backwaterbelle | eudio

He was one of the first mutants I met. He was there when he fought Shaw, but we are far from being friends.

I abandoned him on a beach in Cuba, along with Charles and the other children.

[because it doesn't matter what he said before, they were still young back then. too young to be on a battlefield like that. but he'd been blinded by his need for revenge, by his own past. it was easier to consider them soldiers than children.]

You are aware of your own death? [he could twist this back to talking about havok. to finding that advice he needs. but instead--]

Is that why you're here? To prevent it.

[Shaw doesn't ring any bells, but if Erik met Alex during his early years, than his world's timeline sound even more jacked than her own.]

After Germany? He wasn't taken with your sparkling personality?

[The Havok she knows is less of a grump, but she hasn't met the one here.]

Which children? You'll have to tell me about Cuba sometime.

For the most part. I was taken in the midst.

[Sorry Erik, she's about to reveal just how hero-y she is with the next text.]

I was trying to prevent the murder of the remaining mutants. My incentive is that my team finds a way to do this, to save our people.

[No mention of her surviving. She didn't want to ask for too much. Nor does she mention the Apocalypse Twins and the Four Horsemen.]

A trade. The past, for the future.

[in other words, he wants to know more, but he knows it's unlikely to be easy on her. which is why he's willing to offer up something personal in return, regardless of how uncomfortable it may be for him.

it's also why he's willing to set aside the issues he has with alex. at least as far as seeking out advice from rogue is concerned. there's no point burdening her further than he already has.]

I've found somewhere new to live. You should come and visit me.

[There's lag time, hesitancy, in her response to this offer due to what exactly it could entail as well as lead to in the future, if their times and universes even crossed in any way. The doubt that they do is what sways her decision.]

If you provided the bottle of alcohol. Bourbon or whiskey.

[At the very least, she'll need a glass. She's about to ask about logistics when he answers that question for her.]

Send me a location, and I take it now is better than later?

[well. guess who needs to make a quick trip to the store first. with barely a quarter of a bottle left in his house (not home) now, he already knows it won't be enough.

as for the location-- it takes him a few tries, and leaves three crosses too many on the map he then sends to rogue. she may have shown him these things, but he hasn't really had a reason to practice.]

The one furthest to the east. Whenever you're ready.

[She had a feeling that'd be the case, what with what she knows of his situation already and from simply observing his behavior. Telling someone that their oldest, closest friend dies doesn't exactly put one in a chipper mood.

It's endearing, the difficulty this version of him has with technology, and she waits patiently for him to confirm a correct location before leaving.]

On my way. 15 minutes.

[When she arrives, she knocks, dressed simply in a green tank top and a pair of skinny jeans tucked into knee high boots of the not cowboy variety for once. Absently, she should have brought a jacket or sweatshirt, but she can always ~~borrow~~ steal something from Erik if she's too cold. This Erik doesn't seem like much of a cuddler, and she's not about to make things weird when they're doing well with this friends thing.]

[he makes full use of those fifteen minutes, taking a trip to the nearest store to restock his liquor supplies. despite trying to be as quick as he can, he's still a few minutes late in getting back in time. so when rogue knocks, he's only just making the trek back up the path that leads to the building.]

I'm here.

[he barely needs to raise his voice to be heard out here. it's a location he'd picked because of the solitude it provides. something that he needs these days. for every good day he has, there are at least double the amount that follows. so being away from the city center-- it helps.

the building is far from habitable inside, despite erik living there. he has the basics though, and that's enough for him. but he doubts that rogue will see it the same way.]

[At first she believed that the location he'd sent her was indeed incorrect, but as she walked further along the path Rogue more than understood. It's quiet and away from noisy population of the city, his own little Utopia where he likely wouldn't see anyone unless he wished that. She can't exactly blame him for wanting peace and privacy here, to have control over as much of his life as possible. It warms her to know he's shared the location of this place with her.

The house he picked for himself offers her a sense of comfort almost instantly. Rogue always enjoyed the peace of the country, of nature and the solitude. It nudges good childhood memories to the surface of playing in the creek and catching frogs to climbing trees and watching the lightning bugs float through the air, little living lights. There's a flicker of jealousy as she takes everything in, just barely missing the noise of his shoes on the path with the noise of her knock.

His voice causes her to turn, smiling at him before glancing around the property.]

This place is somethin' else Erik. [If he has more than one bag, she'll offer to help, either with the bag or the door.] Ah like it.

[Just wait until the inside disappoints and saddens her just as quickly.]

