If I could save time in a bottle

[thetruefocus]

WHO: Charles Xavier and OTA
WHAT: Catch-all for October!
WHERE: Everywhere
WHEN: October
WARNINGS: Nothing so far/TBD





Open starters below!

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Comments

General Prompts

[thetruefocus]

PETTING ZOO

Charles doesn't intentionally go to the petting zoo as he doesn't often handle farm animals, but when he wheels by, he observes for a time and finds it sweet. He ends up coming over after all, and some of the animals sniff around his wheelchair curiously. He reaches down to pick up a chick who peeps and seems content to sit in his lap for now. He is far from the right person to look for the piglets but he tries anyway with some grains and fruits, going into the night hoping to find them before anything happens to them.

"Oh no, believe me, you don't want me to paint your face," he laughs when they start looking for volunteers. His artistic abilities are in another area.

FLORAL BOUTIQUE

"I didn't think they had flowers around here," Charles says thoughtfully. But that isn't going to stop him from looking through them. He loves flowers, and the idea of splurging a little bit on getting them does occur to him. He might even bring some to Erik as a romantic gesture. He has never been in a relationship for real before now, so it seems like it would be perfect. So he takes the picking of the flowers very seriously, his eyebrows furrowing as he looks through them.

He can be found later though surrounded by the mutant flower beings as they dance around his wheelchair trying to nip at him. Charles is annoyed as they don't have a brain for him to control, so to speak, so he attempts to shoo them off. They aren't going harm currently, they're just annoying him, but feel free to come to his rescue.

CIDER FEST

This is absolutely something that Charles enjoys as it reminds him of the pub festivals he used to have in England before he returned to America. It does make him miss Raven a little as they would always do it together, but the energy is much the same. He has enough of an alcohol resistance from heavy drinking to not feel the cider much, but it does loosen him up a little. He eventually does manage to get the six stamps and considers it seriously.

"What would you get if you had the option?" he asks the person nearby. Candy seems like an obvious thing to get with the cider, but he likes whimsical objects too. Otherwise he's friendly at the Cider Fest and waves to people he knows.

Floral Boutique

[freakymagoo]

This is why Bucky got Furiosa just normal pedestrian roadside flowers that won't spring to life and try to eat her face in the middle of the night.

Actually, that's not why. He hadn't discovered this place yet and thought it a higher priority to go and thank her first once he got himself settled in, fixed up his waterlogged bike, and completed a couple of odd jobs around his vicinity.

And now he's worried he got Furiosa flowers that will spring to life and eat her face in the middle of the night.

He was just minding his own business trying to get as far away from Steve Panorama as possible, clear his head, brood in silence, maybe see what there is to see in this place outside of the city, maybe even find another junkyard with some car parts Vash could use. He knows nothing of or about the young man in the chair when he stumbles upon him, only figures that he might struggle to outpace the animated flora.

By now nothing is too out of this world for Bucky. Yeah, he still questions the nature of his reality sometimes, but on the offchance that Mariola Piranhaeus is real, he'd rather intervene first and get a funny look than not intervene and risk someone getting hurt.

Bucky kicks the ankle biters aside and takes brisk, long strides over to close the distance between them. He's wearing a long sleeved jacket and gloves, so apart from that dull little thunk when his vibranium hand hits the wheelchair's handle, it's not immediately obvious that one of those arms is not like the other.

"I'm moving you back towards the highway."

[thetruefocus]

This is one of those times when his gifts simply aren't helpful, and Charles hates that because then he gets to feel helpless, which is frustrating for him. He doesn't have a weapon to knock them off him, and it occurs to him then that he probably should at least get a baseball bat or something. That's what he gets for growing too accustomed to a way to defend himself. And he can't kick them away, obviously, so it's a real conundrum he's in.

Luckily a young man arrives to kick them aside, but Charles is a little thrown by how quickly he goes to take the wheelchair in his hands. And that has nothing to do with Bucky; it's more his own problems. He truly misses his own chair where it only took a flick of his fingers to move the chair around. Having to push around a rusted and old chair the past few months has been very frustrating. He releases the wheels so Bucky can move him.

