Phew~ A long-ish snapshot for ya'll! This one's been long in the making, hope its not too scattered in thought and writing.
Charles, aged 4 1/2
The children sat together on the couch, enraptured by the television, the screen replaying the breaking news broadcast of the days before.
The blazing snowstorm outside that even Ororo knew not to tamper with had not stopped all day, so Alex had let the children lounge in front of the TV after a morning of lessons with Hank, with steaming beverages and snacks on hand.
Charles, bundled within woollens and thick down blankets, sat contentedly beside Jean and nibbled on a carrot stick.
They had long learned to limit Charles' sugar intake to only a few servings of sugary fruit or juice a day and no more than two servings of sweetened snacks. It took the entire household a further excruciating lesson to learn that only one person is allowed to give Charles his sugary snacks, since naturally the toddler had figured out to ask each adult separately his allowed snack serving. No one got sleep for two consecutive nights.
"He. Is. So. Cool."
Scott's attention had been glued onto the flashing screen more so than the others in the room.
"Who? That Tin-Man?"
"Shuddup Al, he's the Iron Man. And I wanna be just like him when I grow up."
Even the red visors couldn't diminish the wistful look on Scott's face. A mist of hot chocolate came bursting past Alex's lips. He turns towards his younger brother, red faced and expression bewildered.
"What!? Don't you want to be me when you grow up!? What's he got that I don't? I'm awesome!"
Scott's eyebrows clearly articulated 'bitch, please'. But before the younger Summers was able to retort, Charles piped in and raised an even more important issue.
"Does that mean Jean's gonna wanna be Ms. Potty?"
It was Jean's turn to choke on her drink, delicate hands flailing about, trying to simultaneously cover her mouth and strangle one big mouthed boy over their fortress of poofy blankets.
Scott, being the oblivious sweetheart that he is, had to go on and make the poor girl blush even harder.
"I didn't know you're a fan of Ms. Potts, Jean. But I think you're more awesome than her."
"Awww, Scotty, you say the sweetest things. That still doesn't explain why you wouldn't wanna grow to be all THIS."
Alex gestured at himself with both hands flying up and down, which had Ororo laughing and piping in the discussion, fueling everyone in the room to speak over each other about who their idols were.
Alarms should have sounded at the sight of Charles' extra wide, extra inquisitive, and thoughtful gaze at everyone around him.
It starts with Raven.
The first thing after breakfast the next day, Charles had disappeared off into the mansion, excitement in abundance, so everyone left the boy to his own devices. It was not until nearly midday when Erik began to worry that the boy had not come looking for him to ask for a drink or snack.
"Charles? Are you in here?"
Erik entered the to find Charles wearing a blue onesie and a red t-shirt slung over his head upside down through the neck opening, to act as hair.
"Hello Magnet-toes!"
"Uhhhh... Charles?"
"It's Miss Teek!"
Well, now that Erik came out of his shock, he can see in a broad sense that Charles' getup kind of did resemble Raven, in the way a boy clad all in blue with a red shirt used as fake hair can. Oh, not to mention the two pairs of mismatched blue socks, bundled into balls, and stuff under the onesie, in what Erik assumes should be Raven's breasts, but one has managed to fall down to the boy's stomach level.
"Okaaay Mystique... Did you wan-"
"Hold on a sec!"
Charles lounges himself behind the expensively upholstered sofa, making little excited and struggling noises. After much ruffling of cloth, Charles emerges in a different outfit, but with a yellow silk scarf for hair. At the last minute, Charles remembers to stuff the sock-boobs into his shirt.
"Hello, Erik! I'm Raven now!"
"Errr… Hi Raven, would you like-"
"Wait!"
Before Erik could stop Charles, the boy has dashed off behind the sofa again to change. This weird exchange continues for the rest of the afternoon, with Erik unable to get more than a full sentence spoken, and Charles increasingly sloggy with his excitement and movements.
Just before dinner, an exhausted Charles tugs at Raven's shirt, looking forlornly up at his sister with pouty lips. The boy's chocolate curls are damped by sweat, ruffled in every direction, his cheeks a bright apple red.
"Raven... You're too much work. I don'wanna be you when I grow up."
The shapeshifter has completely no idea what was going on, and the concerned yet confused look on Erik's face meant that the man didn't know any better either. All they were able to tell was that during dinner, Charles put his razor-sharp, bright blue eyes focus on his next target: Sean.
Put simply, the following days were on the humorous side of chaotic for the mansion.
Being Sean meant a day yelling and screaming into a handmade paper megaphone, which everyone had to give props to the boy for figuring out how to make himself. Nevertheless, Ororo didn't look sorry when she 'accidently' lost control of her abilities and formed a little dark cloud atop the megaphone, letting a sizeable downpour of rain, eviscerating the paper into a slushy mush. Every single piece of paper had at the same time disappeared from the mansion, while Scott and Jean smugly high-fived each other.
