(no subject)
And now ...
What?
My lord I do pray to thee, as humblest servant and proudest warrior. Guide my steps for I know not the path you would have me walk.
Ellen is perched at the infirmary's computer, drinking from a thermos and reading the screen in a blank, asbstracted way that suggests she is not actually absorbing that much in the way of words. Her hair is bound in a severe tail and the crisp fall of her labcoat obscures the rest of her clothing from immediate view.
Freshly showered and dressed if not shorn and shaven, Erik is up unusually early this morning, and is still fastening the heavy silver weight of his watch when the infirmary door opens to allow him entry of its own accord. Grey-blue eyes assess quickly that Ellen is the only one currently present, and the door swings silently shut after him as he proceeds further on into the room.
Ellen sits back in the office chair before the screen, curling her fingers tightly around the thermos as she frowns, more or less lost in the vague trance of the not-really-a-morning-person nevertheless awake at a time classifiable as early.
"Ellen," comes the inevitable greeting, uttered when Erik is still too far away to have given himself up with the heavy tramp of his boots.
Predictably, Ellen startles. She catches the thermos before it can leap too far out of her hands. She sets it carefully on the desk, her care as to its balance slightly exaggerated. Then she turns in a swivel of the seat, and blinks at him. "Sir," she says. "Good morning."
"Good morning," Erik echoes in return, decidedly awake despite the tell-tale hollows around his eyes when he draws to a stiff halt a few long paces from Ellen's seat. "I have made my decision."
Ellen cants her head slightly to one side and watches him in silence, her hands clasping neatly in her lap as the pale gaze centers on his face.
Where there should be an explanation, there is an awkward pause. It stretches for several seconds before Erik seems to notice it, and lifts his chin to speak. "I am leaving. As soon as I have packed."
For a moment, Ellen gives no sign, as one who has not heard. Then she blinks once, and slowly, rises. Her hands clasp behind her rather than before, and she inclines her head to him. "May it prove right for you, sir."
Magneto nods, jaw knotting on either side when he finally allows himself to glance quickly away, and then back again. "As I told Yuriko, I want you to remain here, but in the event of emergency -- Stvol will know where I am."
Ellen only nods, her gaze never leaving his face. After a moment she moistens her lips, swallows, and says, "I will remember."
"Alright." Again, there is a pause, but this time there is nothing significant to say after it, and Erik nods again before taking a slow step back in the direction of the door.
"My prayers go with you, sir." It is almost too soft to hear, and she looks away after she speaks the words, as one might who regrets speaking. Her fingers curl into the back of her abandoned chair.
"Thank you, Ellen." Comprehension is not entirely necessary to gauge the sentiment, and so Erik turns back for the door somewhat more reassured than he was when he entered through it.
What?
My lord I do pray to thee, as humblest servant and proudest warrior. Guide my steps for I know not the path you would have me walk.
Ellen is perched at the infirmary's computer, drinking from a thermos and reading the screen in a blank, asbstracted way that suggests she is not actually absorbing that much in the way of words. Her hair is bound in a severe tail and the crisp fall of her labcoat obscures the rest of her clothing from immediate view.
Freshly showered and dressed if not shorn and shaven, Erik is up unusually early this morning, and is still fastening the heavy silver weight of his watch when the infirmary door opens to allow him entry of its own accord. Grey-blue eyes assess quickly that Ellen is the only one currently present, and the door swings silently shut after him as he proceeds further on into the room.
Ellen sits back in the office chair before the screen, curling her fingers tightly around the thermos as she frowns, more or less lost in the vague trance of the not-really-a-morning-person nevertheless awake at a time classifiable as early.
"Ellen," comes the inevitable greeting, uttered when Erik is still too far away to have given himself up with the heavy tramp of his boots.
Predictably, Ellen startles. She catches the thermos before it can leap too far out of her hands. She sets it carefully on the desk, her care as to its balance slightly exaggerated. Then she turns in a swivel of the seat, and blinks at him. "Sir," she says. "Good morning."
"Good morning," Erik echoes in return, decidedly awake despite the tell-tale hollows around his eyes when he draws to a stiff halt a few long paces from Ellen's seat. "I have made my decision."
Ellen cants her head slightly to one side and watches him in silence, her hands clasping neatly in her lap as the pale gaze centers on his face.
Where there should be an explanation, there is an awkward pause. It stretches for several seconds before Erik seems to notice it, and lifts his chin to speak. "I am leaving. As soon as I have packed."
For a moment, Ellen gives no sign, as one who has not heard. Then she blinks once, and slowly, rises. Her hands clasp behind her rather than before, and she inclines her head to him. "May it prove right for you, sir."
Magneto nods, jaw knotting on either side when he finally allows himself to glance quickly away, and then back again. "As I told Yuriko, I want you to remain here, but in the event of emergency -- Stvol will know where I am."
Ellen only nods, her gaze never leaving his face. After a moment she moistens her lips, swallows, and says, "I will remember."
"Alright." Again, there is a pause, but this time there is nothing significant to say after it, and Erik nods again before taking a slow step back in the direction of the door.
"My prayers go with you, sir." It is almost too soft to hear, and she looks away after she speaks the words, as one might who regrets speaking. Her fingers curl into the back of her abandoned chair.
"Thank you, Ellen." Comprehension is not entirely necessary to gauge the sentiment, and so Erik turns back for the door somewhat more reassured than he was when he entered through it.