multiversallogs | and if you gaze into the abyss, the abyss gazes also into you.

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and if you gaze into the abyss, the abyss gazes also into you.

Who: Charles Xavier & Remy LeBeau, later Erik Lehnsherr.

What: ...someone isn't handling integration well.

Where: Near the fog.
When: Newdi early afternoon.

Notes: Mind horrors.
Warnings: None.

It had started out with good intentions. No, that's a lie. It had started out with Charles telling himself that this was a walk like any other, while he kept the real reason why he took that particular route at the back of his mind.

The fog bothered him. He could accept the gods as extraordinarily powerful beings, although he questioned their self-proclaimed divine status. He could accept magic and had already began to read various introductory books on thaumoturgy. But there were few solid facts about the fog --it was there, it gated them in and it contained monsters, but the rest was up to speculation.

And in the meantime, every part of him was railing against the idea of being trapped in this city. Perhaps if Raven, or Hank, or any of the other younger mutants were here, he would have put on a brave face and tried to handle things better for them. When it was himself--

But it wasn't only himself, there was Erik. And Erik was going out into the wilds while telling him not to, which only gave him more reason to worry.

At least, Charles thought, he had no intention of entering the gloom in front of him (although it only assuaged his guilt a little.) All he needed was to be near enough to let his mind wander into the great vastness before him.

After a long time staring at it, he closed his eyes, put two fingers to his temple and searched.

What he found was in some ways much, much worse than the rumours or his own imagination.

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The first thing Remy thinks when Charles doesn't show to their mid-morning meetup is that maybe he'd vanished from the city again. The notion of people doing that is something he first came across in the first trap-dimension he'd landed himself in, where he'd met Wanda. It unsettles him, even just thinking it. The idea of memories, friendships, relationships, months and months of his life, gone in a blink... it's disturbing.

He thinks about paging Erik to ask if he's around over in Mafaton, but decides he both doesn't want to talk to Magneto and doesn't want to send him on another spiral of unstable depression. So he asks around and heads out; he's not Laura, not Logan, but he can track people the good old fashioned way easy enough. As he gets closer to the edges of the city, something like dread builds in him.

It isn't alleviated in the least when he actually does find the man.

Luckily --or unluckily, depending on your perspective-- Charles has not disappeared from the city. Instead he's lying crumpled on the ground in the same spot where he stopped earlier, give or take a sprawled limb. His eyelids are twitching in rapid movement, as if he were having an intensely bad dream.

Unfortunately, that's not the case. Whatever is going on in Charles' mind is the result of something very real out there.

Well, shit.

He's at the other man's side immediately, checking his vitals and seeing if just a quick "Charles?" will get him up. Once that fails, he searches him as quickly as he can without moving him too much for other injuries, scrambling to think of what the fuck might have happened. It's not like he can scan him, he doesn't have the ability, and just peeling back the guy's eyelid to see if he flips out - no? dang - isn't helping.

Striking out with anything else, Remy winces to himself - this isn't the most refined trick - and flicks out a card between the fingers of his right hand. He charges it, then holds it up next to Charles' head; soon it'll disintegrate, the paper succumbing to the slow particle deterioration of his kinetic energy being forced into it in a controlled releases versus the explosive burst he uses for offensive purposes, but if there's telepathic interference going on, the nearness of his self-generated 'static' might pull Chuck out of it for a second before the charge fades.

It works. Charles visibly starts and, for a moment, looks at Remy in confusion as he tries to sort out what's happening now from whatever was in his mind a second ago. But any disorientation quickly gives way to panic as he sits up, staring out towards the fog before scrambling to crawl backwards from it.

"Oh God, oh God--" He stops mid-stream then breathes long and deep, although it ends up sounding more ragged than anything. All colour has drained from his face.

He's also shaking, which means his crawling doesn't get him too far before one arm gives out. Only then does he turn to look towards Remy again, wide-eyed and obviously distressed.

At least he can be sure it's a psychic problem, he thinks distantly, and tries to mentally scramble for something else to do before the charge fades. Remy doesn't move, not wanting to scare him. "You're okay," he says, voice steady, "Just breathe for a minute, Charlie."

