eachdraidh | second jive ⚛ video ⚛ open to both courts (backdated to approx Feb 20)

Entry tags:

second jive ⚛ video ⚛ open to both courts (backdated to approx Feb 20)

(Howard hadn’t been much use during the battle, and that was something he wasn’t particularly proud of. But then again, he had only just arrived when it suddenly came down on them, and he’d never been much of a fighter. Because of this he had stayed behind to assist with the evacuation of Caer Scima, choosing to help with the library, trying to save as much of the knowledge from there as possible. He remembered similar work being done during the war, the Nazis had tried to destroy so much so that the world could be shaped in their own image. Stealing art from museums and homes and those they didn’t think worthy of them, destroying books and art by artists so called “unpure” races. To this day they were still working to uncover art and relics that had been hidden away in homes of Nazi generals, or in underground or mountainous locations. And then of course there was the historical part, the burning of the great Library in Alexandria that he remembered reading about when he was a boy. How much knowledge of the world had been lost during that, and how many centuries had it set humankind back?

He didn’t know how much of the information that was found in the library would be available anywhere else. He’d only gotten to just touch the surface of what could exist within it, and already he’d found dozens of books that looked to be hand penned. Those were likely unique, and so they needed to be taken somewhere safe. So it was in the library he was when the walls started to come down. He’d been organising manageable stacks to be carried, others to be loaded onto horse drawn carts. Then there was a crash, and he remembers seeing fire begin to take a bookcase, and that he was moving to try to put it out, and blackness. The next thing he remembers is waking up with a freezing arm, it had burned and they were using some sort of cooling magic to heal it, and being told that he was in Spire 3, having been set on one of the carts he’d helped load on top of the books.

Shame wasn’t something most people thought of when they thought of Howard Stark, but for this he was ashamed that he hadn’t been able to do more. He’d try to tell them that he was in good enough shape to go out and fight, when he learned of the Jabberwock attack, he wanted to help, but they had forced him to stay put against his will. Of course, he won’t admit to any sense of shame, but it’d be noticeable around those who had fought, a reluctance to talk about what he had done, and what had happened. But he had survived, he’d saved some books, so at least he had that.

But he needed to get out of there, too. He needed some time to himself. He wanted to see if there was any way to recover some of the information that had been lost. Some sort of backup system in place, and the most likely place for that seemed to be this Station that he’d heard mentions of, which was where he had now decided to head. If nothing else, at least he’s been promised that it’s the sole place where technology works, and he wants to see what the future of it all holds.

He’s still unsure about the fairy rings, and whether or not he should trust them. He’s looked at the one here at the spire, walked around it, tried to see if there was anything secretly powering other than magic, but there doesn’t seem to be anything that he can see. So he wants to find out about other methods of transportation, if there are any. Walking would just take too long, but he’s not sure he trusts horses either.

Before he goes, however, he has some information he wants to ask about, maybe it’ll cut out some of the work for him.)

(The video feed clicks on, and while Howard looks tired and worn out, it could be a lot worse. There’s a bruise healing on his forehead, a cut on his cheek that’s almost disappeared thanks to a salve he was given to put on it, but in the right light you can see the light pink tightness of new skin. The smile that had been so easy going the first time he had come across the screen seems tighter now, more forced, but he’s always been one to try to maintain the façade of cool, calm and collected. He’s going to do that, now too.)

I have a couple of questions.

(He feels like maybe he should say more. Comment on the battles that occurred, that he hopes no one lost anyone close to them, but so much has already been said, and he still feels shame. He doesn’t want to be questioned of where he was and what he did.)

First of all: these fairy rings. How much is actually known about how they work? Have there ever been any ill effects caused by them? (Namely death, but he won’t say that out loud. Onto the next topic.) I want to go to the Station, and horseback just isn’t my style.

(Onto the next topic.)

I know that there are blacksmiths responsible for forging the weaponry here, and from what I understand, the metal they use comes from the dwarves. Is there any type of order form that’s used? Maybe a list of what kind of metals they have in their mines, and the corresponding prices? Or maybe in general just a list of what’s been found naturally in this place, I’ve been looking for information, but it’s been a bit of a struggle.

Lastly, to end on a high note: what do people do for fun around here? Does this place have a Vegas or Monaco or Riviera?

[private to Steve Rogers & James Barnes]

You guys make it through?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Volunteering does not make it better. The amount of lives lost far outweighs the amount he may have saved. If you can't see that then you are far more blind than I had ever imagined.

