wedonot | TWENTY SIX ✖ SPAM/TELEPATHY

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TWENTY SIX ✖ SPAM/TELEPATHY

[(Telepathy) Spam for Jean and Morgana]

[It was frustrating, to lie awake at night and not be able to get to sleep. Actual insomnia and not I really need to finish this paper and therefore can't get to sleep at regular hours lack of sleep was almost a foreign concept to Charles, because while it was true that it wasn't like he'd never had nightmares before, these were worse, more frequent, and couldn't be brushed off as a figment of his imagination, or a memory he'd absorbed from someone else. They'd actually happened, to him, and when he did finally get to sleep, it often wasn't for very long.

Tonight, sleep was being especially evasive, so he read, and tried to find ways to occupy himself and hopefully wear himself down enough that he'd eventually have to go to sleep. But his eyes had started feeling gritty and sore, and the words had started to blur together, so he'd finally crawled into bed, and... couldn't fall asleep.

It was late. Very late, and he couldn't let his mind wander without it starting to dive into territory he really didn't want to confront anymore than he already had, so, as he did every few nights since port had ended, he carefully extended his telepathy to check on people.

He couldn't sense Erik at all, which was to be expected, even though his friend was likely lying awake next door trying to fend off nightmares himself. Charles wanted to help, but he knew Erik would be stubborn about accepting it, or just outright refuse, and he didn't want to fight with him right now. Merlin and Arthur were sleeping, which really made sense, as it was late, and he didn't linger too long in their dreams, enough to try and smooth them out a little instead of taking a turn for the worse. They'd never even realize he'd been there.

Which left Morgana and Jean for tonight, and he carefully reached out to them separately, hoping they were asleep and weren't dreaming.]

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[Jean hasn't has nightmares - brutal, awful, frightful nightmares - for a long time. It's dangerous, for her. Xavier taught her techniques to sooth her mind, to draw her into the deepest sleep.

She tried. She really did.

But the helpless horror of those few days has been steadily catching up to her, and it's too great to combat alone any more.

She's in the cages again, and corpses litter the floor beside her, ever shifting; the Professor, Erik, the X-Men, Annie.

The Vanquish, too, never quite hold their form - sometimes they're the monsters she'd so desperately fought against. Sometimes they look like sentinels, or lava men, or demons; flickers of Magneto and the Juggernaut.

Always they sneer at her she tries to fight, sluggish and weak, her strikes sliding off of them.

You're useless, little girl. You couldn't save them. You're going to die here.

She can't do anything to them, as they drag her kicking and screaming through the same tests and tortures, but outside of her head, her rage isn't contained; it lifts her body and rocks her room, tearing through everything in its path.]

[Charles almost recoiled back sharply at the images. Really, he should have been expecting it, because he saw the same things whenever he closed his eyes at night (or even during the day, really, it wasn't like he'd managed to throw together a healthy sleep cycle after what had happened), but he'd hoped, maybe-

It didn't matter. He needed to get her to calm down, or, failing that, she needed to wake up. He can sense her getting out of control, and he's worried she'll hurt herself if she's not careful, and really, he just wanted to help. He'd been unable to do anything while they'd been held, but here he wasn't powerless, he could try to protect the people he cared about.

Throwing yourself into the dream didn't always help - sometimes you just got dragged along with the dreamer, a mistake he'd learned when he was much younger, and that wouldn't do anyone any good. They'd both lived through enough of this already, so instead of diving right in, he carefully projected calm and security. He's had enough experience soothing nightmares over the years that it comes naturally, even if he's now consciously trying not to think about Raven.]

Jean, it's alright. You're safe, this is only a dream. Wake up.

[It doesn't register, at first. She's too deep in her struggle, violent and helpless, echoed in the mounting chaos in her bedroom. They're dragging her down the passages again, and sometimes the dank row of cells flickers into the shining steel of Asteroid M, or the flat grey corridors of the sentinel base.

But then she can hear his voice, and feel the rage and horror begin to fade, the memory of agony begin to dull. Everything seems to slow - the brutes pulling her, her flailing limbs. The objects darting around her room follow suit.]

Dream? Professor?

[Everything lurches, then, and suddenly Jean is one her hands and knees, a sob wrenching from her throat.]

