thisavrou_log | Tired of Fighting

Who: Erik Lehnsherr and Charles Xavier
When: Backdated to mid-December
Where: Chemistry labs, near the workshop
What: How do you reconcile without admitting you want to reconcile? Try giving somebody an elaborate gift and do your best to not actually talk to them!
Warnings: Maybe some passive aggressive snark.

[ Erik could have texted, of course. He probably should. Paper is scarce, and using one sheet to write the note and another to make an envelope is an extraordinary extravagance. And one that Charles will most likely not appreciate, if he even recognizes it as such.

But texting is such a juvenile form of communication, he can't bring himself to do it. Not for something important.

The note itself is not lengthy or eloquently written. And he makes no effort to disguise his handwriting, the letters as precise and exacting as when he's drafting. ]

Charles

Please report to lab 3C at your earliest convenience.

[ He does not sign it, but does include a helpful map to make it clear which lab he is referring to. He then labels the outside of the envelope: Charles Xavier and leaves it on the desk in his classroom. ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ Charles, in running a school, is more than aware of their woeful lack of supplies. He'd been able to mitigate this to a degree during the last time the Ingress energy had bothered to resurface, but that can't last forever. Other resources on the ship may be set up in a way that makes them more self-sustaining, but even if they were to convert part of the greenery to the manufacture of luxuries like this, it's certainly not something that will be ready in any vicinity of "soon," nor would that make it any less of an extravagant expenditure.

He never thought he'd see a day when paper was such a scarce commodity that finding it used like this earns a heavy sigh, but here they are, and here's the expression all the same. He can't help the roll of his eyes at it either, not when they have perfectly valid means of communication without it.

Still, he takes the letter and the included map with him, tracking down the adjacent lab. And as he approaches, he calls out in a tired voice: ]

If this is another demon, I'm leaving you to it.

[ Erik's plan had been to simply lurk near the lab in case there was any sort of problem with what he had built, but not actually say anything to Charles unless it was necessary. He had begun the project long before the latest argument, and the timing now turned it into some sort of penance offering. Which it is not. The simplest way out of this, to him, would have been if the exchange had gone wordlessly. Preferably without Charles even seeing him.

Of course it didn't work. ]

It's not a demon.

[ He says flatly, not quite emerging from the shadow he was lurking in. ]

Just go inside. [ So he can leave. ]

[ Unfortunately, a gesture only means so much without context, and little of this is doing anything to soothe Charles' continued irritation. He's begged for when he's useful--see: the demon incident--and shoved away when he isn't, all with the implication that even a simple suggestion is a flat out order or that any help he does get is forced. Coerced. It hits somewhere deep, between fear and offense, and it hasn't settled since. He shouldn't let it stew like this, but as far as he's concerned, this isn't his apology to give. Not this time.

He sighs loudly, glance moving over with a tired stare to those obfuscating shadows. ]

And not know what I'm reporting in for?

[ Now who's giving orders? ]

Erik, what is going on?

[ Erik's jaw tightens. There are a number of snappish comebacks he could make but for once, he refrains.

The note had said please, after all.

He pushes off of the wall with a sigh and saunters over to push the button to open the door, because he'll be damned if he hurries. There is a clunking sound as the magnetic seals disengage and the doors open with a hiss to reveal the fruit of Erik's latest labor.

The room has been converted into an approximation of the Cerebro on Earth. Their Earth, anyway. It's not nearly as big. It doesn't need to be, which is why Erik chose one of the smaller labs to construct it. Hank's Cerebro was designed to allow Charles to access every soul on Earth, after all. This version only needs to have enough range to cover the station.

The panels are hexagons, not rectangles. (Because it makes more sense that way, Hank.) Giving the interior wall a much more elegant curve. The control panel is simplified, though there are more options. There are no aliens on their Earth, after all. Or at least Hank has not needed to add an option for focusing on non-human intelligence. Because of the reduced size in geography and population, the power and data streams are also reduced. Which means that the helmet has been reduced, streamlined, and minimized into something that does not mimic Erik's personal helmet at all, but is unmistakably his aesthetic.

He kept the blue lights. ]

Not all surprises are bad.

[ Charles honestly sits agape for a long moment. Of course, he recognizes it immediately despite the updates and aesthetic differences, but it takes time for his mind to properly process that it's actually been done. But he doesn't venture in. Not quite yet. ]

How long have you been working on this?

[ Erik grits his teeth in frustration. It's not booby-trapped. ]

I had the idea not long after arrival. I needed to make the workshop first. And then when Nihlus had the seminar I learned more about his fabricator, which is when I began work on it in earnest. So close to two months.

[ He crosses his arms and leans against the doorway. ]

If you don't plan to use it, I'll just break down the materials and use them for other things.

[ He keeps his tone even and doesn't meet Charles' eye. Totally casual. Like it wouldn't be a big deal. ]

Tired of Fighting

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