001 ♕ The Little Prince

[butwedonot]

A droplet of water, then another, another, another, soon it's a steady noise, constant as the ticking of a clock. The sound echos faster, picking up like a heartbeat against the darkness. Small sparks of white dot the sky lighting up like fireworks but remaining suspended against the false navy backdrop-- pinpricks glittering against a void. He can

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[helpmeguideit]

In most respects, it is beautiful to him. The way that the grass was laid out, the way that stems sprouted from the berries. The way that the spiraled wood twisted and took shape. It was unfamiliar figures to him. He walked along the grass, taking in the environment, feeling the air. It was unnatural, clearly, not only in the way that everything looked, but how it felt. The air was still against his skin, but moving through leaves.

It hadn't felt as odd as it did when he saw those familiar pajamas. He had those. And that face. The hair. It was like staring in a mirror in some ways. This person closely resembled him, but it wasn't him. Something was off, different. Unusual. It wasn't his dream, though. How could he be a stranger in his own dream

[butwedonot]

"I like it," For a moment there's a tug at the corners of his lips, but the expression doesn't quite stay-- it hardly ever does. For a moment he just stares past him, into the distance, at nothing-- because he's not sure what to make of Charles; this Charles-- it wasn't him. He could tell, too neatly pressed to be him. He doesn't believe he's real either; no, that would be silly-- he could belong to that part of his mind, the normal part, the one that let him know there was something wrong in his head. He wasn't oblivious to it, not with the way Raven had to care for him and help him out-- but he doesn't think on that for long either. Can't. Doesn't want to

[helpmeguideit]

"I don't have a good answer, yet. Yes and no," Charles said. He approached him, his eyes scanning over this Charles in front of him. He watched the small movements of his body, not moving into his mind. Not yet. Not without permission. If this other was a telepath, Charles kept his guard up securely. He would know if the other decided to take a walk in his mind.

The way he carried himself, though, was different from himself. He didn't move, though, afraid to somehow cross a line into territory that was not his own. There was uneasiness in his body, and Charles didn't want to upset -- himself. This himself.

"I think we might be different. A bit different, actually." He was interested, ever the scientist and researcher, in how they both existed.

[butwedonot]

There are the faintest brushes of his thoughts against the edge of Charles' mind, like a light tide upon the shore-- not invasive, just there. He hasn't got the ability to stop it, so he just idly wanders around the outside of his thoughts, like a kid not invited into the game and settled at the sidelines. He is unperturbed by this, or rather enjoys it a little bit even, it's long since been a time where he was solely in his own head without the pain that came from the metal wound so tightly about his head. He likes this quiet-- wonders if it's from his imagination-- if the man wasn't real he'd have no real thoughts, would he? though he seemed very real, real and different. Interesting.

"I like your clothes." He murmurs appraisingly. It's not too different from some of his own, comfy sweaters, vests-- soft things he favored over the starched feeling of pressed shirts and medical gowns. "I don't like shoes so much, though."

[helpmeguideit]

Charles could feel him brushing against the barriers in his mind. At least he wasn't trying to intrude. There would have been problems if he had tried to invade his mind. Charles knew those times where the control over the skill had to be learned. "I only get to use my legs in dreams. I like shoes," Charles offered, a grin creeping at the corner of his mouth. This other was very polite, "Thank you."

"Your name is Charles, correct?" he didn't want to assume.

[butwedonot]

"Why?" That was curious, he had not expected such an answer and didn't see any of the social faux pas with asking. A pause before he tacks on, in elaboration, "I like the feel of carpet under my feet-- not wood or grass so much, too cold." Not that he figured this other would care, no probably not, but he didn't mind talking too much-- when he was talking he was thinking less and that made things easier.

"I am Charles." He nods gently, nudging one of the overgrown berries with his foot, watching it tumble to the side. "Are you Charles too?"

[helpmeguideit]

"An accident," Charles feels it is enough of an answer. If they had been awake, this other Charles would have been able to see the fact that he had been wheelchair bound. "I used to." When he was younger, at least. Charles could remember not wearing shoes around the house. He made a point that unless it was too cold, he wouldn't even wear socks. Not that there was anyone around to correct him on it.

Charles nods his head and don't move, just watches this other version of himself. "My name is Charles." They weren't the same, though. "But if you prefer, you can call me Professor X." It was like staring in a mirror and all that you got back was a distorted image of yourself. It appeared the same in one glance, but was different. It could be odd to call someone that was you - but not, by the same name.

[butwedonot]

"I'm sorry," He murmurs gently-- hoping that was the right answer. It's obvious he's unsure about his response by the way his eyes search over the Professors face as if trying to gauge his reaction. A shift of weight before he looks down again, not the best at maintaining any sort of eye contact, instead toeing the grass gently with one foot.

"Professor X?" That causes a small eruption of laughter from him, not sure what to make of the name. It sounded so different from anything he had encountered. "I like it."

[helpmeguideit]

"I like it, too. Friends gave it to me." He didn't know this Charles' background or who he knew. He wasn't about to introduce people that it was very possible he didn't even know existed. The children were more his students than his friends.

Despite the obvious discomfort that the other had, he was very respectful. "It isn't so bad." Although it was, and this other could probably tell by his surface thoughts and feelings that he was lying. He should know better, but chose the answer that came naturally to him.

"Just very different. I don't think the ground is going to give you any answers, though, Charles."

[butwedonot]

"That must be nice," A little flicker of a smile, but it's hinted with sadness. His own ability to make friends was rather stunted; most couldn't handle him-- others it was best he avoided-- he wasn't able to keep in his own head and it caused problems. Only one real friend for him, or a person to carry his burden depending on how one looked at it. "They must think your special, for a special name." It was less jealousy than one might think, he really believed that, and was happy for this other that was so much like him

[helpmeguideit]

"Mutantkind is very special. People like you and me." Charles shook his head. "Names like that, being treated like that isn't reserved for me." He smiled, shifting his body a little bit, enjoying the feel of his feet on the ground. He didn't get to feel it outside of dreams anymore, and this other him was right - it is a good feeling, even though he wasn't about to take off his shoes.

This Charles had a careful consideration in the way he spoke, and he could appreciate the effort. He knew that he had his own problems himself with knowing the right things to say at the right time when he was trying not to use his skills.

It was odd, difficult, to look himself in the eye. A different himself. He struggled to focus there. He hadn't fully expected the other to say anything. "It is my weight, and mine alone."

He paused, quickly changing the subject. "Don't you enjoy being different?"