(Howard's face hardens a little now, anger flashing in his eyes. But he's still controlled, somewhat.) He helped save millions of lives through his efforts, and the sacrifice he made when he flew that plane into the ocean. We probably would have lost if not for him. (Maybe not against Hitler, but Red Skull? They wouldn't have had a chance.) And it's not like it's ever going to be tested on anyone else.

How do you know? [ Erik shakes his head. ] What proof do you have that no one else will get tested? That people won't try to recreate it? [ He's seen people. He's seen what science can do - trying to help or hurt. He's not an idiot. ]

They don't have the formula, like I said, that died with Erskine. The eleven vials of blood they had from him are already gone, so they have nothing, and I sure as hell won't be helping them. I don't trust them.

Did you miss the part where I said recreate it? It existed once. Don't underestimate the expanse of human stupidity. [ He's seen what they did to his friends. The experiments, to create their own weapons. ]

I try to hold onto a little bit of faith. (It's small, and really, it's mostly that he thinks there's no one out there smart enough to manage.) I'm hoping that there's never another reason to need something like that.

Why is there ever a reason? Power is enough. Having something that no one else does, laying claim to it. If they could chain my people and use them as weaponised slaves I'm sure they would. [ He can imagine what the CIA venture could have been if they weren't so obsessed with calling them freaks. ]

It would never have been created if it wasn't for the war. It lead to desperation. War always leads to desperation. (At least, that's what he hopes. He certainly would have never been a part of it all, if it wasn't for the war.)

What you can do, that's incredible. If people can't accept that they're idiots, all of them.

Humanity's very existence leads to desperation. A desperation to prove themselves, to ignore the fact that they are genetically inferior to those that are coming ahead of them - to make sure they have all the power in the world and no one else does. [ Still.

He looks away, his fingers clenching tighter. ]

They are idiots. Blind to their own shortcomings.

That sort of was what the whole war was about. Just that the ones being stomped on weren't able to do snazzy things like you can. (:c)

I'm sorry. I know that doesn't mean anything, but I still am. You have an extraordinary talent.

I've experienced my fair share of that, too.

[ He would show his forearm, but he supposes it doesn't matter. He flexes, though, and his arms are on show. It's up to the man if he wants to comment on it. ]

Homo Superior, that's what we are. The next genetic step.

(He sees it, his eyes flick to it now, too, and the look is pointed. But it's still such a sensitive subject to so many, he doesn't know if he should.)

I'm glad you've survived.

(Whether it's prosecution from his government, or a reference to what's on his arm, who knows? Howard's glad for any survivors of unjust horror, though. That was what he'd been helping fight for.)

I wonder if it'll happen naturally where I'm from. Or if it has, but kept hidden.

I imagine you're the only one.

[ He remembers the rolling hills outside the bar and wishes, absently, he had that knife. Blood and honour as the names of his parents were taken from them, left to rot as they were given numbers instead. Cattle. ]

It happens in secret. My people were unknown creatures and as soon as the government got wind of the reality of us they attempted to chain us to their 'secret' operations.

I'm sure there are others who understand and appreciate your value.

( Sometimes Howard wonders how different his life would be if people knew the truth of his origins, but it's something he hides, shoved away for no one to see, almost so far down he's forgotten himself.)

Considering history's past with dealing with people who might be different, whether it be a physical or mental difference, I'm not surprised they'd choose to stay hidden. And then...(A huff, and a shake of his head.) And here I've been dwelling on anger over them stealing my technology.

(He pauses briefly.)

When are you from?

You would think.

[ But, of course, Erik hardly believes. He's seen the very worst of humanity dozens of times, over and over again, and he's not going to simply settle and watch it happen again, no matter what. If he can fight back then he will. ]

Stay hidden or die. That is the plight my people suffer. I want us to be free, to be able to step out of the shadows and claim our right to exist. The humans want otherwise.

[ He shakes his head, voice sharp. ]

1973.

(Howard nods, it's a slow nod, thoughtful, he's mulling a lot in his mind right then, everything has been such a rush. Sure, he had considered what could have gone wrong, taken into account what would happen if they tried to recreate the Serum again, that was why it had been, and still was, so important for him to get his items back, and to keep the last remaining vial of blood safe. that way they couldn't keep experimenting on it. They weren't worthy.)

But if you're the natural evolutionary step, your ranks must be growing? And when it becomes more common, people will have to accept it.

(You'd hope. Maybe.

Oh. Howard's shoulders sink then, just a bit.)