No, you're - you're gone, I couldn't -

I'm alright. [Or, he was going to be, anyway, they weren't in that place anymore. He wasn't sure he was ever going to stop feeling guilty about what had happened, though, but he choked down those feelings to focus on reassuring her.] We made it out. You're safe, they can't hurt you anymore.

[And again, he reenforces calm and safety, nudging aside the images of what had happened to keep them from tumbling back into the dreamscape.]

We're alright. I promise.

You promise? We're safe?

[The words are cracked, brittle things as she looks up. Nothingness twists around her, and suddenly they're somewhere safe - safe, and warm, and calm.

They're in the foyer of the school, scattered with arm chairs and book shelves. On one small table lay a discarded game of battleship; on another, a chess board. Sunlight shines through the tall windows.

It's neat enough, but there's a clear sense of being lived in, of teenage scuffles and friendly mischief.]

We're safe.

[It's a desperately hopeful whisper.]

[The setting's familiar, if not exactly the same, comfortable and safe, and it's another thing that just feels reassuring and pleasant about what the future might be like. There was still hope.]

We're safe.

[And since it seems like things are starting to level out a bit, he let himself project into the dream, offering Jean a hand up off the floor.]

Are you alright?

[Jean accepts it immediately, and as soon as she's up, she's all but clinging to Charles for dear life.]

No.

[What's the point of lying, after that?]

I wanted to be, I really did, but...

[But it's just too much. Every lingering ache reminds her of where it came from. Every sudden movement makes her flinch. Every shout makes her tense. And it just keeps getting worse.]

[Charles doesn't really want to admit it, but he was holding her hand pretty tightly, too. He knew how it felt, and just because he'd resolved to just try pulling himself up by the bootstraps didn't mean he wasn't having a difficult time coping with everything that had happened.

It was why he was awake at this hour, after all.]

It's alright. I don't think anyone is, after what happened. [They might pretend they were fine, and try to go about life as usual, but no one just got over that sort of thing.]

Do you want to stay here? [Versus waking up.] I think can keep the nightmares away.

[Jean pulls back a bit, staring up at him with a weak but grateful smile.]

I - yeah. I'd like that. [She doesn't want to be alone with her memories.

Slowly, her head turns, this way and that, and her smile deepens a bit.]

Does it look...anything like this, for you?

[Charles smiled and considers the room, taking in the little details.]

It looks a bit less lived in, I suppose. [And a gentle impression of the mansion he's used to maybe filters across, a bit more austere and large and empty, but not entirely dissimilar.]

We've only been there for oh, I don't know, two months? And there's just the four of us, now. [Since Raven and Erik had left and Moira had been sent away. Once there were more students, and maybe a few other teachers, it would probably feel a little more like this.]

Edited 2012-08-29 21:52 (UTC)

[Jean nods; she remembers how the mansion had looked two years ago, when it had still been a school and not a home. For a moment, those touches flicker and fade.]

Tell me about them? Your students?

[That would be a good thing to focus on, she thinks. For both of them.]

[Charles considers where to start, promptly shutting down memories of Hank's transformation. He was fairly certain that hadn't happened yet, wasn't even sure if it would, if Jean didn't know Raven, and he wasn't sure it was his place to tell her about it, especially if it was something she ultimately couldn't control. There was no reason to worry her unnecessarily.]

Well, you already know Hank. Or, a Hank, I suppose. He's brilliant, graduated from Harvard at fifteen, designed Cerebro and the Blackbird... He's afraid of what he could be capable of, or at least, he used to be. Everyone's made excellent progress. [And he tries not to think too hard about a moving satellite dish and a feeling that they really could accomplish anything together.]

Alex is a very stoic young man, but I think he's certainly warmed up to us. He might act a bit standoffish, but he's really quite a good friend, and he's matured a lot, since Cuba. He's had a difficult life, and we're still refining ways for him to control his power effectively so he doesn't have to rely on a piece of equipment or simply not use them at all. He can generate rings of energy which usually either sets things on fire or outright destroys them.

