maskormenacelogs | (no subject)

[Gregor isn't nervous, or so he tells himself. But he admits to some uncertainty, a low thrum underneath his thoughts that Miles can probably feel humming along at the edge of his consciousness.

It's not about someone else finding out about who he is. Gregor always feels like the Emperor, anyway-- pretending to be Greg is like a child's guilty play-acting to him, pure wish fulfillment. This is who he really is, and having someone else see that is just normal. He's always on display. He is a little wary about how Miles will take it, granted, but he's never tried to police Miles's opinions or reactions and he's not about to start.

No. His nerves are purely from having someone else go into his head. Someone not Miles, and probably far deeper than Miles. Charles seems like a compassionate, courteous person, which is about all that's getting Gregor through the door.

Nonetheless he looks quite grim as he stares at Charles's front door in Nonah, a couple days after the mess with Pan had ended. He looks down at Miles.]

Once more into the breach?

Edited 2016-01-06 18:24 (UTC)

[ Miles is nervous too - a different tone, distinct from but harmonizing with Gregor's. They risk their cover, doing this. They risk their sanity - if something goes disastrously wrong, then who knows what could happen to the both of them? Miles hardly wants Gregor hurt, but he is keenly reminded of how very much he depends on his own wits. Without them he is very little.

Speaking of which - there's another thread of worry he's picking at, idly. Charles is the first one who's going to meet him after being introduced on the network. Surely he's going to cut a rather disappointing figure - or at minimum one that's going to raise questions. Mutant, was the word Charles had used. Miles isn't sure he's ready to discuss that topic already. Perhaps he won't have to... ]

We came all this way, didn't we?

[ Worried or not, there's no way in hell he'd backing down. ]

[It's true that they're putting a tremendous amount of trust in Charles just by inviting him in, mentally. Neither of them have the first clue how something like this works. Yet they can't leave this resource untapped; as Miles had said when he'd brought it up, what if they have the potential to hurt each other? What if someone else arrives, another Barrayaran, that Gregor doesn't want in his head at all, full stop? He'll need to know how to block them out, rather than this fluid back-and-forth ebbing he does with Miles.]

And we really shouldn't be flying blind if we don't have to.

[Gregor can feel Miles's implacable unwillingness to renege, and his own resolve firms. They can manage this. He reaches up to knock on the door at last, a punctilious rap.]

[ The house they approached was fairly plain looking, neatly kept out front but nothing extravagant. No particularly clever or ornate landscaping, just a wide walk way that lead up towards a one story house. The landscaping, while nice enough, wouldn't require extensive upkeep. There was a lack of grass, mulch, pavers and pretty bushes instead of grass, flowers or gravel.

However, if anyone was paying close attention, there were subtle clues. There were no steps, the door handle was set just a few inches lower (Miles might find this accommodating) than normal. As was the door bell. The mail basket (whether for function or just for show) was at waist height on a standing person. The door ways were slightly wider than normal and there was a ramp like quality to the doorjamb.

Nothing overt, just little things.

Though he was aware of their approach, Charles would wait until they either knocked or rang before he'd call out. ]

Coming!

[ There would be a few sounds, on the other side of the door. A thump, a genteel curse, a squeak of rubber on hardwood, another thump and finally the door would inch it's way open. Someone was still getting a handle on negotiating the chair with one hand, while tugging a door open with the other but he managed with only the one curse to show for it.

And there he was, not very scary at all. A small man, even when he could walk, he was lightly built, seated he was nearly a foot shorter than Miles. Behind him lay a house that, like the walk up, was obviously designed for a handicapped occupant, with low counters, low fixtures and wide open pathways for the chair.

It was still a bit on the spartan side but the scents of tea and warming food filled the small area, hopefully in an inviting manner.

Charles smiled, once he was done fussing at the door and wrestled his chair back to make way. ]

Hello, gentlemen. I'm so glad you could make it, please won't you come in?

