God among insects

only doing what needs to be done | john&erik

John had known that there was something different about the man he called Master. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he must have known. He must have been able to see and been aware of the changes between how the older male acted now and how he acted before… but being able to see it and being able to understand it or act upon it were two very different things where John Allerdyce was considered, especially in regards to his master.

A mutant had been killed by the hand of his master, a mutant girl had been ripped apart until her blood stained the ground and he had simply stood there and watched… and it was not such a new sight. Not really. He had watched Magneto kill hundreds, if not more, of people over the years. He had stood by and watched, he had helped (for flames were so good at getting rid of the bodies)…

But they had been humans. They had been the creatures that he had always been taught were the monsters beneath his bed, those with the grasping claws that wanted to grab him and drag him into the dark… the creatures that wanted to bring nothing but harm to him and those like him.

That girl had been a mutant. And John didn’t know how to deal with that. Mutants should not kill mutants… was that not something that Magneto had always wanted?

Still, he’d been unable to think on it; unable to consider such things in a negative way without making his mind flinch away from the very idea. Until Illyana had spouted the words which had brought those little things that he may have noticed to the fore, he had been for the most part unaware. And after… after they had just been little comments that he hadn’t wanted to be aware of.

He hadn’t wanted to believe the little hints and the words from Illyana that described the state his Master had fallen into. Why would he want those words to be true? Magneto was not to be questioned, not by him, that was something he had learnt so very long before… and if they had been true, then what?

John knew he was not Illyana. He’d not been able to gather the want to leave Magneto before when most others had left his side… to consider the idea of leaving now hurt. Perhaps through experience, perhaps through fear (for that girl had been trying to leave, hadn’t she?)… or perhaps through the training and conditioning that any good little dog was put through as it grew older.

But now, faced with those cold grey eyes and the anger that was practically simmering beneath them… John swallowed, and ducked his head, unable to meet the grey eyes of his master but not backing away, not flinching away.

Stand straight, stand tall, but head down. Submissive, but not stupid. Not useless, not worthless, not pathetic.

Flinching away would have made it impossible to talk, and Sir wanted answers. Sir had… sir was angry.

He hadn’t meant to make him angry. He never meant to make Magneto angry. John was a good person, a loyal person… towards the man who had taken him in, who had raised him and cared for him and trained him and gained such a strong sense of loyalty… he should have known how not to make him angry. It had never been a good thing when his master was angry… but especially not now. He’d just been… been trying to make someone else not angry with him anymore.

“It’s Christmas,” he said eventually, continuing to duck his head, but casting a fleeting glance towards the bag which had been ripped from his grasp, and licked his lips nervously, “I was just taking someone a present.”

Was that enough to explain away the anger that was burning from the other’s voice? He didn’t know. He didn’t think so… but his hand crept to the pocket of his jeans and thumbed the metal lighter within it without his conscious control; a nervous twitch more than anything else.

After a moment, John looked up, and hazel met grey. Wide, scared hazel, met the grey ringed with red that nearly stole his voice and made him want to curl back against the door behind him.

That red was wrong. That red had been there before and it was wrong. It did not belong in his Master.

Did it?

“I was going to take it and then come back. I’m not leaving. I was just… I was just… I’m going to come back.”

#f2f:john #f2f:only doing what needs to be done #it got so long and i trimmed it #there should be build up and i just went overboard so here is a shorted but still really long and bleeerrrggggg reply #you know i love you AND IM SO SORRY #lets pretend the gif isnt sideways #also still so sorry this took so long ugh

Yes he'd killed that girl. And yes she was a mutant but not all mutants we're equal. Not all lives are equal, in this Magneto firmly believed. The girls whose blood now immortalized her existence on the cement had been mutant, yes, but she was not a mutant fit for Magneto's futures.

Few were at this point.

Was John?

"You. Were. Leaving." Magneto clarified for himself, and John. "You were doing exactly as I've told you not to do." He said with such fierceness that striking John would have likely been less offensive. "You were leaving; the intend behind it all doesn't matter."

