Something that particularly struck me in my rewatching of X-Men: First Class was one of the conversations between Charles and Raven. Charles says, 'Don't make me read your mind'; Raven says, 'You promised me you would never do that.'

And Charles says, 'Until recently, I never had to read your mind to know what you were thinking.'

This fascinates me. Because he's lived his whole life with the ability to hear what other people are thinking, Charles feels he's entitled to know everyone else's thoughts. In his head, 'I didn't know what you were thinking' is a perfectly legitimate justification for reading someone's mind. His promise that he would never read Raven's mind was a token gesture, because he didn't feel he needed to; I don't think he would have made that promise if he didn't feel confident in his ability to determine her thoughts anyway.

I suppose his attitude is sort of analogous to my reaction when I'm trying to converse with someone through a closed door; at some point, I'm going to ask whether I can come in, because I hate being deprived of visual feedback in a verbal conversation. Charles is used to mental feedback and feels off-balance without it.

I'm not sure what my point is here. I suppose it's that Charles doesn't understand the concept of mental privacy. Not only does he not respect the mental privacy of others; he doesn't realise that there's anything there to respect. In essentially saying 'you can't expect me to keep my promise if I don't know what you're thinking', he makes it clear that he doesn't really comprehend the importance of that promise; he doesn't understand why Raven might not want him inside her head. It's as inexplicable to him as it would be to me if a friend of mine said, 'Hey, could you possibly close your eyes whenever we talk from now on? It's just that the idea of you looking at me makes me really uncomfortable.'

Charles Xavier, you are such an intriguing man. His power seems like one that would engender empathy, but he lacks it in crucial areas like these, and I find that so interesting.

I love thinking about how the mutants relate to their powers, and how they'd react if they were suddenly taken away. If you took away Erik's mutation, for example, it would destroy him. Even though he must have terrible associations with it from his childhood, he loves his mutation; he thinks it's what sets him apart and makes him superior to humans, yes, but he also loves it on a more personal level. He's so very happy and animated in the 'go on, go on, I can deflect it' scene. Charles rather takes his powers for granted; if you asked him, he'd probably say he didn't rely on them that much, but take his telepathy away and make him interact with a stranger (or indeed with anyone other than Raven) and I imagine he'd have quite a lot of trouble. Alex, on the other hand, doesn't seem entirely comfortable with the power he has at his disposal, and he might be more relieved than distressed to wake up without it one day.

I CAN'T STOP TALKING. And of course I'm speculating on characters that already have decades of characterisation behind them. All my pondering is based on a single film! I have no authority whatsoever! Still, X-Men canon seems to be fairly convoluted and self-contradictory (just ask Erik/c Le(h)nsherr), so...