heavymetals | ( pixie led ) inbox

Whenever you want. Tomorrow is alright by me.

Yes!
Tomorrow, please.
Gracias

( she's gonna try to pet so many things she absolutely should not try to pet... it's going to be The Best. )

I will come find you in the morning, then.

( She still doesn't sleep very much; that hasn't changed since the day they met at the beach, and it isn't likely to any time soon. Now, at least, it's less because of the strange presence in her room — she's gotten used to her unusual roommate, she more or less trusts he isn't going to try to hurt her. But the nightmares exist regardless, and likely will until she finds a way to stop them or work through them.

It's alright; her body needs very little of it anyway.

It means that she's once again up and dressed and down in the common area far earlier than most of the adopted are even awake — this time, settled patiently at a table with her backpack open before her, a small stack of comic books splayed out. She's been rereading them now with the new context she has, trying to see if she can learn anything different now that she knows Erik and John.

She will wait here, patiently, for however long it takes for him to wake up and come looking. )

[ Erik doesn't really get much sleep himself, but he does get a decent few hours, enough to feel awake and in a decently good mood in the morning. He goes through a basic routine of getting ready before heading downstairs to the common area, sensing Laura's presence there before he even sees her sitting at that table.

He comes over with a small smile, looking at the collection of comics she's got spread out in front of her. ]

Good morning. [ He looks over the comics but doesn't pick any of them up. It might actually be for the best that he doesn't read them for now, he's learned far too much about alternate versions of him as it is already. ] Have you eaten anything yet?

( One of these days, she's going to have to get different reading material — she hasn't worked up to investigating the shelves of books, especially after accidentally overhearing that book club meeting about the centaur with a million wives and feeling immediately grossed out. When her curiosity gets the better of her, though, and she starts to explore, she'll branch out from the only stack of fiction she's ever had into new territory.

But not today. Today is for Petting Animals That Do Not Want To Be Pet, Probably.

Erik gets a wide, beaming smile — something very few people here can get from her — by way of greeting. )

Buenos dias.

( It's followed by a little shake of her head — she has not, yet. She's been too fixated on the animal part of this plan to remember to eat. )

[ Erik has spent quite a good amount of time in the library, finding little to no useful information there, but she'll certainly not lack in fictional stories at least. Maybe he'll find her a book next time, it just hasn't occurred to him to do it just yet. ]

Well, neither have I. How about we find something to eat before we go?

[ Grab something in the kitchen, Erik's not particular about sitting down for breakfast and she looks far too excited to want to waste her time with that. ]

( It's a good call — there's a flicker of indecision in her features, and she spends a second clearly torn between two choices. On the one hand, she's a feral little goblin with a metabolism that burns through ungodly amounts of calories thanks to her healing factor, and ever since she discovered food can taste better than it did in the facility she's been way too enthusiastic about it.

But on the other hand. That seems like it could take a while, and the longer they're in here the longer animals are going without pets, which is just criminal and cruel.

When she nods, it's only a little reluctantly, and it preempts her unceremoniously scooping up her comic books to stuff them into her backpack so they can go to the kitchen. )

[ He won't try to waste much time, but they do need to eat, and since he's the adult here, he's going to go ahead and make the responsible choice. The animals will still all be there for her to pet (or look from afar), so it's fine.

He waits until she's got her books in her backpack, then starts on their way out of the common area. The kitchen isn't far, and once there he starts looking for some items he can use. ]

Bread— sandwiches and fruit? Do you have something else you prefer?

[ If not, then sandwiches it is, with whatever he finds at hand. ]

( Sandwiches and fruit are good, because they're fast — this plan gets an enthusiastic nod from her. This is much better than cooking, the best of both worlds. She will leave him to the former, but the latter?

From the other side of the kitchen, at the counter with the fruit bowl, there is a soft snikt, and then the rush of something exceedingly sharp. A second later, she's mildly offering over an absurd pile of apple slices, pointedly ignoring the thin slivered lines of new cuts sliced directly into the counter top. Apparently it wasn't up to the task of being a cutting board for adamantium.

She's helping. It's faster. )

[ She's right in that the sandwiches are quick to put together, but even then he's nowhere nearly as quick as she is to cut up those pieces of fruit. He looks over as she offers the apple slices, eyebrows both arching and a smile creeping up to his lips. ]

You do realize the animals aren't going anywhere, yes?

