1963-07-21 - Xavier Workout
Summary: A workout at the Xavier Institute gym is interrupted with talk of Raven and the possibility of her being mother to Kurt Wagner.
Related: None
Theme Song: None
xavier crystal erik 

Crystal has been an advocate of the new training plans for the students at the school. She's said before that her people had their own ways of training, of making certain that those with new powers have control. And that she's capable of protecting herself in more ways than one. At the moment, she's in the process of demonstrating that.

Dressed in a form-fitting yellow and black suit that isn't at all her usual attire, with her hair pulled back in a ponytail, Crystal is at one of the heavier punching bags - the ones for the students with physical enhancements. Her hands neatly wrapped, she's moving around it with surprisingly effective punches and knees that rattle the stand.


Erik is at one of the smaller punching bags, going for repetition and endurance rather than a heavier workout. He doesn't wear a flashy outfit; not that he hasn't worn something similar before, but he hasn't yet fully embraced the whole concept. The self fashioned armor, well, that's something else.

Between punches, he glances Crystal's way. He hasn't been entirely sure what to say since their evening in the library, but the way she's working the bag has him remembering just how much more there is to her than meets the eye.

"So, uh," he starts, then stops for two reps, pressing his lips together tightly. "I've always been more of an endurance trainer," he says, then stifles a grimace. "You know. Lengthy runs, and… things."

Erik is dressed simply, in a white tank top, brown shorts and sneakers. His hands are also wrapped. "Some lifting, of course, but… not usually in a gymnasium."


Speaking of someone not usually found in a gymnasium, Charles Xavier wanders in with a glass in his hand, now that he's fairly sure all of the students have gone to bed or have secluded themselves in the wings of their individual dorm rooms. Noticing Crystal and Erik, he decides to drop by.

"Evening, Crystal. Erik. How is the training?"


Crystal's smile quirks as she looks around the bag at Erik. "Yes, I'd noticed," she replies, tone entirely too even for the glint of humor in her eyes. "Honestly, I'm used to sparring with my cousins." Wait, is she carrying on the metaphor, or she being literal? "It's taken me some time to figure out how to use this thing properly." She waves a hand at the bag, taking a step back and reaching up to tighten her ponytail.

She steps around the bag toward Erik just as Charles arrives, smile flashing when he walks in with a glass. "And apparently the professor prefers an entirely different sort of exercise," she laughs. "Glass-lifting."


A rueful smirk is cast back Crystal's way. Erik is about to retort with something equally subtextual, when he stops. "Your -" he stammers, then flinches when he misses a rep, ducking his head back to avoid being smacked by the swinging bag.

Scowling, Erik steps away from the punching bag. Seeing that Crystal is coming his way, he wipes the scowl off his face, and makes a movement to join her. "Here, let me -" he starts, and begins reaching for her ponytail, when Charles enters.

Erik stops like a deer in headlamps. "Oh. Hello, Charles," he says, and gives his old friend a nod of the head.

"Trust me," he murmurs askance toward Crystal, "he knows how to throw a good punch."


"Funny thing about working in here," Xavier says with a smile. "It looks to be very difficult. And sweaty." He gives a fake shiver of disgust. In truth he works out now and again, but not to the levels of most of the X-men. He's never been much of a warrior.

Charles returns the nod to Erik before posing a question that's been bothering him all day. Though Xavier hasn't lived in England in a very long time, his accent always comes out more intense when he gets conversational. He holds his glass towards his head as he scratches the back of it, "Erik, did Raven ever talk to you about having any children? I met with a man today, a man I have met before down in Hell's Kitchen. Apparently Raven told him that he is, in fact, her son."


Crystal gives Erik a small smile while her back is to Charles, but she looks considerably less nervous. Then again, maybe she's just resigned to the futility of hiding anything from psychics. At his question, though, she looks between the pair, arching a brow curiously. "That seems like the sort of thing one would be unlikely to forget?" she says, half a question.


Hiding things from the psychics. On that note, Erik had better start acting his normal self.

He clears his throat, after smiling Crystal's way, then turns back to Charles. The question, of course, catches him by surprise.

"A… children? No, she never mentioned… and frankly, she isn't… well, I suppose we don't know exactly how old she is, do we?" Charles claims to have known her as a young girl, but how exactly could they know a shapeshifter's age?

A dubious look is cast Crystal's way. "Tell me more about this man?" he asks, while unwrapping his hands.


"I wouldlike to think that her powers and her flair for half truths were both not so powerful until she was much older than when we first met. Of course, I've been surprised in the past," Xavier admits.

"He was a man with blue skin, yellow eyes, and a tail. He hailed from Germany and was taken by the Nazis, from what I gather. His name is Kurt Wagner."


"He works at the Eight Ball," Crystal adds when Charles identifies the man, surprised and then amused. "Apparently people have been encouraging him to come here. Armando took me there," she explains, looking between the two. "We thought it might be useful to put the word out about my sister there, in case anyone should see her."

She starts to unwrap her own hands as well, pausing to check her nails in the process. "If she was that young when she joined you, Charles, perhaps that's why she never spoke of it. I doubt she'd want to relive that sort of trauma."


"Blue skin…" Erik doesn't have to repeat the part about yellow eyes. The tail doesn't match, but everything else seems to match Raven's natural form. He considers the news, but before much thought can truly take place, Crystal identifies him further.

Looking from Charles to Crystal, he raises an eyebrow. "Raven is, unfortunately, up to no good right now. I wonder what interest she has in revealing herself to this… Herr Wagner." He looks back to Charles. "Hell's Kitchen. Isn't that where all of that mob warfare is heating up? What in blazes is a man with blue skin and yellow eyes doing there?"


