AI! ANIRON ELF EARS...
as written in roleplay by
Kabanas and Morgana
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Disclaimer:
Neither Cyclops nor Phoenix belong to us,
regretably, because don't you think we write them so much better then those
poncey Marvel employees? Well, I do. But as Krista likes to say, we do
take credit for the sense of humor we've imposed upon these two charming
characters, as well as the ...ahem... unique situations they find themselves
in. If there's anything you don't understand in here, that's probably because
it's an inside jokeball (catch it!) and no one in the world but Kris and
I understand it. Don't worry. It's not just you. Anywho... Cyke was masterfully
written by the incredibly talented Ms. Cabanas, while I took on FIRE AND
LIFE INCARNATE for this sweet little jaunt...
Colosseum Theatre, downtown New York. 8:30 PM, Friday night...
Cyclops
The theatre had never been so packed before. The line of people wanting
to get in was so extensive that it wrapped around the block and traffic
that had congregrated around the building was congested all the way up
the avenue. A flicker of worry raced past Cyclops' face as he brushed past
the ticket booth and stepped through the double doors of upper Manhattan's
Cinerama. He frowned down at Jean, tossing her a look that was plain to
read in its confusion. Not that I'm frightened, Jean, but do
those people have elf ears?>>
Cyclops
The team leader stood out like a skyscraper amidst the crowd of elves and
humans in the theatre and didn't fail to look the least bit good-looking.
Dark features and a clean shaven cheek were complimented by his pressed
attire of camel slacks, a black merino dress shirt, and a tasteful crimson
tie. His trench coat was rested on his arm. Going to the movies didn't
prevent Scott Summers from dressing up. A stickly gentleman with long,
braided blonde hair brushed past Cyclops with little notice and soon thereafter,
some weirdo in a gray magician's hat followed. What was this, a sci-fi
convention? Scott sought out his wife's hand and gripped it tightly. Let
them try to break through -that- hold.
Phoenix
It's not the Elves you have to watch out for, sweetheart. It's
the Orcs that one has to be wary around.>> Jean's snicker was all but
glaringly obvious in the mild expression that was set upon her face as
she replied. They looked stunning together, as always. Diminutive and slender,
she directly contrasted her husband's height and muscular figure. People
looked twice at them, and not because they were mutants. Separate, or together,
neither failed to garner attention, and tonight is no exception. A Boromir
was attempting to catch her attention, his eyes wandered over her figure
which was clad in an elegantly casual fashion. Bluejeans hugged her perfectly,
a light blue knit turtleneck sweater and black leather trenchcoat that
reached down to her knees adorned her upper body. Her hair was knotted,
and her makeup exquisite.
Phoenix
Blatantly ignoring the costumed man's attempts to beckon her attention,
she stepped closer to Scott, her arm pressed against his as she studied
the various brightly lit movie posters framed about the walls of the theatre.
She'd been wanting to see this since she'd first heard it was to be released.
Pardon her while she's very anxious to get inside. The ultra-organized
couple had a battle plan already. Jean would find seats, Scott would secure
the popcorn and drinks. Tickets had been purchased in advance, and the
parking spot efficiantly selected. Getting in to this movie was an Op if
ever one had been planned. Glancing up to Scott with a smile, she tugged
his hand lightly as the line moved forward.
Cyclops
growled. Mm-hmm. You just point that plastic sword somewhere
else, buddy.>> he kept to himself. Shooting the knight an unimpressed
look and a tightening of his jaw, Scott stepped in to physically shield
Jean away from the Braveheart reject, his annoyance trailing after him.
It went without saying that he just didn't take that kind of crap from,
well, anybody. He had been kicking ass since he was a teen--did this man
really want to get hurt? The team leader calmed his jealousy down and escorted
Jean to the popcorn lines, following up on their plan. "I can take care
of this, Red, what do you feel like?" he inquired, nodding to the menu.
Jean could easily guide him to their seats via telepathy. Alright, so sue
them for taking advantage of being mutants once in a while. Fiddling with
his back pocket to pull out a fat wallet, Scott once more scanned the room
for anything out of the ordinary. Can you blame him, though? He's a superhero.
Phoenix
regarded the overhead lists and decided quickly. "Large popcorn with extra
butter and that white cheddar stuff and an Evian, please and thank you."
Unbearably cute. Reaching up to place a kiss on his cheek, she turned and
made for theatre twelve, stadium seating and pristine sound in her immediate
future. Stepping into the dimmed lights, she easily found the perfect seats,
halfway up and right in the center. She placed her jacket and Scott's on
the seat beside her, leaning back in the comfortable chair. Hmm. The seat
arms lifted, she discovered, looking pleased. Easier to make herself comfortable
against Scott for the three- hour movie. The mundane actions of a movie
experience were scrolled through as she found the headrest mussing her
hair and pulled it out of it's knot to drop down to her mid-back. Her eyes
remained fixed vigilantly upon the door.
