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Post by Hank McCoy on Oct 31, 2003 8:42:46 GMT -4
"I think that's a splendid idea.", he said to her and smiled broadly.
Henry thought for a moment...feeling badly that she might have taken his reaction to her book as a criticism. He definitely did not want her to think he was chastising her - he was actually very proud of her and how she immersed herself in her studies. Christine showed a lot more initiative, a lot more potential than most of the other students her age. For that matter, she showed more initiative and potential than most other people his age.
After a moment he spoke to her quietly, gently - and very direct. "Christine ideas themselves are not what is dangerous. And knowledge is a wonderful goal. It's when those ideas or the search for knowledge become more important than anything else....than life itself....that we must be cautious. Nataniel Essex's ideas took him down a path that cost many lives. Magneto's path is much the same. Both would do anything to achieve their goals, so to give their ideas credence is to stand at a very dangerous crossroads. Professor Xavier has shown us a path and an idea that is respectful not only of our lives - but the lives of others. You said that one must learn from the past as to avoid the same mistakes. I just don't want to see you make their mistakes."
He hoped - dearly - that he didn't sound as much like Yoda telling Luke Skywalker to away keep from the Dark Side of the Force as he suspected he must.
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Post by Christine MacTaggart on Oct 31, 2003 8:46:48 GMT -4
Christine bit back the urge to answer "Yes, Master Yoda," and covered her mouth with her hand to cough behind it - mainly to hide her reaction to his unspoken thought and her own answer - which would have been embarrassing. "I think my Mum would tan my hide if I tried anything like Essex's work."
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Post by Hank McCoy on Oct 31, 2003 14:22:37 GMT -4
Henry was struck with a peculiar realization. He could have sworn that Christine was amused by something, then slightly embarrassed. He turned his head just a little to one side - checking with his peripheral vision to see if perhaps she was reacting to something behind him. The normal activities of students studying and moving about the library were all he could detect. He looked back at her.
Empathic resonance? he thought to himself. He tried to hide his concern - to clear his mind so there was as little chance as possible of her detecting even a hint of the thought that had crossed his mind. Unless he was more sure he was hesitant to talk about it - but he wondered briefly before purposefully shifting his focus if perhaps Christine's powers were leaking. She might be having some trouble maintaining control over her abilities. If so, she probably wasn't even aware of it.
"I have never had the pleasure of meeting your mother", he told her,"although her published research is brilliant. Based on what others have related of her....fiery...personality, however, I suspect that you are right."
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Post by Christine MacTaggart on Oct 31, 2003 15:17:12 GMT -4
"I've come to the conclusion that arguing with my mother is not something I would love to do in regards to anything. I like my head attached to my body and arguing with her would be the quickest way to lose it. Altho, I have had some classmates of mine... point out that I have inherited her temper, much to my growing displeasure."
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Post by Hank McCoy on Oct 31, 2003 18:52:32 GMT -4
"I'm afraid it sometimes goes with the territory that what we inherit from our parents may just as often be something we dislike as it is something we admire.", Henry said to her gently. Only later as he thought about the conversation would it occur to him that he had spoken to her with almost none of his characteristic defenses in effect. No precocious wordplay. No jokes. He simply talked to her. He wasn't the Beast. He was Henry McCoy.
"I am curious, though.", he wondered aloud as he looked at her across the table. "Is it just your expression of a behavior that you learned... or do you think there is something behind your anger?"
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Post by Christine MacTaggart on Oct 31, 2003 19:03:25 GMT -4
"I think it's a combonation of what I've learned from watching her and my inherient (SP) nature. Oh, the bane of being a Scot - that which gives us a fiery temper," she said quietly.
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Post by Hank McCoy on Nov 1, 2003 11:30:27 GMT -4
He laughed, and immediately drew his hand up to cover the sound and the smile on his face.
"My dear, you are speaking to a McCoy", he said - still with clear amusement in his voice.
"Much of my ancestry comes from Scotland as well...and the remainder is predominantly Irish."
He bent closely over the table and put one hand to the side of his mouth in an exaggerated and comic manner. He looked as if he were telling a secret. He spoke in a mock whisper, "We McCoys have been getting irate for centuries!"
Sitting back, he rolled his eyes as if to say I know exactly what you mean.