And Sean likes to act as if he's immature and doesn't pay attention, but it's mostly an act. He chose the codename "Banshee" - I'll let you guess why - and we discovered if he emits the scream at a certain frequency, he can use it to fly. He was afraid to really push himself at first, but then Erik pushed him off a satellite dish and I'm afraid he created a bit of a monster. [He does let some of that memory filter across, because it's a good one and less personal than the memory of Erik moving the dish. It's the three of them - Hank, Erik and Charles - standing on the platform, watching Sean test his limits, the two of them laughing with relief that Sean wasn't killed while Erik just looks a little smug. What? You know you were thinking the same.]

They're good kids. I hope you'll be able to meet them someday.

[Laughter - real laughter, deep and rich and straight from her chest - feel strange, but it's a wonderful feeling.]

I'm not sure if he's the worst or best teacher in the world.

[There's a sincere fondness in her voice she never would have expected, but she's pretty sure it's there to stay.]

I hope I can meet them, too. Sean sounds like Bobby - he's the youngest. Iceman.

[She turns her head, and there's Bobby at the chess set, sticking his tongue out as he tries to make little ice figures to match the pieces. Mostly he's just making a mess.]

[That gets a surprised, genuine smile from him, because it brings back memories and hopes and ideas that - while he hadn't given up on them - had been pushed aside after that day on the beach, and there's a part of him that can't help but desperately hope that there will be a time off the ship when Jean can see Erik as a mentor and a teammate and not an enemy, that maybe things can still somehow work out differently for them.]

That does seem to be the question, doesn't it? Although I guess we can't say his methods aren't effective.

[Charles watches Bobby and chuckles at the effort. He doesn't think he'll ever get tired of meeting other mutants and learning what they're capable of. It's always like seeing it happen for the first time and realizing you're not alone.] What about the other two? Scott and Warren, correct?

[Her own smile is warm and bright as she nods, sweeping a hand towards a suddenly open window. Warren swoops inside, great white wings just skimming the edges.]

I present Warren Worthington the third. Code name Angel. If he can sit through a whole day of classes without flying off it's a total achievement.

[She shakes her head, smile softening as she watches him ruffle Bobby's hair.] He's got more money than you, I think, but he's not snobby about it. He can be really sweet, actually.

[Then her head turns, and Scott is marching primly down the stairs, adjusting his red sunglasses.

Jean watches him for a long moment before she speaks, voice soft and warm.]

And that's...that's Scott.

[She glances back at Charles a bit sheepishly.]

He, um - he's our leader, out in the field. He didn't really want to be, but I think that's why you chose him.

His power...he has trouble with it. That's why he has the glasses - if he doesn't, the force beams go everywhere, unless he keeps his eyes closed.

[Charles grins a little knowingly at her when she stumbles a little over Scott, but doesn't pry. There's something about the teenager that seems familiar, although he can't quite place it. It might have been easier without the glasses, or if he'd been blonde, to connect the dots, but between that and the description of his powers, well.

They all seem like good kids. And they are kids, even if Jean would probably like to argue that they were more adults than he thought they were, and he wanted to meet the rest of them, wanted Sean and Alex to.

Charles hesitates a beat before carefully projecting images of his other students. Sean sits in a chair near Bobby, watching him intently, while Alex stands off to the side from the others, looking at the contents of the nearest shelf with interest that might have been from a place of "I'm not sure I actually want to be here right now". Hank has already helped himself to a book, and -

It almost hurts, but he cuts them off before Erik and Raven can join them. While he still clung to the hope that someday, everything would work out and they'd all be together again, he wasn't sure he wanted to get into the bittersweet feelings right now.]

I'd love to meet them. It's been good to know the school does work out, one way or another. There are so many young mutants out there who feel like they're alone, it's good to know you have [A family.] people who understand.

[Jean ducks her head a little at the grin. She knows it's obvious - to everyone except Scott, anyway.

Her own smile steadily widens as Charles' students appear. It feels...right, and it should, really. This is their home too, or it will be. Her eyes widen at Hank - it must be Hank, she knows those feet, and of course his nose is in a book - and surprise and amusement mingle in them. He's skinnier than theirs.

Her Hank lopes through the door with startling grace, several textbooks under each arm.

She nods earnestly at Charles' words, and she catches what he doesn't say, affirming it with a warm whisper.]

Family.

[Always.]

