ᴇʀɪᴋ (metalize) wrote in valloic, @ 2021-03-06 10:34:00 |
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The weather on Genosha was balmy as usual, a perfect breeze that felt like a salted breath tickling your skin - it made a walk along the beach rather nice, with the grass that reminded Erik of magic wands all on their own, just growing wherever they pleased. Where logic might suggest they shouldn’t, and yet thriving all the same - they moved in the wind like tiny green flags and he recalled again why he loved the island so much. Because of what it represented, a certain sense of freedom, but also how isolated it was and what a reprieve it was from city life. Anka Irene had friends she could play with when her parents had a chance to organize some time to themselves - other parent friends were willing to watch her, which he was grateful for. And Peter, of course, who was always helpful. Before this getaway he’d packed a picnic basket - not a four-course meal or anything, but an authentic picnic basket carrying a box of chocolate pomegranate brownies, two champagne glasses, and a bottle of the bubbly that he kept chilled (otherwise when you popped the cork it was a sticky mess - which could be a metaphor for a few things, but anyway). Yes, he’d brought Rogue here for a little romantic getaway and, yes, there was a reason for it. But he’d work up to that. “Do you want to gather some passionfruit with me?” he asked, setting down the picnic basket in a good spot (and a blanket), turning toward Rogue and resting his hands on her waist. The breeze caused one of those white streaks at the front of her hair, framing her face, to flutter - and he wrapped fingers around that piece of hair, playfully bopping her nose with it. About as playful as he ever got, anyway. “It’ll go nicely with champagne.” Rogue enjoyed this version of Genosha. Free from the sky high buildings and without the death toll that the one in her own world had unfortunately gotten. There was a sense of freedom to this place that she never truly got from the other one. Perhaps that was because of her own bad memories from what that country had been like once and the trauma she’d suffered or maybe it had to do with ill-fated conversations that had ended in nothing but sadness--the same conversation going round and round back home. The answers never changed, no matter how much she wished they might. There was a gentleness to this place, even among the harsh steel lines of the ships and other materials that had been turned into homes. It had become one of her favorite retreats thanks to the man currently beside her. “I ain’t about to say no to havin’ somethin’ to go with any bubbly.” She tilted her head, curious as to why they were having some champagne but held back her questions for the moment. Rogue took hold of his hand, entwining their fingers together before tugging him toward the trees. “I have brownies too,” Erik laughed a little (an amused puff of air, as Rogue tugged him off), taking steps toward the passionfruit vines with her in the lead. “Didn’t make them, but I thought chocolate might be nice.” Those vines (hardy and quite vigorous) twisted this way and that, some crawling to the top of trees where they exploded in colorful blossoms and plentiful fruits. When they were ripe, they basically just fell off the vine and you didn’t really have to pluck them - that was why he had the area beneath them clear, and had kept it that way the times he’d returned to Genosha to tend to the other flourishing trees (mango, coconut, papaya) as well. The ripest, best ones were purple - nearly almost black in color, or potentially a deep gold; they had both growing on the weather anomaly that was Genosha. He gave himself a bit of a lift, using magnetic fields to propel him up toward the top of the trees, where he hovered and checked the progress of the less ripe fruits. One was gently twisted and plucked from the vine. “However many you want, darling. We can bring some back with us too.” “I reckon we can go for about a dozen. Ain’t like we can’t just fly out here if’n we need to snag a few more.” She knew Anka Irene would want one later that day if she picked up the fact that the two of them had enjoyed one or two without her. She held a hand against her forehead, shielding her eyes from the sun as she turned away to look out at the expanse of trees in front of her and then toward the neverending sea that spread out behind her. She’d considered flying to see how far she could manage to get once, to try and navigate the world that they were currently in, but after having slammed into a barrier once doing that on another world the thrill of exploration just wasn’t quite what it used to be for Rogue. And considering the way that the forest shifted and changed, it wouldn’t surprise her if the rest of Vallo did the same. After all, the dinosaur island hadn’t been there when she’d initially arrived. “Ya want anythin’ else to go with this picnic you’ve put together, hon?” A dozen it was. Passionfruit was one of Erik’s favorites, and all you had to do was slice it in half and scoop out the middle to enjoy - tart yet sweet, and definitely unusual, he also considered making some jam with the offerings from Genosha as well. “I don’t need anything else, but if you want anything - feel free,” he said, standing straight from where he’d been picking up fallen, ripe fruits. These all would be good. He had a whole collection gathered in his arms, about a half dozen - now to return to the picnic area, just down the beach a ways. The sky and the water, both so blue, nearly seemed to fuse into one entity - so he took a second to breathe in (and also calm his nerves a little because even former terrorists codenamed Magneto got anxious about proposing) and enjoy the view. Once he got back to the blanket he set everything down and opened the basket, rummaging for the bottle of champagne. “I’m glad we got to come out here. Picked a good time too - no monsters have attacked recently?” His lips quirked up in a sarcastic smirk because, actually, that was