✘ | 018 | VOICE + SPAM

[wecanavenge]

[Private to Tosh]

You've been quiet.

[Or at least he thinks so, he doesn't actually look for her on the network.] Didn't care for the underwater wonder? [The sarcasm is strong with this one.]

[Open Spam]

[The pub, the CTS, the spa, a dozen amenities are gone from the ship, and Erik knows what's happening. The Barge is finally becoming a real prison.

He walks down the halls with his head high and his chin up, but underneath the facade, his skin is crawling. The halls are narrow, but the common rooms were the worst shock yet. It was chance that he discovered the bolts at all, but when he couldn't move one of the chairs by hand, he reached out with his mutation. He could see the metal, the magnetism was malleable, but it wouldn't move.

For one long, horrible moment, he thinks it's gone again, that Toshiko has stripped him of the only thing that makes him himself - but a tense, furious moment later sees the walls around him rippling and trembling under the force of his mutation. It calms him, at least, and the muted trembling stops, for now. The room gets one long, sweeping look before Erik turns on his heel and leaves.

The Admiral can nullify his mutation as he likes, so how long, Erik wonders, before they're all limited and locked in at night? How long before they march down the halls in double lines, to do progressively worse jobs? How long before they're being told, arbeit macht frei?]

Comments

Private

[breakingmyheart]

That's been true for several years.

I'm not a strong swimmer.

Private

[wecanavenge]

I suppose I'd be more concerned if you were abruptly talkative.

You haven't relapsed? [Erik subtlety is a tool you should probably use more often...]

Private

[breakingmyheart]

No.

If I end up in Zero for trying to steal from the Infirmary, I'm sure someone will let you know.

Private

[wecanavenge]

Now would be a poor time to wind up in zero.

Private

[breakingmyheart]

So I've heard.

How are you doing?

Private

[wecanavenge]

Less than thrilled. Did you know the common room furniture is bolted down?

Private

[breakingmyheart]

No, I didn't.

Maybe he's trying to limit the damage on the riot he's likely to cause at this rate.

[bodilesswarrior]

[The halls are a pain in the ass.

She can still get through them, just, but maneuvering is hard, and the frustration lines her face. She's only out here to check the changes for herself, and return a stack of books to the library.

When she hears the sudden creaks and groans from the nearest common room, she turns as fast as she can, books spilling from her laps as her hands thump hard against her wheels.

When she sees Erik step through the door, her brow furrows, hands slowing.]

Is everything all right?

[wecanavenge]

[He pauses his brisk walk when he sees her, and when he starts forward again it's slowly. Barbara Gordon; he still remembers the other Barbara, the inmate - though he remembers her best in a foggy haze as a student in a magical school. And he remembers this Barbara in a city called Redemption. His lip twitches, though there's no smile.]

Fine, [he says curtly, then waves his hand back toward the common room.] An experiment. [But there's a bitter twist to his words.

Glancing down the hall behind her, he spots the books.] Are those yours?

[bodilesswarrior]

[She gazes at him silently a moment, before nodding. She has no qualms about prying when it's needed, but she doesn't see a reason to now.

Her lips twist into a rueful little smile as she nods.]

Yeah, they are. I should stop doing the book tower thing.

[She waves a hand irritably.]

Especially when I've got this to work with.

[wecanavenge]

I can't imagine it helps, [he says quietly, and though he hesitates for a breath, he steps carefully around her, stooping here and there to gather the books.]

Here, [he says when he's done, not Sorry I startled you, but it's close enough. Sort of.]

[bodilesswarrior]

[There's a variety of subjects in there, in several languages - history, botany, anthropology - but chief among them is astrophysics.

Barbara accepts them with a faint smile.]

Thanks.

[She's not sure what to say, after that. I know this must be hard, Hang in there, We'll find a way to make it stop.]

The common rooms aren't much better, then?

[wecanavenge]

[He bites back a frustrated sigh, and glances over her shoulder at one of them. He could offer an explanation, but that would be like admitting to a tantrum and he doesn't really want to do that.]

Not what I'd call comfortable anymore, I'm afraid.

[wedonot]

[Charles isn't claustrophobic, but he'd be lying if he said the renovations weren't starting to wear on his nerves, and honestly, starting to make him fairly on edge, wondering what's going to happen next, trying not to think too hard about the memories that had started bubbling back up again, of being hurt and helpless, of seeing Erik dead.

It doesn't help that he's not alone in this. He's never actively reading the minds of everyone on board, but he can't ignore that everyone is stressed and angry and worried about the future, that a sort of dark cloud hovers over all of them just waiting for the right moment to break open, and there's nothing any of them can do about it. If he had his way, he'd just grab Erik and the kids and Morgana and whoever else wanted to come and get out of here, but he couldn't.

