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maskormenacelogs2016-06-01 05:57 pm
incogneto) wrote in maskormenacelogs2016-06-01 05:57 pm
Entry tags:
świat jest spokojny // will definitely contain spoilers for apocalypse
WHO: Erik + YOU
WHERE: Various
WHEN: 6/2
WHAT: Catch-all after his canon update
WARNINGS: I'll put spoiler warnings for Apocalypse in the subject header but watch where you scroll!! And please let me know in your tag-in whether spoilers are ok or nah.
[ There is no prompt between 9-12 because he went to visit Wanda and Billy ]
1. Nonah, sometime at night while Charles is out// Closed to Charles Xavier
If anyone were to have come by this nondescript and anonymously modest house in Nonah tonight, they would have seen a wide array of construction in the backyard, creating the bones of an addition out back. His name's Magneto though, and not Drypainto, so he's elected to take a break on the inside of the original part of the house, in his favorite chair reading a book as he plays a waiting game. Casually, he picks up a knife to peel an apple and cut himself a wedge, taking a bite and turning the page.
2. De Chima or Nonah, 6 AM
Back to his regularly-scheduled life, he's out for a morning jog by the park. It's a beautiful June morning, sun barely awake, and there's a lot on Erik's mind. But, as he's experienced Porter hiccups before, he finds that it's better not to stress it and, ironically it makes him make time for himself. Following alongside him is Rochester, his pup with custom metal prosthetics on each leg, who still stumbles on his awkward gait, who missed Erik for a lot longer than the day he's been gone.
He stops at a water fountain to get a drink, and his puppy might excitedly wander towards you; after all, with four metal legs, Erik's never found a reason to need a leash.
3. De Chima, 8 AM
Funny enough, being an imPort means he doesn't really need to explain some of his absences from work. He shows up to the garage thankful that they all know his situation, that most of them clap him on the back or jokingly give him a hard time about the disappearance, and he's even thankful for the cup of sludge they call coffee. God, he kind of loves this garage. And, of course, he's got donuts for the lot of them. He's even offering some to the customers.
4. Anywhere, 1 PM
On his lunch break in the summers, he enjoys nothing more than sitting outside of a small restaurant in downtown, sandwich and salad and tall frothy beer, watching as the people go about their day. He feels altogether nostalgic, his first full day back, and despite himself finds it... relaxing almost, whenever he sees a familiar face. They haven't changed, not one bit. It's like walking through a time capsule. He might be lost in thought, or he might be giving you a small look of recognition, or he might be catching that cup that just got knocked off the table...
WHERE: Various
WHEN: 6/2
WHAT: Catch-all after his canon update
WARNINGS: I'll put spoiler warnings for Apocalypse in the subject header but watch where you scroll!! And please let me know in your tag-in whether spoilers are ok or nah.
[ There is no prompt between 9-12 because he went to visit Wanda and Billy ]
1. Nonah, sometime at night while Charles is out// Closed to Charles Xavier
If anyone were to have come by this nondescript and anonymously modest house in Nonah tonight, they would have seen a wide array of construction in the backyard, creating the bones of an addition out back. His name's Magneto though, and not Drypainto, so he's elected to take a break on the inside of the original part of the house, in his favorite chair reading a book as he plays a waiting game. Casually, he picks up a knife to peel an apple and cut himself a wedge, taking a bite and turning the page.
2. De Chima or Nonah, 6 AM
Back to his regularly-scheduled life, he's out for a morning jog by the park. It's a beautiful June morning, sun barely awake, and there's a lot on Erik's mind. But, as he's experienced Porter hiccups before, he finds that it's better not to stress it and, ironically it makes him make time for himself. Following alongside him is Rochester, his pup with custom metal prosthetics on each leg, who still stumbles on his awkward gait, who missed Erik for a lot longer than the day he's been gone.
He stops at a water fountain to get a drink, and his puppy might excitedly wander towards you; after all, with four metal legs, Erik's never found a reason to need a leash.
3. De Chima, 8 AM
Funny enough, being an imPort means he doesn't really need to explain some of his absences from work. He shows up to the garage thankful that they all know his situation, that most of them clap him on the back or jokingly give him a hard time about the disappearance, and he's even thankful for the cup of sludge they call coffee. God, he kind of loves this garage. And, of course, he's got donuts for the lot of them. He's even offering some to the customers.
