|
   |
It almost certainly didn't take long for word to reach Xavier. On the heels of a scheduled arrived at the gates, one that was not scheduled. A quiet confrontation in the front foyer, followed by Crystal levitating an unknown man directly out of the foyer and onto the front lawn. He left with no apparent conflict, but there are too many students here who can sense the unseen to believe that it was nothing.
After taking a little bit of time to compose herself, Crystal's first action was to seek out Charles. At the very least, he deserved an explanation.
*
Charles turns out to be in Cerebro, which is fairly easy to guess if one is sensitive enough to notice his usual mental presence across the school isn't there.
*
After ruling out the usual haunts, Crystal descends beneath the school, making her way to the cold metal chamber of Cerebro. She pauses at the entrance to the chamber, not wanting to interrupt the delicate processes. Or what she at least assumes must be delicate processes. After a moment, though, she clears her throat softly. "Charles? Do you have a moment?"
*
There's a few moments of silence, and one might wonder if she was even heard at all. But then an answering voice from inside finally responds; "Yes, just a moment." the audible thrumming of the room-sized device powered up soon fades. Soon after the doorway opens to show Charles, still a little worn around the edges but smiling warmly enough. "What can I do for you, Crystal?"
*
"I'm sorry to be the bearer of unfortunate news, Charles," Crystal says with a weariness of her own. "I'm not yet certain how, but it seems Maximus has found me here. He showed up at the front door only a few hours ago. He left," she adds quickly. "There was no conflict. This time. But…It certainly complicates matters."
*
This certainly gets Charles' complete attention, the smile disappearing. "And just what did he do?" Charles asks, spreading his awareness to check weather the man is still in the area, though from what he can tell this is no longer the case. "He was alone?"
*
"He had a few members of his guard with him, who stayed in the car." Crystal leans against the entry, arms crossed loosely over her chest. "And he did what he does best. Or what he likes to do best. He tried to sow discord, to get us to turn on each other. To get me to turn on the rest of our family," she admits, grimacing. If he brushes her mind, he can tell that she's as upset by the renewed ache of homesickness - by the knowledge that she at least considered it - as she is by anything else.
"He came to offer me a chance to go home, so long as I kept Asgard out of the equation. At least that's what he said. He also said he had something to offer Erik, to protect mutant kind, but that would be a bald-faced lie. Or something to his advantage, at the least."
*
Charles lets out a slow breath, eyes wandering as he takes in whatever surface memories Crystal has on the subject. The smile flickers back to his face for a moment when he catches the part about Crystal's bonds here outweighing the temptation of what Maximus offered.. even if there were surely strings attached, Charles knows how much that means to her, and he's deeply touched how large a part her care for the people here measured in.
"Well." Charles says, quietly clapping his hands together, "It's done for now. But you're right that we should prepare as best we may. Perhaps we.." he trails off, when he notices something he very much had not been expecting to now that his mind is again focused in Westchester. «Erik? What happened?» he sends in surprise. The context is threaded through the words— Erik's powers are active again.
*
«I'm not sure, Charles. Perhaps… proximity to Lorna?» Erik's response comes easily. «Where are you?»
*
"It is done," Crystal agrees. "And given the implications, I intend to call your friend Doctor Strange to see if there's anything he can do to help keep Maximus out of…" She waves a hand, fingers fluttering. "Somehow, I think he's been seeing or hearing me. And that won't do. The other problem, though, is his talents."
She catches her lower lip between her teeth, shaking her head slightly. "As I said when I first came here, Maximus' gifts allow him to…influence people. I wonder, Charles, if you might be able to offer some protection from that. Or at least some training in resisting outside mental influences."
*
«Certainly possible. But you're alright?» Charles responds— a good part of why he'd left things as they were was the worry Erik's powers would still be out of his control when restored, he'd wanted them both to be settled and out of the mansion when they tried it, but it would seem this time such caution was happily not necessary.
His slightly wandering gaze refocuses on Crystal once he satisfies himself there aren't any imminent metal maelstroms forthcoming. "With Asgard's people about and that hellmouth business earlier, I think it's past time we asked him for help on that front as well, in regards to the school. But he may be able to help you as well." Charles closes the door to Cerebro, and waves Crystal along the hall, his hands finding his pockets shortly after. "As for my own area of expertise, yes, there are some methods I could teach you. Raven and I used to practice them as children." even if he knows she wasn't really a child back then, some part of him still tends to think of it that way. "..And considering recent events, perhaps it's time the subject was raised to Erik as well."
Speaking of Erik, he sends an answer to the question he was asked: «I was in Cerebro monitoring Dallas and DC when Crystal stopped by to ask about mental defenses. Meet us in the study?»
*
«I appear to be in working order.» Erik ruminates on this for a moment before receiving Charles' next message. «Aright.»
