1963-11-29 - Journey to the Wise Man
Summary: Scarlett takes a seer to meet Charles Xavier.
Related: N/A
Theme Song: None
marie-ange rogue xavier 

Timing is king. The Institute is probably hopping nowadays with students not looking forward so much to Christmas out of fear of Doomsday, Apocalypse, or the end of the world. Kennedy is dead. Aliens want to say hello. A man out of Norse myth claims to be a god and forging treaties in the late eighth century. Why not make life a little more interesting by scheduling an appointment with arguably the world's most powerful psychic — or close enough it won't make a dent on placing him on a listing? Scarlett does have an eye for finding prospective candidates; that this one happens to be her roommate probably means her word on Marie's suitability vouches for something.

Upon securing permission, the two come into Westchester County on a blustery night where the wind howls through the forest and the centigrade tries to meet the floor. All the more reason to be bundled up warmly. And it's possibly a new experience for Marie, coming on the back of a motorcycle. The bohemian doesn't own a car; she does, however, own a damn Indian that probably would take a linebacker to control at full bore, but she treats it like a tender horse. It's living outside at the moment, her white scarf hung over the handlebars just in case anyone doubted who owned the behemoth.


The weather is turning, the sky already dimming some in the crisp air. The school however stands tall as ever, warm lights inside attesting to the life inside.

Walking up to the front door it opens, Professor Xavier himself greeting the two and ushering them in. "Scarlett, good afternoon. And Marie, I'm given to understand? Welcome to our school. Please, come inside."


The chill still begs them to hurry inside instead of hanging out on the front porch, as it were. Scarlett guides in Marie before her, encouraging her to move right along while the taller girl acts as a suitable windbreak. Those inches count. "Marie-Ange Colbert, Charles Xavier." It may be English she speaks, but the precise pronunciation of the other young woman's voice decidedly favours French. "I have meant to bring her by for quite some time now."


"It's a pleasure to meet you, miss Colbert! I'm happy we could finally arrange a meeting. I think we'd all be more comfortable in the library, and there's hot tea waiting if either of you would care for it. Shall we?" Xavier replies. Unless anyone objects, he'll wait for coats to be hung and then see the group of them to a trio of tall backed chairs in front of a warm fire, with tea at the elbow of anyone who cares for it.

Xavier himself takes a cup, augmented with a fair bit of milk which he sips as he sits. "Now, how can I help the two of you today?"


Those inches definitely count. The nice warm coat /also/ helps on a day such as this, as without it the thought of going out would have been… considerably less appealing. Still, the cards agreed that today /would/ be a good day to go out and conduct business, so when Scarlett said the opportunity was available… she went for it.

Since walking in, she's been pretty quiet; taking in the atmosphere of the place. In truth, it's almost like something right out of her memories — she hasn't been in a home this large since she was a little girl; and even then she's not even sure it was /this/ large. Memories of that time of her life are pretty hazy, though!

"Enchante, Monsieur Xavier." Marie answers meekly, drawing her first card openly - the Justice card. A card of karma, fairness and truth. That's a point in Xavier's favor right from the start. That done, she dips into a proper curtsey as a smile takes over her lips, and moves to hang up her coat afterwards. "Tea would be wonderful, oui." she agrees, the heavily accented voice sounding content. "I was… I was wondering…" she trails off and looks over to Scarlett now, eyes wide in a 'help me' fashion. There's a teensy bit of nerves, mostly about her English. When discussing /this/ with a stranger, she wants to use the right words.


Xavier leading the way brings two redheaded birds in his wake, a pair of swans padding their way through the institute's elegant interior. Scarlett may be the more quiet of them, her feet light against the floor, familiarity carrying her through easily enough. Nonetheless, her azure eyes pass over the walls and windows in search of changed features, a factor not especially evident but present if one watches her.

Tea, as she drinks it, needs no milk or sugar. Or at least not much, though surely she appreciates the adulterants when she wants them. A cup poured for herself, another she brings over for Marie, adding a sprinkling of sweetener. "Sit, cherie, I can carry this over easily enough. "Professor Xavier, Mademoiselle Colbert is new to our community, and recently found herself in New York. She has the gifts of a seer and a diviner. That she might likely be a mutant is not established certainly; I have assumed her gifts, however, would fall in that vein. More importantly, she has shown a special capacity for insight and kindness that led me to recommend we come here. If anyone might be able to answer certain questions she has, it would be you."


The flip of the card draws a curious look from Xavier, though rather than immediately protest or question her on it he wonders, "Preferez-vous que nous parlons francais Marie?" his accent exactly the same as hers. It's not difficult to pick up Marie's nervousness after all, and sometimes a comfortable means of communication can make all the difference, so he offers.

Rogue meanwhile is already shedding some light on the card drawing, and the situation in general. His expression softens into a smile as Rogue describes Marie, and he nods around a sip of tea. Still opting for French unless asked otherwise he replies, "<Whatever the origin of your gifts Marie, you're welcome here. Especially if Scarlett has vouched for you. Now, perhaps you could tell me more about these questions you have?>"


Relief washes over her face as Scarlett takes over the talking — Marie taking the time now to handle the tasks of taking her seat and accepting the tea from her friend, "Merci beaucoup." is offered as she collects the cup, cards set upon one leg and in clear view while she's seated. Scarlett would know that she /usually/ hides them within her clothing where prying eyes can't see. This definitely isn't the case today. The compliments, however, quickly bring a rosiness to her cheeks… that caught her off-guard and is quickly hidden away by taking a longer-than-necessary sip from her cup.

…and then the Professor starts speaking in her native tongue. Even matching the Lyonnaise's accent? That draws a bit of surprise, but double the relief, to be certain. "<Yes, please! My English, it… I am not always sure I express myself as clearly as I mean to.>" she replies, taking to the switch in language like a fish to water. Being welcome is a good thing. No instant recoil from her cards, or accusations that she's a Satanist is a good thing. "<As Scarlett said, I am able to peer forward into the things yet to come. Events small and large hold few mysteries to me, as long as I know to look.>" The Kennedy assassination is a prime example; she saw it coming. She didn't know to get all the details, but she was prepared.

"<It… is something that has been in my family for generations, as far as I am aware.>" More specifically, she learned how to read the cards from her grandmother. Her mother… she's unsure of, as well as any generations past her grandmother. "<However, there is /more/ that I can do with them, that others could not. Things…>" her eyes tilt towards the floor, teeth digging into her lower lip for a moment. "<…things that some have called quite terrible, or worse. I… I wish to understand, Professor. I seek knowledge that escapes me, and Scarlett spoke fondly of you.>" There's a glance to the side, and a smile offered to the taller redhead - Scarlett's word means a lot.


Scarlett speaks fluent French, albeit not quite as perfectly as the native Lyonnaise. Her own modulations put her somewhere in the south, too, though not quite as directly east against the Alps. Give her a few weeks or one unfortunate encounter, she will sound nearly identical to Marie.

Her tea is something to drift into, not completely tasted yet. The conversation matters more, and while Charles deals with Marie, she observes the two of them through indirect means. Staring would be rude, after all. Instead, obliquely watching expressions and listening to them by body language, or tone, proves effective enough without the misdirection of other distractions. "«She bravely put herself in harm's way three times to do good»," she adds out of the blue. "«During an unfortunate robbery of a bakery, she stayed to assure we were protected instead of wisely taking shelter elsewhere. Though in your defense, darling, I do not think you quite appreciated how little the bullets would do. The explosion…»" One can lament the loss of a dress!


And that's a good part of why he does place weight on Rogue's impression of people.. she's both perceptive and thoughtful, not forming such impressions lightly. "<It sounds as if the two of you have already shared some adventures. ..But, a gift for precognition? That….sounds like a very heavy responsibility to live with.>" Charles says, his expression a mix of impressed and sympathetic. He does glance to the cards, already used once since her arrival. "<And the cards play a part?>"

It's puzzling to say the least to be told that tarot may in fact be real, but then again it was just the other day he was taking tea while consulting with a bona fide sorcerer. If nothing else, it's possible Marie is simply channeling whatever it is she taps into through a familiar framework.


"<I will not take chances with your safety if there is a chance I can prevent harm to you.>" is offered to the taller girl.

Scarlett's effectively helping Marie turn a share of scarlet herself, however, with all the kind words. This is a girl who's not used to praise being heaped upon her — far more accustomed to the opposite, although that's slowly changing. Doubly so when the other is around. "<The cards lay out my path, Professor. They tell me what I must do, how I must respond to challenges. It… was a harsh burden to accept, when I was just a child, but as I have grown I have learned to accept my place and walk the path set before me, whatever it may be."

She doesn't make decisions on her own; it's always the cards, or occasionally even Scarlett that she relies on to help her make decisions. "<…and yes, the cards are…>" she considers for a moment, debating how to explain it. "<…as a window to one who wishes to see outside their home. Without them, I am nothing.>" In her opinion, at least.


The redhead going pink is easy to attain: just look at them funny. Chase them with the sun. They will turn colours as easily as a chameleon. Though the yoga master practicing meditation in the room does not blush easily, she hasn't been given reason to do so. Scarlett's oddly braided hair shifts off her shoulder when she settles in, sipping her tea again from the cup and listening to the flow of the conversation.


"<Well, from what I've heard of you thus far, I would say quite a bit more than nothing.>" Charles notes with a chuckle, looking between the two. It's clear enough they care a great deal for one another. "<But if they let you make sense of whatever ability it is you have, then I suppose that's the important part for now. I take it you'd like to better understand just what it is you do?">

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