As it is, he just has a headache. Usually, he'd just head back to his room - the access filter actually coming in handy, for once - but the door's vanished and after huffing out a relatively impolite phrase, he turned back to try and find something else to do.

Either way, he would have wanted to find Erik after sensing the sudden flare of anger and bad memories. He doesn't have an unconscious link with his friend, not like other telepaths apparently do, but sometimes it seemed like he might as well have, because it's basically always there, so he finds him quickly, not sure what to do. He knows he's not alright, and would have known even if he wasn't a telepath, so he doesn't bother asking. His first instinct is to reach out and comfort his friend, to promise that whatever happened, Charles wouldn't let that happen to him again, that he'd find a way to get him out, but he knows he can only promise that he'd try, that they still might be here forever, that nothing is a sure thing.

But being reminded that he wasn't alone had helped him, when being trapped had been on the table before, and so that's what ends up being gently projected, that he's here and wants to help.]

What happened?

[wecanavenge]

[After living such a solitary life, Erik found it strange, to open up to Charles - more than that, to be so very okay with opening up to him. The sense from his friend is calming, consoling, and makes him less snappish.]

The furniture is bolted down, [he says, nodding vaguely back toward the common room. And so he's understood, he thinks of a moment ago, how apparently nuts and bolts are now stronger by far than his mutation.] I thought - well. [Charles knows what he thought.]

[wedonot]

[Charles doesn't know what to say, or think, really. These changes have bothered him, too, and he didn't know how much worse things were going to get, if they were going to be permanent, and so he glanced towards the common room and then back at Erik, chewing his lip for a moment before responding.]

Whatever happens, I'll do whatever I can to get you out of here. [It's what he'd promised pretty much from the moment he'd realized Erik was on board, and it's as close as he's going to get to admitting that he's kind of freaked out by the changes, too.]

[wecanavenge]

[It gives him pause, makes him take a moment to look at Charles, really take him in. Erik knows what his problem has been, he understands what's going on - in a very twisted way, at least - but he hasn't paused to give much thought to how Charles is weathering it.

He has memories of the camp, after all. And he lived through the Vanquish.

Erik shifts his weight just slightly, nodding.]

I know. You've already promised me that. [There was the quiet thought, are you all right, to go with it.]

[wedonot]

[Charles manages a smile at the thought, trying to be reassuring.]

I'm fine. [Which is his standard response, really, and he knows no one buys it, even when it's true, so he elaborates slightly.] I'm just tired.

[Not because he was having a hard time with memories or nightmares, but simply because it was just hard to shut his mind off in the middle of all of this.]

[wecanavenge]

[None of them have that luxury, and he doesn't offer the helmet because he doesn't think that's the kind of shutting off Charles has in mind.]

You know, I'm half tempted to take my chances over the railing.

spam - a little while after?

[fridgetothefire]

[She passes through the reduced common room soon enough after Erik does to note the faint corrugated ripples left in the walls before they are smoothed over by repair. She doesn't immediately think tantrum - the walls are still standing - but she wonders why. Fiercely. She decides, after some consideration, to make at least a preliminary approach herself. She takes the book she borrowed from him as an excuse, still tucked under the slats of her windowseat through all the madness of the barge since then, and walks next door to his room, knuckles rapping gingerly.]

spam - yes good!

[wecanavenge]

[He's agitated still, angry - when he was a boy, he spent his days hovering on the fringes or huddled in his family's small apartment, waiting for the other shoe to drop. It dropped hard. Here, there's no Fuhrer preaching prejudice and hatred, but there's an unquestionable, unapproachable leader doing whatever he wants. Soon enough, he'll drop the facade of redemption all together, and the ship will be a place of punishment and nothing else.

When the knock comes, he jerks his hand from across the room, opening the door sharply without leaving his spot in front of the window. He turns to stare at Anya, and though some part of him knows he should calm down for her, it feels out of his reach.]

Yes?

\o/

[fridgetothefire]

I brought your book back.

[She doesn't offer it to him, though, leaving him with the choices of grabbing it out of her arms, or inviting her in.]

Sorry it's been awhile. Things have been...you know.

[wecanavenge]

[His eyes dart to the book and he forces himself to exhale, be calm, and gestures her inside.]

It's fine. [He's still being short, and that's a problem, so he pushes himself away from the window to head toward her, nodding once.] I said you could take your time. What did you think?

[fridgetothefire]

[She slips in, unconcerned with his curtness. He's letting her speak, which is more than she can say for her father in a mood.]

I know. I just like to be prompt.

I liked it very much. I transcribed a few of my favorite bits, actually.

[She leans against his desk, halfway between the commitment of taking a chair and the awkward hovering of standing in the middle of the room.]

[wecanavenge]

[He still hates her father. Hates any version of himself that isn't him, really. Erik holds his hand out for the book, and goes to lean against the desk on the other side, half sitting, half standing.]

Good. There are others - I could probably scare up another, if you'd like.