Who: Charles Xavier x & Maes Hughes maes What: Observing the Hand Ship from Charles's apartment. When: Monday, April 13, lunch time Where: Copperstone Apartments, room 101A Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Charles is a telepath, the Giant Hand is a pervert, Maes is an anime character. There's nothing to see here unless you really want to go looking for it. Status: Closed/Completed GDoc
~*~
One of the many, many benefits to being Charles Xavier was knowing when someone was approaching the door in time to wheel up to open it. His electric wheelchair helped him immensely with his mobility, but he was still nowhere near as fast or agile as a person who could walk. It was a simple matter to pull his hair back into a tight knot at the back of his head so he looked somewhat presentable and make his way to the door in time to open it before the detective could knock.
He had his hand raised comically as if he were prepared to rap with all authority upon Charles's door. It was one of those things Charles never failed to find amusing; his smile was wide as he looked the fellow over. Maes Hughes was handsome, a bit older than he'd been expecting, and apparently telling the truth about The Hand's opinion of him as it was currently giving him "The Bird."
"Do come in, Detective Hughes. It seems you're in danger of getting something foul shot at you from The Hand if you don't. Have to say, it's never made that particular gesture at me. I'm finding it more interesting as the days go by."
Charles pulled back on the controls of his chair so he could make way for his guest to enter. He was glad the apartment was ground floor though they'd have had a better view from the second floor. Luckily, The Hand didn't seem inclined to go too far from his home this day. It liked to give him a 'come hither' finger which it was doing as soon as it seemed to spot him behind the detective.
Shaking his head, he asked, "Does it ever make that gesture at you?"
It was utterly absurd to think the craft was flirting with him. There truly wasn't much else it could be doing however and Charles had only received emotions from all his attempts to communicate with it telepathically. He couldn't control it nor could it get inside his head. They simply brushed minds, swapped feelings, rubbed against one another---and alright it was possible he was contributing to its behavior. How had he been meant to know all of that?
"Oh dear, I seem to think I may have been unintentionally encouraging it. Do you think it's cruel of me to lead on a spaceship if I'd no idea I was doing so at the time? I honestly can't say it's a crime I wish to have on my bachelor's resume. I prefer my flirtations with organic lifeforms. Preferably of the same general body type as me. Oh. Well. The opposite gender, but same---please save me from myself, Detective. I'm literally swallowing my own foot at this stage."
Charles would have blushed if he'd been embarrassed. He was too amused to feel awkward around the other man. There was mirth in the lines around Maes's mouth and eyes. He simply looked like someone who smiled often, laughed freely, and loved deeply. It didn't take a mind reader to know those things. All it took were eyes and Charles had never had vision problems, knock on wood.
~*~
Maes’s eyes widened as the door opened the moment he was about to knock on it. Laughing, he turned to look over his shoulder at the hand, and rolled his eyes. “What can I say? It loves me.” That was the farthest thing from the truth, but he and Charles were both aware of that fact already. Maes was wary of the hand, people were still coming forward with what it was capable of, and he himself would’ve been drenched in some foul smelling liquid had he not been quick on his feet.
Glancing back, he shook his head. “No, it’s never made that gesture at me.”
He’d only see it make obscene gestures towards him while he was observing it, to see it do something different was quite fascinating.
Pushing up his glasses, Maes laughed and then gave a dismissive wave of his hand. “I don’t think it’s too cruel to lead it on considering how rude it is to most people here.” He chuckled and shook his head, “That is my opinion on the matter though.” He took a few steps deeper into Charles’s apartment, glancing around as the smile faded from his face for a fleeting moment. Maes always liked to be prepared, even if most people didn’t think that he was the sort of fellow to have a plan of action.
Turning his head to look back at Charles, he smiled again. “Don’t worry, your secret will be safe with me in regards to influencing the hand. How are you able to influence it?” Maes worked with all types, though none of the State Alchemists could read something like the hand. Manipulate it? Probably, but that would be with their alchemy.
Suddenly Maes wished that Edward was here. He might’ve been able to take the hand down just so everyone could get a closer look at it to see what made it tick. There were so many people that he missed from back home, so many that he would give anything for to have them here with him again. “If you don’t mind me asking. I don’t think any of the State Alchemists I worked with back home would be able to read it in that way. They might be able to transmute it, or bring it down, but even then I don’t think it would work.” The hand had some sort of built in defense that no attack could break through thus far.
~*~
Violence was so often the answer for people. Humans, mutants, aliens, those from alternative universes or realities, it seemed as if the one thing they had in common was their propensity towards war. Charles had never been a violent man. Erik was his one downfall on that side of the line, but, then again, Erik could make anyone violent if they were subjected to his rantings long enough. No one was particularly fond of a raving lunatic or a fanatic at the very least if one were to argue Erik was hardly insane.
