[The camera comes on to show Erik with dressed like a soldier, with two red circles painted on his cheeks. He has a cap on, its strap belted under his chin. In his hand, a toy sword that he seems very, very convinced is real, judging by the way he hefts it skyward. And it is skyward: he's clearly standing on the deck, surrounded by snow.]

Soldiers!

[He moves stiffly, not out of pain or the long absence of movement from his coma, but because that is how the toy soldier do.]

To battle! To the Prince! The rats - they come!

[Private to the Admiral]

[He adds this later. Grumpily. Very, very grumpily.]

You can dress this up as nicely and kindly as you like: it's just another way for you to feel powerful. I'm Jewish. I don't need your propaganda shoved down my throat every God damned December.

Get them something they'll like. [Erik that is a cop out. Come on now.

And a frustrated - well that sound is a little like a growl, but not quite.]

Fine! Give Charles a soup cook book and the complete works of Ingeborg Bachmann. Give Anya The Way Meat Loves Salt. Give Alex - I don't know - give him something we won't have to argue about. Give Raven new ice skates, and - something special. Some tradition from when she was younger. Give Jean a Hand of Miriam pendant.

Give David a copy of Pinocchio. No - give it to me first. It ought to be edited. Give Rogue a bracelet. Actually - don't. Give me some small bits of metal. I'll take care of it. And give Kelsier a cabinet full of that absurdly strong liquor, whatever it is. Make sure the bottles are hidden in secret compartments.

( spam for Charles )

( Content warning for Holocaust discussion and imagery. )

[Spam for Megamind]

[He needs to clear his head, desperately. The post helped, but the anger is still there, will always be there, he thinks, because he hadn't told everything. He hadn't said a word about Shaw, about the experiments. He hadn't mentioned the Vanquish, though it might have driven the point home; those were things he didn't want to face, publicly. Not yet. So he's walking, avoiding people and eye contact, though his posture is probably enough to put most off.

But he sees a flash of blue as he passed the lab, and Erik's gait slows and pauses for a breath. Megamind, who he wanted little than to punch yesterday. He doesn't know what it is that turns him around, that makes him lengthen his stride.]

Stop.

[When the camera clicks on, there's just the Cloverfield/Blair Witch Project effect: everything is shaky and slow to focus. The feed shows one of the suites, and the movement blurs things over - is that confetti on the floor, or just dust? Is the drapery meant to be that red, or was something splattered there? But there isn't long to dwell on those mysteries, because the camera finally focuses on Erik. His eyes are wide, and a little wild; at first the camera is too close as he shifts his grip on the device, and that's all there is to see: very wide, very angry eyes.]

Shh, [he says sharply, pulling the communicator back again. The door into the hall is behind him, and wide open.] Can you hear it?

[Maybe you'll hear nothing. It's faint, certainly, and Erik scowls, glancing around.] Shh, shh!

[And then, just maybe, you'll hear a song drifting up. It's old, decades old, but he recognizes it. His eyes leave the device, and he stares at something off screen for a moment. Then he lets go of the communicator, and for a moment, the camera is in free fall - but it lifts again, steadier this time, without Erik's hand holding it. It hovers in front of him again. Behind him, the door is closed.

Some of the anger clears from his face, and as the song gets louder - for him, at least, he joins in the verse.]

Il me dit des mots d’amour
Des mots de tous les jours
Et ça me fait quelque chose

Il est entré dans mon coeur
Une part de bonheur
Dont je connais la cause.

[For a moment, everything is still and (mostly) quiet. Then the anger floods back, and Erik waves his hand; the communicator is thrown across the room, where it falls, propped up against the wall. It has a good view of the suite, and of the damage Erik is doing to it. Mirrors shatter as their metal frames twist in on themselves, drawers with metal runners launch themselves out of dressers and desks, the room seems to destroy itself. And Erik steps into the frame amid the wreckage, pointing at - well. At what might be nothing, or what might be a man in a silver helmet.]

You son of a bitch! You son of a bitch, you turn it off!

[He sweeps his arms wildly, and cracks appear along the ceiling; dust filters down on the communicator, and then there is nothing as beams fall on it.]

( [Spam for Charles] )

( [Spam for Tosh] )

(OOC: Lyrics translation: 'He speaks to me words of love/Words of every day/And it makes me something/He has entered my heart/A place of happiness/Of which I understand the reason.' For maximum dear God why-ness. The German is 'You and I are going to have a lot of fun together.')