1-2-3-4, I Declare A Prank War!

[x]

A stadium. Of all the things Erik could have done, he’d decided to bring an entire baseball stadium with him to Washington, D.C., and then, as if that were not enough, had decided to drop the sodding thing on top of him. And not to mention the bloody Sentinels Erik had decided to tinker with. This would not do. No, it most certainly would not do. Charles was bloody irritated and Erik was the reason behind all of it.

“He’s all yours, Charles!” Raven was a blessed angel sent from God.

Immediately, Charles reached into Erik’s head and dragged him out of unconsciousness, forcing him to remove the damned piece of stadium pinning Charles to the ground. The telepath then scrambled up to a seated position, cursing when he cut his hand on a bit of rubble. Oh, Erik was going to pay for all of the hell he’d put them through.

He adjusted his grip on Erik’s mind and then reached out the minds of everyone around them. Simultaneously, he loosened his hold on Erik while convincing everyone in a two-hundred-and fifty mile radius that Erik was dressed in the most ridiculous sparkly blue dress and horrendous red wig. Furthermore, he planted the suggestion in those minds that such was Erik’s standard costume. He’d take care of everyone his baseline range didn’t cover once he returned to Westchester and had access to Cerebro.

If Erik was going to insist on being an asshole, then Charles would gladly play at that game. 

[Erik Lehnsherr]

Magneto was well aware that Charles was inside his head. He could feel it. He used him to remove the metal that was currently pinning him against the ground, and Magneto felt completely helpless for he was not in control of what he was doing. This was why he had his helmet. To prevent Charles from stopping him from executing his plans. Yet this time, he was unsuccessful. He supposed that ultimately, they had achieved their goal. Though it had been more by Charles' methods rather than Magneto's. That left him disappointed. Magneto stood there, as if waiting to see what Charles would do with him. He had never been a man to overstay his welcome in his head. But he could still feel part of him there. The only thing that distracted him was the sudden looks he was receiving from others. It wasn't that they were looking -- he was used to people staring at him when he exposed his powers -- it was how they were looking at him. It should have been an expression of fear, but instead, it looked like . . . curiosity. And, something else, something he could not quite make out . . . until he head someone snickering at him. It was clear that they were trying to stifle a laugh, but were unsuccessful. Why were they laughing at him?! They should fear them! He had just put out a very spine chilling speech against humans!

"Nice dress!" One of them called out, calling Magneto to sharply turn to look at them. Nice what?! The comment seemed to cause a chain reaction and give the others courage to continue the laughter and tease. "Nice hair!" "Looking good, Maggie!" He even heard someone let out a whistle! What the hell was going on! Why were they -- suddenly, Magneto slowly turned to look toward Charles direction. What had he done?! What was he doing?! How was he supposed to be taken seriously when Charles was doing god knows what! Magneto was not pleased, to say the very the least. And he was going to make Charles pay. Starting with getting him out of his head. Magneto eyes went to Mystique, never otherwise considering doing this, but desperate times called for desperate measures and if Charles wanted to play this game, then bring it. Magneto closed his eyes, searching within it to find the times that he had been with Raven. Images of her naked and entangled with Magneto. Starting with their first time, on the couch in the Xavier's mansion, which Erik happened to know that Charles frequently sat on. Only now, he would know exactly what had happened on that couch! That better get him out of his head! He was braced for that one split second that he may be able to catch Charles off guard with the sudden images of Magneto's intimacies with Raven -- someone Charles perceived as his sister -- and hopefully would be able to reach for his helmet in that moment. But in the meantime, he gave Charles a lot to see . . . far more than he may desire.

[x]

Charles snickered like a school boy at the reactions he was getting. He could feel Erik’s surprise when the reactions started. The moment of realization was a beautiful thing, and Charles just offered Erik a shit-eating grin. He really was having way too much fun with—

Raven, naked and gorgeously blue, wrapped around Eri—

Charles immediately slammed up his shields and fixed Erik with a look that would’ve had him six feet under if looks could kill. He’d had his suspicions when Raven accosted him in the kitchen, naked and blue and full of bitter indignation for years of slights she’d accumulated against him, but the confirmation of it was enough to wreck him. The stadium was nothing compared to what Erik had just done.

The telepath gritted his teeth and motioned for Hank to come help him up. Erik was after the bloody helmet, no doubt. And so, Charles reached out again and planted one final suggestion in every mind he could reach: that Erik’s helmet was a large paper mache head that bordered on the disturbing.

“You know, I was going to lift the illusion after a few good laughs, but just for that, I think I’m going to let it stick,” Charles said. “Maybe I should add in a new name for you, hmm? How does ‘Drag-neto’ sound to you?”

Oh, wouldn’t that make for a series of beautiful headlines. Charles seriously considered just doing it so he could make a scrapbook of all the headlines to follow.