Erik Lensherr | ( Magneto ) (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
wecanavenge) wrote2014-01-15 07:22 pm
wecanavenge) wrote2014-01-15 07:22 pm
Entry tags:
- & flowers in your hair,
- alex maybe doesn't hate me i hope?,
- alles ist gut,
- and dismiss your fears,
- and love will not break your heart,
- and now i cling to what i knew,
- get over your hill and see,
- i needed more than mumford & sons lyrics,
- not you jean you stay in your room,
- ohana means family,
- saw exactly what was true,
- there will come a time you'll see,
- to fewer mistakes with anya (yeah right),
- what you find there,
- with grace in your heart,
- with no more tears
✘ | 027 | VIDEO
[It's been two weeks since Raven left, a week since the network glitch, and Erik has done a lot of thinking. He never expected to confront another version of himself, despite hearing about him plenty. He wouldn't call it enlightening, but interesting - yes. Very interesting. Between him, and another Raven, another Moira - he's been very thoughtful as of late.
The video comes on, and Erik looks directly into the camera, though it's clear he's not quite seeing it. His gaze is moving inward.]
I've been thinking about the other Barge.
[He's steadfastly refused to talk about it, for the most part. About the man he was there, about what he did. About the people he tried to save. His gaze grows more unfocused, and he can remember the light, the pain and the comfort of it. Pain has always been a part of this life: it is fitting that it was a part of the end of that one.
If that even was an end.]
I've died here. Just once. [He doesn't rub his chest, but the muscles in his arm twitch and flex as a phantom ache rises.] I don't know if I died there. I didn't care. [His gaze sharpens again, his mouth twisting into a rueful smile.] I was more concerned with saving you all.
[And destroying the Barge. That had been just as strong a need as removing everyone back to their homes. He can still remember how the Barge trembled under his power. He can't do that, here, despite his mutation functioning as normal. The Admiral is too powerful for that here.] I don't know if I managed it. I doubt it, to be honest. If the Admiral ever really died, I don't doubt that he'd just come back, like a phoenix from his own ashes. [It would be poetic, if it weren't a touch bitter.]
I do remember some of it. I remember the pain, and the way I welcomed it. I remember becoming more.
[Becoming powerful. Untouchable. Enduring. Becoming nothing. Erik looks away, thumbs over the pages of a book out of sight. He doesn't know where he's going, but he can't quite stop.] I was so angry. I wanted to crush the ship between my hands. [He lifts those hands, fingers curling inward, palms angled toward each other, before they clench into fists so hard they tremble. He has long been capable of such anger, but there...
They unclench slowly, drop back to the desk in front of him.]
And then I didn't. And then - then, I--
[He stops, looking away sharply, and without another word, kills the feed.]
[Spam for Charles]
[And then he accepted it. The anger, the pain, the loss, he had accepted it there, accepted that despite his instinct for rage, there were other, better things that needed doing.
Shoving his chair back almost hard enough to knock it over, Erik clenches his hands again, half afraid they're shaking. He's out of his room and shoving open Charles' door a moment later, and he has no idea what state he must look, but he can't imagine it being anything short of frazzled.]
I need to talk. [He needs to talk through this, now, before he tries to push it away again, before he tries to bury it. And he's afraid - afraid of this change, afraid of not changing, afraid of being here forever and accomplishing none of the things he's meant to. His chest is tight.] I need to talk now.
[Private to Alex]
I need to talk to you.
[And he knows they have a terrible history of it, knows one of them always takes something wrong, and he should do this in person, he knows, but maybe if he gets it all out now they won't wind up with shoes between their teeth or the desire to shove fists in their place.
He thought, at some point, that this would be easy if he ever managed to graduate. That he would know what to say, that the words would just be there because graduation must make this easier. It doesn't, of course. It almost makes this harder, because his chest and throat still feel tight.]
