thisavrou_log | Space Tuesday (back-dated till earlier in the month)

Entry tags:

Space Tuesday (back-dated till earlier in the month)

Who: Rogue & the man she knows as Professor Xavier
When: Space Tuesday.
Where: Charles' classroom.
What: It's really weird when you meet the younger version of your headmaster
Warnings: tbd

Back at home, Rogue had a standing appointment with the Professor on Tuesday afternoons at three. There would be tea, and they'd talk. Sometimes it was therapy, but mostly it was trying to get to the bottom of her powers. She assumed, of course, that this was what that would be.

Unsure of what the tea situation would be, Rogue planned ahead, finding herself a kettle and two thermoses of sort. With some of the tea she'd brought back from her recent trips to Kaittan, she brewed enough for two and set off toward where she'd said she would meet him.

When she arrived outside the Professor's classroom, Rogue shifted the thermoses to one gloved hand while she used the other to knock on the open door. "Professor?" She asked, stepping across the threshold. She redistributed the thermoses so that she had one in each hand, sparing her the likely-necessary handshake. Hopefully he would understand, his older self had, when he first met her.

"Hi- I'm Rogue. It's nice to see you in person- again, I guess."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Since his arrival in the general "here" (Thisavrou and Avagi combined; they have become a singular, nebulous answer for "away from home"), he's actually leaned harder on alcohol than perhaps he should have. Tea used to be easy enough to find, but never quite calmed his nerves the way that felt entirely necessary, but since Avagi in particular, it's been a luxury he hadn't put too much energy into trying to find when there had been so much else to occupy his scattered focus. Finding a home, finding his family (makeshift and strained as it may currently be), keeping stocked of only the most basic resources.

Recent trips off the station have made that easier, but he is, regrettably (but perhaps an oddly serendipitous move as well) empty-handed on that front.

"It's nice to meet you in person, for the first time and...not at all, I suppose."

He offers a smile in place of a hand easily enough. Even the most basic explanation of her abilities had made that move plain, and a first meeting (for him at least) hardly seems the time to prod at that gesture (or lack of) needlessly.

"There's no need to stand on ceremony, please," he says, gesturing to one of the few seats actually in the rather spartan-looking space. It's a far cry from a classroom, let alone the warmth and hominess of any other part of the old mansion, his office included. "I apologize for the space, but I suppose we'll have to make do."

Even if he might do some unspeakably sordid things to have his office back. Or god, even just the couch.

She notices that he doesn't even extend a hand, and Rogue finds herself feeling a bit more at ease already.

"It's alright- could be worse." She offers a small smile, and holds out a thermos. "I grabbed some tea, on Kaittan. We usually'd have some, so I figured why not." Oh it's so weird to talk to him about himself.

Rogue crosses toward one of the seats and sits, resting her elbows on her knees. She hols the thermos between both hands, the heat felt through her gloves.

"It is good to meet you. Younger you. Though I've gotta admit, it's really weird for me." She glances toward his hair.

"It feels like ages since I last had tea, thank you," he says, taking the offering (whether it's for peace, simple hospitality, or whatever the case might be). He makes a mental note to find a way to repay this the next time, even as lacking in resources as they can be here. But it's good to note they're not entirely adrift in that arena.

He lets the thermos warm his hands for a moment--repurposed labs are always too damned cold for comfort and he's certain the chill in his fingers is permanent now--before he sets it aside for a moment.

"I think you'll find that strangeness is a hallmark of the situation. You're certainly not alone in how adrift that can make anyone feel."

He's met his older self, though perhaps it was a fever dream (he still isn't entirely sure), just the once, and it was enough to leave him feeling off-kilter for weeks. Of course, Erik being Erik hadn't helped the feeling either, but that is not a gripe for the here-and-now.

"I'm glad we were able to do this in person, though I do apologize for the ground you're retreading."

The tea is both tradition and Southern hospitality at it's finest. Unfortunately there isn't enough sugar for sweet tea.

"Well if it helps, the Logan here is way older than the one I have back home." Still the same guy, of course. Still the only person left in the entire world(s) that could call her Marie and get away with it.

"I am, too. It's no trouble- you're still my Headmaster." She's not going to give Storm the title of Headmistress, not yet, not till she's back home and sorted. Not with the way she'd treated her when she asked about the cure.

"I think it'll help, too, that at a later point in time, you know this stuff all anyway."

She isn't the only one expecting something very different of Logan than what the man has to give, but under the circumstances, it seems unfair to make solid note of it. If he does not want to be held to what another incarnation of himself has done, he cannot hold Logan to the same standard. Luckily it seems divorced enough from the rest of the discussion that remarking on it--had he even wanted to--doesn't feel salient either.

