[Lupine]

There weren't a lot of places in the mansion that Casey Tavernier had not explored...yet. She had been here for almost nine years...give or take. This place was like her second home...the people in it her second family (even though she didn't get along with a few people--but that was normal right?)--and she knew the place well...

The attic however was one of those few places she hadn't explored in the place. Why?

Well...at first it didn't appeal to her. Of course when she had first gotten here...much of nothing really appeal to her. She had still been reeling from her parents deaths, the way they had hiked all the way from there to here, the man she had inadvertently killed...it had all been preying on her mind making her want nothing more then the hide in the room they had given her and to never come out.

Then of course was the entire phase of--how interesting can the attic really be? I mean seriously...it was just a storage area in her mind (the thought of half of it being a room never really crossed her mind). It was just there to hold stuff. It was filled to the brim with boxes of things forgotten and times past. Big whoop.

But now--ever since Christmas (and the seeing of the decorations being brought down from the attic and back up again), she couldn't help but be curious again...about all the stuff that could be up there. The old time type stuff that no one ever brought down anymore. Oh he memories those things probably had. And it was that renewed sense of curiosity in the antique things she was sure of that were up here that had the new mutant up in the highest parts of the mansion.

It took a few moments, but the wolf shifter mutant had arrived to her destination. The attic! Yay...she looked around and whistled softly in appreciation of how much stuff was actually in here. And of how grateful she suddenly found herself of the floor being so strong as to hold it all over their heads. She walked around carefully...wow she didn't know where to start really...

It was then she thought she heard someone else's footfalls and she froze with a soft gasp. Uh oh...who was that? Obviously it was someone else in the mansion. And so she was safe. That part didn't bug her too much. She was sure that no one would have minded her being up here...but then again, you never knew. And aw man she hoped she wasn't about to get into trouble. She was just curious here! But oh well...might as well get it over with if she was, "Hello?" was her simple one worded calling as she looked around...still wondering what or who could be up here with her...

[Professor X]

This building was Charles' home, he had grown up here. It should have been familiar to him, for the mansion and its grounds had been in the Xavier family ever since they'd come across from England and made a name for themselves here. Charles had grown up memorising every room, every corridor, every hidden nook and cranny. As far as the basic layout went, little about the place had changed.

And yet, in equally numerous ways, the Xavier Institute was a hugely unfamiliar place. Just similar enough in its base principles to confuse him when he entered a room and found it had been repurposed in the time between now and his last memories of the place. Entire wings converted into dormitories for students, new floors sunk into the basement and made entirely alien with their metal surfacing and fancy illumination. An air hangar beneath an equally new basketball court where once there had been a herb garden, that was definitely one that had surprised him.

But, more than that, it was no longer the Xavier family's ancestral home. It was a school, a place where numerous mutant students had already grown up in and more were in the process of doing so. And, for all that it meant that the grand building was no longer his, Charles couldn't help but feel as if it was a vast improvement. When this had been just his home, it had been a rather...empty place. Quiet. Hollow. Just him and Raven running around, trying to make it come alive, while his mother had drunk herself into her own grave and the servants had been poor replacements for a family. Now, the Institute was never quiet, was often and almost always loud instead and this was what Charles had dreamed of.

So, for all that it was often startling and Charles was constantly surprised by changes in this Institute compared to the childhood home he remembered, he was happy here. It was wonderful to wander through familiar corridors and see them used and worn rather than polished and lonely. The telepath had slowly been re-exploring his ancestral home from bottom to top, cataloguing the new details and rediscovering old haunts from when he was young.

Now, finally, he had made his way up to the attic - the part of the space under the eaves that had not, at least, been converted into Ororo Munroe's quarters. Up here it was dusty and more than a little dry, quieter than almost anywhere else in the entire mansion and Charles was still entirely at home up here, if only because he'd occupied himself by digging through the neatly packed, ordered and stacked boxes of old furniture and toys and trunks of books and linens and faded, yellowed paper. Up here were things from before even his own time and Charles had been in the middle of examining a stack of letters he believed his grandfather to have written to his grandmother when courting her when he heard someone - both with his ears and with the part of his telepathy that was always aware in a low-key fashion of the presence of others.

