wedonot: (Well we're boned.)
Dr. Charles Xavier ([personal profile] wedonot) wrote2013-04-19 03:39 pm

FIFTY SIX ✖ SPAM/VIDEO

[Spam for Erik]

[He could remember dying. He'd known he'd already lost way too much blood, and his too smart for his own good brain was reminding him that it can take only minutes to bleed out after severing the right artery, and from the amount of blood, he could tell the damage was bad. Really bad.

Shaw had been looking down at him, shaking his head and smiling almost apologetically, patronizing, like Charles was just a child who had done something almost endearing, but against the rules all the same, and thus punishment had to be dealt out. They'd exchanged words - not really the poignant last words Charles would have liked to be remembered for, if he had to die - and Shaw had just clucked his tongue and shook his head before almost shrugging and turning away, like it didn't matter anymore.]


"Well, I suppose now it can't hurt."

[He'd pulled the helmet off, and Charles couldn't help it, his mind was too weak, he couldn't control the impulse to reach out to it, and suddenly he could hear everything, and he wanted to scream, but he didn't have the energy. It was awful, it was too much, he could see too many things, Shaw's visions of the future, with him as king of a desolate wasteland, in the White House of all places, and snatches of things he'd done, talking to the kids, calmly destroying the CIA agents at the base, killing Darwin, and worse things, things he'd done before Cuba, during the war, at one of the camps, torturing a mutant child after shooting his mother in front of him, trying to force him into using his gift by any means necessary, and he couldn't hold back a strangled grunt that would have been a scream if he wasn't bleeding to death and choking on his own blood.

Everything had started fading, his vision getting spotty, and it was strange, but he could hear something, something talking to him, asking what wouldn't he do to reverse this, to stop this all from happening, it's a person - a man? - but Shaw and Azazel and Angel and the other man didn't seem to notice him, and he's telling him about an opportunity, and yes, yes, Charles didn't care what it was, he just wanted to fix this, he just wanted this to have never happened, he just wanted everyone to be safe-

He could remember all that. But he wasn't dead. He was still breathing, and although he ached all over, it didn't hurt anymore, and he grimaced and tried to force his eyes open, squinting against the brightness, slowly pushing himself to a sitting position and trying to inspect the damage.

Except... there wasn't really any. There was blood all over the front of the gray jumpsuit he'd been issued by the CIA, staining the fabric a rusty black, but there was no sign of the wound, like it just never happened, except the evidence of it was all over him. He could still remember what it felt like, the hot line of pain through his abdomen as the blade had gone in, punching through the protective material like it was nothing, and then slowly dragging out again before his knees gave out and he collapsed to the floor. There was dried blood on his chin, too, smeared on his lips, but he could breathe freely again, the wet feeling of blood in his lungs long gone even as he felt panic start to rise in his chest.

And suddenly he realized that he recognized this place, this room. It was a room at the mansion, somewhere he hadn't been since he left for Oxford, somewhere he honestly wouldn't have been sorry never see again, except it looked lived in. Like he'd been living here, or someone had just dropped his things off and expected him to be staying here.

What the hell was happening?]


Moira? [It was barely more than a mumble as he tried to scrub the blood off his chin, slowly pushing himself to his feet and fighting dizziness.] Moira?

[No response. He couldn't feel her mind, either, or the minds of anyone else familiar, not Raven or the other recruits, or any of the agents they'd worked with, or Shaw and his followers. He stumbled over to the door, pulling it open and saw-

Well. Not the hallways of the mansion, that's for sure.]


Moira!

[He's panicking, he knows he's panicking, and once he calms down, he'll remember having made a deal with the Admiral, but right now calm feels very far away, and the conversation with the Admiral maybe just like a hallucination, and so he runs down the hall and up the stairs, finally tearing open the door to the deck and seeing-

Stars. He's in space. Open space, and he couldn't tell if he'd forgotten how to breathe or if he was just hyperventilating as he staggers out and away from the door, completely failing at coping at all with what he was seeing.

He'd died. Azazel had killed him, Shaw had won, and this - whatever this was - was the afterlife, and he sucked in a gasp of air that sounded more like a miserable sob than anything else, because this meant that everything, everything was gone.]


[Public]

[Charles doesn't manage to post anything to the network until around midday, and when he does, he's at least showered and changed his clothes, but he still looks exhausted and a little in shock. There are dark bags under his eyes, and he looks pale and less well put together than usual. His hair's a little mussed, and he's wearing a gray t-shirt instead of his usual button up shirts and sweaters. He can barely seem to manage a smile for the camera, and his voice is tired and deliberate.]

My name is Charles Xavier, and I suppose I've been taken on by the Admiral to work here as a warden for the time being. If anyone has any advice or words of wisdom, I would appreciate hearing them.

[He looks like he's maybe considering saying something else, but instead just reaches over to turn off the feed.]
burnmythoughts: (Default)

Video

[personal profile] burnmythoughts 2013-04-19 08:58 pm (UTC)(link)
[It's the flood. It's the flood. It's the flood.

She has to believe that, because otherwise she'll just fall apart for a while.