"You mean to change the future then, I take it?" he asks, mildly amused at the memory (of, well...Logan) that the idea conjures up as he ponders it. It isn't quite dismissive: he'd believed it possible once, after all. ~~And god, if he can find a way to prevent Cairo in the shape everyone remembers it...~~

He pauses for a moment, finally making to take a sip of tea first, before continuing. Of course, the next question does involve a degree of hesitant trepidation, the pause feeding into the cautious quiet, like a timid animal in a zoo. "What is it that I need to know?"

No, her Logan was her Logan, no matter the world. He'd remembered her, welcomed her with literal open arms. He was older now, she'd seen. Older and a real father, but he'd always been something of a father to her, too. Thankfully, the topic is avoided.

"I mean, maybe. We'll see where things go, I guess." She shrugs, before worrying at her gloves. She knows what is coming next, and when Charles speaks, she takes a moment to answer.

"When I touch someone, Professor, I don't just hurt them. I get their voices and memories in my head... They don't go away, neither. And if the person's a mutant? I get their powers, too, for a time. Those fade, and sometimes I get some personality traits, too, it's..." She'd kept the details of her powers away from even her friends, not wanting to cause them to worry.

"It's a really shitty power, if I'm gonna be frank, Professor. Sometimes... Sometimes I think I'm going to lose my mind from all that's going on in here." she taps the side of her head.

The smile he gives as she finishes isn't bright, or really cheerful at all. It's more an expression of sympathy, sadness weighing the edges of it down like an anchor. Or cement shoes in a vast body of water.

"And here I used to think memories alone were bad enough," he starts. It's difficult, to know that much about someone whether they've given it to you or not. It's invasive, and overwhelming, and god the power inherent in having all of that information is horrifying and addicting all at once.

This much he does understand. And the loneliness she implies more than he'll admit...more than she's likely to believe. Still, there's a fluidity to the idea, one that reminds him of someone very different from the girl in front of him now, that it makes him all the fonder.

(But Raven had dismissed a "fix," and what had once been an assumed or learned "problem" had turned to a point of pride. Here, the stakes couldn't be more different.)

"You're not the only one, Rogue. I--" he pauses, wondering if he really should get into this, if it's too much for a first meeting, whether it's helpful at all. He's told so few about this, but...what if it is useful? "--I used to think very much the same thing. That I was cursed. Ill, on days I felt the need to be kind. I know it's a very easy thing to say that these powers are gifts in their own cruelly particular ways. It certainly doesn't ever feel like it, does it?"

Edited 2017-12-12 04:48 (UTC)

Rogue grimaces, holding the tea in both hands. She can feel the warmth through her gloves. Last time they'd had this conversation, he'd been the one to explain her mutation to her. Now she was explaining it to him.

She nods. "Yeah- try living with Logan's memories in your head. It ain't pretty." She tries to come off as dry, but there's a lot of bitterness inherent in her voice. Honestly, the memories are one of her worries about what happens if she takes the cure. Will they stay? The voices? Or is she doomed to live with them in her head for the rest of her life? And if she was, was it worth it to be able to touch someone?

What he says, however, is unexpected. She tilts her head to the side, her lower lip pursed and her brow furrowed. This is new. Very, very new. Slowly, she nods. "Yeah- yeah it does. Everyone around me- they've got such great powers. They've got control. And I'm here-- back at home- literally hours before I came here- my boyfriend? Kissed my best friend." She laughs, a little, because what else had been she expecting when she decided to date someone? To date a handsome, kind boy that absolutely adored her. She had hoped he'd be different, in the end. But he hadn't.

"I know it's just a stupid little thing but- I can't even hold hands with someone. And all around me people love their powers, love to show them off. They're all so proud." And she couldn't be. Not when all she did was hurt people.

They were all so proud. And she was so desperate.

He watches and he listens quietly, letting Rogue work through what she needs to work through. There's a long sip of tea in the interim, that pause between a lament and the response he owes. Charles' glance--empathic and troubled all at once--doesn't waver.

"My sister used to say something similar. Hated her natural form, often expressed in envy of something less...visible. She'd had more control over it, granted, but it was really she who taught me what pride in our differences really means."

It sounds, in that pause, so dismissive. He knows it does. Her loneliness, he can only imagine, eclipses his own by a wide margin, and it's a painful consideration.

"I wish I had an easy fix for you, Rogue. Sincerely. I know it doesn't sound like much, but in my experience with proper fixes, there's never a way it ends well. And I know that it's difficult not to do it, but you aren't comparable to anyone else. Pride is something that comes from the heart."

(Even when it's a trait leaned too heavily upon).

Rogue raises an eyebrow. "You have a sister?" She'd never heard about the Professor having any siblings before. But maybe he kept them quiet for a reason. Perhaps, by the time she came around, the Professor's siblings had died? It wasn't her place to ask any probing questions further than the one she'd already asked.

She frowns slightly. "I can't be proud of something that only causes hurt." She'd been working on ways that her power could be helpful instead of destructive, but she'd always had a hard time figuring that one out.

