✘ | 012 | VIDEO

[wecanavenge]

[The video clicks on, showing an uncertain eye and not much else, because the video is held much too close. The camera flips and jostles a few times, before it's held back enough to see a young boy. He looks much younger than he really is, rake thin in a very unhealthy way, but still more than skin and bones. He's pale, and he's scared. When he speaks, it's all in German; which, usefully, is the only language he knows.] H-hallo? [Tosh has already assured him that Herr Doktor is not around and there won't be any tests of any kind today but...he isn't entirely convinced and is more than a little nervous to direct more attention to himself. So he's hesitant, but tentatively giving into some curiosity?] Is this one of the SS buildings? [He pans the camera around the room quickly; partially visible, as he tries to gesture with his other hand, is the silver helmet he holds.] I have never been here before. [And he heads to a couch, looking uncomfortable, but...maybe a little pleased. This is more comfort than he's known in - well, ever. He manages a little smile, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes, and falters at the edges.] It's very nice. Thank you for letting me stay here. [His attention drops back to the helmet, now in his lap, and he holds it up for the camera after a moment - the look on his face says he probably shouldn't play with it and he's sorry, but he's drawn to it nonetheless.] Does this belong to someone? (OOC: And tags will come from einzweidrei because I'm a bad person. :c Blanket content warning, again, for possibly in depth discussion of the Holocaust.]

Comments

Spam - backdated to the start of the flood

[breakingmyheart]

[Due to her non-existent sleeping patterns, Tosh has already been up for a couple of hours when the shaking starts. It takes a few minutes to establish the effect of the flood, a few more to dig out a translator on a just-in-case basis -

- of all the floods she wants to have passed Erik over -

- and a few minutes more to reach his cabin. She taps on the door very, very lightly.]

...Erik?

Spam

[einzweidrei]

[Something about the room is familiar, and not in the way the cold lab or Herr Doktor's office is. He isn't sure if that's good or not, because he's never been here in his life. When the knock comes he spins toward the door, eying it with wide eyes. If he doesn't answer, they'll break down the door anyway, and he'll be in trouble.

He looks down at the strange helmet in his hands - he'd woken wearing it, and couldn't understand why, it was so uncomfortable - and screwed up his face at it. It was metal, he should be able to move it. He could turn it into a shield, or armor, he could protect himself.

But no matter how hard he concentrated, it didn't move. It didn't even tremble in his hands, and he gave up with a frustrated sound.

Herr Doktor had said anger and pain were the keys, and all he was was afraid.

Slowly, Erik inched toward the door, and pulled the door open, jumping back at the same time, just in case.]

Spam

[breakingmyheart]

[Just looking at him, seeing how drawn and thin he is, makes everything inside her twist and roil. But she doesn't let it show. She just smiles, gentle and careful.

She's been learning German, here and there - she could get by in Romania thanks to her time with Aleera - but she's anticipated the possibility of needing to communicate with more nuance than is possible from a beginner. To that end she has a Torchwood-scavenged translator plugged into her cerebral port, the actual object in her pocket and a wire running from her neck down to her jeans pocket, and the mental strain of using it while walking and talking is going to give her a tremendous migraine.]

Hallo, Erik. Mein Name ist Toshiko Sato. Ich werde mich nicht, dich zu verletzen.

[I'm not going to hurt you.]

[Spam] you never have a choice

[stripedpajamas]

[Charles had been playing with his own... plastic thing when Erik posts, and that is definitely another room in his house. No one ever really goes in there - there's about a hundred unused bedrooms and studies and God knows what else, it was really too big a house for just him and his mother and Raven - but he still recognizes it, which makes him curious, because it doesn't seem like anyone else is broadcasting video from the mansion.

So he reaches out to touch the other boy's mind, curious and wanting to understand what he's saying, at least, and discovers that he's right next door, which is strange because that room is definitely not next to the one he'd turned up in this morning and distracts him from going any deeper than he usually would for the time being.

Now determined to find out who this person was and why he was in his house but not at the same time, he heads out into the strange hallway, still in his pajamas, and knocks on the door.]

[Spam] NOT SPAM WAS NEVER AN OPTION

[einzweidrei]

He'd been playing with the helmet, setting it on the edge of the desk and trying to move it (because even if he isn't here, Erik knows what Herr Doktor would want him to do, he'd expect Erik to practice, and he really isn't certain this isn't an elaborate test of some kind.

So the second knock of the day startles him, and he drops the helmet. The American woman had assured him he was safe here, but he wasn't very certain of that, either. They'd thought they were safe in Poland, too. When he goes to the door this time, he hesitates a moment, and wipes his sweaty hands on his pants - no longer the prisoner's uniform he'd woken in, though they'd been dropped on the floor a few feet away. He wasn't certain what to do with them yet.

This time, when he opens the door, he doesn't leap away, expecting someone to come barging in. He peeks out, then opens the door wider when he sees another boy.] Hallo?

