Written in the Stars April 13th, 1912. 4: 56pm by Adréa
Disclaimer: The song is from Aida, so credit to Disney. The Scarlet Pimpernel... I don't know who it belongs to now, but it was written by the Baroness Orczy. Well, everyone else seems to own the X-Men. Marvel, Fox, Warner Brothers, Universal, etc. etc. Why can't I? Look! They'll work for twinkies and beer! It's true! They did this fic for twinkies and beer. Although I had to throw in a few steaks and peeps somewhere...
Author's Notes: I tried to make it not exactly like Cameron's movie! But some things kinda snuck in there and stuck. Be prepared for suckiness! (that even a word?) Big shout out and thanks to my best friend JenN who unknowingly gave be ideas and knowingly gave me every ounce of support she could.
Author's Notes2: I don't even own Amy and Jenn for they are based on people I know. I'm currently working on another fic involving them that would go much farther into their personalities, so sorry if you don't understand things or what not because they aren't well developed in this one. Now, on with the show!
"What happened to you?"
"The girl has more spunk than I thought," Robert said with a hiss of pain as he treated his face using the reflection of glossy wall below decks.
"Will she put two and two together?"
Robert laughed despite himself. It wasn't a good thing to do, for it might piss off his leader, and it stung bad. "Not a chance. She's into romance novels, not science fiction. If she was, then we could be worried. A simple excuse, and she'll eat it up."
The two people moved into another room, the previous one becoming intolerably smoky as Erik puffed away. "Good... The only problem now is that we can't seem to find her."
"She'll return to her quarters before dinner. No doubt she's still upset over what her new interest did to her," he said with an evil flash of yellow in his eyes.
As Erik chuckled it turned into another one of his coughing fits. Exasperated, he quenched the lit cigarette out against a lining of pipes above his head, leaving a round burnt mark on the otherwise white pipe. "Speaking of which..." he said as two familiar people entered the room with them. "How did he fair?"
Mortimer spoke, as usual. "He fought well. But we managed. Victor bashed the guy's head in. It's unlikely even his healing could survive that."
"Mortimer, where did you get those?" Robert asked, inquiring about the binoculars he held.
"Got 'em after Vic' broke my glasses. They work good enough when I need 'em."
With a brief pause, Erik removed his pocket watch and glanced at the time. "Only a couple hours until dinner. Victor, Mortimer, you should go back to second class for this meal. I don't want Charles peeking into your heads."
Quietly they left just as they had come. Once again leaving Erik and Robert alone. "I am counting on you, Raven, to deliver the girl as needed. Don't disappoint me."
"I won't. For the good of our people, I mustn't fail. And I won't."
"You never fail, Raven."
"I know," he said with a smile. Tipping his hat in good manners, Robert left Erik alone to ponder more about the future and what it held for him.
What he pondered wasn't promising for himself, but promising for his brothers. For his cause. If the ship did indeed sink as Raven's friend so... tentatively informed them, perhaps he would go down as a martyr to his cause, or some poetic way as that. He would become immortalized by his followers, spoken only with the highest regards. It was a small thing to ask for in return for his last great accomplishment.
But there were still a few things he had do to before he died.
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