multiversallogs

Entry tags:

[OPEN]

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.

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Steph is coming home from her job at the university library, arms full of books, when she decides to stop for a coffee and something to eat. She's out of food at her room at the Inn, and doesn't feel up to grocery shopping tonight, so cafe food it is.

Armed with a large coffee and a slice of quiche and salad, Steph opens up one of the books she borrowed from work. Most of them contain information on Baedal, notes on history and politics. She's taking everything with a grain of salt, but it's better than being completely uniformed. She's not really paying attention to it, though.

Her thoughts are a mess, flashbacks from two nights ago combined with remembering what she saw the militia do and all piled on top of the general anxiety about being trapped in this city. Charles is free to pick up on these if he's nearby.

Messy thoughts are not something Charles is wholly unused to, especially in this city. He's waiting for his order when he decides to skim through the thoughts of the people around him, but it's the combination in Steph's mind that gets his attention. That's a lot weighing on one person; it's also something he can sympathize with, given that he's new to the city himself.

Of course, it's a bit strange to walk up to someone you don't know and inquire about them and their well-being. So when Charles has his order, he walks past Steph's table rather casually and seemingly does a double-take at the books she's reading. He recognizes a few of the titles from his own knowledge quest a few weeks ago.

"Ah. I remember that work particularly well," he says, pointing at a spine. "Very dense. And not the greatest pillow in the world." Books always seem to be something one can be innocuously friendly over.

She'd registered him walking nearby, but hadn't expected him to stop, so she tenses a little in surprise before forcing herself to relax and look up.

"Were you trying to learn by osmosis, or are you one of those people who forgets about things like beds when there's a book in front of them?" She says it with a smile, thinking of the people she knows who are like that.

But she's also weighing up Charles as she talks, trying to determine if he might be dangerous. But he looks nice enough and there's no visible weaponry, so she settles on categorizing him as harmless.

Indeed, Charles does come over as harmless, or at least as far as these things go with strangers. But he's dressed smartly in warm layers, carrying a leather satchel in one hand and a cup of something hot in the other, so it doesn't look like he's capable of doing much else than sipping his hot beverage (which happens to be hot chocolate this time around, he's a maverick like that). Not to mention they're in a public place and he's forgotten to take off the hospital pass around his neck.

He flashes an amiable smile. "The latter. I get to do my reading the old fashioned way, unfortunately. Speaking of which, the book you're currently reading looks familiar." He tilts his head to the side, peering with a small frown of concentration. "Yes, I think I had better luck with that than some of the others."

Then glancing back to Steph, "You're new, too?" Of course, he already knows the answer.

"I'm awaiting the day we can download ebooks straight into our brains, I'm not much of a reader." Which would seem contrary to the pile of books she's got, but that's for research and it's necessary, so she'll do it. "Thanks, I'll try to actually pay attention to it when I'm reading it."

She smiles, seeming a little amused, and uses her foot to gently push out the chair opposite her. It's an invitation for Charles to sit; if they're going to chat, she'd rather do it with him sitting down instead of hovering.

"I got here almost two weeks ago. You?"

That sounds...kind of odd, to someone from the sixties. Charles puts it down to a culture gap, focuses on the bits he does understand and infers the rest through telepathy (technological advancements in the next forty years are astounding).

"Oh --" he gives a little nod of thanks and takes a seat, placing his bag to the side. Although he doesn't take off his coat or anything, which is a sign that he doesn't intend to take up too much of her time.

"One whole month. I can hardly believe it. I've met a few people used to these situations but I can't say I'm one of them."

"I've heard of things like this," She'd been in Africa when all the shit with those multiverse people went down, the sky had gone all these strange colors and she read about Conner's funeral in one of the local newspapers, "But it was a little different to this, more end-of-the-world kinda deal."

"Does it get easier, being here, I mean?" She wants to know even if she's not sure what answer she wants, because getting used to it means becoming complacent. Steph wonders if after a while, people just stop trying to get home.

"I honestly think it depends on the kind of person you are." His voice lowers, although he doesn't bother to look around when he does so. He knows what to signs to look out for by now. "Psychologically, this set-up is very clever."

Of course, Charles comes from pre-1973, which means the term 'Stockholm syndrome' hasn't been coined yet.

