While the arrival feast had most assuredly been designed to delight and welcome any newcomers, Charles had found the entire affair to be even more confusing than his initial arrival. Being kidnapped by beings he'd read about but held no belief in and dumped into a work populated by creatures he'd read about but held no belief in was a muddled turn of events and he still wasn't entirely certain he wasn't dead.
After all that was what made logical sense, if logic could be applied to any part of this situation. The artillery hadn't been that far from the beach, he and Erik had been distracted with their personal struggle, it was all together possible that a shell had found it's way to the shores and destroyed them all. It was at least as viable a scenario as; kidnapped by imps.
Regardless, he had heard whispers of the Station and it's promise of coffee and more importantly tea. It had taken a few wrong turns and polite questions of those he'd encountered to find his way but eventually Charles had secured himself a small table on the patio and a mug of tea; no spit please.
He wore a decidedly pensive expression as he stirred a spoon aimlessly in the mug but he wasn't distracted with a computer or a book, which left him very amiable to conversation. Particularly any conversation that might help clarify their purpose in this strange world.
Charles Xavier | X-Men First Class | #2 | Prose or action is fine!
After all that was what made logical sense, if logic could be applied to any part of this situation. The artillery hadn't been that far from the beach, he and Erik had been distracted with their personal struggle, it was all together possible that a shell had found it's way to the shores and destroyed them all. It was at least as viable a scenario as; kidnapped by imps.
Regardless, he had heard whispers of the Station and it's promise of coffee and more importantly tea. It had taken a few wrong turns and polite questions of those he'd encountered to find his way but eventually Charles had secured himself a small table on the patio and a mug of tea; no spit please.
He wore a decidedly pensive expression as he stirred a spoon aimlessly in the mug but he wasn't distracted with a computer or a book, which left him very amiable to conversation. Particularly any conversation that might help clarify their purpose in this strange world.