a closed starter for @lcnterncruz from here, re: “we’re all a little stronger than we think we are.”
erik almost wants to let out a bark of laughter at her words. perhaps not at her, but at this fabricated belief system these heroes seemed to swear by. everything was sunshine and rainbows and justice would prevail but... it was all bullshit. and for a moment, he weighs his next move carefully in the back of his mind. to shatter her foundation of beliefs or to allow her to live in naivety - both were tempting though the male can only muster a smirk. “look, lantern, you don’t gotta preach that shit to me. i know your lil’ league and your lantern buddies use this... overbearing optimism as some kinda mantra but i seen way to much to believe in fairytales anymore.”
“I hear that.” She chuckled, recalling her last moments of being in the office. Part of Pepper misses it and the other, well it’s just happy for the reprieve from paperwork and headaches “Hell no, I would never buy a property that gaudy.” Pepper remarks afterwards, biting back a cackle the closer they get to the mansion. “I’m more of a penthouse suite kind of woman, anyway. This place—its only temporary. I hope.”
He remains quiet despite the other’s comment about the state of the mansion. Erik had too much on his mind to return any pleasantries, though when she mentions her staying at the mansion being temporary, he offers a nod. “Where are you from? You know, when you ain’t out here?” He walks the few steps ahead of her to open one of the large doors, allowing her in before him.
she turned her gaze downwards once erik replied, slipping her hands into the pockets of her pinafore before looking back up at the man she hoped she could consider as a friend. “you’re too kind to me, erik.” barbara emitted a brief giggle, “well, there was something i was wondering if you could give me a hand with? you know, put your skills up to good use.” she tilted her head as she sent him a smile. “if you’re up for the challenge, i mean.” after a slight pause, babs gestured for erik to follow her as she stepped away from the doorway. “it might be an engineering task and it might not be entirely legal, unless you have an issue with that?”
when she says he’s too kind to her, he almost wants to mutter an i know. the way he acted with barbara was a way he hadn’t to anyone in years, at least, not unless it was someone who could do something for him. but he didn’t want or need anything from babs. he instead just offers a nod to show interest in whatever it is she needed his skills for. “that some kinda reverse psychology shit?” he asks teasingly, keeping his frame against the doorway. “you already know i’m up for any challenge, b.” she parts from him and motions for him to join her, though he’ll remain standing for a few beats. “nah, no issues with that. though i’m gonna have to admit, i ain’t really pegged you for the illegal type.” his words are topped off with a smirk as he follows behind her, arms that were once crossed over his chest now dropped to his sides. “now can i get more detail? or this some kinda undercover deal?”
over the course of the last year, t’challa grew very familiar with people no longer bowing at his presence. not that he ever wanted anyone too, especially his colleges. he was not a king here in 1973 but just a man fighting for a cause. one he silently hoped erik would join. he glances down at the area where his blade was last, vividly remembering the moment as if it was yesterday. he should be asking why, or how the man was even here, alive. but the king knew better than that, he knew exactly how he was here. all that was left was figuring out the timeline of which he was from, and by his words and the formation of his features he could only assume it was after the pair met. tension seemed to grow quickly as the pair stood in the room, the walls of the mansion seeming to grow smaller. he allows silence to take over once more, almost unsure of what to say. his hands move to rest behind him, finally letting the huff of air out he’d been holding. “you are in westchester, new york. 1973, the x-mansion.” he finally replies.
when t’challa finally answers his question, it still leaves erik wondering why he was here. there was no possible way for him to be alive - that was, unless t’challa went against his wishes. if his cousin were to keep him alive, it was for no other reason than to lock him up for the damage he caused to wakanda - to their home. anger lights within him in this moment as he takes a few hasty steps toward the other in an attempt to close the gap between them. “you do this?” erik’s lifting a hand to pull down the collar of his shirt slightly, exposing the spot in which he’d been feeling residual pain from his stab wound. it had been healed, or so he thought. it looks as though he was never hurt to begin with. “i told y’all to let me die. there’s no way in hell i’m livin’ a life of bondage, especially not one under your thumb.” there’s nearly a growl to his words, jaw clenched in an attempt to hold back the many malicious words that resided on his tongue.