[It's probably stupid to be relieved to see someone in a wheelchair-- at the very least it's selfish-- but Gregor isn't unaware that this is Miles's first time meeting someone from the network, and he's glad this is a mutual reveal. They can very mutually not comment on it. (Or at least he intends not to.)

He steps inside gratefully, the very edge of the tension sloughing off. The interior is a welcome relief after the chaotic mess of their house, only partly cleaned still. Instinctively he speaks first to smooth over any potential awkwardness from their respective silent revelations.]

Thank you, Charles. I hope we haven't put you out too much. I know you haven't been here any longer than we have, [he says wryly, moving to shut the door for them once Miles has followed him in.

They make an interesting pair beside each other, Gregor over a foot taller than Miles, tall, lean, and dark. He has a certain quiet reserve to him that communicates much better in person-- he is absolutely composed, while Miles beside him is practically a coil of contained energy, a larger-than-life presence. They look very much like a pair of bookends mixed up from completely different sets.]

[ Miles' eyes track up for a moment - and then, abruptly, back down. Huh. So that's how it feels when other people see him come into a room. It's quite novel to be looking down at someone for once. Quite frankly, it sets himself at ease; if Miles is revealing himself by showing up in person, well, so is Charles. He opens his mouth to comment - hesitates - thinks better of it. Miles doesn't always appreciate having his own differences pointed out, and he'd rather not start that conversation.

He takes a moment to rove about the room, hands on his hips, half curious and half investigative. Not that he expects traps at this point in the game, but being the only member of ImpSec anywhere close to his Emperor, well ... he can at least give the place a once over. And if it drifts him towards the refreshments, all the better. He's dressed in much more casual clothes, jeans and silver-gray shirt, with a slightly large hoodie over all of it. And - larger-than-life, indeed. As opposed to Gregor's inward composure, Miles seems determined to take up absolutely every inch of space allotted to him and then some. The energy is such that his own difficulties - crooked spine, surgery scars, metal leg braces - aren't always immediately obvious.

If Charles is listening in, he'll find Miles' mind an equally manic whirl of motion. Riding high above an abyss. His earlier nervousness has settled somewhat in the face of having something to do. Which is to figure out how big of a mistake they've just made, if they have in fact done just that. ]

You seem to have less to do to fix the place up, at least. Ours was a terror.

[ Still is, until Tucker comes and unseals the sticky door on the first floor. ]

[ Charles is much more along the lines of Greg's thought process, in the mutual decision not to comment on the reveals. Though to him, Miles' appearance isn't quite as remarkable as perhaps it would be back in Miles' world.

After all, mutants came in all shapes and sizes and horror came in all packages. Take Trask for instance.

That didn't mean the telepath wasn't quietly observing the pair as they entered his home. It would be a lie to say he wasn't at least maintaining a subtle awareness of strong surface thoughts. Not a focused reading, nothing specific but he wasn't exerting himself to block them out either.

Of course, even if he didn't have his powers, the two had very distinct body language and Miles' restlessness was rather telling. For now, Charles countered it by letting it go without remark and going about his own business in a low key, calm fashion. ]

It was no trouble at all, Greg. In fact, you've put me on to an absolutely lovely little restaurant run by a delightful couple. I hope you like roast chicken? They insisted it was their specialty and that we had to try to green beans as well.

[ It was a light sort of pattering, open volley of polite small talk while they got used to one another presence.

Charles had given Greg a grateful look when the man dealt with the door, before starting to roll himself towards the kitchen. ]

I'm afraid I've only picked up an English Breakfast tea, I hope that's agreeable?

[ He didn't have anything of an alcoholic nature. Maybe ... later. Pulling back on a wheel, he made to execute a partial turn, in order to answer Miles but had misjudged his distance and smacked his feet into a counter. There was no physical reaction of pain, just a grunt of annoyance as he shifted himself around, covering the mistake. A small thing but perhaps an indication that he was not used to being in the chair.

