Actually, he supposes it makes sense. Hank is also here, but from earlier in Charles' life, right around the time that he was desperately suppressing his telepathy so that he could both walk and sleep, grief having run him down into a ragged mess. Now that he gets a chance to properly look at Erik, he feels different, though he hardly looks much older if years do indeed separate them.
There are a million things Charles could say. He could be biting: and how many Presidents have you attempted to murder in that time? He could be curious: what becomes of the school, of mutantkind, of the world? He could be overly familiar and nostalgic: remember when everything was so much more simple, and all we wanted was to protect others like ourselves?
Instead, what comes out is a gentle, rueful: ]
Oh, my friend. You look considerably more careworn than when I saw you last.
[ He's very carefully not reaching deeper, no matter how much he wants to. Erik isn't wearing that godforsaken helmet, but it had sent a message that stays with Charles nonetheless. All he can feel from Erik is a complicated tangle of emotions, their textures worn in some parts, ragged in others. ]
I hardly expected that our next meeting would happen like this, but-- I'm glad you're alright.
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Actually, he supposes it makes sense. Hank is also here, but from earlier in Charles' life, right around the time that he was desperately suppressing his telepathy so that he could both walk and sleep, grief having run him down into a ragged mess. Now that he gets a chance to properly look at Erik, he feels different, though he hardly looks much older if years do indeed separate them.
There are a million things Charles could say. He could be biting: and how many Presidents have you attempted to murder in that time? He could be curious: what becomes of the school, of mutantkind, of the world? He could be overly familiar and nostalgic: remember when everything was so much more simple, and all we wanted was to protect others like ourselves?
Instead, what comes out is a gentle, rueful: ]
Oh, my friend. You look considerably more careworn than when I saw you last.
[ He's very carefully not reaching deeper, no matter how much he wants to. Erik isn't wearing that godforsaken helmet, but it had sent a message that stays with Charles nonetheless. All he can feel from Erik is a complicated tangle of emotions, their textures worn in some parts, ragged in others. ]
I hardly expected that our next meeting would happen like this, but-- I'm glad you're alright.
[ Is Erik alright? ]