She doesn’t know him or his life story but what she does understand is a certain sadness in his demeanor, noticing how it changes from hostile to docile in a matter of minutes. And while Pepper would like to believe it’s her authority that allows for this miraculous change, she can’t help but to sense that’s only a small aspect. The feisty brunette then clears her throat, not wanting to seem too emotional over the matter before she opens her mouth to speak. “Hey, you’re heading that way, right? Let’s go together. I could use the company even from a kid like you.”
Erik knows better than to mistake the calm that overcomes him from being in the other’s presence for an ally. The uncertainty as to the reason he’d been brought to New York nags at the back of his mind as she starts toward the large mansion. The chill in the air is such a sharp contrast to the warmth he felt under the golden sunset of Wakanda, the drastic change causing his arms to cross over one another. “Guess so. Ain’t really sure where I’m s’posed to go.” He’s not sure if she’s from Westchester, or if she was in the same boat as him, just showing up without rhyme or reason as to why. “This your place?”
stood in one of many hallways of the mansion, barbara emitted a sigh as she noticed the mistletoe hanging above them both. just as luck had it she was in the company of erik, of all the new arrivals to peak her interest. aware of his academic background from her past files, she wanted to ask him for some assistance, before noticing the greenery above. babs was quick to avert her gaze once he noticed it also. “it’s too bad i’m not wearing heels,” she bared a shrug, with a small smile reaching her lips as she looked back up at him briefly. “there was something i wanted to ask you though, if that’s okay?”
to say erik was confused about his arrival to 1973 was an understatement. as soon as he touched down he still felt the sharp pain in his chest where his cousin had stabbed him what felt like moments before. but upon removing his hand, he came to see that the skin hadn’t broken at all. he was perfectly fine. this only erupted a million different questions in his mind, however, including: did t’challa go against my wishes and have shuri heal me? was i brought to ‘73 to continue the fight for those who were oppressed? or was his story not quite over yet? despite the days he spent scouring the mansion for answers, erik had come up short. so he decided to lay low. he already ran into half of wakanda here and it was obvious his presence wasn’t wanted - not that it mattered, he was used to barging his way into wherever it is he wanted to be. and at that current moment it was one of the many common rooms, rooms he’d been avoiding since the uproar in festivities. he never had the experience of joyous holiday season until he was much older, his idea of a happy new year being the few letters and cards he got from friends and distant relatives while he was stationed overseas. she catches his gaze almost immediately, a head of bright red hair poised beneath the doorway to a hallway. he joins her, his much taller frame leaning against the it as his gaze settles on her. “yeah, it’s a real shame.” lips almost form into what seems to be a smirk as he eyes her with interest, arms lifting to cross loosely around his chest. “for you, red, anything. wassup?”
Pepper has already determined that boy has NO sense of decorum when it comes to authority, the older of the two curious as to who has been raising this child because his behavior is just unacceptable; he obviously needed a good smack upside his head. Oh, he got the right one, today. Pepper silently watches as he stands, moving closer to her as if he were trying to intimidate her. Ironically, he looks even more like a child than ever. “You don’t know how properly address an adult?” The businesswoman asks with a raised eyebrow, eyeing him up and down in blatant judgement. “I swear these kids have no home training.” She lowly mutters to herself before finally answering him. “Westchester, New York. That mansion over there, belongs to a man named Charles Xavier. I don’t know much else but I’m finding out as I go.”
