morethanhuman: to fit right in (we're painted red)
Erik Lehnsherr ([personal profile] morethanhuman) wrote in [community profile] all_inclusive2015-04-14 01:23 pm

choosing the impossible

In the dark, Erik ran, the sounds of skittering and and an eerie humming echoing, ambient, in the air around him. They didn't wear metal, any of them, except the ones who carried knives— but they didn't need knives to hurt, to kill. He'd seen that firsthand.

He rounded a corner into a long gallery space, one entire wall made of glass, an arresting view of the city's grandeur and the vastness of the ocean that surrounded it. Even after weeks of this, living in the half-light of flares and sputtering neon, it still caught at him— he was under water, miles from the sun or a breath of fresh air. Like the vastness of space outside his window on the Proserpina, the ocean was endless, and he was stuck in this tomb of a city trying like hell to find his way out. Looking out over the city with fish swimming like flocks of birds between the skyscrapers, Erik spared a thought to wish he could have visited it in its heyday.

Those seconds of distraction cost him. A splicer dropped in front of him, startling a shout from him as he reeled back, jerking himself out of reach as it swiped at him with something— not metal, glass perhaps?— he felt the pull on his upper arm, then the burn as the pain set in. Almost too fast to track, another one skittered out from the shadows, and Erik could hear the hyena laugh that signaled another wasn't far off. Fuck. Where was the goddamned door, anyway? He'd been working for an eternity to make his way back here, and he was so close—

"Find a better hiding place, monster," the one in front of him hissed, its teeth bared in an insane grin, and Erik didn't waste another second before lashing out. A cloud of slender blades hovered by his left shoulder like a wizard's familiar; his left hand shot out and the blades flew, zipping through the air like hornets to pierce the splicer's flesh, burrowing in and through and out, only to twist midair and come back for more.

Ignoring the screams, Erik gestured with his other hand to the hulking splicer advancing on him from the right. Lightning arced from his palm, tracing a parabola between him and his attacker, the purple light illuminating his own fierce satisfaction at the sight of the splicer writhing in agony. The swarm of blades finished their bloody work just in time for Erik to turn, wild-eyed, as the third splicer dropped to the ground behind him. His pulse was racing, the taste of ozone in his mouth, and he threw both his hands out in front of him, metal and electricity flying free.

Three splicers lay dead at his feet. His arm throbbing, blood seeping through his sweater, Erik reoriented himself and headed toward the bathysphere station. The door wasn't far— he'd be home before he knew it... as long as there were no more nasty surprises.


[Find him in Rapture during or after the splicers attack, or once he's come back through the door. He's singed and filthy and bleeding from a long cut on his left bicep. He's injected himself with the Electro Bolt plasmid, which gives him the ability to electrically charge or shock things at will. For those who see him regularly, he's been stuck in Rapture for over a month.]

[personal profile] aspeggysays 2015-04-15 06:08 pm (UTC)(link)
Peggy was walking down one of the hallways in the hotel when a door opened and a bit of war came through.

If anyone had asked, she wouldn't have been able to tell them exactly what she was reacting to. There was no obvious threat, just an exhausted man and an open door. Maybe it was the blood and dirt, maybe it was the smell of smoke and desperation. Maybe she'd been subconsciously expecting something dangerous to happen here. No place with so many doors to so many varied places could be as safe as this hotel seemed to be.

But one second she was walking down the hall as if she was safe, the next second she was crouching behind a service cart, her lovely new needler pointed half way between the man and the open door, not entirely sure which one was the threat. Or if there even was a threat.

Nothing more came through the door, so Peggy looked at the man. No immediate threat. But that cut...

"You'll want to have that looked at," Peggy said, automatically using her authoritative nurse voice, only slightly different from her authoritative general voice. "It probably needs stitches. Is anything dangerous going to come through that doorway?" Her needler never wavered.

[personal profile] aspeggysays 2015-05-09 09:30 pm (UTC)(link)
Peggy tensed, the aim of her gun shifting toward the cloud of metal as it formed. She didn't understand; she didn't need to understand, as long as she was ready to shoot, ready to duck, ready to act as the situation warranted. But nothing more happened, and the blades fell to the ground again.

Peggy waited a few seconds, alert for any further movement, either from mysteriously flying bits of metal or from the open door. But the metal remained inert and she saw no sign that the wounded man was wrong and the door might disgorge -- but she hadn't the slightest notion what that door might disgorge. She waited a few extra seconds on that thought, but when there was still nothing, she let out her breath and pushed the cart a few inches with her foot. She'd take the slightly better view, even with the trade-off of being slightly more exposed.

"You'll still want to get it looked at," Peggy said to the wounded man with a slight roll of her eyes for the tendency of men to downplay their wounds. The Howlers did that too.

