(no subject)

[axiomed]

Who: Charles Xavier + You
Broadcast: Video
Action: SS Heron
When: Right now!

[ The video starts with Charles sitting on his wheelchair, his hands neatly folded on his lap. He rubs faint circles on his legs for a few seconds, the only real sign of tension. ]

Hello. My names is Charles Xavier. I am a geneticist graduated from Oxford. I -- [ ran ] -- run a school in Westchester for the Gifted. Mutants. People with abilities. My focus is the training and control of abilities we do not always fully understand, abilities that are gifts but can often run amok.

[ He pauses, catching his second wind before continuing on, poised. ]

I am also a telepath with a full set of abilities in aiding the mind and extremely . . . proficient. I do not read minds without permission, because honestly, I really don't care.

[ Charles pauses again, wondering if he should say more and dismisses it. People can ask him if they need details - which they will. ]

If anyone would like to make use of my abilities and skills, they are certainly most welcome to. Confidentiality, of course, is key and you need not make anything public if you do not wish to. If you have any questions for me, the floor is open for you.

Comments

[axiomed]

[ Charles swallows lightly. That kind of sentiment was familiar and he remembers it deep in his bones. ]

It's important to work together to survive.

[throwsdown]

[Takeshi smiles a bit more confidently.]

Yeah. Nobody makes it on their own.

[axiomed]

[ Charles nods. He doesn't want to linger on it though. ]

Would you let me look? At the things that are hard to say.

[throwsdown]

[After another thoughtful pause — he gives a nod.]

How do you see it?

[axiomed]

You just have to think about the memory and I will see it.

[throwsdown]

Just think...? And you see the whole thing...?

[He hesitates.]

You don't feel anything that hurts, right? Nothing that hurts, like - if someone gets hurt?

[axiomed]

No, not like that. I'll feel the emotions, the pain, but there will be no real physical wounds. And it'll pass away quickly.

IDK HOW DETAILED HE SEES THINGS but here's some horrible stuff | cw child abuse

[throwsdown]

[He frowns deeply. He doesn't wanna hurt him.

But he said he was used to it... S-so... So it's okay, right? He closes his eyes, trying to focus his brain on the first bad thing — the worst thing for him, even though the true horrors rest later in life. The worst moment, where things changed.

He's four, and he's outside. Playing alone as women stand in front of the apartments, gossiping aimlessly. He wanders back down the street towards his own apartment complex, opens the unlocked door. Mom is asleep in bed, as she almost always is midday. She barely stirs when he shakes her lightly. He never wants to make her angry.

"I'm hungry."

She doesn't flip over, doesn't budge at all. "There should be something in the fridge." He wanders by the cluttered, tiny apartment, stepping around messes; he finds a cup of unopened pudding. He's excited at the thought of sweets; he'd have sweets every day for breakfast if he could. Sweets and pancakes with banana slices for eyes. He's never had those, but he wants to try them.

She says the pudding's okay. It's hard to tell if she knows what he even asked about. Mom's bad at paying attention. He sits and draws his favorite hero, Muscle Rider, and eats the tasty pudding. The front door opens. His heartbeat speeds up, palms and neck sweating, cold. Don't do anything. Don't move. If he doesn't move, nobody pays attention. The man sits and plays the video games Takeshi's not allowed to touch. Mom rises for him, though. He's lost thirty thousand, he says, but Takeshi doesn't understand what it means.

Mom and her boyfriend talk about going to karaoke. Takeshi can't bring himself to even so much as draw, tension in his body, anxiety pumping through his thoughts. The boyfriend goes to the fridge, he opens it. Who the fuck took my pudding?"

His voice cuts through the room, a threat in his voice.

Takeshi breathes faster under his breath. His hands shake around the crayon. He hugs his sketchbook to his chest because he's not sure what else to do when the man starts pulling his mom's hair. Hard. He knows it's definitely got to hurt, but he doesn't know what to do. His mother makes a terrible shriek noise and says panicked, "It was Takeshi, Takeshi ate it!"

