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[specifications]

TAB ID: MORGAN, ARTHUR
UNREAD E-MAILS (-)	VOICEMAILS (-)	TYPE: HUMAN, MALE [ ONLINE ] TAB FUNCTIONS [AVAILABLE]

TEXTING	AUDIO/VIDEO	VOICEMAIL
<span style="font-family: monospace;"><B>USER ID:</B> USERNAME (SURNAME, NAME) <blockquote>TEXT GOES HERE</blockquote></span>	<span style="font-family: monospace;"><B>USER ID:</B> USERNAME (SURNAME, NAME)</span> <blockquote><SMALL>[ AUDIO/VIDEO GOES HERE ]</SMALL></blockquote>	<span style="font-family: monospace;"><b>( 1 ) VOICEMAIL</B> LAST NAME, FIRST NAME <blockquote>[ LEAVE A MESSAGE ]</blockquote></span>

CODE BY WHAMBAM

Comments

is it really unavailable tho | [text; bckdt. over blackouts]

[welcomeprofessor]

How are you holding up? Do you have enough supplies?

[ It's a good thing it's text. He can feel the concern settling in his stomach in the form of unshakeable anxiety; he might not be able to keep a straight face. ]

it's got a mind of its own

[specifications]

It's manageable. The cold and noises are a bit more concerning. Need a flashlight to go into the hallway.

arthuuuuuuur

[welcomeprofessor]

Do you not have power AT ALL?

calm down charles

[specifications]

We do but it's low backup power. The lights are dim and there is heat.

[ It's just not ideal. He can work with that tho. ]

I'm closer to the Center here. More worried about you guys being all the way out there.

;;backdated like whoa

[specifications]

[ It was weeks since the last time he had seen Charles in person. They had parted on good enough terms and Arthur had made it a point to stay busy, picking up more jobs through ingress traveling. It was pretty damn amazing and provided him with a great distraction. Especially when the whole "go to this slaver outpost" thing happened over the Network. Arthur had talked to Charles about making sure his kids didn't get any rash ideas in their heads about going but hadn't checked in on him to make sure things were okay.

Every time he was about to, he wasn't sure what to say. Or if he even had any right to. What business of it was really his?

So, the surprise at seeing Charles there, outside of his apartment door one day after returning from a job off-planet, was pretty damn hard hitting. He almost trips over his boots as he's walking down the hallway. He's filthy and his clothes are torn in places, a bag strapped over one shoulder, carrying what supplies he had taken with him (including some alien gun he had found and decided to keep for himself). ]

Charles? What are you doing here?

ugh sorry i'm the worst

[welcomeprofessor]

[ Frankly, they've both looked better. Charles is fresh off an on-again-off-again hospital stay (and without the excuse that it had been his own admission keeping him there), and he looks rough. He feels rough, and yet, with one look at Arthur, he begins to wonder if this hadn't been a very bad idea. (Or at best a poorly timed one.) ]

You know, I've asked myself that a few times already.

[ And every answer is unsatisfactory. That he cares is apparent, though too much may still be up for debate. Or is this simply a desperate grab at some kind of amicable company when the world feels too damn thin and fragile otherwise? He settles closer to the latter. Easier. ]

I needed out of the house, that's all.

not even close. shush.

[specifications]

[ Something shifts in Arthur's expression, a little softer. More openly sympathetic than he would normally show to people. He gives a nod and takes Charles in again. He can see it pretty clearly on second glance.

He takes out his keys for the place and unlocks his door. He goes in and holds the door open for the other man. ]

Nice beard, by the way.

<3

[welcomeprofessor]

[ He groans a little, having once again forgotten about it entirely until it's mentioned. With a little huff, he wheels inside. ]

I wouldn't normally let it go, it's just-- [ It starts off tired and slightly snappy, and finally he gives up trying to defend it. ] It's been a long week. Though from the look of it, I don't need to tell you as much.

Sometimes We are an Open Wound

[magneticfields]

[ After he's altered what he found to a not-terrible state, he goes to Charles' quarters to give him what he found for him. He knows, even if Charles were able to access all the detritus around the station, there is no way he would have even thought to go looking in the places Erik went. Or even consider the option of scavenging at all.

Such things are not the kind of skills ones learn growing up in the kind of hardship Charles experienced.

He doesn't knock, because after twenty years some boundaries have blurred. If Charles doesn't want him there, he's more than capable of telling him to leave. ]

Charles? Where are you. I didn't find anything in that ghastly shade of lavender you're obsessed with lately, but I think you might like this awful paisley shirt for nostalgia's sake.

[specifications]

[ Arthur is in the middle of organizing the shelf space in the storage cabinets in their room -- something they were lucky to have. Because while Charles may not have been someone to go poking around, Arthur was. At least enough to believe in gathering what resources that could be found. Not just for themselves but for the others living in the same unit.

