✘ | 014 | VIDEO

[wecanavenge]

[When the video clicks on, Erik stares into the camera for a silent second, his posture relaxed, his expression thoughtful. The helmet still sits on the edge of his desk, just out of site; he hasn't been wearing it. His fingers tap idly on the pages of an open book, da da da da, over and over until they go still, and he sits a little straighter.]

The Admiral enjoys putting us through hell. That much is obvious to anyone who has been here more than a month. Keep your arguments - if he doesn't enjoy it, it at least happens often. We have no control of it, only the certainty that when it ends, we will be back here to pick up the pieces. Sometimes we don't even have that, when our identities are robbed.

[His fingers drum against the pages again, and he glances down, eyes moving left to right, reading silently. After a moment, he lifts the book, showing the title: The Thirtieth Year, by Ingeborg Bachmann.]

This was published only a few years ago, in 1961. Ms. Bachmann grew up in Austria, during the war.

[His mouth pinches at the corners, painfully aware just how much everyone can discern of his childhood, thanks to the regression flood. But he goes on anyway.]

Despite that, there is a distinctly joyful tone in her writing. She philosophizes about language in many of these stories, about the invention of a pure language unfettered by desire, or imagination, or will. A language of truth. [Da da da da go his fingers, and he cups his jaw in his free hand, brows creased in thought.]

I traveled a great deal after escaping Germany. [After escaping Auschwitz; he doesn't say that his travel was, in fact, hunting.] I saw the rubble of cities, bombed out homes and destroyed blocks, as she no doubt did. And there is a choice, when you see those things. [He stops tapping, drops his hand from his jaw.] There can be anger, for those that cause such destruction, rage on behalf of the lives that were ruined, buried beneath stone. Or, there can be hope. Frail, but brave, for though there are ruined towns and millions of bodies to account for, you are still drawing breath.

[He falls silent again; Bachmann experienced the latter, he felt the former. And it's strange to say that their are choices when really he felt like he had none. There is still only one path - but sometimes, maybe, paths can brush before they part again.]

The title story is predictable: a man loses his lust for life, and only discovers it after a brush with death, while trapped in traction in a hospital, amongst the invalided and infirm. It isn't so different here, I think. We are trapped, at the mercy of our invasive and neglectful doctor, left to piece ourselves together after each great accident.

[He lifts the book again, flipping a page and searching for a passage.] And we do it, because to fall apart is to give in. "I say unto thee: Rise up and walk! None of your bones is broken." [He closes the book, and stares into the camera.]

I intend to walk out of here one day.

[But the way he says it doesn't leave it particularly clear - maybe he will graduate. Or maybe he will rip the Barge apart on his way out the proverbial door. Erik leaves the feed for a moment, before reaching forward and ending it.]

Comments

[doctor_j_crane]

Well, that ended on a more positive note then I would have expected.

[wecanavenge]

[So dryly:] How did you expect it to end?

[secretasshole]

[In a lot of ways, David gets it, but at the same time really doesn't. He's been programmed to understand human emotion, but some of the more complex stuff and logical fallacies really just don't click with him, and he has a question he wants to ask. But he should be polite, he thinks, because he knows he makes Erik uncomfortable, and right now, he actually isn't looking to exploit that.]

That was very moving.

[wecanavenge]

[Oh. It's you. His eyes narrow a bit at the corners, and he's very tempted to ask if David can be moved at all, but he dials it back at least a little bit.]

Was it?

[secretasshole]

Yes. [He so can be, put on Lawrence of Arabia and he'll beat you in the single manly tear department.]

May I ask something?

[bodilesswarrior]

[She listens thoughtfully, a slow, faint smile curving her lips. When she's speaks, it's soft, a bit wistful.]

I could have used a book like that, a few years ago.

[wecanavenge]

[He thinks she's referring to whatever crippled her, and it makes him press his lips tighter together. It's brief - Charles never blamed him, and he can walk again now, but it will be impossible to forget how Charles cried out.]

I imagine most people could.

telespam

[wedonot]

[Charles is honestly doing better. He'd had his moment of weakness and was determined to push past it, and he finds the subject of his friend's post relevant in a way that he's not sure he actively wants to comment on, now. They'd talked about it, and he was working on rebuilding the walls around the trauma so he could rise up and walk, and he didn't really think there was much else for either of them to say to each other on the subject.

Still, it's comfortable, to be able to reach out and communicate telepathically, instead of over the network or barging into his room to talk, and he even manages a normal "tone", somewhere between amused andsmug.]

Still think you wouldn't make a very good teacher?

it's like telecommuting

[wecanavenge]

[Smug bastard. Erik snorts quietly, and shrugs, which he's sure Charles will find some way to 'see.']

Do you have any more students for me to push off high objects?

it's the best that's what it is

[wedonot]

Just Jean, and I'd prefer you not try to push her off of anything, if it's all the same to you. [You are so, so incredibly lucky Sean didn't die jfc. :|]

voice;

[magisterus]

Hope is often found in unexpected places.

[ A brief, if thoughtful pause. ]

Is it hope or confidence that leads you to that conclusion?

voice;

[wecanavenge]

Let's call it necessity.

You're new.

voice;

[magisterus]

I see.

[ And indeed he does. Wardens aren't the only ones with important matters left unfinished. ]

I arrived a short while ago.

[ He hasn't been called 'new' at anything in a long, long time. ]

[keepsthemsafe]

[Squint.]

Pretty.

[wecanavenge]

What is, exactly?

[keepsthemsafe]

Your quotation.

Private

[chlorophylliac]

How much of 'here' do you plan on leaving behind you?

Private

[wecanavenge]

That remains to be seen. [It'll depend on when he can do it, and on who he must leave behind. Mostly.]

Private

[chlorophylliac]

Then I'll look forward to seeing it.

[Though needless to say if she gets even incidentally screwed into the bargain then she's coming down on you with the fury of a thousand suns.]

How did you end up here to begin with? I find it hard to believe a stray bullet would trouble you.

[darknessb4me]

I'm sure everyone does.

[wecanavenge]

Do you?

Video

[lesliemonster]

[Erik, Leslie doesn't really know you that well. Because you are incredibly intimidating. But. There are only so many messages out there talking about amazing lady authors she loves. Before she responds to the message, she ducks into her library. Pulls out a dog eared volume of collected poems.]

I...like that much better than one of her more famous quotes. "War is no longer declared, only continued."

Video

[wecanavenge]

[His intimidation factor is his favorite trait 8] He does seem interested, at least, eyes settling on her.]

It's more hopeful, but that, I think, is more eternally true.

[burnmythoughts]

[Her voice is soft and sure.] You will. [And you will damn well do it the right way.]

[wecanavenge]

[He makes no promises, Jean. B(]

Your confidence is uplifting. [He mocks because he cares? Okay mock is a strong word, he's just being kind of sarcastic.]