Touch of a greater mind (Flower & ChestPains)

ChampionOfTheMorningStar

ChampionOfTheMorningStar

The lunatic Fringe
Charles wasn't even sure why he agreed to this. He sure as hell didn't approve of the way shield dealt with things. He was coming to 'interrogate' someone. They didn't even tell him who Charles rearranged himself on his forearm crutches, as the elevator moved down (which honestly was the slowest damn piece of machinery ever Shield should be able to do better considering all that money they spent on a giant helo-plane-plotuion-thing.). Charles was only here to prove to shield that you catch more flies with honey than with Vinegar. As his grandmother would say. He watched the elevator numbers fall, and felt himself almost wishing that he had brought his wheelchair rather than arm crutches, but he hated the wheelchair and he could use the arm crutches and if he didn't than he wouldn't be able to, falling out of practice. He just hoped that shield had thought to bring him a chair, if not he would ask for one before he started, since he could ask for such things, perks of having a spinal injury. The elevator doors slid open to show the SUb-SUB basement. He looked around, very cloak and dagger. He missed his mansion. He went through about 9 security checks before he was allowed in to see the prisoner. He was in no way pleased by what he saw.


Loki, the Norse god was tied up and muzzled. He showed clear signs of having been electrocuted and his hair was burnt on the ends. He had an Iv in each arm and looked sort of out of it. Charles glared at the guard.


'You may go."


The guard looked like he wanted to argue but Charles casually scratched his temple and the guard fled. There was a metal table and a chair (thank god!) in the room and Charles went over to Loki and removed the muzzle before sitting himself down. He stared at the Norse god for a moment.


"My Name is Charles Xavier."


((@ChestPains ))
 
A scar like a long, branched tendril circled around from one shoulder blade, the rest decorating his back: a parting gift from the bolt of lighting Thor had used to allow SHIELD to genuinely apprehend Loki for the first time. The god's eyes and veins were practically black with the substance they were pumping into him to mute his magic, giving his skin the jaundiced color of spoiled milk.


Even so, his eyes tracked Xavier from the moment he entered the room, a sharp intelligence behind the drugged film. He made no move, not even a twitch, as the muzzle was removed, but swallowed once the bit was removed from between his teeth. Loki scoured the other male several times over: frail in body but tremendously strong in mind, something about this one simply wasn't human.


"SHIELD has sent you to interrogate me, I'm sure. Perhaps the next time they will begin with such a tactic instead of vastly underestimating my tolerance for pain."


Flexing his fingers as much as he could with a thick strap pinning his wrist and second knuckle to the table, Loki observed the crutches before meeting Xavier's eyes once more. "You are quite different." He remarked, voice slightly rusty from being silenced by the metal attachments to the muzzle that pressed against his vocal chords, making any sound impossible when they were correctly positioned. "I'm surprised to see SHIELD let one of her pets out of their crate. Or are you bound to return there at the spite of their clubs if you fail to extract information from me?" Quickly, Loki's voice was recovering its smoothness, his rich accent adding bite to his words.
 
Charles watched Loki from his side of the table the man was intriguing slim and slight, he looked at the Iv lines and set his file down. Clearing his throat. "I am not one of SHIELD's pit-bulls, and I do not think they would harm me what with the, eh, delicate political state. And of course I have a lawyer but as I have said it will not come to that. Have they been feeding you? Do you need to be feed? I'm sorry I know nothing about Joulton's physic. You would be fascinating to study." Every vein in his body screamed to release the man but SHIELD had him for a reason and if this all went the way Charles hoped he would bring him home to the manor. He just needed, faith trust, and possibly some pixie dust. He mused that both him and Loki could provided the last element, but it must be non-violent. That's where the Faith and the Trust came in.


Charles was not outside going against SHIELD he knew that they had a foot firmly in the mutant debate, he just wasn't sure what side yet, they thought that they could toy with him if they were on his side. They were wrong. You didn't put one over on a telepath. Speaking of telepathy... Charles let out a well controlled and focused tendril of telepathic empathy to Loki as he was waiting for him to answer, it wasn't invasive and he was confident that the God could cut it off, he wasn't reading thoughts, just Loki, his emotions and energy in the moment. It was childlike telepathy, he didn't need to raise his fingers to his temple, he only needed to do that when he did heavy weight stuff. He had been doing this since he was a baby.
 
