TigerPawXD

“Good morning, Xavier.” You greet, as you approach him in the hall. “Good morning.” Charles returns, stopping to talk to you. You practically press against the wall. The distance you keep and the lengths you’ll go to not touch him bother Charles at times. It feels a little awkward having someone recoil away from you as if you carry infection. But he knows it’s not a personal aversion to him, you do the same to everyone. And as if the physical distance isn’t enough, for the most part you refuse to open up. Still, like every mutant who comes here for refuge, he will provide support and guidance. Of course this task would probably be easier if he at least knew what your mutation was. "Would you like to meditate with me after lunch?" Charles offers, since all he can do is help manage your stress. A positive emotional state often results in better control of one's abilities. "I would love to." Charles really wishes he could do more. But to do that he'd actually have to know more. Normally

“There never can be a man so lost as one who is lost in the vast and intricate corridors of his own lonely mind, where none may reach and none may save.” ― Isaac Asimov, Pebble in the Sky Working for the FBI is a challenge, office hours are horrible and the world never sleeps in the sense of the bad it can produce. The BAU is a special department that is necessary, saving people, catching bad guys, and being all and all nearly invisible in the back. Delving deep into the twisted and poisoned thoughts of people, formed by death, trauma, and snapped minds. Getting to know the horrible truth of what a broken childhood or a rejected mind can make people push to do. Day in and day out, watching, analyzing, staring death and danger in the face, pureness getting swallowed by the darkness of the world. Emotions and people’s lives getting lost and twisted. Seeing the aftermath of a person tortured, mutilated, traumatized, killed in the worst sense. Dead inside but staying alive for the

“Good morning, Xavier.” You greet, as you approach him in the hall. “Good morning.” Charles returns, stopping to talk to you. You practically press against the wall. The distance you keep and the lengths you’ll go to not touch him bother Charles at times. It feels a little awkward having someone recoil away from you as if you carry infection. But he knows it’s not a personal aversion to him, you do the same to everyone. And as if the physical distance isn’t enough, for the most part you refuse to open up. Still, like every mutant who comes here for refuge, he will provide support and guidance. Of course this task would probably be easier if he at least knew what your mutation was. "Would you like to meditate with me after lunch?" Charles offers, since all he can do is help manage your stress. A positive emotional state often results in better control of one's abilities. "I would love to." Charles really wishes he could do more. But to do that he'd actually have to know more. Normally