multiversallogs | Entries tagged with charles xavier

Who: Charles Xavier, John Allerdyce, and NPC Jacqueline Travieso
What: hi professor this is my spawn i am very sorry about erik please give me a job
Where: Madrasati
When: the Thursday after they spoke
Notes: FYI. Also, anybody who works at Madrasati is welcome to join in, if you feel so moved (PYRO CR IS SO ENTICING I KNOW >_>). Just start a new thread.
Warnings: n/a

It's been awkward, of course. John has little idea of what it takes, day to day, to raise a kid, even one as undemanding as Jacqueline. Just because she doesn't demand his attention, however, doesn't mean she has no need of it, or wouldn't appreciate it. He's not sure what the balance between attentiveness and smothering is, but under the circumstances, erring on the side of the first seems better than the other way around.

She did cry the first night without her mom. It's the first time he's ever really tried to comfort her since she was a baby. He can't be much of a reassurement, but he's better than nothing. He's at least somewhat familiar.

Today, she is interested in the El Train and its procession from Mog Hill to Echomire, peering out the window, examining other passengers, and occasionally giving her new red rain boots a casual but deliberate swing. Ana has never been much for restricting Jacqueline's clothing choices, apart from the safety concerns, and John doesn't intend to be either. Rain boots are practical, as far as he's concerned. And if she wants to wear a maroon... jumper dress thing with a many-pocketed vest, well, fine. Whatever. She's warm, pockets are very practical, it's Baedal, no one cares.

The Madrasati building is sort of old English gloomy, even though it's not terribly overcast today. John conscientiously holds Jacqueline's hand as they proceed up the path. He's not nervous, only concerned, or so he tells himself; there's a low level jitteriness in his mind, a controlled tension in his body and the way he moves, but he's careful with Jacqueline's hand. Jacqueline herself is a bright streak of active awareness, taking in the shrubbery and the house layout with equal curiosity. She is not accustomed to holding hands with an adult anymore but is tolerant of it for John's sake, dimly aware of the meaningfulness behind the gesture as much as the physical comfort it gives both of them.

cerebral

Who: Charles Xavier.
What: Comings and goings.
Where: Back home and the arrival cell.
When: Givdi 16th of Caraden.
Notes: Some scenes from the past three months.
Warnings: N/A.

( I swear, I end up feeling empty, like you’ve taken something out of me, and I have to search / my body for the scars, thinking / Did he find that one last tender place to sink his teeth in? )

cerebral

Who: Charles Xavier, Olivia Dunham (prime) and Rachel Conway.
What: Various appointments.
Where: The Glory Shada.
When: Backdated to a couple of weeks ago, for whenever is convenient.
Notes: None.
Warnings: None.

On Newdi to Givdi, Charles Xavier keeps the usual nine to five office hours at the Glory Shada unless otherwise organised (i.e. nocturnal clients, people who need the discretion, others who need some advice but don't have the marks) and Veerdi morning eight until twelve acts as a drop-in hours. It's ideal for anyone who has been working up the courage or simply has a few questions that can be answered quickly.

His office is removed enough from the medical parts of the building that it doesn't having that lingering smell of disinfectant; he's done his best to set it up as a calm place with comfortable seating. A few pictures drawn by children --presumably patients-- decorate the walls. One appears to be a crayoned rendition of a man in a cardigan with a smiley face standing next to a small boy with a big smile sprouting fire from his hands. Even in Baedal, wobbly thank-you drawings are a constant.

The good doctor himself can most likely be found sitting behind his desk, taking care of paperwork or reading from various medical books, whilst waiting for knocks on his door.

cerebral

Who: Charles Xavier & Erik Lehnsherr.
What: Chillin' post-hangover and squidbabby revelations.
Where: Casa del X-Bro.
When: Shunday.
Notes: None.
Warnings: None.

Psyche-not: for when the busy mind needs a break. Quietens psionic, psychic and other mental abilities. Not to be consumed by anyone without*. See instructions for brewing.

*If you do, CONTACT A PHYSICIAN IMMEDIATELY.

Charles had eyed the little packet for five minutes before he'd given in. If he didn't know any better, he would say tiny men had invaded his skull and were making room for their furniture (which wasn't out of the question, given this city). A hangover on top of telepathy meant that everything was insufferably loud in strange and interesting ways and his sleep from morning until late afternoon still left him short of feeling even close to normal.

