Closed RP Blog for Professor Charles Xavier for The Avengers Mansion RP Group. We have awesome powers, my X-Men. It is our birthright... And, perhaps, our burden. But, as Valerie Said, with that power comes responsibility -- and also accountability.
Charles let Logan assist him with his chair, as they made their way to a certain law office. He knew the feral mutant didn’t exactly approve of his current plans to deal with the SHRA. The Wolverine tended to prefer direct confrontation in order to settle conflict. While he could, and did, strategize to solve problems, Xavier’s current strategy involved several choices he highly disagreed with. He broadcasted his disapproval loud and clear through his slightly sullen manner as well as the increase in his protectiveness. Under other circumstances it would amuse him.
With all the conflict and emotions that raged around both sides of the Superhuman Registration Act, Charles decided to take a course that some may not consider. Obliging with the law, and then turning around the actions back on the government to defeat this kind of legislature in a way that would make people think twice of trying to recreate it. Part of this battle continued to be waged in the field of public opinion. Until that could be turned in their favor, the struggle would continue to seem futile.
One of the parts of his plans that had more than a small amount of challenge to it, finding a lawyer that would be willing to help. With the hot topic issue, finding any one wiling to defend any kind of enhanced seemed problematic. With the historical struggle of mutants to be treated fairly, that only compounded this issue. This is what led the Professor to seek out a particular law office located in the neighborhood called Hell’s Kitchen of New York City.
“You sure you want to go through with this Chuck?” Logan’s voice rumbled behind him as they approached the doors to the offices of Nelson & Murdock, attorneys at law. The question along with the faint air of suspicion didn’t make him falter. The burly mutant’s experience gave him plenty reasons believe a government would use individuals for their own means.
A small smile remained on his face as he replied calmly. “Yes I believe I do. Have a little faith my friend.”
Hank stared down at the board, listening to Charles discuss the students. They seemed to be unaffected by everything going on outside of the halls, and he feared that would change very soon. Xavier’s School was a safe haven for mutants, and the government was so close to knocking down their door and seizing everyone who refused to register themselves. Most of these kids had no family, or if they did it was a poor relationship. He wanted to protect them as much as he could, but he was growing tired.
He picked up one of his white pawns and moved it forward. For a moment, he thought about how Erik calls all of the lesser mutants ‘pawns’. Most of the Brotherhood was subject to his agenda, and he didn’t care if they lived or died. He wasn’t sure if any of the mutants following him cared either; they wanted revenge. He didn’t want the students to be pawns, asked to go out and fight against people stronger than they were and bring them to an ill-perceived justice.
“I’m glad they are doing fine,” Hank said aloud.
He kept staring at the board, waiting for Charles to make his move. Hank didn’t look up, but he continued speaking, “Things in Washington are progressing quickly. I’ve seen what’s been drafted of the bill so far. I wish I could have done more.”
Over the years Charles reached an greater appreciation and understanding of the game of chess. Often what looked like a wining strategy would be completely turned around in a couple of moves. While opening moves often shaped the game, they didn’t necessarily determine the outcome. What some forgot is that every piece, no matter how lowly some people may consider them, played a vital role. A pawn could change the entire game. People discounted them at their own peril.
“The students have all of us to look after them. Despite what they might get up to, we’ll make sure that they thrive.”
He watched Hank’s first move, and calculated potential moves from there. Infinite possibilities at the beginning. Only towards the end of play did your options narrow. The first moves the quickest, it did not take him overly long to make his.
“Yes, we have all been paying attention to the rather disquieting news. Though, history has often shown that those that rush in, often find thing to fall apart at the end,” he pointed out gently. “I have, and I hope I always will have, hope.”
