Logs:Tesssting
| Tesssting | |
|---|---|
cn: minor allusions to sexual coercion/assault | |
| Dramatis Personae | |
| In Absentia | 2024-05-16 "Take it away, gentlemen." |
| 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. "-- an' Harm been downplaying things some but I'onno how much of that is," << (being Chinese) >> Jax is not saying aloud but it's definitely there in his mind in bright snapshot-flickers of remembered conversations throughout the years and learning where his own (heavily Southern) (heavily autistic) communication-styles mesh and clash with different flavors of indirect communication. "-- them bein' them." Also unspoken is his continued efforts to try and tease through the balance of deprioritizing their own feelings, fear of Naomi, and "actually it's really not that serious". He's tucked comfortable into an armchair, frowning contemplatively down at the coffee held in hands far fiercely warmer than the drink should make them. There's a host of his own memories mingled in here -- long and serious discussions with Daiki and Shane about the extremely complicated terrain of navigating consent with Daiki's deeply consent-overriding mutation. The distant but quietly formative hurts from Jax's own high school years and first disastrous relationship with an older biokinetic only too happy to take full advantage -- of both the coercion of his mutation and a young and inexperienced teenager's first forays into Gay Community with no older mentor to guide him. These images shift and meld until they've painted themselves into a larger painting in Jax's mind, the fine line of trying to learn from past experiences without just projecting them wholesale onto his younger mentee. He isn't quite sure where that all lands in the end but what he is sure of is: "I think either way, if it's even possible to craft up some kinda protection against --" (<< against >> << againsssst >> << againsssssssst >> is repeating in delighted and increasingly snakey echolalia in his mind even as the paintbrush-and-pencil tattoos worming down his forearm take on a more serpentine bent, slithering disconcertingly in-and-out of his skin. "Incidental brain-control, it could go a long way towards making that a safer-feeling" << and safer >> "conversation for 'em." Charles is quiet through this, radiating a subtle warmth that somehow isn't cool beside Jax's heat, nor adds to it. He's quiet for another beat after the younger man finishes speaking, "I suspect Harmony may also be defensive of Naomi out of fear for her, that others may assume the worst of her on the basis of her power no matter how judicious she is with its use." He briefly projects a visualization of his own psionic shields as nested stained glass spheres in constant motion, each pane lit bright from within yet also reflecting from outside a different version of "stay out of my head". "They are not wrong. But also, Naomi has not been judicious. The fact they agreed to consider my intervention at all inclines me to think it is serious enough." He gives Jax a faint, rueful smile. "And that you have been judicious with your guidance." Beneath this is the painful unspoken understanding how easy it might be to push away a young person in Harm's position. "I have given some thought to the technical aspects of Naomi's power, while crafting a lesson plan for her...independent study on the matter." He takes a sip of his coffee and then sets it down. "Much like Ryan's empathy, Naomi's compulsion circumvents conventional psionic defenses by acting via auditory processing. Even I would have little resistance if she wished to compel me, provided she caught me unawares." He produces a pair of bright orange earplugs from a pocket of his jacket -- a gift from a concerned student, presumably. "Avi's 'brain armor' operates by blocking the sound of her words, but it stands to reason that changing the way the brain processes that sound should also work." His lips compress. "That said, receptive aphasia has its disadvantages." He says this not entirely like someone who has, at some point in time, given himself receptive aphasia. Jax's fingers drum absently against his cup while Charles speaks; tiny flutters of color swirl against the glass with each tap, though the absent feel of his mind at work encompasses absent sensate stims that go far beyond these colors, a rhythmic swell and swirl of light that moves and shifts somewhere outside the realm of Charles's visual perception. He's turning over his advisee's steady sensibility and fierce protectiveness of Naomi next to Avi's cheerful kindness, neither of these boys particularly inclined to turn on people lightly. "I'd wager the boys is more shoot up than they even letting on, too." He lifts his cup to sip at his coffee and is shaking his head, small, when he lowers it again. "Brains is wild, I thought if anyone might know a way to hack that kinda thing --" This line of thought stirs a sharp pang of grief inside him that he's doggedly pushing