Prompt Post: ROUND FOUR
ROUND FOUR IS CLOSED
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<< ROUND THREE | ALL ROUNDS | ROUND FIVE >>
Rules post.
Posting Guidelines.
Flat view.
Updates Post (WIPs only)
Fills Post (completed Fills only)
damalur's firstclasskink on Delicious.
Volunteers always welcome.
There is a delay on comments appearing when there is a URL in the message body. This is due to an LJ anti-spam ( Read more... )
'CIA/Secret government faction (your choice) snatches the kids from the mansion. bonus point if its made AU and Charles can still walk, but with the help of a cane because goddamn he would work that thing like a badass aristocrat. so anyway. they got the kids, Charles' blows up a temper like no other because -HELLO, THEY TOOK HIS KIDS- but knows that he can't do much alone. cue Charles contacting Raven, Raven freaks out because Charles is pissed and she relays the message to Erik who looses it a little because THEY'RE HIS KIDS TOO DAMMIT. so basically, guys? I just need them to Hulk Smash through the facility to get their kids back. put away those silly debates and frustrating stubbornness and just focus on murdering the bastards who took their babies.'
surely those two love the kids enough for that, yeah?
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omg someone please fill this
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MY GOD I WANT THIS!!
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Honey, They Took the Kids
One of the interesting quirks of being a telepath is that the world is hardly ever silent. You can be in a room all by yourself, and there will still be a slight buzzing in your ears so long as there are people somewhere nearby. It’s not always distinguishable, but it’s always there, dull and at times irritating. Today, however, Charles is excited for the buzzing that will soon be filling his ears. He’s missed Hank’s constant stream of new idea and inventions and Sean’s bewilderment at how big the mansion is and his never-ending need for food. Alex’s mind is a little darker sometimes, because of the traumas in his life, some of which Charles can relate to, but it’s still reassuring to hear his thoughts and know he’s still around, especially when they’re the not-quite-happy-but-not-sad-either images he’s been seeing lately.
Needless to say, Charles wishes the taxi ride would be a little shorter. There’s always a slight bittersweet feeling to rounding the corner, seeing the mansion, and knowing neither Erik nor Raven will be there to greet him. Coming home the first time had felt like a hard slap across the face, burning and harsh, but now it’s lessened to a light stinging. It still hurts, because he misses the two terribly, but it’s tolerable, so long as he has the reassurance of Hank’s, Sean’s, and Alex’s minds when he walks into the house.
It isn’t until they’ve nearly reached the mansion when Charles realizes he’s been projecting his anxiousness to get home on the driver of the taxi, and the man has been going almost ten miles over the speed limit. Charles eases up on his mind, and the man visibly relaxes, as though a burden has been taken off his shoulder, and slows to a more appropriate, yet disheartening speed. He could easily have the man punch it all the way there, but he doesn’t like using his power for his own selfish benefit. Plus, it’s an excellent test of patience, this agonizingly long drive home. Hopefully he won’t have to endure it much longer in a cab, though. Hank’s working on a new vehicle for them, one Charles will still be able to operate even with the weakened use of his legs. He seemed very excited about it when he was showing the blueprints to Charles, chattering excitedly about engines and ‘sonic hyper drive,’ and even more insane things whirling about in his head. If it weren’t so fascinating and useful, Charles might actually be terrified of Hank’s intelligence.
The mansion comes into view, and Charles releases a long breath and tries not to focus in and hear the boys’ garble of thoughts before he gets home. It’s another test of his endurance by not honing in on their familiar thought patterns. Instead he enjoys the picturesque landscape, the sloping hills and the bright green grass glistening with fresh rainwater, while the sky above is just beginning to clear, the dark gray clouds receding slowly like the tide. It’s a lovely day to make some hot chocolate for Sean and coffee for himself, Alex, and Hank and talk about what the boys have been doing while he’s been away, what he’s been doing. Sadly, he doesn’t have a new mutant in tow because the one he was after skipped out of town shortly before Charles arrived (a possibility Charles had been well aware of at the time, but this particular mutant was in desperate need, so it was a chance he was more than willingly to take). He tries not to go after too many at once, for the sake of remaining inconspicuous. He’s learned from experience that having too many young mutants, who have never met someone like them in their lives, in once place is a very dangerous idea. Amusing at times, but very, very irresponsible.
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“Here, let me get your bag, sir,” the cabbie offers, reaching for the duffel.
“No, no,” Charles insists. “I believe I have it. It’s really not that heavy.” He slings it over his shoulder to emphasize the point. The man shrugs, and Charles pays him, telling him to keep the change. He feels terribly condescending, but from the brief (and unintentional) looks into the man’s mind he knows he has a wife who’s pregnant and a house payment that he’s afraid he won’t make, so Charles makes sure to slip him an little extra. It’s not as though he needs it. The man smiles at him before biding Charles adieu and driving off.
Charles begins the semi-painful walk up the long pathway leading to the front door. He hates having to use a cane to get around because the impact of it hitting the ground sends a painful jolt throughout his body, but if he doesn’t, he just looks like a bumbling fool, tripping and barely able to walk. It’s better than being confined to a wheelchair, he supposes, a fate he narrowly escaped thanks to Hank’s brilliance.
Once he’s in the doorway, he really focuses, seeking out the three minds he knows should be somewhere nearby. He methodically goes through every possible location in the house, every nook, cranny, and crevice. He scans every possible place, practically pleading for someone to be there.
But he is greeted only with silence, and it takes his breath away, like a punch to the stomach, but it’s the only explanation.
His boys are gone. Figuratively, as in dead, or literally, as in disappeared, it doesn’t matter. Sean, Alex, and Hank are gone.
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