Scott couldn’t stop the wince crossing his face as his shoulders raised into a slight hunch. It was a brief reaction only calmed by a study of the others body language as he continued to speak. Receiving praise wasn’t that uncommon but it always followed with darker repercussions … sometimes a backhand across the face or worse still someone else paying for his miswording or questionable attitude. It was how; Scott would eventually learn, Sinister and Jack Winters managed to turn the other adoptees against him, singling him out and ensuring he appeared to ruthless to be adopted.
Still, the older man’s voice held reassurance and stability. Never heightening and like his expression held an almost humorous tone as he spoke about the kitchen facilities. It was scary to see everyone showing such enthusiasm but their interactions were different too, it was obvious to the friendships that had been created and the playful banter. It was common knowledge that not everyone was to get along but they were still amicable about it.
Relaxing his posture, Scott tried to push away the anxiety still creeping up through his limbs. He was scared to admit that he had resorted to the ‘midnight snacking’ but mostly as a means of avoiding the other kids, he was aware he’d have to swallow his fears and soon enough join them in class but like everything he’d faced up to this point, everyone was still an unknown and their intentions were just as worry some.
“So it’s not against the rules?” there was a tremble in his voice as he eventually found the ability to speak again, being sure to keep it short and to the point, as not to give too much away about what he faced.
The wince may be evident, over the years Charles practiced the ability to not appear to notice things. Not so much as a flicker crossed his face as he continued to smile warmly at Scott. Projecting a calm front would establish that he felt confident in the situation. At the same time he stayed aware of the nuances of the other’s behavior.
Encouragement and positive reinforcement, otherwise give the young man support and time to trust. Repetition and consistency, the only way to prove that this space would always be safe. Home could be a fragile concept for those that lost it, or never truly experienced it. So he waited on Scott to respond.
“The only real rule about food is that its not to be kept in your rooms. Attracting ants is never fun for anyone to deal with.” His used his soft smile to continue to try and encourage. “That you have enough to eat is important to me. Part of the reason you are here are so you can grow and learn. It would be rather difficult to do that if you are hungry.”
Charles blinked and looked to the side as if considering something. “Plus it would make people ill tempered which is never enjoyable to deal with.” He looked back at Scott, offering the small smile again.
Professor Charles Xavier who has yet to issue any public statement on the Super-human Registration Act has finally broken his silence on this topic. Charles Xavier holds a PhD in Genetics, Biophysics, and Psychology. He is well known for fighting for mutant rights. This has led to some experts to speculate on the Professor's position. All speculation has been laid to rest by a video statement issued earlier today.
The following has been transcribed from his video.
“Friends, in this time of turmoil, I am greatly concerned by the atmosphere of anger and fear when we should be seeking out peace and understanding. What is even more alarming is the actions of the Government have contributed to the growing hostile environment against people whose only crime is being born, or being in an accident.
Attacks on mutants, or individuals believed to be mutants or enhanced has risen drastically since the announcement of the Super-human Registration Act. While yes, some escalation occurred after the accident in New York City, a much more marked increase occurred marking the passing of the Act. A fifteen year old boy in Oklahoma was severely injured in an attack, his only crime was the fact his skin changed colors and they thought he must be a mutant. In fact the cause was due to a medical condition.
A group of protesters outside a center known to be welcoming to both mutant and non-mutant alike in Iowa turned violent. They caused thousands of dollars in property damage not just to the center, but to the surrounding businesses. Many were hurt, three so severely they needed to be treated in the Intensive Care Units at their local hospital. These incidents and many more have spread up across the country against individuals who have done nothing to warrant such violence against them. Instead of calming the public, this act has only served as justification for those that indulge in hate. It has given them an excuse to enact on their bigotry against people that are merely different.
The terms of the Act itself are serious cause for alarm for a number of reasons. It makes criminals out of children, or their parents. When a child develops the unexpected it is a difficult and stressful situation for them. It can be a difficult thing to admit to yourself, let alone anyone else. We all want to be accepted, and for those that are different, acceptance is often hard-won. So this Act makes a child even more afraid to come to their parents with this information. For fear or being targeted, or used.
