greatswellofpity: (down} working)
Player's Name: Liz/EC

Characters Played Here: None!

Character: Professor Charles Francis Xavier

Series/Canon: X-MEN (Movies, revised timeline)

From When? Charles comes from just after the events of DAYS OF FUTURE PAST; in the aftermath of the White House assault, he is approached by Eli and in what he sees as a personal moment of weakness, accepts the offer to settle in New Dodge.

Previous Game(s): None!

World Description: N/A

History: Wiki link

Does your character have any close ties to existing canon characters? N/A

Why do you think your character would work in this setting? Charles, at this point in the new timeline forged by Wolverine's interference, has been moved by his time with Logan and by speaking to his future self, but remains a man in desperate need of refuge. He needs time to think, to absorb all that's happened—to mourn his losses, to forget his failures and his pain...and to remember all of it so he can serve future generations as he's seen he will. Most importantly, he needs to know that he can keep his promise to Logan: to find the X-Men, to lead and to guide them...to do his best. In a remote corner of the galaxy like New Dodge, it's his hope that he can do this during his six month term. He will, of course, likely find more reasons to stay once he arrives and settles into life on the intergalactic frontier.

How do you plan to expand their CR? Charles has a set purpose to reclaim his identity and heal old wounds—to reconnect with people, so he will be making a concerted effort to reach out. In addition, as a natural born father figure and a teacher, he will likely attract and gravitate towards new students, people in need of help—problems in need of solving. As an academic, he will be eager to learn, and as a man, he will be moved by the relationships he begins to build. In all these things, perhaps reluctantly at the start, he will need to reach out to others and start forming personal relationships again.

What will your character do for work? Charles is a professor of genetics, making him both educator and scientist, so he may attempt to ply his trade as a teacher or at a local lab. He might also, however, do some soul searching and look for a more menial, simplistic job just to have the luxury of working, earning his keep and earning an honest day's living.

Inventory:

- one standard manual wheelchair
- the clothes on his back
- a wallet with approximately two hundred dollars inside, along with ID and photos—standard wallet fare
- a pair of sunglasses

Samples:

Third-Person Sample:

It was ironic, but Charles always knew he was due for his treatment when the whispers came.

They weren't always words—more butterfly kisses of awareness on the edge of his mind. Pleasant, in their own way, little glimpses of light and shadow that reminded him of laying in the gardens as a boy, stretched out under his favorite tree or within its branches as dappled sunlight fell on him, making the world a safe and magical place of light and a thing one could barely call shadow.

Early on, he ignored those cues. They were pleasurable, even welcome...until the barely there words and playful little brushes of silk and sunlight on his psyche turned to voices, cries of pain and sorrow he could not bear.

He felt them when the intruder laid his cock and bull story at his feet—with facts, sure, he knew how Charles discovered his abilities, but no proof besides—and asked him for help. Asked him for aid. Flickers of sun filled windows and a deep, sonorous voice he almost recognized. Glimpses of faces he didn't know, young and free and filled with life.

Teasing little brushes of a face...a face he did not know, standing by his side, a face he refused to recognize because it was impossible, because he was a bloody monster and as lost to him as Raven was...

Raven, who would die.

We all have to die some time.

His own words echoed in his head as he slid the needle home. Her bright smile and laughing blue eyes filled his head—her tiny blue frame and wide, frightened yellow eyes called out to him from the past as he pressed the plunger and waited for those feather soft brushes of other minds to fade back into nothing.

He let the serum do its work, push the voices safely back again...but, as ever, it failed to push back the voices he truly needed to be rid of.

His voice. Her voice.

He listened to the whispers fade, and was infected by the one thing they carried, the one thing he'd given up a long time ago.

Hope.

First-Person Sample: Charles on the TDM

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Professor Charles Xavier

May 2020

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