Attention focused back on his guests, he gave a small chuckle. ]

I'll be perfectly honest and say I'm glad I don't have a lot of work to do. The past few days were exciting enough without having to try to sort out how to vacuum like this.

[ He motioned to himself in the chair. ]

That all sounds fine, [he assures him, with the unthinking air of someone who gets asked to approve a hundred pointless things every time he goes anywhere. (Sire, is this suitable? Sire, would you like something different? No, Gregor is fine, he doesn't mind, it's all acceptable.)

Growing up with Miles has led Gregor to formulate a few rules about life with someone who is disabled and determined not to be, regardless of reality. One is don't draw direct attention to it if they don't; two is don't offer to help unless they seem receptive to it; three is don't pretend it doesn't exist, either, because you don't need to rewrite reality for them. You can't.

He does notice him banging into the counter and wonders if the injury isn't new.] Honestly, I have no idea either, [he admits.] All the equivalent devices we have hover-- both the chair and the vacuum. This is all very... analog.

[ Keen even under normal circumstances, Miles has a hometown advantage on this one. He knows very well the difference between an old but difficult disability ... and something new and awkward. Obviously new, he thinks; it reminds him of himself after one of his many surgeries as a child. While he doesn't move to help directly, he makes some quick spacial calculations and sits down in a chair, being sure to tug it to a safe, navigable distance behind him. He leans around the side of it so that he's still turned towards the conversation. ]

Exceptionally so. Not that we would know how to use one regardless, eh?

[ A gentle teasing jab at Gregor over his link. ]

Tea and chicken sounds quite phenomenal. Greg and I have only really had pasta thus far.

[ Another gentle nudge. Affectionate, absolutely. Miles had burnt the eggs so badly that morning that the fire alarm had gone off, so as far as he's concerned pasta is the better track record. ]

[ Miles. First rule of telepathy, be careful about using it around other telepaths. Charles wasn't actively listening, in fact he was doing his best not to listen but a spike of telepathic activity was like a tap on the shoulder, hard to completely ignore.

He cleared his throat and deliberately shielded after the sense of good natured teasing streaked by, so he was able to ignore the second nudge entirely. Covering the brief hiccup with the familiar act of getting mugs out of the lower cabinets, Charles decided to start with the tea. ]

I've been subsisting on tea and take out since I arrived. Cooking was never one of my skills. [ He'd just always had people who did it for him or ... lived on take out. ] So you're both one up on me with even attempting pasta.

[ After a little consideration, Charles dug a sheet pan out of another cabinet. It would do for a make shift tray. Loading the mugs atop it, he set a tea bag in each and then added hot water. While the mugs started to steep, he added milk and sugar to the tray, then pulled it down to sit on his lap.

Okay, have to be careful not to run into stuff now. Head down, Charles began to navigate from the kitchen to where Miles had seated himself. ]

Did you two keep track of the recent events? [ He asked, tackling one of the obvious elephants in the room. The less ... personal one. ]

[The difficulty with suddenly getting telepathy with someone you've known your whole life is that you have so little incentive to shut it off. Gregor and Miles have learned already how to retain a certain distance between themselves mentally, but past that they're near-constantly carelessly letting things slip to one another, like passing notes under the table.

And Gregor really doesn't have any idea how telepathy works, so he's not aware if Charles hears any of it, though it'd only be logical. Maybe it's like radiowaves? In any case, he reflects back Miles's teasing to him without changing his expression of polite attentiveness at all.

He watches Charles go through all the complicated extra motions that making tea from his position entails, but since he seems to have it in hand, goes without offering to help.]

I stayed well out of the way, [Gregor answers, internally with a faint sense of disappointment he can't help but feel.] A familiar state of affairs for me, I assure you. But Miles was helping directly.

[ No incentive, and no real awareness of anything telepathic except their link. He's assuming it's at least like a tightbeam transmission, noticeable but encrypted. And since they're here for the telepathy, he doesn't mind if Charles know they're using it. Just perhaps not the content. He catches the reflection and settles on a pleasant humming cheer. Downright relaxed in the face of this otherwise tense situation.

