Post by airlock on Aug 3, 2006 12:43:37 GMT -5
Lars Anderssen was eighteen years old the day he visited the Xavier Institute for Gifted Youngsters. The whole concept made him feel faintly uncomfortable. One, he was not young, not like some of the kids who were running around. Two, he was not 'Gifted', at least not normally.
He'd received the phone call from Professor Xavier a few days previously, and had agreed to visit the place and see what it was all about. He'd chosen to dress smartly for the occasion. From an early age, Lars had shown great fashion sense and he was dressed in a smart pair of trousers, a crisp, white shirt and a maroon-coloured tie. It made him look older than his eighteen years and had already won him more than one admiring glance from the girls here at the Mansion.
This would normally have left him feeling good about everything, but he felt uncomfortable, uncertain and, unusually for him, unhappy.
He had to try hard not to be unhappy. When he was unhappy, oxygen levels in the immediate vicinity tended to drop dramatically and people started suffering. So he forced a smile onto his face, a spring into his step and raised his hand to knock on the door of the office that he had been directed to.
Professor Xavier's deep, friendly voice with a rather noticeable Scottish accent sounded from within the room, bidding Lars to enter. As the young man opened the door, he could see a considerable sized table, and behind it was sitting a man in a white suit, perhaps in his late forties or so. He had a shaved bald head and intelligent, attentive eyes - eyes that were focused directly at Lars. He smiled, a kindly sort of a smile.
“Lars Anderssen,” the man spoke in a friendly manner. “Welcome. I am so glad you found the time.”
"Not at all, sir," replied the young man in a polite tone. His voice was accented as well; faintly Scandinavian, but with all the signs that he was becoming an assimilated American swiftly. From Xavier's research into the young man, he wasn't the most academic, although certainly not through lack of trying. He had his name down to study building and architecture.
He stood now, just inside the office, not wanting to sit down until invited to do so. In a couple of years, the Professor would meet a young, well-mannered boy named Bobby Drake who would remind him of this young Swede.
Lars looked awkward and uncertain and the Professor became vaguely aware of a change in the atmospherics inside the room.
"Please," the Professor said, smiling in his usual way, motioning to a chair, "make yourself comfortable." He didn't appear especially worried about the change, or if he was, he hid it well. "And do calm down." He paused for a moment. "I called you because I think I can help you."
"Help me?" Lars' brow furrowed noticeably as he slid into the seat opposite Xavier at the desk. "I'm not entirely sure I understand what you mean, sir."
With a concerted effort, he got himself calmed down. Over the last couple of years, Lars had learned to keep his mood upbeat. It seemed to have more of a positive effect not only on himself, but those around him. And unlike the tree-hugging hippy types who would have said something Zen like 'behaviour breeds behaviour', Lars knew that there was more to it than that. He suspected that this Professor guy knew it, too. Playing dumb was simply his first line of defence.
Professor Xavier studied Lars with his brown eyes for a long time, and the look in those eyes gave the distinct impression that he could see to Lars' very soul. If that was so, however, it was impossible to tell exactly what he was thinking about it. A smile tugged on one corner of the Professor's mouth and then he was quite matter-of-fact again, his other hand raising up in an elegant gesture.
So did a water jar and a chalice on a nearby table.
"A drink?" the Professor offered, with the same kind, calm voice even as the water jar and the chalice made their slow way across the room toward Lars, as though carried by invisible hands.
Lars did what any other normal person would do given the circumstances.
He panicked.
However, unlike any other normal person, this meant that he lost his concentration, an important and fundamental necessity for someone who had to maintain the right oxygen level around themselves. In a few short seconds he was gasping for breath, and it was only with an extreme effort that he managed to stop himself passing out on the Professor's desk. For a brief moment, he swung his level too far the other way and went all lightheaded - which had almost the same effect.
"You know about me," he said, simply. "How did you do that?"
A look of concern went through the Professor’s eyes when Lars panicked and his power went out of control for a moment. The water jar and chalice jerked a little in the air when the oxygen level changes affected the man as well, even if not as strongly. Xavier put the jar and the chalice on the desk, not far from Lars as though in a silent offer.
“I have many powers,” he said just as simply. A smile lingered on his face. “Perhaps you now understand why I said I could help you. Your power… I can help you harness it, learn to use it…” his eyes looked at Lars with a significant expression, “not hurt yourself or others with it.”