"SHIELD is outsourcing?" The immortal managed a sarcastic scoff, though his eyes had rolled up to the ceiling before sliding shut, the haze of the drug a powerful tug at the back of his mind like the comfort of sleep. He fought it resolutely, alternating between flexing his fingers, toes, jaw, and blinking to keep himself awake. The electrocution certainly helped; he still felt the currents sizzling within his nerves, the singed scent of his own skin and hair am acrid aroma that hung heavily in the air. "Have they run out of ideas to torture me with so soon? I confess myself disappointed, though this would not be the first time SHIELD has fallen short of my expectations." Opening his eyes again with a sigh, Loki fixed Charles with a disinterested stare. "Of course they haven't. As for Jotun physiology, even advanced knowledge would do you no good. I am not wearing that skin--Odin was thorough in constructing this facade." The god ignored the conversational curiosity in the other's voice. He was not interested in discussing his true form nor any other small talk. It seemed the other was tiring of it as well, judging by the sudden unwelcome tendril of invisible power that brushed against his consciousness. The god's lip curled in a quiet snarl as he swatted away the inquisitive tentacle of thought, as he assumed the man would have expected. "A telepath," He concluded, the hint of a sarcastic smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Of course. Do be careful not to become lost within the dark confines of my mind." Loki dragged out the last word and widened his eyes for dramatic effect, sarcasm lacing his words.
 
Charles retracted his tendril. "I don't get lost in the mind of anyone whose permission I do not have, it's a touch too.... intimate? I was just taking a peek, scratch the surface empathy only just your emotions, just a peek. And, you didn't answer my question, do you need to be feed? or more rather, are they taking care of you? giving you what you need to be alive, I mean... obviously your care is... not perfect, but are you in immediate danger?" He sounded like a member of Amnesty International. He just needed to know before he did something drastic, which if Charles was to face it he was going to bring Loki to the manor, it was lonely... since...Erik had... Charles felt a twinge in his back that had nothing to do with the injury. After Erik had left the students had as well, Alex, Cassidy, Hank stopped in time to time to 'see how he was doing' and he had intended to start a school but, the house was so big and he couldn't just hop on a flight to find students, Hank was re-building Cerbro to help but still.
 
"How considerate of you." Loki's voice would have been a growl if not for the silkiness of his rich, cultured accent and the obvious control he possessed over his own voice and face. He had practiced for thousands of years to school exactly what showed through the deliberate cracks in his armor.


He was back on his fingers now. Perhaps they'd upped the dose; the movement was gradually becoming difficult. It felt like a great weight was positioned on his lungs, making breathing more a feat than an instinctual habit. He laughed breathlessly at the stranger's words, grinning up at the ceiling. "You must not be very familiar with SHIELD procedures," He mocked, "There is no Geneva Convention here. They will take whatever steps necessary to achieve their ends, though I do not claim to do the same. As for immediate danger, there are many who would, considering my past, claim I am in immediate danger at all times. Those who make many enemies by carving their own paths often tend to be."
 
Charles nodded in thought watching the other carefully he hoisted himself up to begin undoing the Iv's he thought they might have fluids before, maybe Loki was on hunger strike? He didn't know anything about the god, and he didn't know how to properly undo a Iv line so Loki now had a weird looking cut in each arm. He sat back down. "So, tell me Loki, what do you want? not overall, right now at this moment if anything could happen..." Charles frowned looking for the right words. "What would it be?" He was already planing his lecture to director Fury. But Fury didn't want to upset the activists, and the activists loved Charles. No matter what he thought of them, some of them at least could use a bit of a wake up. But Fury certainly couldn't touch him at the moment, and if all went the way Charles wanted he wouldn't be able to find him. Like he was going to let SHIELD know where he lived. All they knew was that he was very anoying about it. And there's where the activists lendea naive hand yet again.
 
Loki's sharp tongue was silenced in a mix of surprise and confusion as Charles began to do the IV lines, a grudging suspicion waking across the god's face. Playing the good cop was one thing, but handing one's enemy back their greatest weapon was another. The slight cuts left behind bled the black substance, which moved across one white forearm in a thick bead. "I could ask you the same thing," The god dodged easily, blinking through the slowly clearing haze that partially obscured his vision. His body had started building an immunity to the substance the instant it had entered it; on such a reduced dosage, it would be flushed out of his veins within the hour. "I doubt this is what dear Fury envisioned when he sent you to me. Do tell me--what do you hope to achieve by this act of foolish kindness? I assure you, I will make no attempt to staunch the flow from your bleeding heart, regardless of what you do."
 