Charles found himself enjoying being Hank, wrapped tightly within a thick blue woollen sweater borrowed from Alex, Angel's extra long blue feather boa, two patches of furry blue ribbon stuck onto his brows, and a pair of spectacles on his head while helping Hank with his research. It wasn't until the feathers had Charles sneezing, making his faux-brows drop into and wrecking their third attempt at analyzing a dust sample of Logan's adamantium did Charles obey Hank's pleading puppy eyes and got changed into his own clothes.
Angel was a tougher challenge for the young telepath, as he tried to flap his makeshift wings, made out of two of the thinnest white towels he could find, but only ending up knocking things over instead of lifting him off the ground. His attempts at acidic spit was also a fail, most of his saliva landing down his chin and throat, some of it upwards into his nostrils.
Charles had slightly better luck as Janos, wearing a dark brown shirt on his head, and armed with a hairdryer in each hand. Sadly, it meant he had to stay near an electrical outlet, and very few allowed both hairdryers to be plugged and used at the same time.
For Ororo, Charles learnt his lesson with Janos, so the boy used instead a single, larger electrical fan, while donning a white shirt for hair. The boy also had ice cubes and handmade lightning bolt cutouts at the ready, but gave up when all the ice cubes had melted and ruined his cutouts.
The next day had Charles walking around with a round plate stuck to his chest, and twirling around with shiney red strings. Scott was first to figure out who the boy was emulating, and smugly told his brother, "that's why I don't want to be you when I grow up, I can't pull off the plate-on-my-chest look."
Sadly, Logan wasn't around to witness Charles' adorable attempt as him, with a croissant tied to his head as the burly man's pointy hairstyle, a celery stick in his mouth as a cigar, and large serving forks in each hand as claws.
It was surprising that no one thought of how messy things would get when Charles turned his sights to Azazel. The boy's quick intellect had him sourcing the blackened soot and ash in the cooled down fireplace. After much pleading, Charles finally gave up his stash of black powder, but Azazel's felt his heart sting at the poor child's pout. So the teleporter snuck a bag of much-less-lung-threatening flour into Charles' possession. The boy then spent the day lugging around a bag of self rising flour and throwing handfuls of it in the air then dashing off in giggles to hide under a chair before anyone can beg for the giddy boy to stop trying to be Azazel. The teleporter himself had thought this was the highest form of praise until he caught a sight of himself in a mirror, looking more pastel pink than blood red, while Raven had laughed so hard, she inhaled a whole handful of flour. All white powdery substances could not be found within a five mile radius for weeks.
It was easy to guess it was Scott's turn when Charles donned a pair of red spectacles, handmade from cardboard and painted a vibrant red. Unfortunately the boy hadn't known to cut holes into the lense area so that at least he could see, and spent more than an hour trying to leave the large library. He did enjoy being hand fed his meals and drinks by Erik though.
Only a short half hour was attempted by the boy at being Emma. It was the middle of winter, and there was only so long a boy could sashay around in nothing but a pair of white briefs. Not to mention the scrunched up balls of tin foil, Charles' interpretation of Emma's diamond breasts, was giving the poor boy a rash.
Everyone had thought Charles had finally lost steam in his little endeavor at finding his role model, when in the afternoon the boy seemed to act like himself, even using his telepathy for the first time in over a week. The only thing weird was his sudden infatuation with all things Scott, and soon a sputtering and scarlet red Jean dragged the younger boy with her into her room and convinced the boy to stop
The next day, everyone was anticipating Charles' final role play. It had not escaped anyone's notice that one person had been blaringly omitted so far. Surprising, since the young boy didn't usually have the willpower to 'safe the best till last', especially when it came to a certain metal lover. But the image of a little boy draped in a maroon towel with a silver salad bowl tipped upside down over his head never came to fruition, as the day was dwindled into darkness, and a satiated Charles cuddled comfortably into Hank's warm fur after finishing dessert post dinner. Throughout the day, Erik's expression changed from embarrassed anticipation to befuddled panic to downright slouching in a corner drawing sad squiggles on the polished hardwood floor with his finger.
"So ah... Why don't you want to be Erik, Charles?"
Raven's voice was soft and slightly perturbed, but her face was obviously a breath away from choking on laughter, nostrils twitching in uncontrolled mirth. Because Erik's look of constipated self-consciousness with a pound of hurt pride is absolutely hilarious.
"Ew! No! That's yuck!"
Everyone can just about see Erik's soul freeze and shatter into tiny flecks of gloomy dust. Before Erik could shrink further into the corner walls, Charles piped up again.
"We're married! Can't have Erik marry Erik. That's weird! Erik isn't a eagle-testicle bats-turd!"
"A-a what?"
Raven's voice with shaking and breathless, unable contain her laughter any longer.
"Eagle-testicle bats-turd! ! I asked Hank what it means! And Erik isn't any of those things!"
Off to the side, Sean can be seen giving Alex a punch to the arm, grumbling, "I told you he heard you call Erik an egotistical bastard."