thisavrou_log | Papa was a rolling stone

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Papa was a rolling stone

Who: Erik Lehnsherr, Wanda Maximoff, Peter Maximoff, Rogue, Clara Oswald, Diana Prince, Charles Xavier
When: The month of December, very carefully planned that none of these are happening at the same time (he has a color-coded calendar)
Where: Various places around the station, see prompts.
What: Erik's personal life is a disaster that I am attempting to contain in one place. This log is for the various dates he has lined up, as well as spending time with his children. And fighting a demon with Charles.
Warnings: Not expecting any, will edit to include warnings if something happens.

I never got a chance to see him (Closed to Wanda)

[ It takes Erik a few days to recover from the shock of Peter's revelation. One thing he definitely needs to do is talk to Wanda. Her odd behavior, and strong reaction when he so grievously misinterpreted the cause, now made sense.

There were still murky waters to navigate. The fact that she had her own parents, even though Peter was his son and Peter's sister was Erik's daughter. That apparently her brother is not here. That there is some sort of dimensional shift that has changed things for her in ways Erik does not quite understand.

He wants too, though. Try to define the strange situation that has tied them together. It is perhaps a selfish impulse, though he is sure that if she tells him to leave her alone, he will do so. And so he goes looking for her, starting in the library because he had heard she might be there. ]

Never heard nothin' but bad things about him (closed to Peter)

[ One thing is clear, Peter needs to know more about Erik's side of the family. Possibly also his mother, as Erik is certain that she has not told Peter the truth about how or when they met.

But the more important thing is to tell him about his family, all that they have lost. The legacy only lives so long as there is somebody to remember it. And now there will be, once Erik is gone.

He goes to Peter's quarters, at a time they both agreed on, with a hard copy of information that he wants Peter to have, and the intention of not getting sidetracked. And the locket. Because the first thing he needs to tell him about is his sister. ]

Papa never was much on thinking (closed to Rogue)

[ Erik is still not sure whether or not this is a mistake. He knows his intentions are good. It has occurred to him that much of what he finds interesting in Rogue is what attracted him to Raven. And becoming physically intimate with Raven was a mistake, one he will not repeat. Clearly Rogue is searching for some kind of mentor, and if Erik can serve in that role, and serve as a voice of reason against whatever it is that Charles is teaching her, all the better.

They are meeting in his quarters, of course. He's not interested in dealing with the inevitable wild rumors that would spring up the instant any of the others saw them interacting. He's done what he can to make sure the lighting is comfortable but not in a way that could be described as "mood lighting". He has a pitcher of what he has been assured is a decent approximation of "sweet tea" in the refrigerator. He is not sure what Rogue intends to prepare, but he expects the tea will go well with it. As well as sweet tea goes with anything, anyway. ]

Spent most of his time chasing women and drinking (closed to Clara)

[ The truth of the matter is that risotto is not as difficult to make as it appears. The trick is to just keep stirring it, and most do not have the patience for it.

Erik is a patient man.

He's left the door open so that Clara can come in without him having to leave the stove. Along with the ingredients he's using, he was able to obtain a few new articles of clothing. A sweater, one that actually fits him and not Charles, in a nice dark maroon. A grey broadcloth shirt underneath, and khaki pants. And an apron over that at the moment, as he is not going to ruin his new clothes.

He hums quietly as he adds a ladle of stock to the rice and stirs vigorously. ]

I'm depending on you to tell me the truth (closed to Diana)

[ Erik didn't bring a chessboard with him, of course. He made one shortly after arrival. Inlaying different alloys to make the checkered pattern, forming various bits of scrap metal into the right color and a shape that he liked. He hadn't actually had time or opportunity to play anybody in the two months since he arrived, and so he is looking forward to teaching Diana.

She is an intelligent woman, and a strategic thinker. Once she picks up the basics he is certain she will quickly become a worthy opponent. He has set the board up in the greenery, on a small table with two chairs that probably wasn't intended to be used like a bistro set in the park. But it's peaceful there, and it is nice to be around the plants.

