thisavrou_log | if i seem bleak, well you'd be correct

[ One of the points of remaining in the library for this meeting was that Pietro would have something to occupy his time while he waited for his guest. In theory, at least, that is what the stack of books on the table he's currently occupying are for — at least one on Savrii history, as recommended, along with a few technical-looking volumes and a dictionary — but in practice, what happens is he checks the exits (twice, in quick succession), and tells himself this is not a trap, that no one is looking for him here, that he was careful. (He wasn't very careful.)

He tells himself not to get his hopes up, anyway; certainly this person gave the impression of being non-human, and smart, and well-read, and multilingual, and all-around better company than Toad or Mastermind or being trapped under a bunch of rubble with that idiot Cyclops for hours, but that doesn't mean anything really.

He doesn't get much reading done. ]

[kurt had tossed around the idea of answering the text message, but why do that when he could go and meet the other mutant in person? especially when he has no tasks keeping him held up.

entering the library always has a bittersweet effect; he loves having all this reading material, but the blue boy feels like he'll never have enough time to get through all he wants. that, and the fact most of the material didn't give him many answers when they first arrived on avagi. a bit of a letdown, he supposes, though not the end of the world.

he bamfs into the room just inside the doorway, stepping from the already dissipating midnight-colored haze, golden irises darting this way and that.] Hello? [he asks, tail flicking with anxiety. please, don't let him have waltzed into a trap.]

[ The strangeness of the noise is enough to catch Pietro's attention, even if it isn't particularly loud. A shock of white hair peeks out from behind one of stacks, before the rest of him comes into view, conservatively dressed and otherwise almost (but not quite) human-passing.

Kurt, on the other hand, is. sort of incredible-looking. Pietro doesn't want to stare -- he certainly doesn't appreciate it when anyone stares at him, but he can't help but at least pause, eyes alight with wonder for the space of a breath, before relief breaks across his features. ]

Hello.

[ Possibly, he should have considered before this moment what he wanted to say to the other boy. ]

Did you just-- [ What? Appear in a puff of smoke? That sounds ridiculous. ] You arrived very suddenly.

[the sudden spot of white in his peripheral makes him turn, iridescent eyes dilating with surprise. pietro could easily pass for human, if not for that ivory-colored hair, which isn't actually abnormal, unless it's on someone around his own age. idly, he considers the other boy's mutation, wondering if the peculiar shade has anything to do with it.

to be fair, it's an equal bit of staring between them before kurt grins and moves closer, both hands sliding into the pockets of his oversized hoodie.] Teleporting has it's advantages.

[not as absurd as it may seem, pietro.]

Are you my network student? [his smile widens when he inquires, the heart-shaped end of his tail flicking expectantly.]

[ After Flynn's announcement, once Pietro is done rolling his eyes at the idea of being neighborly, his first step is to find Wanda. His sister is the one he's always brought his thoughts to, whose opinion he cares more about than anyone else's on this station (and certainly more than anyone's on that broadcast), but more than that, Flynn said Wanda was involved in the discovery. How, he doesn't have any clear idea of, but then, her powers have always been a bit of a mystery, even to him. ]

More strangers to try to kill us. Fantastic, [ he complains, settling onto the couch beside her when he finds her, his ACE still lit with Flynn's image. ] You worked with him on this?

[Wanda's wrapped up in a blanket, definitely having second thoughts. Now there can be no more hiding. Everyone knows. And Mother is out there, and she isn't supposed to tell anyone, and it's so hard.

Except obviously Pietro - any Pietro - doesn't count. This isn't the kind of secret that would protect him.]

I want to hope they are like us. If they are descendants of the Savrii they we will probably have to fight them.

[She sighs.] We needed to know who else was here. I remember this place before Mother destroyed it - we are only in a tiny piece.

[ She looks worse than Pietro had been expecting, and his own bravado drops from him like leaves in answer, his bearing softening. ]

You do the hoping, let me do the worrying, [ he says, affectionate, but the request betrays his own worry, too — that she's taking too much onto herself right now. He wants to help carry what she's carrying, the way he and his Wanda do for each other, but he's still learning the shape of their relationship, what helps her instead of just the Wanda he's known his whole life. Still, he drops his off-hand easily to the couch between them, palm up, an offer if she wants it. ]

Whatever the danger, it is better to know it's there, yes? Are there preparations we can make, if it is the Savrii?

[She takes his hand without hesitation, squeezes it, and sighs. It's a desperately-needed grounding point.]

We need to know if they still have Intermediaries. They were...like Charles and me, but different. Stronger in some ways. They can make you do what they say or not want to fight them, and neither of us knew they had changed our memories.

But...they are not the worst thing I saw. [She looks up at him now, and there's real fear in her eyes.] What do you know about Mother?

[ Really, are mind-controlling, memory-altering aliens are not the worst thing, because Pietro is sufficiently alarmed by that possibility, but the look in her eyes makes him stow it, for now. ]

I know that it is a dangerous entity in another part of the station, the rest was– ambiguous.

[ He got distracted by his own paranoia and forgot to ask. 'Ambiguous.' Same thing. ]

[ Pietro Maximoff is not an electrician. In fact, getting by without electricity at all would be more firmly within his skill set than this, prying open light fixtures and smooth wall panels to peer at what looks more to him like a tangle of yarn than a cohesive electrical system. But they are in space, and he imagines electricity is important for things like light and heat and opening doors and keeping their airlocks sealed, and he can't do nothing.