[Spam] B]

[stripedpajamas]

[Charles smiles, trying to be friendly, and it's practically like finding Raven in the kitchen again. He'd been alone almost his whole life, now, and suddenly finding other kids in his house was pretty much the greatest thing that had ever happened to him, in some ways.] Hello. [He can tell he's afraid, terrified, even, and he wants to let him know that it's okay, he doesn't have to be. He's very afraid of a man - a doctor? - and from what he can tell, he has every reason to be, but Charles isn't particularly concerned. He can make adults leave and forget why they'd even come upstairs in the first place, and he's got no reason to believe he won't be able to do the same thing to this person.

He offers the other boy his hand to shake and falls back on the admittedly not very extensive German his father had taught him back when the war had started.]

Ich heisse Charles Xavier. [And that is the extent of his German, unless you want him to count to five or tell you what a cat is.] What are you doing in my house?

[burnmythoughts]

[Jean recognises the helmet first.

She's figured out what's been happening, and she wondered, but - seeing him. It's...

She doesn't stare, despite the stunned ache in her chest. This isn't the time. Instead, she offers him a warm smile, and a wave. It's the most she can do - she can't understand what he's saying.]

[einzweidrei]

[He waves back, though without much confidence. He's starting to think maybe he shouldn't have sent this message at all, but he's trying to be brave. (Though a little voice says he should be angry, then he could protect himself.)]

Wer bist du? Sprechen Sie Deutsch?

[burnmythoughts]

[Jean can get the gist of that, at least. She presses a hand against her chest.]

Jean.

[And then she shakes her head.]

English.

[flawedgem]

[Barbara's concerned the moment she gets a proper look at the boy - he's so frail - and then he starts speaking, and her blood runs cold.

Oh God. What does she even say? How does she even -

She bites her lip, for a moment, before forging on ahead, voice soft.]

It's not, I promise. And it's safe, from what I can tell. [And it feels safe - or right, at least - but she's not sure how to say that.] But we should still be careful.

[stripedpajamas]

[Hi Babs, guess who invited himself over and has made himself at home. And you are getting some not very good German back at you, because it's easy to learn when you can just borrow information from your new best friend.] Who are you?

[flawedgem]

[Her eyes widen, a bit, but then she smiles faintly. If he has a friend - that's good.] I'm Barbara. Who are you?

video

[trenchcoatedly]

[Castiel's German is flawless but odd in the sense that it seems like he has no accent.]

No, this is an extra-dimensional boat.

That's a nice helmet.

video

[einzweidrei]

[It sounds strange, but he can understand it, so he doesn't question it.]

A what?

video/private;

[aggravating]

[Okay, this? This is something Tony had been kind of fearing since he started realizing there were a ton of kids running around the ship. But as soon as he hears that voice - not as scared as it is in his memory, seared in through a telepathic touch - it has him looking up, pushing his chair across the room to pick up his communicator, to peer down at the image on the screen and...

Yeah. It's Erik. Speaking German, a language he's been lazily researching and reading up on since that info dump Charles had done. His accent is bad, but he knows the words well enough.]

You're outside of the Schutzstaffel's reach right now, don't worry kid. And yeah, the helmet? Yours. Same with the room, I think.

You run into an annoying British kid yet?

[God. Why is he being nice to you?]

video/private;

[einzweidrei]

[Because you found your teeny tiny heart, Tony. Erik looks a little surprised, but he nods, and turns the camera toward Charles.]

He isn't annoying. [Do not diss his new best friend.] Who are you?

[truth_is_cold]

[Oh god, tinies everywhere.

Some sadder than others. He angles his communicator to show his boneblades.]

Is there anything in particular you would like to eat?

[stripedpajamas]

[Charles switches back to English, because speaking in terrible, recently learned German takes effort and he can still translate for Erik anyway.]

We've already had food. What's that on your arms?

Oh God, this is going to be awful

[scentbombed]

[Delphine has been mostly ignoring the communicator, but at the sound of such a familiar language -- it's not quite Uberwaldian, but it's close enough that she understands -- she brightens. When she answers, it's similarly in a tongue that isn't quite German, but sounds eerily similar.]

Oh, good morning, something something! What building an SS?

sob yes it is

[einzweidrei]

[It's close enough that he can mostly understand, but it still unnerves him, just a little, and he peers uncertainly into the camera.]

What? What's your name?

[ourlowrats]

[ A small boy was watching the video feed but sadly he only knows English and Gaelic outside of chruch a bit of Latin.]

'Ello...? [ He tries awkwardly anyway, he's got quite the heavy brogue. Language barriers suck.]

[einzweidrei]

[They totally do, but that's what new psychic friends are for, amirite.]

Hallo? Wie ist Ihr Name?

let's pretend this is before charles got there to save myself a headache B(

[secretasshole]

[Well David is mO___Oming a little bit, because, well. He never had a childhood. He'll never age, he'll never die, and while he doesn't wish he had the experience - even if he did robots can't wish anyway - but it's still interesting, to see a smaller, dark haired version of himself.

He clicks on the video feed and responds in flawless German.]

It belongs to you. Has anyone brought you something to eat, yet?

aye aye boss 8]

[einzweidrei]

[Sup dude this is strange you look awfully familiar and Erik is not sure what to make of this 8(]

Toshiko found me food. Who are you?

[sappling]

SS Building? [She bites her lip, looking worried.] I don't think so.