[OPEN]

[cerebral]

Who: Charles Xavier & you.
What: Open post. Feel free to throw your characters at him.
Where: Mog Hill & Mafaton or somewhere in the central area of the city that your character is likely to bump into him.
When: Veerdi afternoon and evening.
Notes: None.
Warnings:  None.

With no afternoon appointments and no one needing his immediate help at the Glory Shada (he is a counselor, after all, and they tend to keep more regular hours), Charles decides to slip away from work early in order to window shop around the city. It's mostly to look at furniture and other essential household items, although bookshops and strange trinkets inevitably end up catching his eye. Every so often he can be seen in shops, snapping pictures on his CiD, enquiring after prices and how long someone will be able to keep a reservation. Occasionally he'll wander into a cafe for coffee or tea on the go, more to warm up on a chilly Ruundary than anything else.

While walking, he lets his mind idle around, picking up and sifting through passing thoughts as he goes. Despite some friendly warnings to be cautious and his own recent encounters with the unforeseen forces of Baedal, he really can't help himself at times.

Comments

[cerebral]

He watches the book shoving bemusedly. "It's all right, I left my professor hat at home today." Even Charles needs his Friday/Veerdi evenings to unwind.

"I should let you get on with it, though." And he gives a little nod, which suggests he'll leave her in peace if needs be.

[cerebral]

"I'm guessing a considerable period of time from the mid-twentieth century, at any rate." That's deliberately tongue-in-cheek, but it's directed towards how surreal the circumstances are rather than Will's expsense.

"But points in time may be something consider as well." He gives a little exasperated gesture at a random plate. "At least I'm sure there's a pattern somewhere."

[cerebral]

"Boredom is the root of all evil, the despairing refusal to be oneself," Charles recites as the other man makes up his mind. "Something Søren Kierkegaard once said."

Then, as if reciting the categories of a quiz, "Science, literature, history, psychology, philosophy. Or, alternatively, the fair city that we are currently forced to inhabit. I'm afraid that's all I can offer right now." He's not about to use his powers to skip the queue, sadly.

[cerebral]

"I'm from the mid-twentieth century —1962, to be precise." A long time ago for some, but not really in the grand scheme of things. "John F. Kennedy is the President of the United States, we have motorised vehicles, space technology and Marilyn Monroe passed away not that long ago, God rest her soul."

He was a fan, okay. Not that he's had much time to dwell on pop culture; he was out gathering mutants and forming a team to prevent World War III. And speaking of which, "Superheroes?" That piques his interest. "Super powered, or...?"

[controlledvariable]

"I'm 2011," sometimes it doesn't matter how specific she is, but she figures Charles might be more interested in knowing she's close-ish to his time, "Uh, if you get back home at some point, tell Kennedy not to go to Texas."

This is why Steph shouldn't time travel.

"Yeah, we've got aliens, meta-humans, people with magic, people with devices that give them assorted powers, um..." she's mentally sorting through the people she knows as she tries to make sure she's got everything - Supergirl, Black Canary, Klarion, Stargirl and then she thinks of Cassie and adds, "Oh, and gods. Plus there's just regular people who dress up in costume and go fight crime."

She manages to sound so mocking for someone who does the same thing.

[charismatic]

Will considers it, weight shifting thoughtfully. “Has anyone ever tried plotting it out?” he says. That's probably a major undertaking, considering the amount of people in the city, but maybe it would help clarify... everything. Why they're here, how it happens. Why them.

[andyoullmissit]

"Good famous," she promises. "I won't give you any details if you don't want, but definitely good famous." More for what he inspired than for what he actually got to do, but her world had few enough bright spots.

[magnetic]

"Yes, I had noticed that as well. It's true for this cohort, at least." And probably others. However many there are. It does not take much for Erik's train of thought to go sliding down a certain slope, and oh, there it goes, and the all-too-frequent sobriety begins its triumphant return to his mien. "It makes sense. A less predictable crowd would be more difficult to manage, if only due to basic psychological differences... not to mention physiological aspects. Compared to some species kept here, humans in particular are easy to control."

