#masterrofmagnetism

"What's it to you?" Billy grunted. He held his wrist, gripping it in an odd way. Supportive, but gingerly and on edge. Or maybe the man, Magneto as he had said, was the one who put him there. On edge, he meant. Billy had begun to hear the whispers, now that he was more in the area, around the name, and he was so sure the man seemed to want something from him.

That voice was enough to pause her step as she approached her front door. A second of doubt as she glanced behind her shoulder to find a face that was becoming all too familiar.

"Well congratulations."

Raising her brow in amusement, a few questions already springing to her mind as the tables had finally turned. How much did he figure out. Who helped him? And more importantly, what was his plan now.

Doug didn't usually drink. He had a bad first experience with alcohol and the Hellions, and even the rare times he did drink, it tended to make him sad and angry. Not conducive to having a good time. He wasn't usually the type to go to a bar, anyway. But it was rare that he spent time alone with Roberto and Sam, and even though the three of them were the only boys in the original New Mutants, he had never been much good at feeling like one of the guys. Trying to keep up with them, Doug wasn't sure how much he had drank.

And then of all people to spot in the crowd while Roberto and Sam had wandered off to make out or whatever it was they did when they went off alone... Doug couldn't believe his eyes. He thought maybe he imagined it, but the longer he looked, the more Doug he realized it couldn't be anyone but. Fucking Magneto!

Doug whipped back around to face the bar before Magneto could see him. Erik Lehnsherr. He hadn't seen him since the Quiet Council dissolved. Doug knew for a fact Magneto didn't want some kid from the X-Men bothering him, and Doug resolved to stay where he was and leave him alone.

But... The longer he waited... The more it seemed like Sam and Berto weren't coming back. And the more he started thinking about what he'd always wanted to say to Magneto, ever since he took over Professor X's job as Headmaster when Doug was a New Mutant. Doug had always wanted to tell him off for something in particular. It had been eating away at him ever since he came back from the dead that Erik definitely thought he was right. Doug was still mad about it!

Doug knew the courage had come from the alcohol. He knew this was a bad idea. He knew he was just going to annoy the fucking Master of Magnetism, which seemed like a great idea. But still he found himself making a determined beeline for the older man.

He could tell from the look on Erik's face that he wasn't welcome. Doug was more than a little terrified of him; he considered turning tail and running. But no. He had wanted to say this since he was a kid. Doug screwed his courage to the sticking place and said his piece.

lorna had lost count of how many days she had been in the facility. her only measure of time was the fact that shimmering emerald roots had become visible against her dark brown hair. she gauged it had been maybe a month based on that alone.

her room was bland, the collar around her neck always humming. a device meant to inhibit her powers that, at times, did not fully incapacitate her. there was no metal in her room as a result. no metal on any of those who came and went. questioning her. testing her. attempting to get a reaction out of her. she knew better than to push herself. after the first week or so, she had exerted herself enough, desperate to escape, that she spent most of the following week asleep.

she sat against the wall, legs pulled to her chest as she simply waited. she knew she was not alone here, but lorna had never been one to bet on someone else taking a stand. she wasn’t the kind to look down on any shred of hope, but she was realistic, too. analytical in the way her career in science had trained her to be.

alarms sounded as she sat deep in thought. hues lifted toward the ceiling, where flashes of red illuminated the room. lorna found it almost comical, as if the sound itself wasn’t disorienting enough. surely the change in lighting, like something out of a bad spy movie, would throw the facility staff off before they had a chance to grasp what was happening.

then she heard it. metal. the sound of metal creaking. crushing. not by her own hands.

it dawned on her exactly who was there. lorna had assumed there must have been other mutants being held here, someone finally breaking free. it was on brand, after all. then she felt the collar around her neck deactivate. quickly, she yanked it free before it could spring back to life and stop her again. moments later, she tore the door to her room from its frame and came face to face with the man she hadn’t intended on seeing today, or ever, really.

magneto.

@masterrofmagnetism

Manuel is, typically, not one to brew his own coffee. When you have money and power, it's simple to have someone weaker do it for you- whether via paying them, or by giving them the right motivation to cozy up to your good side.

Magneto isn't paying Manuel (thankfully, as a refund would be in order.) He didn't ask for the coffee at all, to be fair. But, Manuel presents it as an act of submission, all the same.

No one here seems to respect him on the virtue of being Emma Frost's favorite alone. But, if he can play his cards right… maybe being the favorite of multiple authority figures could win him some favor.

Unfortunately, Magneto doesn't seem on board with his plan. Ugh. Maybe he should've had someone else make the coffee and just stolen the credit for it.

Reflex is to sneak into Magneto's mind, to flood him with affection and gratitude since he clearly doesn't understand how this is supposed to go.

He holds back. Magneto knows him too well to not notice. He's only going to be able to use his powers on Magneto once, maybe twice, without repercussions. This isn't the hill he wants to die on.

First Impressions || Accepting!

Yes, he was quickly getting that impression. What was that saying about frying pans and fire? He'd escaped the fighting in one place only to find himself neck deep in more of it. Whether it was the same group or not, he had no intention of losing himself or any of his "crew" currently clustered around his boots.

Resisting the sudden urge to flick him in the nose as he complained, Alena simply rolled her eyes as she continued to clean the ugly wound. So dramatic. "Oh, don't fuss. I know it stings but if I don't clean it the infection you'll get will be far worse. "Still, her touch is noticeably softer as she removes more of the debris with tweezers. "If it's a professional wrestler you're after, I can always ask Dr. Mccoy if he's free.."

ask meme i don't feel like finding // accepting! @masterrofmagnetism