[John hardly has time to react before Madrox shoves him to the wooden floor; he sprawls at their feet. The first thing he smells, feels, knows is the crackling of fire behind a grate to the side of him. Then it's the sudden, welcoming and painful warmth after so many hours of ice.]
Fuck. [He groans. He's aching now, in more ways then one, and it takes him a moment too long to push himself to his knees, lift his head.
And then he's not sure he should have lifted his head at all. John's eyes immediately harden. His teeth clench together. There he is: old, wrinkled, and so poised, with eyes shining with his twisted, condescending, so certain wisdom. Something inside John shakes violently. He wonders how Mystique can perfect that look so well, how even now, looking at her, all he sees is the man that had once meant a better future to him. A better future for himself.]
Erik.
[He rasps Magneto's name out. Maybe it's better Mystique is so good at this; it's easy to look up at her with a wide, fearful, reverent gaze as if he is Magneto. As if he is returning to the fold. (He is here to fool the bitch anyway.) For a fleeting, terrifying moment, John remembers why he had joined. Thinks where he could be if he was accepted back with all this tech, this intel... Someone's right-hand man once again, not a weak, useless terrorist under house arrest.
He leans back, tries to stand. Madrox rests a steadying and warningly firm grip on his shoulder, one John sneers at and violently pushes away as he stumbles to his feet.]
no subject
Fuck. [He groans. He's aching now, in more ways then one, and it takes him a moment too long to push himself to his knees, lift his head.
And then he's not sure he should have lifted his head at all. John's eyes immediately harden. His teeth clench together. There he is: old, wrinkled, and so poised, with eyes shining with his twisted, condescending, so certain wisdom. Something inside John shakes violently. He wonders how Mystique can perfect that look so well, how even now, looking at her, all he sees is the man that had once meant a better future to him. A better future for himself.]
Erik.
[He rasps Magneto's name out. Maybe it's better Mystique is so good at this; it's easy to look up at her with a wide, fearful, reverent gaze as if he is Magneto. As if he is returning to the fold. (He is here to fool the bitch anyway.) For a fleeting, terrifying moment, John remembers why he had joined. Thinks where he could be if he was accepted back with all this tech, this intel... Someone's right-hand man once again, not a weak, useless terrorist under house arrest.
He leans back, tries to stand. Madrox rests a steadying and warningly firm grip on his shoulder, one John sneers at and violently pushes away as he stumbles to his feet.]