SEVENTY NINE ✖ VIDEO

[wedonot]

[He's been here long enough to witness this event two previous times, and it's always been strange, and often a little upsetting. More than a little, actually. But it's hard to resist knowing that he might be able to hear from people back home he hasn't seen in far too long, so he does eventually click on the feed to see who's out there this time.

He's sitting at his desk, and is fiddling with a little plastic figurine of a weird looking bug creature. (The others are on the desk nearby.) He smiles]

This is [There's a fraction of a second of hesitation as he debates at the last second whether or not ] Dr. Charles Xavier. If Sean, Hank and Armando are out there, I would very much appreciate hearing from you.

[Although he will also take calls from anyone else as well. c:]

Comments

[nobelist]

[Moira just stares at the screen, for a moment. Then she blinks hard, rubs her eyes, and stares again.]

Aye, I suppose I do need more sleep.

[wedonot]

[She looks familiar, and he knows enough about a certain someone's counterpart to think he might know who this is, but it still seems a bit presumptuous to just make that assumption.

... Then again, he does have a bad habit of being presumptuous, and making assumptions.]

I can't say it isn't a good idea.

[nobelist]

[Not so different after all, really.

Moira smiles, a bit, ruefully grim.]

So they keep tellin' me, but I've a job t'do. [She's resting now, just for a moment, because if she's too weak to focus she'll make a shite doctor.]

An' besides, if you are Charles Xavier, you've no room to talk.

[wedonot]

I've been on something of an extended vacation. [Not. That this is really a vacation at all, but there's no reason to worry anyone unnecessarily. And it's not like he hasn't been sleeping lately, anyway.]

What's the job?

[nobelist]

Mmmhmm. [Charley's idea of a vacation was travelling the world searching for wayward mutants.]

Healin', or it's meant to be. I'm no' any medical doctor, but I've enough knowledge t'be useful.

[wedonot]

Not like I'd expect anything less.

[Although holy crap, he still feels absurdly guilty for you know. Everything. Involving the Moira he knows. B(

Anddd it might sort of flicker briefly across his face, whoops.]

[nobelist]

[Her brow furrows. She always caught her Charles's moods; apparently, this one is similar enough. She knows that look.]

Ye do know me, then. [Interesting.] ...Everett interpretation? [It's something she and Charles have discussed, if only briefly. His team met other X-Men, when they went to Limbo, X-Men who suffered terrible fates.]

[wedonot]

I would assume so. The Moira MacTaggert I know is an American.

[Among other things. :V]

[nobelist]

Och, really? [She looks offended.] Is she at least a geneticist, then?

[wedonot]

She works for the CIA as a field agent.

[Or. She used to. GUESS WHO IS AN ASSHOLE.]

[nobelist]

[What even the fuck, and does she get a prize if she does.]

That's...a different turn, that is. [A part of her wants to ask - ] MacTaggert. That her married name too, then?

[wedonot]

[It's cheating if you know the answer already.]

I don't think so. She never mentioned being married.

[nobelist]

...Good. [Her voice is quieter, now. It's strange, but - if there's a Moira who never met Joseph MacTaggert, she's glad of it.]

How's we met, then, if not at school?

[wecanavenge]

[No but wtf is this]

MacTaggert? [He followed her conversation with Charles and he still doesn't believe it. wtf.]

[nobelist]

An' who are you, then?

[wecanavenge]

[He'd find that interesting, but mostly he's just bewildered.]

Erik Lensherr.

[nobelist]

[Wah.

Blatant staring, yep.]

I'd say you're havin' me on, but I suppose if Charley can have hair...

[wecanavenge]

Then mine can be brown? [Wry wry wry]

[nobelist]

Aye. [A sudden, broad smirk.] Doesn't look half bad, mind.

[wecanavenge]

Better than silver. [Sorry Pietro???]

How do you know Charles?

[nobelist]

Don't knock it. [You'll probably be silver-haired one day regardless.]

Met him at Oxford.

[wecanavenge]

[No he refuses to grow old u_u] I'm quite happy as a brunette.

In what capacity? [Because obviously she didn't show up to make him help the CIA...]

[nobelist]

A friendly one. An' a business one, of sorts, later on. I run a mutant research facility.

[wecanavenge]

What sort of research? [His voice is hard. Logic says Charles would never back something that wasn't on the up and up, but memories have a way of swaying reaction.]

[nobelist]

[Her voice grows heavy.] Some mutants - their abilities make their lives more difficult than they ought to. I try an figure' ways to help them handle it.

General knowledge helps, as well - most hospitals have no way t'deal with mutant physiologies. [A thin, sharp smile.] Granted, most don't care t'know, but we try.