This brings me to one of the most disturbing provisions of the Super-human Registration Act, the forcing of individuals with abilities to fight, even if they do not wish to. They may be drafted to apprehend others that are enhanced, and if they refuse, they will be arrested. I find this to be extremely disquieting, for what is to prevent someone from saying the military needs a unit capable of apprehending the enhanced? They could look at this registration; find people with abilities they feel they can weaponized. Such individuals would not be given the right to refuse.
I also question where this might lead us to? We start with this, is it the beginning of mandated genetic testing? If something unusual is found will they then be forced to face testing? Would people with greater natural capabilities be persecuted even though they aren’t technically enhanced? All in the name of the greater good of course, but is it really?
As for the provision of reveal of identity for the pursuit of civil suits, I find this as simple window dressing to appease people without actually providing any help. Most of those that choose to fight are not paid to do so. The majority have little funds of their own. So a civil suit would be extremely unlikely to grant a plaintiff any financial gain. What would be far more effective would be to take the royalties and copyrights for those active individuals and put them into a fund. That fund can be applied to for assistance, and the money would go to where it can do the most good. It could even provide incentive for said individuals to attempt to keep damage to a minimum. Simply by using money remaining after proven claims are paid could be used to support them.
While a call for responsibility is a good thing, it cannot be done by taking away the rights of those who never chose to fight. These same people suffer from the atmosphere of fear and anger this Act has fostered. This is something we all must face. The increase of mutants and enhanced individuals means that one day they will be coming for your neighbors, for your friends, and yes even your children.
If this Act is allowed to stand, the time will come when no one will be there to stand between humanity and threats greater than the unenhanced can handle alone. We will have driven them underground, made criminals out of them, put them into jails, or possibly even caused their deaths from the growing violence against them.
Since responsibility seems to be the greatest of concerns, I will ask for the government to be responsible for the implications of the Act they have created. I intend to pursue a civil case against the Government for violations of civil rights, inciting riots, inciting hate crimes, and dereliction of their duties to protect all of the people that live in the United States. I do not seek out money, merely that the act be struck down for what it is, unconstitutional. I ask for a more open dialog and council formed of various enhanced and nonenhanced a like to address the issues of responsibility of those that choose to fight in a manner that does not put them or everyone at risk. Above all that this is done to move towards greater understanding, not fear and violence.
I invite others to stand with me, to help me work out a compromise that builds peace and friendship. For this is not just my issue. This is something that affects us all.”
Watching the other man manoeuvre, with ease, around furniture standing strong as an obstacle, for a moment, seemed the most interesting and fluent thing he’d witnessed in some time. There were still things to adjust to such as the newest term bestowed upon him - ‘Mutant’. The word alone carried names head been described as in the past including idle threats that were often followed by an outnumbered, out skilled beating.
The reassuring tone from not only the professor but others around him was taking some time to accustom to almost to the point where he struggled to answer the older man’s curiosities … favourite spot? His room quickly became his sanctuary, hidden beneath the soft coverings clinging tightly to the soft cushions that in his mind’s eye were strong enough to fight away the darkness.
Nodding in response to the highlighted ‘disadvnatages?’ Scott parted his lips to add comment “I … erm –” Looking up he attempted meeting the other man’s gaze instead he took in the gentle nature of his features accompanying the words that were meant to offer him reassurance. “There is a tree at the bottom of the garden … near the lake? it’s bigger than the rest, it’s mostly quiet down there … kinda peaceful especially after facing the breakfast crowd.”
There fell a slight ease in his words as he spoke allowing space for more enthusiasm as edged towards speaking of a well-known ‘every man for himself moment’. There was always enough food for everyone, though it seemed that with a certain few, their bodies had been given the assumption their throats had been cut during the night leading to what could only be explained as an intense hunger.
