Fast Cars and Beautiful People

[magnetic_fire]

Erik paused in front of a full-length mirror in the penthouse he leased for whenever he had business in New York City. He frowned at his suit, concentrated for a moment, then considered the effect the change had on his look. Satisfied, he tucked in his handkerchief, grabbed his keys, checked his wallet, and then headed out of the apartment, arming

Comments

[_steelmagnolia_]

Rogue makes her way out front to the car.

Just looking at it makes her heart speed up a little bit. Not that she'll specifically mention that to anyone. It isn't proper. Carefully, she runs a gloved hand along the shiny exterior before she opens the car.

And pops the hood.

She could be here awhile, just looking at the engine, not even touching it.

[magnetic_fire]

The engine is immaculate - and, apparently, has been tinkered with. Fairly extensively. The stock of the engine is the same beast that was designed by Uncle Enzo and his talented design crew over in Italy but it's had a great deal of additional material tucked away elegantly into it - devices without an immediate use or function.

[_steelmagnolia_]

Oh, she wants to pull it apart and find out what does what. What does every little thing do and how was it put in and... She's going to start touching the engine soon.

That might be bad.

[magnetic_fire]

The car seems to invite being tinkered.

"Look at me!" it whispers. "I possess secrets. Secrets you don't know. Wouldn't you like to know them?"

[_steelmagnolia_]

Rogue leans over, the setting sun not being helpful, casting shadows on parts of the interior. Still, those gloved hands run across the engine before she starts to look more carefully at some of these additions.

"Oh, what a lovely car you are and you know it too, don't yah?"

[icetastic]

GET AWAY FROM THAT CAR!!

There's quickly a pair of very cold hands on her, trying to pull her away.

[_steelmagnolia_]

"You're a...."

The shock of the hands through the layers of slik causes her to jump a bit. It feels much more solid than it is.

"Bobby! What the hell...?"

[icetastic]

No, you, what the hell?!

Rule #7 of being an X-Man: Do not go near anything owned by Magneto. It will probably explode.

[_steelmagnolia_]

"This is a very lovely piece of Italian machinery and Ah am appreciatin' it, in all of its sexiness." Rogue looks at him, confused and maybe a little hurt.

[icetastic]

It's owned by Magneto. It's a four-wheeled death trap. Literally.

Do. Not. Touch.

He knew a lot of people had a different view of Magneto than the one he held, but really. How the hell could anyone trust that man?

[_steelmagnolia_]

"It is not, Bobby. And Ah think Ah can handle a car if it explodes. Or does whatever it is you think it is going to do."

Even if she doesn't agree with him, she's pulling away from the car. Of course, she's doing that because she'd pulling away from Bobby as well.

[icetastic]

There were a few sounds of frozen frustration, and Bobby followed that with the most mature response he could think of at the moment:

...so!?

[_steelmagnolia_]

Rogue reaches up and rubs at her forehead, "He got me ballet tickets for Christmas. Ah'm goin' tah the ballet, Bobby."

There is a headache brewing behind her eyes.

[icetastic]

With him?!

What. The. Fuck!?

[_steelmagnolia_]

"Yes, Bobby. With him."

Rogue sighs softly. One arm is wrapped around her middle, still rubbing at her forehead with the opposite hand.

[icetastic]

His arms were across his chest.

What? Was Apocalypse too busy to go or something?