With 'freedom' comes a rather heavy sigh from Charles though he stays seated, moving only to wiggle his toes and rub his fingers. He was fairly certain he hadn't broken his arm, but the confirmation from Erik (poor bedside manner or not) is still welcome. "I suppose ruffled feathers are survivable," he responds flatly, but it's the lack of inflection from emotional exhaustion not from annoyance.
He wants to tackle this as he would tackle any problem; methodically but morally, head-on and immediately executing whatever implementation possible. The only issue with that is that as far as he understands it he is the problem, which immediately calls into question his ability to solve it. "The theory I held onto was that even if I were consumed by anger I could remove myself from that state well enough to retain my ability to make logical arguments for or against my behavior. A feeling of unease should not have lead to all this." So where does the fault lie? Where is the flaw that was so easily exploited? How does Charles erase it to ensure it's never used against anyone else?
"I suppose now I know which of my personal standards I can actually manage to uphold. I didn't kill anyone. I didn't cause any...permanent damage. My lashing out remained verbal only." Which is interesting, in a way Charles doesn't ever want his behavior to be interesting - it suggests a hypocritical double-standard that he can't quite pinpoint, which tells him that he should leave it now until he feels more certain and stable in his own arguments.
Lest he begin to pick apart at everything he's ever claimed to stand for. Even now he wonders if he's overreacting to the day's events but he reassures himself that no, this is serious. The other residents of the City may be used to curses altering their behavior and causing them to become dangerous to others, but Charles is not willing to accept that it should be taken quite so lightly.
None of which is answering Erik's question of food, however. "I could eat." Putting his left arm on the corner of the table (it really is a slim miracle he didn't manage to bash his head in on that edge going down) Charles presses his forehead to the palm of his hands and lets out a slow, shaky breath.
no subject
He wants to tackle this as he would tackle any problem; methodically but morally, head-on and immediately executing whatever implementation possible. The only issue with that is that as far as he understands it he is the problem, which immediately calls into question his ability to solve it. "The theory I held onto was that even if I were consumed by anger I could remove myself from that state well enough to retain my ability to make logical arguments for or against my behavior. A feeling of unease should not have lead to all this." So where does the fault lie? Where is the flaw that was so easily exploited? How does Charles erase it to ensure it's never used against anyone else?
"I suppose now I know which of my personal standards I can actually manage to uphold. I didn't kill anyone. I didn't cause any...permanent damage. My lashing out remained verbal only." Which is interesting, in a way Charles doesn't ever want his behavior to be interesting - it suggests a hypocritical double-standard that he can't quite pinpoint, which tells him that he should leave it now until he feels more certain and stable in his own arguments.
Lest he begin to pick apart at everything he's ever claimed to stand for. Even now he wonders if he's overreacting to the day's events but he reassures himself that no, this is serious. The other residents of the City may be used to curses altering their behavior and causing them to become dangerous to others, but Charles is not willing to accept that it should be taken quite so lightly.
None of which is answering Erik's question of food, however. "I could eat." Putting his left arm on the corner of the table (it really is a slim miracle he didn't manage to bash his head in on that edge going down) Charles presses his forehead to the palm of his hands and lets out a slow, shaky breath.