back down. "S'it possible to make it real selective? I'onno much about your --" He waggles his fingers towards his head; a fiercely glowing pulse appears in his own forehead that's accompanied in his mind by a cartoon-Xavier Thinking Very Hard. "-- but if there's any way to fine tune it good. I mean, Naomi's mind thing, it sounds pretty distinctive, and if the only thing getting blocked out is..." He considers this, uncertain. "Like if you're hearing the hissy-voice and you didn't want to. Maybe." Charles nods, brows still slightly furrowed. "Yes, I quite agree. If we work out a reasonably exportable method, it may be wise to inoculate some of the staff and X-Men, as well. Scott, at the very least." It's hard to say whether the whisper of his protectiveness here is deliberate communication or a mental slip, but the halo of his psychic presence blooms warmer. And then suddenly cooler, though his expression does not change as he picks his coffee back up. "Brains are quite extraordinary. It is indeed possible to change language processing selectively, but doing it by frequency or sound quality is unreliable. Brains -- being both extraordinary and wild -- tend to rewire themselves around such things. Communication," he says, at once vexed and awed, "finds a way. But perhaps..." He mirrors the expression of Jax's cartoon rendition of him. "I can teach a mind to classify this kind of speech as its own discrete language." He sits up just a little straighter. "And encrypt it, so to speak, such that it would take a deliberate effort to parse. I would need samples -- ideally interactive calibration -- but I do think it can be done." "Yeah, it's probably a good call to have plenty staff 'round that can't be zonked in a crisis. And," Jax sounds a little more thoughtful about this, "possibly the kids she's done hurt, too." He shakes his head quick, the glow fading from his forehead as Charles looks Particularly Telepathy. "I feel like we ain't likely to get Naomi's real good cooperation on this project, but -- oh!" He sits up straighter in his chair, his smile kind of crooked. "-- guess it's a good thing you know some real practiced labrats, anyway." --- One might be excused for thinking Professor X only presses his fingertips to his temple while Telepathing as a bit, but after anyone who's seen him use his power in an intensive, protracted way can probably tell he's really -- consciously or otherwise -- trying to get at the headache. He hasn't seemed particularly discouraged by their lack of success so far, but has been scrupulously avoiding scientific language in a way that might in fact be more painful to him than the headache itself. Jax can't really feel whatever he's doing in there, and while Joshua can feel that he's doing quite a lot, it's not necessarily clear what. From the outside, he's just been sitting quietly, moving little except to rub slow circles over his left temple. But now he sits up again and blinks his eyes clear, reaching for a cup of tea which has probably gone cold already. "Take it away, gentlemen." Jax looks calm enough for the somewhat invasive experimentation, anyway, but he is currently sporting a twitchy nose and whiskers, white fur, a long tail. If he's discouraged it doesn't show outside, though his mind has been heavily wandering. He's turning his attention back to Joshua now, though. Chin propped in his hands, his eyes -- both the real one and a very large and curious cartoon one -- fixed steadily on his teammate. << Good thing I don't have performance anxiety. >> Joshua is very much not looking at the cartoon eye. He's cupping his own coffee -- also cold -- and grimacing faintly as he takes a sip. His mind has also been wandering, though it snaps back to attentiveness when Charles speaks. << probably shouldn't get creative here >> << {what about silly Jax has a solid appreciation for silly} >> << no who knows how long we'll be here don't want this to get tiring >> << {really should inoculate all the X-Men if this works} >> << oh I know he can heat our coffees back up >> << kind of funny giving the orders here this is usually the other way around. >> is mostly thinking about Jax-as-team-leader, about the way he'd probably obey nearly any order he could imagine the photokinetic giving, << {trust like a fucking mind control shortcut} >> << {nah been a goddamn decade and a half mind control way quicker} >> shifts into a wondering how many other people make that list for him -- -- and only here somewhere is he remembering (a little sheepish with the telepath beside him) that he's supposed to be testing this out again (<< tesssting, hah >>) and he's flicking a hand in Xavier's general direction, trying to summon up the right Dom Mindset for his gruff and hissing, "'Heat him back up' --" Only a short second later, feeling the heat begin to blister, that his mind is a frantic << {fuck fuck fuck English to hell} >> "No stop 'stop'. The tea. 'Heat the tea.'" << gonna need it, we'll be here a while. >> | |
