→ i've been worryin' that i'm losing the ones i hold dear

[mentis]

Who: House 8 ( the mutant bunch )
What: Well, when you have two psychics and a man who can manipulate magnetic fields, a lack of power and communicative ability, and a whole bunch of mutants going missing you get this. What this is remains to be seen.
When: Day 100
Where: House 8.
Warnings: Anger. Of all different flavours.

With the power down and the network suffering, Charles finds himself at a bit of a loss. There's only so much a person can do to keep themselves occupied before the worry sinks in. He pauses mid action ( trying to unsuccessfully stitch up the edges of his trousers and wondering whether or not he can simply find a stapler and do it ) and turns his thoughts to the other members left in his house. He knows they must be suffering from a similar fate, if not a different kind of strain. Laura is gone. The boy Julian has gone. Jubilee too. Charlie. It's a worrying correlation and he's sure they've seen Dilandau on the network explaining what he's found out. He knows what it means.

Mutants are disappearing.

And while Charles is an optimist he knows there's only so much that can be explained away before the answer turns stark. He can feel Erik's frustration on the edges of his mind, building and boiling like a rolling black cloud of thunder and threatening to spill without warning. He can feel River too and her thoughts shift and shake but he lifts himself up from the seat and moves to find them both. They should talk about it at least.

Comments

[violenthearted]

Erik's ability to navigate in an almost total absence of light has nothing supernatural about it (although in theory his mutation should allow him to visualize anything on the light spectrum, he's nowhere near there), just years of practice. Still, he feels Charles coming before his eyes adjust to his outline, the low, steady hum of connection that's always there these days.

He turns from the kitchen counter, where he's been stockpiling and organizing the most immediate food at hand that requires no refrigeration, eyebrows up. Sure, Charles can't see most of Erik's expression, but he can certainly pick up the attendant emotions. "Something on your mind?"

Yes. Absolutely there is.

[enchangement]

River has taken to hovering in corners somewhere between wherever Erik and Charles happen to be, if they happen to not be in the same room. By now she's tired; tired of her own reactions to these things, tired that it keeps happening, tired of being trapped and feeling helpless.

She would spend more of her time sleeping if that didn't lead to confusing nightmares and feeling worse off than the baseline deprivation does. 

"Don't staple your pants," she states quietly from her perch in the counter at the opposite end of the kitchen from Erik. "Come undone and cut the flesh with tiny teeth like metal mice. 

Also it'd look awful."

[mentis]

He pulls the barest of faces in Erik's direction, soft and would be almost playful if the worry he felt wasn't reflected in his friend's eyes. Obviously he doesn't need to dignify that with an answer, instead he turns to River and smiles.

"Nothing could be more awful than what I look like already, darling."

He slides his hands into the cardigan he's wearing - the only article of clothing he genuinely likes ( magnified simply because Erik provided it ) - and leans against the door frame. He's getting better at not avoiding the kitchen but there's still a nervous tick in his jaw for a bit of a second. The next thing comes out playful but with care. Sometimes outright asking doesn't work and he imagines a bit of needling will be in order.

"I thought a storm was brewing but now I realise that's just Erik."