That someone is probably Charles Xavier, but with the way universes overlap without rhyme nor rhythm, trading faces and names like collectable stamps, anyone would be forgiven for assuming that he isn't. He is vaguely unkempt where Charles Xavier was neat; he is quiet in his negotiation around kitchen space where Charles Xavier liked to possess the room inasmuch as someone of his stature could; he doesn't approach Natasha Romanoff when Charles Xavier probably would have, by now.
Instead, he focusing on inspecting what fresh ingredients have been funnelled into public kitchen, selecting what he thinks he can afford to take without it being noticeable. Leafy greens are stacked on top of one another. Some bread someone's gone ahead and made. These things are bound together.
As he works, he betrays a look up and across the room towards her, too knowing in recognition of her to be chance. ]
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That someone is probably Charles Xavier, but with the way universes overlap without rhyme nor rhythm, trading faces and names like collectable stamps, anyone would be forgiven for assuming that he isn't. He is vaguely unkempt where Charles Xavier was neat; he is quiet in his negotiation around kitchen space where Charles Xavier liked to possess the room inasmuch as someone of his stature could; he doesn't approach Natasha Romanoff when Charles Xavier probably would have, by now.
Instead, he focusing on inspecting what fresh ingredients have been funnelled into public kitchen, selecting what he thinks he can afford to take without it being noticeable. Leafy greens are stacked on top of one another. Some bread someone's gone ahead and made. These things are bound together.
As he works, he betrays a look up and across the room towards her, too knowing in recognition of her to be chance. ]