Video

[abetterway]

[the image flickers into focus to reveal a woman from the waist up, staring into the device with a calm intensity belied only by the fingers tugging continually at her collar; she appears to be in her thirties, the dark hair that spills over her shoulders only slightly softening sharp, angular features]

Hello. From what I've gathered, I've awoken on an alien world. [a moment's pause; she's accepted it, it would be counterproductive to dig in her heels, but it's still an absurd thing to say] What I can't seem to discern is how and why.

I have my suspicions, but I suspect they're narrow in focus. I must admit, this is all a bit outside my expertise. [a sudden, wry smile] I suppose I do like to broaden my horizons.

[the smile fades as she leans forward] I'm asking for any information you've gained, and what you intend to do with it. If you don't believe this to be a safe venue, I'm more than happy to meet in person.

Comments

[abetterway]

That complicates things. [finally, she pulls her fingers away from the collar, to steeple her hands on her lap] The dome has proved impenetrable, then.

...Erik is good with metal? [there's a wry sort of wistfulness to her smile]

I don't suppose he could do anything about this blasted collar.

[radars]

Very good, as it happens, though not as good as--... not that it matters.

Is it -- the collar, I mean -- one from the authorities? They're removable, but it requires three people and a bit of coordination.

[abetterway]

[she arches an eyebrow at that, but she doesn't press] If he accepts, I wouldn't mind trying. What does he do, precisely?

[mildly] Is that who they were? [she hadn't intended to admit the encounter in public, but - Shepard was right, and anyway, it might be to her advantage] They're very aggressive, aren't they.

[radars]

To be honest -- I don't know, really.

[ He kills Nazis? He goes around making friends with the wrong Charles? ]</small Very. I've ... heard that the collar is a very unpleasant experience. We'll try to get it off of you as soon as possible.

[abetterway]

[with a slight, knowing smile] It's complicated, then.

I'd...certainly appreciate it.

[radars]

Shall I come find you? I'm not occupied with anything pressing, at the moment.

[abetterway]

...If it's not too much trouble. I'm not very far from the ship.

Log? Action?

[radars]

Very well. I'll be coming from the Old City.

Action is good with me?

[abetterway]

[she flashes a grateful smile] I'll be waiting.

[radars]

[ He doesn't wait for Erik, but slips out. Casts his mind ahead of him, listening for anything that might be the newcomer. ]

[abetterway]

[Jocelyn's mind is locked tight against the world; her defences run deep, and at this point they're instinctive, automatic

but her presence is clear, and it's tinged with her emotions; wariness, frustration, determination, fascination

she's sitting several feet from the ship, gaze roaming over her surroundings as she waits; she yearns to cast her perception further, to meet the mind coming to greet her, but she can't

so she watches, hands fiddling absently with the strange device she awoke with]

[lehnsherr]

[Having already been off on another search, this time for materials to work with, he's much closer to the ship than usual. But even so, he still turns up a while after Charles, keeping himself at a distance for the time being.]

/Stay out./ [His one warning to whoever's listening in. His mind is just as off limits as it always is.]

[radars]

/Don't be a child./

[ Charles' mind glances away as soon as it touches her, a reflex of preserving privacy. He approaches her across the dirt-and-stone ground, with a wave. ]

Hello.

Charles Xavier.

[ He extends a hand. ]

[abetterway]

[she looks up at his approach, smiling faintly; at the introduction, it fades into shock, and then disconcerted understanding]

...Ah.

[as she accepts his hand]

Jocelyn. ...Jocelyn Xavier.

[lehnsherr]

[He stays silent, not rising to the bait, and instead just watching the exchange. As much as the idea of dealing with two telepaths at once makes him feel uneasy, he wasn't willing to put off this meeting. He doesn't know just how much Jocelyn has told Charles, but he knows it'll only be a matter of time before they both reach the same conclusion Erik has.]

[radars]

[ On his face, the mirrored shock turns to confusion, instead, and he directs narrowed eyes at Erik.

Back to Jocelyn: ]

What line of Xaviers, may I ask?

[ Xaviers are old money; there are only so many, in England. ]

[abetterway]

[after a moment, slow and quiet] My parents were Brian and Sharon Xavier.

[lehnsherr]

[Well, that definitely confirms it. Reluctantly, Erik finally closes the gap between them, giving Charles a briefly amused look. He doesn't know whether the man is willing to share all yet, but Erik himself wants to know more. Mainly whether Jocelyn's history lines up better with this Charles or the one he knows. Wheelchair aside.]

We'll need a third to remove that collar. [Because, really, isn't that the most important issue right now?]

[radars]

[ Staggered, absolutely staggered. He shoots a glare at Erik, a /you didn't think to warn me?/. ]

Another timeline, then.

[ His voice comes out calm, to his surprise. ]

You're a telepath as well, then?

[abetterway]

It...appears so. [she's staring at Charles outright, now, stunned and fascinated, and it takes her a moment to answer the question]

I am, yes.

[lehnsherr]

[/and ruin the surprise?/ It's a quick, amused thought, though he has no idea whether Charles is listening in for a response or not.

Pulling his device from his pocket, Erik leaves the other two to talk, working his way through the messages there to find the one he needs. He'll find that third set of hands for them.]

[radars]

What year were you born?

[ The real question: are you more like him, the other Charles, or more like me. ]

[abetterway]

[she arches an eyebrow] Does that still count as a personal question?

1926, in New York. [which clashes with her accent, so she adds] I received a scholarship to Oxford when I was sixteen.

Skip Erik a couple rounds?

[radars]

Not when I don't know what year you're from.

[ Earlier than him. How strange. ]

1928. England. You went to Oxford in the height of the war?

Sure!

[abetterway]

[quietly] I did, yes.

I've...often wished I'd fought that war instead. Did you?