X-2012 Mod (x_mod) wrote in x_2012, @ 2010-02-26 13:02:00 |
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Entry tags: | professor x |
Charles gets other things in motion
Who: Xavier (Narrative)
What: Business as usual. NOTE: This impacts Elixir, Cable, Havok, Warpath, Wolverine, Shatterstar, Forge and others directly or indirectly. Please have your pups act accordingly. (This is off the top of my head, applies to anyone with formal military training)
When: Friday morning, after this.
Where: Charles' office
"That will be all, Mr. Foley. This is no time for idle hands, and I thank you for your understanding and disposition."
It had been a productive morning, in spite of Xavier's feeling of defeat and forced detachment. He had spoken to Elixir, informing him that his training as medical staff was to begin immediately. He also encouraged him to train, either with the X-teams or with one of the independent resident groups that had begun to receive training for self-defense, hand-to-hand combat and team tactics. Whether he joined a team or not, he was a fit, strong young man, and he should be prepared for the hard times ahead.
For all that he hated the fact that it was starting to look like the Haven was training their own private militia, with the way things stood, there was simply no way he could just let all these mutants run around untrained in case the Haven was hit by an outside force. In such a scenario, it was more than likely that untrained, panicking mutants would level the Haven from within before any attackers had a chance to do any damage.
Before speaking to Foley, he had been in contact with anyone and everyone who had formal military training in their heads with a proposition. They would either agree or not. Xavier was confident that there were enough people with such data in their heads that if one or two agreed he would have sufficient information to go on. With the help of Cerebro, Charles would access their experience and create a psionic package that he could then theoretically implant onto the minds of those potential combatants who agreed beforehand to being on the receiving end of the procedure. He was under no delusion that this would create insta-soldiers. At most, it would give those so inclined a head start on the theory of how to go about doing certain things. They would still have to practice and train like anyone else, but at least they would go in knowing which end of the gun to grab.
Charles closed the comm and rubbed his temples tiredly. How he managed to sound cordial and professional at a time like this, even he could not explain. Necessity, plain and simple, he thought to himself. We push forward through it all. He had slept nary a wink through the night. It was no blessing that he could not help but to telepathically overhear the depths of Erik's disappointment and anger. Even when his long time friend centered himself and quieted his mind, Charles was left with his own thoughts and that vague, sickly feeling of self-loathing that having registered left him with.
While he never expected Erik to be happy about his decision, he had dared hope the man would be more... understanding. Perhaps that was the right word for it. He trusted that, in time, Erik might truly come to see the necessity for such an action, and come to forgive him. He would trust that, but he had no time to worry about it now. The fact that Cooper; a man whose mind he had unwittingly destroyed the day his powers manifested and who had since become his faithful manservant; did not comfort him in the slightest.
The good of the many was slowly eating away at Charles Xavier's much admired code of honor. He had to make hard decision after hard decision. He had allowed criminals and murderers into his home, all for the sake of keeping mutantkind safe. He knew that one day he would be reviled by some of his darker choices, those that nobody yet knew about. But registering had made his heart the heaviest, out of all of those.
No matter. Charles did what he had always done: he got back to work. No sense in wasting a whole morning feeling sorry for himself when there was so much to do, and so little time to do it.