For bloodbymetal: First Impressions

[stands_for_hope]

His first thought, upon returning to Earth, is to check on the President but it seems that that situation is in hand; those who would be dead are dead and those who are alive don't require medical assistance other than a young man who was already being pulled out of the metal mangle that had fallen on him. But his focus must be, can't be anything but, the man floating away through the air.

It's rare he shares the sky. And having heard of this man, having heard of what he can do and seeing the results of it around the destruction, he decides that the best thing he can do is go after him.

But he's heard enough that he doesn't immediately go for the conflict, the attack. Instead, he follows at a distance too far for any normal human to be able to sense, keeping track of the other man with his own enhanced senses. When he sees him start to descend, when he heads for an actual location, that's when Clark sweeps in, silent and slow, not from behind but from the front. Head on.

"I think we need to talk."

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[bloodbymetal]

Emitting a laugh, it only felt dry and void of any actual happiness; it was perfectly bitter. Magneto is a bad person. Misguided by revenge, but still not someone who will spare a life he didn’t deem necessary. He had no mercy or regard for peace. Yet, delving deeper into the complexity that formed Magneto, Erik gave off different volumes. Magneto will always be part of Erik, but the amount of Erik part of Magneto only drew in more complications.

He still talked, too tired of keeping it all bottled in as he usually did. Slowly, the tight hold he held onto the thread of burdens were unleashed. It was the similarities between Superman and Charles that pushed him. That sincere, pacifist naivety.

Charles will always be a broken point, and regretful yearning he will hold within.

“I am a bad person. I’ve done atrocious acts. I’ve killed with my bare hands,” Erik made sure he was keeping a strong stare on Superman, never wavering it. He was a broken man, but he won’t back into a weak corner. Not now, not ever. Yet, the fragility would seep in if he wasn’t careful.

“I don’t know what you are, or where to place you. All I know is what pertains to mutants and humans. A coexistence I believe is not possible. I am just…” Spent. Erik was walking a dangerous path, full of potential to grow into an even darker soul. His experiences shape him, and whether Superman would dent his straying destiny, it wasn’t clear quite yet. Unable to finish, he instead asked.

“Do you want to know what actually happened November 22nd of 1963?”

[stands_for_hope]

And Superman stared back, not with strength, not with hardness in his eyes, but with a well of compassion. Caring. Willingness to listen. Unwillingness to hate. Erik's words only made him believe his own theories more. Really bad people, he'd learned over the years, didn't think they were bad people. Didn't feel the blood on their hands. Didn't regret. And they definitely didn't try to warn off those who might try to help them.

As for November 22nd, 1963...

"I know it's not what the official report reads as," Clark said slowly.