All Jean could focus on was how quiet it was.
Ever since she'd gotten here--to the future, not Mojoworld--everyone had been telling her what a great psychic she was. Some kind of prodigy. Professor Cyclops, Professor Kitty, Ms. Frost and her stupid little cuckoo not-daughters, everyone couldn't shut up about how great she was supposed to be. What's worse, she could hear them talk about how great she's supposed to be. Constantly. All the time, their thoughts just poured into her head like water into a pitcher. Professor Kitty had been doing her best to teach her how to work her psychic powers to stop things like that, and for the most part it had been steadily improving. But even when she wasn't trying to, Jean could still hear the thoughts of other people. She didn't like it (usually), and neither did anyone else (usually).
But she would have given anything to be able to hear the thoughts again.
The room was painfully still, the only sounds to be heard were the click-clacking of the six-armed woman's heels as she guided Jean to a large uncomfortable-looking chair that stood under the otherwise pitch-black room's sole light. She sat Jean down and held her with two sets of arms while the latter two fastened her in. The restraints were uncomfortably tight as they cut into her wrists. Once her hands were secured, the woman went to work on her feet.
Then came the helmet.
It was a weird thing. Not really a "helmet" per se, but some kind of headband-wire contraption. Jean's captor strapped it around her long red locks, pulling it until it squeezed her head obstructively, and then started fiddling with the wires. She placed one above each eyelid and stretched another around for the lower lids, the reeled them back in until Jean couldn't blink. Her green eyes, dialated by fear, shot across the room. Back and forth, unable to discern anything that could have potentially helped her out.
"What are you going to do to me?!" Jean yelped as the strain on her lids caused her eyes to water, "Wh-What is this?!"
"Too tight?" the woman asked nonchalantly, her voice a sultry purr, "Can't have that. You'll miss the show if your precious little eyelids rip."
The strain on her eyes did lighten slightly as her captor loosened the wires.
"Th-Thank you..." did she just thank the woman who attacked her team? The one who'd slapped this awful collar on her and held her captive for... God, how long had she been here? "What's going on?! What the hell even is this place?!"
"This is Mojoworld. That was Mojo. I'm Spiral. And you're the biggest thing to hit Mojoworld since Deadpool." the woman stated matter-of-factly, "You'll probably get the gist of this, but I work for Mojo. And now, so do you. You're going to star in a new lighter-and-softer TV show that'll air after some documentary about a bunch of kids killing each other to keep things balanced out."
"Wh-What...?" Jean stared stupidly in front of her, the power-dampening collar restricting her neck movements
"You haven't heard of it? Strange. It was filmed on your Earth. It had that girl. The Angel's new girlfriend--Little Wolverine." Spiral said idly as she fiddled with some remote, "X-23, that's it."
"You... you watch that kind of stuff?"
Jean wasn't there in Murderworld (a little before her time) but she had some vague idea of what went down inside it. Laura--X-23--had some nasty memories of what happened there. Ones that stood out against her already particularly nasty memories. People... teenagers, some no older than herself, died in horrible, awful ways. What kind of time--what kind of world was she on where people watched that kind of thing for fun?
"Well, not yet. I have it set to record." Spiral shrugged as the lights dimmed, "Normally I try not to watch too much Mojovision. Rots the brain. But I make an occasional exception for programs that... interest me."
Before Jean's unblinking eyes, a television screen appeared as if from nowhere. Back where she came from, in her time, an eighteen inch was considered big. This was a theatre-grade monstrosity, bigger than Jean could have really fathomed. And it suddenly just came to life with a big flash of white light. She couldn't look away--everywhere her eyes could go, some portion of the screen remained visible. She was going to be forced to watch... something. Something awful, judging by the look on Spiral's face before she turned around.
"Welcome to Mojoworld, Precious." Spiral snorted, "This is what those fat slobs call entertainment. Better buckle up."
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