[ The video is of a small and bright bathroom, swinging around at a blur to focus on the mirror, selfie-style. Charles Xavier, wearing a thick sweater, hands gloved save for bone-white fingertips peeking through the wool, only meets the focus of the lens once, mostly by accident. His breath hits the air as steam, as if the temperature has spiked low.
He sets his stare on the mirror, determined. Nothing really happens. Not for a few minutes. But he is patient. And looks increasingly tense, transfixed, as if in an unsettling staring competition with himself, or something reflected.
Then, finally, the edges of the mirror seem to distort. Hard bathroom lines shown in its image bend and shift as if the surface itself were disturbed, and the glass seems to crack.
A violent jolt as Charles twitches the phone away, the viewer given a sense of vertigo as the view is left hanging over the tiled floor. ]
There, [ is breathed out, equal part nerves and relief that he's finally managed it. Then it goes black. ]
[ It doesn't take long for him to reply -- whatever the delay is probably has more to do with the fact that Charles is predisposed towards leaving his communicator behind when he goes places, than whether or not he wishes to speak to a fairy princess.
Probably, anyway. After all, he had said he'd want to. He calls her, the sound of his voice tinny on speaker phone, but his tone kindled amused -- he's still getting the hang of these things too. ]
It occurs to me we don't have an in and out log yet. [ --is the most amazingly bullshit bureaucratic thing Severus has ever uttered (or typed) which means the followup is probably going to be amazing, ] I used one of the back rooms to dispose of something away from the general populace, which is why the walls are a bit more burnt than before.
[ 'A bit more burnt' 'completely nuked from the inside but nothing was in there anyway' w/e same difference. ]
Hello Charles. I didn't know who to call in the genetics department, but since you and I already know each other I thought it might be easier to just speak to you about it.
The volunteer situation is looking pretty dire across the ship. Following the jump, I was thinking of posting a general announcement letting everyone know just how much of an emergency this is, with a space to put them straight in contact with the relevant departments. Could you swing responding to that, or find out who in the department might handle recruitment best?
I'd put you in touch with Princess Nuala, as unlikely as I know that has the potential of sounding, considering. But she's been kind enough to lend the division a softer touch when it comes to human relations.
But you're right about dire. I appreciate you looking into it.
We haven't met but I'm wondering if you'd like to put your abilities to use on Arima. I have a plan that will be to our benefit and it could use a telepath. It shouldn't be very complicated for you and will probably just take an evening. If you're interested I'll explain the details.
Miles Edgeworth is a telekinetic with minimal to no training on how to use his ability and a tendency to lash out with it unconsciously when in emotionally heightened states. He is possibly being compromised further due to torture under Morgoth on Arima. He is refusing to seek help.
I would like your opinion on whether or not this is worth reporting to his superior in security.
[ There's a long pause and shuffling, the sound of walking and nothing else, then silence, then-- ] I know, I know. [ Sheppard's voice strengthens as he speaks directly to Charles again. ] I didn't want to bother Tyke with this. I needed to hear someone else's voice. Only a lunatic would patrol alone out here. Well--lunatics and bug people.
[ The footsteps stop, pause, and resume. Again he speaks to someone else, or perhaps to himself, a mantra muttered under his breath. ] I know. I'm coming.
[ Hesitation and distance both stop Charles contacting Sheppard any more than via communications device, and his tone is curious. Reserved in caution. ]
You shouldn't be patrolling alone-- who are you talking to?
If you're about to tell me that you're going to follow the will-o-the-wisp into the bog too then I should put on record that I really would appreciate you didn't.
[ There is a delay, which is probably expected. Perhaps the most surprising thing is that the delay is only that, delay, and not ongoing silence. ]
manipulation on an atomic level saw brief popularity in the late 50s. the context was complex circuitry in computing and some speculation on biological implications. swallowing the doctor. chemical synthesis through mechanics. your William's society is far advanced than my own scientifically. we had more science fiction novellas on this topic than fact and theory. on the other hand, that may be the better way to think about it.
if you can't pick up anything magically then one can rule out that ship-specific technology alone is denying its existence but remembering that ship-specific technology is in our veins.
