sixwordstories | (no subject)

So I was thinking-- [Flop. Where there used to be space on the couch next to Charles, now it's full of Raven, who's just going to peek at the printed coordinates like she has any idea what they all meant. So many numbers...] --I should totally come with you and Erik to pick up the next batch of students. After this whole Shaw thing is over and done with, you guys are gonna need a hip, young person to convince them that they aren't being recruited for a secret army or whatever. And I am definitely the right girl for that position.

[ His glance goes sidelong, mouth quirking upward slightly because he can't help it, knowing he's all-in-all being once again deemed the old man (and less than hip at that, Erik evidently having taken the Groovy role for himself, of course) but finding if he considers it further, it's probably...you know, true. Not that he's about to admit it. Raven does that for him often enough as it is.

His inhale goes through the entirety of his posture as he finally turns his head toward her, tilts it back a bit to get a better look at her - the lamp on the side table casting half her face into shadow. He wonders sometimes where she might have ended up, had she chosen some other household to raid for sustenance and then rids himself of the wondering. It doesn't bear much thinking of. She's here now, his family.

He doesn't expect that to change any time soon. ]

Afterwards, perhaps. Though I'm not inclined to make any promises just yet.

[ Rather than patronizing (which he can be, often is) his tone tonight is mild with fondness, things he doesn't say such as we're not certain how this all will be resolved, who's going to come out on top. It feels, if he's honest, as though they are building toward something more than they can see, but he can't explain or prove his gut; it's just a feeling for the moment. ]

[Meanwhile, Raven is quite certain they'll beat the odds. How could they not? Sure, Shaw had his team, but theirs was better. Maybe she had read too many fantasy books, but in her opinion, it was always the ones fighting to save something that had more will, more drive, than the ones trying to destroy it. Shaw was like- Hm. He was like Captain Hook! And sure he was scary and powerful, but-

Actually, let's stop that comparison, lest she start sounding like a five year-old ~~even if it was totally accurate~~. ~~..Besides, who would even be Peter?~~

Anyway.

In all honesty, she was more worried about the aftermath than the actual fight. The reaction from the CIA officers was... a little disheartening, at best, although alright, maybe it was too abrupt to just shift into one of them without any warning. They were paid and trained to be paranoid of things that could be considered a threat. So. Maybe they weren't the best to judge by.

She decides not to think of it anymore either. They had to fight this battle, even if she wasn't entirely ready to come out in the open about what she was. Luckily the idea of not having to hide anymore squashed most of her nerves about it all. She'd finally be able to be herself.]

Fine, fine. [Raven sinks down into the couch a little, getting comfortable with her cheek pressed against his shoulder. The numbers on the page are barely visible from the angle at which she's sitting now, but she gestures to them anyway.] Are each of those lines of numbers a different mutant? That's unreal. I wonder how they've stayed hidden for so long.

And there was Erik, leaning against the doorjamb with his arms folded, just taking up space like he belonged there, "Where are we off to next?" He was still feeling a little jet-lagged from their last trip, but not enough that it was a bother.

So I was thinking-- [Flop. Where there used to be space on the couch next to Charles, now it's full of Raven, who's just going to peek at the printed coordinates like she has any idea what they all meant. So many numbers...] --I should totally come with you and Erik to pick up the next batch of students. After this whole Shaw thing is over and done with, you guys are gonna need a hip, young person to convince them that they aren't being recruited for a secret army or whatever. And I am definitely the right girl for that position.

[ His glance goes sidelong, mouth quirking upward slightly because he can't help it, knowing he's all-in-all being once again deemed the old man (and less than hip at that, Erik evidently having taken the Groovy role for himself, of course) but finding if he considers it further, it's probably...you know, true. Not that he's about to admit it. Raven does that for him often enough as it is.

His inhale goes through the entirety of his posture as he finally turns his head toward her, tilts it back a bit to get a better look at her - the lamp on the side table casting half her face into shadow. He wonders sometimes where she might have ended up, had she chosen some other household to raid for sustenance and then rids himself of the wondering. It doesn't bear much thinking of. She's here now, his family.

He doesn't expect that to change any time soon. ]

Afterwards, perhaps. Though I'm not inclined to make any promises just yet.

[ Rather than patronizing (which he can be, often is) his tone tonight is mild with fondness, things he doesn't say such as we're not certain how this all will be resolved, who's going to come out on top. It feels, if he's honest, as though they are building toward something more than they can see, but he can't explain or prove his gut; it's just a feeling for the moment. ]

[Meanwhile, Raven is quite certain they'll beat the odds. How could they not? Sure, Shaw had his team, but theirs was better. Maybe she had read too many fantasy books, but in her opinion, it was always the ones fighting to save something that had more will, more drive, than the ones trying to destroy it. Shaw was like- Hm. He was like Captain Hook! And sure he was scary and powerful, but-

Actually, let's stop that comparison, lest she start sounding like a five year-old ~~even if it was totally accurate~~. ~~..Besides, who would even be Peter?~~

Anyway.

In all honesty, she was more worried about the aftermath than the actual fight. The reaction from the CIA officers was... a little disheartening, at best, although alright, maybe it was too abrupt to just shift into one of them without any warning. They were paid and trained to be paranoid of things that could be considered a threat. So. Maybe they weren't the best to judge by.

She decides not to think of it anymore either. They had to fight this battle, even if she wasn't entirely ready to come out in the open about what she was. Luckily the idea of not having to hide anymore squashed most of her nerves about it all. She'd finally be able to be herself.]

Fine, fine. [Raven sinks down into the couch a little, getting comfortable with her cheek pressed against his shoulder. The numbers on the page are barely visible from the angle at which she's sitting now, but she gestures to them anyway.] Are each of those lines of numbers a different mutant? That's unreal. I wonder how they've stayed hidden for so long.

And there was Erik, leaning against the doorjamb with his arms folded, just taking up space like he belonged there, "Where are we off to next?" He was still feeling a little jet-lagged from their last trip, but not enough that it was a bother.