Snippet #1443914

Visions of needles and hoses flashed through Nightshade's mind. He knew firsthand what his employers would do to someone if they thought it would work. They'd tried to simply hook him up to an intake/outtake system and ordered him to produce chemicals. Instead, he poisoned everything and they soon gave up. Nighshade shuddered a bit, but looked at the Director again.

"Sir, I would be willing to help, but I should probably warn you that I have limits on what I can and can't do. What you're probably most concerned about is my ability, not my safety, so I believe it prudent to inform you that I can only brew a substance that I've personally experienced. This "psychic steroid" is extremely theoretical, and the feasibility of it is...weak, at best. I could probably custom tailor a counter-toxin to mutants to combat the tolls their powers take on their bodies, but it would be time consuming and dangerous."

The Director made no move to dismiss him, he simply stared at the nervous boy, waiting for him to elaborate. Nightshade shifted his weight a bit, now wishing he'd sat when the Director had offered him a seat. It would look like a terrible weakness to do so now. He decided to explain the science behind what he was proposing was a double edged sword, albeit as simply as he could manage. It boiled down to if the mutant in question took too much of a dose, he'd OD and his brain would melt. Too little, and it wouldn't be effective. The only way to find out how much is too much was to test it on each mutant individually, as some have higher tolerance to various things than others. He'd have to personally oversee the dosages and production of the CT, as well as watch for any other side effects he didn't predict.

When Nightshade finished explaining, the Director seemed less...pleasant. He mulled it over for a while, making Nightshade extremely nervous.