sixthiterationlogs | Is this what you want of me?

WHO: Erik Lehnsherr
WHERE: The storage rooms, the village headed for the woods
WHEN: June 16
OPEN TO: Anyone
WARNINGS: None yet

He had thought, for a few days, that perhaps they had just missed each other. They're both busy, after all, and they don't live in the same place. They hadn't seen each other every day anyway. But after days of not seeing her around, and seeing no signs of her at her house, Erik has been forced to the conclusion that Claire is now among those who have disappeared from this place. One more loss to add to the list. It hasn't gotten any easier to handle than it ever has been before, but at least this time he can't tear the world apart just by thinking about it. Good for the world, but bad for him.

It's a good thing he lives alone, because the chair that he sends flying across the room to crash into a wall could have hurt someone. Instead the only harm is to the chair itself as it splinters. It's the sight of them, and the awareness that now he doesn't have that chair for sitting in anymore, that gets through to him. There has to be a more productive way of dealing with this.

Whoever's behind this. They brought him here, they brought her here, they must have taken her away again. They're the ones he should mad at. There's just one problem: he doesn't know who they are. Or how to find them. Or what he could do about it even if he found one of them. But he's not a quitter; there have to be answers out there somewhere, and he won't find them by remaining here.

It only takes an hour. He empties out the backpack from his arrival and fills it back up again, with an extra set of clothes, a little food, blankets, any supplies he has lying around. Then he heads to the communal store rooms to see what he can find. No tent, but he grabs an Army tarp and a rope. He can rig something up with those. A survival kit, and a hatchet, for chopping wood. Everything he might need for a wilderness camping trip.

They've found places belonging to them before, though he hasn't heard of it happening since their arrival in this new place. There must still be places out there somewhere, and he's not returning to the village until he finds one. Does he actually know how to survive out in the woods for that long? No, but that's no concern to him. He'll do what he always does: wing it.

With his backpack loaded up and his arms full, he sets out in a random direction, headed for a place where he thinks something had been found before.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"I hadn't intended on being out here for a terribly long time," Helen confessed, "but if you'd like help getting to your site and setting up camp, I have a free moment."

Since the appearance of camping supplies, Helen had thought about it herself. One of the things about being in a village of a few dozen people was that everyone knew you and it was just busy enough that people naturally drifted into conversation. Alone time had to be sought outside village boundaries for it to have any success.

It's not alone time he seeks; he gets plenty of that in his house at the end of the day. More now than he used to, and he doesn't like it. That's his reason for this attempt.

Of course it would be a lot simpler just to head to the inn and make a new friend.

He turns back to look at the woods. He's not even sure where he's heading for his campsite. "I don't know where I'm headed for the moment, but if you've got time, I could use a hand."

Or someone to talk him out of this.

"Well, I've nowhere to be at this exact moment so I'm happy to volunteer," Helen said. She offered a hand to him, deciding now would be a good time for a formal introduction since she knew his face but not his name.

"I'm Helen Magnus, by the way. I know your face so I imagine you might have been here a while but I don't think I've had the pleasure."

"By now it would be over a year." He doesn't know exactly how long he's been here, but he's been through two winters. He shakes her hand. "Erik Lehnsherr."

His hand falls back at his side. "The village layout is the same. If the observation pods are in the same locations, then there should be one in that direction."

"I haven't tested that theory but there's no time like the present," Helen agreed. "It would stand to reason that if the basic layout of the villages has remained, those observation pods would still be there."

She tapped her mouth lightly, thinking. "And there are things in there I want more of a chance to research. I never got to look at the documents for very long last time I was in one."

"You saw some documents?" Automatically he's even more interested. He'd seen the pods before, but hadn't been looking for documents. "I tried to find a way in to the one with the blood samples in it, but had no luck."

This time though he'd just take any of the pods that he can find. Anything that might provide a clue.

"I went to the one that opened first, back when we chased the wendigo. There were some documents there about genetic manipulation, about splicing together chimeras essentially. I wasn't able to remove any of them," she explained.

"I wonder if it's related to the blood samples," she mused. "It would stand to reason it might be different phases of the same experiment."

That's enough, right there, to get him to stop in his tracks. Those are words he never wanted to hear, and when combined with the knowledge that the people behind this have their blood? Now he's got twice the reasons to want to be somewhere that isn't here.

"Genetic manipulation?"

And, well, experiments. There's that too.

He needs to get out of this place.

"From what I could tell? Yes. Considering I've tampered with my own genetics in the past, I'm not keen on others making the choice for me. It's not exactly what I'd call ethical - it was one thing to do it to myself, quite another if they're planning to do it to us against our will."

Helen frowned a bit. "I'll help you try to find one of those pods and see what we can find, all right?"

He nods. That will do for him. He starts walking in the direction they agreed on. "I was born with a genetic mutation." A lot of people are, sure, some obvious, some not so much. But most people who are born with a mutation aren't born with one that makes them part of a different species. "It allows me to manipulate anything metal, and magnetic fields themselves."

He doesn't know how she'll take that, but she seems to be scientifically-minded. Hopefully she'll take it in stride. "Can I ask, why did you tamper with your genetics?"

"Honestly? Because I'd studied those like you who were born with mutations and thought it might be a clever idea. I wasn't blessed with forethought as a young woman."

She'd been impetuous and rash. "What I do is champion the cause of the different - I provide them with a safe place to live and be themselves. I find that it helps when they know that I, too, am different."

Studied them. That admission could have turned out poorly for her, given the things that have been done by some of those who studied mutants. "I've never heard of anyone wanting to be a mutant before." At least not those who hadn't been born as one.

He wonders for a moment what her world is like. "You give people like me a place to live? Back home, people seem more concerned with wiping us out."

"In mine too," Helen agreed. "Humans always react with violence against those things they don't understand. It's a defense mechanism, though sometimes with poor and erratic results. I provide a place that mutants, if you will, can live freely and without fear. That has always been my goal. Sometimes it's difficult to live alongside the human population."

Is this what you want of me?

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