006 | hello darkness my old friend | action; ota
[ If you haven't seen his thin, evil-laden, leather-clad self lately, that's probably for good reason. He's become more anti-social than usual. In fact, he's all but vanished for some time. The only people he's seen on a regular basis are his students--and perhaps a small, black-haired voodoo-toying child.
Megamind may have slipped back into post- ( Read more... )
Except there had been a certain lack of…something in her life, and she finds herself desperately craving old interactions from home, more now than ever.
Specifically, those with him.
She’s not sure how she found herself in the doorway of his classroom, leaning against the wood, ankles crossed and a wry smile twisting its way onto her lips as the chalk rolls to a stop by her feet. Leaning, she picks it up.]
Will apple turnovers do?
[She held up a brown paper bag and shook it gently at him. Just the sight of him was…anchoring.
That was confusing.]
And coffee, if you’ve a want for that, too. [In the same red mug she’d brought him before, the one emblazoned with her old logo, KMCP8. She doesn’t wait for an invitation, ( ... )
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Just her voice did terrible things to his insides--the confusion, frustration, worry and need--and, quite suddenly, he was...glad. To see her. And awkward. And, as always, an insurmountable amount of surprise.
He turns in his chair to look at her--blinking as she automatically comes closer--oh, sweet Hera, the woman has coffee and confectionery.
His eyes flick from her full hand, her face, the chalk. With a sigh, he reaches out and takes the offending white stick]
Turned into a projectile, but. [he gives a half shrug, turning over the chalk in his fingers, marking his gloves...he clears his throat, trying not to sound as pathetic as he feels]
..Hello, Roxanne.
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It worked. You hit my shoe. [She offered quietly, making herself at home as she promptly took a seat upon a bare edge of his desk, legs crossed carefully.
What was she doing here, again? What had possessed her to come to him, deliberately seek him out in the middle of the night? And not only just seeking him out - but bringing him things again, as if they were…as if…
She cleared her throat.]
Evening, Megamind.
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When had things taken such a dramatic shift?
When had she started plaguing his thoughts far more often than she used to? When had they become...friendly? Ish?
His eyes flick to her shoe--tearing his gaze away almost immediately, the shoe attached to the foot, attached to the ankle, attached to the calf, attached to the---
He shifted in his chair, reaching for the coffee] Is this going to become a habit?
[he takes an experimental sip...and raises an eyebrow; the woman remembered what he said about his coffee] Because I may faint in my current condition.
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It was really such a vivid memory - her mind jumps back to it at night sometimes when she’s least expecting it. A flicker, the barrier, and then it’s gone - the fence disappears and the force of the Mist had slammed into her, leaving her utterly helpless. He’d been there instantly, her hand in his, then body heat and warmth, then screams…and…He’d never left her. Not once.
Her face pale, she gave a little chuckle.]
Don’t get too used to it, Megamind. I only play waitress under special circumstances.
[Like when someone she undeniably cares about has been glaringly, disturbingly, painfully quiet. Her eyes flick over him carefully, taking him in, each curve of his body and angle of his jaw, the color of his skin and his eyes, so bright ( ... )
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Or inexplicably expresses concern in the strangest ways. Or care. His eyes flick to the chalkboard--the etching there from his photographic memory of her 'valentine's' gift...]
Mighty Zeus forbid. [he finally looks away from the chalk and sips at his coffee...he timidly goes for the bag, pulling out an apple turnover--suddenly realizing:] ...I haven't eaten all day.
[ooc: Happy Belated Birthday, bb~ ♥ ]
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...You haven't?
[She sounds a mix of emotions - surprised, astonished...irritated. Concerned.]
Then I guess you better get to it. [She idly lifts her own mug, taking a small sip of her own coffee before setting it back down, uncrossing her legs and recrossing them in the other direction.]
I haven't seen you in a while.
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He swallows some, picking a piece off the pastry--what did that mean. Of course, he knows what it means--he isn't completely oblivious of people and their meanings under their actions. It's just...when it's Roxanne, lately, is mind has the tendency to turn to fruit salad. Like now.
He chews thoughtfully, watching her sip her coffee--the sparkle on her collar catching his attention. He stops eating all together, seeing his gift neatly settled on her clothing. In public. Where people could ask about it. Does she tell them who it's from? Does she lie? Does she tell them the truth? Does she smile? Her last snaps him back into the present.] Hm--?
Oh. [a pause]
...I've been...[contemplating his place in the universe]...finding things to do.
