Logs:Heavy is the Head

Heavy is the Head
Dramatis Personae Charles, Scott
In Absentia Erik, Leo, Kitty	2024-08-04 "As for Magneto..."
Location <XAV> Xavier's Study - Xs Third Floor
The reading room tucked into the corner of the suite is much smaller than the one in the mansion's library proper, cozily appointed in polished dark wood and plush burgundy upholstery. The walls are lined with floor-to-ceiling mobile bookshelves, including a climate controlled case beside the antique writing desk and one behind it that conceals a private elevator. A sideboard by the door holds a silver platter with a crystal decanter of scotch and two old fashioned glasses, a pitcher of water, a crystal bowl of peppermint starlights, and a rather space age looking coffee machine(?) beside a fine white porcelain tea set at the far end. There is a small table with an elegant steel chess set in a bright nook beneath one of the windows, flanked by a single chair. There is a chess game in progress now; Scott is sitting still and straight-backed in the chair by the window, dressed in jeans and a heather grey tee and work boots; there is a cup of coffee growing cold on his side of the table, right next to his cell phone, placed face-down to not distract him but still in easy reach; his arms are folded on the table. Scott is normally a deliberate, unhurried chess player -- he wouldn't fare well at blitz chess -- but today he has been a little more confident than usual in his movements, though perhaps unearnedly so; the black side of the chessboard has lost a number of pawns and a few more important pieces as well, though Scott (neither outwardly nor inwardly) is not a sore loser even through what is beginning to look like a drawn-out defeat. The mental shields he politely constructs out of respect for the game have been as disciplined as ever -- the stray thoughts that surface have been floated out purposely -- just now, as he scoots his bishop down a diagonal, he is trying to decide whether it will be quiet in the mansion once the students' new residential building is finished, and whether that will be difficult to get used to, << it's hard to imagine now, >> though he is also noting with vague amusement that << (it used to be quieter) >> back when he had been one of a tiny handful of students, and not several hundred. Once his bishop is in place he quietly folds his arms on the table again. Charles has been unusually quiet through this game, though not awkwardly so. The ambient warmth of his presence is as soothing as ever, but there's a distant quiet in it he isn't trying to disguise. He smiles at Scott's mental speculation and answers it with a glimpse of a summer's day some thirty years past. The view from the window he's sitting at hasn't changed all that much, and in the memory there is a boat out on the lake, the thoughts of a much younger Scott and Jean murmuring distant like comforting static on which a somewhat younger Charles is determinedly not eavesdropping. << (It used to be quieter,) >> he agrees. << I don't think it will be that quiet, with the new building, but I am looking forward to some relief. >> He does not complain about the toll that the last spring term took on his mind. << It's been a difficult year for everyone, and I have not been as present as I ought. >> This isn't, exactly, an apology, either. He advances a pawn that seems to open the way for Scott's bishop. << Did you hear the latest news about that bioterrorism attack in DC? >> Behind his glasses Scott's eyes haven't moved from the chessboard, but he smiles too -- his memory of being seventeen on the lake with Jean is fuzzier and half-remembered, but he lets it glide along the glossy, quiet stream of his own mind in answer. << I don't think it will ever be that quiet again, >> he agrees, << (I hope not) >> barely conscious as an afterthought. Now he lift his eyes to look at Charles, though his head doesn't move with them, his eyebrows quirking worriedly, and he forms his response deeper below in his mind, where his editing process won't be heard. The disagreement is very mild: << You were still here, >> Scott replies. He moves a rook out to back up his bishop, his fingers lingering on the chess piece for a moment -- again there is the sense, in the front-facing quiet of his mind, that his wheels are chugging away underneath. << Yes, >> he confirms. << About Leonid Concepcion, or Magneto? >> It is a credit to Charles's long experience in managing his power and to his rigorous mental discipline in general that there's no sense here he's even tempted to take a deeper look at Scott's thought processes. << It wasn't really the noise (though the noise certainly didn't help) >> There's something almost like fluster here. << And it wasn't just this past year. You've all deserved better than you got from me, this entire past decade. >> He studies the black rook as he raises his teacup, then sets it back down in the saucer. << Both, I suppose. With his charges effectively dismissed, Leo will, I expect, be back in Kitty's life shortly. >> He appends this thought with the knowledge of his concern without imposing the concern itself on Scott. << I haven't got a good sense for how she's been dealing with finding out about his...political inclinations. I was hoping you might have some insight on that. >> His faded blue eyes drop to the board again, and he executes a probably superfluous kingside castle. << As for Magneto... >> His lips compress. << I want us to be prepared, if he's back in play. >> Scott