342. please help me
Hurt/Comfort - Hurt/comfort is a fan fiction genre that involves the physical pain or emotional distress of one character, who is cared for by another character. The injury, sickness or other kind of hurt allows an exploration of the characters and their relationship.
- Post with Character Name | Series in the subject.
- Others respond.
- Roll 1-14 at ( Read more... )
- Post with Character Name | Series in the subject.
- Others respond.
- Roll 1-14 at ( Read more... )
[he doesn't know for sure if "Magneto" is staying at the Hellfire Club, but the deep Psi Link he's implanted in Raven he occasionally glances at (unbeknownst to her, unbeknownst to anyone) says Most Likely]
[Charles finds it interesting and distasteful, that he would choose that location to conduct his business, knowing all of its (and Shaw's) implications. still, he meanders his way through patrons by cloaking himself, steering bodies to subconsciously avoid rolling wheels, and seeking out those inner chambers he last recalls La Vie En Rosa filtering from between bookcases Moira peered through]
[within there, he waits, hands folded in his deadened lap, his mind a storm behind crystal clear eyes]
Reply
Reply
[he smiles, as amiably as he can, and it barely touches his mouth]
I do not think you belong here either, Erik.
[the chair is made of metal. the frame, the wires -- the amount of trust here is insurmountable, more than he should have for the very man who put the bullet in and drew the bullet out]
And yet here we both are.
[he pushes no further, treading cautiously by all means of the term]
Reply
instead, erik -- magneto -- stiffens at hearing his name from charles (that is not him, not anymore), but otherwise says nothing to it. he moves towards the couch, waves the tray of bourbon and glasses over to them, and sets two glasses for him and the professor. he had a feeling both of them will need it.
he pours them both drinks, his mouth set into a thin line as he sets the folder on to a side.]
I prefer Magneto.
[and he sits back and levels a stare at charles, his face impassive, in control, now that he's sitting down and he doesn't have to rely on his pride in order to keep him on his toes. he remembers what charles said on that day: you did this.
to have all of his failures on that day stare at him in the present -- no, it is too much.]
I don't suppose you came here for business.
Reply
[he can prefer "Magneto" all he wants; Charles will never call him such. as much as, he supposes, he'll never call himself Professor X. it's funny that the inventions of his sister would be saddled comfortably on Erik's shoulders but never fall easily in Charles's now-dead lap.]
I came here to see you. That is all.
[it's not a lie -- as easily as he'd maneuvered around a sea of faces to find his destination, he'd found along the way an ambient sense of not knowing what exactly he was doing... and that, above all, was new territory as much as what foreign Peruvian Rugs might get crushed under his wheels]
How are you?
[it sounds so painfully mundane]
Reply
that charles says, "i came here to see you" in such innocence bothers him. business, he can handle. anything else more intimate takes a lot out of him, these days. he glances at charles furtively from the edge of his glass as he drinks, and replies,]
I am well. [he smiles at him. it is every bit unfriendly as the humming of power in the room ( ... )
Reply
[he inquires with little gentility; even if it were pleasure more than business (and business it always was, with Charles), that Erik would kick him right back out into the mob is almost hurtful]
[almost]
I traveled quite a ways for this visit. You can imagine the difficulty travelling must be these days.
[it should be, but it isn't bitter. convincing Hank to design a new aircraft for his use took little convincing at all, and to make it handicap accessible only proved a new challenge to the bright young mind]
[still, he watches Erik's reaction closely at such commentary -- searching, perhaps futilely, for any sign of... well, guilt]
At least indulge me in a game of chess.
[be it verbal or literal]
Reply
Reply
[the animosity radiates, much like power that power, but he knows Erik isn't showing off; he's simply seeking release, and for that release Charles did show bare his face today]
That could go both ways, I'm afraid. Come now, one game? I will make my glass of bourbon last that long, if you are feeling particularly stingy.
[it's said with good humor; he doesn't need his significant abilities in influence to attempt to sway a man he knows more than skin deep already]
Reply
at the back of his mind, he's asking himself, is there really any need for casualties today? charles isn't entirely helpless, despite the injury. his abilities are beyond what erik can understand of it, and really ...
it seems cowardly, to retaliate at him without having done anything outright.
so erik makes a decision, one which he half-regrets and doesn't even when he grows old.]
Fine.
[and he stands up and actually brings the set to the table between them. he moves towards the phonograph and changes the music in it while he waits for charles to set up the pieces.
of course, shaw doesn't have much taste for music, as with a lot of things. erik rifles through the record stacks, looking for the least offensive record that he has as he tell charles,]
Black or white, it doesn't matter to me.
[while ( ... )
Reply
Thank you.
[he expects Erik will know which choice is to be his; yes, he's always favoured white, hasn't he? but he shies away from it this time, rolls forward and leans by the upper waist to turn the set this way and that until black is facing his side.]
[tolerable choice indeed. if I cannot be blue with you, Mister King, I shall be black.]
Your move.
[White wins consistently 52-56% more often. First-Move Advantage, consolidated 1951. let Erik force him to the defensive. he will be the alloy-less armor to stand tall.]
[Perfectly played games are draws.]
Reply
he takes a drink from his glass and moves his pawn. e5. when he speaks his voice is soft, and more of the erik that charles knew than the magneto that he preferred to himself.]
Why are you here, Charles?
Reply
[it's an easy reply, as gentle as the voice that had prompted it]
[a mirror move, then. pawn to e4, perfect symmetry across the board. Erik so loved perfection, didn't he?]
For tea and chess.
[and a continuing search for hope.]
Reply
he frowns at charles' move. wonders if he should push the crisis to an overwhelming question .....]
One or the other, and you can't have both.
I'd hate for this to be a regular affair.
[pawn to f4.
it's not the first time that he'd have to escape to the bottle today, and erik drinks his glass to its bitter dregs and refills it. he glances at charles; that chair can't be comfortable. he clears his throat as he waits for him to move, and says,]
Would you like to move to the couch, instead? It'd be .... more comfortable for you.
[it pains him to realize that he's making so many concessions when he's just ( ... )
Reply
[either way, Erik is aiming sharp barbs at his feet and at his heart, only one of which isn't numb with paralysis. the latter never will be.]
[despite it all, he smiles, not entirely mirthless]
I am quite all right, thank you.
[pawn to f4. pawn over pawn. night falling over the dawn. a modern technique to that archaic opening. King's Gambit Accept.]
[challenge accepted, it reads more like in Charles's eyes.]
How is your company?
[ -- without me? how is Raven? did you know Emma Frost is absent from her prison? it is fortunate indeed that Erik himself is not a telepath.]
Reply
Reply
Leave a comment