I know I've apologized. And I know you've forgiven me, though you had every reason not to. But I still owe you an apology, because I've never been able to say what's right. I don't know what's right now, but I know I need to apologize. For Cuba. For leaving you and Sean and Hank alone when you needed someone. For all of it.
[His throat is too tight, and he has to pause to clear it.]
I'm sorry. [For not being there. For not being the person he is now.]
[Private to Anya]
[Anya is difficult. Anya is so much more difficult. Because he loves her as if he'd raised her himself, this is, he thinks, the hardest goodbye he will have to make. Part of him considers staying, almost entirely for her. But that is selfish. And maybe leaving is selfish, but it's to do so much more. So he grabs his communicator and records, though he does occasionally glance off screen, at the wall he shares with her.]
Anya.
[He wonders if his tone says everything, if it says anything at all. Everything sounds strange to him just now.] I graduated. [Finally. She was right; it hadn't been far off at all.]
And I'm going to be leaving. But I want to talk to you first. [Need. The word he meant to use was need.]
[Private to Jean]
[He's going to run out of steam at this rate. He's not shocked anymore, though the surprise lingers. When he contacts Jean, he's so much closer to feeling at peace with more than he ever thought possible. It's calming, this quiet acceptance, and it's that he holds onto when he talks to her.]
You don't need someone to stop you.
[He still remembers that conversation, remembers the D'Bari, remembers the six billion people and the fire in her hair. He couldn't forget it if he tried.]
You're stronger than you give yourself credit for. [He should tell her why he's saying this, he knows, but the why is less important than the what.]
[Private to Rogue]
[He's pondered this for a little while, but feelings are exhausting. By the time he sends this message, all he has left is bluntness. He has a feeling she'll understand.]
I've graduated.
I hope you'll understand that I'm not staying.
[Private to Kelsier]
Your deal. [He's seen enough panicked wardens on board to know that Kelsier's Item must no longer be responding to him. No reason to beat around the bush.] Was it for your wife?
[Private to David]
I really hated you, when we first met. [There's a little smile in the corner of his mouth, tired but genuine.] I'm glad I didn't try to dissemble you.
[It's a poor joke, but he's really good at those.]
I'm going home. If you do leave - I suppose I should say when - you have a place with us. If you want it.
[Public]
[A few hours after his initial post, Erik comes back on the network. He's calm again, sharp. There's even a little smile in the corner of his mouth. A real, very satisfied one, with no trace of bitterness. Not now.]
I'll be leaving tomorrow.
[He reaches off screen, and pulls one smiley faced cookie into view, courtesy of the Admiral. Graduation stopped being out of reach months ago, but he never quite accepted that it was this close. He breaks off a piece of the cookie and pops it into his mouth.]
Look after yourselves.
[Alles ist Gut. He can think it without cringing, now.]
The video comes on, and Erik looks directly into the camera, though it's clear he's not quite seeing it. His gaze is moving inward.]
I've been thinking about the other Barge.
[He's steadfastly refused to talk about it, for the most part. About the man he was there, about what he did. About the people he tried to save. His gaze grows more unfocused, and he can remember the light, the pain and the comfort of it. Pain has always been a part of this life: it is fitting that it was a part of the end of that one.
If that even was an end.]
I've died here. Just once. [He doesn't rub his chest, but the muscles in his arm twitch and flex as a phantom ache rises.] I don't know if I died there. I didn't care. [His gaze sharpens again, his mouth twisting into a rueful smile.] I was more concerned with saving you all.
[And destroying the Barge. That had been just as strong a need as removing everyone back to their homes. He can still remember how the Barge trembled under his power. He can't do that, here, despite his mutation functioning as normal. The Admiral is too powerful for that here.] I don't know if I managed it. I doubt it, to be honest. If the Admiral ever really died, I don't doubt that he'd just come back, like a phoenix from his own ashes. [It would be poetic, if it weren't a touch bitter.]
I do remember some of it. I remember the pain, and the way I welcomed it. I remember becoming more.
