[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

[supersonic]

One downside of believing himself to be better than everyone is, Pietro does tend to underestimate the reach of his enemies (or potential enemies, as the case may be), but he follows Charles's lead at least in terms of adopting a less conspicuous posture.

"I am." A raised eyebrow, for you. "You as well?"

[cerebral]

"Oh, I'm working as a genetics counselor at the Glory Shada. It's, um --in our world, the term is usually applied to hereditary conditions and diseases, but people's ancestry has a lot more variety here. Traits and abilities can skip a generation, and then there's children from inter-species marriage. Either way, I'm there to help people navigate uncharted territory." Not completely dissimilar to what he's been doing in his own world, or will continue to do. But with more magic and variety! At least it keeps him on his toes.

[andyoullmissit]

"That sounds interesting. Help in what way exactly?" When she thinks 'geneticist,' she thinks of... well, she thinks of McCoy, mainly, which leads her nowhere good, so generally she just doesn't.

[magnetic]

Erik stops too, of course, to see over his shoulder what Charles may be up to, and turns to face him after a moment's delay. The display does seem gratuitous at first, but he has not known Charles to do much of anything without making some sort of point—and he's entertained by it, besides, in his own subdued way. Witnessing other mutants' abilities can no longer be called a novelty, exactly, but his appreciation for it has by no means worn away... and this is especially true for Charles, whose gift is not an especially visible one.

He says nothing, but looks on, quietly expectant.

[cerebral]

Mutant abilities may have lost their novelty, but that doesn't stop Charles' enjoyment at being able to show-off.

"What I mean is," and the stick becomes exactly that once more, "this is how the human population of the city sees new xenians. There. Or else they see something dangerous, to be feared or, in the case of the Militia, controlled."

"If we don't want them to see us as a threat, then we need to present ourselves as a solution. We're talented individuals and we're helping others less fortunate than ourselves become productive members of the city. Stopping them from becoming other people's problems. Lending an extra hand to those that need it, without any cost to politicians or tax payers." For now, at least. If they do stay here longer, Charles has plans. But at present he catches Erik's eye, hoping his friend sees what he's getting at through the adopted double-speak.

[magnetic]

"That is an attractive proposition." You know what's coming next. He doesn't even need to pause. "But where does it leave us? We streamline the integration process for them, and, what, live out the remainder of our lives in harmony as productive prisoners?"

One of his hands slips loose of his pocket, gesturing smoothly to stay any response. "I'm not saying this is a bad idea, or that it shouldn't be done..." But...

[cerebral]

"Then we know and have a lot of influence with some very talented individuals. Who have been brought here against their will. And are forced to live somewhere that poses multiple threats towards their safety and livelihood."

Charles, you are fooling no one with that innocent smile.

"It will be a legitimate enterprise. We'll have to establish friends in high or interesting places, make sure we have a perfectly documented paper trail, and only legal sources of funding. The Militia may come sniffing, but the trick is to give them nothing to find. In fact, there will be nothing to find. We'll only be doing our civic duty."

[magnetic]

"You make it sound so easy," he says, his voice softened momentarily by something akin to wistfulness, which dissipates as he continues on. "But I don't think you understand the Militia. Men like that don't come sniffing around first, they come with the intent to put an end to things, and waving paper at them won't steer them away."

The gravity of this discussion seems to draw him in closer; he approaches slowly, looming, progressively more intense. "You can build up all the legitimacy you want—and what if they ignore it? And they will ignore it, should it suit them. Who will hold them accountable?"

[cerebral]

"I know the minds of people better than you think." Despite Erik's moving closer, Charles doesn't budge. If anything, his body-language takes on a slightly more challenging stance and he meets Erik's intense look with one of his own.

"I'm not saying it's a full proof plan and we would be dealing with forces unknown to us." Unknown to him, which is really a point for distress. "But I'd rather do something productive that could benefit everyone, especially those who need it most, than curse at my misfortune. The threat of the Militia will always dangle over my head and they could conceivably drag me away at any given moment. I would rather it was over this than anything else."

He's not backing down on that.

[magnetic]

He'd better not back down on that, because this is exactly the sort of response Erik was hoping for; it's just as much a probe for personal reassurance as it is an impromptu test of mettle. Few things could be worse for Erik in this place than to feel alone in his point of view.

Seconds pass, during which he says nothing, but remains just where he is, tall and solid and for now only looking. The hard angles of his face and the pale steel blue of his eyes. Their minute flicks of observation.

Presently, Erik's weight settles on his heels—a subtle, but important change—and he asks, "How did you want to begin?"

[cerebral]

Charles remains similarly, but perhaps slightly more focused, on staying right where he is. It's only when Erik finally shifts and speaks that he releases his inner lip from being bitten (an old, nervous habit that he'd never quite shaken).