"I don't have powers," denied Lars, in the face of rather overwhelming evidence (at this particular moment his face rather pink from alternating personal oxygen levels). "There's nothing wrong with me. It's all in my mind. If I ignore it, it'll go away..."
He continued in this vein for a few moments before petering out. "What IS wrong with me?" he asked, eventually, looking deeply ashamed.
The Professor shook his head, looking at the same time kind and sad.
“Nothing, Lars,” he said calmly. “Nothing is wrong with you. You are just, gifted.” He smiled a little. “Gifted in a way many, many others are these days. It is, if you will, the next step in evolution.” He lifted up the water jar again with his powers, poured himself a glass and then called the glass into his hand, taking a sip. “Our kind are everywhere. It is not a disease you are suffering of. It is who you are. But you need to learn to use it.” He paused. “I can teach you. I can also tell you everything you need to know about our kind.”
"Um, would you mind not doing that, it sort of freaks me out," said Lars when the water moved without intervention of kinetic force. Then he raised his eyes and looked the Professor directly in the eyes for the first time since his arrival.
When people looked into Lars' eyes, they noticed two things.
They noticed what a *clear* crystal blue they were.
Then they noticed that there was a distinct change in pressure around them. Usually this was for the better; Lars was, fortunately, a happy individual and someone's personal oxygen level was more likely to increase than decrease. But with that one look, the Professor realised the full potential extent of the young man's powers.
"I'm not sure..." Lars was obviously confused about the issue. "I'm not the brightest, Professor Xavier, but I really want to be an architect. I got offered a place at college and it's been really hard, I'm dyslexic, see." He sighed, and the atmosphere around the Professor felt heavier. "I don't want to lose my chance."
Charles Xavier felt the change in the air, and brushed his forehead in passing, almost as though he might have rid himself of the pressure by this gesture. Worry entered his well-trained mind as he realised that Lars' powers would make it harder than normal to convince him, since if he felt very threatened, he would essentially make it more difficult for the Professor to keep his mind clear. He still didn't turn his eyes away from the boy, though he somehow guessed that this would have made it a little easier to avoid the effects of Lars' powers. Here his confidence worked against him.
"I realise I cannot offer you the same kind of training here for a career as you would receive outside. But Lars, here you could become something special. You could achieve so much. And more importantly, you would learn to control your powers, and you wouldn't hurt people anymore accidentally." The Professor touched his forehead again, meaning to keep a small pause but ending up stopping altogether. What was he saying again? He couldn't quite concentrate.
"There's more, Professor Xavier. I don't know how deep into my history you've gone - clearly a little way since you know about...ah...hurting people. But I'm a haemophiliac. I have to spend my life virtually wrapped in cotton wool." He got up from his seat and began pacing a little. The Professor felt the lift in air pressure as Lars' attention came off him.
"So ... I really appreciate the offer, and I don't want to be ungrateful..." He sighed and closed his eyes, aware that his darkening mood was having an adverse effect. "I believe that someday, someone's going to find a way to overcome this mutation thing. I'll wait for that. I wouldn't fit in, Professor, really I wouldn't."
The Professor breathed a little easier for the while Lars' attention was off him, but the darkening mood was not making it smooth for him. He looked at Lars, a rather sad expression on his face now.
"It is, of course, your decision," he said - he would never force anyone to join him, that was not his way. "But I worry that you may come to regret it. The mutation, as everyone have chosen to call it, is not something that should be overcome, and I do not believe it even could be. It is not a disease, Lars. It is who we are. It cannot be cured any more than it can be just, forgotten."
"My haemophilia can't be cured, either," countered the young man. "And I've learned to live with it and cope with it. I can do the same with this 'gift' as you call it. But...well, I appreciate your concern. And I know where you are if I need you...right?"
He smiled and for the briefest of moments, there was the buzz of happiness in the air. "Keep it jovial," he said. "My mantra, Professor Xavier. When I'm happy, everything around me is good."
The Professor was again affected by the change in atmosphere, giving a laugh. It worried him that he was allowing Lars' powers affect him so, and tried to get himself back under control. He wanted to argue with the boy, give him reasons to stay, but there seemed to be very little he could say. And usually, a little time to think helped. So he nodded slowly.
"If this is your decision," he said. "I will not meddle with it. But do remember us. The school will always remain open for you."
"Thank you," said Lars, and he sounded genuine. "You've been more than generous - and I really appreciate your kindness. I will bear the invitation in mind."