Those wide, frightened eyes looked at him like he were some monster, some horrid beast. So many looked and thought of him as such and to many he was - he was a monster. Especially to the Homo Sapiens. But to many others, to many of his own, he was a savior and a guide into a new world, a new world order. For every 10 that spoke of his horrors, there was one who sang his praises, there was one who saw the good in what he did. What he did for mutant kind.

John was one of those who followed - though blindly - after him and to see those eyes that once looked to him with utter admiration shift into terror.. to see that look, god that look. He knew that look. He'd bore that look many times before, around John's own age he'd bore that look. And for reasons.. no, no, the reasons weren't the same. None of this was the same.

The ringing was growing louder. As his thoughts drifted, it railed against him and it was certainly loud enough that if words had been spoken to him, they would have been lost in the noise. He nearly winced against it, succeeding in refraining though his brows did knit ever so for a moment.

"Do you think I'm stupid boy?" He suddenly spat with a step back, fingers tightening into his palm. The joints ached at the force in which he did this with, bringing his thoughts to the aching which once plagued his body, his original body, not too long ago. Illyana gifted him with new life when she dragged him down to Limbo, and after that.., ever since that moment, he'd faced trails. Trails he'd faced several times before but consequences followed that were unknown to him.

Magneto was falling, it seemed.

In this new body, did he not exude respect and fear? No, he surely did. He had once before, his entire life. Magneto was always feared. Magneto was always respected.

But fear, is that what he wanted? If so, then why was he so jarred by this look of fear in John's features as he coward from him? No, it wasn't fear Magneto craved. It was control. Yes, that was it. Fear he did not mind of course, but that isn't what he needed. It was control and to see this slip in John, this visible change in how the boy viewed him, proven with this act of defiance and insolence, it left his skin hot.

For the briefest of moments, there could have been an epiphany within the man, as he looked down onto this boy who visibly coward beneath his superior, beneath his 'Sir'. But the connection was lost by the ringing and by the maddening thoughts that screamed to contain this musty-blonde child. As his mind had wandered into a strange maze, a labyrinth of discorded thoughts that were unhinging but all loosely connected with the simple web of thoughts, circling around the lure of securing this one, last piece of his Brotherhood, his eyes wandered. They continued to strain and redden and as Magneto came to a separate realization - that he needed to control John, not fix this situation, himself of his behavior, his heavily contrasted eyes set on the boy again.

"You were going to see Illyana." The accusation was simple enough, who else would John attempt to run off and see? Magneto had seen how he looked to her, with such admiration, such pathetic doe-eyes. He was smitten with her and he'd loathed it. He'd despised their growing comfort with one another but he knew better than to restrain it; Illyana was a force to be reckoned with. A force Magneto, in any state, knew better than to temp.

But Illyana was gone now, she had betrayed him. Mocked him and started a trend, it seemed, with her leaving. And now John moved to break the rules that were in place to prevent this exact thing. "You were going to chase after a woman who abandoned us all -- abandoned our cause, John." He began. "Scurry after her with a gift.. for what?" Magneto eliminated any space that was between then and stood over the blonde, red-rimmed eyes peering down at him. Both hands found John's shoulders and they held him. Firmly. "You've broken my trust, Boy." He said grimly after a moment, his hands growing tighter in their grip. "You've annihilated it." And after a moments pause, he spoke again.

"What is to be done about that?"

aromanticmagneto

Erik Lehnsherr + symptoms of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder

#face #photo #ha #hahah #hahahaha if only these were his only issues

friend-of-ferret

They are the marriedest.

#face #photo #what losers

only doing what needs to be done | john&erik

It was a stupid idea; a really stupid idea… a stupid idea that had started as a passing fancy that he’d just not been able to shake. An idea which had built upon other ideas until he had ended up… here. Sat on the floor in his room, turning a badly wrapped present over and over in nervous hands scarred by entirely too many burns, and attempting to muster up the courage to actually get up and do with it what he wanted to do with it.

John wasn’t exactly an expert when it came to things based around this tradition (he had never really celebrated, nor paid attention to any of it beyond the setting of the pudding on fire, which he’d seen on tv a couple of times), but even he had grasped the idea that Christmas was for presents, and presents were to be wrapped and then delivered… and it was that last stage that he was struggling with now.

Delivering the present meant leaving the base. Delivering the present meant leaving the base and heading back to that school that he really did not want to go anywhere near at all.