[Becoming powerful. Untouchable. Enduring. Becoming nothing. Erik looks away, thumbs over the pages of a book out of sight. He doesn't know where he's going, but he can't quite stop.] I was so angry. I wanted to crush the ship between my hands. [He lifts those hands, fingers curling inward, palms angled toward each other, before they clench into fists so hard they tremble. He has long been capable of such anger, but there...
They unclench slowly, drop back to the desk in front of him.]
And then I didn't. And then - then, I--
[He stops, looking away sharply, and without another word, kills the feed.]
[Spam for Charles]
[And then he accepted it. The anger, the pain, the loss, he had accepted it there, accepted that despite his instinct for rage, there were other, better things that needed doing.
Shoving his chair back almost hard enough to knock it over, Erik clenches his hands again, half afraid they're shaking. He's out of his room and shoving open Charles' door a moment later, and he has no idea what state he must look, but he can't imagine it being anything short of frazzled.]
I need to talk. [He needs to talk through this, now, before he tries to push it away again, before he tries to bury it. And he's afraid - afraid of this change, afraid of not changing, afraid of being here forever and accomplishing none of the things he's meant to. His chest is tight.] I need to talk now.
[Private to Alex]
I need to talk to you.
[And he knows they have a terrible history of it, knows one of them always takes something wrong, and he should do this in person, he knows, but maybe if he gets it all out now they won't wind up with shoes between their teeth or the desire to shove fists in their place.
He thought, at some point, that this would be easy if he ever managed to graduate. That he would know what to say, that the words would just be there because graduation must make this easier. It doesn't, of course. It almost makes this harder, because his chest and throat still feel tight.]
I know I've apologized. And I know you've forgiven me, though you had every reason not to. But I still owe you an apology, because I've never been able to say what's right. I don't know what's right now, but I know I need to apologize. For Cuba. For leaving you and Sean and Hank alone when you needed someone. For all of it.
[His throat is too tight, and he has to pause to clear it.]
I'm sorry. [For not being there. For not being the person he is now.]
[Private to Anya]
[Anya is difficult. Anya is so much more difficult. Because he loves her as if he'd raised her himself, this is, he thinks, the hardest goodbye he will have to make. Part of him considers staying, almost entirely for her. But that is selfish. And maybe leaving is selfish, but it's to do so much more. So he grabs his communicator and records, though he does occasionally glance off screen, at the wall he shares with her.]
Anya.
[He wonders if his tone says everything, if it says anything at all. Everything sounds strange to him just now.] I graduated. [Finally. She was right; it hadn't been far off at all.]
And I'm going to be leaving. But I want to talk to you first. [Need. The word he meant to use was need.]
[Private to Jean]
[He's going to run out of steam at this rate. He's not shocked anymore, though the surprise lingers. When he contacts Jean, he's so much closer to feeling at peace with more than he ever thought possible. It's calming, this quiet acceptance, and it's that he holds onto when he talks to her.]
You don't need someone to stop you.
[He still remembers that conversation, remembers the D'Bari, remembers the six billion people and the fire in her hair. He couldn't forget it if he tried.]
You're stronger than you give yourself credit for. [He should tell her why he's saying this, he knows, but the why is less important than the what.]
[Private to Rogue]
[He's pondered this for a little while, but feelings are exhausting. By the time he sends this message, all he has left is bluntness. He has a feeling she'll understand.]
I've graduated.
I hope you'll understand that I'm not staying.
[Private to Kelsier]
Your deal. [He's seen enough panicked wardens on board to know that Kelsier's Item must no longer be responding to him. No reason to beat around the bush.] Was it for your wife?
[Private to David]
I really hated you, when we first met. [There's a little smile in the corner of his mouth, tired but genuine.] I'm glad I didn't try to dissemble you.
[It's a poor joke, but he's really good at those.]
I'm going home. If you do leave - I suppose I should say when - you have a place with us. If you want it.
