The Best Laid Plans. [open]
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.