Not for the first time, John found himself angrily venting at the absent Illyana. Of course when she’d left, she’d had to go there.

It was another issue entirely trying to understand why he had the present for her in the first place, and one that he did not even know where to begin to translate… but he had seen the cuddly toy with the package of sweets and it had just clicked – the beginning of the fancy that he was now seriously regretting. Surely it wouldn’t be too late to just… throw it out. To forget about this foolishness…

She probably wouldn’t want anything from him anyway, especially when he did not have a clue about anything along the lines of gift giving.

No. To hell with it. John stood and shoved the package into a bag, a bag which he quickly slung over one shoulder before heading out of his room with quick steps towards the exit of the base, driven fully by the little voice in the back of his mind that whispered: “It’s worth the risk, right?”

It was only when he got to the main doors, only to have the giant metal constructs suddenly slam closed in his face, that the answer to that question became a harsh negative in his mind. Only in that moment… and when he turned, and wide hazel, guilt stricken eyes met the cold grey of the one he’d been trying to avoid.

"…S-sir?"

#f2f:only doing what needs to be done #f2f:john

He had killed one of his own, one of the children he'd taken in and swore to protect and house (and train, of course). A few weeks ago, for all others to see, he ripped that stupid girl open and spilled her blood - blood that now stained the cement pathway before their base. It wasn't the first time, it wouldn't be the last. No, it certainly wouldn't be the last.

Erik was gone. Just as Max has faded and dwindled behind the new life and name of Erik, Erik too was fading. Erik held sense, purpose, and an ounce of sanity. This man did not. This man was a monster, moving in and out of states, ripping buildings from their foundations and people from them.

Humans.

There was a time he put effort and thought in how he did it -- the killing. Now even that was preformed as an afterthought with nothing more than a bland expression and reddening eyes. The countless lives he was taking by the day - the blood of it all was drowning him away.

Max was ruined by the hands of crazed men and their camps and genocide. Erik was ruined by a crazed man with his dreams of camps and self-made genocide.

Magneto was thriving in his self-made chaos. If you could call delusional paranoia thriving, that is.

Illyana was gone. She left after spewing her slander and after her, Emma too fled. Others had grown wise and followed suite but some stayed. Some always stayed. But he was unphased by it all, or so he told himself. His numbers were growing weak at their base but his connections, his ties and influence around the nation was strong - it always was. There were always those who found Magneto's radical screams for Mutant Rights to be reasonable. One of those proved to be John, time and time again. Where his trust and stability once lied with Illyana, it now found refuge within John.

Illyana had abandoned him. This boy would not. It wasn't so much that John held the power, the sheer capability that Illyana possessed. No, it was simply because he was all that was left. The last shred of assured control. John wouldn't leave. John couldn't leave.

But then he was walking to the door -- Erik, no, Magneto, watched him do this. He stood from the end of a hallway and watched as John scurried to the front of their base, ignorant to the crazed eyes that bore against his back. Ignorant to the enraged breathing and trembling hands of a man he so blindly considered his master.

John couldn't leave.

With a breath, Magneto made sure that that was his reality and the cold steel doors clamped together before the young man. He turned and Magneto advanced with quick steps. Before reaching the boy Magneto's hand clenched and with that motion the bag that was draped across his shoulder flung across the room; far from either of them. For a fraction of a section Magneto let his fingers feel the ache and pull of whatever small pieced of metal lay inside the fabric sling, trying to identify what it was -- maybe a bell?-- but his attention shot to John again to trembled the name, no the title, he addressed the man with.

"Boy." His response was swift, cruel, and impersonal, aimed to rival the impersonality of John's stutter. Those grey eyes the boy had found staring at him across the room still bore a wild look and grew red around the irises and by God the ringing.. the world shook with the intensity of it all. It deafened him each time it found him and he grew mad trying to figure how others could not hear it. How could they not feel it? Did it not strike John as it stuck him, binding and pulling at his insides and raking against the base of his skull.

Surely he would grow mad if it did not cease. As if he had yet to go mad.

