[ Look, if Erik has a choice, he'd rather have loose leaf too, but he's not about to complain either way. Just getting to enjoy a hot cup of tea in a place like this feels like a luxury in itself.
He nods and sets out to take off his sweater, pulling it over his head and resting it on his own lap. There's a patch over the wound and he peels that off too, so she can get a full view of the injury left behind there. The reddened and still sore skin around the mostly closed gash, the marks left behind by the fairly decent stitching. There is a trace of blood, dried, but nothing that's even worth noting. Erik moves slower because it still feels a little sore, but it's not necessarily painful. Still, it's obvious that it was a pretty nasty injury. ]
You'll know if it does.
[ She can feel what he feels, after all. There would be no point in him trying to hide it from her. ]
( that is true, that she could feel what he feels, but she wouldn't want to assume what his pain tolerance is like. this is trust, though, and wanda takes it for what it is—reassurance that she could not really do him any harm. the injury doesn't look too bad, having been tended to, but it's definitely a sore, ugly thing.
closing her eyes, to center herself, wanda does her utmost to focus herself. what she had felt, thought, done last time; she wanted her powers to heal, to fix it, and they had done just that. it had been a desperate moment, to be fair, and right now is a lot calmer and erik isn't at risk of bleeding out, but the fundamentals should remain. wanda opens her eyes, glowing red, raises her hand, and lets plumes of scarlet flow from her fingers, onto his shoulder, towards the injury. it stretches over the injury, pushing past, through skin, and lingering.
genuinely, she can't imagine what she is doing is in any way medically accurate, but she pictures a knife wound in the same way that she pictures cutting through raw chicken. the way the sharp blade cuts through muscle, sinew, breaks it apart; she imagines the blood that must have flowed out, through. in her mind, she also pictures accidentally cutting her fingers with a knife, how the cut stings, and imagines then the opposite—muscles stringing themselves back together, slowly, little by little, removing injury and pain.
wanda pulls back from her focus, swallowing hard, gasping for a deep inhale of air. her eyes return to the stitched wound and notices that it's not an angry red anymore. )
I did it.
( she says softly, almost surprised. it hadn't been a fluke, then? she draws back, but moves her fingers about delicately, doing him the favour of removing the stitching from his healed skin. there may yet be some scarring—it's not the perfect job—but it's decidedly better.
wanda looks up at him, once she's done, stitching thread in her hand. )
[ Well, that's an easy one. She knows the things he's been through in his life, the places he's been forced to survive. Even if she doesn't fully master this new ability of hers, there's no miscalculation or slip-up on her part that could cause him too much pain. She'd have to make a real, conscious effort to actually make it too much for him to bear.
That said, nothing about it feels at all painful. Strange, maybe, uncomfortable only in the way that he can feel the muscles being stitched back together, but something else happens that quickly takes his mind off it. More than feeling the healing process, he can sense her powers course through him. A red heat in his veins, making his heart speed up just a hint, a blur in his vision that he can't explain. His eyes stay on her, watching what she's doing, unaware of the vaguest flicker of red that passes through his own eyes.
He can't actually reach that power, obviously. Can't wield it like she does. But it's an odd feeling, and he can't explain if it's because of her using those powers on him, or an extension of the bond they share. He remembers Laura mentioning something like it.
He looks from her hands to what he can see of his own shoulder, and finally moves his arm to check. His right hand presses into the spot, and he hums in approval. ]
Good as new. [ Aside from the light scarring, but compared to the numbers tattooed onto the inside of his left arm, it really is nothing. ] That was remarkable.
( wanda didn't get tired this time around, and she wonders if it's because it's not so new an element of her power anymore, or if the wound wasn't as critical. when erik tells her that he feels good as new, wanda nods, getting up to throw the stitching thread into the trash in the kitchen.
she returns to him with a damp kitchen towel, which she uses to gently clean up the area where his wound was of any remnants of blood or gross discharge from a once-healing cut. )
I guess you were right.
( by putting that idea into her head, of getting to use her powers for something other than destruction. she sets the towel onto the coffee table, offers him his shirt to wear. )
...has something similar happened with your powers before? ( with evolution, something new? )
Of course I was. It'll save you a lot of time if you presume I'm always right.
[ He shoots her a smile with that, so she's knows he's of course teasing. He has been wrong many times before. But best not get into that for now.
He takes the shirt and puts it back on, pleased to note that he no longer feels any dull ache as he moves, not even a vague discomfort. However she did that, it worked to perfection. ]
My abilities have been in constant evolution, especially after meeting Charles. He unlocked something in my mind that allowed me to access my powers in a different way. [ Easiest way to explain what Charles did for him, all those years ago. ] I've learned to do some different things that I couldn't before. And then— there is, of course, the changes that this place has caused.
