[Well. He supposes he can deal with that. A friend who actually knows him, truly knows him - that is a first for Erik, so he follows eagerly, taking a seat across from Charles. Although now with the telling laid out in front of him, he hesitates, scratching at his eyebrow.]

I suppose you could simply read my mind for this, but I was born in Germany. Nuremberg, actually. May family...[He trails off, because they didn't all get out, despite his urging.] I escaped to Poland, when things grew ugly there, and from there to America. I always thought...something must be wrong with me. No one else can do what I can. For the longest time, I didn't know if it was a gift, or a curse.