"Where.." He breathed, enraged. His eyes were wide and locked to John's. "Where." Magneto repeated with a tremor of rage in his voice. That would be all he would ask. It was John's responsibility to elaborate and explain himself. Magneto held no obligation to say much more to this boy.

This stupid boy. He couldn't leave.

showmethehotpods-deactivated201

Let your anger grow,

let it fester,

let it burn.

Anger is your sword, but also your shield. It is the mask you wear, the smirk painted on your face, the blood raging in your veins.

||Anger will make you STRONG||

#musings

beckerrarebooks

#mercury posioning #luv you ella

joelyttle3

#face #photo #in light of events.. this feels appropriate

face saving promises whispered like prayers || Laura, Emma, John, Magneto, Yana, Etc

Laura was entirely lost. She was not particularly happy here, at the Brotherhood, though her happiness had not yet truly been a factor anywhere she’d been. But she had yet to receive any help where the trigger scent was concerned, and even if she had, the mission she’d been given for the coming week … Laura did not want to massacre anyone. Even for help with her conditioning. She had known she might be asked to kill, but this assignment felt more like one from her days in the Facility. Like she was being used as a mindless weapon. And she supposed, really, she could not blame Magneto for that. She was a weapon. And a skilled one. He would be foolish not to use her. But she did not want to be used. And she did not want to be a weapon anymore, or to kill so many people who may not deserve it, all at once. Except those were her orders.

So she was left with two choices; do what she was told, or leave. And she did not want to carry out the orders. Except she didn’t think she would be permitted to leave. So she waited until night, hoping, perhaps, that those who would be most likely to catch her leaving would be asleep. So it was perhaps two am when she rose silently from her bed. She took nothing with her- she didn’t have much in the first place, and anything she lost, she could easily replace with the money in her bank account. It took a few minutes to travel the halls of the Brotherhood complex, and as she did so, she wondered where she would even go. Laura still did not know if she was permitted at Armour, considering when she was last there, she had been locked up for the safety of the other students. It wasn’t like she was any less dangerous. They would probably see her as more dangerous, considering where she’d been.

And even if she was permitted at the school, Laura knew she would likely be just as alone there as she was here, save for perhaps Remy. Though, she thought, he probably still had Lorna. Either way, everyone else with whom she had spoken often at Armour was upset with her, and understandably so. Logan in particular. She did not know if they would forgive her. But it did not really matter, as long as she was permitted at Armour. Laura had been alone most of her life, so this was no difference. Finally, she made it outside of the compound, and, keeping silent as ever, she began to creep towards the edge of the property, careful to remain in the shadows in case anyone was watching.

rpsbitch

Emma always struggled to sleep, relaxing means letting her guards down and she could hear people’s dreams when she did so. Mostly in a place like the Brotherhood they were disturbing and meager, the occasional wet dream and the occasions where the two are mixed. She knew better than to pry in people’s minds without permission but when she was trying to truly relax it was hard, unless she shifted to diamond form but that wasn’t ever as comfortable as her usual form. So, she was outside having a smoke. Something she rarely did for the fact that it was something she did with Shaw. How different was this really? It wasn’t. She was still being controlled, she could see now that the people she chose to surround herself with weren’t really different, in fact they were almost the exact same people. Only these people had the facade of a cause to label their killing and their power hunger with.

Recent conversations with Lorna had made her very aware that she was now an accessory to that should anything go wrong with Lorna’s situation. She didn’t want to know really, she could at least feign loyalty to someone besides herself if she kept everyone at arms length but the girl had wormed her way in. There was also the persistent thought that she should prove herself. She did as she was told, of course. Played her role. Then again she didn’t ever really strive to impress Magneto, her supposed boss. Naturally when she noticed an anxious consciousness in her mind she latched onto it. Laura was running.

She froze the girl, forced her mind to halt her muscles and brought the girl out of the shadows where she’d been lurking. “The trouble is, darling. You can’t hide from me.” She said aloud to Laura as she stood there at Emma’s control. Catching her escape and returning her to Erik would certainly earn her points from him, so Emma did just that.

Laura Kinney has been found attempting to run. Notify Magneto.