[ The pause that follows is awkward, for Xavier, and standard, for Tyke. More people he hasn't spoken to in ten years, or never did. More people he hasn't spoken to in three weeks. For a moment, he isn't sure what the message means. The housing situation he just spoke to Emma about? Is this Tyke-ese for asking how he is?
That'd be optimistic of him. But not too long later, he hedges with; ]
As a member of the Xenobiology & Genetics Department ("Xenogen"), your peers are as follows:
Professor Severus Snape CXO » 028 » 084 Doctor Odessa Knutson SCI » 030 » 108 Professor Charles Xavier SCI » 026 » 100 Queen Nuala SCI » 027 » 083 Doctor Samantha Grimm SCI » 033 » 193 Gwen Stacy SCI » 033 » 151 Hermione Granger SCI » 032 » 015 We've been offered assistance by Jack Harkness OPR » 001 » 003 on an as-needed basis (xenoanthropology/ship history consultant). If you know of anyone interested in joining the department, forward them to me.
* Despite collective fatigue and recovery from the difficulties over the previous jump, it is imperative that as much of it is documented as possible. Professor Xavier is handling the primary case file, if you were active at all during this incident please coordinate with him promptly.
* The situation with the unstable patient being contained in the higher laboratory levels is no longer critical, as such those areas are no longer off limits.
* I believe it will be beneficial to attend Carolyn Fry's 'space training' program when the lot of us, flight crew included, are more properly on the mend. Let me know when you're recovered so that I may schedule it for the department as a group.
[ It's hard to see much of anything, the video filled with black shadow and strange red light turning up shapes and shadowy reflections off glass and metal, but for those familiar with the third level of the science department, that is what it is.
Charles keeps the comms device recording at around chest level as he moves towards the back, approaching a wall that is black not just from darkness, but painted as such. He approaches a mural, wherein the feed immediately starts to warp, grainy static obscuring the image. ]
Of course, [ is muttered. Through the static, there's a new light source -- a flashlight roaming over the picture, fixing where the face would be. ] Looks like substantial damage is scratched into the face, physically. I'm going to see if--
[ There's a pause. Silence. The implication of movement of paint over the wall, but again, it's hard to see through the visual noise and interference. The image itself appears to shrink, black filling in. ]
I've changed the mural back to the way it was, for the record. Going to find a new home for it, I think.
almost complete absence of requested expert input despite there being some available check accusations of mad scientistry check security nosing in check
[ His personal quarters, the usual and expected Tranquility bedroom layout, with some of his personal effects laid out here and there. The focal point is the black labrador mix, about six months old -- all gangly limbs and floppy ears and white teeth, rolled on his side and chewing on something its probably meant to be chewing on.
From Xavier, who is ostensibly holding the comms device while reclined on his bed, there's a sharp whistle. The dog looks up, item dropping from his mouth.
Then, with a scrape of blunt claws on the floor, he gets up in a rush to come nose enthusiastically at the comms device, heavy breathing staticky in the mic, a hand coming into view to simultaneously push the dog's head away and give a hearty scratch behind the ears. ]
[ Without verbal forewarning, Severus meanders over to Charles's office - waits a bit in the doorway, observing the palpable aura of passive aggressive ire as it warps to proper aggression.
He sets a tin down on the edge of Xavier's desk. Tea, his own make.
[ Charles backspaces and forwardspaces a lot more than he'd like to let on and so is in the midst of judging how much swearing he can get away with with his own professionalism intact by the time Severus steps into view. There's a flick of a glance towards the tin of tea.
No break in texting pace, nor is he any less genuinely annoyed at the conversation he's wrangling, but there's the indentation of a half-smile.
Following your conversation with our Mr Edgeworth, I took the initiative on Medical's behalf to make all relevant records available to Security at their discretion. I've further informed all patients involved of the decision and assured them that in the event their records are accessed, I will keep them informed.
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