07-31-2015, 01:18 AM
Pale brown eyes slowly slid to his left, his mind sinking into the fresh feeling of spiked chills and sharpened needles. Dark and foreboding, with the allure of a haunting madness, the mutant sought to greet its source, yet as his eyes touched upon it just above his shoulder, all that remained of the prickling presence he had once felt, was but simple air.
The sense stayed with him like a filmy coating on the room. Devastation, destruction, and death; he rarely misread the signals. A gentle analyzing gaze swept over the room and grazed for a moment on the cobblestone lining the walls. Mighty and tall silhouettes had gathered around a circular table made of rich burgundy wood. Utterance of justice and postponed malice, the mutterings of peace and war, and the sorrows of a lost land all broke the never-silence that consumed the distant room. This was an important meeting; the leaders among him were discussing fate like some sort of romantic and chivalrous honor, as though it were only ever intended to be seized. The Kingdom, the Omniverse, and words of an uprising came and passed, fleeting as fragrance on summer wind.
The well-known individual to his left noticed the subtle stir in his own calm demeanor, a man he had, in time, come to know. Few words on the knight’s mind needed to be spoken and the respect they had for one another was one shared. Following the Professor’s discerning shift was a small exchange in a low, charismatic voice that released Charles from his compelled place at the table. And carefully, his eyes revolved around the room once more before he set motion to his wheels.
Streams of time breached the vague current of veiled thought and swirled around him, while he was, at the same time, cast aside by the bumpy path that his dented utility had grown too used to. Obscured and sharpened rocks had jolted him along the way. Castles - or towers, for that matter - provided an excellent perch from above, and the world grew ever clearer as he rolled up the gentle incline to the ramparts. After a brief pause, he took in the scent of the distant earthy breeze and witnessed the vibrant life of primitive Camelot; his searching eyes tensed as he reached out to grasp the source of the darkness that had come to fall.
Cerebro. The straps hitching him in, the whisking sounds of whirling wisps paired with every mutant interaction. While the Professor did not have that here, the same disadvantage had given him the opportunity to hone his skill even more.
He closed his eyes and opened his mind. Finally, he was awake.
The jumbled sighs of man howled for miles, clear as sun’s rays under the soft blue skies filled with velvet wind. Suddenly, however, the Professor felt a heavy cloud blanket the grassy land, enveloping his true senses with the shrill throes of impending destruction.
His eyes wavered with a sharp cringe yet he faced the same direction with his gaze closed as the the target's clarity grew with every resounding action, like ripples in a puddle. Almost as subtly as wind, a soul breathed its last and a sense of mournful weeping gusted with the trees.
In the town, eyes of the citizens turned toward the masked man, all prying, shooting poisonous daggers, or flaunting snarling sneers. A few turned their heads robotically, as though their motor functions were heeded by curt movements under their restricting skin.
Venomous eyes, suddenly vacant were filled once more as his mind reached out to them. It wasn’t uncommon for the Professor to sense a threatening prime and warn the lost dweller to cease violence. All from obscure worlds, set together by the figure cloaked in white. Primes were confused, disoriented, like so many mutants he had met and helping just one gave him hope for a better future. The Professor could not see who had done the killing, it was almost as though the citizens were blind, however the gushing wavelength of grief had washed over a single man, and Xavier could feel the weight of a child in his arms grow accompanied with a sorrow that weighed heavier than the world on Atlas's shoulders.
The same words gelled together, propelling from their lips not in unison, but one after the other like the cascading fall of a domino. The vague words sounded familiar.
“Stop this at once.”
The sense stayed with him like a filmy coating on the room. Devastation, destruction, and death; he rarely misread the signals. A gentle analyzing gaze swept over the room and grazed for a moment on the cobblestone lining the walls. Mighty and tall silhouettes had gathered around a circular table made of rich burgundy wood. Utterance of justice and postponed malice, the mutterings of peace and war, and the sorrows of a lost land all broke the never-silence that consumed the distant room. This was an important meeting; the leaders among him were discussing fate like some sort of romantic and chivalrous honor, as though it were only ever intended to be seized. The Kingdom, the Omniverse, and words of an uprising came and passed, fleeting as fragrance on summer wind.
The well-known individual to his left noticed the subtle stir in his own calm demeanor, a man he had, in time, come to know. Few words on the knight’s mind needed to be spoken and the respect they had for one another was one shared. Following the Professor’s discerning shift was a small exchange in a low, charismatic voice that released Charles from his compelled place at the table. And carefully, his eyes revolved around the room once more before he set motion to his wheels.
Streams of time breached the vague current of veiled thought and swirled around him, while he was, at the same time, cast aside by the bumpy path that his dented utility had grown too used to. Obscured and sharpened rocks had jolted him along the way. Castles - or towers, for that matter - provided an excellent perch from above, and the world grew ever clearer as he rolled up the gentle incline to the ramparts. After a brief pause, he took in the scent of the distant earthy breeze and witnessed the vibrant life of primitive Camelot; his searching eyes tensed as he reached out to grasp the source of the darkness that had come to fall.
Cerebro. The straps hitching him in, the whisking sounds of whirling wisps paired with every mutant interaction. While the Professor did not have that here, the same disadvantage had given him the opportunity to hone his skill even more.
He closed his eyes and opened his mind. Finally, he was awake.
The jumbled sighs of man howled for miles, clear as sun’s rays under the soft blue skies filled with velvet wind. Suddenly, however, the Professor felt a heavy cloud blanket the grassy land, enveloping his true senses with the shrill throes of impending destruction.
His eyes wavered with a sharp cringe yet he faced the same direction with his gaze closed as the the target's clarity grew with every resounding action, like ripples in a puddle. Almost as subtly as wind, a soul breathed its last and a sense of mournful weeping gusted with the trees.
In the town, eyes of the citizens turned toward the masked man, all prying, shooting poisonous daggers, or flaunting snarling sneers. A few turned their heads robotically, as though their motor functions were heeded by curt movements under their restricting skin.
Venomous eyes, suddenly vacant were filled once more as his mind reached out to them. It wasn’t uncommon for the Professor to sense a threatening prime and warn the lost dweller to cease violence. All from obscure worlds, set together by the figure cloaked in white. Primes were confused, disoriented, like so many mutants he had met and helping just one gave him hope for a better future. The Professor could not see who had done the killing, it was almost as though the citizens were blind, however the gushing wavelength of grief had washed over a single man, and Xavier could feel the weight of a child in his arms grow accompanied with a sorrow that weighed heavier than the world on Atlas's shoulders.
The same words gelled together, propelling from their lips not in unison, but one after the other like the cascading fall of a domino. The vague words sounded familiar.
“Stop this at once.”
![[Image: -Gildarts-fairy-tail-35651033-300-180.gif]](http://images6.fanpop.com/image/photos/35600000/-Gildarts-fairy-tail-35651033-300-180.gif)
"I have never met a strong person with an easy past." -Atticus