you and i are helpless, falling like the leaves

[magnetic]

Who: Erik and Charles
What: MAN TALK
Where: Brock Marsh, by the river
When: later in the day on which Erik was bombarded by everything ever
Notes: there will be a lot of feelings
Warnings: none at this time

Though he is by all accounts a hot mess of emotions when he finally tears himself away from the cohort network, Erik uses the trip across the river to regain a measure of self-possession, and so he is steady, at least, by the time he reaches the bridge to Griss Twist. Autumn lends itself well to his mood, he finds. He breathes it deeply, appreciative of the chill, tasting wisps of wood smoke and the clarity of the river.

Charles is easy to recognize even at a distance, and likewise so is he; as soon as one of them catches sight of the other they will meet. Erik is, as ever, tall and lean in his overcoat, his flat cap pulled low to his eyes. Hands in his pockets. Posture slightly bowed. He does not smile.

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[cerebric.livejournal.com]

Charles knows better than to greet his friend with cheer. He too keeps his hands in his pockets, but instead of hunching toward the ground, he looks up when he faces his friend. Charles' eyes meet Erik's gaze, deliberately making the effort to see what the hat attempts to hide.

"Shall we go for a walk?" Erik was here because he wanted to talk. It would happen when the time was right and Charles isn't going to push.

[magnetic]

Though he doesn't avoid eye contact—he holds it readily, in fact, during his arrival and initial silence—Erik doesn't make it any easier to achieve. He looks tired. A little bloodshot, even. A walk was exactly what he had in mind, though, so he nods in acquiescence and turns to begin it, keeping to his usual familiar distance (which is to say, not terribly distant at all).

It does take a while, but if Charles is willing to endure some dead air, with only their footsteps and the city's ambience to fill the silence, it will pay off.

"What did they tell you?"

...Not the easiest question, by any means, but he's not quite ready to spill his own guts.

[cerebric.livejournal.com]

Silence is something Charles has grown accustomed to long ago. Though he is quite the talker in his own right, he has always found that he is most himself when surrounded by silence. It's the sound of a quiet night studying, libraries, and the understanding that lingers when two people know each other so well that words are unnecessary.

When Erik finally speaks, Charles knows exactly who he means by 'they', no telepathy needed. "Not much, I'm afraid, but it was all consistent. That people have seen what I'm like years from now and I'm still running our school, though it has expanded considerably." No one has told him the more difficult things yet, though he can tell there's something most have been hiding.

[magnetic]

Erik nods several times, brief and shallow, and continues to walk with his gaze fixed loosely on the ground ahead. This too is uncharacteristic of him, although the low and private timbre of his voice is not—and neither is the way he abruptly abandons this line of conversation, frankly, favouring the less uncomfortable of the two issues at hand (but only barely so).

They're going to reach the heart of it at some point, so he'd might as well just bypass the preamble and aim true, although it takes another good minute or so before the words will even come out. "Wanda's my daughter."

So...there's that.

[cerebric.livejournal.com]

"I've met Wanda," he confesses quietly, slipping both hands into the pockets of his coat. "I admit that I don't know her well and our conversation was short, but she's a remarkable woman."

Dignified, well spoken, no characteristics that Charles could yet see that would be viewed as negative. Though Erik may be surprised by their link, he has nothing to be ashamed of. "Did you know you had a child?" The question is asked quietly and carefully, with Charles giving Erik the option of pretending he hadn't heard.

[magnetic]

It's a difficult question, this one, for a whole host of reasons—he's not even sure what name might be given to the way he feels about any of it. Thankfully, no one has pressed him to do so. The last thing anyone needs is for Erik to be cornered on top of everything else.

"Not her," he says, to avoid the most sensitive subject of his lost little girl as gracefully as he can. "I didn't know about her... nor her brother. I don't think he's here." That's good, he thinks—though not at all for the reasons that would occur first to anyone familiar with Pietro's relationship with his father. Erik doesn't know for certain that the twins are his, but he desperately wants them to be, even if only in some bizarre cosmic way, and to imagine that even one of his kin might avoid being trapped in this city is...not comforting, exactly, but close enough.

"She has children too," he adds, very quietly, and looks to Charles then, perhaps to gauge his reaction, or perhaps just because. Either way, it's an oblique glance, seeming not terribly confident. The resolute dispassion of his face is beginning to soften; by now his eyebrows have lifted to a sad and curious angle, just faintly, the usual knot lines between them.

[cerebric.livejournal.com]

"She told me she had children as well," he replies. "Though she said nothing of her relation to you. Wanda said she knew me, but from another place in time." Charles wants to help his friend and tell Erik what he knows about the man's own child, but his own knowledge is quite limited.

He could answer the next question easily by looking into Erik's mind, but that's not what this is about. "Do you want to know them?" His voice is calm and even, carefully matched with Erik's chosen timbre.

[magnetic]

"Yes." That, at least, requires no thought to answer. "I do. Very much so."

Still forming a rather sullen silhouette as he walks, Erik kicks at one of those ubiquitous stones that always seem to find their way onto public walks. It clatters ahead enough to be kicked again; the next one sends it off the path entirely. "But those dreams haven't stopped since we came here." Yes. Dreams. Hideous nightmares, he means—they don't come every night, but more frequently than he's had to endure in a long time. "It's hard to want to smile. I don't..." Such a frown. "I just don't want them to think I'm not glad to have met them."

[cerebric.livejournal.com]

"My friend, they are family. If they want to know you, and I believe they do, then it won't be as you fear."

He watches the rock bounce across the pavement as they continue their steps, contemplating possible directions it may go before it veers off course. "This isn't something you are expected to do all at once, you know." As they walk he reaches his hand to rest against the middle of Erik's back for a moment, doing his best to give a reassurance that words cannot express. After they both take another step Charles returns his hand to his pocket.

[magnetic]

Short-lived though it may be, the contact helps. In fact, it prompts him to draw in a deep and full breath, and to let it slip finally as the long sigh he's sorely needed to breathe all day. He may not look terribly relaxed at present, but it's an improvement.

"I know." It would be very easy to keep the rest of this to himself—well, telepathy aside, anyway—but since he feels it should be obvious anyway, he goes on. "I don't like thinking of this, any of this, as a long-term situation. None of us should be here, least of all the children." This is the train of thought that's kept his brow perpetually furrowed thus far. And now he chooses to lift his head, finally, to give the lights around them a look that is decidedly less than friendly.

"This city is a prison. It may offer some luxury to its prisoners, but the fact is we're all being kept here and made to work. I don't know how anyone can stand it."

[cerebric.livejournal.com]

He doesn't argue. Erik is right, but it's important to use this knowledge in the most appropriate way possible, and Charles isn't sure what that means for himself, much less the city at large.

"I know. And I'm afraid I don't have the slightest idea how anyone leaves." He looks down, hair falling in front of his eyes in a manner similar to Erik using his hat as a shadow. "If you have any suggestions I welcome them gladly."

[magnetic]

Well, aren't they a pair.

"I wish I did." He's going to investigate the surrounding fog as soon as the chance arises, but that's not worth bringing up right now. There's no point in arguing about the potential danger beforehand, which he's certain would happen, because he'll go regardless. He's already decided.

So: "Keep moving up, I suppose, as much as possible. Become necessary. You'll be off to a good start with the university," he says, with a nod at the end, speaking softly. Not every influential position lies within a society's government, after all.

[cerebric.livejournal.com]

"I plan on it. I would like to start giving more public lectures if possible. Become a face that is familiar to more than just my students."

Of course if Erik has an answer for someone else he has probably given his own position plenty of thought. "And yourself?"