Her own smile is a little wobbly, but friendly.]


Hey, Charles. I'm Jean.

I guess the biggest thing is "expect the unexpected".

burnmythoughts: (Smile)

Video

[personal profile] burnmythoughts 2013-04-19 09:17 pm (UTC)(link)
[Her chest tightens, a little, but her smile stays fast.]

You too.

Did you just get here? Have you had anything to eat, or anything?
burnmythoughts: (Concerned)

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[personal profile] burnmythoughts 2013-04-19 10:51 pm (UTC)(link)
Yeah. I can show you, if you want.

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godsays: (51)

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[personal profile] godsays 2013-04-19 09:40 pm (UTC)(link)
Not easy to summon wisdom on command.
godsays: (48)

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[personal profile] godsays 2013-04-19 10:03 pm (UTC)(link)
My name is Zane. New, too. So I might not have been very helpful anyway.
godsays: (44)

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[personal profile] godsays 2013-04-19 10:04 pm (UTC)(link)
A week. [ More or less. ]

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Video - want to spam?

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itstopped: (smile: pride?)

[personal profile] itstopped 2013-04-20 04:53 am (UTC)(link)
[The man who replies now is younger than the Felix the other Charles knows; physically a few years younger, but also without the marks of stress that have worn his counterpart down. His hair is free of gray and cut short; he's dressed in a pin-straight blue uniform, two gold pips on his collar.]

Welcome aboard, Mr. Xavier. My name is Lieutenant Gaeta. I'll be working with you for the time being. ...As a fellow warden, I mean. Not necessarily directly.

You wouldn't happen to be from Caprica, would you?
Edited 2013-04-20 04:54 (UTC)
itstopped: (cynical: NOT CYNICAL)

[personal profile] itstopped 2013-04-20 06:04 am (UTC)(link)
[He doesn't seem at all surprised, conversely, by the refusal, although he sighs when he hears it.]

Ah, well. It was worth a shot. You have the accent, and I can't help but hope I'll meet someone from the Colonies here one of these days.
itstopped: (misc: determination)

[personal profile] itstopped 2013-04-20 06:10 am (UTC)(link)
My world. Unfortunately gone now, but not for long. Still... I can't help but think that out of 28 billion of us, it would have been nice if one other person had made it here to help me out with that.

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wecanavenge: (Master of the single tear)

[Spam]

[personal profile] wecanavenge 2013-04-20 10:30 pm (UTC)(link)
[Erik was a simple man, and he led a simple life, and he had tried to continue that here. He kept his mutation secret, for the most part - he was more open about it here than he had ever been at home, and sometimes that thrilled him, but sometimes it terrified him. There wasn't much work he could do with it, not like at home where he'd built houses and done it so easily. But he liked working, he liked using his hands and sweating during the day, and feeling like he'd accomplished something when he went home.

Magda and Anya weren't here - well, the ones he had been used to, anyway - and there wasn't exactly anyone to go home to, but it was still nice to work under the sun, however fake it might be.

He'd taken to working in the garden, occasionally, because though it wasn't back breaking work, it was still getting his hands dirty and seeing some profit of his labor at the end of the day. He was just leaving the greenhouse when the newcomer burst onto the scene. Erik hung back, watching that panic, wary - people lash out when they're afraid - but he knows the signs of hyperventilation, so he starts forward, holding out a hand and waving slightly to get Charles' attention.]


Hey, it's all right. Are you okay?
wecanavenge: (No.)

[Spam]

[personal profile] wecanavenge 2013-04-20 11:16 pm (UTC)(link)
I'm afraid I don't know a Moira. [His accent is heavier than normal, German, but his English is fluent enough. The blood, though, that makes his eyebrows draw together, because he hadn't entirely noticed it at first - or at least, hadn't realized the extent.]

My God, man - what happened to you?

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supersonic: (pic#6053360)

private; audio

[personal profile] supersonic 2013-04-21 07:05 am (UTC)(link)
[ The feed comes alive in audio only, but at first there's only silence and ragged breath. He doesn't know what to say. It's Charles Xavier, alright, but not his. This one is so much younger, already a little world-weary but not near so much as he'll become. At that age, he has probably never even met Wanda.

But the Charles Xavier he knows hadn't condemned his sister to die because of what she'd done; he'd condemned her because of what she might do. There's a beautiful symmetry to it, something hollowly satisfying in taking that logic to its natural conclusion. The last huff of breath is almost a smile, and he says one word before cutting the feed: ]


Run.
tolaywaste: ▶ like he really really hates politics (╳ day by day)

private; how late is anne? SO LATE :>

[personal profile] tolaywaste 2013-04-22 05:04 pm (UTC)(link)
What the hell are you talking about? You've been here for over a year.

[Charles is not affected that is bullshit he's just been hit over the head or something.]
tolaywaste: ▶ x-kid could talk this out peacefully (╳ it's across the tracks)

private;

[personal profile] tolaywaste 2013-04-22 05:17 pm (UTC)(link)
No, she's not - seriously, what are you talking about? She's not with me. She's gone.

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