Emma sent out telepathically to everyone in range, as they were still close to the living quarters she imagined at least Illyana, John and the others would hear her even if Erik was still paranoid enough to stay away from her telepathy. Then her attention was back to Laura, she pushed her way into the girl’s mind once more. She’d been there before, been the one to give the girl nightmares and she couldn’t regret that. It would be hypocritical to fault Laura for wanting to leave, for Emma herself wasn’t as comfortable as she used to be with the idea of being the villain as she’d once been. After all Emma’s life had always been well intentioned, but the situation never saw it fit for her to be a good person it seemed. So she didn’t immediately do anything to Laura, she opted instead to use her words as her weapons.

"Silly girl, you thought you could just run? You act as if what you do doesn’t have consequence, but I can assure you these consequences will chase you for your whole life." Emma said, and as she did she found she sounded almost bored. She wasn’t of course, the exertion of stretching her powers to this extent was exhilarating and exhausting all at once.

John had been playing with his fire when the message came. Not that such a thing was unusual; more often than not one could find John in one room or other letting his flames out to play (and occasionally having rather intricate conversations with them too). What was unusual was the fact that the message was enough to pull his attention from them. A startled blink and a jerk of his head towards the door as the words roared through his mind caused the puppy made of flame that had been running around the room to fade, and that was a rather hard thing to do.

John wasn’t exactly what you could call easily distracted when it came to taking him away from his flames… but this had managed it. Maybe because it was a voice inside his head, which was unsettling for the fire mutant who usually had too many within there already… or maybe because it was the actual content of the message.

Laura Kinney has been found attempting to run. Notify Magneto.

He felt like he should have been protesting at the fact that someone had been inside his head, potentially poking around in there (and he knew just who too; as distracted as he tended to be, voices were easy to recognize even if names were easy to forget)… but he wasn’t. The message within the words was more important to the Pyro at this moment in time.

He didn’t know much about Laura, not really, and the name did not match a face, but that was not important. Someone had been trying to run.

People should not run. Leaving was bad. Leaving was a very bad thing indeed.

John never liked it when people left. And as it wasn’t Yana, he could say that without feeling… strange.

So like the loyal creature he was, John did not need to be told twice. He was up within a second, on his feet with the fire fading in his wake (perhaps burning down and taking a table with it before his mind pushed it out completely, but it was still gone) and his lighter clenched tightly within his grasp, moving through the base with hurried steps that might as well have been called the act of running.

Notify Magneto.

He could do that. Out of loyalty, or perhaps out of the desire to be the one to tell him… maybe a combination of both. Either way, he came to a halt outside Erik’s quarters, rapped on the door smartly (because he would never be rude with Magneto), and then for the first time in potentially forever, he pushed it open without waiting for admittance.

Eagerness and the desire to do good by his Master could quite easily be explanations for that.

"Laura Kinney has been found attempting to run, sir," he blurted, slightly out of breath, eyes bright and shining with the eagerness clear on his face; the sense of doing a job right and well flooding through his form (and taking over any worry about the event itself), "Emma has her. What are your orders, sir?"

He was doing good here, wasn’t he? Telling him as he had to. A loyal little puppy, caring for little but the whims of his Master. Running was a bad thing… but having caught her would not be bad, would not make for an upset Sir.

Wouldn’t it?

#para:brotherhood #para:john #para:illyana #para:emma #para:laura

Erik's quarters were his safe hold from the ruckus that played out at all hours on the grounds. It was his salvation and space to detox from the interactions from those that looked to him with endless expectations and eyes willed with curious wonder. Inquiries, confessions, interactions as a whole - they ceased at his door. Erik was but a man, a man on the brink.. of something. Greatness, he thought. Madness in truth though, as others were realizing - as if he hadn't been wandering down this path for a great while now. But once again, Erik was but a man, and he could only shoulder and forcibly care and tolerate so much. When his door shut, he shut them out. He received no one. Not even Illyana as of late.

Telepaths, understandably, were not a favorite of Erik's and he'd worked diligently to be resistant to their invasions. His ever growing paranoia - brought on by the overpowering insanity his powers were poisoning him with - was justified on a basic level but growing excessive. Needless to say, Emma's message did not reach him so John's intrusion was a blessing although he did little to present it at such.