the stern tone that greets him is one that makes erik feel almost reminiscent. he didn’t have any home training, due to the fact that all throughout his childhood and up until eighteen, he never had a home. not a concrete one, anyway. his teen years were a revolving door of foster homes, watching as the faces of his new guardians quickly shifted from hope to horror upon realizing what it is that erik had become. ever since t’chaka murdered his father and apparently lacked the decency to take in his own nephew, erik knew that in this life, he’d never be wanted. and over time, though the realization had hardened him, it groomed him to carry himself in a way to make sure he’d never have to rely on anyone else to get what he wants. he’ll do it him damn self or watch as flames consume whoever it is that tried to stop him. the woman reminded him of one of his first foster homes. it was an older woman with a son nearly erik’s age. she was strict, but she was protective. she was a woman of faith and erik found it beautiful. he always had a vast imagination ever since his father painted pictures in his mind of a long sunset stretched over his home of wakanda. the younger male also couldn’t help but find beauty in the fact that she believed in something so much, she held onto it dearly, like a prized possession. she would always read the two boys bible verses before bed and it only lead for erik to have dreams where like the prophets she read about, he too had people backing him up and celebrating the good he’s done. but the dreams soon turned to nightmares as darkness consumed him, more often than not waking him. she would hold him. she would sing. he felt at home in her arms but just like everything else in his life, she was taken from him far too soon. just when erik felt as though he was getting his bearings, he was knocked ten steps back. a deep inhale calms his frame, cautiously removing his hand from the spot that ached on his chest. he should be dead. t’challa pierced his chest. why was he here? his gaze falls to the ground before lifting to eye the mansion once more. “thank you, ma’am,” it’s said with a nod. “i appreciate your help.”
✕ — isn’t that erik stevens wandering the streets of new york? civilians know them as killmonger and see them as an antihero. as far as i know, the 30 year old stands alone and are rumoured to be pretty caustic & vengeful.
henlo !!! gia here with another charrie bc i’m trash and I Love He. idk who the frick i think i am making intros for my characters nearly a Year into being apart of this lovely group but uhhhh. anyways if y’all wanna read a lil about erik and how i plan to be portraying him, read on !!! i know it’s been a bit since bp came out but if you haven’t gotten around to seeing it - first of all, wtf r u waiting for ???? and secondly, i probably wouldn’t read on bc i’ll be mentioning a bunch of stuff from the film. i’m not going to take much from the comics because. well. i don’t wanna. ANYWAYS !!!! here i go. tw for mentions of murder, death, scarring, overall sadness. blows a kiss to the sky, for my boy.
erik, born n’jakada, was the son of an american woman and a former prince of wakanda. his father, n’jobu, was the brother to shuri and t’challa’s father, t’chaka
his mother was wrongfully incarcerated when he was young and ended up dying in prison. his father raised him in oakland, california and promised the erik that he would one day take him to wakanda, claiming that the sunsets there were the most beautiful in the world - which was something erik held onto even in his final moments of life
when t’chaka found out about n’jobu’s treachery ( via zuri who disguised himself as an american to befriend / gain the trust of prince n’jobu ) he traveled to america to confront his brother only to end up killing n’jobu with his panther claws after his brother made an attempt to shoot zuri
t’chaka kinda left after that leaving erik to discover his father’s body just moments after. this left a grieving erik to vow revenge on wakanda for abandoning him and causing the death of his father
after this erik was bounced around in the system, constantly in and out of foster homes
graduated annapolis ( the united states naval academy ) at 19, and went to MIT for grad school. has a PhD in engineering.
started out as a navy seal and was eventually recruited into a joint special operations command ghost unit, as a black ops mercenary. while in the USAF he would scar his skin in an african tribal crocodile scarring, one scar per kill
due to this savagery, he was dubbed killmonger by peers
erik made a deal with ylysses klaue when it was brought to his attention about a weapon made of vibrainum in the museum of great britain and helped klaue steal the weapon. t'challa, okoye and nakia intervened and were able to capture klaue only to have erik and his group save him. this is when t'challa notices that around erik's neck was a wakandan royal ring
even though erik worked with klaue it didn't stop him from killing the arms dealer in order to gain the trust of wakandan's. he brought klaue's body to w'kabi only to be brought to the king and his council. it is then that killmonger made it clear that he wished to be king of wakanda, revealing his true identity and later challenging t'challa for the throne
before the duel, erik removed his shirt and revealed the meaning behind each scar that decorated his skin. he ends up winning the duel and throwing tchalla over the side of the waterfall, leaving everyone to believe that t'challa was dead, dubbing erik as the king of wakanda.
