ᴇʀɪᴋ (metalize) wrote in valloic, @ 2020-08-13 17:53:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | !: action/thread/log, ₴ inactive: erik lehnsherr, ₴ inactive: nikola tesla |
WHO: Erik Lehnsherr & Nikola Tesla
WHAT: An impromptu chess game and Meet Cute
WHERE: The park
WHEN: Today
WARNINGS: Nikola Tesla is day drinking, but other than that...no
STATUS: Complete
Nikola was sulking. He had been in Vallo for nearly two months now, and it was beginning to look like he would be here longer still, cut off from his usual connections, his bank accounts. He didn’t even know if Helen had survived. Not only did he need money, he needed access to a lab. And the job hunt was not going well. So he’d taken his bottle of cheaper-than-he’d-like wine and a glass, and he’d made his way to the park. The walk and the wine both helped him think. He’d had some of his best ideas in a park. But mostly, he was sulking. When his circuit took him past the chess tables, he couldn’t resist stopping by one whose occupants were in deep concentration, their game nearly finished. “Not that one,” he muttered, as one of the men reached to make his move, then took the turn himself. “You’ll thank me later.” Ignoring their shock, and frankly, their irritation, he smiled and carried on with his walk. He was on his second pass through, paying no attention to the glares being sent in his direction when he noticed a man still sitting alone at one of the tables. “Playing against yourself? Isn’t that dull.” Of course, Nikola had been known to get bored playing against others. At the sound of someone speaking to him, Erik glanced up, glacial eyes lifting from where they’d been studying the board. It wasn’t some cheap plastic set either, found at a toy store - no, he’d actually wandered into a hobby shop in the city, finding a set with some rustic charm, made of maple and walnut. It had cost a good chunk of his first paycheck from working at the smithy, but he didn’t mind. Chess was important to him, and he’d played almost everywhere with Charles. At the X-Mansion, on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial. In Paris there, toward the end of everything, when Erik offered another game to smooth things over - indeed, chess was more than a game. It was a symbol of their hostile friendship, him and Charles. He missed that, as much as he hated to begrudgingly admit it to himself. And he hadn’t found anyone else to sit across from here either, not that he’d been looking much. “I find most don’t have the patience for a good game,” he replied, accent light (it was kind of a mish-mosh of a bunch of different timbres anyway), tone vaguely amused. People. No, they certainly weren’t patient creatures at all. “Day drinker?” he asked, motioning toward the glass the man carried. Nikola held up the bottle of wine with a grin, examining the label. “Well, when isn’t it a good time for a decent red? I’d offer to share, but…” He lifted his single glass, pouring himself another generous measure. “There are more thrilling activities.” Not to mention how much a person could get done in the time it took to play a single game. But it wasn’t as if he had anything better to do. Without invitation, he sat down in the seat opposite, setting down his bottle but keeping his glass in his hand. “Shall we?” “Luckily I’m not one to always be searching for a thrill,” Erik replied, eying the glass - he couldn’t discern what kind of red it was from here, but he had never been a sommelier. He sometimes enjoyed the finer things in life - food and clothes, and he always liked to look put together at the very least - yet he certainly hadn’t been raised that way, and when it came to wine he was mostly convinced that anything over a ten-dollar bottle all just tasted the same anyway, and those who claimed it didn’t were faking it. So no, he wasn’t offended that the stranger who spoke to him didn’t offer to share - and he wasn’t fully human, Erik could tell that much; it was enough to spark his interest. He let out a puff of air when the man sat, something enlivened. “Sure,” he nodded, setting up the board for a new game. “Though I played against a psychic for many years so I’ve gotten quite good at it. I’m Erik, by the way. Fairly new here.” Everything Nikola did seemed deceptively casual, his movements almost too precise even when he was relaxed; and though the bottle looked well on its way to being empty, he didn’t appear affected by it at all. He wasn’t exactly sipping it either, but he did savor the first drink from the freshly poured glass. He no longer got any benefit from ordinary food and drink, nor did alcohol have any meaningful effect on him. He still drank wine out of habit and because he enjoyed the range of flavors he could taste. “Nikola Tesla,” he introduced himself with another broad grin, “I’ve been here a couple of months.” Gesturing to the board with his free hand, he added, “I haven’t played in years. The last time, let's see, it must have been with James.” When it came to chess colors Erik was usually black, so he waited to make his move - however, the introduction of whom he was actually sitting across from had him arching an eyebrow way, way up. “The Nikola Tesla?” he asked, because of course he had heard of the famous inventor - the Tesla coil, radio parts (though another inventor had been given credit - all those patents, what a mess), the rotating magnetic field. He knew that the waypoints seemed to bring in a variety of people, but never any actual historical figures or other inventors, from what he understood - was Thomas Edison also walking among them? “And what have you been doing, these past couple of months? Vallo must be quite a change for you,” he mused. It was a change for everyone, but some settled in and accepted the circumstances easier than others. Always pleased when people recognized his name, Nikola brightened. One could almost see his ego inflating as he moved his chess piece. “The very same.” His mood shifted again at the mention of the last couple months, however, his eyes darkening slightly before he reined himself back in, settling passively back in his seat with another drink from his wine glass. His true nature was always closer to the surface when he was, for want of a better word, hungry, and he had been going longer and longer between doses, despite a ready supply of blood in this place. He’d made Helen a promise long ago, and he intended to keep it as long as he could. But he’d need proper lab access, and money, if he wanted to avoid drinking blood indefinitely. “Drinking,” he answered finally, slightly