Erik Lehnsherr (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
exothermia) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
driftfleet2016-09-03 10:12 am
exothermia) wrote in driftfleet2016-09-03 10:12 am
Entry tags:
(no subject)
Who: Erik, Charles, and those aboard the Heron
Broadcast: No
Action: The Heron
When: Now
[Erik feels groggy when he wakes. How long had he slept for? Time didn’t hold the same structure that it used to for him, not when he was off alone, but he was certain he had slept before midnight… Shifting in the bed, he automatically casts his arm over the person sleeping next to him, a habit that usually leaves him bereft when it comes up empty. He cracks open his eyes, something nagging at the back of his mind even before he sees--
Charles. He jerks his hand back, confusion taking over. Charles shouldn’t be here, not in Poland. He’d left the mansion weeks ago. A rapid glance around the room (metal walls, a locker, that odd-looking hovering chair they’d spent so long building--) only serves to disorient him further. Where was he? Erik sits up, pressing a hand to his eyes as he tries to think. He had been in Poland. Somewhere remote, an abandoned house in the woods somewhere (not his house, he had already gone there and left again) on his road east, and… information rises out his whirling thoughts. A ship. This was that spaceship. He could feel it now, extending out through his senses. But that had been years ago. This wasn’t right. Something was terribly wrong.
He pulls his hand away from his face and stares at it, jaw tight. On his pointer finger was a slightly irregular silver ring. On his ring finger was his wedding band.
He remembers that his heart is broken. He remembers why he went back to Poland to begin with, why this is the wrong place. He remembers.
Something shakes apart inside him, and the Heron does the same.]
[Days ago, the two mutants on the Heron fell asleep and didn’t wake up. A few days later, their appearance started to change, Erik’s hair growing scruffier and the odd few silver threads starting to creep in, while Charles’s simply disappeared altogether. Anyone paying attention would notice they had grown noticeably older in just a few days. Now, it seems like they’re waking up. And Erik’s return to consciousness stands to shake everyone else to attention whether they like it or not.
It starts as a vibration, humming through the metal surfaces of the ship. It increases rapidly, getting noisier and more violent, until everything is rattling. Loose metal items begin to lift off from wherever they lie, floating jerkily into the air. Those closer to the walls around the edges of the ship will find less of a disturbance, though the floor still does its best to mimic an earthquake.
And then, just as abruptly, it stops. Most of it. Those vibrations are still shivering through everything, screws and spoons spinning drunkenly on the floor. Strange... should anyone investigate that closed bedroom, the culprit is easy to find.]
Broadcast: No
Action: The Heron
When: Now
[Erik feels groggy when he wakes. How long had he slept for? Time didn’t hold the same structure that it used to for him, not when he was off alone, but he was certain he had slept before midnight… Shifting in the bed, he automatically casts his arm over the person sleeping next to him, a habit that usually leaves him bereft when it comes up empty. He cracks open his eyes, something nagging at the back of his mind even before he sees--
Charles. He jerks his hand back, confusion taking over. Charles shouldn’t be here, not in Poland. He’d left the mansion weeks ago. A rapid glance around the room (metal walls, a locker, that odd-looking hovering chair they’d spent so long building--) only serves to disorient him further. Where was he? Erik sits up, pressing a hand to his eyes as he tries to think. He had been in Poland. Somewhere remote, an abandoned house in the woods somewhere (not his house, he had already gone there and left again) on his road east, and… information rises out his whirling thoughts. A ship. This was that spaceship. He could feel it now, extending out through his senses. But that had been years ago. This wasn’t right. Something was terribly wrong.
He pulls his hand away from his face and stares at it, jaw tight. On his pointer finger was a slightly irregular silver ring. On his ring finger was his wedding band.
He remembers that his heart is broken. He remembers why he went back to Poland to begin with, why this is the wrong place. He remembers.
Something shakes apart inside him, and the Heron does the same.]
[Days ago, the two mutants on the Heron fell asleep and didn’t wake up. A few days later, their appearance started to change, Erik’s hair growing scruffier and the odd few silver threads starting to creep in, while Charles’s simply disappeared altogether. Anyone paying attention would notice they had grown noticeably older in just a few days. Now, it seems like they’re waking up. And Erik’s return to consciousness stands to shake everyone else to attention whether they like it or not.
It starts as a vibration, humming through the metal surfaces of the ship. It increases rapidly, getting noisier and more violent, until everything is rattling. Loose metal items begin to lift off from wherever they lie, floating jerkily into the air. Those closer to the walls around the edges of the ship will find less of a disturbance, though the floor still does its best to mimic an earthquake.
And then, just as abruptly, it stops. Most of it. Those vibrations are still shivering through everything, screws and spoons spinning drunkenly on the floor. Strange... should anyone investigate that closed bedroom, the culprit is easy to find.]
no subject
She watches his expression, reads it, considers it. She doesn't know Erik nearly as well as she knows Winter and Charles, but he's still important to her. And she's dealt with enough people who say things like that (Winter, Tenno, Charles, Maine, Delta, Whiskey, Maine again...) that she's got a grasp on the kind of internal process behind words like that.
Hell, she's said things like that herself, if she's being brutally honest internally.]
Yeah, you will. You're tough as hell. But that doesn't change that there are people who care about you, and are gonna do their best to look out for you. [She offers him a wry little quirk of her lips.] You can't force people to stop loving you just because you don't love you right now.
no subject
As for loving himself... he never has. Sometimes he got closer to it. Right now it's much too far away.
He replies calmly.]
I'm aware. I've got some entirely too persistent people here with me already.
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Do you still make pizza after ten years?
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She reaches into one of the pockets of her jumpsuit and offers Erik a soft little package wrapped in plain gray paper. (Inside: one knitted hat, bright magenta, with #1 Baker picked out on it in black.)]
I'm glad you're back.
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Erik blinks a few times, rapidly, before he gets himself under control. The slight shake in his voice still gives him away.] I'm... glad to see you too.
wrap?
sure!