[ Once he arrives, he searches for the mind who had spoken to him. Sheska, it seems. Finally he manages to arrive at her doorstep, knocking on it twice ]
[She's a mundane creature, this one, certainly no mutant, with the fuzzy quality to her thoughts that denotes someone who has been utterly exhausted for several days. As such, she's a little scatterbrained, but all her thoughts do seem to be focused around him. A younger him. Walking at a college he doesn't recognize, unless he's already wandered down to the New Moore university. ...She's also wondering if he's allergic to walnuts.
The knock somehow takes her by surprise, but she's at the door in a moment, hanging on to the collar of an enthusiastic beagle/basset hound mix intent on lavishing their visitor in ridiculous, slobbery affection.]
Professor Xavier!
[She blinks a little in surprise, adjusting her vision down to meet his face with a sweet smile.]
Won't you come in? Or would you rather go find that bar right now?
[ Her view of him was a little jarring, especially since it's been ten years since he was so . . . naive and kind. Still, he was not interested in hurting her illusions of him so he wheels himself in politely ]
[Sheska manages to get the dog under control and ushers her guest into the living room, coated wall to wall in books as it is. There's enough space near the coffee table for him to sit comfortably if he wants to.]
I'd just been baking when I saw your message on the Network... I don't suppose you like red currant and walnut cookies, do you? Or perhaps something to drink? Ah, rather lighter than alcohol, I'm afraid.
[She lights up and darts off, more than happy to be of use, bringing back a tray of cookies and lemonade, which she sets within easy reach on the table before seating herself on the couch.]
So how can I help you, Professor? You must have a million questions. Almost everyone does, when they first arrive.
[Except, perhaps, for Mr. Holmes. But that was to be expected.]
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The knock somehow takes her by surprise, but she's at the door in a moment, hanging on to the collar of an enthusiastic beagle/basset hound mix intent on lavishing their visitor in ridiculous, slobbery affection.]
Professor Xavier!
[She blinks a little in surprise, adjusting her vision down to meet his face with a sweet smile.]
Won't you come in? Or would you rather go find that bar right now?
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[ Her view of him was a little jarring, especially since it's been ten years since he was so . . . naive and kind. Still, he was not interested in hurting her illusions of him so he wheels himself in politely ]
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I'd just been baking when I saw your message on the Network... I don't suppose you like red currant and walnut cookies, do you? Or perhaps something to drink? Ah, rather lighter than alcohol, I'm afraid.
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So how can I help you, Professor? You must have a million questions. Almost everyone does, when they first arrive.
[Except, perhaps, for Mr. Holmes. But that was to be expected.]
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