"Thank you. I certainly didn't expect to be attacked by biting plants today. That's on me for thinking we could have ordinary flowers in this place." Some of them are ordinary, so it's just bad luck. It would be kind of funny to give them to Erik only for it to be dramatic.

[freakymagoo]

"I mean. Are there days you do expect it?" He's starting to learn that this is the kind of place to expect all sorts of things, so it probably shouldn't come as a surprise. But weird shit keeps happening and he keeps having to adjust to what the new normal should look like that he doesn't know if it's worth it anymore to bother expecting anything.

It's a little difficult keeping the rickety old chair steady, especially as the ground gets uneven, but Bucky does his best to make it as unbumpy of a ride as possible until they reach the side of the road. They're not completely away from the aggressive flora, but there's enough of a distance between them now that they are no longer easy targets and they can see anything coming towards them.

"I haven't seen much 'ordinary' around here." He notices that there's the start of a bouquet in the young man's lap (yes, he is a young man in Bucky's eyes) and eyeballs that none of those are springing up to attack them before crouching down to check for any signs of blood or other visible injuries. It's also easier to talk from down there than to just keep talking down at him.

"Picking a gift out?" Nice to know Bucky isn't the only 'weird' or 'old-fashioned' one around.

[thetruefocus]

"I'm starting to, yes. This place is very strange." Charles may come from a world of superpowers, but it is otherwise a fairly normal place. There are no biting plants or mannequins that morph into people. It's been a few months; he really needs to just expect all the wildness here. Of course the flowers would be monsters!

He can tell that the man is trying to keep him from being too bumpy and he appreciates it, but there really is no way to do that with uneven ground. So Charles holds on and has to trust himself to a stranger to get out of the vicinity of his newest headache. He sighs and looks behind him to see if they're following. They seem to have been scared off by Bucky; if these flowers can 'feel' fear.

There are tears in his pants at the ankles, but luckily they weren't able to get to flesh yet. He came at the opportune moment. Charles appreciates that he's looking and does the same to be certain. He wouldn't know if there was any damage.

"Yes. For my significant other. I don't actually know if he'd appreciate them, but I'm a bit old-fashioned." Charles suspects that Erik would find it charming regardless. He's just never gotten flowers before. They're both brand new to a real relationship. This is the first time Charles has expressed that he's in a relationship at all, but Bucky is a stranger so he doesn't worry about it.

[freakymagoo]

"Everyone appreciates flowers. Unless they're allergic." Bucky will die on the old-fashioned hill. More people should be old-fashioned as far as he's concerned.

"I mean. I've never gotten any. And they would all die in 2 days. But nobody's returned my flowers and said 'no thanks'." He can't attest to how many have ended up in the bin straight after but. He can't say he's walked past many garbage cans with flower bouquets in them. And he's seen a lot of weird shit in garbage cans on the streets of Brooklyn.

"Is he nearby?" Said significant other is obviously not here. Bucky can't see anyone in the vicinity. "Do you want to call him or, do you want me to?"

Wildcards

[thetruefocus]

Charles can be found in the following locations/prompts:

- At the hospital where he works, either helping people out, doing filing, or sitting out front with a cup of tea for his break.

- At the Big Top Diner where he has breakfast regularly. He is very friendly so come approach him.

- Generally wheeling around in the motel area, sometimes to go to the vending machine for a snack.

- Taking notes just about anywhere, including at the somewhat broken down park or at the Dumpling place.

- Occasionally fighting with his wheelchair since it's not very good and rusty, and there are spots in the roads that are harder for him to get across.

- He will politely greet just about anyone he comes across, and if he knows you, he'll intentionally stop to have a little chitchat.

wheelchair rescue

[trailmark]

The parking lot in front of the motel is quiet except for the scuff of steps as people walk around, and the occasional purr of a vehicle. Nothing eventful, nothing worth noting, and the weather is decent enough. This place is just alive enough to make Daryl feel restless in his own skin, wishing instead for the shuffle of a walker instead of people that wander about doing who the fuck knows what.