[ He's reluctant to call it a gift, but he wouldn't call it a curse either. It has proved rather useful, on more than one occasion. ]
( at the smile he gives her, after the statement of always being right, wanda returns it with a cheeky little smile of her own. she knows he's teasing her, but it's not an unwanted thing. it. makes her feel good, too, the fact that erik can be like this with her—whatever norm of awkwardness from their initial acquaintanceship gone.
fond as she is for him, as soon as he has shirt back on, she sits by him, one leg crossed under herself, her attention on him. lips purse for a moment in thought. )
...I don't think I ever asked how you and Charles met?
( wanda, currently oblivious of their relationship status— )
I'm glad you were able to find someone like that, though. It can make all the difference. ( in this experience called life, that can be quite lonely when people are exceptional, like him, herself. mutants at large, others burdened with great power. she thinks about her roommate, who has deemed himself as special, magic, even, and has called wanda the same, because of her powers. a glance up at the ceiling, then back to the coffee table, wanda grabs at her cup of tea. ) You mean the stormkissed bond?
[ It's not a story he minds sharing, especially with someone he trusts. There's a lot of history there, though, so he'll try to keep it somewhat simple and just elaborate if she asks any more questions. ]
We were tracking down the same man. He was on a submarine and Charles could sense me in the water, trying to chase after him. He jumped in and saved me from drowning.
[ Which was rather likely to happen, given his blind hunt for Shaw's head. Charles not only saved him from that, he also convinced him that there could be a different path from him. He would not have let go of that submarine otherwise. ]
Well, some say we all have a soulmate out there.
[ Whether or not Erik believes it, he's not entirely sure. But he knows Charles is his, at least. ]
Well— that too, but that's not what I meant. I'm talking about this. [ He uses his ability purposefully to lift any trinket on display in her living room, and his hand starts turning to metal, spreading up his arm the longer he keeps the item floating in the air. She would have seen it, if at no other time then during Charles's first club meeting. ] This isn't part of my natural mutation.
( from all that erik has shared with wanda, his experience as a mutant, be it with charles or without, he has always seemed to have been incredibly occupied with some sort of mission or task. there's a tilt of her head as she processes his words; charles jumped in and saved erik from drowning? charles, who is in a wheelchair?
suppose she doesn't know all that much about the world they come from, what the x-men actually do.
at the comment about a soulmate, the way emotion blossoms in erik at it, the thought of charles, all she can ultimately respond with (curious as she may have been about the submarine) is a rather quiet, but coming-to-understanding, ) Oh.
( she busies herself with taking a sip from her tea, not wanting to linger or make it awkward, or otherwise assume that he wants to talk about it. relationships, in whatever realm, as private. thankfully, there's a demonstration of his powers to focus on, and wanda does remember, the way the metal spread up his arm.
a cant of her head, an arching of a brow, and she's setting her up down against her lap. she reaches for his hand, touching the metal. )
It isn't? But... it feels like it could be, being metal—
( ever evolving powers. like her own. )
Can you do it at will, or is it only in consequence of when you use your abilities?
[ Quite a lot of disabled people aren't actually born disabled, to be fair. Charles wasn't always in a wheelchair. It's an easy enough notion for Erik, though, when he met Charles before then. Easy to forget that no one else here has known Charles before the incident that led to his injury.
He can't help a small, knowing smile as she comes upon the understanding of what Erik and Charles are to one another. He hasn't made it a secret in a long time, and even then it certainly wasn't a secret to those closest to him. He realises now that maybe the topic simply hadn't come up with Wanda.
He'd gladly answer questions, not at all secretive about their relationship, but it can wait in lieu of the other current topic of discussion. ]
It might be a shift to my existing mutation. But I believe this place has caused it somehow.
[ It doesn't feel like a natural evolution, but he can't explain why he feels that way. He lets her touch his hand, as it is fairly harmless– his hand will feel hard under the touch, cool and solid as if made of metal, even when Erik can move it as naturally as if it were made of flesh and bone. ]
Only when I use my abilities. The more power I reach for, the more widespread the mutation is. I've had over half of my body transformed on one occasion.
( erik would know about his powers himself better than wanda ever could, that much is fact. so, when he says it might be a shift to his existing mutation, she has no reason to question it. oddly enough, she does feel like it does fit him (and, also, it looks incredibly cool the way it seamlessly combines with his body). )
It'd be convenient as a shield.
( she draws her hand back, sitting back. it brings to mind— )
—try to use it next time someone tries to stab you, please?
[ All that he can do is trigger it, which can come in handy— he at least knows that the transformation always starts with his hands, so he can pack a pretty heavy punch now. But other than that, he can't really decide which parts of his body turn to metal. If there's a logic to it, he hasn't figured it out yet.
