[Carlisle nods, as Qubit has a point. As he looks at the pieces of the ruined communicator, he can't help but focus more on the parallels between their respective abilities. However unique they may be from one another, the two of them undoubtedly have equal potential for both good and bad. Qubit can either fix the machinery of Anchor, making the colony more hospitable for everyone trapped there, or he can destroy it with a mere thought. He could obliterate the network, twist the generators until they can no longer maintain the life-support systems that are apparently vital for survival in the wasteland.
Carlisle's own powers are much the same: he can easily reach into someone and use his energies to mend their physical wounds, restoring their body to its peak. However, on the other side of the coin... well, he's seen first-hand what his magic can do to those around him. The decay he leaves behind in moments of duress is evidence enough, if the withered corpses and desecrated landscape of Bear Den were not.]
Ah. That is a burden all talented magicians bear. Or, er. Psionics, I suppose. Whatever the collected term is for them. There is a great deal of responsibility in keeping your energies under control, as what you could do should you lose your grip upon them would be... [He shakes his head — it's a minute movement, unintentional, but one visible enough to someone as observant as Qubit.] Catastrophic, to put it lightly.
[Though he does his best to mask it, Carlisle speaks like someone who knows exactly what kind of catastrophe that would be. He's sure Qubit knows, as well — or the Qubit he knew would, at least.]
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Carlisle's own powers are much the same: he can easily reach into someone and use his energies to mend their physical wounds, restoring their body to its peak. However, on the other side of the coin... well, he's seen first-hand what his magic can do to those around him. The decay he leaves behind in moments of duress is evidence enough, if the withered corpses and desecrated landscape of Bear Den were not.]
Ah. That is a burden all talented magicians bear. Or, er. Psionics, I suppose. Whatever the collected term is for them. There is a great deal of responsibility in keeping your energies under control, as what you could do should you lose your grip upon them would be... [He shakes his head — it's a minute movement, unintentional, but one visible enough to someone as observant as Qubit.] Catastrophic, to put it lightly.
[Though he does his best to mask it, Carlisle speaks like someone who knows exactly what kind of catastrophe that would be. He's sure Qubit knows, as well — or the Qubit he knew would, at least.]