Charles turned, nose wrinkling a little when doing so caused a cloud of dust to fly up and settle in his dark hair, on his slacks, and let his blue eyes focus on the young, dark-haired girl who had just broken the hushed silence up here. "Hello there,"Charles said, cheerily. "And here I was thinking I was the only one mad enough to come up here."

[Lupine]

Casey was a young one. She really was. She had no idea that this used to be a house. She was assuming that all of this stuff was probably school related stuff. Or maybe just seasonal stuff that wasn't needed right now. Then again--who knew? Who knew what was inside all of these slightly dusty boxes that haven't looked as if they had been opened for a while. It was that curiosity and wondering that had brought her up here to begin with...and apparently she wasn't the only one to get curious about what type of things were up here...

Casey's muscles tensed and her ears pricked as she tried to figure out if she could recognize the other beforehand. But no--she had never heard that voice before. Hmmm...new person probably. Someone who was just exploring the new place. The place in which they probably never saw the likes of before in their lives. Which was no problem to her. She could certainly say that she had been there before. And knew where they were coming from. And maybe they could both discover cool things together...

Or...maybe it was something different...

She knew that the professor was back. It was kind of hard not to hear about it. What with all the commotion that had happened that night...how could you miss it?! (She had been awake but wisely had decided not to even step out of her room at that point) But it was different. Rumor had it that this wasn't the same wheelchair bound man who was old aged and full of wisdom gained through the world's experiences. No they said that he was younger looking, able to walk...and different.

Casey wasn't sure how to take it to be honest. Course she never really listened to rumors. She was always one to believe it only if she saw it. That wasn't to say that she was totally scientific and didn't believe in anything mythical...but where rumors were concerned....well they were often exaggerated or not even true...so that was just plain different then everything else. That was her way of thinking and she was sticking to it.

She saw the brown haired man looking through sometime look up at her and she couldn't help but tense up again for a moment before relaxing. She just got a relaxing vibe from the guy. And there was a part of her that was saying that he seemed all right. She couldn't help but laugh softly as he spoke. Crazy? Well now she wouldn't say that.

"Heh suppose not." she said with a slight shrug. "Curiosity got the better of me ...just wanted to see what kind of things could be up here." she said explaining herself...more out of a habit then anything else...

[Professor X]

By now, Charles had not met even close to anywhere near the entire student body. Several of the older X-Men, yes, but few of the younger mutants that called the Institute - and, gosh, it was going to take a while to get used to calling it that - home. In equal measures, they seemed to accept this rewound version of himself rather more easily than some of the adults, or be doubly unsettled by the freak act of physics that had brought him to be here as he was.

It was Charles' hope that they would get used to him. That, more than that, they would grow to trust him in a separate way to the relationships that they'd had with his former, future self, whatever those may have been. All he knew was that, patient as he was, he did not wish to feel like a stranger or outsider in what was technically his home for the rest of his life.

It was to ground himself a little more that the brown-haired man had come up here in the first place, intent on finding some memories, some trace of a legacy that he himself could remember rather than what his future self had (or would?) lay down. And it had been a...satisfying venture, losing himself in the exploration of his own past as he had, a past he actually remembered or could at least relate to.

And company may not have been expected, but it certainly wasn't unwanted.

She was young (but weren't they all) and probably a student, though not one of the youngest he didn't think. In his head, she was briefly wire-tense, but then something persuaded her to calm a little, to surrender her nerves - he didn't go prying any further than that into the exact causes, but that was what he picked up just with the general empathy that was a near constant facet of his powers.

