Re-Entry 09: Video/Spam

[itstopped]

((Backdated a couple of days to take place after this.))

[Lab and Engine Room Filters]

[Felix, probably unsurprisingly, hasn't let the incident in the CES deter him much. He's still been at work on time every day, seemingly perfectly composed, as ready as ever to keep the ship running and prepare for the port. The only difference at all is that he doesn't go to the CES anymore.

Today, though, he looks rather distracted.]

I'm sorry for the short notice, but I need the day off today. I can tell you why tomorrow.

[Or show them, he hopes.

He hesitates, then switches to--]

[Private to Barbara]

Did you know there was a healer on board?

[Open Spam]

[The process takes a while, and it hurts more than he expected it would... but then, how do you anticipate something like this? For everything he's seen on the Barge, wonders and horrors alike, and even after seeing Charles healed, he'd never even imagined this would be possible until Merlin mentioned it only a few hours ago. He hasn't even really come to grips with the idea before it's happening, before this beneficent stranger's blood is moving into his veins, and suddenly his right leg feels like it's on fire, and--

--then it's now, and he's walking on two legs for the first time in a year. Slowly, carefully. He's not used to it anymore. He's gotten accustomed to the limp. This feels too light and too heavy at the same time -- more volume, less weight -- and the skin, he has skin again, feels too raw, and nothing feels quite as right as he thought it would. But his ankle bends where it's supposed to, and he can feel it when it does. He can walk. He can run, at least once he gets used to it again.

He ends up literally walking the entirety of the Barge, up one deck and down the next. By the time he gets to Level Eight, it's finally sunk in and he's jogging, just because he can.]

[Friends filter -- if you think you're on it, etc.]

[After that, he's kind of exhausted, but in a good way. He's flushed, smiling, bright-eyed like he hasn't been since the flood where he wasn't even himself.]

Hey. Something happened.

Comments

[deshabille]

Mm.

[She doesn't seem particularly moved by this, neither impressed nor put off. There's no indication one way or another whether she knew it already (she did, more or less), or whether she thinks it's a bad or good thing (she doesn't think it's either). After a moment, she shrugs and acquiesces.]

That's just - information. Not inherently evil or good, if we're going to use those terms. It's something you did. It's not a reason.

[itstopped]

Oh, yes, of course. That's the progressive way of thinking about it around here. [He sounds a little snide; he can't quite help it. He's gone a long time assuming that was the reason, that the wardens who voiced her opinion were just pandering to him or being wishy-washy. He softens a little, shrugs.] But apparently the Admiral agrees with you, since Margaret made it to your side of the fence.

[deshabille]

Is it? I don't particularly care either way.

[About any of it. She really doesn't. She would be as interested in Racetrack if she were an inmate; same for Felix, if he were a warden. It doesn't actually matter to her. Distinctions between good and evil are, for the most part, arbitrary. She is here despite the fact that it makes her uneasy, because she's stubborn, not because she thinks the Admiral is in any way in the right.]

[This is probably hypocritical in some way, but she also doesn't care about that.]

I'd be lying if I said I wasn't keen on learning the details, and I'm sure you'd know I was lying. [Because, speaking of keen, here's Felix.] So I won't. I'll just say - I don't like one person making decisions about the fates of a lot of other people. It never ends well. If that's progressive, well. [She shrugs.] People have called me worse.

[itstopped]

[It's pretty hypocritical, enough that the softer side fades again, eyes narrowing slightly, although his tone is still light. Almost more teasing than angry. Almost. Mostly.] I don't like one person making decisions about the fates of a lot of other people... and yet you're here.

[deshabille]

And yet I'm here.

[She tilts her head.]

Which bothers you. You don't know me, but it bothers you. Is it the principle of the thing?

[itstopped]

Yes. [He says it plainly, honestly, because it's one of the few things he can be truly honest about. He's a man of principles. His idealism may be broken now, but his convictions aren't.]

So what is it? The deal?

[deshabille]

[It's a good answer. Good enough, anyway. She nods, and gives him one in return.]

My country's been at war for - [A pause. She thinks.] A long time. More than a century, I think. [Not that she particularly trusts history as written in Borogravia.]

It's essentially destroyed. Land and people. I'm here to - well. To feed them. While we make peace. [Or try to.]

[She watches Felix during all of this. She isn't moved, one way or another, if he thinks this is a right or wrong thing to do on the back of another person. She thinks that she might have ended up here either way, in the end. But at this time in this place, this is what she's doing. He can't change her mind.]

[itstopped]

[It doesn't prove to be a very entertaining or rewarding show, because his face doesn't give much of anything away, and he seems similarly unmoved. He doesn't think much of it, to be honest, one way or the other. His empathy, since the Fall of the Colonies, has become... limited. His people have only been at war for four years, but that's been more than enough to jade him to the subject. He knows what it's like to struggle to feed a starving people. To fight for land, water, fuel... even air.

Then again--] At least you're honest about it.

[deshabille]

[She frowns, quirking an eyebrow.]

Sorry to have disappointed you, if you expected a lie.

[Honestly, with someone else, she might have. But she thinks Felix would have sniffed it out.]

Do most wardens lie about their deals?

[itstopped]

No, but they lie about that being the reason. There's a lot of, 'oh, I just want to help, someone has to look after you inmates, if I don't do it someone worse will." And so on. They don't want to admit there's a quid pro quo. They don't want to seem selfish.

[deshabille]

Oh, that.

[She can't quite keep from laughing. On the one hand, she's surprised. On the other, she's not at all. That's precisely the kind of altruistic statement she very much didn't believe coming from Charles Xavier's mouth.]

Everyone's selfish. Anyone who says he's not is selfish and a liar. I might've come anyway, eventually, but the reason I accepted the offer now was the deal.

[itstopped]

[He actually grins at the laugh, because he gets why she does it. His image is less of Charles -- who he knows is more selfish than he lets on -- than of Jean Grey, but who doesn't have an image of some warden in their head at dialogue like that?]

You could still be a liar, of course.

[deshabille]

I am a liar.

[She shrugs.]

The vast majority of the time. I just don't lie about being self-serving.

[itstopped]

Well, that makes two of us, I suppose.

[deshabille]

And how are you self-serving?

[It's a tease, really; she doesn't expect a straight answer, and she's content with not getting one.]