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FORTY EIGHT ✖ VIDEO
 | [Moira's done her homework beyond the whole just rolling with the bare bones she's been told about the Barge already, but she's not going to be letting that on. In her experience, it's been better to play your cards close to the vest until you're really sure of what's going on, here, and so she just smiles politely at the camera and doesn't let on that it 1. took her a minute or two to figure out how to work the comm in the first place and 2. that she's already poked around through some of the public stuff on the network to familiarize herself with the situation and know what she was getting herself into.] My name's Moira MacTaggert, and I guess I'll be filling in for Charles for the next few days. [Her smile goes from polite to somewhere between fond and wry.] I guess I shouldn't really be surprised he thought this would be an interesting place to spend a few months. Redemption's right up his alley. I just hope he hasn't subjected too many of you to his genetics pick up lines. [There's a brief moment where the smile fades slightly and it almost looks like she's debating saying something else, because she really wants to ask how he's doing here. The last time she checked (... a few hours ago, really, from her perspective), he wasn't exactly the happiest camper, but as much as she's worried, she doesn't want to just let everyone know he's been struggling, because Charles doesn't want people to know. So she drops it, resolving to ask Alex, if he's really here, and otherwise hope for the best.] Anyway, if anyone needs him for anything, I can't promise I'll be able to really fill in for him, but I'll do my best if you're willing to give me a shot. [Private to Erik] [Again, Moira's done her homework, and so she knows who's living right next door and that's... slightly unsettling, considering the last time they'd seen each other had involved the two of them accidentally paralyzing Charles and then Erik trying to kill her for it. But she's not a coward, and she'd rather get this conversation out of the way sooner rather than later, so once she figures out how to use the communicator's filters, she's letting him know she knows who's on the other side of the wall.] I know you're here, Lensherr. |
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[She sounds proper as hell, like she might have actually curtsied if they were meeting in person.]
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[What. The fuck.]
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I take it you aren't fond of my father?
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The Erik Lensherr I know doesn't have any kids.
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Yes, he made that emphatically clear. But the parallels are...let's say significant, between universes. The shared name isn't coincidence.
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Mine is more intensely supremacist, and refuses to wear shirts.
[She rattles it off, not indifferently, but with something that sounds like professional distance. Yeah, those are the important differences. Good job.]
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[Erik keep your shirt on, please.]
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And we all hope it stays that way.
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Why did you assume I don't like him?
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It's usually a safe assumption. And your reaction wasn't exactly effusive.
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[Meaning Charles, the kids, and stopping Shaw, but Charles is mostly what's making her kinda :V about him now rather than >C]
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[Her tone isn't idle, exactly, but it's light, curiosity for it's own sake.]
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[It's not shocked; just the mild kind of pleasantly surprised.]
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[Although he almost turned around and started it himself, but. ANYWAY.]
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