after going through all the rituals of wakandan kings ( i.e. drinking the fluid of the heart-shaped herb and speaking to one's father's spirit in the ancestral plane ) he became the black panther. he ordered the herb garden to be burned shortly after.
as king, erik supported w'kabi's border tribe army to ship wakandan weapons to go out to operatives around the world so they can spread it to other people of african descent so that they may fight back against their oppressors aka the same plan his father had
this is stopped when t'challa reemerges after having been thought to be dead, returning as the black panther
they fight one final time in the vibranium mines where t'challa and erik's bp suits were virtually useless due to shuri's stabilizers that basically makes vibranium useless. this is when t'challa is able to stab erik in the chest with a spear
erik even compliments t'challa on the move, later telling his cousin about how his father had always promised to take him to wakanda, and about how the sunsets were the most beautiful there. t'challa takes him to watch a final sunset and even offers to have shuri heal him. but erik declined at the thought of being healed solely to be locked up, saying "bury me in the ocean with my ancestors who jumped from ships, cause they knew death was better than bondage". erik removes the spearhead from his chest and dies peacefully.
AS FOR MY PORTRAYAL OF ERIK !!!! a vengeful motherfucker. tho being in ‘73 has definitely thrown him for a loop. the only reason he’s not rampaging here is because he wants to protect those who are oppressed, i.e. the mutants. so he’ll play nice but he’s always got some shit up his sleeve so 👀also a rlly smart boi if you get him talking about what he studied at MIT, notorious flirt, #1 weeb, uhhhhh sad boi. Yeah. that’s all i have. blows a kiss to the sky, for erik.
Shuri stops dead in her tracks at the sound of his voice, there’s no way. her brother had watched him die, but that voice was unmistakable. “you.” she rounds herself on him, eyes narrowing. t’challa was always the calm and collected one but shuri always had a fire burning behind her exterior, a need to be apart of the fight. she takes a step toward her cousin, disgust clearly playing on her features. her eyes are clouded over with anger and she stares down at him. “no one asked for you here. go home,” her accent only gets heavier the angrier she gets. her mind is racing with all the terrible things erik could try and do now that he’s in the past and how she can prevent them from happening. he’s lucky she’s showing him mercy instead of attacking him right now.
it’s made evident by the other’s quick jump to anger that he wasn’t welcome here. though, it isn’t like being unwelcome had ever stopped him before. she’s angry, and rightfully so, but that doesn’t stop a wicked smirk from growing onto his features. “trust me. if i could, i would.” truthfully, erik didn’t know where home was anymore, especially not now, standing in unfamiliar terrain. he uses the hand pressed to the pavement to urge his frame up to his feet, hand still splayed against the spot on his chest where he’d been stabbed what felt like only moments prior. “did you-” he pauses briefly, fingertips still rubbing the sore spot on his chest. “did you do this?” he taps the spot for emphasis. his mind was blurry but he remembers t’challa offering shuri’s skills to keep him alive — to which erik declined — but it was the only explanation for why he’s standing, alive.
Pepper’s grown enough to remember the time, although she was only a child during most of the seventies but there are certain things one tends recall when presented with childhood haunts, like the crown moldings of the house she walks past by on her way to anywhere that made her feel a little sane. It’s only when she hears the gruff tone of the male that Pepper turns her head, balking back as if this child has lost his mind. “Try That again.” She demands, wanting to be spoken to properly.
confusion contorts the male’s features, and there’s a bark of laughter that expands his chest. using the touch against the pavement, erik is lifting to his feet, towering over the other as his hand remains against his chest. it’s almost as though he’s scared of what’ll happen should he remove it. a smirk twists to his lips as he takes a few cautious steps, almost as though he’s checking if any of this was real - if he was really alive again, of it this was all some kind of fucked up illusion. “i asked where i am. i ain’t ever seen this place before.” a hand lifts to motion back toward the mansion, gaze then exploring the greenery that surrounded them.