And if the taskbots get out of hand he can always just stick them to the floor until the cavalry arrives. ]

and that ain't right (closed to Charles)

[ The thing rattles inside the locker. Erik glares back at it, hand up, fingers splayed, keeping the door in place and a flashlight shining directly on it. He's not sure exactly what part of this setup is keeping it in place, so he keeps it all in place.

He flicks on the video call feature on his A.C.E. ]

Call Charles.

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[ His smile turns a bit sly. ]

It can be, can't it? When the situation calls for it.

[ He rubs his hands together, looking over the pieces, trying to decide where to start. ]

Now, the point of the game is to capture your opponent's king. And you do that when they have no moves they can make with their king to avoid capture. This is called a checkmate.

[ He points to the king on his side, then hers. ]

Each piece has a rank, and each rank has a different set of moves they can make.

[Diana props her elbows on the table so she might rest her chin on her fingers, interlocked beneath her chin. She's paying close attention to his words, eyes skimming over reach piece on the board. She nods along with him, and when he finishes speaking, she begins to point to each piece in turn.]

Yes, I see. Their positions are familiar. Raja, mantri, ratha, gaja, ashva, and a line of bhata. [A beat, and she looks up to him with a smile.] But that isn't what they're called anymore, is it?

[ He tilts his head and follows along as she points to the pieces and names them. His brow furrows in confusion. ]

I'm not sure what language that is, but the names I gave are what they are in English. Are you certain we're talking about different games? Maybe you already know how to play.

It's Prakrit. [Diana tilts her head slightly, looking from the board to him, and then back again. That is... quite possible. A lot of Amazonian knowledge had become outdated by 1917. She wouldn't be at all surprised if caturaṅga didn't exist at all anymore. It only makes her feel more sharply how out of touch she is with the modern world, and a slight flush finds her cheeks.] I might. Why don't we start, and you can tell me if I move incorrectly.

That seems a sensible way to handle things. [ Erik gestures toward her pieces. ] White has first move.

[ He is quiet at first as she chooses. He's watching to see what she does, but also mulling over the way she had blushed. It was charming, of course. He just couldn't figure out why it had happened. ]

Do you mind if I ask you something? [ His tone is gentle, curious. Perhaps a bit concerned. He certainly hadn't intended to make her uncomfortable ] Did I say something to make you feel self-conscious just now?

[After a brief pause to consider both her move and her next words, Diana moves a pawn two spaces forward, as is afforded on the first move of caturaṅga. She glances up for approval before finding her tongue and responding to his question.]

Themyscira is... isolated. No information from the outside world has reached it in millennia. [Her smile is wry, a little self-deprecating.] Until a few months ago, I had never seen a car. Never seen a gun. Never tasted ice cream.

[And how sweet that had been, but how spoiled by the sight of injured soldiers returning from the Front. She looks down to the board again, expectant for his move but also reflecting for herself.]

In all the time I've been alive, I've learned so much. But the smallest things still surprise me. It is... wonderfully humbling.

[ He raises one finger when she takes her first move. ] You may move a pawn two squares the first time it moves. Each subsequent move the pawn makes, it can only move one square.

[ He makes his move, using his hands. The one of the center pawns, two spaces. His eyebrows raise slightly at her claims of longevity. ]

I hope you forgive my impertinence. [ His lips curve in a wry smile. ] And I do not doubt you are quite worldly and experienced. But as I estimate that I am at least twenty years older than you, I would say there are still a few more novel experiences for you to have.

[She nods in acknowledgement of his explanation. Though she plans to wait a few moves to be certain, she's nearly convinced that chess is simply the same game she knows from Themyscira. That will make this much easier, as she can focus on their conversation rather than learning the basics of the game.

Brown eyes flick up to meet blue as he comments on his age, and she can't help but break into a grin. She's seen human women, knows roughly how old she must look to him and the rest of them. For a moment, Diana considers letting the matter drop, but dismisses it almost immediately. She'd promised herself she would be honest about anything he asked her. And though he hasn't posed it as a question, she takes it as an implication of one. The Amazon rests her elbow delicately on the edge of the table, cradling her chin in her palm.]