He got to his feet. "I'll show myself out," he said, his tone friendly. "I remember the way."
The Professor nodded.
"Good luck to you, Lars," he said, and watched the boy go.
He'd received the phone call from Professor Xavier a few days previously, and had agreed to visit the place and see what it was all about. He'd chosen to dress smartly for the occasion. From an early age, Lars had shown great fashion sense and he was dressed in a smart pair of trousers, a crisp, white shirt and a maroon-coloured tie. It made him look older than his eighteen years and had already won him more than one admiring glance from the girls here at the Mansion.
This would normally have left him feeling good about everything, but he felt uncomfortable, uncertain and, unusually for him, unhappy.
He had to try hard not to be unhappy. When he was unhappy, oxygen levels in the immediate vicinity tended to drop dramatically and people started suffering. So he forced a smile onto his face, a spring into his step and raised his hand to knock on the door of the office that he had been directed to.
Professor Xavier's deep, friendly voice with a rather noticeable Scottish accent sounded from within the room, bidding Lars to enter. As the young man opened the door, he could see a considerable sized table, and behind it was sitting a man in a white suit, perhaps in his late forties or so. He had a shaved bald head and intelligent, attentive eyes - eyes that were focused directly at Lars. He smiled, a kindly sort of a smile.
“Lars Anderssen,” the man spoke in a friendly manner. “Welcome. I am so glad you found the time.”
"Not at all, sir," replied the young man in a polite tone. His voice was accented as well; faintly Scandinavian, but with all the signs that he was becoming an assimilated American swiftly. From Xavier's research into the young man, he wasn't the most academic, although certainly not through lack of trying. He had his name down to study building and architecture.
He stood now, just inside the office, not wanting to sit down until invited to do so. In a couple of years, the Professor would meet a young, well-mannered boy named Bobby Drake who would remind him of this young Swede.
Lars looked awkward and uncertain and the Professor became vaguely aware of a change in the atmospherics inside the room.
"Please," the Professor said, smiling in his usual way, motioning to a chair, "make yourself comfortable." He didn't appear especially worried about the change, or if he was, he hid it well. "And do calm down." He paused for a moment. "I called you because I think I can help you."
"Help me?" Lars' brow furrowed noticeably as he slid into the seat opposite Xavier at the desk. "I'm not entirely sure I understand what you mean, sir."
With a concerted effort, he got himself calmed down. Over the last couple of years, Lars had learned to keep his mood upbeat. It seemed to have more of a positive effect not only on himself, but those around him. And unlike the tree-hugging hippy types who would have said something Zen like 'behaviour breeds behaviour', Lars knew that there was more to it than that. He suspected that this Professor guy knew it, too. Playing dumb was simply his first line of defence.
Professor Xavier studied Lars with his brown eyes for a long time, and the look in those eyes gave the distinct impression that he could see to Lars' very soul. If that was so, however, it was impossible to tell exactly what he was thinking about it. A smile tugged on one corner of the Professor's mouth and then he was quite matter-of-fact again, his other hand raising up in an elegant gesture.
So did a water jar and a chalice on a nearby table.
"A drink?" the Professor offered, with the same kind, calm voice even as the water jar and the chalice made their slow way across the room toward Lars, as though carried by invisible hands.
Lars did what any other normal person would do given the circumstances.
He panicked.
However, unlike any other normal person, this meant that he lost his concentration, an important and fundamental necessity for someone who had to maintain the right oxygen level around themselves. In a few short seconds he was gasping for breath, and it was only with an extreme effort that he managed to stop himself passing out on the Professor's desk. For a brief moment, he swung his level too far the other way and went all lightheaded - which had almost the same effect.
"You know about me," he said, simply. "How did you do that?"
A look of concern went through the Professor’s eyes when Lars panicked and his power went out of control for a moment. The water jar and chalice jerked a little in the air when the oxygen level changes affected the man as well, even if not as strongly. Xavier put the jar and the chalice on the desk, not far from Lars as though in a silent offer.
“I have many powers,” he said just as simply. A smile lingered on his face. “Perhaps you now understand why I said I could help you. Your power… I can help you harness it, learn to use it…” his eyes looked at Lars with a significant expression, “not hurt yourself or others with it.”
"I don't have powers," denied Lars, in the face of rather overwhelming evidence (at this particular moment his face rather pink from alternating personal oxygen levels). "There's nothing wrong with me. It's all in my mind. If I ignore it, it'll go away..."