Charles laughed. "Kindness is never foolish. And that's why it doesn't accomplish anything but memories." He smiled and got up "And I think you'll find that kindness, even one sided, makes friends. Something you need. Loki." Charles began to leave dropping a slip of paper down the back of Loki's tattered shirt. It was his businesses card and had his address on it. "See you around, I'll tell the director you had nothing of interest to say." He slipped into the worlds slowest elavotor and wondered what he had done. He shook his head. Nothing, he had interviewed the suspect, dropped his business card by mistake ("I have a spinal injury Director Fury I drop things") and done a kindness to a sufferer, how was he supposed to know they were pumping Loki full of compound 8991 used to torture mutants by suppressing their abilities in the first world war? And how would he know that it leaves you with flu like symptoms that knock you off your feet for a week? ("Director Fury, I didn't know he would come here, but in the state you left him in he probably just came to the first place he could think of") Or so Charles hoped. Oh what had he done?
 
Loki's narrowed eyes followed the man out of the padded cell, the paper of the man's card digging into the flayed, burnt wasteland the first attempts at torture had carved out of his back. They were all scabbed over now; even doped to the gills on a magic suppressant, Loki's body still possessed the quick healing abilities of the Aesir, boosted by the magic that was embedded in each bodily system. In this stare, there was a rare lack of venom, replaced instead by a reluctant curiosity.


***


It had taken less than four hours to escape--long enough to give Charles a head start and his body a chance to recover from the drug, but not so long that the missing IVs would be noticed--and after the quick dispatching of a half dozen guards that came after him, the immortal transported easily to the address he'd memorized the moment he'd drawn the card from the tattered fabric of the shirt they'd allowed him, flayed by the whips and burned by the acid.


Materializing in Charles' living room, he cast an eye about the decor before seeking out the man. "Weren't you ever taught how rude it is to terminate a conversation before it is through?" He flicked the card back towards its owner, silently accepting the invitation, as if his presence wasn't enough.
 
Charles smiled watching to god. "Well it was one sided so I deiced I might as well move it. Are you hungry?" Charles began to move past Loki through the lush and antiquity full Xavier Manor, he was sock footed now and dragged his feet with his crutches along the thick worn Tunisian carpet towards the kitchen. "I was going to put the kettle on for tea...." He treated Loki like any other guest though he had no doubt that there would be need for some arrangements and serious talks. Right now he just wanted some tea and to sit down on a chair not made from some sort of metal engineered to be harder than necessary. He couldn't help but feel self satisfied that Loki had come, though god only knew what havoc he would now bring down upon his house. Charles smirked, finally some excitement and someone who wouldn't think that he would break the second violence came into the picture. Not that he liked violence, just that he needed to show himself and others he could still handle it. Still take excitement. Still craved it. He wasn't so crippled by his wounds that he was of no use but to sit in his big house and rot.
 
"You dodge my questions," The god turned to follow Charles with his eyes, ignoring a faint pressure behind his eyes. It wouldn't surprise him if the drug had some sort of lasting effect, though he was sure he'd be rid of it soon. He'd yet to come across any human-created substance that could keep him down for long: Aesir bodies were built to resist poison, among other things. Lightning, he reflected ruefully, was not one of them: the parting gift Thor had left him with still ached and prickled when he moved, like a raw, chafing burn. "Why risk your comfort; your life, even, for one your government considers an enemy; one who has taken the lives of countless many of your species? A strong sense of conscious? I think not." Loki was used to strategy, to diplomacy; not acts borne of simple kindness. "And now that I have taken the bait, what have you planned? Tea?" The immortal cast a critical eye over the kettle's position before cutting Charles a suspicious glance--the man was truly odd; so powerful, even with his disability, though unwilling to show it through his ability.
 
Charles shrugged. "I like tea. You are going to need it when the after effects settle in and, I find you." Charles Turned just as the kettle boiled and began to prepare the tea with one hand carefully using the other to steady himself with his crutch. "Fascinating, and strangely human, such power and anger and pride.... you have a beautiful mind." Charles pushed a green mug to the side for Loki and a blue one for himself. Leaning against the counter he sipped at it. Tea, earl gray, hot. he sniffed it and turned his blue eyes to Loki's green ones. "What I have planed is to simply show you what humans are like up close, and gain for myself some noise in this quiet house, since you are the god of chaos yes? and with out a healthy douse of chaos humans and mutants wouldn't be around. Now, if you would be so kind a to carry my cup to the living room for me?"
 
