Erik Lensherr | ( Magneto ) (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
wecanavenge) wrote2013-08-27 09:59 am
wecanavenge) wrote2013-08-27 09:59 am
✘ | 023 | VIDEO + SPAM
[Spam for Charles]
[Back on board, Erik is exhausted. Too much was taken out of him, in taking down Creed, but there's a little smile on his face. Erik knew he was powerful, knew he to lift massive objects, stop missiles, he knew he was strong. But he never realized how far that could one day extend, and the part of his mind that is always reaching, always striving is excited and whirring, exhausted or otherwise.
He makes sure that Rogue gets to the infirmary, and leaves Charles to his own shower, for once heading to the inmate showers instead of waiting. Lifting his arms to push soap out of his hair is a feat, but he manages, just as he manages to get back to his room. In clean clothes and with a damp head, he all but collapses into his bed, grateful for its comfort.
And as much as he'd like to, he can't sleep, thoughts too busy chasing themselves around his head.]
[Private separately to Alex, Anya, Raven, Ivy]
Are you all right? [He's tense, tired, but he needs to know they got back safe.]
[Private to Jean]
[This is harder, because he hates, hates that he couldn't prevent what happened to her, hates that she was one of the ones to suffer.]
How are you feeling?
[Private to Kelsier]
I'm sorry I couldn't come for you. [Awkward, a little, because how do admit he cares without admitting he cares.]
[Private to Barbara]
[Nope this is even more awkward.] He was taken care of.
[Private to Zane]
[He's a little more hesitant, but he did tell Charles he'd try. Besides, at least in this, they have something in common.]
I thought I'd put him down permanently. But well done, dealing with him.
[Private separately to Vin and Marsh]
[There's a lot of hesitation before he says to hell with it and puts this one out: might as well collect all you Mistborn folk.] How did you make out?
[Open spam in the CTS]
[A few days after returning to the Barge, when the exhaustion has ebbed and Erik feels like himself again, he can't put off the excitement anymore. He hasn't pushed himself very hard, here; he hasn't had to. Since Raven gave him the glitter, it's been on his mind, but only in port did he realize just how far he could be pushing himself. And he intends to push hard, as hard as he can, now.
In the CTS, he's bouncing on the balls of his feet, eager to test these new limits. He had known them, once, but they keep changing, evolving (he likes how that sounds), and there is so much more he can do with magnetism than throwing metal around. That's easy: he's here to practice something much more difficult.
Electricity crackles through the air; it's like the weather itself is attacking him, not terribly unlike the port they just left. But that's all right; that's what Erik wants. He just needs to figure out how to conduct it without that almighty anger. So far, he's just been shocked a lot.]
[Back on board, Erik is exhausted. Too much was taken out of him, in taking down Creed, but there's a little smile on his face. Erik knew he was powerful, knew he to lift massive objects, stop missiles, he knew he was strong. But he never realized how far that could one day extend, and the part of his mind that is always reaching, always striving is excited and whirring, exhausted or otherwise.
He makes sure that Rogue gets to the infirmary, and leaves Charles to his own shower, for once heading to the inmate showers instead of waiting. Lifting his arms to push soap out of his hair is a feat, but he manages, just as he manages to get back to his room. In clean clothes and with a damp head, he all but collapses into his bed, grateful for its comfort.
And as much as he'd like to, he can't sleep, thoughts too busy chasing themselves around his head.]
[Private separately to Alex, Anya, Raven, Ivy]
Are you all right? [He's tense, tired, but he needs to know they got back safe.]
[Private to Jean]
[This is harder, because he hates, hates that he couldn't prevent what happened to her, hates that she was one of the ones to suffer.]
How are you feeling?
[Private to Kelsier]
I'm sorry I couldn't come for you. [Awkward, a little, because how do admit he cares without admitting he cares.]
[Private to Barbara]
[Nope this is even more awkward.] He was taken care of.
[Private to Zane]
[He's a little more hesitant, but he did tell Charles he'd try. Besides, at least in this, they have something in common.]
I thought I'd put him down permanently. But well done, dealing with him.
[Private separately to Vin and Marsh]
[There's a lot of hesitation before he says to hell with it and puts this one out: might as well collect all you Mistborn folk.] How did you make out?
[Open spam in the CTS]
[A few days after returning to the Barge, when the exhaustion has ebbed and Erik feels like himself again, he can't put off the excitement anymore. He hasn't pushed himself very hard, here; he hasn't had to. Since Raven gave him the glitter, it's been on his mind, but only in port did he realize just how far he could be pushing himself. And he intends to push hard, as hard as he can, now.
In the CTS, he's bouncing on the balls of his feet, eager to test these new limits. He had known them, once, but they keep changing, evolving (he likes how that sounds), and there is so much more he can do with magnetism than throwing metal around. That's easy: he's here to practice something much more difficult.
Electricity crackles through the air; it's like the weather itself is attacking him, not terribly unlike the port they just left. But that's all right; that's what Erik wants. He just needs to figure out how to conduct it without that almighty anger. So far, he's just been shocked a lot.]
[private]
Easily.
[private]
[private]
[This is how he would have hunted her down; she could never get out of range fast enough. The recitation is dull and cold.]
Bend light sometimes, though not precisely. He didn't practice that much. The same for messing with people's electro-nervous signals. He preferred big and flashy.
[If he'd honed his detail work, her plan would have been useless - a harmless and invisible flick of control over Pietro's trigger finger, and he'd have lived. But in the moment, shocked and distraught, he either couldn't manage it or didn't think to try.]
[private]
[Her tone sinks in, finally, and he breaks off, sobers abruptly, and remembers the bloody cape she had above her bed. He bows his head for a moment.]
I shouldn't have asked. Anya, I didn't - I'm sorry.
[private]
It's on the EM spectrum. He could probably have cooked people alive with X-rays or gamma, if he worked at it, but he didn't think of it, and I didn't suggest it. It would have been fairly redundant anyway, considering the lightning.
[She's being more brittle than she needs to be, bitter and brusque in a way that's disproportionate to his thoughtlessness. She looks away.]
It's okay. They aren't particularly pleasant memories, but it's not traumatizing to talk about. I told Shaw, and you certainly have more right to the information than he did.
[private]
What did you tell Shaw?
[private]
All of it.
About him, I mean, not...me. Or us.
[private]
Why?
[private]
He was so obsessed with the idea that he'd made you stronger. Convincing him he'd done the opposite the only way I could think of to hurt him.
[private]
His mouth pinches, but it smooths again when he looks at her.]
Did it hurt him?
[private]
[It's a small, measured satisfaction.]
Hard to tell for sure, he covered it well. I'll let you see the conversation, if you want.
[private]
[private]
[And then, before she can lose her nerve, she sends him the old conversation and filters him in on it.]
[private]
[It's all he says before going radio silent while he reads. It's a lot to take in, and his brow does furrow at her first argument. He wonders how weak he is, compared to other Erik Lensherrs. Other Magnetos. He can juggle ferrous metals, while others are gods.
Not gods, he thinks, because he doesn't ever want to compare himself to that.
It's not until Shaw calls her a disappointment that his anger really flares, though. The rest he reads with jaw locked and lips pressed tight together.
And despite himself, he lets out a dark chuckle at her comment about brain damage.]
You were right. It bothered him.
Re: [private]