Any positive response something he watched for and encouraged. Some of the children that came to the school rarely had anything like that in their lives. That made it an uphill battle to gain their trust. One of the ways to start, to encourage them and built them up whenever possible. So that Scott answered a step in the right direction.
“An excellent choice. One of my favorites as well. I often played there as a boy.” He settled back a bit more in his chair, fully relaxed. “I do believe that is one of the trees that my grandfather planted.” His family history at his fingertips, easy to remember that fact. Still he tried to keep the air light and casual for Scott.
“Ah yes, the rush for food.” A small chuckle escaped the Professor. “Even with the kitchen being stocked for midnight snacks there are some that need a lot of fuel. They descend on mealtime with a great deal of, enthusiasm.” Grocery deliveries often a daily occurrence with the amount of food consumed. He made sure they never lacked for fresh fruit and vegetables, keeping the junk food there, but to a minimum.
“Its easier to eat what someone else made, but there is always something available.” Humor twinkled in his eyes. “I’m not so old that I have forgotten midnight raids on the kitchen. Or perhaps having the students around just helps me remember those days. Giving free access means they don’t try keeping it in their rooms. Which would attract a bit of a mess.”
The school - mansion, whatever you wanted to call it was unquestionably huge and proved even more so as on several attempts Scott had found himself wondering down unfamiliar hallways in search or the kitchen or even the bathroom. After each attempt, he’d backtrack to his room which quickly served as a comfort zone, somewhere only he and his thoughts were allowed and others could only enter with his consent.
The young teenager lacked all confidence and severally struggled with social situations, even with the older man who was now looked upon as a saviour. For now. There was still that recurring pattern of others gaining his trust, only to then using him to carry out their biddings. Briefly looking up from his feet Scott watched as the gap closed between him and the professor, yet even with the comforting tone of his voice, the youngster felt his chest tighten as his breath caught.
“Come in Scott, that door is always open to you. How are you settling in?”
Taking a moment to take in the heightened ceilings and full-length windows, the boy’s focus dropped back to his newly received shoes, the clothes he wore too were an added gift upon his initial arrival. He offered a slight nod before taking a few steps further into the room, closing the gap ever further. “Fine, I guess professor.” Breathing outwards Scott flicked his glance upwards, his chin still firmly buried within his chest. “This place is larger than what I’m used too.”
“Not that surprising, I found it quite large growing up.” Charles moved his chair out from around his desk, towards the young mutant. He didn’t want to crowd Scott, but he did want him to feel more comfortable. No need to be a mind reader to see discomfort. Not pressing, just assessing what he needed to help with.
“It feels much smaller now that there are students running around. Instead of empty rooms, I find myself surrounded by life.” He kept his voice light and gentle, hoping to relax Scott a bit. “Still it can be a bit confusing if everyone is rushing about.”
He steered his wheelchair to turn towards one of the windows. “Probably why the grounds can be a relaxing place. When I was young it meant I wasn’t surrounded by furniture and things I wasn’t supposed to damage. Now there is also space so even if there are people about, you don’t feel closed in.”
Charles turned back towards Scott, the small smile still in place. “Tell me, have you found a favorite spot yet?”
Hank had been stressed from all the SRA nonsense. He could feel himself getting so exhausted any time it crossed through his mind. After spending the better part of two months living in a hotel in DC, he was finally back home at the mansion. Walking through the halls was so strange. Soon enough, the kids may hate him for forcing them into the spotlight. Some of their parents may even have no quarrels about outing them to the police. This was a mess already, but they were protected for now.
As much as he supported the bill, he hated how it was all worded. He didn’t write it - he wasn’t allowed to write it. That in itself was frustrating. This was as much a mutant affair as public safety. He had to stand by it. If he resisted now, when so far he had been publicly vocal about his support, would make things worse. He had to ride it out, and when revisions were taking place, he would definitely need to work harder on making sure everyones voice was heard - not just the scared humans.
Usually talking with Charles helped ease his mind. He must have known he was coming because the chess board was already set-up when he walked into the room. The game was relaxing, and playing against Charles was always a challenge. He never knew when he might look inside his mind to see what Hank’s next move would be.
“Ready as ever,” He flashed a smile before sitting down across from the Professor. “How have you been?”
While he tried not to delve into minds without good cause, the press of them around him made it difficult to ignore certain things. Thoughts could be difficult burdens for anyone, and easy to pick up that things weighed heavily on his friend. Actively following the process that affected so many made it easy to guess just what caused it.
Patience and a calm center would be the keys here to sooth them both along. The game first, anything else along the way. Hank might need a bit of a rest, he would need friendship, that is something Charles could assist with. Nurturing others a reflexive action, especially after so many years of running the school.
“Well, the students have been entertaining as usual. We seem to have picked up a couple of practical jokers.” He smiled, the lines around the corners of his mouth crinkling. The students both his joy and his worry. When they were comfortable enough to prank others, well that reaffirmed that he did create a sanctuary for them.
He let Hank have the white, so the first move would be up to his friend. Most considered that an advantage. Charles liked to see how people moved, and then act counter to it. Yes he did take the imitative at times, because that could shape things to come. This time though, he needed to react, not act.
Where did you start with a child like Scott summers? Up until the age five, his life had been nothing short of perfect. Loving parents and a little brother looking up to him with such devotion. It gave him that small feeling of responsibility as he helped out with smaller tasks and acted as only a bigger brother could. Until the unfortunate day came, where his life was more than literally turned upside down.
Sustaining a blow to the head Scott had found himself in a hospital suffering from traumatic amnesia following an incident regarding the plane he and his family were returning in. One night, Scott woke up his powers having manifested and destroyed the roof of the hospital with his optic blast. When Scott woke up again, a year had passed. Upon recovering, Scott was placed in the State Home for Foundlings, an orphanage in Omaha, Nebraska.
His life continued to nose dive from there as he was left in darkness, his eyes continually covered with bandages and subjected to batteries of tests and experiments by the orphanage’s owner, Mr Milbury, an alias for Mr Sinister. The bullying from the surrounding others made the world a lonelier place.
Scott had learned to tune in with his senses while more than occasionally battling with the added pain of the cluster headaches, another downfall to his ability or nightmare, depending on who you asked. On many occasions, he had reached the final stages of being adopted, only to feel the familiarising pain of reject as each offer seemed to fall through. As he got older he felt his chances lessening as who wanted an older child who could barely look after himself?
–
So what made this Charles Xavier different? He’d saved him for one, offered him a home … and even when Scott continued to shy away from him he offered in a caring voice the reassurance he’d seen so neglected of.
A boy of 14 but still very much a child Summers stood in the doorway of the mansion awaiting an invitation or at the very least a reason to run and hide.
All too many mutants ended up with rough childhoods. Through early awakening of their abilities, or tragic happenstance. Some, the lucky few would be raised in loving homes and come under his care by parents that wanted the best for them. One theory could be the sudden development of gifts could be triggered by trauma. The body reacting in a flight or fight response.
So where did this young man fit, this Scott Summers. Lost a loving family, in an accident, the powers triggered couldn’t have saved him from that. It could protect him from other things, once properly trained and contained. Instead it isolated the young boy, and kept him alienated from those around him. Driven into more difficulty because of his gifts.
Now, Charles could give Scott a chance at a new life. Coming from the young man’s position, it may be difficult to trust that things would be better, and stay that way. Even without picking up anything mentally, something very easy to deduce. Such a fragile thing trust could be, difficult to grow, yet he would do his best to nurture it.
“Come in Scott, that door is always open to you.” He offered the boy a small smile as he moved his chair towards the young mutant. “How are you settling in?” Cultivating a relationship where Scott could trust the Professor to be there for him, as a mentor or friend, he would try to build carefully.
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