milliways_bar | (no subject)

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A woman walks into the bar. Redhead, appears under the age of thirty, wearing a turquoise dress with black polka dots, a pair of stylish black heels. If one looks very close, those might be a pair of Death Stars hanging from her ears; in all other respects, though, the woman looks composed and collected. Maybe even a touch reserved.

Any resemblance to a certain redhead drunkenly singing Queen, and then various Soviet songs a few nights ago is clearly just a coincidence.

Clearly.

Nadine makes her way over to the Bar, and requests not food nor drink, but one Charles Xavier's thesis. The document appearing, she finds herself a table and starts to idly flick through. It's something to read while she decides what to eat.

(And she wants to get an idea of how the man thinks before she decides on how to handle a telepath.)

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X approaches from the left, head tilting very slightly as she gets closer.

She may be trying to guess when Nadine is from.

For instance.

The flick of her gaze across the thesis Nadine is regarding is something, at least.

"You are working?"

It's a reasonably safe place to start. Maybe.

Modern clothes, a stronger scent of plastic and fake materials as opposed to genuine: chances are high for her being the modern one.

She glances up, and her smile is genuinely friendly. Small, but she likes X.

"Not really. This is more for Milliways-related interest."

X's head tilts a little, and she studies Nadine for a few moments.

Something in the set of her shoulders relaxes, infinitesimally.

"You are interested in genetic mutation? Here."

Does she mind if X sits down?

"You can sit, if you aren't busy," she says, and then tilts her fingers this way and that.

"I am interested, but I'm also interested in the way the author thinks. Always good to try and work out what a telepath's opinions are."

She sits, the motion quick and economical as ever.

"Telepaths can be problematic. Or irritating."

X's expression remains composed.

"I know him. Charles."

Beat.

"Here, too."

It makes a difference.

"I don't like people in my-" She pauses.

"Different times, or alternate versions?"

(It is, maybe, a subject that's been on her mind as of late)

"I do not like it, either. It -- there are things other telepaths can do. To help. It makes you more difficult to read. But you have to trust them. First."

That is hard.

As for Charles --

"It is both. They have different sisters, the Charleses I know. And they are not from the same time. He is young. Here. Less sure."

Beat.

"I think that is better. For people who are uncomfortable."

There are many reasons for that.

Yeah, that...trust thing.

And yet...

"More flexible attitude isn't a bad thing," is what she says eventually.

"No," X agrees.

"He will listen. Sometimes. When you tell him he is wrong."

This is quite a change from the Charles X knows. (He is not the only one for whom this is true, either. Thanks, comics-verse.)

"Good," she says, slowly. Then,

"What can he do?"

X hesitates, thinking it over.

Then --

"He can do many things. It -- "

Words are difficult.

"He can read your mind. Even things you do not know you know. And he can make you think things. He can find people, too. And there are other things. They are more difficult to explain."

This pause is longer.

"Distance is not much of a factor. At home. He is older there."

She turns that over in her mind, and nods.

"I don't like being tripped up by things I've been forced to forget," is what she says. "But letting someone else in is a different matter."

There is a pause.

"Clint - uh, my...partner, he said he met a woman who had my married name. I don't remember this place at all. But I don't know if that means I've been made to forget, or if she is from another world."

"He helped my brother. Logan. With things he forgot," X offers.

In case it is relevant.

Then she hesitates, biting her lip.

"I met her, too. Here. And your scent is similar."

Beat.

"That is not always relevant. Here."

Then again, sometimes it is.

"Ah.

Damn."

Then,

"...Do you have any idea what happens when if someone accidentally runs into their younger or older self?"

"Sometimes one of them forgets. Or both. Or two separate timelines result. Or it has already happened and you remember afterward."

X pauses to consider this, then offers a one-shouldered shrug.

"I have crossed my own timeline. Before. And others, too. But I do not know if the effect changes in Milliways."

"Well.

At least the universe is already ending."

"It does that at home, too," X says, matter-of-factly.

"Usually someone stops it. Sometimes it is us. The X-men."

Sometimes it is the Avengers. Sometimes it is the Nova Corps. Sometimes it's someone else.

The woman also known as the Black Widow looks pained.

"I do not even want to contemplate how much paperwork that'd produce."

(She'll learn.)

"Finding another catastrophe is helpful."

Not that X knows this from experience.

"Somewhere else."

"I will keep that in mind," she promises.

"I can help," X offers.

In whatever world.

"You're a very useful person to know, X."

"Yes."

X does not smile, but she seems extremely pleased nonetheless.

"I try to be."

Sometimes her skillsets make it very easy.

That makes her smile, just a little.

"So, how have you been?"

X thinks about that for a second. Or maybe two.

"I have been better. Lately."

She'll take it.