Murdersphere Mosaic [ManXMan] [BoyXBoy]

Chapter 6 Part 5 Veteran of the Psychic Wars

Bored... no, can't let them be bored. Gotta be a trooper.  I have to get up.

"I do not love Carnifax. I do not love Carnifax." I repeat to myself.  I just hung all of my emotional comfort on him. I drew all of my emotional sustenance from him. He was just the first person I bonded with after Titus. I should have gone out and made friends instead of skulking about looking for dopplegangers.

"I do not love Carnifax." I repeat and it feels like an epic lie because I hurt physically from going from thinking he was dead, to finding out he was "just" leaving the set for a better gig. It all hurts. I do not even wish he was actually dead.

"Good luck." I mutter into the floor. I have a sudden urge to ransack his apartment for keepsakes. Then I realize that I do not even know where he lived.

Son of a bitch. He used me, just like Titus. He used me and left me in worse circumstances. I knew he was using me and now I felt sick because I am so upset about being used, even though I knew I was being used.

I can almost hear the opening piano run of Gloria Gaynor's "I Will Survive."

I try to school my face into something that says, "heroic determination in the face of overwhelming loss" instead. "USED! I'VE BEEN USED AGAIN!" And in the process, I've let myself be fed into the worst place for me to be on this planet outside of Genosha: Charles Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters.

I drag myself upright and walk to the monitor. Xavier does not have an outward facing phone number or email address, but there is a "Headmaster@XavierInstitute."

I send a video message.

"Hello Professor Xavier,

Nick Fury Jr. has informed me that I have been accepted to the Xavier Institute and I should report Monday morning. I understand the Institute is a residential school. What do I need to bring?

Regards,

Exalt Ayeshason."

Bracing myself, I turn on big monitor in television mode.

Carnifax's face is all over.

"Justicar Carnifax, a SHIELD contractor, was killed in a freak accident during a weapons test. " The news roller says. "The official cause of the accident is 'human error.' The malfunctioning piece of equipment has been destroyed and the employee disciplined. Memorial services are scheduled for..."

I change the channel.

The phone shrills.

"Answer." I command. "Hello."

"Exalt Ayeshason?" It is a womans voice, controlled, alto, smooth.

I recognize the voice. "I am he." I say.

"I am Ororo Munroe." She says. "I am with the Xavier Institute. Professor Xavier asked me to speak with you."

"Did he forward the message to you then?" I ask.

"No." She says. "He says that you had concerns."

I sigh. "I just wanted to know what I needed to bring when I report on Monday morning."

There is a long pause and then, "Goddammit Charles!" There is another long pause. When Storm comes back to the phone, her composure returns. She continues as if that did not happen. "By any chance are you free this afternoon?"

"I am." I say.

"Meet me at 177A Bleaker Street at 3pm." She says. "You do not have to bring anything."

"I will see you then." I say.

"Goodbye then." She says, ending the call.

I shower, my moment of empowerment guttering. I feel stupid, but I already miss him. I was used to him, in a city full of people, he was the person that had the highest resolution in my mind: sight, vision, taste, smell, mind. He was the highest resolution personality I had been in contact with since Titus, and now he, like Titus, has moved on to greater opportunity.