I think your estimate may be a bit off, so you are forgiven.

[ There is something in her smile that makes him curious. The way she smiles as if she is amused at some irony he hasn't quite caught on to yet. There has to be something to this, but the idea of asking a lady her age is so shocking to his sensibilities he can't quite get it out.

He leans back, smiling a little, too, as her grin is quite infectious. Apparently he must clear up this misconception again. At least by now it's starting to be flattering. ]

I am fifty-three. [ He can't as her what her age is, but he can state his. ] It's entirely possible I have three decades on you.

[Diana can nearly see the wheels turning in his mind. She wonders why he won't just come out and ask how old she is--all of her sisters, her aunt, and her mother were the same age, having been created when time was new to the earth. She is the only one of them who is different, who had been blessed to have a childhood instead of rising fully-grown from the ocean at Zeus' command.

Briefly, she wonders how her own childhood would compare to Erik's, or any mortal's.

Her smile does not fade, but she does straighten, pressing her fingers to her lips briefly in fake-shock.]

Fifty-three! I never would have guessed.

[Mostly because she has only a vague concept of how humans age.]

But I'm afraid you may be disappointed to know that I am your senior. By a rather large margin, actually. [She takes the time to move another pawn, one space this time, giving him time to process that before adding:] I was born nearly five thousand years ago.

Edited 2017-12-23 04:34 (UTC)

[ If Erik were to come right out and ask there's a very real chance the ghost of his mother will appear to cuff the back of his head before disappearing once more, and he is hoping that if they are ever to be reunited it will be under happier circumstances.

His lips purse slightly at her tone. ] There's no need to mock.

[ He arches and eyebrow when she claims to be older than him. Perhaps she's got some work done. Until she actually gives a number. ]

Y-years?

[She realizes now that the subject of her age has only come up once: in the forest with Shiro on Kaittos. But he had never asked for a number, and she had only shared that she was immortal. She was still the youngest Amazon by several thousand years, but as far as the mortals she'd met, Diana had simply never seen a reason to mention as much. Erik's reaction is what she should have expected, but had never had reason to consider. Shiro, after all, had offered nothing but understanding and comfort for the double-edged gift of longevity.

But Erik's halting response and his face make her think that perhaps she should not have been so blasé about it. A mild amount of panic sets in, and she puts her hands out in front of her, hovering over the board, uncertain if she should reach out to reassure him or not move at all. Her voice takes on a gentle tone, as one might use to sooth a frightened child.]

Yes. But I'm still considered young, compared to the rest of my people. Something like... [She has to think on this for a moment. Diana really has no concept of human age ranges.] Perhaps early thirties, were I human. [Diana has no idea if this will help him process this information or not.]

I... Well.

[ He lets out a breath and stops himself from talking as all he is capable of for the moment is stuttering astonishment. At least she's not considered a child. There is also some selfish reassurance in knowing that he is not, in fact, the oldest person on the station as he was beginning to fear. ]

And you spent the vast majority of that time on one island? [ He asks once he is capable of coherent thought again. ] That's remarkable. I imagine leaving it after so much time must have been quite daunting.

[He seems to be recovering, and she lets herself breathe easy again. That had gone better than she'd thought when she first saw his reaction at her age. Diana smiles, shaking her head slightly.]

You have no idea. I can't count the number of things that shocked me into speechlessness. [Her grin turns a bit impish, and she leans over the table towards him.] But do you know what the worst thing was?

[ He does have questions, of course. But they all range from the "probably rude" to "definitely rude" with a side of "It's entirely possible Diana doesn't know the answer and it's rude". Luckily, she steers the conversation in a direction away from the one he was headed for.

He leans forward as well, catching and returning her rather infectious grin. ]

The worst thing?

[ It would obviously be the war, but the way she's smiling it's unlikely what she means. ]

I can't imagine. Don't leave me in suspense too long.