He mentions a fix, his own experience, and her green eyes are on him with a visible intensity. She's nearly breathless as she explains: "Professor... In my time... There's a cure."

She looks up at him, her tea forgotten as she waits for him to pass judgement on this. If he supported it, supported her inevitable decision to go through with it. To allow herself to have a normal life. To hold someone's hand without fear of killing them.

At first, he only laughs. "I do, when she feels up to admitting as much at least. Raven and I are on...complicated terms, is perhaps the best I can put it."

She would argue, vehemently. Of course she would. He can hear the ghost of that argument even as he says it. But beyond this, it isn't really his story to tell. There are lines he knows not to cross. ~~(But then...is he crossing it when she isn't here?)~~

The levity, however, turns down quickly as she mentions a cure. That ever-sympathetic glance shifts, becoming harder and so much sadder all at once.

"A public one, I assume you mean?" he asks, unsure how that's happened when he knows Hank would never. "Seems a dangerous thing to have in the wrong hands. And the side-effects have never been pleasant."

It's a good thing that Rogue has no idea what Mystique's real name. Or what Magneto's is, for that matter. Or perhaps it's a terrible thing and could save everyone a lot of pain and heartache.

Rogue nods. "I understand." She's not going to press for the complicated story. It's not her place, and she doubted his counterpart in her timeline wanted her to know. She could settle with never knowing.

She recognizes that shift, and Rogue herself shifts backward slightly. She was so prepared to let her walls down for this man, but the look< he gives her... Rogue crosses her arms in front of her chest.

"Yeah- it's on the market and everything." She tries not to sound eager, instead cautious. "But no one's reported any weird side-effects." Not that she'd heard. Even if there were, it would be worth it.

It had to be.

"We had one in my time," he says. It's wistful and painful, and god he doesn't want to go into this, but...what do they lose if he doesn't? She deserves to have the same kind of trust returned that she's paid to him in kind. "But it wasn't...common. Of course, our mutations weren't either; the government has known for longer than the public ever did. I digress."

She hasn't, after all, come here for a history lesson, has she?

Charles pauses for a moment, not really sure how to broach this when he hasn't with anyone but Hank or Logan. Erik had only forced the subject, berated him for the decision without any real understanding. It's not a thing he's tried to parse emotionally for himself for some time now. But the more he considers, the more he knows he's likely to retreat, so--

"I've taken it. Or I did, once," he admits quietly, just pushing through before he loses the will to do it. "It wasn't permanent and it was terrifyingly easy to abuse. Not something I would remotely recommend for widespread consumption."

But he isn't saying no. He has his reservations, will always have them, having lived through it. But ultimately...this isn't his decision, is it?

Edited (ugh redundancies, sorry!) 2017-12-18 05:37 (UTC)

Rogue nearly chokes on her tea. "You? You've taken- Professor-" she babbles at him, her tongue heavy in her mouth. How did she even start with that bit of information? Professor Xavier, this man who was so incredibly talented and kind and had such a mastery of his powers... had taken a cure?

"My god- I don't know what to say- I'm- you've never told me this before." No, the time had never lined up for him to tell her. Storm had shut her down and she never dared to open up about it to anyone again until now. She hadn't even shared her thoughts on it with Bobby.

Not that he'd ever asked. You figure your untouchable girlfriend was the first person you'd ask.

Rogue grits her teeth, her knuckles white beneath her gloves.

"....why?" There, that's something to say. She clears her throat. "I mean- why'd you take it? Your powers are so amazing..."

"I haven't told many people about it before," he says with a soft laugh at that astonishment. It's not quite the reaction he'd been expecting, but then, he also doesn't know what, exactly, he had. Ostracization, perhaps? Indignance? Those seem to be more common than something more akin to awe.

Rogue is, truth told, one of perhaps five people now who had known, blatantly, what he'd done to himself. He hasn't even broached it with Jean. The story is a Big Deal.

"But I think we all have our reasons. Loss isn't quite so different whether it finds you or you've always known it. And I couldn't turn the memories off either, as it were."

He pauses for a moment, if only to find the words he needs to make this salient.

"Unfortunately, removing powers from the equation did little to take anything else with them."

It was nice to know that there were others out there who sought a reprieve. No one at school was of a like mind, it seemed. They were all so happy with their mutations. And here's the thing: It wasn't that she minded being a mutant, it was her powers that she minded.

She, personally, accepted that there'd be some ostracizing when she took it. It was such a divisive issue. But it had to be looked at from her side.

Rogue presses her lips together, taking all of this in.

"That's- that's fine. I don't need anything else from it- I just want to be able to touch people again." Was it really so hard to imagine that? She'd had one of her senses all but removed.

The thought that maybe the voices and their memories would stay behind hadn't even crossed her mind.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Space Tuesday (back-dated till earlier in the month)

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject