no sense in wasting your time.

[hexing]

Who: Wanda, Remy, and Erik.
What: HI DAD WHAT'S GOING ON TOTALLY NOT MAKING SURE YOU HAVEN'T FORMED THE BROTHERHOOD OR ANYTHING
Where: The Inn!
When: Thursday
Notes: None atm.
Warnings: TBA.

During the journey from their little house in Abrogate Green to the Inn, Remy and Wanda had plenty of time to compose a 'plan of attack' for this meeting--but Wanda knows full well that no matter what they plan, she'll still lose a tiny bit of her grip on things around this young iteration of Magneto. Her desire to check up on him is as founded in the worry he'll start to do something dangerous--dangerous for everyone--as it is general concern for his well-being.

All in all, it is always complicated with this family. So she's glad she brought food (her home cooking, Transian Romani style) and Remy both. When she turns up at the Inn, she inquires as to the floor and room Erik is on, and heads up there.

Comments

[magnetic]

Unaware that he's about to receive guests, Erik has already taken to settling down for the evening. While familiar company calms him significantly, perhaps more so than anything else, he's taken to spending time alone lately—or at least among crowds of strangers, which is more or less the same—and so has had plenty of time to think. And overthink. And dwell. Right now, however, he's making the conscious effort to do otherwise, by literally kicking up his feet, slouching boyishly on the unfairly comfortable sofa that came with his room, and trying to become invested in this novel he picked up some days ago. It's about a thief, or something. He's not sure how he feels about it yet... and this decision must wait for another time, apparently, as there's a knock.

From the hallway, it's clear he's not standing right there on the other side of the door when he asks, flatly, "Who's there?"

[bangyoudead.livejournal.com]

Since discussing Magneto that night when he and Wanda first spoke, Remy's felt better about the situation - he still mostly wants to launch the guy into space without an oxygen tank, but it still has very little to do with his politics. It's that concern Wanda has, and what someone like Erik can do with even an inch.

That's not why he answers, "Avon calling!" though. That's just because he's Like This. And it's not like his voice (and the muffled 'ow!' at the end there) doesn't give him away immediately, anyway.

[hexing]

Also telling as to who it might be is the faint but audible sigh, and the fondness in it. Wanda rebukes Remy non-verbally with a bit of playfulness that suggests she doesn't really mind much, and raises her voice so Erik can hear.

"It's Wanda and Remy. I'm sorry we didn't call first, but it was sort of an impulse visit."

[magnetic]

Oh.

"Just a moment..."

Fortunately, Erik keeps a tidy room and is thus spared the indignity of having to rush around like an idiot trying to make the place presentable. All he must do is set his book on the table, stand up from the sofa and cross the room to the door. Easy. See, here he goes.
He's going now. Really. Any time.
...Erik. Erik, go.

It's habit, not the desire to impress anyone, that has the security chain slipping free of its track and the deadbolt snapping open before he reaches the door—but he does turn its handle the old-fashioned way, and is revealed at last as it swings open to his shoulder, looking...perhaps unexpectedly casual. If either of them have ever wanted to see Magneto in lounge pants, their dreams have just come true.

"No need to apologise," he says, gracefully sidestepping past the ever-so-articulate 'hi' that initially popped into his head. "It's a welcome surprise." A nod to Remy includes him in this sentiment.

[bangyoudead.livejournal.com]

It was a burning desire, let me tell you - okay, no, but the fact that Erik merely opens the door, and there's no ominous creak or lightning crackling in the distance, no harsh shadows falling to cast an eerie light over them, is helpful. Remy does not expect this, no, but he's had his fair share of moments observing Magneto cackling maniacally into the night. One never knows.

Remy is all polite smiles when the door opens (suppressing something a bit more mischievous in Wanda's direction, but that's... typical), and raises a hand in greeting. "Salut, homme. Place still treatin' you decent?"

[hexing]

Wanda lifts the tupperware of foodstuffs she's brought along with her, smiling at Erik. This is awkward--it's probably always going to be a little awkward--but she does a good job concealing most of it, and she does suppose that with some exposure, some of the uncertainty can get smoothed out.

"You may want to try to get used to this, I'm afraid," she says, conversational, "I'm terrible about phones. But I always come bearing gifts."

[magnetic]

"More or less," he says in answer to Remy—perhaps suggesting that he hates it here, but what can anyone do about it currently—before the revelation that this container of food is, in fact, for him effectively derails that miserable train of thought. It's been actual years since anyone has made such a neighbourly gesture.

"You didn't have to do that..." And yet. "But thank you." Awkward just about covers this, yes, until Erik casts a quick glance over his shoulder, opens the door and stands aside for the pair of them. "Please."

Please, step into his small and spartan residence. He's lived here since his arrival, but its ambience remains that of a hotel room and nothing more.

[bangyoudead.livejournal.com]

(Well he could move, but... he'd still be in the city, unable to leave. Make the most of your options anyway, man.)

Remy's smile is parts pleasant and parts wryly appreciating the awkwardness of this in good humor. Yes, hi Dad! This isn't totally weird or anything. He steps inside after Wanda, and does not remark that Erik could use a house plant. Somehow.

[hexing]

"Please, of course I did," she says, breezing her way into the aforementioned spartan residence. Its styling doesn't really surprise her, somehow--it's not what she'd expect from her father at home, no, but this version, it makes sense.

"Do you know how rare it is to find anyone in this city who will appreciate what comes from my home country?" Wanda smiles at Erik. "Besides this one, of course." And she tilts her head sideways at Remy. "Manró le smetanása, pirógo le strugurlása...I wanted to make something with lamb, but it's hard to find in the market right now. Where should I put this?"

[magnetic]

He doesn't need a plant. Plants require caring and he has none to give! ...No, okay, he'll totally get a plant some day.

"Right there's fine." On the table, he means—or the counter, if she has drifted closer to that tiny kitchen-like area in the meantime. "Lamb or no, I'm sure it's terrific." He'll have to eat it later in case the flavours make him tear up from nostalgia or some other ridiculous thing. God, he's a mess lately... but right now, here in his room, he's just closing the door behind his guests and trying not to look too thrown off by their sudden presence.

...All right. He has to look, at least—and so he pries at one of the lids once Wanda has left her gifts, lifting the plastic mostly away and leaning to peer at the layered noodles, tall and so lean but sort of boyish all the same. After a moment he looks over to Remy, brows raised. "Have you ever tried this?" Because it's amazing.

[bangyoudead.livejournal.com]

The picture the three of them paint is surreal: Remy and Wanda, standing next to each other in a vision of cheerful domestic support, observing her father (who is younger than they are) peering at Tupperware-encased food like an excited child. For a moment, Remy wonders what this might look like to an outside observer who knew all of them - envisioned reactions range from hysterical laughter to sheer soul-gripping terror.

C'est la vie.

"I have, yeah." Grinning. "We switch off when I get home early enough, but I tell you whose leftovers vanish quicker." Hers. He glances to Wanda, still smiling, because - look, he likes their life together, even stupidly mundane stuff like cooking dinner. "You're luckin' out, I'm significantly less graceful workin' with substitutions."

... Not that you're supposed to ask what's in any given jambalaya recipe anyway, but that is irrelevant to the topic of Wanda's cooking being fucking awesome (which it is).