[cerebral]

"And you think what exactly? That we were caught up in the inter-dimensional cross-fire?" 'We,' of course, meaning them specifically or the xenian population in general. Charles can see where this train of thought leads; it's one they've been down many times before. Don't mind him as he gently finds a way to prod a hole in this logic.

[magnetic]

"Not necessarily." Maybe. "I don't presume to know the designs of whomever's in charge of this place... but if the general idea is to create a mostly humanoid...colony, or zoo, or whatever the hell is going on here, it makes sense that a large number of the subjects should be human. We could be here by accident, yes, but more likely for some other reason. Variety, perhaps." Because this is probably some kind of hideous experiment. And he hates it.

He kicks at one of those ubiquitous little stones during one of his strides.

[cerebral]

A hand goes up to rest on Erik's shoulder. Ever since his initial panic and the consequences of his admittedly foolish actions had died down, Charles' thoughts had returned to worrying about everyone else. Erik gets extra, as always.

"Who can say." And he looks at him side-on. "It's beyond frustrating." But probably worse for his friend.

And after another little beat, his hand drops once more down to his side. "All we can do is wait and see if they'll reveal a weak spot. In the meantime, I think I'd like to go about leveling the playing field for others." He shoots him a little look that clearly states 'interested'?

[magnetic]

That is absolutely not all they can do, as far as Erik is concerned, and it's not even the least of what he intends to do. He has no solid plan at the moment, no—he's not even sure how he will ultimately take advantage of his new role as deputy; securing a safer position is simply instinct—but waiting around is unthinkable.
The hand on his shoulder doesn't make Erik feel any better about this, but it does, as usual, bring him back to the present moment. (He could stand to be centered more often.)

That aside... these two certainly are full of oblique glances today, aren't they. "What did you have in mind?"

[cerebral]

"I'm not entirely sure. A place, I suppose. A safe place. Originally I'd thought of a school, but most of the people brought to our cohort seem to be adults. Legally, anyway." Charles' ideas have been formulating for a long time, but it's clear he wants someone to hit them off. He is, as ever, a diplomatic and eloquent speaker. Still, he knows he doesn't have to be when he's with Erik, and so his friend might hear some of the emotion, the frustration, resonating within his voice.

"I am so tired of seeing cohort members struggling to survive when they come here. There are monsters everywhere in this city, inside and out. Tommy and Billy were, and I don't want to make light of what happened to them, lucky. They have family. But what about the ones who don't?" The concern in his expression is more than palpable. "And what about the ones who didn't have it easy before they came here? Or the ones who have discrimination levied against them? I think about Raven, or Alex or Sean, arriving here without us, and I won't lie —it scares me."

[supersonic]

He tilts his head to the side in a noncomittal gesture, though not unkindly. A useless bunch, existentialists, in his opinion, but the quote resonates – more than he'd like to think about – and the act of tossing around quotes reminds him fondly of someone, just slightly. (...The person he's speaking to, in fact, though the image in his head is quite different.)

"Our gilded cage, then." Not one to mince words, apparently, nor worry about being deemed a 'Stranger,' or whatever it is they call it here. "I have only just arrived in it. Is everyone here so insufferably complacent?" with a nod to the city at large.

[cerebral]

Interestingly enough, 'gilded cage' is a phrase Charles has heard thrown about a lot in the past month, from one particular friend (no prizes for guessing who). That's the second small, unsettlingly familiar glitch in this conversation.

"Not everyone, no." There's a pause while he scans out the vicinity once again, but his voice drops slightly as he speaks anyway. "I'm assuming you're a member of the CeidaryBlue523 network?"

[cerebral]

His mouth quirks up in a thoughtful little smile. "That's all I need to know." Charles may be determined to the point of error with his own ability and his goals (the word arrogant has been thrown around) but he still has moments of doubt. Especially lately, on meeting people from possible futures. It's nice to have some reassurance.