[ Her excitement is admittedly endearing, though. He helps himself to one of the slices, giving the damaged counter a brief glance. It's fine, the Fae can probably just fix it with magic. ]

Have a seat. I'll bring you your sandwich.

[ It's not a suggestion, she's having her sandwich and a glass of milk before they leave. And also because Erik needs a coffee right now. ]

( If there was ever any question which side of the spectrum she falls more toward, weapon or child, it is swiftly answered with this: have a seat is met with the soft, disappointed sound of a raspberry blown through her lips. She begrudgingly trudges over to the kitchen table in the most classic put-upon child maneuver known to man, but at least she's listening.

From under her breath, a low, barely-audible mumble: )

Quizás los animales también quieran comer sándwiches.

( They are depriving the wildlife, like monsters. )

Edited (I always mean to put hover text translation and i always forget) 2025-02-14 19:45 (UTC)

[ Erik doesn't even look over, but he does smile wide, a quiet chuckle muttered under his breath. Soft though that mumble is, Erik still hears it, and while he says nothing right away, he speaks up once he's setting her sandwich down in front of her, along with a glass of milk. ]

Entonces llevaremos fruta para los animales. Para ti, un sándwich.

[ Don't think he doesn't understand you just because it's not his first language, Laura!

He's going to get himself a cup of coffee real quick while she eats, eating his own sandwich in the meantime. ]

( It isn't that she forgot, it's just- still such a surprise, a novelty, to hear that spoken back at her that she pauses for a second midway through sitting down. And then the motion resumes, and a little bit of the disappointment has faded from her features. Plus, they get to take fruit to feed the animals, so that's kind of even better than before.

Okay. This is fine, then. )

Gracias.

( Is the soft, automatic murmur when he sets the plate in front of her — not because they were especially keen on manners where she comes from, but because she's genuinely appreciative. That tends to happen when you can count on one hand the number of people who have done something like this for you before.

John had been joking about dadneto, but that's only because he doesn't know why it isn't funny.

When she eats her sandwich, it's with the fervor and gusto of someone raised without table manners or regular access to good food, not just because she's eager to feed apples to rabbits. )

[ She's surprisingly quick to listen, and he rewards her good behavior with a smile, though her poor manners at the table do leave a lot to be desired. Not that it surprises him, but it's also not the thing he's going to be focusing on right now. She's eating, that's what really matters.

He finishes his own sandwich, sipping on his coffee a little more slowly than she is at gobbling up her breakfast. After they're both finished eating and cleaning up, he puts some pieces of fruit and vegetables into a bag, as well as those apple slices so they can eat as they walk. ]

Are we ready?

( As though Erik even needs to ask; she's up and on her feet the second the words leave his mouth, shrugging her backpack onto her shoulders. She's still, reserved, she doesn't bounce on the balls of her feet the way another girl her age might otherwise do, but... it's a near thing. A very near thing, and the impatient energy radiating off of her is somehow still palpable.

Maybe it's the metal claws low-key vibrating with excitement on an atomic level or something. Probably not, but. Still, she is ready. She has been ready forever, and telegraphs as much with a quiet but enthusiastic nod. )

Si, por favor.

( She'll fall into step the moment he so much as indicates which direction they're going. )

[ Her excitement is apparent, at least to Erik, and he actually finds it endearing. He'll have to find some way to get her to rein in her excitement around actual wild animals, or else they won't be able to get anywhere near.

He heads out of the castle and onto the surrounding area, walking along the streets and past various houses, looking around. Pets don't seem incredibly common, but he has seen a few cats and dogs around here, so he keeps an eye out until he spots a kitten sitting on a roof, under the sunlight. ]

There. [ He points to it, looking at Laura. ] You'll see a few pets here, cats and dogs for the most part. Dogs are usually very friendly, if you'd like to pet one. They would love the attention.

( Has she been blind this whole time? Now that she knows, she realizes she can smell it — that she's been able to smell it, she just didn't realize what the smell was. But there it is, a little ball of furry black sprawled out lazily, relaxed and adorable and just out of reach from the people passing below.

She stares, lips parted gently, a subtle sort of disbelief on her otherwise stoic features. After a long moment spent wrapping her head around it, she whispers to him quietly: )

It's so small.

