The Reevaluation Of The Word " And " [Professor X]

[platt]

He tried not to drum his fingers on the desk, but it was so polished and immaculate he could eat off of it. The shine of the blood red wood made him want to tarnish it, leave his coffee cup to form little moisture rings on the surface, tiny concentric circles of dead colors like leaves in autumn. James shifted uncomfortably. Sitting in an office alone remained him of the guidence counselor office. His mind turned toward the stifling little room in Theodore Roosevelt. Mrs. Francis, all enthusiastic and useless. James understood, she had a job to do. That job being ferrying students to the University that send her the most stuff. He felt the hill growing steadily up as he fought for Colombia, fought for early entry, fought to take the test. Each way meeting resistance on the way. He could almost hear them in the conferences. " We can't lose our best student. We'll lose our funding. Stall him, stall him ". The incompetence he met in public school was one of the reason he wanted to be a teacher. No better way to fix a broken system than by being on the inside.

And yet here he was, charter school teacher with a twelve point raise from the check he used to collect and free room and board. A part of him felt like a sell-out, but then he remembered that he was 24 and he couldn't say that without coming off like a moron. He stewed in silence and in terror. The door opened and he glanced up towards it.

[xavier]

"I would ask you not to try and stain my desk. I've had it for far to many years now for it to be ruined." Of course, telepath. Nothing was a secret to Professor Xavier. Though he tried not to read peoples minds often, sometimes you just happened to overhear things when searching the school to do a headcount. The faint hiss of his electric wheelchair was the only sound as Charles maneuvered around the furniture and behind the desk James seemed so intent on soiling.

"So. What is it I can help you with today, James?" The faint smile on his lips was warm and inviting, as if asking for the man to say what was on his mind no matter what it was.

((Sorry for the lame post Short on time... But wanted to get this up asap.))

[platt]

He didn't hear the approach of motor or the squeak of the wheel on hardwood. Somehow, Professor Charles Xavier managed ninja-like stealth while being confined to a motorized wheelchair. James sat ramrod straight as The Professor maneuver over to his desk. His face lit with befuddlement as he spoke, a rich deep baritone that he tried imaging having casual conversation and failed. There was something hopelessly unflappable about him. He reminded him of the Old Boys network at Colombia. Middle-aged men with tweed jackets. Yet here he was, Martin Luther King jr., Mohandas Gandhi and Jesus rolled up into one. Some call it the salvation of mutation. James called him a smart guy with a good idea. He wasn't quite sure which was more dangerous.

" It's not like I can help it. " He said. " Something about sitting in an office makes me want to put a thumb tack on a chair. " James looked up and went quiet for a moment. " Er...not that I would...or...could..er..Imean, not that I'm making fun of your disability. I mean, I'm not. I totally...respect....I'll shut up now. " He said meekly.

[xavier]

Professor Xavier chuckled softly as James tried to defend his thoughts.
"You and just about every student and former student of this school. I think it would be much stranger if you didn't have those kinds of thoughts."

James just rattled on and on, his words and actions showing just how nervous he was, as if terrified what Charles might do or say to the young teacher. All Charles did though, was smile faintly, propping his elbows on the table and clasping his hands together. "There's no need to be so nervous, James. You're acting as if I might execute you."

He paused for only a moment. "Now, I hope you will speak freely of what's on your mind. You have my undivided attention." Of course, with Xavier that could be a terrifying thing. Who would know if he was prodding the other's mind?

[platt]

There was something in The Professor's humor that James didn't like. Althought the man was warm and obviously extremely caring, when he tried to shoot the shit it came off...odd. Perhaps James didn't know him that well. Somehow, he doubted this.

" Well, you're the one that asked me to come here. So...why am I here? " He said with a weak smile.

[OOC: Sorry. My comp is running out of juice and I wanted to get something down to keep the thread going.]

[xavier]

"Right, of course."

Professor Xavier obviously hadn't planned on getting right to the point so quickly. He would have preferred to spend a little more time 'catching up' with the new teacher. See how he had been enjoying his time at the school so far. If he were to guess though, Charles would think the man annoyed or confused. The school wasn't exactly 'normal' after all.

"Well. I have an... opportunity for you. If you are willing to accept, that is." He paused for a moment. "I am sending several of the other X-men to Niger, and would like you to join them."

[platt]

" You mean the 8th mile? " He said. The whole school was talking about it. The yearly trip to Africa. A sojourn thorough the impoverished villages and refugee camps rendering aid to mutants and humans alike. It was called the 8th mile stretch for no good reason. The teachers didn't talk much about it. What he could coax out of a few faculty came awfully close to the company line. The students, however, were more receptive to interviews. They talked about it as if it was some sort of vacation. A chance to get away from the Manor and experience the real world, despite the fact that the majority of the time, they would be doing nothing but grunt work. Some talked about it as a chance to do something good. Most just cared to get out of school for a few weeks.

James was curious but a little stunned. " You want me to go with them to your big charity mucky muck? Uh...I'm not...I'm not an X-Men. I'm just a teacher. " And he paused and he thought No, I'm not. I'm just a journalist who teaches. A journalist with a camera and a book deal. A journalist who recently published an article about X-Corp and their financial troubles. Was that it?. He looked at then and then he caught himself and his mouth dropped a little and the closed it again. " You heard all that, didn't you? " He said.

[xavier]

Professor Xavier just faintly smiled at James' reaction. "Yes, the 8th mile." Keeping his mind to himself, he completely missed what James 'knew' about the project, that is until he spoke once more. Choosing his words carefully, Charles did his best to try and explain his motive.
"Perhaps that is why. Who better to go then someone who dedicates their entire life for the education of others."

Of course Charles heard James' thoughts after that! Clear as day, they were, and in some ways made him smile softly. At least the man was honest. "As you have been honest, so will I. Yes, I did over hear that, but I am glad you aren't trying to hide these things from me. It only reassures my decision in asking if you would go." He paused momentarily. "It is completely optional if you will go, but they will need your expertise there."

[platt]

He looked at the Professor for a while, slowing his thoughts down and disseminating them as they entered his mind before shunting them out like acutators on an assemblage. He pursed his lips and folded his hand and crossed his head and then lowered his head for a second. He began to laugh. " You are...incredibly slick, aren't you?" He pinched the bridge of his nose and continued to giggle.

" You're dropping this story in my lap so that I won't ask anymore questions about the X-Corps finances. You know I can't say no, right? You're giving me an opportunity to spend time with your X-Men in the field doing aid and relief work in Africa. Best off, you know this won't be some puff piece. You know that I'm going get into these people skins and you're counting on me being so captivated that I drop the story. God, you're good. You're giving me exactly what I want."

He stood up. " I'll go. You better believe I'll go." He held out his hand toward the Professor.