takes a gulp of coffee after Charles sips his tea, like this has just reminded him the beverage is there; once he sets the cup down again his hand drops almost automatically to his phone, though he resists the fleeting urge to check it. << This entire past decade? >> echoes back at Charles in near the same inflection, and for a moment Scott has a powerful urge to reassure Charles, or to keep arguing the point; he doesn't suppress it so much as sideline it, like he might come back to this later -- now his teammate and Leo Concepcion have taken the forefront of his thoughts. << I don't know if I would have a better sense than you, >> Scott thinks himself unqualified to comment on other people's relationships when the Brotherhood of Mutants isn't involved, and his hastily-mustered effort to estimate Kitty's state of mind is with the odd, abstract distance of command. << Hard to say, >> he decides finally. << She seems a little sensitive. >> After Charles castles, Scott manages a thin, amused trace of a grin as he redirects his bishop to a new warpath; the smile has dropped back away a moment later. << I do, too. >> Charles nods abstractedly. << They were getting quite serious, I gather. But realizing your beloved sees the world in fundamentally, violently different ways... That can be deeply painful. >> He takes a slow, lingering sip of his tea and studies the board. << Liberty Island hurt me more than I was ever willing to admit to anyone, myself included. I have been emotionally compromised ever since, and after Magneto got loose I allowed him liberties I ought never to have done. >> He laces his fingers together, an accustomed enough gesture, but tight with unwonted tension. << It's clear that he has not learned any better, and without the Brotherhood he may have fewer resources, but that also leaves no one to check his madness. >> He lets Scott claim his remaining knight in exchange for getting his rooks onto the same rank, projecting sheer menacing downboard. << That attack on HAMMER might well have triggered a pandemic of society-collapsing proportions. I am not convinced Leo Concepcion wasn't responsible for it, but he is deeply circumspect with his power. >> His mind echoes back to Scott the memory of Leo dropping out of the training for the Lassiter raid after Cerebro's staggering estimated death toll. << Magneto, on the other hand... >> He does not bother dredging up any memories of Liberty Island. Scott knows that part better than he does. << Adjust your training scenarios to account for him as a lone wolf. And if he starts turning up here again... >> He looks down at his own clasped hands. << I don't know what to ask of you. He is my responsibility, and I know him as no one else does. I only wish I trusted myself better. >> Scott looks up again, as Charles sips his tea. << Right. >> Succinct and affectless as this is, even in his mind, it's layered with a muddled mixture of sympathy and anger that Scott is trying politely to withhold: as he takes Charles's knight his mind is still quiet and attentive as he listens, this time without even the sense that he's ruminating privately on his mentor's words -- his gaze holds unwavering at Charles across the chessboard, until, at length, he looks down again to nudge one of his pawns forward. << He's not your responsibility, >> comes across with a very slight edge, << He's responsible for himself, don't take that away from him. >> This is followed by a minute pause, as Scott schools this glimmer of fierceness away, and then -- more conciliatorily -- << You don't need to ask me to do anything, Professor, I'll figure it out. >> Charles nods slowly. << I hate that I have exposed you all to more danger for the sake of my indiscretions, but you are right. He is his own man. At the same time... >> He steeples his hands. << ...he is mine, and I his. For better or worse, we laid the foundations of these struggles, brick by bloody brick. >> He gazes out over the grounds, and allows a small smile. << But you will figure it out, I am certain, and Cere will do his part keeping my ex away if he does not keep himself away. >> He finally starts methodically dismantling what remains of black's defenses in earnest. << And hopefully, Kitty will figure out better compromises with whatever choices her beau made, if compromise she must. >> He doesn't say "thank you", but something eases in the set of his shoulders. << Erik abandoned the future we once sought to build together. Whatever I can salvage of that future belongs to you now, and to everyone else who has stayed at my side through this all. But if nothing else, I will be more present. >> << Hmmph. >> Probably this was not intended for Charles to hear, even if they both know Charles is already well aware of Scott's less-than complimentary view of his ex. Underneath the distrust and distaste, Scott grudgingly, wordlessly acknowledges Erik's role in their history, like a curt mental nod. << Cerebro might be even more bellicose than me, >> he thinks -- there's a sense of amused friendliness in this that is somewhat novel where the Sysadmin is concerned. Through another sip of coffee, Scott watches his impending defeat without much emotion, though he is making fairly careful note of where he's gone wrong. << (Belongs to you) >> echoes back at Charles, though this time the repetition is a mnemonic tic, with a faint, oddly complicated flush of pride. It takes a long, quiet moment before he responds, his tone simple and straightforward, << I will be here. >>