_magneto (_magneto) wrote in wariscoming, @ 2011-08-15 21:54:00 |
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Entry tags: | charles xavier, erik lensherr/magneto |
Who? Erik and Charles
What? Arriving, confusion, etc.
Where? In the middle of town, on a roof and then on a sidewalk.
When? Backdated to this past afternoon. :P
Rating? Probably not terribly high!
Erik wasn’t sure what had just happened. A moment ago he had been holding on to the plane for dear life, buffeted by wind and water as his power slipped and dissipated, submarine flying out of his grasp, Charles’s voice ringing through his ears, barely audible over the scream of the whirlwind and the engines, but loud and clear in his mind...
...and the next thing he knew, he was holding on to a flagpole on top of a building several stories high, feet firmly planted on the roof, no wind or water or giant submarine - and no shouts, either audible or in his head. He stepped away from the pole tentatively, almost sure it was going to disappear and he’d be back over the ocean the moment his grip slipped away, but the scene didn’t change. He was still on a roof, the pole was not the plane, and there was no submarine in sight.
Charles? he thought loudly, more of a mental shout than anything, hoping to catch the telepath’s attention if he was nearby. There was nothing, and Erik would have been lying if he said that the lack of a response didn’t make him even more uneasy than he already was.
The teleporter, he decided - that was how he came to be here. One of Shaw’s associates had a mutant power of teleportation according to their files... he must have taken Erik somewhere far from where the battle was happening, and left him here. That was the only logical explanation for this, wasn’t it? Turning, he scanned the roof for a way down, pausing to look down over the edge for a moment. The cars below looked... different. More sleek, more... flashy. They were distinctly not what he was accustomed to seeing.
Something was really not right here.
He headed for the door that he assumed would lead him down into the building. It was locked, but the metal knob practically crumbled under a touch of his power, and he headed down the stairs. He hoped the building was not going to be too crowded - he knew for a fact that he would stand out in this bright yellow monstrosity, and he made a mental note to tell Hank they needed to go with black next time, or at least some other color that didn’t make them stand out quite so much.
Another mental shout for his friend once he had made his way down through the building and out onto the sidewalk below, and Erik stood in place for a moment, trying to figure out where, exactly, he was supposed to go from here.