In any case, not knowing that Charles know means that Miles has no reaction to the shielding. He gladly sits up when Charles returns with the tray, reaching out for one of the mugs. Only milk for him, no sugar. Another glance down at Charles' wheelchair, just to be aware of it - like Gregor, not offering help unless requested. ]

As directly as I could. I have a particular kind of teleportation - ferried people in and out as much as I could. The jungle would have been entirely too much, though.

[ Well. He'd have gone if he could. But not with Gregor on the other end of the line. ]

Did you? [ Charles responded to Greg's comment about Miles' involvement a moment before Miles gave further explanation.

As he listened, he set out the mugs of tea and lay the tray on the table. He'd get their dinner out presently, it was keeping warm and certainly they could enjoy the tea first? ]

Teleportation? That can be a very useful power indeed. I knew a teleporter, well knew of one, well actually dealt with him as an enemy to be precise. [ He sounds, almost melancholy about that. Azazel had been his enemy and had killed a number of humans but he hadn't deserved to end up experimented on and dissected like a rat. ] He was very clever in the use of his abilities.

[ Taking a sip of tea, perhaps to wash the bitter taste of memories of Trask out of his mouth, Charles glanced to Greg and gave him a wry smile. ]

Likewise, I stayed out of the way, though I did check on a couple of young friend's and a school with my name.

[Gregor accepts his tea and blows on it to cool, then takes a tentative sip, testing for temperature. Encouraged, he takes a more normal swallow. Ordinarily he doesn't drink that much tea, but he has nothing against it.

He decides to let Miles deal with how much he ways to say on the matter of drawbacks to his teleportation. It seems they're obliquely coming to the matter at hand, which is fast enough for Gregor, really.]

Your school's here? [He looks briefly speculative, then says,] Ah. You mean there was another of you here before. I'd heard about that.

[ An enemy, eh ... Charles doesn't seem alarmed, at least, so Miles presses on. ]

It's a power that rewards cleverness, I suppose. [ A beat. ] Mine, er ... has certain limitations. I appear to go through the water supply system.

That would appear to be the case. [ Charles confirmed Greg's assumption. ] I have yet to actually visit the place or meet with it's current caretakers. Hopefully, once the situation in Heropa is managed, I'll be able to make the trip down there.

[ Unspoken was the acceptance that right now, such a visit would be unwise.

His attention swung back to Miles as the man explained more about his ability. ]

You go through the water supply system? You mean you have to be in proximity to water or what?

[Gregor merely nods, not wanting to divert the conversation too much. It is interesting, though, and he wonders how Charles feels about finding that his school has been reopened without him, standing here all this time. Gregor has no way to even approach empathizing with that sort of problem.

One of the things Gregor likes best about hanging around with Miles while talking to others is that he so naturally absorbs all of the attention, leaving Gregor to quietly sip his tea and not interfere. It's really his preferred state of affairs.]

Within about ten feet, give or take. Much easier if I have an available faucet or otherwise open access, but I believe I could manage it even if it's just a pipe under my feet.

[ In other words, he hasn't tried yet, and isn't sure he wants to. He glances over at Gregor - feels a bit bad for having stolen the direction of the conversation, apparently - but continues. ]

Do you ... er ... have experience with coaching people on their abilities? Your mutants?

[ To be honest, Charles was still trying to work out how Charles felt about the whole thing. In the end, it would come down to one key factor; were the students the priority.

So long as the answer was yes, the rest would work itself out.

For the moment, he listened to Miles but also glanced over to Greg, studying how the other man reacted to his friend's words. Greg might be taking a more reserved stance in the conversation but that didn't mean Charles couldn't listen to him. Not in the telepathic sense, he'd tightened up his own shields for the time being, but just body language.