At the the unwelcomed entrance, Erik lifted from his position on the bed and his eyes blurred against the lights as his pupils tried to fix on the males figure that now stood at the front of his room. It had been days since the man had granted himself rest and to have John permit himself entrance to his room.. God, the buzzing, numbing noise that filled the cavities of his mind rather frequently, they screamed now in a blistered furry, egging him to act out but he remained still, painfully rigid, as not to tempt himself to do anything rash.

"John?" He bore hard against him. Against the screams that demanded John grovel from his misdeed, the man forcibly reminded himself of the boys use. It was no benefit to him to spill the child's blood, not for something like this. That still didn't diminish the yearning he had to force John to bleed his apology. But as John babbled his intel, Erik was grateful he had brought no harm to the blonde.

"What?" He inhaled sharply, pulling himself from the cushioned folds of his mattress. If John offered to repeat himself following Erik's question, it was lost. The buzzing evolved rapidly into a vociferous blaring that cancelled out any noise around him. A metallic tinge platted itself on his pallet and all the metal, all the countless and vast pieces of metal that decorated the area, stung and reached for him, and he it. But he did not call it. Erik felt it though and embraced the metal and his own needs to enact justice. His fingers ached for the pull of steel and the sound of wails that would follow his verdict but he waited.

He would bring a vicious punishment upon Laura and already he could feel her, even from the inside of the walls that separated them.

He was quick in his steps, taking no time to change from his sleeping pants and the loose shirt that dressed his torso. From the room and past John to a hallway, then another and finally a door that led to the front lot, Erik finally presented himself with a flushed rage and sweat beaded brow. The cold air stung his skin and the metallic taste became overwhelming in his mouth. He could feel Laura perfectly now.

"Emma," Erik simply offered her name in the form of a greeting, and a possible thanks as he approached her side before looking to Laura who was constrained by the telepath. His eyes burned on her and the buzzing grew more relentless in his mind, polluting it further with violent lust, as if he needed more of a drive.

"You're not terribly bright are you?" He berated the girl before scoffing, as if amused. But he was not. He was anything but. "Let her go, Emma." He ordered, his wrist flicking towards her as did his eyes, though only for a moment. They were quick to find Laura again and when they did, his teeth sealed together, threatening to crush against each other.

The buzzing was deafening now, pounding and blinding his senses. His eyes throbbed and the metallic taste turned copper and threatened to gag him. The noises were screaming for justice, for retribution. Laura dared shame him, disgrace him. She dared mock him and try and flee? She was a girl, a stupid girl and she'd proven herself as such. Stupidity was not valued in Erik's Brotherhood. Stupidity was not valued in Eriks new world.

Laura was not valued in Erik's mutant Utopia.

With no other words offered to any in the small but growing crowd Erik lifted his hand. With Emma's release of Laura, he took his own hold; a painful hold, gripping the woman from the inside. He took special care to disrupt the adamantium and shift it through her, but only mildly. Just enough so she realized exactly what she's secured for herself. He pulled it, his fingers reflecting his actions, stretching the metal out to press against the tissue and meat that coated her bones and then contacted it tightly, relentlessly, threatening to crush her from the inside. And his arm rose, lifting her higher into the air, so all could watch.

Laura was an example now, nothing else.

Point of No Return [F2F] || Laura and Erik

She did not have to wait long. Almost as soon as she knocked, she was instructed to enter the room, so she did so, closing the door behind her because she assumed that was what he desired. He was not looking at her when she entered, his chair facing the other way, where he appeared to be intently looking at something. Laura supposed that some might be offended by that, but considering how superiors had treated her most of her life, this was hardly a problem.

So she stood still, just within the door, until he spoke her name, and instructed her to sit, still looking away. She glanced around the room, and spotted a chair at the foot of the bed, and so was already making her way there by the time he had spun around and motioned to the chair. Laura sat. Then she glanced up at him. She did not know what he wanted. Nor, she found, could she read him in hopes of deciphering just that. Of course, as usual, she scanned the room to determine possible ways of killing him- she didn’t want to kill him, but programming was programming, as proven by the trigger scent. Most of the methods her mind came up with, of course, did not automatically account for his mutation, which, given what it was, and what she was, would create a real challenge in the event that she need to fight him. That was not something she needed to do now, however. Rather she sat and waited, saying nothing. He would say what he wanted to say, and she saw no reason to speak unless he required her to.

