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atthemercyof) wrote2012-03-09 08:22 pm
atthemercyof) wrote2012-03-09 08:22 pm
let the rain pitter-patter but it really doesn't matter if the skies, skies are grey
[ Locked to oldcardigans. Kingdom of Rust verse. ]
[ He's been back a few days now, and the ease into which he's resettled should be alarming but isn't. Erik is content in the knowledge that for now those who are housed underneath this roof are safe, that they could start confirming their hopes and dreams, begin building something for the future together. Charles' idea of a school feels more solid the more time goes by, and Erik can't quite wait until they get into it, start discussing the fundamentals, making a list of each thing they need to do. He's prepared to work on this, nervous but positive.
But the actual cementing of plans hasn't yet come to be, and he finds himself drifting while Charles is otherwise occupied. The sun shines weakly through the sitting room window, the glass hazy from the earlier rain shower, and Erik ends up sat on the window seat itself, knee crooked. Raven has a tendancy to leave glossy collections of paper behind her wherever she goes, and he grows tired of watching a tree shake, picks one up to idly flip through it.
It's ten minutes in before Erik starts sensing the small ball and clasp of metal that makes up Churchill's collar. He's got to give the cat credit, it's stealth is superb, stalking its way over to where Erik is as quick as it can, feet light when it jumps up beside him. He spares the creature a glance over the top of the magazine. ]
Shoo.
[ Churchill merely starts purring, as though Erik's attempt at imposing has hit all the right spots on its vendetta. ] Go away, I don't want you. Find your real owner. [ Winding its tail around Erik's ankle, still purring. ] I don't know what you'll think you'll accomplish by that. [ Padding lightly over to him before placing two paws on his hip as though he's prepared to lever himself up. ] I hope you dream of giant mice chasing you when you sleep.
[ But despite all of Erik's complaints, he lets it climb into his lap, Erik peering below an article about shoes to watch it curl into a ball and start it's incessant noise full force. Erik shies, flips the page and curls the magazine over to keep reading. And if perhaps he starts petting the thing, it's simply because of its audacity and strength of character. ]
oldcardigans. Kingdom of Rust verse. ][ He's been back a few days now, and the ease into which he's resettled should be alarming but isn't. Erik is content in the knowledge that for now those who are housed underneath this roof are safe, that they could start confirming their hopes and dreams, begin building something for the future together. Charles' idea of a school feels more solid the more time goes by, and Erik can't quite wait until they get into it, start discussing the fundamentals, making a list of each thing they need to do. He's prepared to work on this, nervous but positive.
But the actual cementing of plans hasn't yet come to be, and he finds himself drifting while Charles is otherwise occupied. The sun shines weakly through the sitting room window, the glass hazy from the earlier rain shower, and Erik ends up sat on the window seat itself, knee crooked. Raven has a tendancy to leave glossy collections of paper behind her wherever she goes, and he grows tired of watching a tree shake, picks one up to idly flip through it.
It's ten minutes in before Erik starts sensing the small ball and clasp of metal that makes up Churchill's collar. He's got to give the cat credit, it's stealth is superb, stalking its way over to where Erik is as quick as it can, feet light when it jumps up beside him. He spares the creature a glance over the top of the magazine. ]
Shoo.
[ Churchill merely starts purring, as though Erik's attempt at imposing has hit all the right spots on its vendetta. ] Go away, I don't want you. Find your real owner. [ Winding its tail around Erik's ankle, still purring. ] I don't know what you'll think you'll accomplish by that. [ Padding lightly over to him before placing two paws on his hip as though he's prepared to lever himself up. ] I hope you dream of giant mice chasing you when you sleep.
[ But despite all of Erik's complaints, he lets it climb into his lap, Erik peering below an article about shoes to watch it curl into a ball and start it's incessant noise full force. Erik shies, flips the page and curls the magazine over to keep reading. And if perhaps he starts petting the thing, it's simply because of its audacity and strength of character. ]