In response to Miles' question, Charles' lips twitched and he nodded. ]

Quite a bit actually, it's why I'm known as 'Professor'. Well my sister gave me the code name 'Professor X' but most people just shorten it to Professor. [ He explained, sipping his tea and setting it down before sitting back in his chair. ]

I hold a doctorate in genetics, so I can claim the title of 'Professor of Genetics' but I've never taught that subject.

When Erik and I began to search out other mutants, most of the people we found had been alone, with their mutation all their lives. Some had found ways to live with it, others were completely out of control and needed help to learn how to take their lives back.

[ Talking about the beginning, before everything went so wrong, brought back bittersweet memories but still, Charles had to smile. ]

The mutations we encountered were, amazing; widely varied and fascinating. It was rewarding, to help them understand their gifts and see how brilliant they could be.

[ Inwardly, he felt the pinch of the situation with Raven and making her hide. But that was a personal situation and one he wasn't going to delve into at the moment. It had been a mistake, on his part and one he needed to learn to live with. ]

[Without telepathy as an added advantage, Gregor is quite hard to read. He's very much in his public persona right now-- alone with Miles, or someone else he trusted if that existed here, he's casual, even careless. At the moment he's the epitome of composure and attentive listening, posture upright without being stiff, elbows pulled in close. He is genuinely very interested, not least because he can see how this is going to tie into their own lessons.]

Your genetics must serve you well. I can see how they'd match. [Since it seems perfectly logical to him, from a hard sci fi universe, that mutations must be genetically originated and have some scientific explanation behind them.]

It sounds like you brought a lot of good into their lives, [Gregor says quietly, hands curled around his mug.] I admit it's encouraging to hear you have so much experience leading others through their newfound abilities. I was considerably lucky to have stumbled across you.

[Maybe not entirely luck, given the sensitivity of even a drastically limited telepath to another, but it feels that way.]

[ Miles, meanwhile, sharpens instantly at the mention of mutants taking their lives back from their mutations. Hasn't that been his whole life? Even with it being a teratogenic defect and not a genetic one ...

He swallows, a bit, and buries the flinch of remembered discomfort past the reach of their link. ]

How do we begin, then? If - er - [ He looks around at the tea and the waiting chicken, unsure if he's barreling ahead too fast as per usual. ]

[ A lot of good into their lives.

Yes, well wasn't that the rub. There had been some good, Charles had to believe that but there had also been a cacophony of very bad as well.

It made it difficult to completely accept Greg's words. Memories that were a little hard to swallow at the moment and so he covered the discomfort by wheeling himself towards the kitchen, intending to get the chicken put to the table. ]

How do we begin, what? The consultation? [ He asked, the last bit aimed more at Greg but obviously including Miles as well. ]

[A complicated topic, clearly. Gregor is sad if not surprised to see evidence of that. He lets the conversation drift naturally to what they'd come here for.]

Effectively, yes. We're at a complete loss. [Gregor shows him an open palm, unashamed of his ignorance.] We've figured out a couple things, but we've mainly been getting on with, well, with knowing each other well enough that we aren't too fussed when we mess up.

That's obviously not going to make do forever.

[ Miles makes a mental note to tread lightly, or at least corner the man later, when it's not the two of them at once. He assumes the pair of them can be rather overwhelming, with Miles' dizzying heights and Gregor's dark depths.

He nods for now, agreeing with his Emperor. ]

With my bone issues, for one - I'd like very much not to hurt him every time something goes wrong. [ Miles' top priority in all this. ] And if someone else ends up on the link we ought to know how to screen them.

[ Once again, Charles utilized the tray to help him move food. Plates and utensils had already been set out so it was just a question of getting the actually dinner down.

He'd managed to keep things warm, without burning them. Progress!

Especially as he was more focused on Greg and Miles, than on the food itself. ]

So you want help with your telepathic connection? [ He asked, just to clarify, since they'd been discussing Miles' other power as well. ] Shielding, specifically?

CHARLES & MILES.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

Let me know if you guys need me to edit any of this

nah s'all good! do as you will /waggles fingers

it's perfect, I love it

\o/

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject