Summary:Carin and Erik meet up in Mutant Town Log Info:Storyteller: None |
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Mutanttown is not someplace that Carin usually frequents. She did, for a time. When she was younger, passed from foster home to foster home, this was where she ran away to to feel a bit more…normal. By comparison. Where her alabaster-pale skin and bright coppery hair and the huge lightning bolt on her fact didn't seem nearly as outlandish.
Then AIM took her from what little comfort she could get, and tried to make a monster of her. And again, all she could do is run away. And by pure luck, run to someone who actulaly cared, for the first time in years, what happened to her.
She still doubts it, deep down. It's not a rational sort of doubt…the other students and teachers at the school she's found herself at…a mansion, no less!…have given her absolutely no reason to feel they're lying to her, after all.
But she can't help feel unworthy, nonetheless. Years of emotional abuse and loneliness leave their toll, and so her feet have ended taking her back to somewhat familiar streets, old comfort, as she struggles with the idea, a bit. She's cautious…a hoodie pulled up over her face, hiding her hair somewhat, her head down, trying to blend in with the people who already live here. The forgotten, and the lost, and the different.
Erik Lehnsherr is enjoying a stroll along the streets of Mutant Town. The roughness of the area doesn't bother him. Bars on windows have been a theme in recent years, but now he's on the outside of them. He is dressed well, in a pair of grey slacks and a checkered button-up shirt worn beneath a dark green sport coat. His chin is held high and he walks with a light step.
He attracts attention wherever he goes, of course. He had been public enemy number one for a while, a terrorist who threatened populations in the name of mutant separatism or superiority. That was the mass media told, anyway. Others, particularly in this neighbourhood, tended to view him more positively - a freedom fighter who would not back down on the issue of mutant rights and safety. Footage of him obliterating fearsome Sentinels that inspired terror in mutants, in ways only Magneto could obliterate such constructs, still attracted views and appreciation from certain marginalized quarters.
Recently, he has ended a period of incarceration that was a requirement of the armistice he negotiated with the US government. It was a PR move, clearly, as he had been kept in a standard prison. The sort he could have escaped with a thought. But now, with hostilities over and with Erik even welcomed in as a part-time instructor at the Institute, he was out enjoying relatively recent freedom and a simple walk in amongst those he fought for, and of course some that still hate him. These divisions are never perfect.
You know, you'd think it'd come up that the most infamous of mutants, Magneto, was a teacher at the Institute. Somehow, no one has actually mentioned this to Carin! Mind, she's been really busy catching up on years of schoolwork she missed, but still…you'd think that'd get dropped at some point. Maybe it was because of final exams that no one thought to mention it.
Also, the problem with looking down and being lost in your thoughts in a hoodie is you don't always watch where you're going very well, which is why when Carin rounds the nearest corner she nearly runs right into Erik, a brief bump and a moment of surprised green eyes in a pale face as she shoots a look up, then a blur as she's suddenly about five feet away, her eyes having gone wider as she makes a faint squeaking noise.
Erik Lehnsherr had taken the bump about as one might expect. It knocked him off stride a little, forcing him to shuffle-step laterally a little, but it was a minor impact. He is taller than Carin by a fair margin, more heavyset as well - not that he is a brute by any standard. His sharp blue eyes fall on her, seeming to pierce the concealment of her hood. He offers a quick smile and inclines his head automatically. "Pardon me," he offers - tone refined, accent European. But then he pauses for a moment. His eyes narrow as he searches his memory and his white brows knit slightly. "I know you," he observes. "Or at least *of* you." His tone isn't hostile.
Oh, she obviously recognizes the older man…how would it be possible NOT to recognize him? Despite the lack of hostility, the fact that Magneto KNOWS her does not seem to calm the skittish girl down as her eyes get a little bit widers. "W-what?" she stammers, shifting from foot to foot, her head tilting slightly as if she's pondering exit paths. It's always been her way, after all…flight over fight, whenever possible.
"Um…h-how?" she manages after a moment, fidgeting still as she peers guardedly back at the man across from her.
He chuckles deeply at the question, spreading his hands as though this could indicate no hostile intent. He certainly regards her with a warm, near paternal sort of look. "I've recently met my old friend Charles," he relates. "He asked if I would help out. Part-time. There's a little… photo book, though it has to remain at the mansion, for obvious reasons. Forgive an old man his memory, but I don't recall your name."
"…you mean the Professor?" the girl says slowly. "Help out with what, exactly?" Still wary, but not looking like she's about to bolt again at least. And she is memorable, of course. If nothing else, the huge green lightning bolt ttatooed over the right side of her face stands out.
She shifts a bit from foot to foot. "….Carin. I'm Carin." she says after a pause. "I just arrived. There, I mean. Recently."
"Yes," he affirms, "The Professor." Her question has him smiling again. "I teach," he explains. "Or rather, I will, at the start of the next term. Science and modern history. I'm Erik Lehnsherr." He takes a step forward, doing so at a slow pace to avoid alarming her (not that even his normal rate of movement would seem quick to her), and extends a hand for the shaking. "Carin," he repeats. "And is that the name *you* like to be known by?"
The girl stills as the older man steps closer. "…you're a teacher?" she says slowly, sounding a bit confused by that. "I…um…y-yeah. I mean, it's my name. I mean…" she says, stumbling over her words a little as she crosses her arms over her chest a little defensively. "…um, I guess I go by Velocity sometimes too. But not recently. I mean, kinda recently, because it seems like everyone's got a nickname so it's better than people picking another nickname for me that I won't like as much, because that's what happens, and I mean lightning bolt girl or Usain or something would be stupid and annoying and I'd hate being called something like…" Annnnnd then she runs out of breath and has to inhale deeply for a moment. "…um, Carin's fine."