last week. Or so. Monster attacks were pretty much a staple at least once a month in Vallo. It had been easy enough to get used to and after the insanity of her home world or even the craziness of the previous worlds she’d been thrust into, Vallo was a breath of fresh air. The place had its own brand of crazy but there was no need to hide any part of who she was here, no insane politics being used to try and corral or tame them. Anka Irene could freely use her powers and learn from others, have a mixed group of friends and that was nice to experience. Maybe one day that would happen back in her own world, but Rogue wasn’t about to hold her breath. Not that she thought much of that world any longer. It was hard to do so when she had a little girl who would never step foot in it. She settled down on the blanket though, arching a brow at Erik’s question. “I’m just happy they end up stayin’ mostly to the forest area.” Rogue was more than happy to have hung up her heroing hat. The cork was popped on the champagne, poured into two glasses. Brownies and passionfruit came next - having planned this picnic decently well enough, Erik had packed utensils too (even if it could be argued he could turn basically anything metallic into a knife), and he used the blade to smoothly cut into one of the fruits they’d gathered. One half was offered to Rogue, for her to scoop out the innards. He’d never really considered himself a hero, but he was glad to hang up his hat there also - or any kind of hat that involved destruction and loss or, say, cosmic entities gone awry. Fighting for mutant rights had been exhausting and even he had to question his methods occasionally after more had gone wrong than had gone right for them all - Genosha was a reprieve from trying to prove something to humanity who would never trust or respect them anyway, until the Jean Grey situation. Before that, Erik hadn’t minded being confined to the island in exchange for him and his refugees being left alone. “Does make the work day more interesting,” he stated, toasting to that. “But we’re happy. Peter’s still around - and Wanda. She’s lost so much too, and I want her to feel safe here on the island.” “Hopefully they’ll both get a chance to find their own brand of happiness here.” She could tell that Peter was beginning to do so. He was good with Anka Irene and the little girl enjoyed getting to be around her brother again. Rogue knew it could be a long path ahead before Wanda might be able to do the same. She knew parts of her story from previous versions of the girl she’d run into in other worlds, but there was always some nuance here and there that was different. Peace wasn’t that easy to come by for some. Not with the baggage that they carried. “These worlds are always what you’re willin’ to make of them.” Some would never find a new path, some would find many. Though, Rogue supposed that was the same for anywhere really. “I am selfishly happy that this place ain’t as well-known among the others though.” It was nice to have their own little island reprieve. Erik supposed he wouldn’t have minded if others came to Genosha - he’d left it open for that purpose, only choosing to ward off his own private domicile that he’d built from the hull of a ship. He invited people to his home as he pleased but only a certain few could just walk in, setting foot across the threshold without being bunged back. The island as a whole was a different story, it was open to the general public - he’d know if anyone was disrespectful to it, and so far no one had been. But Rogue was right, it was nice to have their own safe haven when they needed to escape city life for a bit. He’d gotten used to enjoying a simpler life on the island and, prior to that, a village in Poland that happened to be the perfect place to hide in until it wasn’t. “I think it’s alright to be selfish in that regard,” he said, using a spoon to scoop out bits of flesh and seeds from the passionfruit half he held in his hands. “I’m glad I’ve had you with me. Since the beginning.” They hadn’t jumped into a relationship immediately but she’d been there, when Erik arrived in a strange new place without anyone from home. It meant something. Rogue snagged one of the brownies, taking a bite of it as she listened to him before tilting her head. It didn’t seem to matter which world or how many times she seemed to meet this man--there was always a connection there. Each of them was unique in their own way, but she couldn’t help but be drawn to him. Like a moth to a flame or really, two magnets attracting one another. “I know it ain’t the easiest to get a handle on these sorts of places when ya first arrive. Never hurts to have a friend on your side either.” And in her opinion it never hurt to try and be Erik’s friend. He didn’t have as many as some people, but those he did take to were usually ones he felt a connection to. Or at least that was what she’d seen. “And I’m glad ya let me in.” Because there was never a guarantee that would happen. He liked her accent - quite a bit, actually, the words cloaked in the way it sounded, which was all sweet tea on the veranda and molasses running uphill. It was fascinating to Erik, since he was pretty sure he’d lost most of his original accent - though he spoke a slew of languages and could slip into most accents easily enough. But none that sounded like Rogue. “I love you,” he told her, glancing up with those eyes - clear and blue, winter settling in like soft snowflakes. But when he looked at her they always seemed warmer somehow. He said the words before, frequently, because it was important in case anything happened - he could lose her and Anka Irene, or they could lose him, and holding back wasn’t something he was interested in doing. That only led to regrets. It was always something to hear those words coming from him. He doled them out with much more ease than she was used to many others saying them and she appreciated it more than she could possibly say. Words were all Rogue had been able to have for the longest time, touch denied to her and even