✘ | 023 | VIDEO + SPAM

[wecanavenge]

[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.]

Comments

[ CTS spam ]

[wecanavenge]

[Don't be too awed, Nathan; Erik is getting his share of shocks. His power can work in a way he's not used to using it, and though he's used to the way his mutation works, it's not much easier than he was first learning the ins and outs of what he could do.

This time his frustrations aren't accompanied by a pounding heart or fear of what will come of failure: he can smile when he accomplishes a task, curse out loud when he makes a mistake. And it hurts no one.

Eventually, the program ends, and for the first time (which is unsettling, he doesn't much care for the idea that anyone could have sneaked up on him) realizes he isn't alone.]

Wuornos, wasn't it?

[ CTS spam ]

[neuropathy]

[ Frankly, Nathan would be awed by someone who could intentionally levitate a feather. It's just not the way things work where he comes from, and that's maybe thirty percent of the reason people like Erik catch his attention. He'd be loathe to call it envy, but it is--it's something.

The rest of it is just easy commonality. Nathan makes friends like pulling teeth, but he does appreciate people he feels he could rely on in a crisis. Otherwise, unintentional stealth aside, he'd probably have just turned around and walked back out again. ]

Yeah. Nathan's fine too.

[ Dry. He indicates the finish program with a small incline of his head, in a continuing vein of the Saharan. ]

I know this thing's supposed to gear up for partners, but you might be outta luck with that one.

[ CTS spam ]

[wecanavenge]

[He smiles a little wryly, pushing slightly sweaty hair back, standing straight and tall and putting himself back together.]

You don't have powers, Nathan?

[ CTS spam ]

[neuropathy]

[ Nathan snorts. Does he have powers. What an interesting question that is, one that actually takes him a moment to consider. Eventually (his hands are in his pockets; he wears his height defensively, rather than offensively, like Erik): ]

Like that? Nah. But I'd last longer'n you in a boxing match.

[ As if he is, for instance, remarking on the fact that rain exists, and is wet. ]

[ CTS spam ]

[wecanavenge]

[He's sweating, and heads for the towel he'd brought in with him, running it over his face and hair before settling it around his neck. His eyebrows rise with Nathan's words, and he gives the other man a considering look.]

Healing? [It's a guess, mostly from what he's learned about the other universes where Erik - Magneto exists.]

[ CTS spam ]

[neuropathy]

[ Nathan ...laughs, a bark in the back of his throat. Not meanly, just with total incredulity; the thought had literally never occurred to him as a possibility. ]

No. I still get hurt -

[ and actually, for someone with as much scar tissue as Erik, Nathan in short sleeves displays his own striping and pockmarks of as much in greater quantity than most people; it's not that he doesn't get medical attention, he gets more of it than he'd like, he just doesn't have the resultant pain stimulus that keeps normal people from aggravating healing injury ]

- I just don't feel it. [ He shrugs; at this point he's more resigned than bitter. ] I don't feel anything ever.

[ Now the focus of conversation has been on him for like, a thousand times longer than he'd like, so he lets one corner of his mouth unfurl in wry humor. ] Doesn't mean I'm gonna let you practice electrocuting me, though. Don't get any ideas.

[ CTS spam ]

[wecanavenge]

[He tries to imagine it, really imagine it. Put himself in those shoes, to not feel anything, ever - his hands tighten on the ends of his towel, and Erik has to tell himself he wouldn't feel that. Nathan didn't just say pain, and even that has its downsides. He still gets hurt.

All in all, Erik's glad his mutation is what it is. It has its downsides, but better those than not feeling anything.

Fortunately, he's very against pity as a function of society, so her doesn't gentle his expression or give Nathan a sad look. He crooks his mouth instead, shrugging innocently.]

It would be a fascinating experiment. You'd be able to give detailed descriptions, I'm sure some scientist somewhere would appreciate that.

[ CTS spam ]

[neuropathy]

[ Nathan's not qualified in the literary sense to recognize intentional narrative irony, so he's never stopped to be annoyed by the fact that despite his inability to feel in the physical sense, his emotions tend to do whatever they damn well please. So for a second he can't help his expression - and he can't tell what his features are doing anyway, can't identify the tug of a grin, the heat of a blush or the sting of loosed tear ducts - for just that instant he's somewhere very far away. One heartbeat where longing tugs at him like the tide.

He knows people think he's fallen as hard as he has for Audrey because he can feel her. Maybe if he was looking through their eyes he'd think that too, it only makes sense. The truth is, though, that before anything else, she made him feel--normal. She didn't pity him, she didn't treat him like something that needed to be handled gently because it was broken.

So maybe he gets--some of that back, in that single blink, but he would rather experience all the pain hyperbole applied to normal people in these situations than explain, and he's pretty sure he and Erik have enough in common to gauge the other man, similarly, would rather not ask. Instead he will just efficiently pretend none of that happened with the eyebrows of Not Buying Your Nonchalance, Mssr. Lensherr. ]

The last time science tried to appreciate a Troubled person a guy almost had his brain removed. I'll pass.

[ He says Troubled with a not dissimilar inflection to 'mutant,' relevantly; it's about as pejorative intrinsically, but on Nathan there's a tinny tang of defiance. ]

So--what'dyou do, exactly? Electricity?

[ Look, he doesn't know. Explain Marvel science to him, Magnerik. ]