"Planning stages first of all." And he relaxes in posture, with a small exhalation at whatever test he's just passed. "Networking is key. The better friends we can make, the better chances we have of making this work, both for fundraising and to show that we mean well. Some of them are going to need to be more public and more established than we are. I'd also like to speak to Remy about this. And, of course, scoping out places for rent."

[magnetic]

"I will take care of that." The location scouting, he means. While he can turn on the charm to some degree, Erik is well aware that of the two of them, he is the least suited to inducing friendships in high places. (Or any places, really.) That and he's done the property dance twice, now, so...why not.

He is still standing there, by the way. His hand has gone back into his coat pocket, and his posture is less...monolithic, but he is there.

[cerebral]

"Well then. Good." It's decided. And after a moment of not knowing what else to do, Charles reluctantly turns to keep walking, hands firmly in his coat pockets. Although his head turns slightly towards his friend, as if to make sure that he actually is coming along.

[magnetic]

He is, of course—or will, rather, as soon as whatever it is he's thinking comes to a conclusion. In the meantime he is still, once again silent, only observing, and looking as though he may be about to smile, but has not quite made the decision to go through with it.

For the first time since his arrival here, you see, Erik has been given some clarity of purpose, and it deserves a moment.

(His fist squeezes around the silver coin in his pocket.)

[joiedeviolet]

"All right. See you later."

Jeez. She might as well shove the poor man out of the cafe at the rate she's going.

[phreak]

"Lay on, MacDuff." And off they go! It is a wild and exciting day to explore Baedal or at the very least, it's a nice walk. "And, yeah, busy is one word for it. I am seriously low on juice, so panels it is, until I can get my own place and really rig it out. Maybe a turbine, if I'm lucky."

[hearditbothways]

Shawn remaines unphased, meeting Xavier's gaze with a wide smile. "That earns your society some serious restrospect brownie points, I guess. Even though you then did not have to undergo the painful struggle of defeating them, so it stays debatable just how much that accomplishment actually counts."

[cerebral]

"There must be some fantastic sources of alternative energy in this city --actually, I should get in the habit of correcting myself. They're not alternative any more." One of many things to get used to. "What do you need it all for?"

[cerebral]

"Yes. And if you socialise amongst the cohort, I think you'll find there are quite a few who share a similar mindset. We all had lives to lead before we were brought here." Somewhere, hopefully, five out of six of the most important people in his life are frozen in time, waiting for him and Erik to take their places once more. Or at least, that's how he tries to imagine it. "And we all have things to do upon our return."

Wars to avoid, schools to open, mutant causes to advocate, etc.

[supersonic]

There's a funny drop in his mood at that, which for all but the most perceptive goes unexpressed. Most of what's left of his life is already in the city. He has a daughter to return to, of course, but Luna is off in another galaxy and not speaking to him besides (with good reason), and Crystal– well, he can't help but wonder if it isn't better for everyone, that he isn't there.

But being trapped grates on his nerves on principle.

"A few left clinging to sanity, then." He nods, approving despite the disparaging tone. (Maybe that's just how he talks.) Then, a cunning redirection: "And what were you before this place snatched you up?"

[phreak]

"Mostly wind and solar, but there's some others, like etherwaves, that I want to look into. And, yeah, I run my own server -- like a giant tower of computer -- so it needs some juice." As far as she can tell, etherwaves are like wind power based on magical flow or leylines.

[cerebral]

"And you've set all of this up while being here...how long?" Building a computer from scratch when you come from the early sixties is a very impressive feat, never mind the technological advancements that are present in the city. Colour him impressed! Although his astonishment is quite clearly indicated with, "My word."

[cerebral]

Ha ha. Oh, that is a question. And for a moment, Charles' mind flips back through the events of the past few months. How do you explain that to a stranger, even if it is a fellow mutant? 'Stopping World War III'? 'Strategising an emerging minority group'?

Then again, this could be a good room for an indicator as to what he is, so his words may seem carefully chosen when he says, "Teaching an exceptional group of young people who have been gifted with extraordinary abilities."

[supersonic]

He pauses. It's safe to say that catches his interest. The care with which Charles speaks doesn't escape him, either.

"'Extraordinary,'" he repeats, considering the diction. A benign enough word on its own, but Pietro is quite familiar with its more complicated implications. "As in more than human? What is it they say here – 'xenian'?"

The air-quotes are audible; he sounds less than satisfied with the terminology, as if humans are the only applicable yard stick and everyone else is some kind of homogenous group. It's a useful distinction to start with, however.

[phreak]

"Not long, but I came in with my baby -- my sweet, sweet darling lil' server." Whosa good computer? Whosa? You are, yes you! "So, like, I could've thrown together a mucky pup of a box by now -- and like, if mine didn't come, I'd've had to, hard core -- but, like, I didn't have to, so I didn't."