[Public]
[A few hours after his initial post, Erik comes back on the network. He's calm again, sharp. There's even a little smile in the corner of his mouth. A real, very satisfied one, with no trace of bitterness. Not now.]
I'll be leaving tomorrow.
[He reaches off screen, and pulls one smiley faced cookie into view, courtesy of the Admiral. Graduation stopped being out of reach months ago, but he never quite accepted that it was this close. He breaks off a piece of the cookie and pops it into his mouth.]
Look after yourselves.
[Alles ist Gut. He can think it without cringing, now.]
private
[He's not sure which "they" he means, but he's curious, and confused, and having his own confluence of thoughts that haven't quite made that convergence yet.]
private
[He's not sure either, but in the end, he doesn't forgive Shaw, he doesn't forgive the Reich, he doesn't forgive the Vanquish.
Maybe he forgives Toshiko.]
What they did to me was monstrous. But I shouldn't have let them make me a monster.
private
[But he sounds a little distant, like he isn't talking about Erik. He's thinking, because he doesn't forgive Weyland or anyone else for the way they treated him, but is it ultimately worth the energy he'd been devoting to hating them, to pushing back against what they did in the only way he could? Was it all worth it?
Would he do it again, if it still meant putting someone he cared for in harm's way? He still doesn't know what happened to Shaw, to Elizabeth. Would he do it here to get back at the people who have in some way treated him badly?]
private
Better to defy them.
[Defy them, without defying yourself.]
private
[He isn't ever going to be a revolutionary. He can't: it just isn't something his programming would really allow, and he's comfortable with that. He's never been interested in intentionally changing himself to better suit the needs of others.
But he has changed.]
I believe I wasted most of my time before coming to the Barge.
private
I think we all managed to do that. Maybe it's part of why we're here.
private
[Probably.
But.]
I wouldn't do it again.
[And, amazingly, he actually means it. As frustrating as most people are, they don't deserve to die just because they're assholes.]
private
[That had all been the moment, for Erik. Realizing that he wouldn't do it the same as he'd done. He wonders if that will be the same for David.]
What would you do?
private
For all the people he can't stand, he wouldn't want to harm someone like Abigail, or Chris, or Leslie, or Erik, and there are certainly people like them in his world.
He glances off camera for a moment before looking back at Erik.] Excuse me.
[He rises, but leaves the feed on. It's a minute or three before he comes back, but when he does, he's holding a plate with cartoonishly decorated cookies on it and offers it to the camera.]
Do you want these?
private
Yes. Why not? It's a day for it, apparently.
[Though he doesn't really mean the cookies.]
private
A lot of it was done on his own, but he isn't arrogant enough (not anymore, anyway) to be unable to acknowledge the help he's received from people here, and he knows it isn't really a coincidence that he's graduated while talking to the only person on board who genuinely seems to understand his perspective.]
Thank you. While I'm not particularly fond of the term, or the general practice, you were the closest thing to a warden I've had since Aya was demoted.
private
You could have done better than me, [He says wryly, what with having been an inmate himself up until an hour ago.] All the same. It worked out. [And he's glad of it.]
private
[Very few others had been able to understand, had been willing to listen. Erik had, even though he'd had no reason to, had every reason to dismiss David and want nothing to do with him.
He knows he couldn't have done it without him.]
private
Then I'm happy I helped. [And he is. Because he never would have envisioned he would, in the beginning.]
private
Still, there's something else that needs to be acknowledged, because he really hadn't been expecting the offer.]
And thank you, for your offer. I would very much like to take you up on it, once I'm ready to leave the Barge.
private
Good. I expect the mansion will fill soon enough, but I'll see to it a room remains open for you.
private
[He means it, as much as he possibly can. Not that he's ever really had conscious desire for a home, but it's still good to know that he has one. That there's an after the Barge, rather than just staying here indefinitely.
He isn't exactly keen on the idea of what happens with the Admiral gets bored of you.]