[cerebral]

"I imagine so, but if it has been undertaken, it's likely it to be someone from one of the older cohorts. I can't be sure in a city this size." Although he'll keep looking or devise something of his own, perhaps. He's as keen to have those questions answered as anyone else.

[cerebral]

Don't break the Prime Directive, Steph.

Charles looks...slightly astonished by that rather long and varied list. But it also puts him at ease enough to mention, "I think my world may be heading down that path. At least where people with extraordinary abilities are concerned. It's not like that right now, but I've met people from various alternate futures."

[controlledvariable]

She's thinking in superhero identies for everyone who has one -- Cassie never bothered.

"It seems to be a fairly common theme, I've met people from a few different worls who have their variation of metahumans, which lends some credence to the idea we might have been brought to Baedal for a reason," If they're supposed to do something here,it makes sense they'd bring more powered people. She'd have kidnapped the entire JLA. She's also absently wondering if the percentage population of Xenian's here is bigger than the metahuman population back home, "I guess it just differs how the rest of the world reacts to them."

[andyoullmissit]

She considers him a moment, then says, "So what have you been doing since you got here?" She feels that's safe ground, and she won't be tempted to draw comparisons with her own world that way.

[magnetic]

"Raven would have managed." Not to contradict him, of course. There's no contention in Erik's reply; he answers quietly. "She took it well. Coming here." He does not mention the twins aloud, no, but remembers Brock's laughing face from the network, and feels once more the impulse to go running off right now. To find him. And.
And this is too grim a train of thought to follow in the face of an idea that throws sparks as it lands. He didn't always have the tendency to catch fire in the wrong places...

He kicks that same pebble once they reach it—over to Charles's side of the walk, this time, well ahead.

"It's too bad you didn't bring your house along instead of that chess board."

...Erik. Really.

[cerebral]

"I know." He does. But it doesn't help the feeling —okay, the knowledge— that he's taken his sister for granted lately. Especially now with the sinking 'what if' that he might never see her again. It's interesting how that only happens after someone is gone.

"I don't think it would have fit in the arrival room." And Erik gets the most sardonic look that Charles can muster right now.

He looks ahead for a while, before reaching where the pebble landed and kicking it back in Erik's direction. "But I can still do something about it." He may not be quite as radical in his approach, but his motivations still stem from mutant (or xenian) advocacy and an inability to accept the situation at hand.

[magnetic]

He accepts this statement with a nod at the same time that he doubts it, and as the pair of them walk, Erik with his hands in his pockets and his eyes on the approaching stone, the absurdity of it strikes him. It's funny, being caught in a place between fatalism and single-mindedness. Strange to be mindful of futility and opportunity, both.

He kicks the pebble into the street.

"Whatever we settle on, we'll need to be careful about it. If the Militia perceives this undertaking as a threat, they will not hesitate to come down on it, on us, like a hammer. And they'll do it with no warning." Trust him to be ready for a fight at all times.

[charismatic]

Will nods, slowly. Maybe he should look into that. Do some digging. It makes sense that people who have been here longer would have a better handle on it. “There are so many different kinds of people here,” he says after a moment. “It's a bit boggling.”

[cerebral]

"Oh, I have no doubt about that." He watches the pebble skiff away into the street. And, because this is a very sombre subject and his friend is already sombre enough, a thought occurs to him. He stops and stoops over to pick a stick up out of the gutter and turns it over in both hands.

"It's funny. We can look at this and we see, what? Something that used to belong to a tree. But other than that, it's pointless. You can't make it into anything. It's not evern worthwhile firewood. But," and he holds it firmly by one end, "If you show it to a child, it becomes a sword."

And ta-da, it suddenly appears as a small, wooden toy. "Or a magic wand." This time it seems to become a gnarled looking, archaic staff, with little star-sparks flying off. See Erik, isn't this much more neat? Although this distraction actually has a point, don't worry.