ficlet february 24: something from a picture
So close to the end and yet this was such a struggle to start. I was saying to Margaret today that it's not so much that I'm feeling burnt out from writing--I'm feel pretty good about writing overall!--but that I'm just tired from the February from hell. Just today and tomorrow and I can take a break, though!
This is for "something from a picture," and I think when I wrote that prompt, I was imagining the way I used to use pictures for It's Productivity, a writing comm I used to run on LJ, but instead I ended up scrolling through my "prompt" tag on tumblr, narrowing it down to three things I had in my head, and asking pearl_o which I should write.
Here is the picture! And here is a bunch of words about Charles' struggle to keep Erik likable when they do press together. The ending is pretty weak, but whatever.
***
Ficlet February 24: "something from a picture"
Erik hates press.
There's a part of Charles that finds this hilarious. He remembers, of course, being pinned under metal scaffolding on the lawn of the White House while Erik committed a dramatic and over the top display of treason for several dozen video cameras that he made sure to position in such a way that it made him look properly menacing. He remembers, too, the other displays of mutant superiority, always showy, always over the top. A demonstration to show the humans how powerful they were, when really, he could do more for the larger mutant cause by acting covertly.
Erik liked the dramatic, though. Charles always chalked it up to his ego, which was large enough to rival Charles' own, or maybe a lack of sense of scale. His acts of violence and political statements were dramatic. His declarations of love were dramatic. His reaction to perceived wrongs against him was dramatic.
Charles blames the teenagers for draining the drama from him. One can only work with teens and their intense feelings, friendships, loves, rivalries, and reactions for so long before it becomes very clear what's an overreaction and what isn't.
Erik mellowed. The drama dissipated, for the most part, overtaken by Erik's slow slide into long-suffering teacher. He looks condescendingly down on the end-of-the-world heartache of their students, and Charles has to bite his tongue to keep from reminding Erik that he once told Charles that their separation was killing him sure as any bullet and that he'd never be whole again until they were together.
The irony, though, is that Erik hates the press, now.
He hates interviews. He hates cable news. He hates bloggers. He hates even the most respected and distinguished of publications. They all, he says, live to make a spectacle of the lives of those doing good work.
Charles only rarely reminds Erik that a cape and a shiny helmet are something of a spectacle as well.
Press is a must, though. He'd a public figure and so is Erik, now. The school is occasionally in the spotlight and the foundation is frequently in the spotlight and while they have younger, fresher, attractive staff members to do quick pick-up interviews and supply quotes for questioning reporters, there are certain things that call for the weight of sixty years of mutant rights activism and tutelage. That means Charles and sometimes it means Erik, too.
Erik is never pleased by those requests.
Charles isn't quite pleased by them, either. Erik on camera means Charles minding Erik on camera, Charles apologizing for Erik on and off camera, Charles snapping at Erik to be mature for one bloody minute, and only barely keeping himself from shouting, "All this from a man who once monologued for two hours in front of ten news crews he held hostage?" (The one exception to this is Stephen Colbert, whose satirical alter ego Erik finds delightful. It's the one appearance Charles never has to bribe him into.) It's a pain is what it is, a pain to get Erik to agree, to listen to him complain, to get him to the studio, and to get him through an interview without turning people against their school and their cause altogether. If it was up to Charles, Erik wouldn't be allowed on camera at all.
Unfortunately, the story of the start of the mutant rights movement, their school, their sixty year tragic affair, their heroic deeds in the name of protecting mutants and humanity both...they make very compelling television and bring in ludicrously large donations. Even then, Charles tries to limit Erik's exposure to once or twice a year for his own sanity.
He has, however, figured out an effective lifeboat when stuck on air in a situation about to implode.
He's seconds away from using it now.
"It's nonsense fluff it what it is," Erik is saying to Tom Brokaw. "It's toothless. It doesn't do anything."
Erik is, of course, entirely right. The latest mutant rights legislation that has everyone talking is harmless, more ceremony than substance, but Charles can tell they're on the verge of a lecture that starts with in my day and ends with Erik recounting how he once tried to kill Charles' sister on national television.
"So you don't agree we're in a golden age of socially progressive legislation?" Tom asks, getting back to the point they had begun talking about ten minutes ago, before Erik's lengthy tangent.
Charles sees his opening and snatches at it, deploying his lifeboat, his secret weapon in all of these interviews.
He reaches across the small space between their two chairs and takes Erik's hand.