Hopefully tea that included something a little extra to it would help his will to live.

Ten minutes later and he's lying stretched out on a couch in the sun room, pale and huddled in a cardigan and pajamas, steaming cup next to him on the table as he stares at the ceiling and feels the strange, mentally numbing effect of the brew.

The growing silence is the most peculiar feeling but with it comes a strange relief.

whattigerscanchange

Who: A pretty random group of people who got stupid drunk at the Swap Meet.
What: The morning after.
Where: Sobex Croix. Probably. Check the GPS?
When: Pre-dawn, Shundi.
Notes: Organisational post can be found here.
Warnings: Bad behaviour. Possibly furries.

The sun has not quite yet risen over Baedal, or Sobex Croix in specific. Moonlight illuminates the shapes of several bodies in a sprawling clearing, or a field. Nearly all of them are unconscious. At least one appears to be dead – at a glance anyway.

Several items are scattered amongst the people as well, including but not limited to: a pair of women's underwear, roughly a half dozen empty bottles of hard liquor, a couple plastic tiaras, several inflatable sheep -some being used as pillows. Additionally, one (1) sign reading KEEP OFF GRASS, raising the question of whether or not the very grass they're spread out upon is that which they're meant to keep off.

baedalites

Who: EVERYONE.
What: Swap meet.
Where: The Apache and surrounding environs.
When: Sukkardi the 14th of Haneden
Notes:
Swap Meet Spreadsheet: Pre-chosen swaps are green. Assigned are blue. There were a few characters that were selected more than once, so objects were assigned on a first-come first-serve basis. If you have any issues or concerns, please do not hesitate to contact the mod team.
For objects that might not be immediately apparent as belonging to their owners, there may be a picture or name attached, or players are welcome to have their characters ~just know~ it's for them. Drr drr drr, bb.
Party post nights are a great time to come join the chatroom.
The topic threads are just suggestions; if you've got somewhere else that your characters simply must be, make your own thread.
Warnings: None yet. Please put warnings up on individual threads.

The Apache is much the same as it always is: dimly lit, with the jukebox playing in the background, and the bartender serving whatever's on tap.

mightyfallen

Who: Jack Benjamin & Charles Xavier
What: A lunch meeting and a discussion of potential funding.
Where: Coin's End
When: Misdi, mid-day.

( a little less like my father and more like my dad )

cerebral

Who: Charles Xavier & Irene Adler.
What: Let's have dinner.
Where: The Witching Hour, East Gidd.
When: Misdi evening.
Notes: None yet.
Warnings: ...probably.

It had been several days since Erik had woken up, which meant that, finally, Charles had allowed himself to rest --at least to the best of his ability. The previous weeks still haunted him in terrible ways, but everyone was dealing with something, and so he tucked it away along with every other concern or feeling he didn't want to announce. Life goes on.

And he had promised a friend dinner. So he chose somewhere with good food, a great wine list and an indulgent but quiet atmosphere in order to toast shaky victories in a way that required as little effort as possible.

He's standing in the lounge area, which once was and still serves as a library room part-time, examining the spines of old books as he waits for Irene to arrive.

baedalites

As night falls on Baedal, the city is almost quiet. The streets have a few last minute workers returning home, but by now, most citizens have already gone by the temples and picked up their vurt, ready to lay down and dream.

After placing a not-feather in one's mouth, there's a moment where it fizzes against the tongue before sliding coolly down the back of the throat and pulling the user down into sleep. A series of impressions, more sensation than anything concrete, appears before the user and this is how one chooses which Dreamer to enter.

baedalites

Who: Everyone.
What: Part two begins.
When: Evening, a few hours before the end of the 24-hour siege period.
Notes: Feel free to thread in comments here or make your own posts! NPC your own monsters, team up in locations anywhere you like, and feel free to plot things at the plotting post, which has the relevant details. Remember that this is city-wide, so you are free to do what you like with locations.