*
"Mmm, getting Asgard's assistance with anything for the school may be a prickly conversation, given Thor wasn't allowed here when we were courting," Crystal points out with a flicker of a smile, distracted for a moment from her own problems by that idea. "But I'm certainly willing to try."
She follows him down the hallway, pushing a hand through her hair with a weary sigh. "Although, if you were thinking of integrating a helmet - an object - into it, then it isn't Asgard you need to speak with, per se. It's the dwarves."
*
"I was more thinking some sort of…wards, I suppose. For the school or yourself, that might limit the ability of people like Maximus or Asgardians from locating us. But that's a question for Dr. Strange." Charles grimaces and admits, "Though increasingly I'm coming to find that stopping such people from knowing about us is like carrying water in a bucket made from wicker. It may be time to seek out allies in it's protection instead, with how wide the world is becoming. In any case, one thing at a time."
Charles takes the steps two at a time, a determined sort of expression on his face. Even if the tactics might change, the intention is still very much there. "Tell me more, as specifically as you can, about Maximus' abilities." Charles prompts as they near the study.
*
By the time they reach the study, Erik has already brought some items to share. Soft pretzels, warmed in the oven, with German hot mustard, and the last of the Bitburger he'd brought back from Deutschland.
Clearly, it's time to head back to die Mutterland for more.
He turns as they enter, a tired smile upon his face. The metallic ball is still floating over his shoulder, like a little guardian. "Here I thought we'd be in bed already," he quips toward Crystal, in an effort to provide something lighter than… everything else.
*
"Wishful thinking," Crystal smiles faintly to Erik, stepping close to press a kiss to his cheek. "I wanted to let Charles know what happened. So that we could all be prepared. I'm afraid I don't know much in the way of details about Maximus' power, Charles," she continues, settling on the arm of a couch, hands folded in her lap. "I know that he can influence people. I don't know if there's a limit of time or space, or how far he can push them. Maximus is…canny. He's always hidden as much as he can from others."
*
"If you're able to bribe Lockjaw for a trip, at least the prospect may not be as sizable as it would usually be— and thank you." Charles says, collecting a pretzel. "I'll try not keep the both of you long."
Settling down in one of the chairs, Charles gestures with the pretzel, "If I can get a measure of him in future, I can guide you more precisely, but for now, it's important to remember that the largest part of telepathy is simply in allowing two minds to connect. Someone else invading your mind is at an inherent disadvantage, and even tailored powers and experience can't negate that entirely. There are ways to disrupt such a person.." he smiles a bit wanly, "One of which I'm still somewhat recovering from, as a case in point."
*
Erik nods his head soberly in regard to Crystal's explanation. He offers her one of the pretzels, having yet to introduce her to one of Germany's finest snacks; appropriate for breakfast, lunch, dinner, drinking, before and after sex, the list really goes on.
For the moment, however, he's silent. He'd never really discussed the matter with Charles before, even though he'd helped to design Cerebro; a feat that had helped drive his theory with the faulty helmet.
*
Hope takes the pretzel, giving Erik an amused smile as she tears a piece off of it, before she turns to listen to Charles' explanation. "I'd like to learn, if it's something that can be taught," she nods to him. "I…It's what's frightening about him. I can deal with politics. I know politics. But I can't afford to doubt myself."
*
"No. No, I don't believe any of us can right now." Charles takes a breath, eyes wandering thoughtfully as he takes a bite of the pretzel and considers how to put it to words. For something he's lived with for so much of his life, he's rately talked about it in this sort of depth. "So. For so much of the time all of us have our mental energy diffused… thinking on the past, the future, various doubts and fancies. When you're like that, a direction slipped under the surface, even an extreme one can be acted on with little resistance. It's the same principle that lets us do things like put our keys in the refrigerator taken to an extreme." Charles coughs.. not that he did that once in the sleep deprived throes of his thesis back in the day or anything.
"But if you focus, hone your mind down to the densest kernel of what makes you you, what matters to you in that moment, it becomes incredibly more difficult. A haphazard addition simply can't reach you, it's lodged too close to the surface. Even if it's done very well indeed, you can feel that something is out of place when you focus like that."
*
Erik listens with rapt intend, so much so that at one point, he recognizes that he's forgotten to pour any of the beers for anyone. His brow twitches, and he smirks a bit. "I just realized, I hadn't poured beers for anyone. But, even thinking of it, just now, would have essentially made me… less defended? That's what you're trying to explain, isn't it, Charles?"
*
Crystal nods along, thinking through the explanation. "So focus, then," she summarizes, smile quirking. "Like so many things, the answer is focus. And it can be very difficult to focus around him. He isn't a brute force sort of person. He's…slippery. Which is likely how his powers function as well." She purses her lips, considering. "So if I'm concerned, then it might be prudent to spend some time going through my thoughts each night before I sleep?"
