wecanavenge | ✘ | 012

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✘ | 012 | VIDEO

[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.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[And Erik follows with a little stumble, but he's quick to get his feet under him again.] Um--

[He looks down the hall, eying the elevator. Tosh took him up the stairs, and now that he's looking at the elevator, he sees why.] The stairs.

Alright. [And just like that, Charles is heading towards the stairs, glancing back at Erik even though he knows he's still following.] What's the rest of the ship like?

[There's some excitement, then, and his face brightens a little. He takes the lead, pulling Charles along with him, hitting the stairs and taking them as quickly as he could manage.]

There's a deck at the top, and stars, but not like at ho me - you have to see it--

[And he realized Charles didn't have to wait till they got there, so he just thought the deck at his new friend, picturing it, and remembering how startled and awed he'd been.]

[Charles lets Erik pull him along, gasping with surprise at the images, because holy cow, has he mentioned he loves science? Because he does, and that is pretty much the most amazing thing he's ever seen, even if he hasn't actually seen it yet.]

How can we breathe? I thought there wasn't air in space. [But he doesn't sound disbelieving so much as just surprised and excited, and he hurries along after his friend.]

I don't know, [and he's panting now because seriously he is not in great condition for running up stairs and weren't they going to find food?] But we can. It's amazing.

[Right, right, he was getting ahead of himself. The deck was still going to be there in a few minutes, it wasn't like it was going anywhere. He ground to a halt, looking at his friend in concern.] Erik, stop.

Food first. We're not far. [He carefully offered the way there up to the other boy, not forcing it into his mind, letting him decide to take it and lead the way or not.]

[He was winded, but he stopped - though he did glance a little forlornly up the stairs. But his stomach clenched painfully, and maybe that was a good idea. So he nodded, only a little reluctantly, and changed course to head for the mess hall instead.]

We'll go up after.

Right. It's not like it's going anywhere. [And Charles wasn't oblivious enough to insist on going up there first, right now, and he kept hold of Erik's hand as they headed towards the mess hall.]

[Erik supposed it was good enough, and he really was hungry. He held onto Charles hand and followed to the mess hall, uncertainty changing o curiosity.]

What sort of food do you think they have?

I don't know. Probably a lot of it, if there's so many people living here. [Which... actually would probably mean nothing to Erik considering it seemed like there were a lot of people living in the camps, too, and they were still starving, but this place wasn't like that. He might not be entirely sure what it was, but he knew it wasn't like the camps.

He pulled the door open and headed inside, curious, and maybe starting to get a little hungry himself.]

[Yeah that made no sense, sorry Charles. He was used to innumerable people milling about, and never a spare crust of bread to be found. But he followed in, and sniffed, then inhaled deeply. His stomach clenched again, and he eyed the food lines a bit warily - but absolutely hungrily.]

[Charles took a step forward, sensed his friend's hesitation and carefully tugged at his hand again.]

Come on. No one's going to stop you from having some. There's lots of food.

[There was a moment where he wasn't certain of that, because it felt all wrong, seeing all this food laid out and no one policing what was being taken - but his stomach wanted to believe, and soon he propelled himself forward with Charles, dropping his friend's hand in favor of grabbing a plate.]

I don't even know where to start.

[Charles grabs a plate of his own plate and smiles, not sure if his relative ease with the situation is a good thing or bad thing for Erik, but he knows it's not normal for people to deny others food, and he doesn't want his friend to be nervous about it.]

Wherever you want. I hope there's pineapple.

[Well, all right then. Erik hesitates a few moments longer, but it isn't long before he's piling his plate high with eggs, oatmeal, pancakes, waffles - he even takes a piece of bacon, because it smells strange and delicious and it's been so very long since he's had it. He wasn't supposed to, but Papa always liked it, and Mama always chided him and made it anyway - Erik didn't know why they weren't supposed to eat it, or why they did anyway, but it made him think of home.]

[Charles helps himself to some waffles and fruit, but doesn't go anywhere near as overboard as his friend, but he was glad Erik seemed happy and he didn't have any reason to think this might be a bad idea.

Once Erik's set, Charles heads over to take a seat at one of the tables, glancing back to make sure his friend was coming.]

Do you want syrup?

[How wrong they were going to be. Erik followed his friend to the table, eyes still wide at how much he was allowed to take, at how much everyone was allowed to take.]

Syrup? [Erik paused, trying to remember the last time he'd had syrup, then nodded eagerly.] Yes. Yes, please.

[Charles grins and retrieves some before taking a seat and passing it over to Erik, stabbing at a strawberry with a fork before saying anything else.]

Why do you suppose a grown up checked on you, but no one's come to see what I've been doing?

[Erik thanks him for the syrup, and piles it onto the pancakes, still staring at the mound of food like he can't believe it. And he can't, really, and he probably won't for a while. When he starts to eat, he doesn't stop, not even to answer. He hasn't had a meal in so long, and he's always so hungry, and all he wants is to feel full, for the first time in much too long.]

I don't know. Maybe because you weren't afraid?

[Charles watches him for a bit before he starts making progress on his own breakfast, not pushing him for an answer. When he does, the telepath considers the answer for a few moments before responding. That could be it, maybe, but he did kind of have the feeling that he was supposed to be here and that he was supposed to maybe be looking after someone, but it was a thought that was fragile and sort of distorted, like a soap bubble, and it felt like if he paid it too much attention, it would burst and be gone.

Besides, he was looking after someone, and so his attention was brought back to Erik easily enough.]

Maybe. You don't need to eat so fast, no one's going to take it away.

Oh. [But Erik couldn't quite understand that; he was starving, his food could be gone at any minute, and all that mattered was shoveling it into his mouth, even after his stomach clenched, even after he felt too, too full. He'd be hungry later, he needed to eat now, and keep eating, because when would he have the chance again?]

[Charles frowned, worried, but let him do it anyway, not really sure how to actually convince him no one was going to come and take it away. Even if they were going to, Charles could make them leave before Erik even realized that was what they were planning on. Maybe after he adjusted to it here, in however many days they were going to be here for he'd slow down.]

[At the very least, this was a terrible learning experience for them. Erik's eating slowed and ground to a halt after a moment, even though only half his plate was gone. His face was growing pale, and for a moment, he lifted his fork, stabbing a bit of pancake to eat - but he put it back down quickly, and he was definitely pale now.]

I don't feel-- [He didn't get to finish, though, because he bent forward, away from Charles, and threw up.]

Erik? [Charles shoved his chair back and stood up, putting a hand on his friend's shoulder, completely and utterly at a loss for what to do. He didn't know how to take care of someone who was sick, and didn't know why it was happening now. Erik hadn't seemed sick, and he didn't think there was anything wrong with the food.]

Erik, are you alright?

[He groaned in between heaves, and when the worst of it passed, he shakily got to his feet.]

Bathroom, [he croaked, and swallowed past the awful taste to keep his stomach from rebelling again. It was clenching up, hurting, and oh, he never, ever wanted to eat again (but he did, this wasn't fair, what was wrong).]

✘ | 012 | VIDEO

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