swirling the liquid in his glass. “It’s not been so much of a change as you might think.” “Ah, I see,” Erik nodded, moving the black knight. Chess was a good strategy game, a good way to keep him on his toes - though he supposed it was tempting to hole up someplace and drink, especially when you didn’t know anywhere here and no one knew you. He continued to be wary of ‘settling in’ or building a life, as it were. Not that he even knew how to do about doing that in the first place - he’d tried that before and it was a spectacular failure. Mostly he just hoped that he’d get sent back where he was supposed to be. At least on Genosha, he had a purpose. One that was important - and he wasn’t hurting anyone. “And do you hope to do next?” he inquired, since he doubted Nikola Tesla wanted to spend his days being idle. Or did he? For all the game was about strategy, Nikola didn’t seem to give it much consideration, though his gaze did stay primarily focused on the board between them. “Job hunting. Apparently.” His irritation was evident, and he took another swallow of wine to drown the bitterness. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d had a job because he needed rather than wanted one. The only work he’d done in recent memory had been the work he’d chosen, jobs he had taken or created to meet his own purposes. He thought back to the early days, digging ditches, and drummed his fingers on the table. It was either that or rely on less than legal means to obtain money for the duration one was stuck here - to each their own, but Erik would prefer to lay low and now have to deal with the same kinds of hardships he faced back home. Likely being here would never give him a sense of belonging, of peace, like Genosha did - but he wasn’t about to make waves either. “Aren’t we all,” he smiled wryly, making his next move. “What sort of job are you looking for?” He assumed something in the field of science or research, but who knew. Perhaps Nikola Tesla wanted to branch out to another field entirely. Nikola wasn’t above cheating or stealing, and the last especially tight spot he’d found himself in, he’d faked his death and disappeared for 60 years. But he’d had help and the world was bigger. Helen wasn’t here to clean up whatever mess he created this time. He wasn’t even completely sure she’d survived the blast. “Somewhere with a lab.” He flashed his companion a grin. “The less oversight, the better.” If he knew much about him, he probably knew he preferred to work alone. He also preferred being able to use someone else’s money and resources to work on his own projects. The work he was meant to do tended to be done on the side, if it was interesting. If not, he didn’t really mind telling them why they were a waste of his time. “What do you do?” Understandable. Erik wasn’t really a fan of oversight either - his track record at achieving his goals was indicative of that. “I’m something of an expert with metal,” he said, wintry eyes dropping to study the board - but he could multitask efficiently; he and Charles always had conversations, philosophical or otherwise, over a good game of chess. It was nice out here too, in one of those perfect man made parks with benches, plenty of green trees, flowers all year round, koi ponds. The sun wasn’t too intrusive and there was a pleasant, summer breeze. “So I found work at a smithy - in the forest there’s a village with a rustic feel to it, with the taverns and other shops. I tend to prefer that to large, noisy cities.” He squinted thoughtfully. “But if you’re looking for laboratory work, you might inquire over the network? People are...exceedingly helpful, it seems.” It was almost bizarre. “The young woman offering to make weapons and armor? Interested in microfusion.” Nikola didn’t care to converse with most people. Truthfully, he usually felt they were beneath him. But he’d rather enjoyed that discussion. He appreciated intelligence. Asking for help, however, wasn’t something that set well with him, no matter how helpful the city’s other displaced residents seemed. His distaste for the idea likely showed as he made his next move and took another drink of his wine. “Yes. You’d think there’d be more fighting.” People pulled from who knew how many different times and places. It wasn’t natural for them all to get along so well. “Oh, yes - Brigitte,” Erik supplied, tone brightening a little. He was fond of her - she was almost always in good spirits, and he didn’t know how she managed that. But he respected it. Even a sourpuss grump like him could respect it, anyway. “She’s pleasant to work for.” He simply received his assignments, figured out what he needed to do, and was free to do it - no one was hovering, or constantly watching over his shoulder. Otherwise that would be maddening. And as a person who had come from constant fighting, a neverending struggle between mutants and humans, he too was surprised that things were so docile here. Or that the residents of Vallo weren’t up in arms about so many interlopers. “I’m still expecting a fight,” he admitted. “Or for the natives to get restless. But in the meantime, I’ll just keep my head down - checkmate,” he added, with a little grin. Attacking on the queen side. It was one of the best strategies for black. Nikola had liked her, as well. She was interesting. He didn’t say that about many people, him being, well, himself. “Well played,” he acknowledged, finishing off his wine and pouring the last of the bottle into his glass. Usually, he wasn’t such a good sport. Everything was a competition, and he hated to lose. But he had bigger concerns. He stared at the liquid in his glass, considering his options. “The network.” No, he didn’t like it, but perhaps it was his best option. What was it he’d said to Helen? How the mighty have fallen. “Something positive will come of it,” Erik assured, and he wasn’t great at pep talks or epic speeches (no, that was Charles’ forte - and gladly so, because handling the grand deliverances seemed to get tiring after awhile) but he could spare a little bit of encouragement for someone who was having difficulty getting used to life in Vallo. He gestured toward the chess board with a hand as well. “And we can play whenever you’d like.” If nothing else, chess was a good way to focus and stay sharp. Now that he’d found someone who was open to a game or two with him, well, he wouldn’t squander the opportunity. Nikola nodded, then stood, grinning as he bowed his head slightly. “Until next time.” He took his glass with him as he walked away, but he left the bottle behind. |