off balance; a sneak preview.
I've still got problems being on a computer long enough to be able to type the whole thing up, but because you are such wonderfully patient people, here is a tiny section of not-quite-polished-but-probably-nearly-what-will-make-it-in-to-the-final-draft off balance part three.
“So you’re saying you gave no encouragement to his suggestions of homosexual activity?”
“What? No! None whatsoever,” Charles says, wearily. “I’ve said this. I don’t want to have to say it again.”
“Mr Xavier,” asks the detective, “would it surprise you to know that Mr Le Beau is dead?”
Charles feels a lead lump in his chest, feels a squeezing, feels the panic and the bile rising. “Yes,” he says. “I mean, I’m surprised.”
The detective looks unconfused, and smiles a grim and unamused smile before leaning forwards, his hands clasped in front of him. “Really,” he says, and it is not a question.
“How - how did he die?” asks Charles, because perhaps if someone says it he can finally believe that it’s real.
He expects, perhaps, that the words will hurt, that they will be confusing and terrifying and nauseating. He doesn’t expect them to make him want to cry.
“Someone took him to pieces,” says the detective. “Blew him up, perhaps, or maybe they cut him up with something sharp. The New Orleans forensics department hasn’t said yet. At any rate, they found his head on one side of the room, fingers on the other, and blood on just about every surface imaginable. Oh, say - Mr Xavier, you were pretty bloodied up when you came into that station, weren’t you?”
-
on a side note, the incomparably brilliant luninosity has gone through with her threat and written an amazing spinoff fic for this 'verse over here and oh my god, it is wonderful and disturbing and you should go and read it immediately if you are hungry for more heartbreaking Charles time, but take tissues with you.
I will try and have something up in the next few days; thank you to all the people who have friended me recently, and to all the comments; I am reading them, and I will reply to them as soon as I have access for more than ten minutes!
And I may be sort of writing apocalypse 'The Road' inspired fic in my spare time, because that's cheery. Think I may have a problem. Oops.
“So you’re saying you gave no encouragement to his suggestions of homosexual activity?”
“What? No! None whatsoever,” Charles says, wearily. “I’ve said this. I don’t want to have to say it again.”
“Mr Xavier,” asks the detective, “would it surprise you to know that Mr Le Beau is dead?”
Charles feels a lead lump in his chest, feels a squeezing, feels the panic and the bile rising. “Yes,” he says. “I mean, I’m surprised.”
The detective looks unconfused, and smiles a grim and unamused smile before leaning forwards, his hands clasped in front of him. “Really,” he says, and it is not a question.
“How - how did he die?” asks Charles, because perhaps if someone says it he can finally believe that it’s real.
He expects, perhaps, that the words will hurt, that they will be confusing and terrifying and nauseating. He doesn’t expect them to make him want to cry.
“Someone took him to pieces,” says the detective. “Blew him up, perhaps, or maybe they cut him up with something sharp. The New Orleans forensics department hasn’t said yet. At any rate, they found his head on one side of the room, fingers on the other, and blood on just about every surface imaginable. Oh, say - Mr Xavier, you were pretty bloodied up when you came into that station, weren’t you?”
-
on a side note, the incomparably brilliant luninosity has gone through with her threat and written an amazing spinoff fic for this 'verse over here and oh my god, it is wonderful and disturbing and you should go and read it immediately if you are hungry for more heartbreaking Charles time, but take tissues with you.
I will try and have something up in the next few days; thank you to all the people who have friended me recently, and to all the comments; I am reading them, and I will reply to them as soon as I have access for more than ten minutes!
And I may be sort of writing apocalypse 'The Road' inspired fic in my spare time, because that's cheery. Think I may have a problem. Oops.