeed a car. It's even got one of those pine air fresheners.
"Right, so, if I remember it right," the man speaks as he starts the car, "the nearest hospital was... someplace on Baker?"
He looks slightly nervous, you realize.
"Yeah, somewhere around there."
You become slightly nervous as well as the two of you drive off over to the nearest hospital. About its exterior you can say little more than that it does indeed look a bit like a hospital. A perfect example of nondescript modern urban architecture, with its blocky shape and weathered look. Probably long overdue for a remodeling, just like a lot of other things around this place. On the way you discover that this guy's name is Todd, and that he's apparently sort of a writer. He's a bit vague on that. You don't feel any less nervous due to this. Something about him just feels a little strange, you decide. At any rate, you manage to get to the hospital without incident, and then you get admitted to the ER, and Todd insists on being there with you. Says he's concerned for your well-being, plus, since you can't remember anything, it'd probably be really shitty of him to leave you out of the loop.
Now, though, you wonder what exactly you'd like to tell the physician examining you. There's no real sign of trauma on you aside from a mostly healed gunshot wound.
"Aww... superboring. Hey are you gonna kill someone or do I have to do it for you?" As he calms down, Carrie is getting more and more irritated.
He seems like a very chill dude right now. Totally not up for revenge, that's for sure. He just raises his eyebrow at you and then looks away dismissively.
Then again, does it really matter all that much? This guy's a tosspot, and the Project Ed people are tosspots, you're fairly sure, and even if he tries something, it's probably going to wind up being good for a short laugh and little more. Why even bother? You think you spotted some of your classmates in the crowd a while ago. Maybe you can go and check.
You jump out of your body and the fuzzy feeling of not needing to bother overmuch disappears in a moment. Huh. Guess you need to be a bit more vigilant. At any rate, you do find Miss James and Miss Malloy in the crowd. In addition, you notice that a bunch of people are heading into the stadium, the police included. The next phase of the party may be beginning.
Alex would attempt to force the lightning to shock the woman. Honestly, he just wanted to know if it worked
It does not for some reason, which you find a bit strange.
"This is pretty freaky," she says, staring at you. "Do you know what's happening?"
Her voice trembles lightly, and you feel a slight tremble of the ground along with it.
"Hmmm, is that Ilo or One-Eighty?"
Watch the proceedings.
The guy, who seems huge enough and undisguised enough to not be either of your first guesses, to say nothing of One-Eighty being a lady as far as you know, looks to be just your average Joe. A little pudgy, balding. Scariest thing about him is him being ten meters tall, that's for sure. Otherwise perfectly harmless-looking. Probably a data entry drone out looking for adventure, which he seems to not be finding on the stadium.
Behind him, though, about two minutes behind, to be precise, seem to be a few Eddites, looking altogether more purposeful, pushing a cart with a large cardboard box in it toward the center of the field. They look pretty pleased with themselves, which you can't really fault them for. The police are probably neutralized already. That's cool, you guess.
"Hey, the party really is starting," your companion says. "That's probably the main event they have in there."
As they unpack the box, you tend to agree. In the middle of the vast amount of packing peanuts there seems to be one of Ilo's funspheres, pretty big one at that. As in, it's about five meters in diameter, about half the height of the nearest Eddite. Pretty cool.
You notice that the whole hugeness effect is becoming a little more selective. People seem to be more affected, surrounding things a little less. It's particularly apparent when you observe your companion, who barely fits into the room anymore, and your mind evidently is having trouble recontextualizing how he seems to be drinking his vodka, as you can't even see the glass, although you notice the alcohol materializing in his mouth, looking like enough to fill a barrel.