find us a trap door, find us a plane

[magnetic]

Who: Magneeter and Ponyboy Pyro
What: manly Skyrail date
Where: ...the Skyrail, starting at Griss Fell station
When: about a million years ago at this point, we're slow
Notes: backdated the most
Warnings: possibly teenage cussin' /clutches pearls

Two o'clock on Thursday, he'd said, and as the university's great old tower bells across the river begin the traditional preludial peals, Erik looks in its direction. The pale-faced clock and its iron fixtures just visible between two buildings. His eyes follow the spire up into the belly of a cloud, and he wonders what his friend is doing—whether there's a lesson now, or more grading to be done, or what-else.

He has on a pair of sunglasses, and no hat, and his hands are in the pockets of his jacket. His trousers are scuffed at the knees and smeared with a bit of black grease and his feet inhabit a pair of heavy, dirty boots. As if on cue (but not on purpose), he turns his head with the final tolling of the hour and resumes watching people as they move past him down the stairs, or approach on their way to the Skyrail's platform, and looks for John.

Comments

[magnetic]

Someone else may have chosen to show amusement in this moment, to widen the gap between perceived leader and follower. Erik only nods. "Fair enough."

He's not going to leave it at that, though. Now inspired to leave his seat, Erik rises to stand on one of the transparent glass portions of the carriage floor—not to fold his hands and gaze out the window, however, but to lean there, still facing John, now framed by open air and the scrolling cityscape. Nearly every movement of his comes with a leisurely grace; this, at least, is perhaps similar to any number of his counterparts.

"But don't sell yourself short. If I wanted to start a fire, I'd use a match. You've already proven yourself far more valuable than that."

[fuckrobertfrost.livejournal.com]

Well. That's what he wanted to hear, but it doesn't quite shake the uneasiness. Why the parallel response doesn't comfort him, he's not sure. Maybe it's because he's older, and Magneto is younger. Maybe a million things. John relegates it to the ever growing category of let's not think about it right now, a category that conveniently renews itself in terms of 'right now'. He just shifts and straightens up, a sort of unconscious response to Erik getting up.

"Okay." That's a great reply, really, but he can't think of anything else. "... I probably won't have anything else to report for a while."

[magnetic]

"Fine." This word alone does not sound even remotely petulant, despite that being its most common use anymore. "We can focus on conditioning in the meantime."

For emphasis, Erik pauses here, his arms folded loosely across his chest, and pushes his head forward in a kind of provocative little nod. His eyebrows hardly lift, and in the way his mouth plays at curving just so, again he manages to make the promise of a friendly look seem more like a threat. "If you feel you're up to it, of course."