Owner	Pose
Monet St. Croix	It's the evening of the return from the brutal fight in the desert with the World Eeater. Defeated or merely driven back for now. For the Amazons and the others that fought, there are no doubt celebrations going on. Songs being sung. Plans being readied for the next fight. But, for one girl that's made a solid point of staying out of each and everything..     Monet's chest has been fully bandaged and set, and one arm is over in a sling and she's in a back brace for stability. The girl is sitting over in a chair to the side of one o fthe hallways, waiting for a ride to take her back to Xavier's. Her temper has been internally foul but her mind fully locked up like a vault, her gaze impassive.
Alexander Aaron	For some there were festivities, for it was the way of things. For others it was a relief to simply be clear of the event, to survive. For Alexander Aaron it had been a wild thing, out of the stories his father would tell and had heard from his family in those too few gatherings. His own emotions had run wild, heightened with twinned excitement and ambition.     And then when the time was right he had leapt free of the monstrosity. Only for his shoulder to tear and pain suddenly rode with him. Though even in that bare moment of agony and exultation... the God of Fear couldn't help but 'hear' the echo of such emotion. To feel on the wind the tension and then to turn and realize it came from a woman he had not met before.     A woman who was there risking her life and yet seemed to embrace such agony as none of the others felt. Even poor Kaida.     Afterward his arm was set, and he had been near where Monet was taking what ease she could in the side hallway. She likely would notice Alexander's silhouette darkening the end of that hall, slung shoulder restrained. Then hear the sounds of his footfalls as he advances.     Perhaps his intrusion will be welcome, perhaps not. Either way he comes.
Monet St. Croix	Simply braced over against the wall in a position having made herself roughly as comfortable as was possible given her physical state, and having stopped whatever telepathic blockages she had been using to inhibit pain, the Moroccan Mutant had been mostly quiet in the last few hours after treatment. She would be in her little corner and moving so little as to but occasioanlly breathe, and give little further indication of her existence as something more than a statue.     As Alexander comes towarsd her Monet's posture shifts a bit. Aggressively, if only in passing. She finally goes to break her silence over while spekaing flatly and does so in a tone of complete disinterest and dismissal.. But also full exhaustion.     "What do you want?"
Alexander Aaron	"We haven't met before."     The words are calm, delivered with an ease. The blond man stops before her, head tilted to the side slightly. He is not telepathic, and his senses aren't powered by the mind. It's more that as he stands there looking on her he has the whispered roiling tumult of the world's fears giving him a subtle feeling to what passes around him. And for those nearest, he hears their 'voices' loudest.     So he takes that feel of her, even though there is no mental thumbprint to the act. But her feelings now aren't what brought him here.     "I'm Alexander. We fought together." Against the World Eater. "You've been horribly injured, I wanted to check in with you."
Monet St. Croix	There's another flat look from MOnet St. Croix, absently filing away his identity in her mind and reviewing what she saw of him during the fight. Her posture doesn't change beyond a slight adjustment and cant of her head over to make eye contact with him a litlte more directly. She would finally go to speak back in a tone which she takes the edge off being dismissive. While she would enjoy little more than lashing out, now is not the time.     "Yes, we did."
Alexander Aaron	"My gift," He says as he steps to the side and leans against the wall, turning so they're both facing the same direction and he occasionally glances sidelong. "Has to do with fear, anxiety."     He lets those words hang there for a moment as he looks at her askance, brow slightly furrowed, one lifted a little higher than the other. Then he adds, "I could feel when you were injured that something changed for you. In a large way. Something crucial to you perhaps."     That said he looks away and toward whatever is in front of them in that side hallway of such little remark. "We don't know each other. But we've drawn blood together. To me, and my father, that matters. I may be able to help you. If you feel so inclined."
Monet St. Croix	Monet St. Croix would take a moment to glance over at Alexander, her tone flat over and then defensive, even as she would take a few moments over to focus herself, and then give his words some analysis. "So you can detect emotions within that spectrum?" Her words in a query over to him.     Her next reply to him is more blunt. But not as aggressively defensive. "We were fighting something the size of a cityscape. Disorientation in scale is a part of that." Her tone however wary. Reveealing just a litlte bit of weakness, the likes of which she loahted.
Alexander Aaron	"Mmm," Is all Alexander says at first. He scrunches one eye up and glances toward the sling for his arm. Then he looks back straight ahead.     "I could feel Morgan screaming to himself as he fell off the back of the creature. Could feel the people of that city as they saw the monsters. But you were different." That's all he says toward that, for now at least. Instead he draws one leg up to rest the sole of his boot against the wall.     "I can perhaps help. Ease that fear or anxiety, if only to let you deal with things better for a time. But I also understand if you prefer not to do so."     He lifts his chin slightly, "I have discharged my obligation to you as a comrade by making this offer. And you are within your rights to tell me to leave you be. And I will if you so say."
Monet St. Croix	There would be a moment while Monet would take what he had said to her and then process it. The process would be almos tinstantaneous; at least to someone normal. Monet processes it, evaluates it, and geos to take out a reply that is formal.     "Thank you, but no. I do not like having others in my head." Her tone is polite to him and there is nothing aggressive or belittling in it. He saw her state and in turn he had an abiltiy to try and help, and offered it.     "My.. Pain is my own and something I must deal with. I have.." Again attempting to make herself be more explanatory than she usually is.. "Had bad experiences in the past."
Alexander Aaron	"I understand," Alexander says as he looks back down the hall, then toward her. "It is... not telepathic." His nose crinkles and it's clear he's not entirely at ease with the concept. Which might make his offer carry a touch more weight for him.     "But..." He then adds, "Those feelings are important to the human experience." Since he knows what it is like to live without fear. "If I was given the choice I'd likely turn it down as well."     That said he pushes off the wall and takes a few steps away, pausing long enough to look to her. Then he says something simple and very clear, no horse in the race, no sentiment.     "You're very strong." He starts to walk back down the hall.
Monet St. Croix	Monet St. Croix would shrug, "Fear is a part of our survival systems. Shutting off parts of our mind is dangerous from an evolutionary standpoint. It begets denial and breaks a process through which we learn limitatiosn and understand our own capabilities."     She would glance over at him for a few moments before she would say, "My strength is meaningless in the greater scheme of things."
Alexander Aaron	Turning around Alexander smiles a little as he walks backwards, "Yeah." He offers, knowing full well there are things, beings, creatures that make them all... small. Yet his expression is at ease as he tells her, "That in part makes it fun."