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.]

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[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?

[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.]

[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.]

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?

[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?

Edited 2012-10-22 17:46 (UTC)

[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.]

[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.]

[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.

[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?

Edited 2012-10-22 17:58 (UTC)

[He holds the helmet tight in clammy hands, and nothing in his demeanor says he believes that. He'd thought Shaw had seemed like a kind old man, when he'd first been ushered into his office. He'd offered chocolate. Erik thought maybe there had been a mistake, and this man would right it - and he'd been wrong.]

Hat Herr Doktor schicken Ihnen? [Did Herr Doktor send you - because he can't imagine any way for her to know his name.] Are you Schutzstaffel?

[He very carefully reaches out when the hand is offered, and he isn't certain how he understands the question - it isn't German, he knows that isn't German - but he can replay it in his head as if it was, and it's very strange and oddly comfortable, so he shakes as firmly as he can.]

Erik Lensherr. I didn't know - are you certain it's yours? [That was definitely German. But he's nervous again, and retreats to pick up the helmet from where he'd dropped it, turning it over in his hands for a moment before holding it out.] Is this yours too?

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

[Charles smiles, pleased that he had returned the handshake and seemed to understand him. He's never tried this before, it's not like anyone he knows speaks another language fluently enough to use it in every day life, and he follows him into the room, peering at the helmet when Erik holds it out to him.]

No, I don't know whose it is. It's weird. [He reaches out to touch it curiously, but doesn't move to take it away from the other boy, more focused on addressing the fear and uncertainty.] Erik, you don't have to be afraid. The man you're afraid of - the doctor? - I can make him go away. Why are you afraid of him?

Nein. Herr Doktor ist nicht hier. Du bist sicher.

[There's always a balance to strike here. The boy she's got in front of her now, and the man she's going to have to deal with in a few days. She can't isolate him now but she can't be seen to be taking advantage, either.]

Ich möchte mit dir reden. Darf ich?

[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?

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

Jean.

[And then she shakes her head.]

English.

I'm Erik. [Yup trading off replies what of it.] Did Toshiko tell you it was safe, too?

[And that is when Charles is butting in and beaming at the camera a little bit. Or, you know, as best he can while trying not to just shove Erik out of the way.]

Hi, Jean. I can translate for Erik, if you want.

[He clings to the helmet like a shield, and frowns his confusion.]

Sie sind bereits mit mir zu reden. Doktor Schmidt weiß, ich bin weg...

[She's quiet a moment, because her responses are having to get a bit longer and more nuanced and neither the translator nor the human brain are intended to be used this way.]

That doesn't matter. This place doesn't belong to the Schutzstaffel. They can't find you here, and no-one is going to send you to them.

[His grip tightens on the helmet, though a moment ago he seemed ready to foist it off on Charles. It's both unsettling and comforting, and he doesn't understand why.]

No one can make him go away. [He doesn't say anything more - but he thinks it. The cold metal tables, the tools prying his mouth open, keeping his eyes wide, the gun in Herr Doktor's hand, the ruin he'd left the lab in after he'd seen what that gun had caused.]

[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.

[That's cool bro he doesn't know what's going on anyway. But he understood that, sort of, so he gives a little smile over Charles' shoulder, and nods. Translating totally works.]

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

A what?

A boat. In between dimensions.

Sailing on the ocean that surrounds dimensions.

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