- And then the card does flit away, kinetic interference gone. Maybe Charles got a grip before then? ... Maybe?

It's odd how people have a tendency to latch onto the small things, even in situations like this. "Charlie?" His brow furrows slightly, his look becoming slightly more questioning than spaced. "Really?"

But at least he's fussing. Surely that can only be a sign of good things.

Thank fuck. If he relapses, Remy could probably stabilize him, but his psy-skills are not only rusty, but unstable; it'd be one hell of an experience. He relaxes a bit, but puts one hand on Charles' shoulder to steady him.

"Look, you're American where I'm from. What the hell happened?"

"My mother is English and I've spent the last eight years in Oxford--" That's probably not what he's talking about, Charles. Which he promptly realises and cuts off wherever he was going with that.

"I, ah. I did something rather foolish." That's an understatement. At least he has the decency to avert his gaze.

"Was anybody out here with you, an' would anybody else be lookin' for you right now?" First thing's first, which is to make sure there's nobody else out lost in the fog, either by having accompanied Charles to begin with or from going out after him.

.. It's extremely surreal, this reversal. I did something rather foolish. For a moment, watching him, Remy has a little private moment remembering all the times that phrasing was I see you've gone and done something rather foolish, always accompanied by a well-meaning but exasperated, Gambit. (Or, you know, insert 'Gentlemen', 'You two', 'everyone in this house'.)

Hindsight is always twenty-twenty. Unfortunately Charles hasn't acquired enough yet.

"...no. To both questions." He even winces a little because Erik expressly told him not to go near the fog. As in wouldn't even let Charles accompany him on his own expidition. And will probably react somewhat negatively when he finds out, considering he lost the other iteration of his friend only recently.

And speaking of reacting negatively. "Oh God, he's out there. Erik. Not here here, but he's out there. He left this morning on an expidition." Which quickly turns to the realisation of, "He knows what they can do and he went in there?"

...why are you still surprised by such things, Charles.

One bright spot.

That revelation makes him pull a face, though. "Well, pokin' it with a stick ain't like pokin' it with your brain," Charles, "an' most folks here have been out at least a couple times. Is he workin' a job?"

And since buddy here is talking and otherwise coherent, Remy rises to his feet, and then goes about helping Charles up. "In one piece?"

"Because going into that without any telepathic defences or clear knowledge of what you're up against is any better? What's out there is--" He doesn't want to think about it, but he can't not. "...beyond horrifying."

And it's all around them.

He's a little unsteady when he gets to his feet, still trembly despite his chatter. "I just want to get away from here."

Remy keeps a hand on him, supportive just in case. Sometimes being a huge guy is helpful.

"I got spoilers for you, homme, goin' into highly dangerous shit totally blind is a niche you're headin' straight for." He sounds a little amused. "Don't worry though, you get better at it."

Versus just passing out in the middle of the street? Yes.

Charles doesn't say anything to that at first. Instead he focuses on brushing himself down, before uttering a quiet, "Yes, well."

It's not the best equivalent to bring it, world but it will have to do.

"Thank you, by the way." This time his voice is a tad milder. They may know one another some day in the future, and he knows Remy is a good man, but he's not about to become complacent in his gratitude.

"Don't worry none," he assured him. "Stickin' together's a good habit to be in." For them in general, or as mutants? He doesn't say. Maybe the specifics don't really matter.

"You're real lucky though, if you went in much further I'd have never seen you that easy. The hell were you doin', anyway?"

"Gathering information. Yes, I tried the old fashioned way. And the, ah—" he brings his fingers to his temple with a waggle, "—way. But this place is absolutely maddening. There are no straight answers whatsoever."

He sounds frustrated, which may in fact show the true motivation for his actions.

"Well, I certainly found something." And he closes his eyes for a moment, willing himself not to turn around and look.

Edited 2011-12-28 21:23 (UTC)

"Whatever's keepin' us in ain't simple," he muses. Remy is frustrated being stuck, too, but he's been jerked around by the universe enough times that he can't muster the strength to be outwardly pissed about it anymore - it's a waste of energy. He knows something will happen eventually if he stays vigilant and keeps moving, so he's doing that, instead.