"That could be, Crystal, but if Raven is truly the age she says she is, and Kurt is truly the age he says he is, it would seem that someone is lying. Because it'd be genetically impossible for a child that young to procreate." He lifts his glass and shakes his head, "Somebody's lying about something." He tilts his head at Erik, "You haven't spoken with her? Judging by when I last saw you two, the night she went away, it seemed you were rather close. I was hoping you could shed some light on it and, perhaps, ask her the next time you rendezvoused with her."


"Refusing to run from who he is," Crystal answers Erik's question, lifting one shoulder in a shrug as she rolls the wrappings neatly back up. "It's why he had no interest in coming to the school. He wants to stay out in the world. If he really is her son, perhaps he gets it from her."

Considering, she tips her head to one side. "It seems that the options are either she's lied to you for years - hard to imagine, honestly," she notes to Charles. "Or she's lied to him. Which is, admittedly, easier to fathom. To encourage him, to console him. To give him the feeling of having a place."


Charles receives one of those looks, of a kind unique to Erik Lensherr. Not quite brooding, not quite plaintiff, but not exactly friendly. "Not as close as you might think, Charles," he answers tightly. "I appreciated her for what she truly is, and for that, I believe she loathes me." He shakes his head. "I'm afraid there will be no rendezvous. Least not one that I'm able to bring about."

He looks next to Crystal, and nods his head in silent agreement to her latter position. "She's plotting something, and she's seeking help. I don't believe what she's plotting will be profitable for anyone." He gives Charles an upnod. "Maybe we should bring Wagner here."

To use as bait. He doesn't need to say it.


"That could be, Crystal. I really am not sure. I could look, and it might be something I add to the reasons I would need to enter her tortured mind, but I would prefer her to just tell me the truth."

Xavier chuckles and takes a sip from his drink, "I cannot keep track any longer. And I do not have my slide rule with me. Wagner will not come and we will not use him. He is happy where he is and I would not wish to tamper with that in any way. Rather, I would prefer to do this the old fashioned way. Straight up and honest."


Crystal gives Erik a chiding look for the implications of his words, but Charles provides the words to go with it. "He'd make a poor lure anyhow," she murmurs. "If she left him for all those years and she wasn't already still there with him, then even if it's true, I doubt she's terribly attached to him. Which is its own sort of shame," she grimaces. "He seemed a very nice young man."

Then again, that seems to be Crystal's assessment of most people. Willing to believe the best of them. "I wish I could help, but I'm afraid I don't know enough about what motivates her to offer anything useful."


That chiding look stings, more than it would from most. "I don't want to see anyone else getting tangled up in her nonsense," he adds, to his defense, before walking over to fold up his wrappings and set them down on a shelf nearby.

When he rejoins Charles and Crystal, he folds his arms. "The old fashioned way?" he asks, then smirks. "Charles, when has anything involving people like us been old fashioned."

Still, Erik finds he has little idea what exactly Charles intends to do. "I might be mistaken," he asides to Crystal, "but I believe he's concerned with what motive Raven has for revealing this… whether it be a truth or a lie." He looks to her then. "If there's one thing about Raven Darkholme? She's always up to something."


"The way I see it we have two options: Seek Raven out and ask her directly or invade her mind. The first one would be the old fashioned way, whether our people are new or not. I feel we owe her that. But if she refuses and forces our hand, then both she and the rest of us will need to deal with the consequences," Xavier says.


"I suspect if finding her to ask her were as easy as all that, you'd have fewer questions in the first place," Crystal points out, a hand brushing Erik's shoulder in silent reassurance as she moves past him to set her own wrappings down. "What about cerebro, though?" she asks as she turns back. "It could find my sister, but there are reasons she could be different from what you've designed it to find. Couldn't you use it to find Raven?"


Erik's jawline is set. He knows that Charles does not enjoy invading other people's minds, and frankly, Erik doesn'tblame him. It's an ability that is morally ambiguous at best, traumatic at worst. The muscles in his jaw only slacken when Crystal brushes his shoulder, and his head moves slightly toward her with a flash of gratitude.

"It… doesn't work like that," he answers of Cerebro. "Raven's mind is… different."

He looks back to Charles inquisitively. Neither of them have spoken of why, exactly, this revelation is so troubling, but whatever may be going through each man's mind, it is clearly worth the trouble.


"We could use it to find her in a way. It would be exhausting, but we could do it. That being said, I have a feeling that she might be willing to speak to us. I do not think she could say no, actually, but we shall see. I will put a phone call in to Kurt and see if he can set something up," Xavier says a bit forlornly. "I need to go to bed. Don't stay up too late, and when you go to bed, be careful for the other students. Good night."

"If there's any way I can help, Charles, just let me know," Crystal offers. "Though really, this seems like something very…personal." She glances between the pair, completely ignoring the last comment. Pfft, other students. They're not students at all!

"Next time we'll try running, if that's your preference," she smiles swiftly over at Erik. "In the meantime, I should get cleaned up before bed," she notes, looking herself over. "Sleep well, Charles."

Admittedly, it probably doesn't take a psychic to pick up on the invitation in the look she casts over her shoulder at Erik on her way out.


Erik's eyebrows rise. Was that… did he really just… the shock soon gives way to a mild smirk, and he looks Crystal's way. "Indeed," he answers, and watches her depart for a long moment before running a hand through his hair. "I could use some freshening up myself," he murmurs, then looks toward Charles with a crooked grin. "Good night, old friend."

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