[Carlisle's energies are still unbalanced, skittering frenetically beneath his skin. It feels like a dozen, contrasting sensations all at once, each focused on a different part of his body: tingling, searing, prickling, throbbing, freezing, aching. None of it lines up, made even worse by the outburst he just weathered through; even standing still, he is experiencing a burdening discordance, one that makes it nearly impossibly to think clearly. It's a miracle he is in control of himself at all.

Perhaps he will one day come to appreciate his marvelous ability to maintain his consciousness and stifle out the raucous distraction of the wild magic that keeps him animated, but for now, it's still a bit much to deal with on top of Qubit's clear disinterest in talking about... well, all this.]

I was hoping you would tell me without my having to ask.

[Carlisle does his best to keep his tone steady, impassive as he offers Qubit a chance to tell him something, anything.]

I advise you -- politely -- to not insist this is nothing, Mister Qubit.