#c:charles

[fantasyandthereal]

@angelxrp based on this

It had been a good game and Charles was still on an adrenaline high. So he wasn't exactly feeling the swelling on the right side of his face when he went to see the team's sport's medicine staff's assistant. He'd known Olivia for years now, so he'd learned to notice when she was upset with him, and she definitely was now.

"Okay, I'll bite. What's wrong? You're looking at me like this isn't just another standard scrap injury. I took a fist to the face. No big deal right? Happens all the time on the rink. Nothing you haven't seen before, so why are you acting so weird, Liv?"

[mistressxfmagnetism]

@psicnic​​

Lorna knew her way around Xavier’s like the back of her hand. The school in Westchester was always changing faces, with students arriving and leaving constantly, but the house stayed the same. And Charles stayed. He was a constant in her life for a long time now, not always a massive presence, but always there. Reliable. Lately, she hadn’t felt like she could rely on herself. These new powers were hard to control, when she wasn’t being possessed. Lorna had only realised afterwards how long Malice had been in her head before the blackout, because suddenly her new found control was gone again.

When Scott suggested the school, Lorna hadn’t wanted to admit that she felt self conscious about it. But he was right. Charles had experience helping people with powers they couldn’t control, powers that could hurt people. And her powers were psionic in nature. It only made sense.

Lorna knocked on Charles’ office door, hoping he wouldn’t be too busy to see her. That he’d actually be here, alone. She knew her father was around here somewhere, but this was something she wanted to discuss with Charles first.

[burnthesagc]

“you know, we could really just... miss the bus, don’t go back.” she mused out loud, overlooking the city. every time she was outside, in a different place that wasn’t either school or home she felt the same way. she remembered feeling the same way back in germany, and even though she would be way easier to find in d.c. the option is tempting, and since they had talked about it already not long ago, she felt it natural to just speak up about it again. || @chrlseatn​

[ginevrademedici]

Closed Starter for @charlestudor​

Location : The Winter Fair

Ginevra’s English was not the best. They could speak and understand it with relative ease, occasionally hiccoughing over a mispronunciation or mistranslation every now and again, but found it complex to read. It didn’t stop them trying though, holding the book in their hand, tilting their head from left to right in order to try and make sense of what was in front of them. 

The book was one they had picked up from a stall, decorated in shades of red and white. A sturdy thing, with the gold illustrating elaborate patterns. From what they had already deduced, it promised to be a good read, a tale of ghosts and fantastical creatures. They preferred stories a little more grounded in reality, of grisly deaths and unfolding mysteries, but this was still something that sparked their curiosity.  

Of course, there was no way they could actually enjoy the read if they were spending the whole time trying to figure out what the blasted thing said. Ginevra squinted their eyes at a particularly troubling word. If they were going to make it through the chapter, they would need help. “This word,” they thrusted the book toward the red-haired prince, jabbing their finger to the paper so he could see what they meant. “Wyvern?” They tested it tentatively, somehow knowing they had gotten the pronunciation wrong. “What is this? What does it mean?” They glanced up at him, a questioning look on their face. “English is a difficult language to read. It almost feels like whoever wrote this is just playing a trick on me.” 

[brendonurieox]

It’s all good, Sinatra gets me a little tongue tied too! / @melton​

[marcuscarson]

♟- our muses play cards/board games/wizarding chess together

“Just because I used to have the patience for this doesn’t mean I still do.” Marcus answered when Charles motioned to the chess table. “I’m sure you can find someone better to play too. My skills are a little rusty.”

@charles-villiers​

[aleighacoast]

@charlescoast​

Lee worked long hours, and when she wasn't at work, she was sleeping so that she could get ready to go in, and work. The cycle was long, and never ending, but she would truly not trade it for anything. Today was one of those rare days, a day where she was off for a full twenty-four hours. While most would use that time to sleep, Lee used it for something entirely different. Letting herself into her brother's place, she could immediately hear the sound of her niece sobbing through out. Entering into her brother's kitchen, "What are you doing to my poor baby?" She joked, as her eyes fell upon her older brother. "You didn't try to sing to her again, did you?" Her tone light, still teasing in manner.

[eizamercer]

@charlescoast​

From the moment she was capable of talking and walking, Eiza knew it was her against the world, with a addict for a mother, and a father who jetted the moment the stick turned pink, she found that she had to watch her own back. She was adapted to that way of life. Therefore, the fact that she found herself walking into the New Orleans’ police department, once in her life, actually needing something from them? Well, that was quite unfortunate for the brunette. She didn’t particularly like cops, and she had had her fair share of run ins with them growing up. But right now, she needed to file this, she needed this in ink, and maybe, just maybe, it could be the first real step to really getting rid of Andrew for good. Glancing around the department, the madness that followed seemed just about right. A young detective had came up to her, asking her just wanted she needed. Before she could finish explaining that she needed to file a complaint, and get a temporary restraining order, the young male’s attention went to an incoming phone call. “Coast. Can you take care of this,” He’d proceed to yell over his shoulder, just before he pushed passed her, then attending to his call. Eyes falling upon the all too familiar male, Eiza’s heart stopped, “Son of a bi--” She’d mumble under her breath, before clearing her throat, and replacing any discontent with her best large and warm smile. “Charles.” She greeted, “Long time.”