He continued in this vein for a few moments before petering out. "What IS wrong with me?" he asked, eventually, looking deeply ashamed.
The Professor shook his head, looking at the same time kind and sad.
“Nothing, Lars,” he said calmly. “Nothing is wrong with you. You are just, gifted.” He smiled a little. “Gifted in a way many, many others are these days. It is, if you will, the next step in evolution.” He lifted up the water jar again with his powers, poured himself a glass and then called the glass into his hand, taking a sip. “Our kind are everywhere. It is not a disease you are suffering of. It is who you are. But you need to learn to use it.” He paused. “I can teach you. I can also tell you everything you need to know about our kind.”
"Um, would you mind not doing that, it sort of freaks me out," said Lars when the water moved without intervention of kinetic force. Then he raised his eyes and looked the Professor directly in the eyes for the first time since his arrival.
When people looked into Lars' eyes, they noticed two things.
They noticed what a *clear* crystal blue they were.
Then they noticed that there was a distinct change in pressure around them. Usually this was for the better; Lars was, fortunately, a happy individual and someone's personal oxygen level was more likely to increase than decrease. But with that one look, the Professor realised the full potential extent of the young man's powers.
"I'm not sure..." Lars was obviously confused about the issue. "I'm not the brightest, Professor Xavier, but I really want to be an architect. I got offered a place at college and it's been really hard, I'm dyslexic, see." He sighed, and the atmosphere around the Professor felt heavier. "I don't want to lose my chance."
Charles Xavier felt the change in the air, and brushed his forehead in passing, almost as though he might have rid himself of the pressure by this gesture. Worry entered his well-trained mind as he realised that Lars' powers would make it harder than normal to convince him, since if he felt very threatened, he would essentially make it more difficult for the Professor to keep his mind clear. He still didn't turn his eyes away from the boy, though he somehow guessed that this would have made it a little easier to avoid the effects of Lars' powers. Here his confidence worked against him.
"I realise I cannot offer you the same kind of training here for a career as you would receive outside. But Lars, here you could become something special. You could achieve so much. And more importantly, you would learn to control your powers, and you wouldn't hurt people anymore accidentally." The Professor touched his forehead again, meaning to keep a small pause but ending up stopping altogether. What was he saying again? He couldn't quite concentrate.
"There's more, Professor Xavier. I don't know how deep into my history you've gone - clearly a little way since you know about...ah...hurting people. But I'm a haemophiliac. I have to spend my life virtually wrapped in cotton wool." He got up from his seat and began pacing a little. The Professor felt the lift in air pressure as Lars' attention came off him.
"So ... I really appreciate the offer, and I don't want to be ungrateful..." He sighed and closed his eyes, aware that his darkening mood was having an adverse effect. "I believe that someday, someone's going to find a way to overcome this mutation thing. I'll wait for that. I wouldn't fit in, Professor, really I wouldn't."
The Professor breathed a little easier for the while Lars' attention was off him, but the darkening mood was not making it smooth for him. He looked at Lars, a rather sad expression on his face now.
"It is, of course, your decision," he said - he would never force anyone to join him, that was not his way. "But I worry that you may come to regret it. The mutation, as everyone have chosen to call it, is not something that should be overcome, and I do not believe it even could be. It is not a disease, Lars. It is who we are. It cannot be cured any more than it can be just, forgotten."
"My haemophilia can't be cured, either," countered the young man. "And I've learned to live with it and cope with it. I can do the same with this 'gift' as you call it. But...well, I appreciate your concern. And I know where you are if I need you...right?"
He smiled and for the briefest of moments, there was the buzz of happiness in the air. "Keep it jovial," he said. "My mantra, Professor Xavier. When I'm happy, everything around me is good."
The Professor was again affected by the change in atmosphere, giving a laugh. It worried him that he was allowing Lars' powers affect him so, and tried to get himself back under control. He wanted to argue with the boy, give him reasons to stay, but there seemed to be very little he could say. And usually, a little time to think helped. So he nodded slowly.
"If this is your decision," he said. "I will not meddle with it. But do remember us. The school will always remain open for you."
"Thank you," said Lars, and he sounded genuine. "You've been more than generous - and I really appreciate your kindness. I will bear the invitation in mind."
He got to his feet. "I'll show myself out," he said, his tone friendly. "I remember the way."
The Professor nodded.
"Good luck to you, Lars," he said, and watched the boy go.