markedformore | (no subject)

Though Erik is still wary about this, after weeks of settling into a freer version of a life he's somewhat lived before, he thinks that he ought to reach out to Charles again. He's tried to give him space, but there's really no reasoning with him. He seems petty and childish, stubborn and wrong and it only infuriates Erik to be around him, but he has to remember that they're from different times.

Besides which, even with their differences, Erik still counts Charles' friendship as the most important one. Like Raven, he understands what it means to be a mutant, but they are in pursuit of a common goal -- or so he thinks, he can't be sure and that has been weighing on him recently, along with getting used to this modern city.

More than that, there is his powers to think of. With them returned, he cherishes and holds them close, practices them as often as he can, and never takes them for granted. Even now, after summoning Charles by phone to this middle neutral ground at a coffeeshop, he practices with the small filaments of metal all around him, none receiving as much attention as the metal base in the chess pieces before him.

He sips at his coffee and absently folds his napkin as he waits, not using his hands to help with his powers -- not needing to as his concentration grows more focused with every passing day.

Threaded | Flat

It was with some measure of self-consciousness that Charles entered the coffee shop. He'd had weeks to become reacquainted with the loss of his legs, to adjust to the use of his chair, but he'd spent the better part of a year hiding behind Hank's serum. It was a rather jarring change, the return of the voices and the return of his old injury, which he'd spent a great deal of time denying.

"Erik," he greeted, eyeing the chess board with a measure of skepticism.