He's still kneeling down in front of one of them when the door opens and he looks over at Erik, not knowing who the hell he was but apparently he knew Charles (though the mention of paisley shirts is a callback to a certain someone he wasn't wanting to think about for fuck's sake). ]

He's not here. You are?

[magneticfields]

[ Erik stops short and sizes up the young man. A bit old to be one of the students. Perhaps a teacher, or a student who simply came to the school very late as it sometimes happens. And yet somehow he doesn't know who Erik is. ]

You must be new. [ And ignorant to the point of absurdity. Even when he wishes it didn't, Erik's reputation tends to proceed him. Particularly in America. ] I'm Erik. Also known as Magneto. Where is Charles?

[specifications]

[ Arthur makes a slight face at that, the arrogance in that kind of statement irking him immediately. He closes the storage cabinet and stands up. ]

Not new. Still don't know you.

[ He then shrugs at the question, ]

He could be any number of places. Why do you want to know?

[action - backdated to very early Oct.]

[welcomeprofessor]

[ To say this is a period of adjustment is to cast this whole situation in a very kind and simplistic light, one Charles is not feeling near gracious enough to bestow. On a simplistic level, yes, he's grateful that they've been able to keep themselves together, the kids all whole and in one place (and not off somewhere getting into trouble, hurt, or worse: both). He's not so far gone as to think none of that overshadows his own gripes and inconveniences.

At the end of the day, he will only call them gripes and inconveniences. But right now? God, it all grates. The space they're in is cold, unpersonable, and barely different from the captivity they'd all taken such pains to escape. They're so lacking in resources it's almost laughable (in a horrible grim sort of way he'd never express in front of anyone dependent upon him). And he's expected to be such a rallying force here that any expression of these gripes has been swallowed and bitten down on as much as humanly possible, which only makes his internal irritation rise and his blood boil.

By the time the whole wing (it feels strange to call it anything else) is settled for the evening, Charles has thrown himself into one of the few chairs in his and Arthur's room with an intense frown. One hand presses hard into his eyes and nose, as if he could stave off the headache that's been building now for hours, and the other arm is slung dramatically over his forehead. ]

When do we wake up and find out this is the end of the Wizard of Oz?

[ It's petulant. It's immature. It's a complaint and tone years out of appropriate usage. He doesn't care. ]

[action; backdate to #crutchesgate]

[welcomeprofessor]

[ Normally, he would at least broach the fact that he's coming home by other means than simply storming in all in a huff, but he's all in a huff and goddamn it, he feels perfectly entitled to this right now.

He doesn't have the wherewithal and the patience to continue dealing with the set-up of his classroom, or figuring out what can be used feasibly for supplies without bankrupting the vault, as it were. That requires care and precision, and far more forethought that he really has right now.

He's given his talk with Jean time to settle, just enough, but his mind continues to wheel back around and cycle to a singular moment in that story of mounting loss.

So, when he storms in--a mood downplayed frustratingly when he can't properly storm in--it's all about countenance. Sour frowns, short heaved sighs, glaring at not much of anything. He doesn't even wait for much of an introduction or even a greeting before: ]

I shouldn't be going bald at fifty. This is ridiculous.

[text;] allow me to just drown you in inbox shit ig, but uh you asked for this

[welcomeprofessor]

You know, she isn't wrong.

that's fine by me. ALSO I GET TO USE THIS LINE

[specifications]

You'll have to be more specific.

<3 bless

[welcomeprofessor]

[ Whatever, Arthur, you know precisely what he's talking about. ]

Teaching. You do have the skills for it.

[specifications]

[ He's not the mindreader here, Chaz. ]

Not you, too. I don't. I don't have the patience for kids or teenagers.

[text; early 12/2] | whoops is this the 50th starter, my bad

[welcomeprofessor]

I could use some advice, if you're not otherwise occupied.

/kissu

[specifications]

Sure. What is it?

YES HE IS CONCERNED ABOUT THIS

[welcomeprofessor]

I'm not actually sure how to...I might as well just out with it.

If you were in my position--just an if, mind, not considering the how or why--and your job consisted of taking care of wayward children...

Is adopting one of them unfair?

awww

[specifications]

[ His brows go up at that but he genuinely turns it over in his head before shaking it to himself. ]

I don't think so. If there's a bond there and love, the kid is better off with someone that wants them, right?

[ Followed by: ]

Are you actually going to adopt someone?

text; backdated to school stuff

[welcomeprofessor]

WHAT AN ASSHOLE.

hahahaha

[specifications]

MY RESPONSE WAS PERFECTLY REASONABLE.

[ where the hell did this come from ]

[welcomeprofessor]

Not always but right now it's perfectly founded.

[ HE'S SO MAD, ARTHUR. ]