Daryl's on the curb, watching a few people go by as he sips at a crinkled bottle of water. He notices the noise before he looks up - the strained groan of metal, the scratch of rust, the grind of rubber. Not a car or a bike but something else. There's a man in a wheelchair making his way across the parking lot. The chair looks like it's seen better days, sounds worse. Back home, that kind of thing would draw every walker for the next few blocks down on this guy. At least it would until it looks like one of those wheels hits a spot in the pavement that gives, gets stuck.

Daryl watches a beat, brow furrowed, before pushing himself up. He doesn't say anything. Just crosses over, boots crunching over gravel as he does. Once he's close enough, there's no greeting, no words, only a quick glance from under his bangs that's meant to say what Daryl doesn't: I got it. He crouches down near the spot where the wheel's jammed, examines it and spots the offending chunk of loose pavement wedged at just the right angle to catch the wheel, deep enough to hold it. He reaches out carefully, eases his fingers into the spot to work out the pieces to scatter them away. If Charles says anything to him at any point, Daryl doesn't answer.

Once it's cleared, he straightens, dusts off his hands. "Pavement is shit out here," he mutters, glancing down at Charles before looking ahead to scan the length of the parking lot ahead to try and spot any other potentially troublesome spots. Then there's a nod before he steps back, giving space and silence back to him.

[thetruefocus]

Unfortunately, Charles is well aware of the many gaps and problems in the pavement around here. This is not a world built to be accessible in the slightest. The fact that they had a van he could drive using a stick and pedals was an absolute miracle, and it gave him back some freedom he's been without for a while. But that doesn't change the pavement or the uneven surfaces he struggles with daily.

Back home, he had a sophisticated and advanced wheelchair that was designed for him by Hank. It was destroyed by Erik, and he came here without one, so he had to settle for what they had. He'd been out of practice in a wheelchair for years. Everything here has been a struggle for him. It's the little details like this no one else would think about that frustrate him the most.

Charles would probably have fought with his chair until he found a way or had to swallow his pride and message Logan, but a stranger appears to come to the rescue. Frankly, he can tell a lot about someone from how they specifically treat him. This man is one who goes straight for attempting to help without making a thing out of it.

He's tired but he manages an appreciative smile. "Tell me about it." Charles is the one who has to deal with it all day and find routes around the worst patches. "Thank you, that was very kind to step in." Sometimes it drives him insane to need help at all, but Charles is realistic. He observes the man for a moment with sharp blue eyes. "I doubt road work will ever happen around here."

[trailmark]

Daryl himself doesn't need anything like a wheelchair. But as someone who drives a motorcycle, maybe he's a bit more observant when it comes to the conditions of the road. A car can drive over shitty pavement and patchy concrete without too much trouble, but it wouldn't taken much to hit the wrong hole to send him and his bike to the ground. It's a pain in the ass to consider in areas like these. But having to deal with it constantly, maneuvering in a shitty wheelchair? He doesn't envy this guy.

The smile isn't returned, and the thanks gets a short, stiff nod. Not necessary to him. Just a courtesy he'd hope someone would extend to him or anyone else. "Yeah," he says with a shrug of one shoulder, closest thing to 'you're welcome' he's got in him. Brushing his hands off again, he motions forward. An invitation for Charles to keep going with Daryl at his side.

"Wouldn't bet on it," he offers with a shake of his head. There's a glance down towards the wheels, careful and assessing, as they go. "Is that the only chair you got around here?" The question comes out in a low voice, just loud enough to be heard of the sounds of their movements. It wouldn't surprise him if it was. And the thought has him wondering if there might be something around the motel or out around the scrapyard that might be better.