To further convince her that she could relax, Charles smiled a little at her and made a small yet widely encompassing gesture to include all of the boxes and trunks, junk and treasures that surrounded them. "Several lifetime's worth of belongings, I'd say," he commented, a tad dryly. "The Xaviers were known for being terrible packrats and we've never liked to throw things away, so it all ends up here at some point or other and then very little gets done with it." He rested his hands on his hips and looked around, a little helplessly. "I hadn't realised just quite how much was stored and forgotten about over the years until now..."

[Lupine]

As tense as she had been a few moments ago when she had found out that she wasn't alone anymore, Casey now couldn't help but feel relaxed around this guy. He didn't seem to want anything other then to look around--just like she had been wanting to take a look around herself. Not to mention...he just seemed familiar. She couldn't quite place it...but she felt like she knew him. Even though she knew that was utterly ridiculous. She had never seen this man before in her life (to her knowledge anyways)...but even then, she felt no animosity. And that was never a bad thing.

And a little part of her was actually glad that she had ran into the other. While she hadn't expected to run into anyone, the company was always nice. Sides it was a bit creepy up here by yourself. With simple boxes and possessions there to keep you company. Not that she would have readily said so if someone was to ask. But anyways...

He spoke and she nodded. He was right about one thing. There was an awful lot of stuff here. Whatever it all was...there was just a lot of it. And there was really no denying it. She looked around, that canine-esque curiosity running through her body and splitting her attention between the other person and that. She wanted to look, to peek through the streams of time, the know what was hidden behind the box walls. But she was a polite being...it was ingrained into her after all. And so the curiosity was shoved aside and she paid more attention to the other instead of zoning out.

She mentally smirked at the pack rat comment made towards the people. Hey now...pack rats weren't such a bad thing. Admittedly she was a bit of a pack rat herself. She always kept little things that perhaps she didn't need to. But it was the memories man! She then noticed that the guy seemed to know a lot about the people. Who used to be here? Live here? She wasn't sure...but he did know a lot. Which was all right she guessed. Knowledge was power after all and...

...wait half a damn moment!

Casey never claimed to be the quickest person ever. And while it took a few moment, two and two just definitely came together. And it took a lot of self control to keep her expression the same (though by some act of a higher power--she did. She kept her expression the same...that of curiosity and wonder). Holy crap! This was him. That was to say it was the professor. Oh whoa! Those rumors had been right after all. He looked so different. Younger for one....and he was able to walk. And funny--he didn't seem to recognize her. They certainly knew each other. And she certainly respected him. And he her....she thought anyways. Huh. Maybe she wasn't the only one whose brain was being a little slow today. Though the professor was a sharp man and she seriously doubted that. But you never knew....you never knew...

But for now though, she kept her revelation to herself (or as to herself as she could with a telepath around. Damn it Casey! Now you went and did it. He's gonna think your insane!). But she still keep her actual lips zipped as it were. She didn't want to offend anyone now. Or scare him off by blabbering things that didn't need to be blabbered, "I bet they got some cool stuff up here regardless. Maybe we can find somethin' cool up here." she said, gaze turning back towards the boxes of...stuff.

After all...exploration...it was what she had come up here for right? ..... Right?

[Professor X]

To say that Charles was oblivious to the train of thoughts racing around inside this young woman's head would have been incorrect, of course. In a room alone with just one other person, of course his telepathy wanted to zoom in on her.

Equally 'of course' was the fact that he would never so deliberately intrude into another person's thought process. The specificities of her thoughts were her own, that much was clear, for Charles was not that sort of telepath. But it was also inescapable that there was only so much he could ignore and his empathy had always been more automatic than the part of his power that allowed him to deliberately read people's internal thoughts.

With this girl, Charles was only getting what she projected, the general gist of her feelings. Honestly, it was as much as skilled non-telepaths could pick up from physical cues - expression and body language and that sort of thing - so that he didn't feel too bad about, not when emotions were always easier to read than more specific thoughts.