[She is not so macabre as that, fortunately. Most of the time, Diana tries not to think about the war--but sometimes it is hard to avoid, especially at night. For now, she tries to bring levity to the situation, hoping it will distract him from his shock.]

The clothing. Long skirts and corsets, which were impossible to move in. Tall collars that choked me. It was torture. I don't know how your women did anything at all.

[ Oh, he is thoroughly distracted from his shock. And the game. And most things as visions of Diana wearing a corset drowned out nearly every other thought.

He blinks slowly as he regains the ability to speak. ]

Yes, well. I believe most women agreed with you. Fashions changed considerably, and corsets in particular all but disappeared not long after the war. Except for, ah, niche purposes.

[She doesn't notice his sudden silence as he collects himself, instead focusing on the board. But once he being speaking again, she raises a brow and snorts.]

That's the first bit of good news I've heard about the future since I got here. [She might be exaggerating a little, but not by much. But the last bit does catch her interest.] Niche purposes? I can't imagine any purpose for a corset.

[ The snort is so unladylike it actually helps him relax a little. The conversation has veered in a direction he did not expect and finding his way through without causing offense is wracking his nerves worse than the game.

Damn her. This couldn't be a tactic, could it?

He clears his throat as he makes his move. ]

Niche purposes as in... sex. [ Might as well be matter-of-fact about it. ] They're constructed a little differently than what you've seen, though. Different fabrics and colors slightly different shapes.

[ He keeps his focus on the board and does his best to ignore how his ears are getting hot. ]

[Amazons have always been a practical people, frank with their emotions and desires--sexual or otherwise. She does not yet notice how uncomfortable Erik appears. To her, this is just another conversation, another way for them to get to know one another.]

I can't imagine having sex in a corset, no matter what it's made of. There is no way someone could move properly in it without being terribly uncomfortable, which defeats the entire purpose. [She sounds entirely unfazed by this topic of discussion.]

[ This is fine. He can have this conversation without squirming like an embarrassed schoolboy. It's just information. He can focus on the game and answer questions. ]

Sometimes it is taken off for the actual act. The removal of elaborate undergarments can be part of foreplay. Sometimes it's left on, restriction is something that can be enjoyable.

[ He rests his chin in his hand, his finger pressed against his mouth as he studies the board and thinks only about the game. ]

I would pass on that, I think. I prefer moving freely.

[Finally, Diana spares him a glance, and sees the red of his ears and the pointed way he isn't looking at her. Something in her mind clicks, and she blinks a few times before leaning back slightly.]

Does this... would you rather talk about something else?

[ His careful distancing crumbles when the notion of Diana moving freely turns out to be difficult to dismiss. ]

Oh. [ He says blandly. ] Sometimes restriction can be interesting.

[ He shakes himself and looks up to see her looking concerned. ]

No, no it's fine. [ He clears his throat. ] I suppose I'm more accustomed to having conversations like this in, ah, preparation for... engaging.

[ Again, she has knocked him completely off-balance. He wants to be charming, to impress her. Instead he's so distracted he just let her capture his bishop. ]

[The strategic part of her mind has realized that this course of conversation is working in her favor as far as the game is concerned. He's playing badly, and not because she thinks he's unskilled. But the softer part of her is more powerful, and she thinks that maybe being so frank hadn't been a good idea.

But he continues to be so with her, so she can only respond in kind.]

Is it not typical to speak so openly about what one enjoys, whether or not there will be-- [She presses her lips together as she repeats his choice of word, trying not to laugh.] --engagement?

[ It is obvious that she not only has noticed his weakness but has decided to exploit it. He flicks his gaze up to her without lifting his head, rubbing his bottom lip with the side of his index finger as he looks back at the board.

There are many things Diana is ignorant of. Her desire to learn and unjaded nature can sometimes seem naïve. But she isn't. She's lived a hundred lifetimes, gone to war, loved and lost. And is definitely playing dirty with him.

He wonders how dirty she's willing to get. ]

No, I wouldn't say it's typical. [ He leans back and looks at her appraisingly. ] It is a bit forward, though.

Papa was a rolling stone

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