4. Anywhere, 1 PM
On his lunch break in the summers, he enjoys nothing more than sitting outside of a small restaurant in downtown, sandwich and salad and tall frothy beer, watching as the people go about their day. He feels altogether nostalgic, his first full day back, and despite himself finds it... relaxing almost, whenever he sees a familiar face. They haven't changed, not one bit. It's like walking through a time capsule. He might be lost in thought, or he might be giving you a small look of recognition, or he might be catching that cup that just got knocked off the table...
no subject
He turns his face into the crook of Charles's neck and closes his eyes for a moment, just letting himself linger, trying to let the dust of his storm of thoughts settle down, tries to rechannel his focus. Charles is trying his best and Erik is grateful for it; it's enough. He can't raise the dead, and neither can Billy nor Wanda nor Sabriel. It's best to let them lie in rest, off towards where he assumes Edie is waiting for them in the afterlife with open arms. He hopes they have found each other. He hopes they are there with all the people they've lost throughout the years, a practical laundry list he shouted at Charles ten years ago. He hopes, wherever they are, they're far away from the hands of Shaw, of En Sabah Nur. He hopes they remain how they are in his memory.
Eventually, the tears stop. The shaking stops. He's exhausted himself, wholly and completely, and he thinks he might be alright with falling asleep right here. But first, he smiles, softly and gratefully, against Charles's shoulder. "Thank you," he murmurs.
no subject
Some day when the memories could overcome the weight of grief and their warmth could sooth them both. Not now, when Erik was still too raw and needed to cling to the hope that his wife and daughter were with his mother, somewhere in some way. Charles didn't necessarily share his friend's faith, he was much too scientifically minded but he made no effort to dissuade Erik's hopes.
He continued to brush his hands over broad shoulders, card his fingers through short auburn hair and said nothing about the wash of warm breath over the sensitive skin behind his ear. He simply gave Erik all the time he needed until the shaking slowly stopped and he could feel the other man gather and settle himself.
"Anytime," he said softly, the word weighted with the sincerity of his offer. If Erik woke in the middle of the night and needed anything from Charles, even just a quiet presence to sit up with him and pass the hours in silence, he would be there for his friend.
no subject
But every time it heals, it heals a little more. And every time it hurts, it hurts a little bit less.
He stays there, like that, as the ambient silence washes over them, until there's just the light buzz of machinery or appliances in the background, the sound of being safely inside on a suburban street. But he hadn't realized how tightly he was clinging onto Charles's shirt and he lets go just the slightest, letting the fabric uncrumple from his iron grip, backing away slightly then and retrieving a handkerchief to dab his eyes and blow his nose.
"You must be tired," he says, though really in typical Erik fashion he means I am really tired.
no subject
"It has been a long day," he admitted. "A long couple of days."
Truthfully, between working himself straight through during the period when Erik was gone and the day today, Charles was genuinely tired. Though he expected to spend part of his night awake and watchful over Erik's sleep.
Nice thing about telepathy, he could be a mother hen from a distance.
"Would you like a cup of tea or something to ..." to help you transition from the memories of grief to the here and now. Unfortunately, Charles did not keep alcohol in his little house.
no subject
"Tea is fine, thank you." He thought he could-- do this, move on, be a survivor. He's always been that, the unkillable, the cockroach. Leaving behind a mass of bodies in his wake, from anguish, from hurt. Each soul he loses he takes another two, another three. What's more? Why should he suffer alone? Why should he suffer at all?
He leans back against his chair, eyes puffy and red, mind pounding against the front of his skull. There's denial, there's anger, there's resignation, and he keeps circling around as if in a drain. But now he's just. Tired.
He wants to be okay again, but he also wants to keep a part of that pain forever, because it's like keeping a part of them alive forever. He wants to share them with Charles for that reason. But also, he would've loved them. Loved his human wife, so kind and so accepting, unafraid of him even though she had every reason and right to be. The kind of human Charles thinks every human is, the kind that Erik thought could never truly exist, and yet, she'd loved him. And little Nina, who was sharp as a whip and loved all lives like her mother had, like Charles does. If he wouldn't have blown his cover, he'd thought, maybe he should've liked to send her off to his school, to see all the others just like her. Maybe, to impart on them the kind of appreciation and acceptance she had of her own powers, the way her parents had raised her.
