Fic; A Brief Glimpse into the Current Life of Charles Xavier, oceanpunk 'verse
Title A Brief Glimpse into the Current Life of Charles Xavier
Rating PG for now
Summary Continuation of Oceanpunk 'verse.
Disclaimer Will never own, boo.
Charles opened his eyes. He wondered if it was Thursday yet. From the hum of restless energy emanating from the guards, he guessed that it was. They would be able to go home soon, to leave for the weekend to be replaced by the other half of the force, home to their families and houses or islands or whatever it was that they left for, that they held this position in order to maintain, while Charles would be left staring at the same grey wall of his cell, wondering when the General would grant him an hour of recreation.
Is it Thursday yet, he thought to Emma, who, like always, sat just outside the door of his cell, the most beautiful watch dog, and the only person in the General’s command who could keep Charles’ magic under control. And that was only because they were similar in magic manifestation, both with the ability to hear and push thoughts into other people’s minds, to manipulate with false memories or to wipe out memories all together. They were a rare breed, and a dangerous one, and one that the General liked to call Thinking Mages because the word telepath was too strong and real. Under his right collarbone Charles had a tattoo of the symbol for infinity surrounded by the regulation circlet with identification number. He found it ironic that his magic had been what had ultimately helped the United Islands capture Shaw, and once they found that out, they deemed Charles an even bigger threat. In reality he was much more powerful than Emma was, but he suspected that they were putting something in his food that made him less focused, more tired.
Yes, Emma thought back to him, and that was all. Charles still hadn’t figured her out quite yet. As a magic-user herself, how could she operate willingly under the General’s command? He had spent months trying to delve into the crevasses of her thoughts, but they were sealed tight, like a fortress made of diamonds, and he could never break through.
He lay on his mattress, scanning the minds of the other prisoners, or at least the weak imprints that filtered through Emma’s glacial barrier - there were thieves and murderers, social outcasts and willing participants, all of them magic-users of some kind.
He closed his eyes and thought of Erik, wondered if he was still looking for him.
-end.
Rating PG for now
Summary Continuation of Oceanpunk 'verse.
Disclaimer Will never own, boo.
Charles opened his eyes. He wondered if it was Thursday yet. From the hum of restless energy emanating from the guards, he guessed that it was. They would be able to go home soon, to leave for the weekend to be replaced by the other half of the force, home to their families and houses or islands or whatever it was that they left for, that they held this position in order to maintain, while Charles would be left staring at the same grey wall of his cell, wondering when the General would grant him an hour of recreation.
Is it Thursday yet, he thought to Emma, who, like always, sat just outside the door of his cell, the most beautiful watch dog, and the only person in the General’s command who could keep Charles’ magic under control. And that was only because they were similar in magic manifestation, both with the ability to hear and push thoughts into other people’s minds, to manipulate with false memories or to wipe out memories all together. They were a rare breed, and a dangerous one, and one that the General liked to call Thinking Mages because the word telepath was too strong and real. Under his right collarbone Charles had a tattoo of the symbol for infinity surrounded by the regulation circlet with identification number. He found it ironic that his magic had been what had ultimately helped the United Islands capture Shaw, and once they found that out, they deemed Charles an even bigger threat. In reality he was much more powerful than Emma was, but he suspected that they were putting something in his food that made him less focused, more tired.
Yes, Emma thought back to him, and that was all. Charles still hadn’t figured her out quite yet. As a magic-user herself, how could she operate willingly under the General’s command? He had spent months trying to delve into the crevasses of her thoughts, but they were sealed tight, like a fortress made of diamonds, and he could never break through.
He lay on his mattress, scanning the minds of the other prisoners, or at least the weak imprints that filtered through Emma’s glacial barrier - there were thieves and murderers, social outcasts and willing participants, all of them magic-users of some kind.
He closed his eyes and thought of Erik, wondered if he was still looking for him.
-end.