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Kaleb Miller was a lot of things. He was abrasive, arrogant, opinionated, and emotionally cold. He was also notably honest and punctual so when the Professor told him he'd like to see him and he agreed the young man who oddly knew too much kept true to his word and was on time. He was back in the school after taking time off for health reasons after his seizure in the lab. It seems after a discussion with Jean Grey he'd become more amicable to giving things another chance. She had a way with people it seemed. He shouldn't be surprised that the professor was expecting him. Charles Xavier was the world's most accomplished telepath, but it was no less impressive to him. Kaleb looked at least put back together expertly as if he was channeling the soul of a 65 year old Wall Street shark, but he wore it well. He was still getting used to being around many noises at once, but the earplugs he was wearing continuously seemed to at least help buffer this. Whatever swizzled his DNA did a good job at raising the challenges of day to day life.
He cleared his throat and skipped the pretense of announcing his presence and opened instead with, "Afternoon." It could have gone worse, but he did have a modicum of propriety and respect for the man.
The Professor hmms a bit, then glances up towards Kaleb, "Good afternoon. Please, have a seat." Rising up, the man gestured to a chair, his voice not incurring the discomfort that might otherwise be happening… since he was actually projecting his voice mentally instead with his telepathy.
Once Kaleb sits, the Professor does likewise, looking at Kaleb with a curious expression, "We haven't had that many opportunities to converse, the past few weeks, and I do want to apologize for that. But I'm glad that we were able to find the time now."
Kaleb walked in and sat as invited to giving the Professor a wry glance before discerning, yes, he is using the Kaleb method of communicating. There was a vast appreciation there. "Things happen, Professor. I'll manage." Hell he was used to being left to his devices, and as fortune had it, found an unlinkely benefactor for recovery at least. "Is this about the missing persons, or something else?" Direct. Always direct it would seem is the best defense if someone was used to politics in a social space.
The Professor tilts his head at that, continuing the mental speech, "Well, I just haven't had the chance to speak with you much, since you have arrived, and with everything that has happened since… I thought it best to see how you were feeling." He leaves it somewhat neutral, allowing Kaleb the opportunity to vent, to express himself… to do whatever he'd like to do, really.
Kaleb sat very, very still. There was a lot to think about and he wasn't one to blurt out an answer without weighing it first. So. much. stuff. In the end he shrugged offering the truth as lies were not only moot but took effort. "Angry. Terrified. Isolated. Trying not to let the world cause my head to explode. Concerned I guess. I mean in teh last two months I saw a buddy get dissected, got kidnapped, woke up in a lab with zero abilities, and then had them rush back in a scrambled mess, got blackmailed, got attacked on all fronts by the people I trusted, and saw a kid get tormented in the Congo. So I guess… it was not how I wanted to spend my 18th birthday. SO I guess… I'm concerned."" He took a deep breath and left his expression mute, but calm, "How've you been?" There was a faint smile at the irony. "Really though, I'll survive. Frankly, I'm worried about the kids they found in Iceland. I told Rogue and Ms. Grey I want in on East Berlin." Seems Erik wasn't the only one allergic to sitting still in a school rather than going and doing something. "Really, how are you?" He did seem to focus in on that part of his thought stream.
The Professor can't help but snort a bit at that, shaking his head, "Yes, you have been through a lot, and I have to say, you've held up rather admirably all things considered." He smiles a touch, his expression one of reassurance, "You did make it through all of that intact, so that's something. And rather admirable, all things considered." He pauses, then ahems, "Well, personally, I'm fine… I must admit, I'm wishing I hit that Masque person that abducted Logan a bit harder when I had the chance. And Moi… ah, Doctor MacTaggart is back in New York, so that's good as well." He coughs slightly at that.
Kaleb cracked a faint smile, but a genuine one. A dip of his head followed. "I heard about that. Also heard it could be dangerous to touch em so maybe it's best you didn't. Maybe give him a migraine, or a craving and just eat in front of em?" He had a very effective, street level solution for personal torment. Hey, it was better than genocide. "Dr. MacTaggaart? What's she a doctor of? Physics? Psyche? Medical doctor?" He didn't ofte hear women referred to as 'doctor'. This was interesting.
Charles chuckles softly, "Well, I doubt he'll be recovering from what happened anytime soon. Which reminds me, I need to speak again with Caliban, but…" He shakes his head, "Moira MacTaggart has her PhD in genetics, we met when I was getting my own doctorate at Oxford." A bit of a wry smile at that, as he recalls those times. Simpler times, really.
Kaleb says, "Genetics? Impresive to see a woman with a degree as such. Not to be blunt, but most colleges make that sort of thing hard as hell." He wasn't blind to social conventions. Hell he was genuinly impressed. Finally eh asked, out loud, with much curiosity, "You know if he could maybe see what they… ya know did to mine?" His brow furrowed and there was a faint, faint sense of shame there (who knew it existed), "Not to be self serving, but they had me holed up and injected with an insane amount of things before Max, Vic, Jay, and my brother cracked me out. I'm trying to discern what their angle is. I have a theory that I've been mulling about as to what the purpose of taking is. We've been coming out changed, not… switched off. I mean I was 'off' for a while but Ieither they're really abd at 'curing' us or someone's got ideas, ya know?""
The Professor frowns at that, and nods, "I'll bring Moira up here and we'll run a series of tests on you. It could be that they are looking for a way to permanently suppress the mutant gene. A 'cure' for lack of better terms, as if it were a disease." He shakes his head, "Don't worry, we won't confine you to the medbay. At least not yet." He looks a bit amused at that, as if making a joke.
Kaleb flashed Charles a look that was just ready to go to war; not with him, withthe world to defend their rights to genetic expression. His jaw tightened but instead of words there was a nod of agreement. Yes, that solution was reasonable. Fianlly he offerd, "Yeaaaah my alst trip to the medbay didn't go so well. but if it'll help, me or others to run a comparative analysis? Sure. Hell you can run my DNA against Kellan's right? Ours should for the most part be the same I'd imagine. See what if anything changed too much?" At least the to-be architect favoured an analytical approach. Finally he took a deep breath. "What were you studying while she was busy poking at DNA with a fork anyways?" The Professor was an unknown quotient and there was one way around that: ask.
Charles laughs softly, "Actually, my own genetics doctorate, with a minor in bad pickup lines." He grins a bit, "And then, well, I met Moira." He leaves it at that, but it's pretty clear that she's far more than 'just a colleague', confirming the rumor mill around school about the two.
Kaleb slouched in teh chair a bit. Okay the steel came out of his spine which may be a decent start. There was an amusement there arching one eyebrow "You meet her over the genetics or the bad pickup lines?" The kid actually chuckled and admitted, "Hey I'm terrible at them. I just got a date for the weekend over litigating the quality of lobster in Boston Harbour vs. New York harbour. If you got a doctorate in bad pick ups you should be sharing withteh rest of us who are socially unfortunate." At least he had no illusions about his personality.
Charles grins, "If they were bad pickup lines, I think I'd be doing you a disservice, Kaleb." He looks amused, stifling a laugh, "Well, I was much younger then, about your age, truth be told. Things were a little different." He pauses, then hmms, "I think the best advice I can offer is be honest, really. Not much for wisdom from me, I know…"
Kaleb shrugged and grinned "Hey, I appreciate honesty. Anyone that can't handle me being honest? I don't need em." Which really didn't win him many friends but he'd rather get things done than be personable it seemed. "That's still… pretty groovy that you get to work together. She um… she like…"he flicked a finger from himself to teh professor and back, "like us?" He wasn't about to use the M word but finally put it out on teh table. "So… I owuld like to pick your brain as a man of science. If a geneticist asks you what we are, what is the answer? Mutant seems so derrogatory and we aren't human. Where's that leave us on a technical level? Do we have a better name for it?"
The Professor hmms, "Oh no, she's a perfectly exceptional human being, Kaleb." He smiles a bit, "Well, mutant is probably the correct term, though I never regarded it as derogatory, but rather neutral. Though of course it can be skewed one way or the other." He pauses, "I think my struggle with a different term is that it might elevate us as if we were above humanity, and not part of it. If that makes sense?"
Kaleb furrowed his brow and he…didn't seem to get it. "That's like trying to convince the Japanese that they're caucasian by the sound of it. They're not and one shouldn't be the baseline for the other." He really viscerally wanted zero to do with being associated as 'human' but he was hearing him out. He at least was listening to the perspective he was asking for. "I think I need more to go on. I'm not…going to throw out blanket statements but we're not human. I'm trying to explain this to someone else that's not who keeps calling me that and I'm not okay with it. I need some sort of… science to understand it though." He took a deep breath, "You're suggesting a bridge apart, not a lifght of stairs up? Still, we need a word and some of our dignity back."
The Professor arches a brow, "Perhaps the problem is perspective. You feel that mutant is a perjorative, instead of a neutral expression. But I can understand that frustration." Considering that he's best friends with Erik, that isn't exactly hard to believe.
Kaleb sat still and really took that in. He relented, "Maybe. Where I come from it's never been an equal term and is treated as a problem to be 'resolved' like other minorities." He took a deep breatha nd was really of two minds on the situation. "I'm suggesting maybe we should change their perspective. I'm not… saying we need to claim superiority. I'm just saying maybe if we could be seen as our own thing as we are they'll stop treating us as deficient and malfunctioning. But fine, I guess 'mutant' for now it is." Which for him was still a word weilded as a weapon to subjugate them but… whatever. There was no perfect immediate solution. "You should consider asking her out ya know. Ms. Grey told me I need to do soemthing for me. You should get out more and do somethign for you too. She's a smart woman." As opposed to referrin to her as the crabby telepath. He was, turns out, capable of respect. "And I do appreciate the talk."
Charles blinks at Kaleb, then laughs, "Why, Kaleb, are you telling me to ask Moira out on a date?" He gets a bit of a sly grin, "I'm afraid you're far too late for that, but I do appreciate your concern. Moira and I are… well, we are." He actually blushes a little bit, "Though I think Ms. Grey is right in that you do need to do something for yourself. Don't worry so much about what the world thinks of us. Rather, ask yourself, what do you think of you."