He smiles faintly at her words, tipping his head to the side. ]
I was thinking of avoiding getting stabbed altogether. Seems like the smarter choice.
[ But he could use being a little more careful around here. There are other people with their own abilities, he's not just fighting overconfident humans out there.
Setting the matter aside, he looks around the room, taking in the smaller details of the place. It is quite nice. Big too, which prompts the question. ] Are you living here with someone?
( in time, wanda does think that perhaps erik could learn to control this new subset of his mutation. the latter option sounds more appealing, though, of avoiding getting stabbed altogether. it makes her wonder in what state erik must have been in to have been unable to push a knife out of the way; it's metal, after all. suppose that the blackout was just extremely chaotic, and there were even raiders with some amount of powers. it had been surprising.
as he looks around the room, she picks at where his thoughts are wandering toward, then settles back on the couch, crossing her legs under herself. )
Yes. ( it's not really a secret, but she's rushed with a sense of embarrassment because this relates back to one of the questions she had initially asked him—that which led him to come here in the first place. ) I'm living with David. The mutant I mentioned. ( it's still weird to not just call him 'guy' and having, instead, to call mutants for what they are. ) He's not in right now.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
He nods and sets out to take off his sweater, pulling it over his head and resting it on his own lap. There's a patch over the wound and he peels that off too, so she can get a full view of the injury left behind there. The reddened and still sore skin around the mostly closed gash, the marks left behind by the fairly decent stitching. There is a trace of blood, dried, but nothing that's even worth noting. Erik moves slower because it still feels a little sore, but it's not necessarily painful. Still, it's obvious that it was a pretty nasty injury. ]
You'll know if it does.
[ She can feel what he feels, after all. There would be no point in him trying to hide it from her. ]
no subject
closing her eyes, to center herself, wanda does her utmost to focus herself. what she had felt, thought, done last time; she wanted her powers to heal, to fix it, and they had done just that. it had been a desperate moment, to be fair, and right now is a lot calmer and erik isn't at risk of bleeding out, but the fundamentals should remain. wanda opens her eyes, glowing red, raises her hand, and lets plumes of scarlet flow from her fingers, onto his shoulder, towards the injury. it stretches over the injury, pushing past, through skin, and lingering.
genuinely, she can't imagine what she is doing is in any way medically accurate, but she pictures a knife wound in the same way that she pictures cutting through raw chicken. the way the sharp blade cuts through muscle, sinew, breaks it apart; she imagines the blood that must have flowed out, through. in her mind, she also pictures accidentally cutting her fingers with a knife, how the cut stings, and imagines then the opposite—muscles stringing themselves back together, slowly, little by little, removing injury and pain.
wanda pulls back from her focus, swallowing hard, gasping for a deep inhale of air. her eyes return to the stitched wound and notices that it's not an angry red anymore. )
I did it.
( she says softly, almost surprised. it hadn't been a fluke, then? she draws back, but moves her fingers about delicately, doing him the favour of removing the stitching from his healed skin. there may yet be some scarring—it's not the perfect job—but it's decidedly better.
wanda looks up at him, once she's done, stitching thread in her hand. )
How does it feel?
no subject
That said, nothing about it feels at all painful. Strange, maybe, uncomfortable only in the way that he can feel the muscles being stitched back together, but something else happens that quickly takes his mind off it. More than feeling the healing process, he can sense her powers course through him. A red heat in his veins, making his heart speed up just a hint, a blur in his vision that he can't explain. His eyes stay on her, watching what she's doing, unaware of the vaguest flicker of red that passes through his own eyes.
He can't actually reach that power, obviously. Can't wield it like she does. But it's an odd feeling, and he can't explain if it's because of her using those powers on him, or an extension of the bond they share. He remembers Laura mentioning something like it.
He looks from her hands to what he can see of his own shoulder, and finally moves his arm to check. His right hand presses into the spot, and he hums in approval. ]
Good as new. [ Aside from the light scarring, but compared to the numbers tattooed onto the inside of his left arm, it really is nothing. ] That was remarkable.
no subject
she returns to him with a damp kitchen towel, which she uses to gently clean up the area where his wound was of any remnants of blood or gross discharge from a once-healing cut. )
I guess you were right.
( by putting that idea into her head, of getting to use her powers for something other than destruction. she sets the towel onto the coffee table, offers him his shirt to wear. )
...has something similar happened with your powers before? ( with evolution, something new? )
no subject
[ He shoots her a smile with that, so she's knows he's of course teasing. He has been wrong many times before. But best not get into that for now.