He had never considered using his gift to force The Hand to the ground. What good would that do? What purpose would that serve? Proving only that Charles was dangerous enough to threaten alien lifeforms? Charles didn't want to be the source of anyone's fear. He wanted to be a good man with a good strategy for life. His plans were few for this place: be good to others as he'd once been, try valiantly to befriend those he did not know or was unfamiliar with regardless of their species or origins, and stay sober of the drugs which numb his pain yet also suppress his ability.
"I'm no Alchemist," Charles laughed, shaking his head, "I'm what is called a 'mutant' in my world. I have gifts courtesy of a genetic variation which is unique to some small percentage of the population of Earth. My particular gifts are those of the mind. I talk to it on a mental level. We share mostly emotions. It has never sent me words or phrases. Only feelings. I think it's lonely. Childishly it's trying to get attention."
Shrugging, Charles fell silent. What could he tell this man? That he pitied a spacecraft? That he felt as if they were kindred spirits of a sort seeing as he himself was lonely more often than not? If Maes didn't think him completely insane now, he would by the end of that speech. It felt wrong to keep his gift a secret however which was why Charles offered information on it freely to those who inquired on it. The last thing he wanted was for someone to feel as if he were ashamed or hiding his gifts to be used for some nefarious purpose. Charles was as much a victim of this place as anyone else in Test City.
"Don't panic," Charles warned with a hand raised in caution, "I'm going to show you what I mean."
He concentrated on bridging the gap between the craft's feelings and those of Maes Hughes, allowing the fellow to sense both his own feelings of pity for the alien ship as well as their shared feelings of loneliness, lack of companionship, aches for someone who could only understand.
'Can you feel it?' he asked inside Maes's head.
~*~
Mutant. The word, while not foreign, to Maes wasn’t in the context that he was used to. It was interesting, how this place had brought all sorts from different walks of life, and the universes they came from were fascinating to Maes. He was sure that to some his was interesting as well, although it was quite normal for him. What was one person’s normal was another person’s abnormal, however.
Maes folded one arm over his chest, and rested his elbow in the palm of his hand before propping his chin against the heel of his other. “I see. Very different from anything I’ve heard of, but this place seems to like all types.” He lifted a shoulder, offering Charles a smile.
Swapping of emotions was even more curious to Maes. He couldn’t imagine what a burden that could be, the ability to read others minds, to know exactly what they were thinking at any given moment. Maes didn’t know how the man before him hadn’t gone mad, but then again, it was his normal.
Maes’s brows rose at the words, and he gave a small nod of his head. Panic was not something Maes felt often, but he did appreciate the warning before he felt the emotions start flowing through him. His brows furrowed, there was a clear sense of loneliness, wanting to be accepted and other things that Maes didn’t want to dwell too long on. Being lonely here was hard, missing people back home was even harder, although he worried more about their safety than anything.
He was certain that Charles picked up on those emotions from him, he did very little to hide them even when he wasn’t linked to someone.
Nodding, Maes turned his attention to the ship outside. “I do.” He took in a deep breath, “It feels as if it’s as lost as the rest of us here.” That was how it felt to him at any rate. Maes could’ve been very well off the mark with his thoughts, but he didn’t think so. “It’s had to been brought here by the -- whatever that brought us here as well.”
Rubbing his chin, Maes’s eyes stayed on the spacecraft. He hadn’t meant any harm by going to get a closer look and to assess any possible threats. Of course, it hadn’t made the hand very happy with him if it’s actions were any indication.
“Might I ask if that was purely the ships emotions? Or were some of your own mixed in with that? I don’t have many issues hiding my own emotions, as I’m sure you’re aware by now, although I am guarded when --” He paused, “I was guarded when I was with my wife. She deserved all of the happiness and love that I could give her. She didn’t need to know the horrors I’d seen.”
~*~
"Some were mine," Charles admitted easily, leaning to the side in his chair to lounge indolently against the hard arm, "I can keep myself completely guarded from any mental attack. I'm considered---strong at home. Realistically? I doubt there's any who could best me in a battle of the minds at this stage. One day, when I am eclipsed, I hope the person who surpasses me is honorable. For now? I keep to myself unless I choose not to and I decided to share a bit with you since you can't help sharing with me."
Some people had natural shields in place which kept Charles out. They were the ones who were pathological liars, thieves, professional criminals, paranoiacs, the insane, and sometimes merely the ones whose thoughts lived on another plane. It was often shocking to him when he met someone whose thoughts were nothing more than a blank canvas to him. Charles couldn't remember the last time he'd stumbled upon a stranger with the ability to keep him out. He only remembered Raven and her desperate attempt to hold him at bay.
