exiles and strangers living in danger

[violenthearted]

Who: Erik Lehnsherr and River Tam (aka Erik is all up in your logs this month)
What: It has filtered down to Erik that his impossibabby's brain has been cracked m...ore open than usual. He must deal with this in lieu of angrily levitating the Doctor or any scientists.
Where: Casa de Mutant (House Eight)
When: Day 78, Evening (occurs after this)
Warning: Mmm, putting Erik and River together means their respective upsetting histories will probably be touched on, so standard warning for traumatized characters, possibly some imagery regarding medical horrors.



If Erik must admit that being surrounded (on ...two sides) by telepaths occasionally has its perks, he will, albeit grudgingly, acknowledge there's something to be said for just projecting invitation via the atmosphere at large. He can't feel the fracturing in River's psyche and only knows of it secondhand (or third, possibly, as a person's interpretation goes; presumably Charles has it secondhand but that is the kind of philosophical quandary he is fully prepared to ignore)--and yet. As much as he understands those better emotionally equipped have already addressed the issue ...it's not how he'd want to be approached.

Not that he pretends to have any kind of corner on the market, considering his own strategy for recurring and chronic pain is largely to bare his teeth until it goes away. He does know, though, that when the mind cannot be trusted sometimes the body is the only refuge left.

The idea he sends is a rough sketch - the knight has need of the page - and if it feels a little too high fantasy for him to take seriously, he's not doing for himself. The roles River has constructed are important to her; she frames the way she sees the world like a poet creates metaphor.

So it's pretty imagery, all of which probably breaks down when the first thing he says, upon River's appearance on or around the front porch (where he's sitting again) are: "I thought you might like to hit something."

Your father figure, River.

Comments

[enchangement]

Since Charles left River has been a little more aware of the other minds she has become so mired with, the particular tunes in the entire overwrought orchestra - that, plus the use of her own imagery (castles and knights and chess and monarchies) makes it easy to interpret Erik's invitation.

It is not as easy to go as she's been bidden, though that little twist of wanting to hide in a shadow only gives her a few minutes' pause before she sets across the town. In all of this there is a vast sense of disappointment; first in that she didn't make it known immediately that she was struggling, second in that she attempted to keep it from Ned while still communicating, third that she'd been projecting her craziness almost directly into Charles' head in such a bizarre manner that he had to take time to even figure out what the hel it was.

Now there's this, another tiny venomous idea, that Erik will feel disappointed that she hadn't sought him out as well. If it had been an attack, an assault upon her person, there would be no question. Erik has survived, the way that River has survived, and she knows he'd never be shocked to learn of places like Miranda and truths like Pax.

That tiny venomous idea shrivels and burns the moment River can see Erik. He thinks no less of her for this new fracture, or for the way in which it's been addressed thus far - so the smile begins before she hears his suggestion and it becomes all out beaming.

Her voice is still on the mend from it's extreme overuse in several days, but at least she's past the point of nonstop chattering at herself and no one. "Yes." Dear God, would she? She would like to hit everything, would like to indulge in something her brain can do no matter what, and she doesn't have a dancing partner.

[violenthearted]

It may not be fair, but it's the way Erik thinks: River is a mutant; whatever she's done to survive and needs to keep doing--it's all right. He rationalizes with much greater ease than he would for a human. They have advantages the marginalized will never be able to afford; help is available to them without so much as a flick of the wrist. There are mutants who have cause to fear as much as seeking a hospital in the event of medical emergency, can't be trusted they won't be restrained and vanished by forces unknown for purposes unfathomable. Mutants don't get the same chances, or the same choices. He'll work to change that if it takes the rest of his life, and here he has no other cause, no submarine to hunt or vengeance to bend his purpose toward. He has only the small community he allows the extension of himself.

For better or worse River is part of that, so she does get the benefit of Erik's reservoir of feeling when it takes a shape other than blistering rage. His mouth slants sidelong in one of his toothy grins, friendly but sharp. "How's your accuracy?"

He puts out his hands to demonstrate, palms facing toward her, fingers pointed skyward. Considering he hasn't gotten up if she does miss landing a punch it is entirely possible she could hit him in the face, and if she actually puts all of her strength into either blow she'll break one of his hands, at the very least, but ...Erik has faith. On occasion.

[enchangement]

River tilts her chin down, still grinning. "They taught her how to fight in her sleep." She shifts her stance just barely before throwing the first punch; definitely not enough to break his hands but enough to feel the contact, the strain and give of muscles on impact. It's been too long, much too long really. The last time she sparred was with Cass, and before that?

Well. There wasn't a before that. "Easier, because she fought awake. Struggled and held out." Second impact, this time with the opposite fist. A little wobblier on her feet for that one, but she isn't sure if that's in the recall or in the disuse. "Held out, held on, until the last little hope drifted off." Until she stopped believing anyone would come for her. "But it keeps, and sometimes there's no regret to know. Only that there are pieces missing, parts they cut out because her will was too strong. Because they weren't sure if she'd go docile or berserk."

Which was it? She went both, she thinks, attacked the interviewer and opened his windpipe with an ink pen. That's when they started keeping her under, and her life became waking not awake nightmares of the worst sort. "Three years. Simon broke me out, and it cost him everything. Simon broke me out and I'm still breaking."

River would say she isn't sure why she's talking except that would be a lie - the presence of another person drives her to communicate, and the presence of a person she cares about drives her to ...this. Sharing. "Did Charles mention the key?" Two more hits, in rapid succession, before she spins on her hell and delivers a third.

That last one may have been a little harder than she meant it to be.