#returninggalastart

[lvrexx]

;;; radio

Tony: testing , testing --

[gcthambat]

Usually, Bruce handled situations on his own with the much needed guidance of Alfred. Instead, here he stood with a decent amount of strangers in a home he never would’ve brought any of them to, most likely, in his and their lifetimes. Despite the piling regret and worry for his son, he allowed everyone inside and had done absolutely no explaining when it came to the equipment and tech that he possessed. The lab was another story entirely but, it came in use for this. His speech came out rushed and he’d only stopped pacing to address the person, “We’re on a time crunch here so just tell me what you’re best at and we’ll figure out how we’re going to do this. Just start talking, we’ll figure it out.”

[erikfuckingsuggestion]

i have never liked the box of knives/you said was a paradox because you’re kind

@optiics, (x)

The event was in full swing by the time Erik and Scott crossed paths. The once-feared nemesis of the X-Men leaned up against the bar beside him, raising two fingers at the guy behind the polished mahogany counter to attend them. "Drink?" he offered. It was unlikely that either of them would ever be friends, but Erik believed in burying the hatchet where possible. Scott was a mutant, and that made him ipso facto an ally. An old woman was seated on the barstool to Erik's left and she wobbled, nearly falling off. "Esti-Esti! come on," he caught her under the arm. "I think you've had enough for one night," he snorted. "Rubbish," she waved him off boorishly. "Why are you wearing sunglasses indoors?" she slurred, and gestured to her own eyes, brows knitted together in confusion. "Why-uh oh-" she listed forward, unsteady. "I'm calling you a taxi," Erik insisted. "Help me get her up?" he looked at Scott, expectant, as he levered his arm under her right shoulder and prepared to lift her to her feet. "Just put your arm under hers and let gravity do the rest," he instructed. During their conversation in the kitchen Scott had learned Erik was a former medic of all things, a profession he did not associate with Magneto, but there you have it. "We'll lift on three."

[shcrpedge]

flashes of crimson rapidly crosses her vision as her eyes lingered on the pale ceiling. squinting once in a while to try and ease the pain of just simply opening her eyes --- she found her attempts less than forthcoming. so she rolled her face into the pillow beneath her. ❝ why won’t it STOP.  ❞ she spoke through gritted teeth as the tears fell silently from the persistent burning.

[pcrtho-blog]

loki’s aware that she’s probably being more of a hindrance than a help to the others in wayne manor.  but there also wasn’t much that she could do, other than maybe provide encouragement or distraction when it got to be too overwhelming.  “will somebody please tell me that there’s some good news already?” she complains loudly to anyone that will listen to her.

[gcthambat]

Bruce kept his eyes on the Egyptian temple, looking over the fine details. The temple itself was created in 10BC and only added to the museum after the temple was gifted to America in the late 1900′s. Engraved in the architecture were graphics that he couldn’t see from where he stood but he had seen them in his studies at some point. It wasn’t until he felt a presence next to him that he chose to offer some of the information he knew. In a calm tone, he began with, “Have you ever heard of the Nile god Hapy?”

[erikfuckingsuggestion]

i can remember/standing by the wall/and the shame was on the other side

@groovytelepath (x)

2 days ago

Esti patted him on the shoulder. "Go," she insisted. She was nearing 70, with a head of wild flyaway white hair and a kind smile. She slipped the invitation into his hand. "I don't have an ID," he told her as he read it. He sounded almost relieved. She wouldn't have it. "Nonsense. It hardly takes any time at all. You know your friend can help you." "You mean Charles." Erik sighed. It was true, Charles could easily smooth things away, but it made a convenient excuse. "Yes, darling. I see you. I know you sit in that room and listen to your little radio box all day. It's not healthy. Get out! Mingle! Maybe you'll meet somebody." "They don't allow you to use your abilities," he scoffed derisively as he read down the long list of rules. "I'm not going to an event like that." "Don't be silly. They're just worried about a Thanos-lite wrecking the million dollar party." "It's xenophobic." "Honey, everybody's xenophobic." Erik rolled his eyes. "Charles invited me too," he admitted. He hadn't seen the actual forms, though. Of course Esti would have them. "Will you be my Valentine, Mrs. Veler?" What he really meant was buffer, but potato-tomato. "You need to make a move on that man," she chastized. "Maspik yim ze," he groaned, digging his fingers into his temples. "I'm much too old for Valentine's, but oh, hell. All right. But NO funny business, mister. I could tell you were a hotshot from the second you walked through the door." She wagged her finger at him.

Glancing down at the simple bracelet over his left wrist, Erik pushed through the interior doors of the museum and entered the lobby with Esti's arm in his. She immediately beelined for the bar, and he let her go with a chuckle. "Chas v'shalom you get through this sober," he poked her in the side. "Get, get!" she lightly pushed him toward the crowd. "Make some friends, matok. You're a good man. It won't be hard. Just try and relax, you look so stiff." The term black-tie event really meant little to Erik, but Charles had once again been his savior and loaned him a suit that was relatively his size. On top of that, he'd shaved, combed and brushed his hair, and elected for a simple blue and white crocheted kippah at the back of his head rather than a hat. Somehow his tye-dye beanie proclaiming 420 Blaze It... didn't seem appropriate. He noticed Charles moving through the entrance from across the room and silently moved to his side. Naturally Charles was dressed to the nines, looking sharp as ever, and he didn't imagine Erik's eyes lingering on him. They were in this liminal space, friends like ships passing in the night, existing under cover of darkness, unable to put voice to words. Finally, Erik just said, "good evening," after clearing his throat lightly. "You look..." nice "healthy." So close.