vergiss der qual, nun muss sich alles, alles wenden | au.

[transferences]

[ He's out for at least thirty minutes, this much he knows when he comes to and allows his head to loll to the side, forcing his eyes open to nothing but darkness as the sun is no longer visible on the horizon. His hand fumbles along what he can see of the outline of the cockpit's dashboard, but even as his fingers close around the tranceiver and bring it up to his face, he breathes no relief -- it's been damaged in the crash, he can't send out a distress call nor coordinates to his current position, and on German territory it won't take long before he's found.

He's surprised that they haven't arrived at the site by now, in fact; it's too quiet, and while he can hear them - soldiers in the distance, hints of thoughts - he can't truly filter them out in his current state, the slickness of blood trailing down his face in a warm river and clinging to his skin as it begins to dry. He makes himself move, though, clenches his teeth as he pulls his legs free and shoves himself off the seat to climb out of the wreckage, because lingering when he's lost as much time as he has already will surely get him captured.

The Nazis are hardly known to show much mercy.

Feet on the ground, his knees feel as though they might give out but he heads for the treeline, in the direction opposite to the one he can estimate the Germans are approaching from. Nightfall has either been a blessing or a curse, he hasn't quite decided yet, but his inability to see includes an inability on his enemies' part as well. They'll have to rely on light sources and first and foremost their hearing, but Charles, he has his mind -- an advantage of sorts, at least, in a situation where he is most certainly at the disadvantage. ]

Comments

[token_vengeance]

[Erik had seen the plane go down; after all, he had been the one to take it done.

He was working by himself, this time--he had earned that privilege from Schmidt. After proving himself time and time again, he had been sent out to do this--take down an enemy plane, and bring back any survivors.

Erik was determined to do just that; he didn't want to disappoint the man who in some ways was more like a father to him than a leader. He had raised him since the death of his mother (that was a blur in his own mind, so unsure of how it had gone down).

A perfect weapon--that is what he had been trained to be, bred to be. It's what the Schmidt wanted--needed. He said that as the only one like him in the world (a freak, a genetic abnormality), he had to do his best to beat the vicious English, who would most likely capture him and cut him up for science.

So he did what he could to make sure that would never happen.

Pressing towards the plane crash (opposite of the other Germans that might have been showing up), he started to reach out with his powers, trying to sense any movement just below the tree line.]

[transferences]

[ As soon as his eyes adjust enough to make out the shapes of trees he can move quicker; it's not quite a run, not with the terrain beneath his feet as uneven and difficult to navigate as it happens to be, but he makes it into the forest before he can be spotted which means he'll be a whole lot harder to track down. It wouldn't have taken a medic to conclude that he's got a concussion from the crash -- the dizziness, the pounding in his head, the unconsciousness, but also and most importantly, the white noise that drowns out almost every thought he picks up.

Perhaps it's the reason why he doesn't realize he's no longer alone until it's too late - the thought that hits him is sharp, clear, projected directly at him which means that the person is close and most likely aware of his presence. It causes his steps to slow, makes him change direction to possibly avoid contact and a confrontation, but he isn't so lucky that the soldier simply passes by him.

It takes focus, concentration to break through the static, but he presses the tips of his fingers to his temple and manages to project something that's a mere thought rather than a change in brain signals - you're not going to hurt me - but it's something, effort that might save him from a bullet to the chest if nothing else. ]

[token_vengeance]

[Erik sensed the other man coming, and was about to remove his weapon from his holster when he heard a voice in his head.

It startles him, causing him to fumble--his powers only jiggling the gun in the holster, instead of completely removing it.]

How--

[He speaks allowed in German, shaking his head; it couldn't be real, what he just heard. Something playing tricks on him. Crashing through the clearing, he came face to face with the Brit, pale eyes meeting blue.

In careful, practiced English, he speaks.]

Drop your weapon.

[Because he's too startled to remove it himself; it was just in his head, nothing else. No one could get in his mind--it would take a special, like him.

And he was alone.]