Although doing nothing might have been a better idea, if the still-smoking singe on his sleeve when he makes his way into the workshop is any indication. Anyway. That's probably fine. He'll fix it. Just as soon as he figures out how to fix it — and has the right tools. They keep tools in here, don't they?

When Pietro sees who else is in the workshop, he nearly forgets all about the electricity. The other man looks different without the helmet, and with his hair dyed (dyed? honestly?), and it's almost enough to make Pietro doubt this is the same man at all. Infinite universes intersect here. Wanda hadn't mentioned him — and why would she neglect to mention someone who held such sway over them both? Pietro's weight shifts to the balls of his feet, the rest of him straightening like a pulled string in preparation to bolt. ]

...Could you pass that wrench? [ he asks instead, testing. ]

[ The flooding has finally been brought under control, Erik has some time to work on the club again. He still isn't quite satisfied with the furniture, a problem that is likely to persist so long as he still lacks materials other than scrap metal. Still. There has to be some way to make it less severe.

He could do this in the room that is eventually going to be the club, but he tries to do what he can in the workshop, in case any of the young people who haunt the place show up and need some guidance on their own projects. He looks up when the young man speaks. He doesn't recognize him, though the accent does sound familiar. Like Wanda's. And with the hair some things fall into place.

His mouth curves slightly in what passes for a welcoming smile from him. ]

Of course.

[ He lifts his hand and sends it floating over. ]

[ Welcoming is not an expression Pietro can recall ever seeing on the Magneto he knows. Something similar directed at Wanda, perhaps, but not at him, never at him. The modicum of warmth in it taps at his armor like the world's thinest ice pick, finding a weak spot between the ribs, and he wants to tell himself this is someone else altogether, no relation to the man whose approval he had been so painfully naive as to want, but there is a wrench sailing toward him that says differently.

He catches it, metal to palm. There's no surprise on his face. Nothing settles in his bearing, either, but there's a certain vulnerability to his wariness now, a kit preparing to run on a twisted limb. ]

I was not aware you were here, [ he says levelly, as if he might have done things very differently if he had known. Like not running into Erik at all, or at least deciding how to feel about it before he did. Instead, this. ]

Are you from the same place as Wanda? The same-- world?

[ The question comes with all manner of assumptions, that Erik even knows Wanda, that Erik knows him (maybe he doesn't, maybe that's why he isn't unhappy to see Pietro), and that their relationship is even remotely the same in whatever universe this man comes from, but similarities are easier to imagine than differences, and Pietro has always been the type to jump to conclusions. ]

If you prefer to work quietly, that does not bother me.

[ Pietro regards him warily. None of the nervous energy that Peter had around him whenever they spoke, particularly before Peter told him the truth. Erik's expression turns thoughtful as he looks at him. He's about the same age as Peter was when Erik first met him, and yet they are so different. ]

I am not from the same world as Wanda, no. There are no mutants there, from what I understand. [ He smirks. ] Sounds terrible, if you ask me.

[ Pietro lifts a brow, resigned. He would prefer not to work here at all, to be honest, but the Magneto he knows is enough of an unknown variable; this one doubly so. He tells himself it's only sensible to get a handle on him now, and that staying has nothing to do with the way the absence of hostility in the other man's tone makes him feel twisted up inside.

No mutants is another detail Wanda neglected to mention. He'll have to ask her later. ]

I imagine it does. [ Sound terrible to Erik, that is. ] What else would you do with yourself, after all.

[ The words are clipped, and not especially charitable. Imagine Magneto without a war to fight. ]

You do know her, though. My sister. [ Alternate universe or no. ] How?

[ Erik doesn't miss the note of disdain in Pietro's voice, but declines to take the bait. This time, at least. Instead, he grows thoughtful. ]

I wonder if there's any world out there that's the reverse. No humans, only mutants? What would we be if we didn't have to fight for our very survival.

[ He is brought out of his reverie by the question. ] Hm? Oh yes. She's been here far longer than I have. Lovely girl.

[ Happier, Pietro thinks but doesn't say, caught for a moment on that same thought. Even he can't pick apart that fantasy, of a life that isn't constantly under threat. Something softens painfully beneath his layers of posturing, but the corner of his mouth pinches, too, like he's equally annoyed at the dissipation of his anger. Anger is easier. ]

You have only known her here, then, [ is sighed, part question and part acceptance. He flips the wrench in hand, finally moving toward a work bench. ] I think perhaps things are very different between our worlds.

Her mother and I are estranged. Have been for some time, unfortunately.

[ That was the simplest explanation. And Erik didn't imagine Pietro was terribly interested in hearing the minutiae of that particular breakup, anyway. ]

Are there mutants where you are from?

[ This intersection of realities was difficult to navigate. But Peter and Erik had been from the same world. Perhaps this was Wanda's Pietro after all. ]

[ Pietro's gaze slides slowly back over to the other man with the sort of faintly incredulous look one gets when someone has just casually insulted your mother. Estranged from what, exactly, are you implying? But Erik doesn't look like he thinks he's said anything untoward at all. ]

That is what you— what he tells us we are, at any rate.

[ So, there are not many of them, not enough for the general public to be aware of what they are — not enough for a pair of scared preteens have any idea what sort of monsters they'd suddenly become, until Magneto told them. ]

Our mother did not have any sort of relationship with Magneto, estranged or otherwise. He only waltzed into our lives a few years ago. Our parents were gone long before that.

[ And yet, he sounds as much like he's trying to convince himself as Erik. ]

if i seem bleak, well you'd be correct

library, for kurt;

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wanda;

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workshop, erik;

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