[thetruefocus]

"It was the only option they had at the Scrapyard when I landed. I have two very kind engineers working on a better one for me, but it's a long process." He has faith in Jayce and Viktor being able to give him something at least on par with Hank, or to the best of their ability, but until then Charles more or less has to suffer. The wheelchair has been patched up more than a few times. A discerning glance can probably pick up that it's been worked on to deal with rust or damage, but there's only so much people can do with it.

It's fine. It makes Charles tired, but this is just his life. He spent years getting hooked on a drug to avoid the reality of his situation, and now he has no where to hide from it. At least he only aches and pains he actively feels are in his back and arms. He does regular upkeep on his paralyzed parts at the end of every day so he doesn't miss any problems, but the chair is survival at this point. Soon he'll get the new one.

"Surprisingly they did have an accessible van which I appreciate. I really did not want to have to get a ride everywhere I went." Travel in this world is necessary. To have that closed off to him would have been beyond frustrating. Charles likes that he can get around much more than he used to be able to without a driver.

"Charles Xavier." He offers a hand up to Daryl, pausing his roll.

[trailmark]

Of course this place didn't have something useful for someone who might actually need it. Daryl scoffs softly at that, shaking his head as they go. "Better late than never, I guess," he offers with a shrug of one shoulder. Having actual engineers working on something sounds promising, at least, and he wonders briefly how much more work they've got left to do on it. He might have just gotten here, but there have been others who have been around for a while. "Let me know if they need something for it. I'll see what I can do."

If it's a pain in the ass getting around in this area, he's sure it's probably worse in other places. Other places like back home where the roads are ruined and blocked, plants growing in places they hadn't before, cars and corpses blocking paths. It's a thought that makes him think of Hershel, how the man had lost his leg. The Governor who killed him.

But the pausing in the rolling, the hand being offered to him, is enough to bring his attention back to the moment. To the situation. He stares at that hand for a few, long seconds before finally reaching out to shake it. It's a firm, steady shake, followed by a short squeeze. An attempt at being friendly even if he's quick to pull his hand away.

Then after a moment, as if realizing he owes Charles something in return, "Daryl."

hospital!

[godfragment]

It takes some time before he finally decides to take Charles up on his offer to talk. Part of it is doubt-- how much advice can a young, mortal man really offer to something that has existed for eons? Even if there are parts of him now that feel painfully, uncertainly new. And part of it is caution. He never quite knows how much to share, or what effect his truths will have on others. Whether honesty will simply seed more fear, more suspicion about his presence among them.

But then there's an incident. One he doesn't care to recall too closely, except that he'd lost control of himself. Too quick to anger, too easily unmoored. And the aftermath - shame, regret, that familiar tight ache of knowing he's frightened people - has left him restless. The need to rein himself in feels sharper now, more immediately pressing. So he comes.

The hospital is bright and sterile, air humming faintly with artificial light. He moves through it with care, robes brushing softly against the floor, his dark, impossible form drawing a few wary glances from visitors. Nothing he isn't used to. But there’s no panic this time, no screaming. Just curiosity, mild unease. He can live with that.

He asks for Charles at reception, voice pitched low and steady, then retreats a step to wait. There's an awkwardness to the way he stands-- too still, too large, something not built for mortal spaces trying to take up as little of it as possible.

Thank you for your patience!

[thetruefocus]

As Charles said, the hospital is one of the least likely places to give him trouble for looking different. So much of the city has been here at one point, and many of them non-human beings. They've had to learn how to treat the health of various species, and injuries that wouldn't make sense to human doctors, so it's a place very few people blink twice at.

It's why he felt like he could tell them about his abilities. In general, he's been more open about it, including his public forum post. But here, it's come in handy a few times when people couldn't communicate verbally, or spoke various languages that he can push past mentally when given permission. So he's found a few good things to accomplish here, outside of his job in the boring paperwork side of things.

Charles is found checking on a non-verbal patient, and he wheels his way out of the room and into the reception hall. He has dark brown hair freshly trimmed to his chin, and a well-groomed beard with a bit of red in it. He's well-dressed, even a little posh by the standards around here, which is a stark contrast to how old and rusty his wheelchair looks. He's getting a new one soon.