So he knew that, originally, she didn't know who he was, and she could hardly be blamed for that. He knew when she was puzzled by the words he spoke. He knew the moment when realisation hit her. But, through all of this, it was just the gist of what was going on inside of her, nothing more than feelings. Her thoughts were her own and, politely, Charles neither responded to nor commented to on the progression that went into her realising she was talking to the younger version of the Charles Xavier she'd previously known.

Equally polite, it seemed, she didn't mention it, choosing instead to carry on with their conversation in a more normal sense. Pleased by that, the brown-haired man smiled at her and toed a particularly battered trunk with his leather shoes, promptly getting dust all over the burnished surface (not that he cared in the least, of course.)

"Try this," he said. "It belonged to my mother, I believe. Clothes from when she was a young woman. Perhaps that will interest you. If not..." He cast around a little, trying to orientate himself in a room where some of the contents were familiar from his own life and some had been added while he'd been...away. "...Hmm. There must be some boxes up here from my own childhood. Those might be worth trying to find."

[Lupine]

Casey let out a huge internal sigh of relief. She didn't mention anything and neither did he. Oh thank god! She was ever grateful for the continued silence on that matter. The idea of trying to explain it to the other was in and of itself a rather...terrifying thought. Awkward perhaps for a more appropriate term? She herself had never been a straightforward girl. She would skirt around a matter for all it was worth if it meant keeping the peace. And not pissing someone off. Or all the above. Cause that wasn't what she wanted. From anyone. Though sometimes she seemed to manage it all by herself without meaning to. But that was neither here nor there.

He didn't seem to be offended though. Or at least he was good at hiding his emotions (unlike herself) and so she was simultaneously relieved and yet still a bit on edge. She didn't want the guy thinking she wasn’t going to talk to him just because he wasn’t the same. Because no! No that wasn't it at all! He was different...but he still the Professor. He was still the man who had taken her and her brother in off the streets. Given them a home. Given them their life back. Given them their hope. Her and Lance had nothing...absolutely nothing. They had been beat down, degraded, and they had nothing. No food, no water, no hope--no nothing! And the professor came and had given them everything. And she was grateful for that....so grateful and she respected him greatly. WIthout him--she would probably be dead right now. There wasn’t much more one could do in the gain-your-respect column then that. Or at least not in her mind.

That wasn’t even mentioning who he was, what he stood for, and what he was doing for mutants in the relations sense.

That was a whole different kettle of worms. That earned her respect on a whole nother level. But that was neither here nor there. And not something she was going to get into. Not now at least.

He motioned towards the trunk and Casey was immediately intrigued. Wow this stuff belonged to his mother? This had to be some amazingly awesome stuff that she had probably never seen before! And she. couldn’t. wait! She walked over towards the trunk...being careful as she unlocked it. It was as if she was opening some grand treasure--that was how careful she was being.

Well in Casey’s mind--this was some priceless treasure. A treasure of the past. And while most of the time--she would have been averse to looking through this type of stuff (she was a very firm believer in looking forward--not backwards)--she just couldn’t help herself this time. Her curiosity had grabbed a hold of her...and it wasn’t letting go.

It was equally as carefully when she gently opened the chest...to one--not cloud herself or the other in dust and two--to reveal the unknown. ”Wow...” she said softly as she looked inside. It was all said as a matter of fact. For the moment anyways...

[Professor X]

She didn't say much. But that was okay, because Charles was used to silence. At least audible silence. Because if you were a telepath...well, you were never alone.

Charles couldn't remember a time in which he hadn't at least been able to know that other people existed in his immediate vicinity. Even as a child - young and untrained - some quirk of fate and biology and power had meant that he'd always been aware of the extent his mind could reach out beyond his own body. The distance between him and the next house, the next town, the next city, that had never mattered to him.

Because he could hear them.

Maybe not their specific thoughts, not unless he concentrated. And that he would not do, the older he had become, growing in awareness of the sanctity of the privacy of other people's minds. Of how it was wrong and almost taboo for him to invade that.

But even if he did not look into their minds, he felt them. Always, he felt them. And that meant that, since the first day he could remember conscious thought and making memories of his own, he had never been alone.