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She sets her mug down, thinking on something, on him, her, Metro Man - the things they’d been through in the short amount of time they’d been here together. He’d been quiet, so quiet recently and she didn’t like it, didn’t appreciate it.]
I’ve mi--
[She pauses, frowning to herself. ‘I’ve missed you’. She’s missed him. That was the truth of it, the black and white inescapable solid truth. His charm and wit, sarcasm and endless drive.]
You’ve been hiding.
[She sounds almost accusatory, angry. She folds her arms over her chest and levels a frosty look in his direction, cool blues and acid greens.]
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That--couldn't have been what it sounded like. But what other word in the English dictionary could it be in context to this conversation?
Mi..Mi, Mi---had she missed him?
Should he tell her how she's taken up his thoughts when he's been alone? Now that there were no plans and schemes, he still thought about her, relentlessly--and worried about her? That he couldn't bring himself to search her out, no matter how much he had wanted to, out of fear she would push him away?
He shrinks from her last--and that look, moreso. Sweet burning Hera, that woman could freeze Hell in one swipe of those blue orbs.
...he stands after a moment, moving away from that angry look, crossing his arms.]
...
[he sighs, staring hard at the chalkboard]
...I know.
[he roams ( ... )
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And where does that leave the rest of us? Where does that leave me? I haven’t seen you in…over a month, Megamind - a month! [She gets to her feet, gesturing. The lapel pin glints in the low light and she whirls, glaring at him in that chair.]
I thought you left - but then I thought no, surely he wouldn’t - Megamind doesn’t just give up, nonono. He fights, and he perseveres, he’s stubborn, like me. He wouldn’t just leave, would he?
[It’s unclear if she’s talking to him or to herself. What IS obvious is that she’s had this conversation with herself already, possibly countless times.]
He never gives up - you. Don’t. Give. Up! It’s one of your best qualities! So, I think to myself - let me go find him, let me see if he’s in his classroom, and I’ll even bring…bring coffee the way he likes it, and pastries in case he’s hungry and because I miss him for some unknown reason, and here you are, sitting here staring at a wall and telling me you haven ( ... )
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And especially when the origin if this fury is over his own well-fare. This, for all intents and purposes, is the last thing he expects from this woman. He swallows, staring into those burning blue orbs, unsure of what to say.
What to do.
He can't help but notice how close she is. How truly upset she is. How...sorry he is. He's never felt quite this sorry since...there's really only one thing he can think to say, as an apology dies in his throat. It couldn't possibly be enough, regardless.
He swallows. ]
...I promise.
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She's also aware of just how close she is to him. The rise and fall of her chest as she struggles to catch her breath has her almost touching him.]
...Good.
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He's rather unsettled at the moment--just how much remorse he's legitimately experiencing. For things he's done his entire life, even. Minion never voiced his concerns when the genius would slip into one of these funks and vanish into the lair for days. He never thought about it. But, as Roxanne is privy to do, she's made him think about it.
And he very much would like to call the fish. Later.
She's still awfully close, heat radiating from her. Almost too close. Roxanne wasn't an avid perfume wearer, he didn't think--the scent was simply her. Megamind often admired her cheekbones, her jaw--her bone structure was particularly beautitful. From a--scientific stand point. Even when she was furious.
Great Zeus.
He tries to slide away--to help her cool down, and to keep his head on the situation, and not on...well. Upon doing so--he glances at the chalkboard, a few of his ruminations wiped ( ... )
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She should back up and move away, but she finds herself rooted to the spot, unable to tear herself away and make the effort to take those couple of much needed steps backwards.
She caught the briefest hint of leather.
Yes. She was much too close. When he was finally the one to slip away, she released a breath she hadn't realized that she had been holding, one that was relieved and...
And irritated.
There's something here, something that's weighing on both of them that she knows they both can feel. She's getting tired of this...dance they've been doing. She's never been a fan of that - she prefers to get right to the point, the root of the matter.
She's actually surprised, though, when she reaches to catch his wrist before he can start getting his genius on again.]
What's going on, between me and you.
[Her voice is flat, tone low and a little gravelly.]
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He wonders if he should wipe it own. If he should start over. If they should start over. How was anyone like him supposed to start over with anyone, anything--
But before he could act on his rising anxiety, he feels her slender hand catch his wrist. It takes a moment before her question registers, as he was focusing on the heat of her fingers through his glove.
He swallows, unable to meet her eyes.] Going? Going on? There can't--that is to say, nothing is really--what implications do you--that is--
[word salad, word salad, word salad, shut up, Megamind.]
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