𝐒𝐖𝐈𝐅𝐓 (X-Men ~ Peter Maximoff)

Think Logically

Near the end of the nineteenth century – 1880 to be more precise - a family in the upper class of the Victorian era had formed a routine of eating dinner and then going outside to play a friendly game of Tennis in their lawn. The family rather quite enjoyed the sport, and with all the practice they got, it was no surprise that they were fairly decent at the game. For the majority of the year, there was no issue playing outside, but when winter came around the corner, things changed.

Still wanting to keep up the hobby, but not wanting to risk pneumonia or frostbite, the family were forced to find a solution. With a house the size as theirs, one would expect them to shift a few pieces of furniture and bring the net inside to play, which would've been a fairly simple option, but as it turned out, they had a different, slightly unusual, idea.

With the dining table cleared of dishes and food, the long section of polished wood was apparently what caught the eye of the players, and so, using books as rackets and a champagne cork as the ball, they played a game of what would be nicknamed 'table tennis'.

Years down the line, David Foster decided to make a table specifically designed to play tennis at, with secured nets at either side of table to prevent the ball (which James Gibb would make plastic in 1901 for optimal use) from flying across the room. The product was successful, many well off households purchasing it for entertaining guests and children. After that, the design constantly changed, until somewhere along the line, a sturdy green plastic table with white paint was created, and accompanied with bats composed of wood and rubber it became perhaps the most successful version of table tennis equipment yet.

Used in competitions, as small as high school matches and as big as the Olympics, it was slightly strange for the advanced table to be sitting in a room belonging to someone with no desire to play the game for more than ten minutes. What would've really shocked whoever slaved over the design and ergonomics of the table, however, was how far it had strayed from its original purpose.

The green paint was lost under a swarm of heavy books opened at what appeared to be random pages and hundreds of loose sheets of paper covered in dates, scribbles and advanced equations and formulas. To someone who hadn't been present when the mess was made, it looked like a disgraced nuclear physicist had been attempting to solve time travel – and in all honestly, the truth wasn't far from that.

Getting back to sleep had been down right impossible, Jennifer's mind far too restless to be turned off in Peters protective clasp. She had scared him, she knew that, but the news simply wasn't something she could be calm and logical about at the time of realisation, and even now only one of those ideals had been reached.

As soon as the alarm clock on the stand had started beeping Jennifer had jumped out of the bed, grabbing a notebook and pen to try to prove her theory / accusation. There wasn't a single drop of doubt in her head that Charles was the culprit of her misery and anguish, but she wanted, needed, proof. It was a compulsion, daring her to talk unprecedented steps to figure it out, and the tunnel vision was almost enough for Jennifer to be able to block out her anger at the clean shaven, British man.

The first issue with time travel was that points in time weren't connected in anyway. There were no paths, no highways between the past, present and future. The future was the direct product of the past, and there were no slip roads or shortcuts to anywhere other than the present. And yet somehow, Jennifer had found one.

Time was relative, the famous Albert Einstein had proclaimed, receiving some confusion and strange looks at first, but later became known as a certified genius. Almost everyone was familiar with the phrase, even used it as an excuse to be late to class, but understanding it wasn't quite as common of an occurrence.