?

Log in

No account? Create an account
Erik Lehnsherr
25 July 2011 @ 01:18 am
Erik's body lay in his bedroom in Charles massive house, asleep and twitching violently, muttering half formed words and occasionally letting out something that's not quite a scream.

His mind, however, is somewhere else entirely. It's raining, and the mud soaks through his ill-fitting boots as he's marched past a shallow stinking pit where workers are shoveling dirt over a mound of bodies. He thinks he sees flashes of faces that he recognizes from his neighborhood, but he can't tell, and he won't have a chance to stop and look closer, because Herr Doktor is leading the way, and if he stops for too long, he'll be punished again. It might be no food for a few days, or it might be an hour in his office or something equally unpleasant, so Erik keeps his eyes on the ground and walks.

In his dream, he walks through the camp, passing scene upon scene of suffering, facing jeering guards, and the smell of death and shit and smoke.

The door that Schmidt leads him through opens to the stark white terrifying parody of a doctor's office where their 'meetings' are usually held, but the table that Erik has been strapped to and drugged into painful semi-consiousness countless times is already occupied. Charles is strapped to it, and as it is in dreams, Erik can't move as Shaw approaches the table and goes about selecting a number of curious instruments. The knife he holds is steel, but Erik can barely feel it in his mind, let alone snatch it from the doctor's hand and turn it against him. There's nothing he can do Schmidt cuts and Charles screams. In his dream, Shaw kills Charles slowly, before it's his turn to be held down to the cold, unyielding steel that's soaked with his friend's blood. He smiles and makes soothing noises at Erik as he does it, assuring him that this is for his own good, to make him stronger.


In Erik's bedroom in the New York mansion, the metal light fixtures and doorknobs and handles twisted and shook, bending out of shape and shaking as if to free themselves from their moorings.
 
 
Erik Lehnsherr
13 July 2011 @ 02:45 am
Snow suited this place, Erik thought as he walked out onto the grounds. The weak, early morning sun illuminated the glittering surface of the lawn. It was already several inches deep, and showed no signs of stopping any time soon. The air was thick with swirling white that hit the ground with a soft whispering shhh. He glanced back at the trail of dark foot prints he'd left. It was a shame to mar the pristine white surface, but the pleasure of being outside in such quiet beauty was worth it. 

He closed his eyes, letting the cold sink in past the heavy coat he wore and images of snow from his childhood washed over him. Snow that made the ghetto where his family had been forced to live seem clean and beautiful, despite the bone chilling cold. Snow that mixed with the ash from the ovens in Auschwitz. Nothing could make that place anything but grey. He looked out past the trees with a shudder that had nothing to do with the cold, and bundled the coat closer around himself. 

Soon, when the rest of the house awoke, there would be snowball fights out on the lawn and tracks in the snow leading every direction, but he much preferred this. Silent and clean, but for the soft, shifting sound of the snowfall. 
 
 
 
Erik Lehnsherr
12 July 2011 @ 03:21 pm
Erik had persuaded and dissuaded himself from approaching the mansion about five times before he finally takes the first few steps up the drive. Charles would not want to see him, not after the fiasco that they'd both had a hand in causing, and of course Erik was still angry at him... but truth be told, he misses him terribly. And Erik knows that they could accomplish so much more together than they ever could apart. So he keeps walking.

The helmet that he wears looks odd with his customary black turtleneck and dark trousers, but to arrive at the house in the cape and Magneto garb would feel a little foolish, even to him. And he got this distinct impression that Charles would laugh at him.

He arrives at the front door and slips inside; locks had never proved much of an obstacle for him. Avoiding groups of rowdy teenagers proves more problematic, and he has to duck into unused rooms a couple of times to keep from being caught. It occurs to him, as he approaches Charles's rooms, that he might not be in here at all. It was far more likely that he'd be off training with one of the students or in the lab with Hank or any number of things. Well, if that happened, he'd deal with it when he comes to it. So he knocks twice, and opens the door before Charles can tell him to go away.
 
 
Erik Lehnsherr
05 July 2011 @ 10:34 pm
 It took a very long time for Erik to begin to worry about Charles. 

Their ridiculous fight about Moira had put him in a foul mood, and as far as he was concerned, Charles could sulk out on the grounds as long as he wanted. And Erik, of course, was far too busy sulking indoors to care. The students knew enough about Mr. Lehnsherr to steer clear of him for the duration of the evening and he tried very hard to ignore hushed murmurs of "no, don't go in the study; the dads are fighting" and "I think Mr. Lehnsherr might actually kill you if you ask him about homework right now." 

He spent the remainder of the evening quietly, and collapsed into of his own bed for the first time in months. He slept badly and awoke groggily to someone rapping on his door. He rolled out of bed with a curse under his breath, and opened it. 

"What, Charles--"

But it wasn't Charles at all; one of the newer students, Ororo Monroe, stood at the door, hiding her fear of him with a brave expression. 

"Mr. Lehnsherr? Do you know where Professor Xavier is? We were supposed to meet for training, and he's missed Jean's, Alex's any my times. And he's not in his room." She had obviously thought that she'd find him in Erik's. Well. 

Erik still wasn't worried. He only threw on his clothes and organized a search of the grounds because he was concerned for the children and their training schedules. 
 
 
Erik Lehnsherr
17 June 2011 @ 01:24 am
Erik wasn't sure he approved of this rigid class schedule. He didn't mind teaching, really: the looks of awed terror he got from the younger students were amusing, and he did command some amount of respect from the older ones. But right now, the last thing he wanted to do was teach several rowdy teenagers how to speak French. Not when all he could think about was Charles's hand on his cock last night, and sucking on his collarbone, and the face he made when he came...

"Um, Mr. Lehnsherr?" Shawn interrupted that train of thought, and Erik realized perhaps too late that he'd trailed off in the middle of a sentence about irregular verbs. He glanced at the clock, cleared his throat and continued. He could survive another twenty minutes. He was just grateful that they hadn't enrolled any telepathic students.

After what seemed like years, the class ended and the students filed out of the room, chatting brightly among themselves.
 
 
Current Location:
 
 
 
Erik Lehnsherr
08 June 2011 @ 02:54 pm
Ring. 

Ring. 

You've reached Erik Lehnsherr's voicemail. Leave a message. 

Click. 


 
 
Current Mood: grumpybrooding
 
 
Erik Lehnsherr
08 June 2011 @ 02:45 pm
 Hey, my name's Renn and I'll be playing Magneto this evening! 

If you'd like to get in touch with me, you can do so in one of several ways:

Email: rennkeel(at)gmail(dot)com
AIM: sunlightlikegold
msn: rennnnuh@hotmail.com
Skype: Rennface

And of course you can leave any questions/comments/constructive criticism in a comment here! Thank you!

 
 
Current Mood: chipperchipper