[Hey, you think that's bad? Try being the oldest (Thor doesn't count) guy on a team of superheroes that includes a supersoldier, a Norse God, and a green rage machine. Out of the suit? He can bench press a good amount, sure, and knows basic boxing techniques. But he's no assassin. He's no soldier. At least Charles has something extra in this place.

His hand is down before he knows what's happening, expression bewildered as he places the flask next to him and lets it go.] ... Huh. [That... hadn't been what he'd been planning to do.

He turns almost unfocused eyes at Charles, still squinting, taking in the fingers pressed to his temple and grinning, giggling and raising his own hand to mimic the motion, pointing and snapping at Charles immediately after] I get it. Jedi mind trick! Ha, nice, that- nnnno, no hold on.

[He furrows his brow, closes his eyes, and presses the back of his wrist to his forehead.]

Not- fuck, my head. Get out'f it. Or make this stop. Useful, be a useful psychic.

[Oh... memory. He stops, actually thinks for a moment, and winces.

If he doesn't focus on a blackout, he can pretend that he doesn't remember, can delude himself into it never happened. But his mind... how it works, how quickly and accurately it documents what he sees around him, how he analyzes it all... his blackouts are rarely blackouts.]

... The watercolors offended me on a personal level.