Just after dark, the air of Baedal seems to change. While it was tense before, with the stand-off in Mafaton, a new kind of electrical energy begins to spread through the city, leaking from the sky itself. The horizon is clear tonight, even starry where the city lights don't obscure the view, but soon enough it begins to blur with color, and at an alarmingly rapid pace. Bright streaks of pink and green begin to spiral across the sky, in an approximation of the auroras, though it is much nearer and brighter than any common demonstration of an aurora should be. The geomagnetic storm swirls and dances, initially beautiful, but its intensity is ominous.

It's also growing. Most geomagnetic storms stay to one corner, but this spreads across the entire sky, green-purple-pink-red illuminated and inching further into the dark, leaving the city of Baedal tinted with a dim, eerie glow. This continues for about a half an hour, until that tension reaches its breaking point.

The magical boundaries holding Mafaton crack and then completely shatter. It is audible, and the backlash sends flying many of the Candlelighters trying frantically to preserve the borders of their siege. A few of them are killed by the backlash of their spell's combustion, but more are simply shaken; having one's magic work so thoroughly broken is not a pleasant experience. The sound covers another tearing, this time a metaphysical one that rips the heavens open in places the common eye can't see. Those whose vision allows them to observe different layers of reality will notice, but others will only see the incoming flood of creatures from other universes.

One siege has ended, but another has just begun, and this time, it's not just Mafaton at risk.

norea

Who: Hasibe Ozcelik, Irene Adler, and OPEN.
What: Just another night of expensive debauchery.
Where: The Vault.
When: Sukkardi.
Notes: N/A
Warnings: Sexuality, BDSM, swearing, probable allusions to drug use. Sex club, y'all.

( you speak, and i don't hear a word. )

baedalites

Who: Everyone!
What: St Kelley's evening
Where: The Apache and surrounding environs.
When: Veerdi evening.
Notes:
(1) The topic threads are just suggestions; if you've got somewhere else that your characters simply must be, make your own thread.
(2) All mementos will appear overnight in some part of your character's apartment.
(3) Dance!

( St Kelley's is one of the more sedate occasions in Baedal. )

whattigerscanchange

Who: Odessa Wander and you, maybe!
What: Coffee break and downtime.
Where: The Glory Shada.
When: Various points throughout the workday.
Notes: This is an open thread for those who have reason to be at the Glory Shada.
Warnings: None as of this posting. Will update if that changes.

( the cups are so close the steam is rising in one stream how are you? )

diogenesis

Who: Mycroft Holmes and ~*you*~
What: An attempt to learn about the City in the most casual way possible.
Where: The Library of Blessed St. Brian
When: Veerdi, Kavadry 3rd
Notes: This is an open post! I have certain things I want to accomplish here, planting certain seeds and so forth, but anyone should feel free to come and poke the antisocial bear.
Warnings: Spoilers for Sherlock S2E3: The Reichenbach Fall.

( it has been a long three days. )

cerebral

Who: Charles Xavier & Erik Lehnsherr.
What: The aftermath of future revelations.
Where: Casa del X-bros.
When: Late Newdi evening.
Notes: Sad feels :C
Warnings: None yet.

( these scars of mine make wounded rhymes tonight )

thedominatrix

Who: Irene Adler and Charles Xavier
What: Two cheats play a guessing game.
Where: Queequeg's, Mog Hill.
When: Misdi evening.
Warnings: TBA. Irene's existence, maybe?

Irene Adler loves to play games. It's a fact of her existence. Without games, things get boring and people get lax; she likes to keep herself sharp at all times.

Of course, that doesn't mean she can't cheat. Not that she views searching out information on the mystery man (not such a mystery anymore) she's promised to meet as cheating, because that would imply there are actually any rules. He seemed confident, anyway, which to Irene suggests that he knows something she doesn't. In a way, looking him up is only leveling the playing field.

His name is Charles Xavier and he has been known to wear a fetching (read: eyebrow-raising) Kevlar get-up. He spends a lot of time chatting to one particular friend, can give first aid advice and is apparently active in the xenian community- curious, because he looks human. (This isn't something she's ever had to take into account before, she has to admit). Perhaps it's to do with his job and his interests, or perhaps he's one of their number. Right now, it's impossible to tell. She knows that he's clever and wants to challenge her, and that she's taken a shine to him. It's enough.