( They looked bigger in pictures; this one is tiny. How do they not get hurt at this size? They seem so fragile, and she is suddenly very concerned for it. )

[ There aren't a great many number of pets here, but there are a few, when one knows where to look. He expects that now she knows about it, she'll be paying more attention. Might even make some friends, who knows.

He smiles at what she says, of all things to focus on. ]

Cats are generally small creatures, and this one is still young. Dogs vary more in size.

[ He looks up to the cat again, pondering for a moment, then offers. ]

Do you want to see if it will let you pet it?

( This one is still young; she looks from him back to the cat, and catches herself before she asks — then why is it alone? There's a fierce twist in her chest, followed by the cool flood of quiet resignation. Young things are not entitled to parents, this is true in people, why would it not be true in cats?

But then comes the offer, and her eyes flash quickly to him. )

Si, please.

( Does he have a plan to get it down? If not, she could get herself onto the roof very easily... )

[ Well, it's young but not a baby. Besides, some animals are just different. But she doesn't ask, so Erik won't go into that. The cat seems to be perfectly safe and content on its own at least, enough that Erik thinks maybe an approach won't be unwelcome. ]

I can lift us up there, if you're fine with me carrying you.

[ Her just climbing onto the roof might actually spook the cat, but she's welcome to try that instead. ]

( She could parkour her way up there with very little effort, and perhaps that would be the nicer thing for her to do. But since he's offering, she is very interested to see just exactly how he would manage to carry her and climb onto the roof himself. She doesn't yet know that he can fly, and so all the mental images in her mind are very, very funny.

There's a certain wryness in her expression when she nods — with all the enthusiasm a girl her age could be expected to have when offered to be carried around by someone roughly dad-shaped. If he struggles, she will at least try very hard not to laugh at him... )

[ He really can't say how little girls feel about being carried around; the only frame of reference he has is Nina, and while she was only a little younger than Laura, she also was his daughter, so perhaps that was why she liked him holding her.

He manages to steer away from that thought as he reaches down to pick her up, hands under her arms, lifting her with ease. Once he has her in a safe grip, an arm curled around her back, he lifts off the ground in a slow, steady rise, magnetic fields pushing him up from the floor gradually until they're at level with the kitten lying on that ceiling.

He waits first to make sure she's alright with that twist, glancing over at her with a (admittedly mildly pleased) smile. ]

Cats can be difficult to befriend, [ He explains, his tone quiet so he doesn't scare the animal away. ] So you need to approach carefully. Get its attention first with a soft sound.

[ He clicks his tongue, just enough to get the animal to lift its head with a lazy meow, opening its large, round hazel eyes and fixing them on Erik. ]

( She barely adjusts to the novelty of being carried before they begin to rise; barely manages to weave her arms around his shoulders when she notices his feet leaving the ground, and her eyes go wide, snapping up to his face in pure, unfiltered surprise.

She knew about the metal, she didn't know he could fly. She feels like she has been uno-reversed in her anticipation to laugh at him. Now she's the clown.

She's so startled by this, she almost forgets about the cat for a second — too busy staring at him, baffled, once their feet touch the ground again.

But then he's clicking, and the kitten is meowing, and it's pure instinct for her to drop down into a crouch, to make herself smaller, less intimidating, more vulnerable to the curious, wary little cat. She flits her eyes between it and Erik, hesitant, afraid to move lest she scare it off and send it running. She will let him teach her — all she does is gently hold out a hand, fingers upturned in offering.

The cat rises to its feet gracefully, lazily stretching out its back with a sleepy arch. )

[ There's a small sense of satisfaction that he manages to surprise her, but he looks more pleased than he does smug, even smiling a little as he makes sure that she's not scared. Not that he thought she would be, but it doesn't hurt to be sure.

He stays still for a moment when the cat gets up, and once he's sure it's not just going to take off running, he kneels next to Laura. ]

You don't decide to pet a cat. It will let you pet it, or not. Because it needs to know it can trust you, so you need to prove yourself. Show it you're not going to cause them harm. Let it smell your hand.

[ She's already holding a hand out, so Erik just nods for her to move it closer, until the kitty can stretch its head and sniff at her fingertips. The animal's surprisingly quick to get closer to her, admittedly, but he just stays silent, until that sniff turns into a gentle headbutt, and the kitten rubs itself against her fingers. ]

Pet it now. Gently.

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→ 𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛

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