now when it wasn’t there was still something about words that she couldn’t get enough of. After over fifteen years of not being able to freely touch anyone, of keeping herself bundled up and wearing gloves more than she ever wanted, she still wasn’t as free with her touch as others might be. It was such a novelty, something she was still getting used to even if she hugged and cuddled or kissed those she loved as frequently as she could. Words were bread and butter though. Something that could be shared and should be often. “I love you too and the life we’ve been creatin’ here.” This life here - it wasn’t perfect, but Erik thought that maybe it was the kind of life his mother would have wanted for him. Small, quiet, with a family - it felt good and he wasn’t hurting anyone. So maybe they didn’t need the addition of being married but he thought it might be nice. As something else, a good thing, to maybe help them both move away from their pasts just a little more - not to forget them entirely, but to live a life where they weren’t dwelling on it. With a flex of his abilities and a quick zip, he summoned the ring he had made himself - it appeared in his palm, a closed fist, but then he uncurled his fingers and offered it to Rogue. The ring - crafted out of a kind of otherworldly titanium used in the production of spaceships, a unique multicolored material he’d gotten from Brigitte’s workshop - floated toward her. “And there’s still a lot to create, and do - together,” he said. “Will you marry me, Anna?” A small part of her might have wondered if they had headed to the island for this exact scenario. The picnic basket, child-free for the afternoon, and the slight nervousness that she’d picked up in him along the way had hinted at it a little, but Rogue hadn’t quite wanted to hold her breath, ready to enjoy their time together if that hadn’t been the case. Her lips tugged into a smile as she reached out for the ring and gently snagged it from the air. It was like nothing she had ever seen before, made from some sort of metal which didn’t surprise her much. She knew it meant he’d made it himself and that made the ring all that more special as she slipped it onto her finger. “I’d love nothin’ more than to marry you.” The ring fit, as Erik knew it would - he made it with Rogue’s hands in mind, of course, and he had them along with everything else about her memorized. His response was this big grin, such a rare thing from him because it was one of those smiles that caused his eyes to go all squinty and put all his teeth on display - he had a wide smile, and didn’t let it show upon his face very often. But right now, it simply slipped past his defenses - seemed like a good moment to let that all go too. He leaned in and kissed her, hands framing her face and it was a kiss that was a lake he fell into, refreshingly cold and clear and enabling him to forget everything else for the time being. Kind of a tacklehug too, if he were being honest, but at least he didn’t knock over the champagne or squash the brownies. “I never thought I could be this happy again,” he admitted. And even better, he wasn’t running from his past or trying to keep it hidden. “Whatever kind of wedding you want - we’ll make it happen.” In some ways happiness was a fleeting thing, something to grasp hold of and grip onto for as long as possible before it would inevitably slip through ones fingers. That seemed to be even more so the case in places like Vallo, where they were at the whim of something they didn’t even know. Here one second and gone the next. There wasn’t anything to do about that and Rogue had learned at least one world ago to not fixate on it. Instead she enjoyed every moment she did get with the people she loved, seeing each day as a new chance to enjoy what the place had to offer. She laughed at his words though, the sound reverberating through her body as she curled her hands around his own. “I ain’t needin’ a weddin’, unless you’re really wantin’ one. Just whatever we need to do here to make it official.” Erik didn’t really need one either, come to think of it - his wedding with Magda had been small, barely any attendants, held in a tiny church in their village. A salt and bread blessing as part of a simple ceremony, followed by food and Polish wine - that was all fine with him. In Vallo, he supposed a large wedding was an option. They could afford one, and there were certainly plenty of places to throw such a lavish affair. But honestly, the idea had him inwardly cringing a little. He was glad he and Rogue were on the same page there - but then again, they usually were. With most things. “That sounds nice - just making it official,” he said, thumbs stroking her cheekbones. “Then perhaps we can have a bonfire here on the beach. Invite more people for that part.” They had family and friends they would want to celebrate with, even if they didn’t hold a ceremony attended by the masses. That grin was back, a little more subdued - and maybe a little mischievous this time as well. “We could celebrate our engagement here, right now though?” he suggested (and suggestiveness present in this tone). No one was around, no one on the beach - it was a romantic setting, and he was always willing to take advantage of the solitude when they could. Celebrating afterward seemed like the way to go about it. They could have Anka Irene and Peter join them at the courthouse and then join everyone else a few hours later on the island to celebrate their new beginning. It was a nice testament to the life they had been building together in Vallo. Rogue arched a brow at his words and tone, curling her fingers in the collar of his shirt. Time for the two of them could be limited some weeks, depending on what was happening with their daughter and her nightly habits of sleeping or not sleeping through them. So Rogue wasn’t about to let this one go to waste. She hooked her fingers through the buttons of his shirt and pulled him forward to kiss him, letting him know she was more than happy to celebrate their engagement together on the beach. |