raven "daba dee daba die" darkholme. (
athru) wrote in
driftfleet2016-09-03 11:20 am
Entry tags:
though it hurts to breathe
Who: Raven, Hank, Charles and Erik
Broadcast: No
Action: On the Heron
When: Now onwards!
[ It had taken her a little while to calm down with Hank at her side, long enough that she's practically itching to make her way over to the Heron as soon as she can, device in her hand - the temptation to text ahead, to make sure they're really there, that they're okay, is almost a little too daunting and there's not much Raven can do other than force herself to stop. She's stronger than this, true, but coming out of the other side of something as horrendous as Apocalypse and standing tall, waking up on the Fleet, trying to figure out if she can handle it all again - it's too much.
The only thoughts in her mind are that she needs to find Charles, she needs to find Erik, and she needs to make sure they're alive, that they're safe, that they're here. This is going to be impossibly difficult for all four of them, Hank at her side, but they could work through it. They beat an all powerful mutant 'God', they came together as a family and they worked, hard, to make sure they all came out alive the other side.
What was the Fleet after all that?
It doesn't take her long to break away from Hank into a practical run as she reaches the Heron, a flash as she makes her way down the hall to find the other two mutants. Erik is important in her mind, of course, but her first instinct is to call out for Charles, standing outside the door and pressing her fingers against it, afraid for a moment that he won't answer, that he won't be there. The fear grips her, and her hands shake, but she does it anyway, knocking and calling for her brother.
After that, later... Well, she has to take time to calm down. Once she's sure Charles is safe, that Erik is safe, she can actually move to relax herself, the weight on her shoulders fading away. It takes time, but it happens, slowly... But she doesn't leave. She doesn't feel like she can leave either of them, and she wonders how they're going to handle that. ]
Broadcast: No
Action: On the Heron
When: Now onwards!
[ It had taken her a little while to calm down with Hank at her side, long enough that she's practically itching to make her way over to the Heron as soon as she can, device in her hand - the temptation to text ahead, to make sure they're really there, that they're okay, is almost a little too daunting and there's not much Raven can do other than force herself to stop. She's stronger than this, true, but coming out of the other side of something as horrendous as Apocalypse and standing tall, waking up on the Fleet, trying to figure out if she can handle it all again - it's too much.
The only thoughts in her mind are that she needs to find Charles, she needs to find Erik, and she needs to make sure they're alive, that they're safe, that they're here. This is going to be impossibly difficult for all four of them, Hank at her side, but they could work through it. They beat an all powerful mutant 'God', they came together as a family and they worked, hard, to make sure they all came out alive the other side.
What was the Fleet after all that?
It doesn't take her long to break away from Hank into a practical run as she reaches the Heron, a flash as she makes her way down the hall to find the other two mutants. Erik is important in her mind, of course, but her first instinct is to call out for Charles, standing outside the door and pressing her fingers against it, afraid for a moment that he won't answer, that he won't be there. The fear grips her, and her hands shake, but she does it anyway, knocking and calling for her brother.
After that, later... Well, she has to take time to calm down. Once she's sure Charles is safe, that Erik is safe, she can actually move to relax herself, the weight on her shoulders fading away. It takes time, but it happens, slowly... But she doesn't leave. She doesn't feel like she can leave either of them, and she wonders how they're going to handle that. ]

[ later . . . ]
( and he was scared to look deeper, to see traces of the man who had towered over him and ruined him in the one place Charles had felt powerful. )
His hand shakes, spilling some of the tea he had just made and Charles curses lightly under his breath. He had to be more than this. He was more than this. Logan would have been pleased. Charles kept his promise, had set his students on the right path (the path that held more violence, but Charles can't protect anyone, much less himself. He had to let go of that instinct to control) and his ghosts had been laid to rest.
Charles sips his tea quietly, reveling in the silence of the ship. . . . Or what was silence. Echoes of a sudden pain lace through his skull and he sets his mug down in shock, trying to block it out. ]
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The cup shakes and he puts it down once more. ]
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He wasn't paying much attention, tired and ragged around the edges as he is, to the telltale signs of Charles's hoverchair occupying the kitchen. So he's minorly surprised to see the man sitting there when he arrives.
There's a pause, before he huffs lightly.]
You had the same idea, I see.
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His cup remains untouched. He can wait until Erik leaves or do it slowly. ]
I hear great minds think alike.
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Some of the cleaning machines are still looping in circles. I might need to take a look at them. Sometime.
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I'm sure it'll be a quick fix either way.
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No. It's not really important.
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Ultimately it's just another day, moving forward, whether he's ready or not.]
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I felt something earlier.
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What do you mean?
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I felt your pain. Did something happen?
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He looks back to Charles, wondering if he would have preferred more space from Erik than this small ship allows.]
No. I just remembered something.
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Peter. [At least his voice didn't crack.]
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[ That would be all the confirmation they needed. He looks down at his glass. Peter chose to remain at the school and he hadn't shared much with Charles over his reasons. Of course, now, knowing more about the other universes had shed a lot of light on why Peter had come to Cairo.
His fingers rub the mug. Erik's family always felt like a landmine, one Charles had no way of navigating. Their existence . . . their demise . . . the way it crops up in other universes, other places. He's a little envious of the pattern, but not so that he's not happy for Erik.
So he says. ]
He's a credit to his father then. I think he was satisfied, knowing you changed your mind.
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Fathers raise their children. I'm no father to him. [Crediting Erik with anything like that felt wrong. He had no part in Peter's life. He's not sure he should, or if he even wants to. It would be safer for Peter to be far away from him. Otherwise, he'd end up like every other blood family he'd ever had.
("Is someone going to take you away?" "No. Never.")
This is rocky terrain, one he knows they crossed in the Fleet long ago. He doesn't meet Charles's eyes, knowing there's bound to be more there than the other man wants seen.]
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[ And the fact that Peter came all the way to Cairo stands for itself. Whatever complicated feelings that lay in between, Peter chose that. ]
I'll look after him. It seems he took my advice all those years ago.
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This was a mistake. Explaining himself any further was just going to hurt. So he says nothing, sipping his tea.]
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All I meant was that he might see it differently.
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And he can't have that. Not yet. ]
No. Though I'm sure we have some food from the planet below.
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We've been asleep for a while, so we likely need it.
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