[the door stays resolutely closed, though he does hand over one of the bags he's holding; the one containing the alcohol (two bottles of whiskey) as opposed to the one holding a bag of ice. he doesn't have a freezer in the first place, and given the weather, he doubts rogue will be as willing to drink her whiskey straight as he is.]

It's a work in progress.

[and that is an understatement. the interior of the house is barely habitable. it has power, water, but that's about it. enough for a bathroom and a fridge, and little more in the way of household appliances. if it wasn't for the meager supply of food and personal effects, the building seems largely unlived in. the outside though--

he begins to make his way around the side of the house, pointedly ignoring the entrance. it's not that he's ashamed of the state its in, but given the conversation that's on the way, he doesn't want the distraction that it holds. not when the faint pounding in his head signals just what kind of state his bedroom would be in this morning.]

[The bag is handled with ease, though she does peer into it curiously to see what he chose to accompany their upcoming conversation, there's quiet approval reflected in her features for that decision at least. He'll be surprised at just how well she can handle her liquor. She's from the deep south, where bourbon or shine are often substituted for water.]

Ain't nothin' wrong with that, so long as you actually fix the sucker up.

[Rather than leave it in a dangerously, decrepit state out of neglect or self-punishment of some kind. His words indicate to her that she should prepare and steel herself against the interior, but she doesn't have time to linger on those thoughts when he starts walking around the house to what she assumes is another entrance. Her pace quickens to catch up, which isn't difficult considering her height, and her eyes finally shift over to him.]

You like animals?

[the question hits him harder than expected, his breath catching in a way that brings him to a halt as he tries to remember how to breathe again. it may only be an innocuous query; one with an obvious cause given the number of feeders dotted around the area. but to erik, it's a painful reminder of just why he's sequestered himself away this far from civilization.

forcing his eyes back open (he doesn't remember closing them), erik finally manages to let out a shaky breath, his voice cracking as he speaks. there's no way he's anywhere near capable of explaining everything to her, but he can at least offer up something.]

No. But my-- [wetting his lips, he tries his best to swallow around the lump in his throat. tries, and fails, leaving a hoarse croak in its wake.] --my daughter did.

[Rogue knows immediately that she's waded into dangerous waters, touched upon a subject that holds more weight than she expected. In fact, she had honestly tried to keep the conversation light until the opening of a bottle and the pouring of two drinks. His reaction took her by nearly as much surprise as the question had him, but she felt none of his emotional pain, at least not directly. However, she sure as hell hates seeing him like this, and while he might not be the Erik she knows, he's a friend to her here.

Her hand moves to his smooth up his back to settle on his shoulder on instinct, and she grips it gently at first, concern deeply etched over her features as she steps closer. His words rob the breath from her, hand tightening as she immediately draws negative conclusions from the past tense he uses.

It takes her a moment to find her own voice. She has no biological children of her own, but she's still a protective mother all the same. Her children are simply the young mutants in need of protection and guidance.]

Erik... Ah'm so sorry. Ah didn't know. [Another difference in universes. Part of her wishes to pull him into a hug, to comfort him properly for such a loss, but the rest of her knows better. Instead, she'd rather guide him to a place so they can properly crack open a bottle.]

Don't.

[the word comes out rougher than he'd like; misplaced anger being thrown in rogue's direction. he knows who's really to blame for her death. knows that he should have left magda alone. that, once nina was born, he should have run. if he hadn't have been there, then they wouldn't have tried to use his daughter against him. his family would still be alive.

(first his mother. then his wife, his daughter. who's next? who else has to die because of him?)

he pulls away from her grip without ceremony, continuing his trek towards the small clearing at the rear of the house as though nothing just happened. as far as he's concerned, it was a slip up, and something best ignored. he doesn't want to have to deal with it while someone else is around to see it.]

Wait here. I'll get the glasses.

[it's all he says before unlocking the door and heading in to find said glasses.]

[The harshness startles her, and she stiffens without recoiling, green eyes alert and focused on him, worried about the man she now considers a friend here. He's independent of the man she knows back home, but there's carryover in her heart and mind. Rogue hates seeing him this way, but she's also working quickly through the fact that he had a daughter who died young. Could this have been Wanda, or maybe Polaris?

It doesn't matter who, just that he's wrought with fresh pain due to the loss. She wants to help, desperately, but there's no fight when he pulls away. Pushing back when he's in one of these moods tends to drive him away more than help, and that's the last thing she desires.

Instead, her hand falls back by her side and she stands still a few moments to allow him a lead in distance, then she follows him with an easy pace, waiting where he requests. As he steps inside, her eyes do take in the clearing more fully, noting the beauty and peaceful nature of the area.]

eudio | ic inbox

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

i already know this thread will hurt me.

we will live in pain forever

every day

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject