(Out of) Practice || Open
Charles had never fancied himself a psychologist. He was a teacher, a professor. And yet, each and every day that went by reminded him why this profession was of such importance within Hive City. The experiment many of them had been drawn into wreaked havoc upon the mind and, consequentially, the body as well. It did not take long for sickness of the mind to spread, after all, resulting in unexplained tensions Charles could only attribute to stress.
Their whole lives seemed to drown in it, every aspect of this experiment one more unsettling factor on top of another. The ordinance, the lack of stability, the hierarchy of the scientists reigning over their ‘subjects’… If ever there was a more suitable breeding ground for mental illness and complexes, this was it. And so, it was by this method that Charles’ establishment had come to support itself quite well, the office he chose to rent out serving as a safe haven for many a citizen of the Hive.
The job kept him busy, certainly, enough so even to have put out an advertisement for assistance in the form of a secretary, Simple though the required tasks were, he was in much need of one, as the professor once more found himself looking up from his paperwork, his keen mind detecting a figure beyond the door before him, no doubt making their way through the empty waiting room.
Silently, he placed down the pen poised in hand, rising from his desk to make his way around to greet the new-comer who’s mind he had brushed. Perhaps it was cheating, he reflected momentarily— using his mutation in the application of psychology, or of treatment. But the power he had retained was not an ability he could shut off, nor the additional abilities perks to be ignored. Not if they could be of any assistance to him in helping these people…
"Good evening." Ever polite, ever charming, the professor brought open the door to his office with a soft creak, blue eyes settling in upon the figure that seemed to have located his practice. This was not a face that was familiar to him…not first-hand, anyhow. A potential new patient? Perhaps…or an applicant in need of a job? The answers to these questions and more were at his fingertips. However, the professor ever remained a great believer in the lost art of conversation.
"A pleasure to meet you. I am Professor Charles Xavier. Is there something I might help you with?" He greeted, a warm smile alighting itself to his features as the brunette opened the door a little wider, invitingly even, for too late he thought better of the abruptness of his words. Such conversation could be better carried out over a cup of earl grey. "Would you care to come in?"
yousharknotpass
romaincrisis
2087
germansingergirl