He was warned that the person looking for him was not human, so there's only a slight widening of vivid blue eyes when he spots John, but it's not anything more than that. His adopted sister was blue and had scales in parts of her bare body. He's used to it. "Hello there, I am Charles Xavier, I heard you were looking for me?"

no worries at all!!

[godfragment]

The man who approaches looks small and neat and unassuming-- ordinary, even, if well-dressed. Very human. He notes the wheelchair, though, remembers the mention of it from the bulletin, feels sure - before the man even speaks - that this must be Charles.

He catches the subtle widening of the man's eyes as they meet his own shadowy face, the brief flicker of something - surprise, perhaps, or apprehension - but it's small enough that it barely stirs him. The only discomfort that tugs at him now is his own height, the way he towers over the seated man. For a moment he considers altering his form, drawing himself down into something less imposing-- but that might feel even stranger, more conspicuous. Fuck if he knows.

So he leaves himself as he is, and simply extends one long, dark hand in greeting. The gesture feels formal, careful, practiced-- one he's seen and mirrored often enough to understand its shape, if not always its comfort. The movement is a touch tentative nonetheless; too many people have flinched from the thought of touching him for it not to be. He wouldn't blame Charles if he did, either.

"John Doe," he says, by way of introduction, the deep, resonant timbre of his voice carrying an odd, multiplied note-- one sound layered faintly over another, like an echo caught out of time. "Although I don't think I introduced myself when we spoke over the bulletin. You suggested I visit you here."

A pause, brief but deliberate. His gaze flicks sideways, toward the other people drifting through the hospital reception.

"About... control," he continues, lowering his voice slightly, "over certain abilities I have."

He doesn't elaborate further, not where others might overhear.

[thetruefocus]

Charles reaches out to take his hand without hesitation, shaking it firmly. There is a part of him genuinely curious about what this particular person feels like, if there are scales like Raven has. The tentacles and tendrils makes him think a bit of an octopus or a snake, but obviously John is his own thing. He is used to people towering over him. John being extra tall doesn't change that it's the same thing, him tipping his head back to look at him.

"Ah, yes, I remember you!" Charles doesn't forget details like that. He was hoping that the people he spoke to would find their way to him eventually. He gestures toward John. "Please, follow me." He wheels himself down the hallway, trusting that John will be behind him. It's not a particularly busy day. Charles' 'office' isn't much more than a section of a large storage area that was cleaned out specifically for him. The filing system is well-organized in his area, and that's what he's been doing primiarily. There are new files on his desk.

There is a chair across from said busy desk, and he gestures for John to take it if he wants. It is a pretty standard size, and he's uncertain from looking at him if sitting on a chair is comfortable for him, but Charles won't mind if he chooses to keep standing. This is more about getting them to a quiet place. The door is closed so it's quiet in there, and it has some semblance of privacy.

"You said you didn't feel like it was safe to practice your psychological abilities, yes?"

big top diner meeting

[americassed]

[ It's a Friday and Steve enters Big Top Diner on a mission. Not exactly a full-blown mission, but just to meet someone he considers important by virtue of wanting a community in this lawless place. Steve feels it's essential they build something akin to this, especially when most, if not all, fluxdrifts who arrive in this place need it. What Lois told him when they first met stuck out to him: are there no community buildings here?

After sending Charles a quick message of

Charles, this is Steve. I'll be in Big Top at around four in the afternoon. Booth 4. See you.