Guess the future doesn't improve as much as I'd hoped. You'd think we would have learned from our mistakes by now.

You would think.

[ Erik shakes his head, expression hardening. There are things that he hasn't spent much time thinking about here - the future he was supposed to help Charles repair for one - because he wasn't able to get back home, he wasn't able to return to the fight he had been forced to abandon. Instead, he has to sit here and try and work out a means to survive without losing himself. ]

No. The humans create machines to find us, my brothers and sisters, my kin, and murder us in the night. That is what your people chose to do to mine.

[ He shakes his head. ]

You are incapable of learning.

(But then again, people were still skeptical of those with a different skin tone than themselves, so really, Howard's not surprised. Disappointed? Definitely, he had hopes for the future, that acceptance would reign supreme and that equality would be far more prominent, but apparently those dreams were probably even more far off than flying cars and jetpacks.)

I wouldn't call them my people. That's...not something I would condone. Or support.

(It's something he'd fight, really, he hopes? You can never know for sure, but the thought of it, it makes him look ill.)

Curse of humanity right there.

[ He shakes his head. ]

They are your people - your race. Why do mutants have to accept the fault of every crime committed by a singular person who may, if given the chance, use their powers, but humanity is offered a free pass?

[ The first thing humanity thinks about when it comes to mutants is the so-called horror they could cause, the fear of their own self-worth being shown to be nothing in the eyes of evolution. He's read the thesis, he's studied the science - been a part of the science - and he refuses to adhere to the mentality that they should be controlled or imprisoned like tools or weapons. His people, his kin, have as much right to freedom as anyone else in the world. ]

Fear of your own demise blinds you to the world ahead.

(Well there's a thought, Howard clicks his tongue for a moment, mulling it over, and then shaking his head.)

They don't -- shouldn't. But that's where fear mongering and propaganda comes in. If a group with a lot of power manages to manipulate the people's view on a race, or religion, using fear, it's easy for masses to follow. That doesn't mean everyone believes it, even if it might feel like it. And then those who don't believe it are targeted just the same. (Those who had been in the resistance leagues, when they were found out. :c

Howard seems to have aged over the course of the conversation. He may not be a mutant, but it's obvious this is still something that hits close to home -- too close for comfort, and he scrubs a hand over his face.)

I, personally, am trying to illuminate it.

[ It's not enough. ]

And that somehow allows them to commit atrocities? They should be punished, and no one has the courage to do it. No one has the will to rise up and tell the people suffering that they don't have to live the way they are. [ And if they try? They're imprisoned.

He's a little more careful, now, though, and he pauses, considering. ]

I'm sure that is going well for you.

(Are words ever?)

Of course those who commit the crimes should be punished. They may, eventually, though it always depends on what power the leaders have. Otherwise, like you seem to be doing, going after them is important. There isn't some sort of underground support? A resistance, of sorts? (There usually is. The resistance. The underground railroad. There's always someone behind "enemy lines" working for the good side, whichever that may be.) It's just a matter time before they're strong enough to do something.

(There's a dry laugh.)

It was going well, and then it wasn't. I'm working, was working on fixing it before I was grabbed.

There was, and I lead it. My Brotherhood, made up of people like me, my brothers and sisters, drawn out of hiding by the promise of a better future. The humans rounded them up, collected them, and tortured them. Experimented on them.

[ Erik was the resistance. He had been, until prison. Now he's locked away, trapped, and not just in prison - in this place, the Drabworld, as much as he loathes it. ]

I've been told of what the future holds for my people. Machines created to destroy us, murder us before we're even born.

[ He sniffs, derisive. ]

Isn't that always the way.

At least you got away. (Which is zero comfort. And it's obvious, at least, from his expression that the thought of it, them being rounded up bothers him something fierce. he wants to ask if maybe this had been where Erik had gotten away too, but he's trodding more carefully now. Trying to, at least.) When you get back...try again. (What else can you do?)

Jesus, who the hell made machines like that? How could anyone? (He is floored by it, he doesn't understand. It sounds awful.)

It can go well again. I'm going to fix it.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

second jive ⚛ video ⚛ open to both courts (backdated to approx Feb 20)

video. (private)

video. (private)

video. (private)

video. (private)

video. (private)

video. (private)

video. (private)

video. (private)

video. (private)

video. (private)

video. (private)

video. (private)

video. (private)

video. (private)

video. (private)

video. (private)

video. (private)

video. (private)

video. (private)

video. (private)

video. (private)

video. (private)

video. (private)

video. (private)