He gets up, and follows Charles to the kitchen. He doesn't want to be alone, not even just in one room. Casually, he leans against the counter. "How's your work coming?"
no subject
Same as the act of speaking to something that had no bearing on the experiences Erik had just gone through. It was small talk, at a ridiculous hour of the night/morning but perhaps a little small talk was just what they needed. To go along with their unnecessary tea.
"Well," Charles said, looking over with a tired smile as he set the kettle on and then rolled a neat turn to go after the mugs. "I've been working on written correspondences with some of the United States' key allies, discussing our foundation and ideas with them. There has been some chill but also some genuine interest."
The chill just meant he had to work harder right!
"Also I've been working on publishing some research that will lead to developments Tony can use for products he can actually sell. Figured I owed him a couple pieces to help put back the amount of his money I've been spending."
no subject
He still sees that Charles Xavier, even though initially there was a bit of a shock. How could this be the same Charles Xavier as before? And yet, here in his kitchen making tea and talking about his efforts to change the world, it seems like nothing's changed at all.
"I'm sure he doesn't begrudge you the money any more than you did us," he says, and honestly if Charles's pockets had been deeper, Tony's pockets at least replenish themselves every once in awhile. He can't imagine there's a tuition on Xavier's School, even if just to cover room and board and faculty. Though, he supposes, it must be weird for Charles to be on that side of a transaction, being a recipient of money, or really, of aid. It doesn't go unnoticed how well he's finally acclimating to it.
no subject
Had he been home that weight would have come out of the Xavier coffers, which were replenishing as well thank you. But he didn't have those here and so the next best thing was to offer his other asset. His genius.
Besides, there was a part of Charles that still enjoyed the challenge of innovation. Back home he channeled it into, observing and learning to understand mutations in all their forms. Teaching other mutants how to live with their powers so those powers became a gift, not a curse. Here he didn't have that outlet and so, in typical Charles Xavier fashion, he made his own.
no subject
Okay, he might need more than one. But the offer's on the table when it's not incredibly late. He lifts the tray of tea anyway, just settling it down on the kitchen table, figuring they could just stay here awhile until they decide it's time to actually retire for the night. It's extremely pleasant. Being able to just... talk, like they used to. Enjoy each other's company. Put aside their active worries.
no subject
"A translator and I dare say a proof reader," he said with a nod, accepting Erik's offer. "I may not always agree with you're sentiment my friend, but you are a powerful orator."
This last bit was offered with a hint of mischief in tired, blue eyes.
no subject
But, he thinks, the X-Men is sort of Charles's way of saying to Erik that he might be a little right, too.
So maybe it's for the better they both contribute to these efforts. After all, most people are more or less getting attuned to this sort of status of being powered, feared and admired on opposite sides of the same coin. And he and Charles, they're sort of old hats at this by now, aren't they? They should try to impart some of their. Uh. Experience. In a constructive way.
pretend that's tea
Someone was definitely being a brat now. Blame it on exhaustion and a bit of giddiness at the fact that Erik hadn't gone home for good, combined with his friend's choice to come and share his home.
Charles truly did not like living on his own.
no subject
It's seemed to wake him up a little, and honestly it's early for him, but the time of night is giving his body major mixed signals, and he's not quite as young as he used to be, used to this jetlag. But, he does have that relief, of reaching his destination, of being able to settle down with very few things on his agenda. He thinks he may even make an indulgent American breakfast tomorrow morning.
"More tea?"
no subject
It was a relief to have his friend back in this crazy world and beyond that Charles felt a sense of peace settling over him at the simple pleasure that was the sound of another person. For a man who often isolated himself in so many ways, Charles truly was happiest when he had people he trusted near by, sharing his space. The truth was, he felt another wave of relief, against a tension he hadn't realized he was harboring, that Erik was moving in.
Making additions to the house and everything!
The other man's voice shook Charles out of his contemplation and he looked up and over towards Erik, before then glancing at his mug.
"Actually, I believe I'll pass and instead suggest that we could both probably use a little sleep, hmm? "
no subject
"Alright." The thing is, Erik won't be gone tomorrow. Even though he could easily rip apart his additions, walk to another city, pitch a tent, or just disappear-- he's trying, to leave a lasting impression. Leave something to symbolize to Charles that this time, he can go to sleep and wake up and Erik will be there.
His bed's just a frame right now, so he'll have to crash on the couch for a night or two as he sets up. He doesn't mind, and when he's done he smiles and wishes Charles a good night before going to set up.
Which is actually just kicking off his shoes and making himself comfortable.