"Effects," Loki echoed, offering no hand with the tea. It was fascinating, seeing how the other copes with his weak legs. If he had to define humans in one word, it would be 'stubborn'. "Do explain."


His brows lifted slightly at the other's confession, though not of surprise. "You know of me," Though the words were phrased like a question, they were spoken as a question. "I fascinate you. Why not, then, do as SHIELD asked and pick my mind apart as if it were some embalmed amphibian? Ah, yes--you are a polite man." On the word 'polite', Loki pointedly lifted both mugs and slipped back into the room he'd arrived in, gaze flicking back to Charles periodically to watch him move.


"I have many names," These words were joined by a mildly amused smile, as if the concept of humans giving him titles was almost too ridiculous to bear. "I have interacted with humans many thousands of times, including your culture's legendary poets and philosophers. What makes you believe you are somehow special enough to sway my opinion on your kind?"
 
Charles shrugged "I guess we shall see." Charles headed into his living room and plopped himself onto his couch slipping the crutches to the side he took the blue mug from Loki. He reached down with his free hand and pulled his legs into a crossed position settling back into the couch. "so, what is it that you are thinking, and do try not to take up to much of the time contemplating the irony of that question as I have indured that through much of my life. So tell me Loki, what are you thinking of, what will you do next?" Charles wished to know if Loki planed to stay with him and for how long. He tilted his head to the side watching Loki with keen interest and taking a delicate sip of his tea.
 
"I intend to remain here until you answer my questions. All of them." He added pointedly, patience beginning to wear thin as the other continued to blatantly ignore the majority of his guest's inquiries. Allowing the veneer of his clothing to change from the tatters SHIELD had left him in, Loki summoned his usual attire of black and green, forgoing the armor. It was unnecessary here; even if things turned violent, it wasn't his body that would take the damage. The god sat smoothly on the couch across from Charles, eyes trained on the man like a child might watch an animal they'd never seen before. "As you seem unable to respond to my questions in kind, I propose we trade--one question for one question; one answer for one answer." Loki spoke the language of deals--they all made sense to him, which he liked.
 
Charles raised an eyebrow and nodded slowly, "Well, then, why not? as it seems we are both incapable of answering the others questions, by your leave." Charles took another sip of his tea watching Loki's magic work carefully. "Of course if you need any medical attention that should be dealt with first." He said nodding his head at Loki, though if he could change his clothes with magic he might also be able to heal himself. Charles did not know, he was itching to study Loki's magic, was it genetic? What Genes did he have that allowed it? He had to stop himself, he couldn't just drag the other off to be hooked in to machines! that would be rather odd for what was essentially his first meeting with the man. All he could do for the moment was watch and note it all in his head.
 
"My wounds will heal quickly. Additional care is not necessary." The god dismissed the concern as one might brush a buzzing insect off their shoulder. Loki had once been worn down to bones and pride--he clung to the latter with claws that sank deep.


Loki smiled thinly as he noticed the other's interest in the transformation of his clothing, though no light entered his eyes from the curve of his lips. "Your questions will turn your tongue to ash if you let them burn it for too long. If you are curious about my magic, do ask. I intend to return the favor about your telepathy. It has been quite some time since I came across one, though I recall physical weakness was also then exchanged for mental prowess. Tell me, were you born with atrophy in your legs, or did you come across the condition by disease or injury?"
 
"Well that's good to hear about your wounds, and of course I will ask, it was your turn." Charles paused for a moment to think about it. "Injury." He moved around and contorted just a bit to show his lower back to Loki and slipped his shirt and cardigan up slightly to show the star scar to Loki from the bullet. He settled back into the cough twinging at the odd position he had been in. "Bullet. I was shot in the back and it caused a partial spinal fracture, I was lucky it was partial, I have sensation in places and can hold my weight under the right circumstances for a few seconds but walking is hard neigh impossible. I underwent intensive PT and was able to get out of my wheelchair but I still have it....in case.... I hate the thing though so I use crutches instead. I have muscle spasms and nerve pain from time to time as well, I exercise my legs daily to keep up strength, so I do not have to use the wheelchair." Charles was almost pleased Loki chose that question, most people skirted around it. "Do you play chess?" He asked as his question.
 