So even if she didn't say much, Charles was calm because her presence pressed quietly against the part of his mind that was always aware of other people. After her immediate presence came Erik, who was always there, no matter how far away he was, the man Charles deliberately opened his mind to. After Erik, the omnipresent whisper within his mind (comforting and familiar and always there) came the rest of the Institute, the people who lived here. Beyond them, beyond all those dazzling mutant minds there were the humans who lived close by, in Winchester. Then those in New York City, then those in the rest of the state, then, then...

Charles was aware of them all. But, polite and honourable as he was, he concentrated just on those minds to which he was allowed access. And, now, that was just Erik. And, to some degree, Jean. So when Charles spoke to Casey, it was with his mouth and not his mind.

"Anything interesting?" he asked, neutrally, as he himself knelt down to examine another dusty chest.

[Lupine]

The other spoke and Casey turned towards him, ”Wow some of this stuff is amazin’ Pro--uhh sir.” She had almost called him the Professor. Almost. But luckily she had caught herself. And with a slight pink to her cheeks, she tried to brush it off. Like it was nothing. Although it wasn’t. It was very much not nothing. And she knew that.

It was just that she didn’t know if he went by that anymore. It would have been mighty foolish of her to call someone by a name that they didn’t know. Oh the confusion. She had only know him at the Professor. And nothing more. She had called him by no other name (save perhaps for the automatic sir here or there). And now he was different. And so maybe he wanted to be called something else. And maybe he didn’t want to remember that part of his life (not that he could--but she didn’t know that).

Okay so perhaps she was overthinking this. As she did a lot of things here lately. But she simply shrugged it off. She was too insecure to mention it. Insecure about herself. And how he would have thought of her if she had said something. It was that uncertainty that kept her from being curious. That kept her from asking. That kept her quiet for the most part.

And so she simply rummaged through the trunk. Looking at all the old timey clothes in awe. Some of these pieces were amazing! So intricate. So fragile looking---and yet not. So beautiful. She grabbed a dark blue dress and smiled. She could almost picture her mother in something like this. Her mother was always into things like that. She never wore any of it...but the idea intrigued her. She had even tried her hand at making something like that. She had failed miserably...but tried all the same. Awh she missed that woman. Missed her so much.

Even though she still laughed softly as she stared down at the dress, ”I could see my ma in somethin’ like this. She was a fan of things like this. Heck its even her favorite color.” she said with a slight smile.

Reminiscing -- she was good at that she supposed.

[Professor X]

This was starting to become a very familiar conversation that he was having to have with people.

Charles didn't mind - after all, a calm, accepting sort of understanding was an integral keystone in the bridge that was his personality. He was good at not making a big deals out of things in order to spare others embarrassment, even as he corrected mistakes and misconceptions. So it was in his nature to be easy-going where supposedly tedious things were concerned.

He could hardly blame the Institute-dwellers though. The Charles Xavier they'd known, of course, had been their Professor, aged and wheelchair bound and wise, the man many of them owed control over their powers to, the roof over their heads to. He was deeply aware of the size of the shoes that had, at one point, been those he would fill one day.

Today was not that day, though, and he felt the need to draw that distinction. Even if only to give these people who had known both version of the same man a line to draw in the sand, a way to distinguish between them. And if it helped him feel less like they expected to be someone he was not...well, that was beneficial as well.

So Charles smiled and did not look at all offended by the girl's slip. "Just call me Charles," he said lightly, running his fingers along the line of a trunk's clasp and then making a slight face at the amount of dust that was transferred by doing that onto his skin. "I think it's easier for all concerned, don't you?"

Even as the girl dug through her trunk, Charles gave up on keeping his hands clean and opened his own, letting the dust settle a little before he investigated its contents. Instead, he looked towards Casey and smiled, almost a little sadly, when he recognised what she held in her hands.