He lectures, but Takeshi's ears feel like they're full of cotton — he hears brat, and then suddenly there's a heavy hand hitting him on the temple. Hard. There's an explosion of stars in his eyes and his hands fly to cover the crown of his head. His thoughts are incoherent, all instinctive panic. He wishes he had a time machine. He wishes he could give the pudding back. Tears brim in his eyes, and the boyfriend's hackles rise. "Stop crying, or I'll kill you!" Another slap that burns his cheek.

Mom smokes a cigarette, calm. She tells the boyfriend not to hit him on the head, because of the social workers. Takeshi remembers those people, but he's too scared to think of much else. It doesn't settle the man. He lashes out with his foot, and Takeshi's stomach hurts suddenly so bad, worse than worse, worse than eating bad food. He cries out for Muscle Rider, because his hero would be the one to save him, but it just makes the man angrier. He kicks and kicks and it hurts, and all he can think to do is keep crying out for Muscle Rider. The boyfriend keeps asking for the pudding back. Takeshi regrets touching his things.

They leave him laying on the floor. They think he's playing dead, but he's just not sure how to move right now. When they leave for karaoke, they leave him there in a heap. He slowly pulls himself to his knees, and the world see-saws, and the pain is all-encompassing, blooming from the pit of his stomach, through his ribs, radiating in his back. He tries to go back to normal activities. He keeps drawing Muscle Rider. Maybe he just needs to rest. Maybe it'll hurt less if he rests and tries to not think about it. It's how he's always done it before.

"Please come help me, muscle rider."

He feels suddenly too tired, and his limbs give out, and he falls on his back. Something in his mouth tastes gross and coppery, fizzles when his lungs burn to drag air. He stares at the ceiling, the black encroaching on his vision until there's nothing left —

The memory stops. He leans back, a troubled expression on his face as he looks down, flustered.]

[axiomed]

[ Charles has seeped himself in minds before. Nothing really prepares him for the depth of it, the pain, the confusion. It washes over him completely. There is no Charles, just Takeshi and Charles is Takeshi. He feels every blow, weathers every abuse until it slides away into his heart. Carefully, he smooths over the pain of the memory. Charles wouldn't erase it. He couldn't. While at times, he feels the urge to take it all away, he knows it would fix anything.

( and he knows, knows in his beaten heart, how easy it can be to pretend you're not in pain, to drown it out. No more voices, no more pain, no more people. )

Finally, he pulls back with a faint gasp. It's been some time since he's gone in so deep. Briefly he wipes his eyes. Already, the hurts were seceding away. ]

I'm sorry.

[throwsdown]

[Takeshi looks absolutely concerned for Mr. Charles, to be sure. His brow wrinkles and uncertainty draws on his features. Oh, maybe this wasn't a good idea...! He was really worried about upsetting him...! It's a lot, he knows. He should have thought a little gentler!]

Are you okay?

It's alright, Mr. Charles. I'm alright!

[He pats his chest.]

It only hurt for a little while. I'm fine now. All better!

[axiomed]

[ He manages a faint smile. ]

Of course. You're a strong boy.

[throwsdown]

[He shakes his head, somber.]

I don't think I am... M'not very strong. Everybody else has to stop the biggest monsters...

A-and here, I don't even got my supersuit...

[axiomed]

[ He softens. ]

There are many kinds of strength. Sometimes, even the people who stop the monsters need a hug or a smile to remind them what they're fighting for.

[throwsdown]

[He considers that quietly. He'd gotten so used to being able to hold his own, and even though he's armed here, he still... worries about his worth to the team. But then, he can't say that Mr. Charles is wrong. There's lots of ways to be strong. He smiles a bit, though it's shy.]

I guess that's true...! I guess I can help people in other ways.

[axiomed]

Our strongest powers don't come from suits or how strong we are.

[ He points to his heart. ] They come from here.

[throwsdown]

[He puts his hands over his heart, smiling now despite how sheepish he's become.]

Even if it breaks.

[axiomed]

And if that happens. . .

[ He lightly tousles Takeshi's hair. ]

Just drop by and I'll fix it for you.

[throwsdown]

[He can't hold back his humored giggle, giving a little salute.]

Yessir! I'll remember, I promise!

[axiomed]

Excellent.