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

[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?

[wedonot]

[Should he not ask. :c]

Moira witnessed some rather disturbing events that not only revealed that there were mutants in the world, but also that a small group of them was manipulating the US government to engage in nuclear war with the Soviet Union. She wanted to talk to an expert in genetic mutation and found me in Oxford just after I'd presented my thesis.

[And he hit on her. And she had no time for his crap.]

[nobelist]

[Probably not. :c]

...Interestin'. [That's one word for it, anyway.] You sorted it out, I hope.

[wedonot]

I'm sure you've heard of the Cuban Missile Crisis.

[nobelist]

[She just stares for a second. Again. Then she pinches the bridge of her nose, hiding a smile.]

O' course.

[wedonot]

It's a long story.

[nobelist]

It usually is. [Her hand drops, and her smile stays.] Glad ye both came out the other side.

[wedonot]

[There's that brief, weird look on his face again for a fraction of a second because. Well.]

Several months ago, when our communications network malfunctioned like this, I spoke with an alternate Charles Xavier who told me a little about you. About us.

[nobelist]

[Her expression goes soft.] Did 'e, then.

You an' her - ?

[wedonot]

It's complicated.

[nobelist]

[A faint, wry smile.] Often is.

We haven't - not in a long while. But he's a dear friend.

[wedonot]

That's good to hear. [MAYBE THERE'S HOPE!!]

[nobelist]

[A slight nod.] If she's anything at all like me - she wants to help, with all her heart. Let her.

[wedonot]

I wasn't planning on shutting her out.

[... this time. After wiping her memories made him feel terrible. B(]