She arrives at Queequeg's reasonably early, all in black- black pencil dress with capped sleeves, black coat that conceals all but an inch of the dress in question, spiky black heels, sheer black seamed stockings (it is cold outside), black leather gloves- she looks, as ever, predatory. Her make up is precise and dramatic and her hair is twisted into an elegant updo, and she's apparently checking her lipstick in a compact- while actually using it to search the faces for the one that she wants without anybody wondering what she's staring out. Without, in short, giving herself away.

It's packed enough to slow her down; she doesn't see him just yet. Still, that's fine. She's confident. Heaven knows what he's got up his sleeve- but it's not enough to beat the fact that she has, essentially, already tied him to his face. Already won, really.

In her opinion, at least.

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.

timewreck

Who: Kiden and YOU. This is an open log for any and everybody.
What: Teens with idle hands are the devil's playthings.
Where: All around Baedal
Warnings:Kiden's mouth.

For someone who is young both in body and mind, it shouldn't be this hard for Kiden to find something to do with herself these days. But with a lack of Laura by her side and her new found partner-in-crime Tommy probably causing mayhem without her, Kiden's left to stroll up and down the city blocks looking for trouble to get into. Let her tell it, trouble just follows her, but it doesn't help that she invites it closer to her with open arms.

She could get a job. Granted, she could use the pocket change, but really... last time she had a job she did it because she had rent to chip in for. Here in Baedal, she just freeloads off Remy and Wanda for the moment. They keep offering her food and a place to stay; she isn't ready to tell them no.

[ooc: Feel free to jump in on any of the two already posted threads or make up your own!]

perfectcameo

Who: Logan, Laura Kinney, Njoki Rainmaker, and some other people probably. Not all at the same time.
What: Existing in Baedal once an obvious exit sign has since not been found.
Where: Various!
Warnings: Swearing, so we can get an Oscar.

Shaking the cage of people in his same predicament, turns out, isn't as engaging as he had hoped. He doesn't like the CiD, it fits wrong in his hand, he feels like he could shatter it if he draws tendon and bone tight in a fist, and its mechanisms feel too small for his fingers. But eventually, he sends off a text message, some delayed and somewhat grudging.

could use that beer

He misses traffic, too. Cars don't spook so easily and he can live out of a truck.

There is a time after dusk that he picks up a scent, and follows it all the way into the Spatters. He'd been looking for it before and despite the waning hour, because a little darkness never killed nobody, and he had to know.

The evenings he isn't working in the gambling dens, with cards and fists both, to make his way are spent in hibernation on uncomfortable mattresses with a roof over his head. Daylight holds as many bar interiors as the evening. It isn't like useless, purposeless roaming never suited him before.

It just chafes, this time around.

[ OOC: See comments for some thread starters, both open and closed, otherwise make your own! ]

aldabeyoun

Who: Njoki, Bob Barker & YOU.
What: Fixin' horses, seein' clients, chattin' on the phone, etc.
Where: Mafaton, various other places throughout Baedal.
When: All throughout the week
Notes: The remade horse scenario is for Martha, but the rest of the options are open to everyone. If you want to chat and set anything up, give me a shout.
Warnings: Some gore and bodyhorror. These are Remade horses.

Even with the reduced population of cruorvores in the city, Njoki is still busy enough to have regular wait periods between making an appointment and seeing her. It seems those that are left have a vested interest in warding their property and making sure their appearance is as human as possible. For this reason, she's often out and about anywhere in town: tracking down new suppliers, riding the trains, taking a well-earned break in a coffee shop after a particularly difficult bit of work, and so on.

Today, she's on time and waiting for Martha outside a Mafaton stable with a rucksack over one shoulder and a toolbox in hand. It's worth noting that she's wearing clothing to suit a dirty, messy, hands-on sort of job.

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Entries tagged with charles xavier

with his back to the audience

i took the bullet for all the wrong reasons

[closed] the doctor is in

[closed]

I wake up Sunday morning with my mind all in a haze...

Noli equi dentes inspicere donati.

i don't want to be a proud man, i just want to be a man

[closed] weary and worn little monster is born

birds singing in the sycamore tree

the sky is falling.

007; strip my senses.

OPEN :: A golden bird was singing

i ordered two coffees, one is for you

LIGHT THE MATCH

[closed] sadness is a blessing

(no subject)

[OPEN]

» what do you do with the left over you?

where fast the Arctic nights set in

never put your hat on the bed, son, never put your hat on the bed

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