He takes the shirt and puts it back on, pleased to note that he no longer feels any dull ache as he moves, not even a vague discomfort. However she did that, it worked to perfection. ]
My abilities have been in constant evolution, especially after meeting Charles. He unlocked something in my mind that allowed me to access my powers in a different way. [ Easiest way to explain what Charles did for him, all those years ago. ] I've learned to do some different things that I couldn't before. And then— there is, of course, the changes that this place has caused.
[ He's reluctant to call it a gift, but he wouldn't call it a curse either. It has proved rather useful, on more than one occasion. ]
no subject
fond as she is for him, as soon as he has shirt back on, she sits by him, one leg crossed under herself, her attention on him. lips purse for a moment in thought. )
...I don't think I ever asked how you and Charles met?
( wanda, currently oblivious of their relationship status— )
I'm glad you were able to find someone like that, though. It can make all the difference. ( in this experience called life, that can be quite lonely when people are exceptional, like him, herself. mutants at large, others burdened with great power. she thinks about her roommate, who has deemed himself as special, magic, even, and has called wanda the same, because of her powers. a glance up at the ceiling, then back to the coffee table, wanda grabs at her cup of tea. ) You mean the stormkissed bond?
no subject
We were tracking down the same man. He was on a submarine and Charles could sense me in the water, trying to chase after him. He jumped in and saved me from drowning.
[ Which was rather likely to happen, given his blind hunt for Shaw's head. Charles not only saved him from that, he also convinced him that there could be a different path from him. He would not have let go of that submarine otherwise. ]
Well, some say we all have a soulmate out there.
[ Whether or not Erik believes it, he's not entirely sure. But he knows Charles is his, at least. ]
Well— that too, but that's not what I meant. I'm talking about this. [ He uses his ability purposefully to lift any trinket on display in her living room, and his hand starts turning to metal, spreading up his arm the longer he keeps the item floating in the air. She would have seen it, if at no other time then during Charles's first club meeting. ] This isn't part of my natural mutation.
no subject
suppose she doesn't know all that much about the world they come from, what the x-men actually do.
at the comment about a soulmate, the way emotion blossoms in erik at it, the thought of charles, all she can ultimately respond with (curious as she may have been about the submarine) is a rather quiet, but coming-to-understanding, ) Oh.
( she busies herself with taking a sip from her tea, not wanting to linger or make it awkward, or otherwise assume that he wants to talk about it. relationships, in whatever realm, as private. thankfully, there's a demonstration of his powers to focus on, and wanda does remember, the way the metal spread up his arm.
a cant of her head, an arching of a brow, and she's setting her up down against her lap. she reaches for his hand, touching the metal. )
It isn't? But... it feels like it could be, being metal—
( ever evolving powers. like her own. )
Can you do it at will, or is it only in consequence of when you use your abilities?
no subject
He can't help a small, knowing smile as she comes upon the understanding of what Erik and Charles are to one another. He hasn't made it a secret in a long time, and even then it certainly wasn't a secret to those closest to him. He realises now that maybe the topic simply hadn't come up with Wanda.
He'd gladly answer questions, not at all secretive about their relationship, but it can wait in lieu of the other current topic of discussion. ]
It might be a shift to my existing mutation. But I believe this place has caused it somehow.
[ It doesn't feel like a natural evolution, but he can't explain why he feels that way. He lets her touch his hand, as it is fairly harmless– his hand will feel hard under the touch, cool and solid as if made of metal, even when Erik can move it as naturally as if it were made of flesh and bone. ]
Only when I use my abilities. The more power I reach for, the more widespread the mutation is. I've had over half of my body transformed on one occasion.
no subject
It'd be convenient as a shield.
( she draws her hand back, sitting back. it brings to mind— )
—try to use it next time someone tries to stab you, please?
( light scolding, but not without humor. )
no subject
[ All that he can do is trigger it, which can come in handy— he at least knows that the transformation always starts with his hands, so he can pack a pretty heavy punch now. But other than that, he can't really decide which parts of his body turn to metal. If there's a logic to it, he hasn't figured it out yet.
He smiles faintly at her words, tipping his head to the side. ]
I was thinking of avoiding getting stabbed altogether. Seems like the smarter choice.
[ But he could use being a little more careful around here. There are other people with their own abilities, he's not just fighting overconfident humans out there.
Setting the matter aside, he looks around the room, taking in the smaller details of the place. It is quite nice. Big too, which prompts the question. ] Are you living here with someone?
no subject
as he looks around the room, she picks at where his thoughts are wandering toward, then settles back on the couch, crossing her legs under herself. )
Yes. ( it's not really a secret, but she's rushed with a sense of embarrassment because this relates back to one of the questions she had initially asked him—that which led him to come here in the first place. ) I'm living with David. The mutant I mentioned. ( it's still weird to not just call him 'guy' and having, instead, to call mutants for what they are. ) He's not in right now.