| A Parade of Stars |
[08 Feb 2008|07:41am] |
Door slid to a close...and clicked to lock.
And now that he was sure no one was going to see the...mess that was in his room, Shiro sighed and stood where he stood, hand on the top of his hip as his eyes wandered from one underwear to another...and thank God they weren't women's. But all this after a hard day's work? Way to go, Jubilee.
He set his briefcase down on the floor by the side of his desk closest to the door and slid his sunglasses out of his suit pocket to put on his desktop. A right ran through brunet locks before he finally started towards the scattered underpants to pick them up.
Well, it was not like this was the first time this...intrusion happened to him but he never expected anything so sudden and vulgar (and now that he thought of it, he should have). See, this was the problem if one of your best friends was a skilled teleporter: no matter how much you lock your doors and windows, there was no way you could keep her from prancing into your room and doing random things to it and leaving you to clean her shit unless your walls had some magical elements that prevented a mutated gene from working.
Which, obviously, Shiro does not -- and in any case, it wasn't like the professor would permit it just because Jubilee was mistaking his room for a mess hall. (And damn, he did his best to keep everything neat.)
He'll have to have Words with Jubilee...for the nth time.
[ Closed. ]
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| The Best Laid Plans. [open] |
[08 Feb 2008|09:54am] |
Let it not be said that Erik Lensherr was an impatient man. While people could assume that having the ability to walk through walls implied that the person did not have the patience or the time to simply unlock a door, it was certainly not the case for Erik. For him, to use his powers was to use the abilities that God had given him. If he were made to feel ashamed of his abilities, if he was led to believe as others believed: that he was a freak of nature, an abnormality, then he would be a coward. Erik believed that everyone was here for a purpose and some were meant for higher purposes than others.
He collected the papers he'd been working on in the room that he had claimed as his own. It was the master bedroom, of course, and the wardrobe was filled with expensive clothes and shoes that had never belonged to him. The dresser contained nick-nacks and personal items that he didn't not care for, because they were not his. The older couple who owned them no longer needed them wherever they were now, but that was not to say that it was Erik's right to defile them.
With his notes in a plain manilla folder, he sunk through the floor and into the dining room, from where it was only a short walk to the living room, which had become the default meeting area in their short sojourn in this particular house. Several hours ago he had left a short note on the fridge-door with details for his Brotherhood of the meeting he was to hold here in half an hour or so. There were things that needed to be discussed, and they were not all of the protest-infiltrating variety.
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