*
Charles gives a quiet laugh to Erik, and he nods. "Yes, exactly. And yes, Crystal. I would recommend taking time each day or whenever you're concerned to focus, and see if anything feels wrong. Here.. an example if the two of you don't mind?"
If they don't, Charles gets to his feet, still taking bites from the pretzel as he paces a bit, looking around before finally settling his gaze on the pretzel itself. With a small smile from Charles, it turns bright blue. "Now see if you can detect that?" he prompts. He has targeted the tweak to their perceptions fairly inelegantly in regards to the pretzel, and the both of them are no strangers to focusing after all, as Crystal just pointed out.
*
Erik blinks his eyes when the pretzel turns blue. He stares at it for a moment, then begins to smirk. "Parlor trick," he asides to Crystal, before trying to make it turn back.
It doesn't work.
Erik frowns then, a flash of frustration forming upon his face, but this is a lesson. He's been here before, when Charles taught him the finer controls of his magnetokinesis. And so, he begins by choosing not to think of certain things. Of the beer, the mustard, the problems at hand. Of Charles. Of Crystal.
That one… that one is difficult.
He fights the urge to look her way, a moment of frustration flashing upon his face, before he finally chooses to stop thinking of her. THe pretzel, is all there is. Charles isn't holding it, even though he is, no, for the moment, he is… not holding it.
And of course, a pretzel isn't blue. That's preposterous.
*
Crystal eyes the pretzel, head tilting slightly at it. Pretzels are not blue, no. At first, she reaches out with her senses, feeling everything that makes up the pretzel. The air around it. The moisture inside. This all feels the way it's supposed to feel. Normal. So the source of the change…
Brows furrowing slightly, she closes her eyes. Piece by piece, she starts to rebuild her memory of the room in her mind. Chairs. Shelves. Lamps. Erik's features - admittedly with a bit of a glow that comes from the heart more than the mind. Charles' features. Everything but the pretzel, first.
*
Oddly, when Crystal reaches out her singular senses to evaluate that pretzel, for a just a split second she can't find it. The oddity passes a moment later, everything checking out unremarkable normal. By the same token as Erik is honing in his own focus, Charles himself seems to be out of place for just a moment. But as Erik focuses on the pretzel… and there, it's back to normal, no hint of blue at all.
All the while Charles watches with an encouraging nod, chuckling the moment he feels the illusion falter. "That's not bad at all, Erik— you broke through it. But if you would, try one more thing; Don't focus on the pretzel. It's what's been changed, yes, and that can work when you know what I'm doing, but not otherwise. This isn't about the room, it's about your mind. It's alright to think of the things that matter — in fact the more they matter, the stronger your resistance will be. Focus on those, not what you're up against. Give it a try?"
*
Erik blinks when the pretzel changes color, and his face forms a surprised gasp. "Wh… well it… it just…" He can't quite form the response.
He looks to Crystal for a moment, then back to Charles, listening now rather than trying to express his surprise.
Focus upon the things that matter.
This one may be tricky, for there are many things that matter. Filtering them down to the strongest ones? That will take some effort.
*
Once Crystal has rebuilt the entire scene in her mind, she adds the pretzel, half-listening to Charles' advice to Erik to guide her in the process. Bits of salt, the places where the dough is folded over itself. The color.
Only once she has the full picture perfect in her mind does she open her eyes to look at the real pretzel again, carefully attentive for that twinge of cognitive dissonance.
*
The dissonance is definitely stronger for Crystal. Especially when she willfully focuses on the details of the pretzel, still blue to her eyes. The salt, the irregularities.. it's rather like being in a dream where you know something is how it ought to be and you can focus and see it's so, but as soon as your attention shifts to the next detail you can't really remember the details you were just looking at, or be sure they're still the way they were a second ago.
It's finally enough the pretzel again shows it's true color… though somehow that doesn't seem to entirely remedy that 'off' feeling she's getting.
Charles beams at Crystal, "Well done. Though again, you were focusing more on external matters than yourself. It's easier to do and can be effective, but not as effective as getting to the true root of the matter."
*
There are people who really matter, yes. But most of them come and go. Then there is Charles. Moira. Crystalia. He holds them in a different regard than all others, and for better reason.
Good people, with good hearts. Hearts that would see mutantkind liberated from oppression.
More than mere people, however, is a thing that matters to Erik deeper than most. It's a complicated thing to put a finger on, commingled as the two matters are, but there is justice.
And vengeance.
Erik closes his eyes, a frown forming. "The things that matter," he murmurs.
Some metallic items in the room begin trembling.
*
Crystal tilts her head slightly as that off feeling persists, uncertain. "You've changed something else," she says slowly, a faint smile curving as she tries to pinpoint it. Erik's focus is fierce; Crystal's is calm. She sinks her awareness into everything around them. The flow of air, in and out of the lungs of the people in the room. Warm and cool spots where the heating system blows warm air or the windows let in cold. The stone in the walls.
