home message archive theme The name's Lance. Not much to say, other than I'm a mutant and not ashamed of it. I'm also not afraid to use my powers to protect myself and my kind, so don't expect mercy if you come here and pick a fight.

Other than that, I like music, geology, and hiking. What I don't like is judgemental assholes who try and decide what I am and what I intend to do without so much as talking to me. If you guess Senator Kelly, you guessed right.

pouring-rahne:

Lance has such deep eyes… was the only thing that the small redhead could really think as those amber gems locked in on her own emeralds, the precious stone-like stare with reflecting glints something that she’d really missed. Such a simple thing - the way light caught someone’s eyes… but never was the brilliance lost to the simplicity of the moment. Part of her knew he needed to hear those words (and in a way, part of her knew that she needed to say them). Both had taken each other for granted, both knew the pain of loneliness, of fear - the pain that being unable to trust people caused, and how it scarred down your very heart and soul. Even if the words were not thought out, the point was there.

Rahne loved Lance, and would never let him be alone if she could get away with it. He was just going to have to learn to deal with that fact. 

“I really don’t care what you’re doing; sometimes, you have to do things you regret, or that you don’t agree with to make things work. I just… don’t want anything to happen to you, or to Fred. Not physically, not emotionally, not mentally. You’re like family to me - albeit family I want to punch in the head at times, but family nonetheless.” her lips curved a joking smile, and a little brush of her hand over his dark hair before a second annoying ruffle of the strands followed. 

Things would go wrong? In a line of work that wasn’t legal, that was always a possibility… Rahne tried not to think about that. If something were to happen to him, the ache in her heart would be astronomical - even though she knew that there was no way to really make him change his mind and stay at the institute. Each time he went out, he was cheating death, Rahne understood that full well… 

What if, one day, his streak of luck ran out? It was really only a matter of time. Lance would either learn the hard way and stop, or cash his chips before he broke bank… and the latter was unlikely. Such a bull-headed boy would run the course of whatever he was doing until the well ran dry, and he was missing a limb, or a part of his heart. 

“Don’t worry about the food - I’ll pack it up for you to take home with you. You can take the pile over there to Fred - he’ll scarf them, and it’ll make it a little easier on you, no?”  

Before she could even really move to do so, the sounds of an unhappy, whimpering, near crying child came over the little plastic monitor clipped to her hip. Well, at least she got a little social interaction, huh? “Scratch that - there are containers in the uppermost left cabinet over the sink. Throw yours into a plastic. There’s cling wrap in there too, so feel free to just wrap around Fred’s food and take it. I’ve gotta’ go and tend to the babies.” 

Standing quickly, she blushed and chuckled, shaking her head. “Sorry. If you could throw our plates in the sink, I’ll take care of it in a few. It… was really, really nice seeing you again, Lance.” 

A quick hug followed, and before she could even begin to think, her legs were carrying her to her room to tend to the ever fussy little ones. 

Lance was surprised by the gesture. He hadn’t felt a hug, even so brief as that one was, in forever. It was nice. He smiled as she pulled away, and then watched as she left down the hall. He quietly stood up, walking over to the counter with the used dishes in hand. It took him only a few minutes to pack his food and leave, but not before cleaning all the dishes and leaving them in a neat stack by the sink.

Rahne has enough to take care of. He could at least do this.

[end.]