Normally, Charles had a remarkably good rein over his powers. Ever since he first learned that he could use them, he'd trained himself carefully in order to prevent any mishaps. Although Charles often did put his telepathy to use on the vast majority of people, he had promised to never read Raven's mind again, and for years he had kept that only
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A bit uneasy Hank went into the room, closing the door behind him out of pure habit of a polite upbringing.
"Charles, are you alright?" he asked having seen him stumble. He stayed close to the door, feeling a bit uneasy. Being in a sex crazed hotel could make one anxious.
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"Hank," Charles gasps, struggling to maintain control. He's actually almost successful at being somewhat presentable, but the hand clutched to the side of his head and his breathing gave him away. "I'm afraid I'm a little...indisposed at the moment."
Understatement.
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"Your telepathy," he said taking his hands away, "Can you stop transmitting?"
He had a horrible feeling the answer was no. Why would he be doing this if he had the choice to stop.
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Despite popular opininon, Charles isn't capable of being a saint all of the time. And when he can't clear his head for two seconds, just enough time to breathe, it starts to fray at his sense of patience.
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"I know it's rather frustrating not to be able to control what's going on with your ability," he said comfortingly, but he was obviously distracted.
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"How long have you been here?" he asks, as a way of addressing Hank's thoughts without directly doing so. He thinks about this place with a degree of a defeatist attitude, but Charles has not been brought up to scratch.
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"Almost a month," he reported solemnly, "You just arrived. Well, at least you understand what this place is."
He was trying to adjust to the images, to the sensations, but they were intense. He wasn't a telepath and this wasn't normal for him.
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"It becomes easier when your mind becomes accustomed to it. In the usual cases, although this obviously is not one of them," he says gently, after noticing Hank's discomfort with the intensity of the sensations. Of course, that applied to telepathy in general and not this. Charles didn't think he'd ever get used to this chaos.
Breathing hard - almost panting, Charles grits his teeth and makes a decision. "We should...attempt to find a way out, at the very least."
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"There isn't one. I've looked. I've talked to people who have been here a lot longer than me. They've looked too and found nothing. We're stuck," he said then tried to met Charles eyes, "Try focusing on my thoughts. Focus on me. Let's see if we can't get this back under control."
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