Cyclops
stepped up to the counter and honored her order seriously and with some
degree of haste. God knows the horde of fairies his wife would have to
avoid in the theatre. And if that plastic-sword toting fellow followed
her... Shaking his head, Scott decided to listen to his sweet tooth instead
of his head. Of course, that meant going for a box of Nestle's Buncha Crunch,
which he would probably be popping in his mouth like crack throughout the
movie. Collecting the popcorn, bottle of Evian, box of chocolate and his
large rootbeer, Scott muscled his way through the shoving crowd and jogged
up the stairs which lead to Theatre 12. Jean didn't have to lead him there
telepathically after all. He just followed her mental signature which was
innately present at all times.
Cyclops
A group of shoeless, curly-haired teenagers rush past the team leader yelling
for directions to the bathroom. He'd have to ask Jean about them later...
The sneak previews were ready to begin when Scott found himself jogging
down the dimly-lit, carpeted stairs down to Jean's row. Low, polite whispers
of "Excuse me" and several apologies followed before Scott ended up at
his seat. A whiff of cologne coiled from the air that he unsettled from
his seat. "You're not going to believe this, but I found potential recruits
downstairs," Jean's husband deadpanned. This movie had better be worth
all this effort...
Phoenix
had been keeping her eye on Scott's progress up the stairs, and laughed
at the comment which on any given day might have been a serious one. A
few flurried moments passed as they both got settled, placing drinks in
their cupholders, snacks held between her knees for a moment as she shoved
up the armrest between them and leaned against her husband, quite enjoying
that waft of cologne. But guess who had taken a seat in front of them,
one level down. Yes, Boromir. And his friend Galadriel, who glanced back
at Scott every few moments, trying to seem inconspicuous as she gaped at
Jean's husband. Pursing her lips, Jean tried not to chuckle. She did rest
her head on his shoulder, though, and stared directly at the previews,
smirking. She thinks your goooorgeous...>>
Cyclops
The arm that was snaked over Jean's shoulder
quietly took its time reaching down for a popcorn. Chomp. "She's got good
taste..." he replied. The smirk that formed on his face should be felt
by her. While the screen flickered and the lights dimmed, Scott couldn't
help but think how much of a damn genius Forge was. Before they had left
the mansion, Cyclops' second pair of shades were fitted with glare-resistant
glass and coated with a skylight filter to correct the color he saw through
the dense ruby covering. Scott could practically see everything like everyone
else. The moment felt rare, and he wondered why he hadn't asked Forge to
upgrade his glasses earlier.
Cyclops
While the dancing, animated popcorn flicked a clapboard on the screen that
read: "Please turn off your cell phones," Scott's eyes wandered down to
the figure besides his admirer. "Same guy from earlier or are you just
a medieval babe magnet?" Scott always had the most serious tone in his
voice whenever he tossed out a joke. His fingers fiddled with opening the
box of chocolates, not knowing what he's going to get. Well, how could
he possibly see the box, when half of him was covered with Jean? Smooch.
Right atop her head.
Phoenix
grinned, pulling the box out of his hand and opening it for him. She handed
it back, but not before stealing a chocolate in retaliation for the popcorn
pilfering. Once she was through with the chocolate she leaned up to place
a kiss on his jaw. Those Men of Gondor always want what they
can't have,>> Jean replied, casting her gaze back to the Star Wars
trailer. Joy. Three hours of teen angst.
Cyclops
The back of Scott's hand is brought to his mouth to stop the laughter that
came out of it. He hadn't failed to catch her idle thought about Star Wars
and was utterly amused by it. "You say that like I have a clue about what
you're talking about," he said in mock-reproach, settling back in his seat.
This one wasn't very much of a reader. He kept to newspapers, Scientific
American, National Geographic, and Motor Trends, but that was about it
for reading material. Dear God, how many previews did the average theatre-goer
have to sit through, anyway? Then again, the Summers weren't much for going
to the movies every Friday. It seemed to Scott that the entire theatre
fidgeted as one anxious collective. Pardon him for not having read the
trilogy in elementary school. He sort of never had a normal childhood.
"I'm expecting blood, guts, and lasers. Am I going to be disappointed?"
The question was so low, it could only be heard by her. Talk about a normal
couple.
Phoenix
snickered, replying in the same undertone he was speaking in. "Blood, check.
Guts, check. Lasers... only if The Hobbits' phasers run out of juice,"
Jean answered, chewing quietly on her popcorn. What a cutie, her husband.
She had to force herself not to choke laughing at the ambient 'What's a
Hobbit?' that she picked up from his thoughts. Before she could answer,
though, the lights were dimmed....
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There's
a very real possibility that if you beg us, we'll write more... :>
~Morgana