The images of himself and Erik forty years into the future make Charles do the telepathic equivalent of a record scratch and he backs out of Logan's mind.
Oh. Well. He was bound to see little glimpses at some time or other, whether it was accidental or with some purpose in mind. But it really is unsettling to see yourself so...old. And Erik, he was— What had it meant?
(The seeds of curiosity have been thoroughly sown.)
Either way, none of it puts Charles in a good mood and his trademark frown settles on his face. He does a slow headturn around the bar and as he does, everyone...freezes, with the exception of the three of them. A glass topples somewhere. And he turns to look back at Logan smoothly but squarely.
"My name is Charles Francis Xavier, son of Brian and Sharon Xavier, born in Westchester County, New York. As you can see, I am a mutant, and a telepath at that. A very talented one. Now, do I need to sit in a chair and appear bald as well before you'll believe me?" Subtlety indeed.
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Oh. Well. He was bound to see little glimpses at some time or other, whether it was accidental or with some purpose in mind. But it really is unsettling to see yourself so...old. And Erik, he was— What had it meant?
(The seeds of curiosity have been thoroughly sown.)
Either way, none of it puts Charles in a good mood and his trademark frown settles on his face. He does a slow headturn around the bar and as he does, everyone...freezes, with the exception of the three of them. A glass topples somewhere. And he turns to look back at Logan smoothly but squarely.
"My name is Charles Francis Xavier, son of Brian and Sharon Xavier, born in Westchester County, New York. As you can see, I am a mutant, and a telepath at that. A very talented one. Now, do I need to sit in a chair and appear bald as well before you'll believe me?" Subtlety indeed.