[ At first there is nothing but panic. Charles feels it race through his veins and spark out of the edges of him. Too many new minds are pressing in upon him and he cannot feel the ones he needs to the most. There is absence of prickling rage, of worry, of teenage bravery and very real fear and Charles acts on instinct, casting out for his friends and his family. People stop in the streets and wince as though simultaneously struck by a headache. He sees it at the very corner of his eye and immediately drops his fingers from his temple, the pain and worry leaking away from those around him to replaced by a blink and you'll miss it sense of apologetic peace.

He'd woken up slumped against the stone lip of a fountain, a device cradled in his hands, blue and yellow leather leaving a cold prickle against his skin. Now he looks at it for the first time, piercing blue eyes alarmed but severe as they peer into the screen. It's a computer, but not one that he's seen before and he lets himself examine it for a moment. It's almost easy to pluck the information out of a passing stranger, the unusual little box and it's communication methods. Charles doesn't necessarily like the thought, invasion of privacy and the so very obvious broadcasting of his helpless location but if he wants to get back to Erik and the children --. ]

Hello. [ Clipped, English accent and all, Charles still sounds so very young. Like a child trying on his father's suit. His own brow furrows, chastising himself internally. ] My name is Charles Xavier. It would appear I've gotten a little ... turned around. [ Undoubtedly. This feels more of a English-American mix and not the sand of Cuban or the irritated buzz of Russians. He thinks momentarily of the red-skinned teleporter before deciding that's not what happened. ] I don't entirely know how I arrived here but I do know I was with a group. Four teenagers, a young woman and another fellow. If anyone could help me get in contact with them that would be much appreciated.

[ Already he has the sinking sensation of the world sealing itself off. But he can't be a pessimist, that wouldn't do. ]

( ooc: So if you'd like your character to get that little psychic shove of worry off Charles feel free. There's probably little way to figure out that it's him unless you know him but if you want to notice it go ahead. Also I have a permissions post if you want to opt out of him reading you. )

Say one found themselves with a herd of sheep totalling an even hundred. What should one do with said sheep, in your opinion?

Giving them away and/or massive slaughter are not options that will be considered for the sake of this poll. 



[private to: Bobby Lassiter, Sean Cassidy, Stiles Stilinski & Raven Xavier] 

What do you think of assisting with a special project for Erik and keeping it a secret?

[private to: Luke]

I have a favor to ask of you. You'll be paid in food. Also I am hoping to include David in plotting. What say you?

[private to: Meyer Lansky]

Might I ask you a question? It will likely turn into a series thereof, for fair warning.

 [What is this? A video? A video in which Charles is neither screaming his head off nor waving his intellect around at all and sundry?

Bless.

Actually this appears to be accidental - there's the noise of a tea kettle being quickly removed from heat, that buildup of a whine abruptly cut off and sloshing of water in a metal container. Most of the frame is occupied by the kitchen counter, a deep blue ceramic teapot, a jar of loose leaf tea and half of Charles' upper body - button up shirt with rolled up sleeves pushed past his elbows - sort of puttering around in the immediate area.

Loose leaf tea goes into a small metal tea straining ball, ball goes into the teapot, kettle pours hot water into teapot, kettle is returned to stove out of frame. Charles reaches up into a cabinet to obtain a cup, takes it down - 

and drops it, suddenly, where it rolls off the counter and quietly shatters on the floor. His fingers are turning blue and he turns his palms upwards.]

Ow?

[Charles uses his hands to push himself away from the counter (his face isn't visible at this point) though doesn't get too far, if the soft thud is any indicator. There's a sound rather like a door slamming and then opening simultaneously in the next second.

The feed ends there.]

[Oh look, another video. Only this seems to be possibly accidental or at the very least not very well managed - the device appears to have fallen from somewhere onto a carpet and there's not much to be seen save some table legs, a few empty but clean bookshelves, and a pair of socked feet.

That appear to have, somehow, a part of the metal chair legs wrapped around them.

The chair jumps, slightly, and the device jumps with it - now we can see Charles! He...doesn't look happy. In fact, he looks rather like the chair decided to hug him. Very tightly.]

Erik. Lehnsherr!

[Charles grunts with the effort of apparently trying to free himself from this chair. How does a chair manage to do that anyway?]

You cannot simply haul people from public [thump] establishments [thump] and then TIE THEM TO CHAIRS [thump] without their consent and say it's for their own sodding good [thump] and LEAVE THEM THERE!

[Charles is clearly attempting to tip the chair or knock it into something and having a bit of difficulty with this. Maybe because he's so busy being incensed.]

What are you going to do, anyway? [thump] Yank all the fillings out of everyone's teeth [thump] in the grocery until they tell you what you want to know? [thump] Since when do you care about strangers [thump] to begin --

[The back legs of the chair don't land at quite the same time and suddenly the chair tumbles to the right. That sound? Isn't pleasant. Though he doesn't seem to have broken anything.]

Bloody fucking hell.

Erik! Get back here and let me free of this damned chair or so help me I will never speak to you - [With a grunt of effort Charles manages to get the chair onto it's back and off of his arm, but this also knocks the feed out.

All replies will be voice!

ooc; AND BECAUSE I'M AN IDIOT and forgot to mention, Charles is clearly affected by negative-tea! Feel free to have had your character notice the grocery store full of people bickering at each other and then Erik dragging Charles out of there by the coat.]

[Have a video, Poly! Done in a rather typical sort of videoblogger format, although the man looking into the camera doesn't seem too certain that it's recording. Instead he peers at the screen for several seconds before moving his eyes to the upper right hand corner and...]

Oh! It is on.  [Whoops. Self-conscious hair smoothing fidgeting happens. Also Charles' accent is some bizarre amalgamation of Queen's English and high society New York.] Ah-heh. Anyway: hello and good evening, denizens of the City! Some of you I've spoken to already, and the majority of you I surely haven't, but I just arrived today and I wished to make certain that I am properly understanding the predicament that we are all in for the length of our stay. Thus...

[He begins to tick things off on on his fingers.]

• We are all trapped within the confines of an island, in a City literally called 'The City', run by "gods" who, while not terribly creative on the naming of locations front, have other much groovier ideas, including but not limited to:
• Curses, or events in which people find themselves suffering from any matter of unwitting statuses, including but not limited to rapid aging or age regression (complete with amnesia), waking up with one's body changed to the opposite gender, and being constantly followed by an animal familiar or companion.
• However, the City does have several social programs and the residents, despite not coming here of their own volition, are expected to contribute to the economy by either working or opening their own business.
• Along that same vein, there is a coin system here that appears to be roughly in base-5 and despite the fact that there is no guarantee a business' debtors will still be here in a month, all businesses will allow you to purchase items on credit until you do find employment.
• The Academy will hire you as an instructor on as little as your own word and several, rather basic, written tests on the Sciences. [Smirk.]
• Several of you have been here for quite a long while, meaning a year or more and:
• Several of you are possessing superhuman or mutant abilities.
• We have no control over when we leave or arrive; however we are returned to the moment that we left and may return here with partial memory of our prior stay.
• Everyone who spends time alone is affected by the same aural hallucination after several hours.
• The subway system induces fits of hysteria.

[Ten items, ten fingers!]

Is there anything I've missed? Other than the undead construction workers currently beyond the city limits, anyway. 

Oh! Other than introducing myself, which I suspect is only polite: my name is Charles Xavier and while teaching is my calling, helping other people reach their full potential, specifically in the case of powers and abilities, is my passion. 

It's nice to meet you...all. [Such a cocky smile, really.]