Erik Lehnsherr's hand remains motionless in the air for a moment until finally Carin arrives at the conclusion about her name. He offers a smile and a nod. "Carin, then," he confirms. "It's a pleasure to meet you. And yes, I hope we will have the chance to do a course together next year. There are plenty of science teachers, I expect, or at least those capable of teaching it. But I expect there are fewer history teachers." He pauses for a moment, the pace of his words slower, and he asks, "Would you like to join me for a coffee? Or something to eat?"
The other girl hesistantly steps forward after a moment, before slender, pale fingers curl around the offered hand finally, shaking it lightly. "Um…food's good. No caffeine though, it makes me vibrate." Carin says after a moment, wrinkling her nose. "I…don't know. I'm way behind everyone. I never got through high school, even if I know some stuff, it's not…like, high school stuff. You know?"
He offers a light shake, stable but not crushing, and lasting just a moment, before he retracts his hand. "Of course," he agrees to her stipulation about caffeine. He nods along the way he was headed, stating, "There's a little diner this way that I was planning to visit. Would you join me?" He then resumes his direction of travel, slow paced for Carin. Even as he walks, he looks down to her, leaning a little nearer as though too confide a secret. "You'll catch up. Don't let it overwhelm you. The staff is there to support you, not scare you. You have time." He straightens a little and offers a wink. With a twinkle in his eye, he relates, "You know, I didn't have the chance to go to school very much when I was growing up either."
Carin grumbles. "People keep saying that, but it still feels like the girl in middle school stuck in college or something." She sighs a bit, then keeps pace fairly easily, relaxing a bit. "You didn't?" She glances over. "…why was that?" she says, curiosity winning out over reserve.
He glances over toward Carin at her grumbling. He just offers an understated smile and nods once more. "I do know the feeling," he assures her. "Or at least something like it. There seem to be quite a few very gifted minds about the school, whereas I was mostly dealing with regular people. For the first few years at least." Walking along at his casual, long-striding pace, he answers her question openly enough. "The government stopped letting my kind go to school. Educating us was fairly far from their minds. Then, it wasn't long before they just set out trying to exterminate us. So… a different kind of education. As you implied, not so much out-of-the-book learning."
Carin frowns a little bit as she nods. "It was really like that, huh? I didn't..I mean, my…" She pauses. "I didn't get to learn about stuff like that really." Having a stepdad who hated her because she was a mutant kinda put the kibosh on that. "I didn't get the chance. I mean, bouncing around school to school…kinda hard to keep up with stuff." she says, sighing a bit as she tucks her hands in the front pocket of her hoodie.
Erik Lehnsherr dips his chin in a nod. "It was really like that," he confirms. His expression is somber at the subject, although there is no great emotion at whatever is replayed in his mind's eye. The silence stretches for a moment or two before he reaches out in front of him. He tugs his sleeve up, to reveal the six-digit number tattooed onto the outside of his forearm, the lines blurred and the ink faded from years of time passed by. "I was 10 when I was sent to Auchwitz," he tells her. "This was my number. They used it to organize the extermination." He tugs his sleeve back down, watching her with a steady look, gauging her reaction. "It is important to learn about the things of which people and governments are capable. Perhaps we will have the chance to cover this all next term, if we are scheduled together."
Carin pauses, those green eyes flicking over to the number, widening slightly. "…they didn't give me one. When they took me, I mean." she says after a moment. "I mean, they gave me a number but they didn't think they'd need to tattoo it, I guess. Or mark me." she murmurs. "I mean, they were more interested in killing my memories than my body, too."
Erik's eyes harden and narrow slightly. "Who took you?" he asks. It is a simple, short question, but there is an underlying firmness to his tone. A hint of the hero or monster, depending on the audience, motivated by the protection of innocent mutants.
The girl is quiet for a moment as they walk. "…they call themselves AIM." she says after a moment of thought. "They wanted….soldiers. Killers." She taps the side of her head. "They put something in my head to make me forget things. All my memories are…." Her brow furrows in frustration. "Scrambled. I remember bits and pieces of life before they took me to the facility. Mostly…bad ones. The doctor who helped me get out, she said that the Brain Box was made so it would replace…um, me. Make me all…good with killing things. Obedient. Stuff like that."
She shrugs a bit, her fingers in her pockets curling into little fists. "I mean, she fried those bits, and Kitty and Doug made sure it doesn't do anything like that now. And Rachel and Jean were able to help me remember some things. But it's all…bits and pices. Like dreams, except for that."
Erik exhales through his nose at that. His brow remains creased and troubled though he nods in satisfaction of the summary. "We could have kept you safe from this sort of thing, Charles and I, if we had been working together," he exhales heavily. "I hope that, now that we are working together, we can help you overcome what you went through and keep the rest of our kind safe from that kind of abuse and exploitation." And on that merry note, the unlikely pair arrives at the diner.
Carin shrugs slightly at that. "…no one really cared about me until, um, the…people there. The girls who saved me, and the teachers. It…feels…nice, but I keep feeling like….something's bound to go wrong." she admits softly, then pause at the door, before pulling it open for you. "Um, but, I'm totes starving so..um, let's talk about something else? You can tell me what you're gonna teach, maybe I can qualfiy for for a real easy class, or soemthing?" she says hopefully, before following the other man inside. Still feeling unsure of herself, but….calmer now. And it IS food, after all
She's a teen, after all. And a speedster. Impressive amounts of food disappear down her maw.