I get frustrated with them, sometimes, but - I don't know what I'd do without them. [There's a subtle ache in her voice; she misses them. She knew she would, when she accepted the Admiral's offer.]

[It's strange, to see the differences, and Charles can't help but wonder if perhaps Jean's Hank will never have the accident that turns him blue and furry. He knows it still bothers him - he hasn't made his peace with it, the same way Raven has - and there's a part of him that hopes he doesn't. He knows it's been hard for him.

But he's distracted by Jean's affirmation, and he can't help but smile, wide and genuine, because, well, that's all he's ever really wanted, honestly. He'd been lucky, to have Raven with him growing up, but there were so many mutants who didn't have that, and he had the means and the ability to really help them.]

I understand that feeling, [He admits with a chuckle, and really, he does. He misses the boys, and Moira, and Raven especially, and there have been plenty of days where he'd honestly wanted to just grab Erik and get the hell out of here, but there had been at least one good thing about coming here. He turns towards her - he's been standing, it's still his default mental image of himself, along with the blue cardigan and dark slacks - and carefully reaches out to pull her into a hug.]

I'm very glad to have met you, Jean.

[Jean is all too happy to return to the embrace, grinning into Charles' shoulder.]

Me too.

[It's a soft, intent murmur; it's still a bit strange, seeing him so young, experiencing all the little differences, but - it's nice, too. To know a Professor so youthful and earnest and hopeful, even with everything that weighs on him, everything he doesn't say.

She'll never stop being grateful for having him here.]

[Charles hugs her tightly, and God, he really misses Raven, but he meant what he said. As strange as it must be for her in some ways - and for him, too, really - and as much as he already wishes he could just bundle her up and protect her from the Barge (which was why he hadn't said he was glad she was here, because it wasn't a good thing for people you cared about to be subjected to all this), meeting her probably was the best thing being here had done for him.

He pulls back after a moment, still smiling and giving her a bit of a Look, clearly amused.]

So, what's this about me getting kidnapped and being in need of a rescue from the five of you?

[Her laugh is softer, this time.]

Well, you were travelling - on the trail of a mutant signature. We didn't think anything was wrong, at first, when you didn't contact us; you can get really focused.

And then - one night, I felt...it was almost like a dream, but it was too real. Too...familiar. You were trapped, and calling for help.

We used the landmarks I saw to figure out where you were. Warren's aunt knew a guide in the area. So - well, off we flew. [A slight smirk.] First class. Warren's money definitely comes in handy, sometimes.

When we got there... [Her grin is wide and bright, now, as Ken Hale appears in the doorway - a gorilla with khaki shorts, an orange tank, and an entirely too intelligent expression.] Mr. Hale wasn't exactly what we expected. But he was willing to help us.

[Charles listens, and glances towards the doorway, expecting... well. Anything but that, really, if he's being honest.]

Is he a mutant? Or just an intelligent gorilla?

[Which, okay, he could buy this being a mutation, but it would be really testing his ability to accept the strange if the answer was there was a tribe of intelligent gorillas that had somehow evaded detection for the last several thousand years of human history.]

Neither. It's a curse - magic.

[For a moment, he shifts into the form he once had, a strapping young man with pale brown hair and deep brown eyes.]

He was on a super team for a while, back in the fifties, but now he's living in the jungle.

[Morgana's sleep had been fitful for years before Morgause's gift. She would toss, and dream, she'd tangle herself in her sheets and blankets and wake screaming, images and terror behind her eyelids. That happened only rarely, once she'd put on the bracelet. Only the strongest of premonitions could break though the old magic protecting it.

She hadn't had any dreams of the future here. She hadn't thought about it; the bracelet protected her. But it could not protect her from ordinary nightmares. After she'd woken sobbing from the first, Morgana tried to put off sleep. It wasn't unfamiliar; she'd often only slept when exhaustion won the battle. The difference was that now she didn't want to lose the battle at all.

When Charles' thoughts came through, she was sitting in her chair, a short blanket around her shoulders. She was dragging her nails over the skin of her right arm - the one that had been broken, practically mangled. Now, there was no sign it had ever been. Watching as the white lines her nails drew turned red, she shifted just slightly when she felt Charles.]

Shouldn't you be asleep?

