merry adventures in backdate land

[righteousapollo]

Characters: Enjolras and Steeeeeve
Location: Staff room
Time: gosh who knows. Backdated to when Steve first arrived at the Institute I guess.
Content: The ‘marble lover of liberty’ meets the Marvel lover of liberty. lol wordplay
Format: MIME. Or third.
Warning: Too many blonde-haired, blue-eyed, freedom-lovin' men in one place for any mere mortal

Comments

[no_youmove]

"Someone else might want to read that, you know," was Steve's not-unfriendly observation as he closed the staff room door behind him. He was more curious than disapproving, really: he knew he for one had been wanting to read it - he kind of felt like he'd never stay on top of things otherwise - but finding pieces of them torn out wouldn't really be much more than a minor annoyance and he wasn't one to pitch a fit over that sort of thing.

[righteousapollo]

It didn't quite register immediately with Enjolras that he was being addressed and for a few seconds longer he concentrated on his careful tearing. Only once the article was free did he look up in quiet surprise in the direction of the door.

Enjolras, still holding the torn paper in hands, looked about the cluttered table-top. He'd made a mess, but he'd made a neat mess. He was so used to coming in every day and poring through the piles of old media without (much) opposition that it struck him that this was the first time he'd actually been asked to share

[no_youmove]

"I am. Steve Rogers," he said, holding out his hand; if he thought there was anything at all off about a man who looked as young as Enjolras did occupying the staff room as if he owned it, it sure didn't show. "I'm teaching Civics." He gave the little pile of article clippings - well, tearings - on the table another glance, and raised an eyebrow. "What are you collecting there?"

[righteousapollo]

Enjolras, indifferent to the streaks of newspaper print on his fingers, reached out and shook Steve's hand firmly. "Olivier Enjolras, but rather more Enjolras than Olivier if you don't mind." The trace of a smile momentarily found its way onto his serious face as he removed his hand and picked up his neat pile of tearings, waving them briefly in the air with a degree of triumph. "These? Letters that my friends occasionally manage to get printed!"

He added the latest one to the top of the pile before sitting back in his seat and crossing his arms over his chest. "Oh, but you're the civics teacher? Interesting. You have an interest in politics, then?" With that last question Enjolras leaned forward, tapping the lead article on the nearest newspaper that featured the upcoming election.