Her mindscape is still unfamiliar territory to the Inhuman, but the world around her is an old friend. Anything that stands between her and it can't be true.
*
It's two different approaches to the same goal— Charles just gives an enigmatic smile at Crystal's assertion, shifting from one foot to the other as he idly toys with the pretzel. Or..is he?
It may not be the way Charles recommended, but Crystal's attunement to the world around her is so abnormally sensitive that she can suss out a thousand of those miniscule oddities to target what's out of place even without having it be blatant.. there's something off about Charles himself, and for that matter also over by the table where Erik had left the food and drinks.
For Erik's part, it's a raw but powerful sort of introspection, digging down to the things that he holds above all else. It may be difficult to really hone in on what those things are, but in the moment he truly grasps it, it's almost like an elastic band finally snapping, pulled too tight.
Crystal is able to more gradually work her way to the same result, and for the two of them Charles vanishes entirely, only to have reappeared by the table, pouring out the drinks for them all Erik hadn't yet got around to. He's beaming widely, saying, "Just like that."
*
Almost as quickly as the vibrating began, it settles. Erik opens his eyes again, only to find that Charles is no longer there. In fact, there's a tendril of his phantom that lingers in the space where he once was, but it's like a ghost image, burned into one's retina by staring at a bright light for far too long. He turns rapidly, and narrows his eyes at Charles, where he stands over by the food and drink.
"So… the more focused the mind, the more difficult it is for a telepath to change things. Because… there's less there." He shakes his head. "I'm not saying it the way I intend, but, I believe I am beginning to understand."
He looks toward Crystal, one eyebrow cocked upward. She was successful too, it would seem.
*
Crystal turns toward Charles even before the rest of her mind catches up, letting her see the professor. "Fascinating," she says, smile curving when she looks back to Erik. It's quite a step for her, given how nervous she was about Charles and his powers when she first arrived. A show of trust, to have asked him to show her this. Even more for her to still be calm when it's finished.
"Thank you, Charles. I know you're busy, but…if you wouldn't mind, I'd like to keep up this practice. Maybe twice a week or so?" she suggests. "I have a feeling things are going to come to a head with Maximus soon."
*
The nervousness Crystal and most others initially regard him with is a large part of why Charles tends to keep to harmless 'parlor tricks' as Erik put it when demonstrating his powers. Trust is a rare enough thing for all of them, and it's something he values greatly when he finds it. He's glad he was able to put it to use this time for his friends.
"The metaphor is fairly apt.. the more distilled your motivations in any given moment, the less purchase there is to wedge conflicting impulses in, in essence." Charles agrees with Erik, passing over one of the beers.
Turning to Crystal, Charles offers her one as well. "I think this is important enough to make time for." he agrees. Raising his own glass in a little toast to the other two, he takes a drink and adds with a chuckle, "Though there are certainly worse ways to spend classtime."
*
With gratitude, Erik reaches out to accept the beer, smiling. "Well, then. Here's to distilled motivations," he offers, before turning to face each in kind with bottle raised. "L'cheim."
There's careful consideration to what was mentioned earlier, about being manipulated while sleeping. Surely one has no control over what the mind does during slumber… it will take some time to become accustomed to practicing this art before going to sleep. He casts a look toward Crystal, considering all of that paired with… other things.
Yes. It will be a challenge.
*
Crystal raises her glass with the others, taking a sip of the beer even as she slips an arm around Erik's waist, head resting against his shoulder. "I am grateful for both of you," she says quietly, smile warm. "For this school. For the students. For a home that is very quickly coming to mean as much to me as my own. I understand that is the tradition here," she laughs softly. "On this weekend. For people to speak of the things they are thankful for."
*
"Distilled spirits, one might say — cheers." Charles quips to Erik.
Crystal's comment though is met with a look of surprise. After how she was fretting about the sheer culinary weight of the holiday, he's glad she didn't miss out entirely on the warmer traditions of the holiday. It's something all the dearer he feels, with all that's been going on in the world. So Charles smiles, lightly tapping his glass to hers. "I couldn't agree more. Happy Thanksgiving. "
*
Charles is met with a look when he makes that pun. Erik promises himself not to say anything about it. Of course he won't. Nope. Not gonna happen. Crystal's brevity is certainly a factor in helping him to avoid chiding Charles for his terrible humor, and he smiles toward her with a warmth that he often does not display.
"Happy Thanksgiving." The words seem weird to say. After all, it wasn't a holiday he celebrated growing up, or even into his adulthood. This is the most time he's spent in the states, ever since he and Charles first established the X-Men. Maybe he's starting to understand the meaning for it, as well.
Failed ventures. He turns back to Charles, and can't help but laugh. "Distilled spirits. My old friend, that was dreadful."
*