He finished with, "...as anyone with the misfortune to be named Hatfield could attest."
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Post by Christine MacTaggart on Nov 1, 2003 11:44:13 GMT -4
Christine covered her mouth with her hand and laughed behind it. "I remember reading about that famous feud in several of my history books," she said, an amused smile threatening to form.
She slowly composed herself and shook her head. "If the students know I have Scottish blood and the temper to match - why do select ones try and annoy me when they know full well an angry Scot is not a pretty picture? And more importantly, why do they attempt it when I'm suffering from Mother Hen Syndrome?"
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Post by Hank McCoy on Nov 1, 2003 13:58:52 GMT -4
"What drives each of us is different.", he told her.
He thought about the irony of her question. Here was someone who had the power to take the answers she was struggling with directly from another's mind. He knew that it wasn't always easy for her to shut out the voices of others - she struggled not to and it often caused her pain. The fact that she didn't exploit her power thoughtlessly told him that she knew that having an ability didn't mean you had the right to use it. It made him very, very proud of her.
He looked thoughtfully across the library. "Some are simply mean-spirited and love to experience the misery of others. More often, they're probably miserable or unhappy themselves - and lashing out at others is a way to make someone else feel as awful and alone as they do."
He looked back at her, noticing again how intense her gaze could be. "And sometimes, I think, we're just not designed to get along with certain others. I think what you'll find, though, is that it's rarely personal unless we let it be."
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Post by Christine MacTaggart on Nov 1, 2003 14:08:13 GMT -4
Christine nodded slightly, biting her lip as she thought over what he said. "Yes, but I hate having to snap at people for worrying me unnecessarily like that. I hate getting angry with them."
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Post by Hank McCoy on Nov 1, 2003 14:39:47 GMT -4
He smiled again, thinking how much she sometimes reminded him of himself.
He asked her what he already suspected he knew.
"So are you frustrated at them.....or are you frustrated at you?"
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Post by Christine MacTaggart on Nov 1, 2003 14:41:22 GMT -4
"Both," she said quietly. "I'm frustrated at them for doing things that would cause me to worry about them and frustrated at myself for not being able to stop them from doing it."
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Post by Hank McCoy on Nov 1, 2003 15:44:12 GMT -4
"My dear girl", he said and placed a hand on the side of her face and gently against her cheek. He looked in her eyes with an expression of simple kindness.
"You are hopelessly and utterly normal."
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Post by Christine MacTaggart on Nov 1, 2003 15:47:58 GMT -4
She arched a thin eyebrow in question, and tilted her head. 'Normal?' she thought vaguely confused. She didn't exactly know how to word her question, and hoped he could understand her look of sheer confusion. She bit her lower lip in confusion as she was wont to do when confusion struck her.
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Post by Hank McCoy on Nov 2, 2003 11:38:28 GMT -4
"Christine, you said before that you struggle with being different - with being hated by others.", he answered - there was understanding in his eyes. "I'm trying to tell you that this is part of the nature of humanity. Humans fear what is different. For thousands of years people have hated, often killed, over what now often seem like trivial differences." "This is nothing new to mutants, we're just the latest to feel the effect.", he said. "Tribe or nationality, religion or politics, skin color, you name it. It is human instinct. Magneto believes that only by conquering can the problem be solved. The Professor understands, and I believe with him, that it's a part of the way of life - that only education and understanding - only by peaceful interaction that shows both sides they have nothing to fear - this is the only chance to make things any different." "But to the point of your question.", he continued. "William Shakespeare wrote a passage in the 1590's - over four hundred years ago - and only by changing two words in it I can almost make it seem like it was written today." He quoted: I am a mutant. Hath not a mutant eyes? hath not a mutant hands, organs, dimensions, senses, affections, passions? fed with the same food, hurt with the same weapons, subject to the same diseases, healed by the same means, warmed and cooled by the same winter and summer, as a human is? If you prick us, do we not bleed? if you tickle us, do we not laugh? if you poison us, do we not die? and if you wrong us, shall we not revenge? If we are like you in the rest, we will resemble you in that. He sighed. "Magneto is willing to kill to make his point. Charles is willing to die to make his." He looked at her. "And you, my dear, struggling with feeling lost and different - with feeling angry and frustrated and afraid. I think William Shakespeare just welcomed you to the human race."
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