[It was dry, sarcastic. She doubted he could sleep any more than she could. And it was difficult, but she tried to guard her thoughts, tried to push away the bleak wonderings over her healed body and how it all seemed so surreal once you were tired enough.]

[Emotions and images would still filter across if she projected them particularly loudly, but once he'd realized she was awake, he kept the contact controlled, not looking to dig around in her mind for any information. Had she been dreaming, he would have tried to stop it from taking a turn for the worse, or push back the memories of what had happened so she could dream of something else, but she wasn't, so he didn't.]

I could ask you the same thing. [He sounded faintly amused, and tired, and for a moment wasn't sure what else he really wanted to say to her. He didn't want to just leave her by herself if she was also waiting up trying to fend off sleep, so he struggled to find something to say, however trite and simple.]

How are you?

Tired. Fine. [Fine came through stronger, covering over the other, blotting out anything else that might slip through her thoughts. She dragged her nails down her forearm again, ignored the faint shiver that traveled up her arm and over her shoulders.]

I was thinking of taking a walk. [She was thinking the ship would be empty, and maybe it would be a little eery, but a little comforting to be out there.]

Would you like some company? [A few days ago, he might not have offered, but he was trying to resist the urge to just hide in his room and never come out again. And it would probably be fairly quiet, with most people sleeping or at least in their rooms for the night, which meant it wasn't like they'd have to pretend like they were in the mood to hang out and chat with everyone they happened to run into.]

[It wasn't like they'd have to pretend with one another, either; Morgana was reasonably certain that he wouldn't force a conversation on their stroll, and that was why she found herself nodding.]

Yes. I'll come to you. [But it was a long few minutes before she moved at all. Her arm was red by the time she finally stood, but it was hidden away under her sleeve by the time she headed down to level five to meet Charles.]

Alright. [He didn't move to get out of bed until he sensed Morgana leaving her room, pulling on a robe instead of bothering with putting on real clothes. It was too much effort, between the depression and the paralysis, but he does drag himself out of bed and into the chair, and lets himself out of his room as Morgana makes her way down to the fifth floor.]

[She can't exactly begrudge him is clothing choice; she has one dress she's been trying to keep clean. Morgana looks up when he comes out of his room. She doesn't bother trying to smile, it wouldn't go well. But she does nod, and pauses until she can fall into step with his chair. Although a moment later, she asks - still thinking, because it's so much easier than to speak:]

I could push you.

[It seemed tiring, to constantly push himself along like that, and maybe it was a little easier, to be just out of sight.]

[There's a moment where he almost insists that he's got it, but he understands why she's offering, and he himself often feels the need to keep busy, so he can't really begrudge her for it. Or in general. It wasn't her fault that he was feeling particularly insecure about his situation.]

If you'd like. You're sure you're alright?

Yes. [But the other thought, no, is right there in her mind, overlapping the response she tries to project. She slides behind the chair, hands settling on the handles as she takes over pushing him along. At least this isn't at all about him; she's barely thinking of the chair at all.]

Are you? [There was some irony in that thought - how could they really be okay - but she let it fade.]

[He didn't really want to outright lie to her, despite everything. It just seemed stupid, they were out here in the hallway when everyone else but the vampires were asleep to insist that he was fine. He wasn't. She wasn't, no one was.

But he had a hard time just accepting that. He was working on it, he wasn't going to let this beat him, so after a slight pause, he finally answered.]

I will be.

How do you know?

[ The whisper comes out before she can even think about it, and she stops pushing the wheelchair, leaning on the handles instead. ]

Sometimes-- [ Her voice is creaky, like it can be after sleep, after hours and hours of not speaking. ] I look at myself and I wonder if it really happened, or if it was just another nightmare, if all of this--

[ And there are tears, now, that she doesn't realize are coming. She thought she had herself under control, but she doesn't. ]

I don't even know if this is real. [ She lets go of his chair, hand wrapping around her forearm and holding it against her chest. ] Is this real?

[Well, that was upsetting, if maybe not entirely unexpected. They'd tortured him, but they'd hurt her. The worst injuries he'd gotten he'd done to himself by accident.

He wanted to turn to look at her, but couldn't, really, because of the chair and his legs, so he made do with what he could, and tried not to be too resentful of it.]