Despite himself, Loki found himself admiring the other man's strong spirit as he told the story of his wounded spine. There were many who would have been broken by such an event and would have allowed the crippled state of their body to in turn disable their mind. Again, humans were the epitome of stubbornness. It was nearly admirable, though it often lead to far more trouble than good. Instead of speaking these thoughts, the god simply crossed one leg casually over the other and tented his fingers on the upended knee. "I am familiar with the game, though it has been a great many years since I last played." Loki reflected upon sitting in endless loneliness in chestnut chambers, reading books on strategy and whatever else he could get his hands on. He had once been as insatiable for knowledge as he was now for revenge and bloodshed and the shatter of bone under his heel.
 
"I thought you would be." Charles smiled thinking about what a fun opponent Loki would be. It was Loki's turn for a question so he waited patiently sipping at his tea lazily. He watched Loki like a hawk though, he was as readable as a rock. Nowhere near an open book. He was like a snake. Charles almost frowned at his own simile, snake that was typical wasn't it, maybe more like a panther. No so much green and black, what was with the color choices anyways? Not that Charles thought green was a bad color for Loki and he himself was was partial to mostly just blue and gray tones of color in his dress. just like his eyes, which Loki seemed to do as well, since his eyes were green. Charles thought about this for a moment while he waited for Loki's question.
 
"Are you proposing a match, or simply laying in wait for the opportunity to ask one of the many questions that swim behind your eyes? Don't be shy, Xavier, I didn't take your invitation to be coddled." The smile the god gave with the tail end of these words was cold, but no more so than the rest he'd been dishing out all day, though these lacked the mocking pity he'd shown the SHIELD lackeys as they shook their fists in agony after having thrown useless punches against the strong bone of Loki's face. Emerald eyes raking over the twist of Charles' spine, the god spoke again, gaze not leaving its path as he did so. "Why were you shot?" Stories were stories, regardless of who they came from, and Loki relished any sound that differed from the rough, pitiful attempts at threatening shouting the agents charged with interrogating him had made.
 
Charles wavered. "I would play you in chess if you like, it was your turn for a question I'm playing by your rules, ask you to play and it wouldn't be my turn." Charles looked him down. "I was shot for many complicated reasons. One of them was kindness, laugh at that if you like, but it was no ones intention to shoot me. I was trying to stop someone else from being shot, he was doing fine preventing it on his own but wasn't letting me in his mind to show him where I was and his self prevention hit me in my spine. He was deflecting the bullets. Play chess with me?" He asked finally. setting his cup down and standing on his metal legs. "There's a board in the other room if you would like to." Charles wasn't much interested in Loki's past, not nearly as interested as Loki was in his own. No Loki was here right now and that is what he wanted to know about.
 
"I should hardly think those count as questions." Loki scolded lightly, like a parent calling out their child for a mistake they knew better than to make. He had expected more pressing questions than whether or not he knew of a Midgardian game. The man was doing little to make his race seem admirable, though his complete, polite disinterest in Loki's past was something he had not anticipated. There was more to this human than simple politeness, though he hid it quite well. The god rose, retrieved the board, and returned before Charles had finished adjusting his crutches for the singular desire to save time. He'd have many opportunities to watch the man climb over obstacles, he expected. Setting the board with long, deft fingers, Loki chose white and slid one knight out from behind the wall of pawns before the board floated across the room to position itself before Charles, guided by the gentle movements of Loki's upturned palm. "Why were you trying to protect that man?"
 
"Because he was wrong and he was doing the wrong thing." Charles moved a pawn one space. "And I wanted him to do the right thing." He leaned back, and thought for a minute about what to say next. "Why do you hate humans so much? What did we we do so long ago as a spices to deserve it? the modern human isn't perfect, but neither are you. So why us?" Charles settled in to his couch again and re positioned his legs so that he was curled up around himself and reached toward his tea to take another sip. "Oh, and thank yo by the way for getting the board." He smiled, Charles didn't really need help, he prided himself on that, but it was nice to have. Some people were completely unsure about weather or not to help him, and if it would offend him, Loki didn't seem to have that problem. He just wanted to help him to help himself, even just to save a few minutes of time it would take Charles to move to the next room.
 
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