Tell me what you think of my roleplaying anonymously.

I wonder who he holds accountable for his downfall.

ok yes i may be evil and morally corrupt but i’m also incredibly beautiful and i think that makes up for it honestly

something stirs in erik——  he remembers, before the camps, his name was max. he can remember   his mother’s soft hands, but  .. little more. trauma has led to repression; he  holds down good and bad for the sake of cauterizing wounds, bundles and  seals them away so they will not, cannot, hurt him again. what is left of edie  comes alive, mostly, in his dreams—there, no boundaries exist, and his   nightmares are the masters, but sometimes, he will have a good dream.                                                    ( he’s never sure if it really happened or not. )       i want you to know i agreed       with everything you said. & he had, unfortunately. mutants were the extent of the human  race; mutants were the future, not mindless apes who did not  know how to fly. while his hate is still .. tremendous   ( he could  not be the better man, as charles had urged; unfortunately, you  killed my mother, and if shaw is still alive, that means he has not  paid his blood price ),  he can feel that beast of anger shifting ar- -ound in his stomach, settling, if only to remain dormant on land  mines. speak wrongly to me and i will let it out.  i would do it again, he says, and erik grinds his teeth, even if  the lines in his face begin to recede, even if he does not move,  even if he keeps his hand over the table top, curling his knuckles  against the wood. he doesn’t meet his eyes. the boy in him is too  afraid. terrified. his very impending presence leaves a sinking fee- -ling in erik’s stomach, like the fly uneasy in the spider’s parlor, but  he is no fly, and shaw is no spider.    ❝ you’re wrong, ❞ he murmurs, considerably tamer, softer, still never     daring to lift his head.  ❝ without you, i am still me. i am still magneto.     i am strong. you are the only person that owes me his blood, you     are the only person that forces me off my composure. ❞              ( yes, he knows just how he is acting. it is hard to temper. )  ❝ there’s nothing to take from me this time. ❞    magda, anya.. dead.. and    charles would protect himself.  ❝ whatever you have to say, get on with it. ❞    before i change my mind. 

     ❝ such big words coming from you. strong. you truly have grown, erik. ❞        yes, word choice is everything to him ---- if he wanted to, he would erupt        like vesuvius. such a silly name & for what? is it a gimmick? something        the world should remember and fear? if it did anything, it only reinforced        the patheticness of modern-day mutants who truly know nothing of who         they are & what they can do. they do not embrace; instead hiding behind        a facade and for what ------ to hide from humans? it's pitiful is what it is.         mutants bow to [ no one ] & this was a philosophy he made clear from the        very beginning. who were humans, beings on a lower shelf of the food chain,        to a mutant? little specks longing to be godkings & instead they become         the meal of those greater than they. it's amusing, that's what it is and this time,        shaw actually does laugh ---- quite loudly, to be honest. 

       ❝ magneto. ❞ and another laugh escapes. ❝ is that what you call yourself        nowadays? does it make you forget? does it make you feel as if your past        is irrelevant? your escape pod to a new life, yes? how quaint of you. ❞        he had to give it to the younger one, his will-power had grown immensely,        and the strength of his heart & soul was something to be proud of. whatever        he chose to believe, at least he stuck with it. it's something to admire &        shaw isn't afraid to admit such a thing. his boy truly has grown up into a        fine man -------------- for once, he actually feels a false sense of pride. 

      ❝ my words are finished, for now. you go on, live your life        ---------- when the time comes, we'll meet again. ❞

it takes all of erik not to backlash against this idle conversation  ( and  how the notion sickens him, that he can stifle and smother himself in  a poor attempt to remain civil, to not battle this man here, now, in front  of everyone ), tongue cutting against the enamel of his teeth when he  physically restrains his tongue. a pace sets in erik’s spine; he moves for- -ward, back, slight, but rhythmic, a metronomical movement conjured in  an attempt to rock and soothe himself, to wrap up the blistering wounds  that have been torn open simply by seeing him, by hearing his voice. i’ll kill you again and make sure you don’t come back, some part of him  hisses, i’ll crush your skull and grind your ribcage into the ground.             his head has gone dizzy with the rising blood pressure;             every so often, his fists pump and clench like a beating             heart. small, dark flecks smatter his vision when he blinks—            hard, trying to clear them away, and sometimes they’re gone.  i was no nazi, he says, and when erik grits his teeth, laughter  escapes between the spaces. it’s hollow, lacks amusement,  the death rattle of the dying martyr that got the last laugh, your  sweet tea was laced with lye, my dear.  he was no nazi, but he  committed a similar atrocity. he was no nazi, but erik’s mother  was slaughtered like a pig. he was no nazi, but erik bears phys- -ical scars from surgical exploration and mental scars from the  rest. they made me a sonderkommando, he thinks, bitter, angry,  the smell of the dead pervading his nostrils, they made me shovel the bodies of jews into the furnaces, but you are not a nazi?  ❝ i don’t care. do you know what it feels like to be strapped  down to a table, tools in your mouth, pulling apart your jaw,  knives in your belly and in your back? i was thirteen, and  you took everything from me. ❞

    one fatal flaw of the magnetic was that his could not hold back his emotions.       even the best of foes and friends alike knew that simple notion --- to be in      control meant more than even the mightest of fiends could comprehend. once      emotions run rampant, it is only a matter of moments before the walls come      crumbling down & defeat is imminent. shaw has has decades, hell centuries      to restrain himself & by the time little erik was in his grasp, he had mastered      his emotions and his own abilities ----------- nothing would hold him down.       if there was one thing he longed to teach erik, it was that control meant life or      death and even after his tests & experiments, the younger still hadn't learned.       it was almost saddening but tears would be wasted not for one such as he ---       oh no, this was only a moment of utter clarity. perhaps, erik wasn't the one      he looked for. perhaps, this was all in vain. oh well, a master can always find      new pupils when old ones grow up, yes?       at his words, shaw would only grin as he began to stand, straightening out his      jacket as eyes of blue keep watch of the other ---- sudden movements wouldn't      be smart for either of them. however, the telepath was not around so no act of      physical violence would be smart in erik's case. they both knew what the outcome      would be. 

     ❝ --------- i did, erik, & i would do it again. even after all of this time, you may have      learned to hone your power but you are still that weak boy. those eyes, i see your      mother as my bullet pierced her body. you want to grow angry at the past, so be it,      but it will NOT bring her back. you want to be angry at me? i made you. without me,      you are and will always be n o t h i n g. ❞      & he waits --- it's a test. if he fails, he moves on. if not, then, well --- we'll see. 

                    have you ever seen a human heart?              IT LOOKS LIKE A FIST, WRAPPED IN BLOOD.

      independent rp blog for johanna mason of the thg book series       est. nov’13 ; revamped feb’15       canon & au verses ; under construction             written by gem.

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Frankenstein’s monster.