"Are those yours?" she asked of the shards of metal on the floor. She might not know what was going on, but they'd hovered around him, so it seemed like a reasonable guess.

[personal profile] aspeggysays 2015-10-15 02:02 am (UTC)(link)
Peggy didn't relax completely just because the flying metal had been disposed of, but she did consider it to be a gesture of good will. And from what she'd observed, though it might be chaos through any of the doors, the hotel itself was at peace. She would have to get used to that, but meanwhile, she was the only one making a threat now.

She holstered her needler. Good will on both sides, she thought.

"There's a clinic," she told him, competent as always. She'd explored the hotel thoroughly, and checked the parts that seemed stable a couple of times since then, so she knew the location well. At least, as well as anything in this hotel.

"I'll show you," she decided. She knew she could find it, but she wasn't sure about giving directions. And the nurse in her wanted to make sure he actually got it looked after.
birthrightblack: (b&w; witch)

[personal profile] birthrightblack 2015-04-20 02:43 pm (UTC)(link)
Jaenelle has explored many of the doors but she hasn't been into this one yet. It's not exactly a friendly world but that isn't something that deters her; she grew up in Hell, more or less, and her uncle is the High Lord. A spooky atmosphere isn't going to run her off.

She's a little surprised to see Erik surrounded by three corpses, injured and, from the looks of it, worse for the wear.

"Erik? The door's this way," she says, nodding back toward where she came. "Do you think you can make it through before I heal you or should I try to make a web down here?"
birthrightblack: (wave; three quarters)

[personal profile] birthrightblack 2015-05-02 10:26 pm (UTC)(link)
"You have," Jaenelle confirms. "I wondered if you had disappeared entirely and then I found this door and found you." She looks back toward where her door was and decides that it's possibly best to push forward.

"We can go forward toward this bathysphere. Once we get out of here, you need to rest." Jaenelle's tone is stern because while Erik is an adult and a powerful one, from what she can tell, she's a Queen and a Healer. "Conserve your strength. I can handle things if we run into trouble."
birthrightblack: (Default)

[personal profile] birthrightblack 2015-05-08 05:16 pm (UTC)(link)

"If I had time, I would weave an illusion web to trap them in but anything I could do on the fly might be unpredictable and ineffective. We'll just keep trying to move forward," she says.

Jaenelle cocks her head and looks at his hand, admiring the haze. "How are you doing that, Erik?"

birthrightblack: (Default)

[personal profile] birthrightblack 2015-07-12 12:25 am (UTC)(link)

"You attack, I'll heal," Jaenelle decides. Healing comes much more naturally to her than any sort of combat magic and she thinks Erik is more than capable of handling himself when it comes to the latter. She's always been a Queen and a Healer first; it's only because of circumstances that she's learned to weave webs and make poisons. Jaenelle likes the excitement but not at the cost of friends, so she wants out sooner rather than later.

She moves behind him, adopting a defensive position. "Keep pressing forward?"

birthrightblack: (b&w; witch)

[personal profile] birthrightblack 2015-08-08 07:52 pm (UTC)(link)
"I made a web to look for you," Jaenelle says simply, as if this were the most mundane and practical answer a person could give. It was, in her mind, but she knows that her type of magic isn't very common in the Nexus. She hasn't met anyone else who is Blood.

"I found the door after I wove the web. It was sort of difficult, since I didn't have any of your blood to use as a focus."
hopeagain: (locks of love)

[personal profile] hopeagain 2015-05-06 12:27 am (UTC)(link)
The stillness of the house was something that even now, Charles was still getting used to. Odd, he thought, how when placed against nearly an entire life lived within these quiet mansion walls, less than a year's time could leave such an indelible imprint. Anyone who looked at him could see clearly enough that he was an entirely different creature from the man who had so naively started a school for the different, the gifted, the outcasts. And yet, there were still moments when his ear expected the clatter of footsteps and muffled laughter of students.

The bang of the front door was a gunshot in the thick autumn silence, startling enough that upstairs, the glass slipped from Charles' fingers and shattered on the parquet floor.

"HANK!" he yelled, shaking scotch from his fingers with a low curse, and then recalled that Hank was in the city for the day and wouldn't return until the morning.

Squinting against the afternoon sun, Charles stepped out to the landing and pushed the hair from his eyes.

"I'm afraid you've the wrong house, friend," he said, and paused on the stairs. His expression of mild curiosity fell instantly sober as his vision adjusted to the light.

"Oh, you bloody idiot," he spat once his throat opened enough to allow him to speak, opened shirt flapping behind him as he rushed down the remaining stairs and hurried barefoot past Erik to swing out the open door and stare wide-eyed at the overgrown expanse of the front drive.

"How long until the police arrive? Any idea at all, or did that part even occur to you?"
Edited 2015-05-06 00:33 (UTC)
hopeagain: (peter just wants pizza)

[personal profile] hopeagain 2015-06-24 09:56 pm (UTC)(link)
"Yes," Charles replied, his words quick and snappish, mouth setting into a terse line as he stepped back to stare at Erik. "Yes, for once you're absolutely bloody right, you are in the wrong place. Pity that didn't occur to you before you made the trip and brought the whole damned government down on our heads."

The impulse to throw a punch was acute, even with Erik seeming so winded and out of sorts, and Charles curled his fingers briefly into a white-knuckled fist before the urge passed and he shook them back out again. Outrage sang sharp and sweet through him, his prevailing thought that of how dare he: How dare he turn up here, how dare he mount an escape, how dare he exist in a space where Charles had to look at him. Beneath it all was the distinct knowledge that had it not been for that last meeting at the Nexus, years ago now, he would have swung.

"I don't suppose you've a plan," he bit out, throwing his arms angrily out. "If you think I'll hide you here, you're wrong."
hopeagain: (i will turn this car around)

[personal profile] hopeagain 2015-07-02 07:58 pm (UTC)(link)
"And you always were one for whatever was easier," Charles acidly replied with a low huff of indignation. Yet as outwardly offended as he was, he was glad that Erik couldn't stand to look at him, for fear he might suss out the truth from Charles' own evasive gaze.

Knowing that Erik's judgment was simply a matter of time only compounded Charles' agitation, and he spun, shirttails trailing after him as he strode dismissively into the next room. Keeping his back to Erik, he swiftly unstoppered a crystal bottle of scotch and nearly filled a rocks glass to the rim. He took a bracing sip, his eyes sliding closed with a low sigh.

I don't know how to explain this in a way that makes sense, Erik had said. I didn't mean to come here at all...

"Oh bloody hell," Charles muttered, and turned to look at Erik over his shoulder. "You've come from the Nexus."
hopeagain: (peter just wants pizza)

[personal profile] hopeagain 2015-07-16 09:57 pm (UTC)(link)
He did not want to do this. There was a great deal about the current state of the world which Charles was uncertain of, but on this much he was firm: He absolutely did not want to do this. He hadn't wanted to do it when he and Erik had met again the first time at the Nexus, and he most assuredly did not want to do it now.

And yet, here they were.

There was no angle to be found, no subtle manipulation he might glean from Erik's mind to steer the topic to something safer, less hurtful. There was just the plain fact of it, now: Another Erik, locked away for the rest of his life, and himself, as broken and ordinary as any human.

"Try another door," Charles suggested, turning away again to take another sip from his glass. "Maybe it will work and we can avoid this entire exercise."
hopeagain: (annoyed)

[personal profile] hopeagain 2015-08-10 02:41 am (UTC)(link)
There it was again, sharp as a slap in the face: How dare he. Charles wanted to physically shove Erik back, to reclaim the sacred bubble of his personal space and widen it, as wide as wide would go. This room, this house, this entire bloody state was his personal space, and Erik should never have been within it.

His mouth twisted bitterly, gaze fixed resolutely down as he settled his glass upon the dusty desktop, the shudder of the amber liquid betraying any calmness or control he might have hoped to project.

"Hank," he answered, and then looked up, his blue eyes hard chips of ice. "Now get out."
hopeagain: (peter just wants pizza)

[personal profile] hopeagain 2015-10-22 05:07 am (UTC)(link)
A scream crawled swiftly up Charles' throat, swallowed back only at the last moment and with considerable effort. Erik's air of casual superiority crawled across his skin like a physical thing, and here he was, the great wayward telepath, hamstrung because his lone adherent had taken the bloody day off.

It was all going to come out, he could see that now. He knew that look, that practiced easiness. But damn if he was going to give Erik the satisfaction of simply giving in.

"What a surprise that your word is utterly worthless yet again," he snapped, keenly aware of his own lack of composure as well as his inability to do much about it. He stoppered the decanter and gave it a hard shove so that it slid across the desktop. It shuddered to a stop with one crystal corner just off the edge, liquid sloshing, and pure luck that it didn't go over onto the floor.

"Make your own bloody drink. You're going to need it."

Ah, there it was. A breath of the upper hand, its dismal impetus slouching him into his desk chair, wrists laid across the arms and tumbler dangling loosely from his fingertips as he stared coolly back at Erik and arched his eyebrows.

"Here's how this is going to work," he said, each syllable perfectly crisp. "You don't get to ask me questions about myself. You forfeited that right long ago. Instead, I'm going to tell you all about you and exactly what you've been up to since you left me to die on that beach in Cuba. And then you're going to leave. Understood?"

He glanced to the decanter, and then back to Erik, waiting.