Yes. It's real. [He allowed himself the briefest of smiles.] I wouldn't be able to feel your mind like this, otherwise.

[In dreams, there was always something a little off about his telepathy, or he couldn't use it at all, or just never thought to. Being able to reach out and sense Morgana was grounding in a way it wouldn't have been if they were in a dream.]

Do you want to sit down, somewhere?

[ Her magic wasn't a constant thing, wasn't something she could feel when she wasn't using it, like his telepathy. She hadn't known her magic was gone until she'd tried to use it, same as it had been in Camelot (when it had been stolen from her, ripped away while she slept by the one person mean to destroy her, and he had, hadn't he, he'd done just that and sent her here where her nightmares were the waking sort).

She wet her lips and nodded, though she knew he probably couldn't quite see. ] Yes. [ Her voice was small, but she made herself lower her arm, and take up the handles of his chair again. ]

Would you mind the garden? [ She felt as if she hadn't been courteous in years, but it was still easy to fall back on it. ]

[He shook his head. The garden actually seemed like a pretty decent option, right now. People didn't spend much time there outside of waking hours, so it was unlikely they'd run into anyone else.]

Of course not.

[ Morgana nods - again, to herself - and heads for the elevator. She's silent, but it's not like Charles needs words to hear her; the question of whether or not this is real may be momentarily shelved, but there's no answer for why. Why did this happen to her, what did she do deserve this, how could this be good and right redemptive in any way?

She thinks of Elyan screaming, and tears prick at the corners of her eyes. She made herself a monster, because they called her one. But she wasn't a monster, not like them, not like the Vanquish. She'd needed something from Elyan, hadn't she? Hadn't she?

Pushing the chair along with one hand, she wiped at her eyes with the heel of her other. She had needed information from Elyan. The Vanquish had only wanted to see her in pain. That was the difference. There was a difference. ]

[Charles bit the inside of his cheek and forced himself not to say anything, drawing back from her mind more definitively because he didn't want to think about what she'd done to other people right now. Didn't want to talk about how there wasn't a difference, torture was torture and using those tactics made her not all that different from the people who'd held them.

He was exhausted, and the last thing he wanted was to get into an argument about it, to make her feel even worse about what had already happened, and maybe he'd live to regret it, later, because she'd have time to justify her behavior and pretend like she wasn't the same as them, like Erik had done with Shaw, and God, how was he ever supposed to have a serious argument with him again, after what had happened? He didn't want to be fighting the person who'd risked everything so he wouldn't have to be alone, even when he knew there was no hope of them both escaping.

He twisted his hands together in his lap and tried to think of something else, anything, to distract him from the desire to start lecturing. There would be time for that later, maybe Mozenrath would talk to her about it, but he just couldn't bring himself to do it now.]

[It was good of him to keep quiet; Morgana wouldn't have stood under a lecture, though lately it was hard to tell if she'd react with anger or anguish. Once the elevator doors closed, she turned him so that he could face the door, before leaning back against the wall with her head tilted back, staring at the light in the ceiling.

She could not keep this up. She was going mad, letting her thoughts chase each other.]

Tell me about the others like you, [she said softly. The other mutants; she wanted to hear about others who were different in their worlds.]

[That was an easy enough topic to latch onto, and it would hopefully be a distraction for both of them, which Morgana especially seemed desperately in need of.] Well, you know about Raven. And Erik. [Even if Morgana and Erik didn't cross paths much, it would be hard to miss the angry guy wearing a helmet Charles hung out with more often than he didn't.]

I have three students back home - Hank, Alex and Sean - and there are a few more I've spent more time around. I've met a few others, but they weren't interested in working with us at the time. Jean, Wanda and St. John are all from versions of my world, as well.

There are much, much more of us out there, but I haven't really had the chance to go out and contact too many others. Hank build a device that amplified my telepathy so I could find other mutants, but it was destroyed and he's still working on building a better one. [And he was looking forward to it, to be able to go out and help all those lonely minds he'd touched the first time he'd used the device.]

What do you want to know about them?

[When the elevator doors open while he talks, she pushes herself off the wall, and pushes him forward, out onto the deck. It's a good distraction - it's something she can focus on, instead of remembering.]