"Ah...that would be one of my mother's favourite day dresses," he said quietly, letting his eyes drift over the familiar blue fabric. It was many years ago that he'd last seen it in his head...so in terms of how much time had actually passed...

He shook his head. Time passed. That was the nature of it. So, smiling again, he nodded at the rest of the trunk. "It seems a shame to have all of these clothes just lying around up here, being of no use to anyone. Perhaps it's time to let them see daylight again. Even if no one here has any use for them, there must be charities somewhere..."

His mother had supported charities in her spare time, perhaps more because she felt it was what women of her station did than anything else, but Charles refused to let that cheapen the idea that she still might have appreciated the idea.

[Lupine]

Casey never expected anything out of him. She wasn't going to do that to him. Now that wasn't to say she never expected things out of people. Cause that wasn't true. She had. Just like most other people had probably. She was used to the older professor. The professor in a wheelchair. The professor with an infinite (it seemed like) level of wisdom and a capability to give out advice that seemed to be just what you needed to hear at that point in time. She had come to expect that of the professor. As had most people.

But that was the old professor. This was a new? (new? yeah new...for lack of a better term anyways) professor. And so he was different. Though differently. Felt differently. And Casey couldn't expect those types of things she expected from the older professor out of this guy. It wasn't right. It wasn't fair of her to do that to him. And so she was trying her best to treat him differently then what she was used to. She still respected him. And was still going t respect him. It just was going to have to be a different respect then it used to be.

Yeah she made no sense sometimes. Even to her own self.

She nodded as he spoke. "Charles is a bit easier I suppose." she said sheepishly. She still felt a bit silly about the slip up. But she supposed she should have seen it coming. Still though damn it all if it didn't feel weird calling him that! Cause it did. It felt so very weird. But she was going to have to learn to live with it. That's all there was to it.

She was digging through the trunk. All the dust being kicked up from years of being stationary made her sneeze a little. But the things inside were more interesting then the dust anyways. Her ears pricked as she listened to him. She couldn't help but agree. It was indeed a shame that all of this was just sitting up here. No one was using any of this or has used it in a while. And the more she thought about it, the more she was game for an idea like that. Giving it to someone who could use it? Why not? It sounded like a great idea to her!

"That sounds like a great idea to me. If you want to, maybe I could help." she offered shyly. I mean seriously. Why not?

[Professor X]

Easier.

It was an interesting word, for it was a comparative. Easier didn't mean easy, not exactly, but it all depended on the circumstances. Compared to this or that it was less difficult, more preferable, easier.

Charles was not the man the Institute wanted. He was not Professor Charles Xavier, wise and venerable, father and mentor and leader. He was not the optimum, the person those who lived here wanted the most. He was not easy.

...but he was better than nothing. In the situation, he was easier, the next best thing and he didn't really know how he felt about that. Actually, yes, yes he did. Because for all his whimsy and idealistic leanings, Charles was capable of being practical sometimes. And he was alright with being the best he could be, trying to do all that he could.

He couldn't bring the Institute's version of himself back. That was beyond his power. But little moments like this? His own brand of contributions to the place that the man he would have once become had crafted out of dreams and moonshine and a bone-deep faith in the world being able to become better?

That he could do.

He did smile at her though, a little crookedly, because it seemed she'd forgotten something... "And what can I call you?" There were a lot of students here - some old, some young, some physically more aged than Charles himself was and that was a strange thing for them to reconcile, he thought. Could you blame him for not knowing everyone's names yet?

A polite "Bless you," was offered in response to her sneezing but Charles was already focussed on the task at hand, banishing his previous wistfulness and replacing it with the determined attitude he applied to most things, big and small. "Help is always appreciated," came his cheerful answer. He gestured vaguely at their surroundings - at the trunks and cases and boxes and bags. "I'm not sure which of these contain clothes, so if you open them all up we can see what's inside. Then, if any of them look promising, we can drag them over there and..." He wrinkled his nose a little, looking contemplative. "...then perhaps we recruit some other helpers, since carrying all of this downstairs doesn't sound like a smart thing for us to do alone."

