Erik Magnus Lehnsherr (master_magnus) wrote in oh_marvelous, @ 2011-12-18 22:14:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | z: om1: !complete, z: om1: affiliation: brotherhood, z: om1: character: erik lehnsherr, z: om1: location: new york, z: om1: past character: valentina allegr |
Who wants to be good? People are good when they are afraid.
Characters: Magnus and open to anyone! Multi-threads if you want. If someone wants a conversation with him and someone else wants to fight him, we can work that out.
Setting: New York City. That's right. Out on the town.
Content: Violence maybe if it comes to that. Or a delightful chat. Your choice.
Summary: Magnus comes to New York to meet with a potential recruit and, when that proves fruitless, spends a little time in the city.
Fear was debilitating and it was ultimately stupid. Fear was something Magnus wore like a shroud, sequestered in his manor, hidden away from the world. He ventured out now and then for the Brotherhood, but never to any place where he might get "caught." There was always some excuse to be made, after all, and other things to do safe in office. Fear of the world was an old man's cross to bear- and Magnus was growing bored with fear. Who did he even have to fear, really? Charles' X-Men who were so laughably few in numbers? S.H.I.E.L.D. with their big metal helicarriers and their countless guns? Perhaps the currently split and continually ineffectual Avengers? Hardly. Certainly there was nothing to fear from his wayward children gone, he'd heard, out west. As he left his teleporter in an alleyway and stepped into a bar in District X, Magnus realized that he wasn't even sure what it was he'd feared so much that he'd secluded himself on Genosha.
Were someone to recognize him and S.H.I.E.L.D. showed up (after they scrambled to get plastic weapons, of course), he could bring the entire city down on their heads before they even fired off a shot. Having that knowledge was a wonderful feeling. Not quite so wonderful, however, as the energy in the city around him. The air pulsed with it, prickles on his skin, and running from deep in the earth far up into the sky he could feel the metal. Magneto was so used to the metal on Genosha, it was like an old tired friend, he knew every inch of his island's structure and the feeling of it was simply second nature now. But here was something different, a complete assault on all of his senses down to the power buzzing around in his body just itching to spill out and touch every scrap of metal it could find. There were shining new things towering above and old rusted things buried deep in the ground and ancient things in museums and every building every car every piece of jewelry and filling and microchip and microscopic speck of ore in a lump of dirt smashed beneath his polished leather shoe. It was enough to overwhelm a mere mortal which, fortunately, Magneto was not. He shut it down. There was business to attend to now, indulgence could wait.
Business, as it turned out, proved futile. The promise of something spectacular drew him out of Genosha in the first place; whispers of a young mutant with particularly strong abilities that he had to try and claim for the Brotherhood. Usually he would've sent Mystique for someone he wanted so badly but she hadn't been immediately available and he'd heard Xavier was recruiting. Magneto intended to get there first and indeed, he did, only to be sorely disappointed. The mutants powers had been highly exaggerated and, though he did extend an invitation to Genosha, he did not forsee a future for this one within the Brotherhood. More's the pity, he supposed, but he didn't completely regret the trip. This had proven to be a rather freeing experience in some ways and, as he exited the bar for the street, he decided it wouldn't hurt, perhaps, to stay for just a little while.
Magnus left District X, his hands buried in the pockets of his overcoat- real weather, he often missed that- and his face down turned beneath the brim of a hat. None of the passerby paid him much attention, too wrapped up in their paltry little lives and distracted with the cold. There was little to fear as far as recognition and, as far as Magnus could see, an opportunity at hand to see first hand the state of the world outside his little island bubble here in the den of his enemies. Delightful joke on them, especially if he chose to wreak a little havoc while he was here. The streets were still busy even though the evening grew late and window fronts bright with festive decorations for the upcoming holidays. Magnus wandered for awhile before he finally stopped at a sidewalk cafe and ordered a coffee. The inside of the establishment was jammed packed because of the cold, but he didn't mind it too terribly much and he liked the frigid wrought iron chair he settled into.
There was nothing amiss with a little amusement, surely, he mused as he gazed at the building across the street. He idly stirred sugar into the steaming cup of coffee, his eyes on the brick facade across the way as he reached down into it's depths with his powers. There went a screw in a girder, how unfortunate. That beam felt particularly weak, liable to collapse at any moment. There went another screw, and another. He smiled. He sipped his coffee. I really ought to get out more often, he decided. It was such a lovely chilly evening.