"Most of the species in this city adapt to survive —probably why they're chosen. It's evolution in motion, really. The only difference is some see acceptance as the way to survive. And others decide compliant resistance to be a more agreeable, ulterior course of action, if you'll excuse the oxymoron."

And then, his voice gradually regains its normal tone. "It can get easier. There's nothing wrong with being comfortable while we're here. Just...be sure to keep yourself on your toes." That's a mild way of putting things, but then he can be very diplomatic. "Besides, there's a lot of good that can be done in the meantime."

She listens to what Charles has to say and recategorizes him from 'harmless' to 'smart', but she approves anyway. It makes sense and Stockholm syndrome definitely comes to mind.

"I think compliant resistance sometimes forgets about the resistance part. Maybe I'm judging too harshly, but even if people here started out that way, it seems like they've gotten too caught up in pretending to accept their fate." She's met a few second and third generation citizens through work, and they all seem so complacent.

His comment about doing some good gives Steph a mental image of tracking down those militia agents and breaking their legs. It's a nice little fantasy. "Doing some good is always on my agenda."

"I agree; it's a fine line. For my part, I can't begrudge anyone who wants to stay here. It's not perfect, but neither is my world. Xenians, for example. There's bigotry, but at least here people are allowed to openly live as such."

That is some careful dodging of pronouns there. Charles is still so used to having to hide what he is and, even amongst mutants or xenians, his abilities make people uncomfortable. He's not about to announce himself as different during incidental chit-chat.

Speaking of telepathy, that is a highly interesting fantasy, young lady. Charles raises an eyebrow, but doesn't say anything and only gives a little nod in reply.

"I've noticed that," it confuses her a little, "Xenians is a broad category, usually it gets more specific in my world, and... people are judged on their actions, not what they look like or what they can do."

It's not entirely true, there is some distrust of meta humans and aliens, but there's also people like Kory, Diana, and the Martian Manhunter, who are accepted for what they are: not human, but still good people. And on the other hand there are people like Killer Croc, who may be hunted because of how he looks, but mostly he's hunted because he eats people.

At least she wasn't fantasing about killing them? Although it's entirely possible if it came to an actual confrontation, Steph would conveniently forget that Bats aren't supposed to kill.

Charles smiles; it's something he hopes will eventually apply to his own world. Although recent interaction with people from future timelines has cast a small shadow of doubt over whether that dream will ever be a reality.

"I think the circumstances in this city leave people wanting to create a more secure sense of community. After all, there are only about one million people or so and an infinite amount of species that could be brought here." Although humans still seem to be the majority, which is curious.

"It'd be hard to have any ongoing, open hostility, it'd turn the city into a war zone," which is probably not quite what Charles meant, but Steph is thinking of how Gotham turned during No Man's Land, and then during the gang war that tore the city apart (a thought usually accompanied by a wave of guilt).

"It might help that everyone has another enemy to focus on." The militia, and while everyone may not actually consider them the bad guys, they're still enough of a threat to everyone that they kind of count as a shared enemy.

"I think this city has produced a police state for a reason." In other words, he agrees with both points. Everything about Baedal is a carefully manufactured cage.

That wave of guilt doesn't slip by him, and he asks (mildly) "Would you mind telling me a little bit about your world? I'd be willing to do likewise, or if it makes you uncomfortable, we can skip the subject entirely." He looks thoughtfully at his cup for a moment, before further explaining, "I spoke to an interesting man on my first day here, although I haven't seen him about since. He was a mathematician who dealt with probability theory. Ever since then, I can't help but wonder if there's some sort of rhyme or reason behind why we're chosen to be brought here. I'm not willing to believe it's some sort of cosmological accident."

"I think you're right." She doesn't say anything more than that on the subject, but listens to Charles' question and explanation.

"I don't mind, it's one of the things I like to ask people and I've been wondering the same," About if there's a reason they're here. She takes a sip of her coffee as she decides what to say, not because she's trying to hide anything, it's just hard to pick what's relevant, "My world is pretty normal, just... Earth, from the early 21st Century, but we've got superheroes. That seems to be the big difference; other people I've talked to only know of superheroes 'cause of comic books, if they know of them at all."

She can't decide whether she feels sorry for the worlds without superheroes or if she should be jealous. On one hand, there are probably a lot less messes to deal with but... she can't imagine living in a world without Superman.

"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...?"

"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.

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."

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."

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[OPEN]

@Mog Hill [warning for violence/gore/death in the link]

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