Steve arrives earlier than expected and immediately sits at the (thankfully) empty fourth booth. Once the waitress approaches him, he politely tells her he's waiting for someone else. Having arrived ten minutes earlier, he takes this as an opportunity to survey the area. He's been in this diner once, but it was a quick visit, only grabbing a to-go sandwich. Now, he's actually sitting to meet someone, interested in having this particular discussion with Charles in person. ]

[thetruefocus]

[ This has become a sort of unofficial hangout place for the X-Men, and Charles is often there. He finds the food decent, the people pleasant, and the tea legitimately worth having. It's hard to find a good cup around here, but they manage. He sees the message and sets aside his paperwork around four so he can come back to it later at the hospital. Busywork like what he does can be done at various hours, so he doesn't have the most obvious schedule, which suits what he wants to do. And when the tent school opens.

Charles was pleased overall with how the forum post went. There were some concerns brought up, and he thinks that's a good thing as people shouldn't just accept everything they're told. The fact that several concerns were brought up about the safety of those involved makes him think well of those people. The fact their minds went there means they're not the risks themselves. He can see the positive in anything. He was pleased to get a positive response out of Steve, and a follow-up to their messages.

He wheels himself in with a smile at the waitress and a wiggle of his fingers in greeting. Charles has recently had a hair trim so it's just below his chin, and his beard is very clean and kept together these days, rather than the ragamuffin he arrived as.]

Steve, I presume? I'm Charles.

[ He parks the wheelchair next to the booth, and pushes himself up into it without any trouble. He comes here often enough that it's second nature, as is handling his handicap.]

Thank you for reaching out.

[americassed]

[ Steve stands up the moment Charles arrives, perfectly willing to help the man with his handicap. With the way he greets the waitress, it's obvious he's been to this diner several times, which only confirms what he has been told through their text exchanges.

He's also clean-shaven with his short blonde hair neatly parted. Due to how Panorama has grown colder, he's wearing a fitted sweatshirt. Probably one of two he thrifted that isn't ridden with holes. Steve's not a man who needs much, so he thinks this is already good enough.

He nods at Charles' question and once Steve sees him easily push himself into the booth, he also sits down. Extending a polite hand, he offers Charles a cordial smile. ]

Thanks also for seeing me on short notice. It's nice to meet you, Charles, our circumstances here aside.

[thetruefocus]

[ Charles takes his hand and shakes it firmly before letting it go. The waitress proves just how common his place here is by bringing a tea over immediately and offering to get Steve something too while she's there. Charles smiles warmly at her and calls her 'Kelly.' This location is closer to the hospital than some of the others which is why he comes here. He frequents the diner Karen and Wade work at too when he gets the chance, just to say hello to them.

Charles has managed to steal for himself decent more 'posh' clothing from the mall and the resort, so he can look his more WASP-y self. He couldn't get a lot of suits, nor would it really suit his day to day life, but he looks nice. He has a taste for fashion, so he can normally find it where other people would not too.]

It's a pleasure to meet you, yes, circumstances aside.

[ Charles wouldn't say he prefers this place to his home, nor that he would refuse to go home given the chance, but he's come to like it well enough not to be irritated.]

I appreciate your positive response to my post. All of the concerns upon it were perfectly reasonable, but you seemed to take it in the spirit it was meant.

[ He thinks those responses were actually indicative of people who cared about others and responsible, and he respected that. But that isn't to say he didn't appreciate the straight up acceptances.]

For John

[thetruefocus]

Charles is on his way back to his room after a long day at work. The hospital has been slightly quieter now that the chaos from the last month is over, and that means catching up on paperwork, which is where he excels. After being away in Kolliery with Erik, he came back to a lot to be done. He doesn't mind; he loves it, in fact, but his eyes are a little tired at the moment. He knows the way back at least and where not to worry about uneven roads, so he's on autopilot.

No one has alerted him yet to a new member of their world showing up, so as he passes John outside of the motel where all of them more or less live, he almost goes right by him. And then he pauses with his hands on the wheels, and literally back rolls around the way people do a double take. When Charles was in his older self's brain and he shared everything in a quick blip of their school, he transferred a great deal of information in a second. For telepaths, that's nothing. He can get someone's entire past in the time it takes to blink in their mind.