[Lupine]

Easier.

That perhaps wasn't the best word to use. Easier implied that she had a harder time getting to know the other Professor if you will. And that was far from the truth. He was an older man yes, but she had felt just as comfortable around him as she had with her own parents. It wasn't a matter of easier to get to know or not. It was a matter of names. He wasn't the professor of the old days. He was different. Not only looked different but acted different. He was a different person all together and it would be ridiculous to refer to him as the same exact person he had been when he wasn't....

And really she should just shut up about it now.

"Oh gosh--sorry bout that. My name's Casey." she said and she couldn't help but mentally face palm. She had a slight tendency to start yakking to people at the mansion without introducing herself at first. A rather rude thing in her mind. But she supposed as long as the person wasn't freaking out with it--then she was all right. Though still she felt bad about it. Anyways....

And it was now that she readily took a hold of the clothes idea again. It was something different for her mind to take a hold of. I mean besides the face that she felt rather silly at the moment. And so she had. She gave him a thank you type nod as he said bless you when she had sneezed and then she went back sorting through the clothes. Wow there was certainly a lot of stuff here. She couldn't see herself leaving one guy to do it all by himself. There was no way...

Though it was a tall task even for the two of them. And so more help would be needed when they had to take it all downstairs. But one step at a time. They had to see what was in what. There was sure to be more then just clothes up here. And they didn't want to donate something that they didn't want to.

"Sounds like a plan to me. But--where do we even start? There are a lotta boxes up here sides the holiday stuff over there." she said pointing to the boxes that had seen the light of the sun recently. And that was a decent amount but not all of them.

[Professor X]

Casey it was then.

Charles added that to his fairly impressive catalogue of names and faces and shallow mental signatures that he 'read' from almost every single person that he encountered. He'd always had an excellent memory for details pertaining to people and, without intending to be nosy or robotic, he remembered what he learned about the people that he met. Always. It was his own unique blend of being hugely social, rather scarily intelligent and having a power that meant he had a...special perspective on interacting with other people.

"Pleasure to meet you, Casey," he remarked with his usual pleasant tone, the one that was effortlessly well-mannered, an indication of both his upbringing and the time in which he had been born. Charles was, for lack of a better or more explicit word, simply rather nice as a default setting.

(Someone had to be, he'd once reasoned with a certain amount of amusement, to make up for Erik.)

His hands found his hips, long fingers smoothing absently over the wrinkles in his slacks. Blue eyes turned this way and that, surveying the extremely large attic and the equally large number of boxes and trunks and cases that Casey had rightfully pointed out. Some, presumably the Christmas decorations, that she had indicated, bore only several months' worth of dust. Others, though, looked as if they hadn't been disturbed...

...well, since Charles himself had last touched them.

"Starting at the back sounds logical." He pointed towards where the dust was thickest. "It stands to reason that the oldest trunks are back there and that's as good a starting place as any." A mild smile warmed his face. "Besides. They might be the most interesting."

[Lupine]

Casey and Charles. The alliterative part of this amused her a little bit (as she inwardly smirked a little). Huh it always did seem to amuse her when she came across someone with the same first letter in their first name. Why? She couldn't even begin to tell you. It was just one of those weird random things that amused her sometimes...just like other random things that made no sense amused other people...

She smiled as the other spoke. It seemed like a much more easygoing thing now that they got over the small name hiccup. And now she felt less tense around him. She still watched what she said though--because she always did (err most of the time anyways) and sides--she wasn't out to make any enemies anyways. They usually saw her as an enemy first. It wasn't her fault....most of the time anyways...

She nodded as he spoke, "Yeah that makes sense to me. Oldest to the back--newer stuff to the front where you can reach it easier. Wow I can't wait to see what we find back here." she said as she ignored the dust on her jeans and made her way to the back. Her curiosity once again taking over as she couldn't wait to see what relics from the past were here.

She was excited one might say. And they would be right to say so...