The reaction is immediate. Erik softens visibly. He glances over at Charles, eyes flickering down to their clasped hands, and smiles almost automatically.
"I hesitate to call anything both a 'golden age' and 'progressive' at the same time," Erik says. "Progressive should mean moving forward, striving to do better, surpassing past limitations. If done right, it can't be a golden age because it keeps moving forwards consistently."
"Don't get into semantics, dear," Charles murmurs, and Erik shifts his grip to squeeze Charles' hand. Already Charles knows it's working, because normally Erik can stretch that rant out into fifteen minutes easily.
"I think," he continues, "that I am married to a man that I have loved for sixty years, and that's something I never dreamed possible in the early years of our courtship. That's socially progressive legislation that I can be grateful for. That's more than scraps."
He looks over at Charles again and Charles smiles at him. Partially because yes, his plan has worked--he can already tell that Tom is about to reframe the discussion to ask about their history, their relationship, and how it ties into the greater mutant story, and that is territory that Erik is just sentimental enough to walk through with a smile and a fondness and a softness that makes him more likeable and less likely to alienate the people watching at home. Charles' secret weapon--make Erik talk about him and suddenly he becomes less of a hostile geriatric and more of the affable, affectionate grandfather of the mutant cause.
Partially, though, he smiles because it really is quite something. He loved Erik and then he hated him and then he hated himself for not hating him the way he should. They've been through hell--once nearly literally--but up until about a decade ago, the very idea of being able to legally marry seemed insane.
And here they are. He has a ring on his finger that Erik is currently spinning gently with his powers, underneath their clasped hands.
Erik hates the press and Charles hates wrangling him for the press, but he can't pretend there aren't benefits. In 1962, their romance was conducted behind closed doors. In 2015, they're holding hands on national television. Perhaps it's not entirely out of line to get sentimental and dramatic about that every once in a while.
*
ficlet february!
Get some sleep
Five minutes away
Faint recognition
Half an hour before sunrise
Useless, but beautiful
Something’s broken
Surprise celebration
There were signs and signals
Rituals
Write about a postcard
What are you looking for?
You remind me of someone
A meeting, a beginning
Lasting impression
Long drive
Behind closed doors
Ask questions later
Six impossible things
Day off
Lost in a city
A door key
A late night phone call
Someone else’s mortification
Something from music
Something from a picture
This is for "something from a picture," and I think when I wrote that prompt, I was imagining the way I used to use pictures for It's Productivity, a writing comm I used to run on LJ, but instead I ended up scrolling through my "prompt" tag on tumblr, narrowing it down to three things I had in my head, and asking pearl_o which I should write.
Here is the picture! And here is a bunch of words about Charles' struggle to keep Erik likable when they do press together. The ending is pretty weak, but whatever.
***
Ficlet February 24: "something from a picture"
Erik hates press.
There's a part of Charles that finds this hilarious. He remembers, of course, being pinned under metal scaffolding on the lawn of the White House while Erik committed a dramatic and over the top display of treason for several dozen video cameras that he made sure to position in such a way that it made him look properly menacing. He remembers, too, the other displays of mutant superiority, always showy, always over the top. A demonstration to show the humans how powerful they were, when really, he could do more for the larger mutant cause by acting covertly.
Erik liked the dramatic, though. Charles always chalked it up to his ego, which was large enough to rival Charles' own, or maybe a lack of sense of scale. His acts of violence and political statements were dramatic. His declarations of love were dramatic. His reaction to perceived wrongs against him was dramatic.
Charles blames the teenagers for draining the drama from him. One can only work with teens and their intense feelings, friendships, loves, rivalries, and reactions for so long before it becomes very clear what's an overreaction and what isn't.
Erik mellowed. The drama dissipated, for the most part, overtaken by Erik's slow slide into long-suffering teacher. He looks condescendingly down on the end-of-the-world heartache of their students, and Charles has to bite his tongue to keep from reminding Erik that he once told Charles that their separation was killing him sure as any bullet and that he'd never be whole again until they were together.
The irony, though, is that Erik hates the press, now.
He hates interviews. He hates cable news. He hates bloggers. He hates even the most respected and distinguished of publications. They all, he says, live to make a spectacle of the lives of those doing good work.
Charles only rarely reminds Erik that a cape and a shiny helmet are something of a spectacle as well.