"How hard'd you get hit?" Psychically, one would assume.

"No, it's not." Unfortunately, Xavier the younger is not so experienced (his first mission was only a week ago and left incomplete). Consider this his ill-considered kick at the world; normal services of responsibility will return shortly.

"I don't know. Pretty battered. I feel... I feel as though a great stone has been rolled on top of me. Everything feels heavier. And the things they made me see—" Cause rising feelings of dread and panic to needle at him. Later, alone in his room or starting awake in the middle of the night, he will feel the reprecussions much more strongly. "Not that I made it easy for them. But I dread to think what it's like for people with no mental defences. Then again, most people probably try not to go as deep as I did, or spend as much time in there. Or something gets to them first."

He's rambling a little bit. It will become apparent the more they converse that he's running on the mental equivalent of adrenaline and not much else.

If he asked, Remy would volunteer to practice with him; it'd be weird for the both of them, probably, but better than letting him continue to have his head violated in totally alien circumstances. Maybe he'll bring it up later - right now further experimentation isn't exactly a priority.

"Folks warn off goin' out there for a reason, homme. Fog hunters who do it for profit go about it differently. It's like-" he gestures, trying to find the right words. "Things out there hurt everybody's heads, sure, but you can see an' hear things most people can't. Which means things can hear an' see you where they can't see or hear others. You go pokin' around at it psychically, you're gonna get the attention of stuff that's been waitin' for a target like that."

And not just in the fog - Remy's seen telepaths get crippled time and time again for that very reason; beings who only exist on the astral plane tend to be lonely. And hungry.

"I've realised that the hard way." And, when he's feeling more conducive to such thoughts, he'll make a note to practice for any future psychic attacks. Holding his own against another telepath like Emma Frost is one thing, but this city has far more powerful citizens than mutants.

And speaking of which: "There are other things. It's not just the monsters, although they're bad enough. It was —There was," because it wasn't sentient so much as, "hunger. Just...hunger. Beyond everything. Huge and—and encompassing. I kept trying to find out where it was coming from but it was there, just there."

Which was disturbing beyond all belief. And now he feels small and powerless. "I need to go home." No, that's not right. "To the Inn, I mean. I need to lie down. No, I need to tell him he's a reckless fool, and then I'll lie..." There's a long space there, before he feels like finishing the sentence with, "down. Lie down."

Not to be hypocritical or anything, no.

The fact that Remy's silence in response to hearing about the vast hunger out there isn't surprised could be worrying. It makes sense, in context; he'd wondered when they were first digging up dirt on the Candlelighters if there was a purpose besides escape to delivering people out into the fog. 'Feeding something' had been on the list of potentials.

Great.

"You sure do, man. You gonna make it?" The nearest El Train stop is still a good fifteen minute's walk away.

He is glad to assist you in your sense of horror, Remy (no). But if he noticed the other man's lack of surprise, it's only because Remy gives off the air of someone who really has seen and done it all.

"I'll manage," he says. "I trust you not to let me chew on my tongue."

He's going to need that, later.

"Right, well, yell if you're gonna pass out."

Still, he's gonna keep a close eye on him as they walk - trailing through a couple run-down alleys for a short cut, and as they get further away from the border, the less oppressive the atmosphere feels, like their retreat is being watched by something looming, distant.

The change in atmosphere helps considerably, although for the most part Charles tries to concentrate on walking, on anything other than the events of the past few hours.

He doesn't pass out on the train. He even manages to pay attention to the card trick that Remy shows him. But when he steps onto the platform at Moghill, something visibly sags in him (so close, yet so far). Although he puts a hand up before Remy can say anything.

"I'm fine. Really."

Edited 2011-12-30 01:05 (UTC)

"You ain't fuckin' fine," he says, chuckling; he does the mother hen act pretty well, but he's not about to put Charles on a fainting couch. "You want me to call anybody to come check on you later or you gonna pretend this didn't happen, or what?"

C'mon, legsy, he's going to make sure you get back to the Inn awake at least.

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