She had been like his sister. His friend. To think she'd used what she knew of his gift to hide from him in order to commit murder? Charles was nearly sickened only from the thought. It took him a moment to breathe before his eyes focused back on Maes.
There was a lost soul. He only wanted to go home to his family. What would Charles give if he could say that was all he wanted out of his life? It was something which had no price. Simple needs, simple desires, those were the things Charles missed the most out of his life. All he wanted was to go back in time to the first night he'd met Raven to tell her anything they had to eat in the kitchen was hers. All he wanted was to go back to a time when he could ask Erik for a game of chess and only be asking for a game of chess.
Time couldn't be changed in such a way however though it did seem to be flexible in a way he'd never imagined.
"I saw a man from the future in my world. He came to me to warn me of how I could help stop a war. That was what I was doing before I got here: helping a man from the future stop a war which hadn't happened yet or even begun to begin. It was baffling. I was coming off a high from a medicinal habit which allowed me the use of my legs yet not the use of my---" Charles tapped his temple, "---gift. I was trying to forget how I wanted to drink myself into a stupor all the time. It was starting to come together, I think. Before I came here. Now? I don't know. I may never know. I may go back and be right there in that war I failed to stop. Here? All I want is a little peace. You're a lucky man, Maes Hughes, to only wish to return home to your family. I envy you."
~*~
Turning his attention to Charles, Maes listened carefully to what he said. They weren’t so different in that regard. Maes had also been trying to prevent a war, a mass murder of people from his home country. He had information that Roy needed, the Elrics, someone, anyone that wasn’t involved with the whole ordeal. At this point, Maes knew that the pool of people he could trust back home was limited, but one of those people had to find out the truth.
They were smart, they would figure it out soon. Maes hoped it was sooner rather than later, but what did he know?
“I do wish to see them, but there are people that need information that only I have.” He scoffed softly, “I would’ve probably died trying to get it to them anyway. I was attacked right before I was brought here.” His shoulder had healed up nicely after he’d gone to the hospital to get it properly sewed up. “My people are going to be sacrificed in a large transmutation circle, likely for the creation of a Philosopher's Stone and no one, at this point, has figured it out.” It was a heavy burden to carry, but Maes just shrugged and smiled at Charles again.
“They’ll figure it out. Roy, Edward, someone, before it’s too late.” He hoped they did anyway. “But seeing my family again? I would give anything to be able to see my girl, and my wife.” Dropping his hand down, he reached into his pocket to pull out his wallet.
Flipping it open caused a line of photos in little plastic protectors to fall. “There they are. My pride and joys!” He beamed with all the happiness in the world because for him? They were his happiness. He couldn’t imagine a life where he was without them, but well, here he was.
Leaning forward, Maes looked at Charles with a serious expression. “You can have all the peace you want here. Life? Is what you make it. Now!” He pointed at one of the photos of an adorable little girl with pigtails holding a sunflower. “This was taken earlier this year, well this year in my world, she loves sunflowers and she kept having to pick them and bring them to Gracia and myself.” He laughed at the memory of her running toward the field, grabbing the first sunflower she’d seen only to run back to the two of them.
~*~
Absent parents were the only kind of parents Charles Xavier really knew. He'd been loved. Pampered in many ways. No one had been there to tuck him in at night though nor had anyone taken photographs of him on simply a sunny day in a field. Until Raven had happened along, Charles had thought he'd grow up utterly alone in a house which might as well be a mausoleum. All the money in the world could not buy the pride on Maes Hughes's face as he displayed his wife and daughter to Charles.
Had anyone ever loved him that way?
He didn't think so. Charles knew no one had loved Raven in that manner. She'd been abandoned virtually from birth, declared cursed, demonspawn, some other nonsense which had nothing to do with what she was and everything to do with how she looked. If she had been raised by a father like Maes, someone proudly taking photos of her grinning blue face, carefully brushing her crimson hair to style it for every season, would she have wound up as she had? Would there even be a need to try to stop a war at all?
How much could happiness buy?
"She's a beautiful girl. Your wife is also quite lovely, Maes. You're a lucky man."
Charles meant what he said with every fiber of his being. It wasn't so much the looks of his family as the way they made him look to show them off. Any man who felt so blessed was so blessed. There was hardly room for argument with Maes beaming, literally alight with joy over only a wallet filled with photos. Charles didn't think he had even a single photo in his own wallet unless someone counted the one of himself on his driver's license.
"If only every father in the world felt as you do, I think there'd be far fewer wars and far more joy. Hopefully, in both our cases, our homes are traveling on without us and our vital information or we're there as well as here in a paradox of time and space so we serve both purposes. As it stands? Why don't you tell me a little more about your family? I'd love a distraction from The Hand attempting to entice me to become its family."
What harm could come from borrowing a little joy from a man who clearly had plenty to spare?