Press is a must, though. He'd a public figure and so is Erik, now. The school is occasionally in the spotlight and the foundation is frequently in the spotlight and while they have younger, fresher, attractive staff members to do quick pick-up interviews and supply quotes for questioning reporters, there are certain things that call for the weight of sixty years of mutant rights activism and tutelage. That means Charles and sometimes it means Erik, too.
Erik is never pleased by those requests.
Charles isn't quite pleased by them, either. Erik on camera means Charles minding Erik on camera, Charles apologizing for Erik on and off camera, Charles snapping at Erik to be mature for one bloody minute, and only barely keeping himself from shouting, "All this from a man who once monologued for two hours in front of ten news crews he held hostage?" (The one exception to this is Stephen Colbert, whose satirical alter ego Erik finds delightful. It's the one appearance Charles never has to bribe him into.) It's a pain is what it is, a pain to get Erik to agree, to listen to him complain, to get him to the studio, and to get him through an interview without turning people against their school and their cause altogether. If it was up to Charles, Erik wouldn't be allowed on camera at all.
Unfortunately, the story of the start of the mutant rights movement, their school, their sixty year tragic affair, their heroic deeds in the name of protecting mutants and humanity both...they make very compelling television and bring in ludicrously large donations. Even then, Charles tries to limit Erik's exposure to once or twice a year for his own sanity.
He has, however, figured out an effective lifeboat when stuck on air in a situation about to implode.
He's seconds away from using it now.
"It's nonsense fluff it what it is," Erik is saying to Tom Brokaw. "It's toothless. It doesn't do anything."
Erik is, of course, entirely right. The latest mutant rights legislation that has everyone talking is harmless, more ceremony than substance, but Charles can tell they're on the verge of a lecture that starts with in my day and ends with Erik recounting how he once tried to kill Charles' sister on national television.
"So you don't agree we're in a golden age of socially progressive legislation?" Tom asks, getting back to the point they had begun talking about ten minutes ago, before Erik's lengthy tangent.
Charles sees his opening and snatches at it, deploying his lifeboat, his secret weapon in all of these interviews.
He reaches across the small space between their two chairs and takes Erik's hand.
The reaction is immediate. Erik softens visibly. He glances over at Charles, eyes flickering down to their clasped hands, and smiles almost automatically.
"I hesitate to call anything both a 'golden age' and 'progressive' at the same time," Erik says. "Progressive should mean moving forward, striving to do better, surpassing past limitations. If done right, it can't be a golden age because it keeps moving forwards consistently."
"Don't get into semantics, dear," Charles murmurs, and Erik shifts his grip to squeeze Charles' hand. Already Charles knows it's working, because normally Erik can stretch that rant out into fifteen minutes easily.
"I think," he continues, "that I am married to a man that I have loved for sixty years, and that's something I never dreamed possible in the early years of our courtship. That's socially progressive legislation that I can be grateful for. That's more than scraps."
He looks over at Charles again and Charles smiles at him. Partially because yes, his plan has worked--he can already tell that Tom is about to reframe the discussion to ask about their history, their relationship, and how it ties into the greater mutant story, and that is territory that Erik is just sentimental enough to walk through with a smile and a fondness and a softness that makes him more likeable and less likely to alienate the people watching at home. Charles' secret weapon--make Erik talk about him and suddenly he becomes less of a hostile geriatric and more of the affable, affectionate grandfather of the mutant cause.
Partially, though, he smiles because it really is quite something. He loved Erik and then he hated him and then he hated himself for not hating him the way he should. They've been through hell--once nearly literally--but up until about a decade ago, the very idea of being able to legally marry seemed insane.
And here they are. He has a ring on his finger that Erik is currently spinning gently with his powers, underneath their clasped hands.
Erik hates the press and Charles hates wrangling him for the press, but he can't pretend there aren't benefits. In 1962, their romance was conducted behind closed doors. In 2015, they're holding hands on national television. Perhaps it's not entirely out of line to get sentimental and dramatic about that every once in a while.
*
ficlet february!
Get some sleep
Five minutes away
Faint recognition
Half an hour before sunrise
Useless, but beautiful
Something’s broken
Surprise celebration
There were signs and signals
Rituals
Write about a postcard
What are you looking for?
You remind me of someone
A meeting, a beginning
Lasting impression
Long drive
Behind closed doors
Ask questions later
Six impossible things
Day off
Lost in a city
A door key
A late night phone call
Someone else’s mortification
Something from music
Something from a picture