Still, it takes him a moment to match the face. He was younger for certain. A teenager, or a young man. It fills in all at once as the face and name connect. "John. John Allerdyce?" Charles is of course decades younger than when John knew him, with a beard and longer hair, so hard to recognize. Although one could argue that the resemblance between him and his alternate universe twin sister is there.

Emma Corrin could be his ACTUAL TWIN

[flame_off]

John has just run his own set of errands, some of which included hanging around less savory parts of town to see if he can figure out who the real shot-callers are around here. Scavenging the wastes is okay for some booze money, but if he's going to really earn his keep and build a decent amount of bank, he's going to need a proper gig. Contracts are the first thing he gravitates to, maybe out of an old desire to do some criming, maybe out of sheer loathing towards the idea of a "real" job.

So while he's going over the merits of whether he should integrate into the seedy underbelly of Panorama or join Erik at the Scrapyard, hearing his name startles him enough to switch into a threat state. It's the posh English accent, the face... Jesus, even with the beard and hair, this guy could be a fucking dead-ringer for Cassandra Nova.

A stab of fear kicks adrenaline into his veins, and he eyeballs the engine of the stranger's car, reaching out mentally to connect with the internal combustion system. Seeking that area where spark plugs ignite fuel and air, calling to that little flame just in case he needs its services. The reaction would be nearly instantaneous, fire exploding out of the cylinders to engulf that car at the speed of thought.

If he needs it.

"Yeah?" he asks, wary. His heart is already threatening to beat right out of his rib cage.

Seriously, I remember going 'insanely good casting'

[thetruefocus]

Charles doesn't entirely recall everything about John. He knows that he was a student who joined Erik. From there, it's a question mark. Those are the important facts, outside of knowing his fate, which he doesn't. In that future almost everyone was dead, so the odds weren't with him. Then again, he's older. He's closer to Charles' actual age, even. So perhaps he did make it, and he's from the same future as Rogue and Logan.

Or another one entirely. There are so many at this point that his head hurts if he thinks about it too much.

Charles is an expert at reading body language. He doesn't need to delve into John's mind to note that he is tense. He suspects it is the obvious; he doesn't look like the Xavier he knew, so it's a stranger saying his name. It wouldn't occur to him that he has a dead ringer of a twin in the Void.

"Charles Xavier. From 1973, so a few decades younger than the one you knew." He and Erik are from the same time, and they don't quite fit in with this world or with the rest of the X-Men, but he's managed to work it out better as of late. "It's a pleasure to meet you officially."

[flame_off]

Strangely enough, self-identifying as Charles Xavier doesn't make John feel any better. It's not a pleasure to meet, and the genteel, polished manners just set his teeth on edge. This could literally be Cassandra Nova fucking with him in ways heretofore unimaginable by sane people, or it could be one of the infinite Variants of the Xavier that John knew as a teenager. Neither are particularly appealing, but the former much, much less so.

To that point: "Since when did you have hair?"

If this is an illusion, it's a shitty one that deserves to be called out. If it's not? Well, that's a much weirder conversation. Cassandra Nova had been bald from birth as far as he knew, and it was easy to assume the same about Charles. The sheer degree to which they favor each other doesn't do much to slow his heartbeat down.

[thetruefocus]

Every time! Charles isn't surprised, but he is very defensive of his hair. He is certain something must have happened to cause his baldness in the future, because he has no genetic predisposition to baldness. It would have already showed in thinning out! One of his streaks of ego has to do with his hair because he considers it an attractive quality. It's fine. Not John's fault.

"I always had hair. Up until a point in the future when that changed." He doesn't expect John to greet him as warmly as the other X-Men. He was one of Erik's people in the end. He left the school. It's never been a prison, and Charles believes everyone should choose their own path. All he could hope for was that Erik would take care of him.

"Have you seen Erik? I suspect you'll be happier to see him than me." It's a neutral statement. It's more due to Charles wanting to be certain that someone he trusts can look out for John while he's here. He is unlikely to allow the other X-Men to do so, but he is still one of them. He's a mutant. He needs and deserves back up.