#f2f:laura #f2f:point of no return #f2f

Although he didn't physically acknowledge Laura, he was more than aware of her as she made way through the room. It would have been hard not to feel her presence; the andamantium that platted her bones reached out to him in such a pleasing manner, after all. Without looking, Erik was perfectly capable of telling exactly her stance and how she positioned herself - which was quite refined. As cruel as a life she'd experienced up to recently, if she had anything to be thankful for, it was her refined posture. Presentation was important and if Laura didn't possess such a timid nature about her, afraid of both herself and the intentions of others, she could be quite the powerful woman. It was a blessing to Erik that she wasn't though -- not entirely at least.

"You're a woman of few words," Erik started, addressing the silence that she offered him as she sat. Once turned he leaned into his chair with a leg that moved to cross over the other. "I'll assume you'd like me to be the same, hm?" There'd been little time to spend with her so the man knew little on how to proceed with her. She was a monster, sculpted and forced into what she was. People like that -- people like them, they preferred things the way they preferred it, with a sense of some control over whatever situation they were in. Erik was aware of this and so he'd grant her this freedom, this illusion of respecting her wishes. And so he continued, letting nothing less than a second pass before speaking again.

"I want you to go to Florida, Laura." He said. "Not alone, of course. Anna will go with you and you'll be under her supervision but this is, well - think of it as a training exercise." He was careful with his words. There was nothing too forceful said but his deliverance was clear. He was firm, as he always was, and there wasn't a real option here, he expected her to do as he said. "The Reavers have a headquarters I want wiped clean."

aromanticmagneto

hot dad magneto: a tribute

#face #photo #omg hot dad magneto

Point of No Return [F2F] || Laura and Erik

The summons had been somewhat unexpected, as until now, most of her time had been spent training, meeting up with Remy, having painful conversations with Emma, and, most notably, receiving no help in removing her conditioning to the trigger scent. It was enough that she wasn’t sure she should stay, but Laura didn’t know where she would go if she left. Surely the school wouldn’t welcome her back. But first things were first, and perhaps the reason for her summoning was that Magneto wanted to help with the trigger scent now. Either way, she found herself standing uncertainly outside of his study, and knocked quietly on the door.

#f2f:no return #f2f:laura

There had been promises to help Laura -- many, in fact. Originally Erik intended to do as he claimed, to the best of his ability. But her situation was complex, to say the least and his focus had faltered. Days passed, and those days morphed into weeks and still Erik had spent little time with the young woman. He was spending little time with anyone nowadays, only making time when he had select members of his Brotherhood accompany him on his trips of "political and mutant enlightenment", which really was a mask, an anterior to saying "human slaughter".

The knock was expected and was responded to quickly with a listless "Enter", from the man who was seated at his desk. Papers and photographs and files, all stolen from SHIELD with intentions of using them to help further push his agenda, decorated both his desk and the bed that was beautifully kept which left one to wonder if he every truly slept in it.

Erik didn't have the time to do as he swore to, not at the moment. That would change though. Eventually. For now he'd occupy Laura in other ways; she'd prove her worth if nothing else. That certainly shouldn't be difficult for a clone of Wolverine. "Laura." He said, not so much as a question as to the identity of that who had come to him, but more to confirm he had expected her and was receiving her. "Sit." He was brief, but not cold, his back still turned to her. After a moment of further scanning over a map, littered with red circles and scribbled words, he turned, a hand motioning to the the wooden chair that was placed at the foot of his bed.

PM - Lorna & Erik

He said he was worried about me. And yes, I believed him. And I still do… but I don’t think he’s telling the truth. It doesn’t add up. If you’d sent them, you’d have been there and you’d have at least seen John before he got shot. I… I don’t believe him, but I had to make sure.

I’m still working while I’m here. I won’t fall behind. I… he’s just one of them. If there’s one thing I’ve noticed, it’s that they protect their own before anything else, no matter what they might be claiming. So he ran back to them, and reached out to me.

Give everyone here a week to forget about it all. I’ll be back, they won’t stop me.