[Charles watches him go, and part of him feels like he should go too, that he should go run to Raven and Moira or check on Sean, who's been limping a little and leaning heavily on Alex and Hank.
But the minds of the men on the ships are still buzzing in his skull, and he can't quite shut them out. They're afraid, confused, some of them are angry and some are beyond grateful that they've been saved, because they thought the men/monsters on the beach were going to attack them next, but they're still alive, and it's distracting.
He still comes over to try and help, to present a united front, but they're wary, not quite sure they trust these people and Charles knows Moira and the kids don't quite trust them, either. It's complicated, and he wants to take the time to persuade them properly - especially Angel, because he can remember the conversation he'd had with a version of her and how she'd realized she'd made a mistake allying herself with Shaw - but they don't have time. There's a fleet of ships out there still watching the beach, wondering what to do next, and they can't have opportunity to find a solution to this "problem".
They still have other weapons, and no one else needs to die here today.]
Erik, [And he could just tell him telepathically, but this feels like something the others need to hear, too.] We'll have more time to talk if I care of the navies.
[Watch his back while he does it goes unsaid, although he sends more of an explanation to Moira at least, wanting her to understand, even if she might not agree with him.
Fortunately, it seems like she does, or at least she trusts him to do the right thing, and it's with that confirmation that he turns back to the thousands of minds he's been brushing against since he wound up back on this beach.
It's not difficult to construct the false memories - he knows what was "supposed" to have happen, and it's with minimal tweaking that he "corrects" the timeline. It's not perfect, there are gaps, there are other people he'll need to contact to prefect it, but this is good enough to buy them safe passage home, and the Admiral should hopefully fill in the rest.
So it's not the memories that are difficult to erase and plant, but the distance and the volume of minds he needs to hold still and change, without hurting them or taking away anything that shouldn't be altered. He closes his eyes, keeps his fingers to his temple and tries to stay calm and focused, knowing he can do this but trying not to crumple under the weight of it all.
Forget. Forget that we were here. Remember this as a near miss, nothing more.
He doesn't know how much time has passed, and his mind feels stretched out and strained by the end of it, but when he finally breaks free, he knows it worked. The exhaustion hits him like a freight train, his vision swims and he sways a little where he's standing. His voice sounds strained in his ears when he remembers how to talk, but he did it. They're safe from any retaliation.] It's finished. They won't realize we're here. Or remember that we were in the first place.
no subject
But the minds of the men on the ships are still buzzing in his skull, and he can't quite shut them out. They're afraid, confused, some of them are angry and some are beyond grateful that they've been saved, because they thought the men/monsters on the beach were going to attack them next, but they're still alive, and it's distracting.
He still comes over to try and help, to present a united front, but they're wary, not quite sure they trust these people and Charles knows Moira and the kids don't quite trust them, either. It's complicated, and he wants to take the time to persuade them properly - especially Angel, because he can remember the conversation he'd had with a version of her and how she'd realized she'd made a mistake allying herself with Shaw - but they don't have time. There's a fleet of ships out there still watching the beach, wondering what to do next, and they can't have opportunity to find a solution to this "problem".
They still have other weapons, and no one else needs to die here today.]
Erik, [And he could just tell him telepathically, but this feels like something the others need to hear, too.] We'll have more time to talk if I care of the navies.
[Watch his back while he does it goes unsaid, although he sends more of an explanation to Moira at least, wanting her to understand, even if she might not agree with him.
Fortunately, it seems like she does, or at least she trusts him to do the right thing, and it's with that confirmation that he turns back to the thousands of minds he's been brushing against since he wound up back on this beach.
It's not difficult to construct the false memories - he knows what was "supposed" to have happen, and it's with minimal tweaking that he "corrects" the timeline. It's not perfect, there are gaps, there are other people he'll need to contact to prefect it, but this is good enough to buy them safe passage home, and the Admiral should hopefully fill in the rest.
So it's not the memories that are difficult to erase and plant, but the distance and the volume of minds he needs to hold still and change, without hurting them or taking away anything that shouldn't be altered. He closes his eyes, keeps his fingers to his temple and tries to stay calm and focused, knowing he can do this but trying not to crumple under the weight of it all.
Forget. Forget that we were here. Remember this as a near miss, nothing more.
He doesn't know how much time has passed, and his mind feels stretched out and strained by the end of it, but when he finally breaks free, he knows it worked. The exhaustion hits him like a freight train, his vision swims and he sways a little where he's standing. His voice sounds strained in his ears when he remembers how to talk, but he did it. They're safe from any retaliation.] It's finished. They won't realize we're here. Or remember that we were in the first place.