What can they do?

Raven can change her appearance to perfectly match anyone she wants to. She can even imitate their voice. Erik can manipulate metal - or, more accurately, I suppose, he can manipulate magnetic fields. He can even use them to fly. [Charles is super impressed, kind of proud and also insanely jealous because that seems so cool. :c And all of that is probably readily apparent in his voice.]

Hank has enhanced strength, speed, flexibility and reflexes, and his feet act more like extra hands than anything else. [He hesitates for a moment before continuing, but, well.] He had a bit of an accident shortly before I came here, and so now he's- [Not sure how to explain it, he sends her an image of what Hank looks like now, fuzzy and blue and still wearing glasses.] Anyway. Alex can release blasts of kinetic energy, Sean has a sonic scream he can control the pitch of to help him fly, if given the proper equipment to help him glide, Jean can move objects with her mind [He leaves out mentioning her telepathy, since she'd seemed to want to keep that quiet for now.] Wanda can... Wanda's powers are a bit hard to explain, but basically she can manipulate the probability of things happening. She's described it as chaos magic. And St. John can manipulate fire, as long as an external source has created it.

I've also met another telepath, who isn't as strong as me and can't do some of the same things I can, although she can also turn her body into a nearly invulnerable crystal form, which I obviously can't do, a young woman with dragonfly wings who can spit acid, a teleporter, a young man whose body could adapt to various external stimuli - he could form gills if he put his head under water, for example - a man who could form windstorms on command and another who could absorb and release vast amounts of energy, which also apparently kept him eternally young.

[She makes a sound that's almost a laugh as she listens, because it's amazing to listen to, to know that, while they aren't quite normal, there are enough of them, that they have each other to lean on. She pushes them into the gardens, and doesn't stop until she finds a bench halfway through the small domed building. She leaves Charles beside it, and sits beside him.]

They can do amazing things, [she murmurs, and looks up at him, tired and thoughtful.] You're proud of them. [Tired, thoughtful, and a little jealous. It isn't his pride she wants, really, not exactly. She wants that feeling of having a family, though. She misses it. Terribly.]

Yes. [There's no better way to put it, really. It had been amazing, to see the kids figure out how to use their powers, how not to be afraid of what they were capable anymore, watching Erik move a satellite dish miles away when he used to struggle with anything too heavy without getting angry first. If there had been any doubt in his mind that he wanted to teach before that week before Cuba, it was long gone by the time they arrived at the mansion and got to work.]

Before we all came together, most of them didn't even realize there were other people in the world like them, and many of them had very limited control. Now they're all much more confident in themselves and what they can do.

[And, God, had it really almost been ten months since he'd seen them last? Almost over a year since he'd seen Raven, and while there was a selfish part of himself that was glad Erik was here with him (he sincerely doubted ten months at home would have meant spending this much time with his friend, and while he often didn't want him to be here, because the Barge was awful and he didn't want him exposed to things like that last port, it was hard not to be grateful sometimes that he had someone to talk to, when he needed it) and not his students or his sister, well.]

I miss them.

I can imagine.

[Was there anyone left for her to miss? The people she used to consider family were severed from her; Morgause was dead. Even Helios - and, she supposed, Agravaine, he'd never come back - even they were gone. Agravaine, who had loved her and disappointed her again and again. Helios, who had wanted her, and given her the army she needed. They were allies, not friends. She wondered if she'd ever had real friends.

She makes herself smile, before her eyes betray her again.]

They sound wonderful. I wish I could meet them.

I'd say maybe you will, but I honestly don't want any of them coming here. [It was hard enough, for him and Erik, and while he knew they'd be capable of doing good things, here, there was a part of him that worried Raven would be judged for choosing to go with Erik, rather than stay with him, and while his students were certainly exceptional individuals, they really were still just kids. Hell, he already had a hard time with Jean being here.]

Maybe we could arrange a visit, sometime. [When you graduate. :c]

[She spared him a wan smile, and there was very little hope in the expression. As much as she would like t hat - and she thought she might - she doubted that the opportunity would present itself.]

The Admiral isn't going to let me leave.

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TWENTY SIX ✖ SPAM/TELEPATHY

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