What: Erik sits with The Daily Planet for an interview about Genosha: who they are, what their government is like, their hopes for the future. Tagging: Erik Lehnsherr ( @master-of-magnetism ) & Kara Danvers ( @maidenxfmight ) Warnings: Holocaust mention, genocide mention, death mention, injury mention
KARA: “You ready?”
Was she? Kara’s jaw hurt from how hard her teeth had been clenched. The notes on her page seemed to jump off, the contrast too high. There was too much noise. The cameraman’s heartbeat pounded like a drum against the inside of her skull. She’d rather be home, tucked under her blankets with her ear-muffs on. Room dark.
“Yeah, I’m ready.” If she tilted her glasses down, she could see him. If she cared less, she could fry through the wall that separated them. Someone said ‘bring him in’ and Kara pushed her glasses up her nose.
ERIK: This, he’d expected. The world had turned upside down over one long weekend, and everyone was still trying to make sense of it all. There were mixed responses to the change of status quo, thus far, and news organizations had been clamoring for a word from the leader of the world’s newest sovereign state.
If Erik had his way, he’d be there now, but it was important to go through the motions this early on. It was strange but freeing to be able to walk the streets of New York without concealing himself.
The producers were chatting at him now, presumably trying to prep him, but Erik was more focused on trying not to smack at the hand of the makeup artist tapping powder on his face. As it turned out, he didn’t have to–she was brushed aside by the producer, who had one hand pressed to his earpiece. “Right through here.”
It was Kara. Because of course it was. He knew, he’d been prepped, but his ribs still twinged slightly at the memory of the last time he’d seen her. Even so, he plastered on a cool smile, settling himself into the chair opposite her. “Ms. Danvers.”
KARA: She waited until he was seated across from her before meeting his eyes. She looked at the set of the cameras, the rug beneath their feet, the small coffee table with the obligatory glasses of water that sat on top, him. He looked the same, and her heart moved double-time in her chest. Rao, she didn’t want this.
But she kept her gaze firm, and she refused to back down. He’d told her to embrace her anger, and she was learning. She found a polite smile for the sake of manners, and the camera crew around them. “Mr. Lehnsherr. Shall we get right to it?”
The less time she spent with him, the better. She gave a nod to the cameraman, keeping Erik in her periphery as she watched him count down. “Welcome, ladies and gentleman, to another Daily Planet exclusive. Today we’ll be talking with Erik Lehnsherr about his recent acquisition of Genosha. He has been a vocal proponent of mutant rights for years; a war that only last week ended in a showdown with government authorities. Mr. Lehnsherr, thank you for coming in today.”
ERIK: The cast of her eyes made something between his still-sore ribs and his stomach twist itself into knots. She glanced around the studio, eyes cutting back to him every few moments, and Erik knew intimately that particular sort of wariness. The importance of keeping eyes on a threat without making eye contact and risking the response to that. He could feel the way her heartbeat sped up in her chest, even behind the carefully maintained mask of neutral interest.
She had almost killed him. Could, still, if it came to it. And yet she was afraid. Furious, too, since the heat in her eyes was only just banked, but he knew the signs of fear nevertheless. (She was looking at him like he’d once looked at Schmidt, and he wasn’t… he wasn’t like that. Was he?)
Erik looked away for a moment, shoved whatever that was squarely back into its box. Now was not the time. (Never was preferable.) Focus on Genosha. Only Genosha. Not Kara, not Raven, and definitely not Schmidt.
And then the cameraman was counting down, and Erik plastered back on a cool smile, watching the camera light flick from red to green. Compartmentalization. He settled back in his seat, demeanour shifting into the suave steadiness Kara had become acquainted with in the Before. “It’s my pleasure, Ms. Danvers. The world has changed very quickly, in the last few weeks, for everyone, and I’m honored to help provide what I can of clarity and perspective.”
KARA: “I’m sure our viewers would love some of both.” Kara’s fingers ran over her edges of her notebook. He looked as comfortable in the hot seat as he had in that alley, with a cigarette held loose in his fingers and fire dancing in his eyes. She had to remind herself this was a job, just a job.
She loved what she did, truly. Journalism hadn’t only been about following in Clark’s footsteps, it had been about sharing the truth. Her own planet had died, and everyone she knew along with it, because her parents had kept the truth to themselves. She wondered what truth she was trying to expose here. Genosha wasn’t only for Erik. It was for Scott, for Jean and Gabby and Lorna. Twisting it for them wouldn’t actually help.
Her own feelings didn’t matter, and she tamped them down as best she could. Even when her skin crawled, even when her heart hammered out of her chest.
“Let’s start with your vision for Genosha. It’s obviously new, and will have much growing to do. Tell us about it now, and where do you see it going in the future?”
ERIK: The mention of Genosha made the smile a bit easier, a bit more genuine. He was proud of what they’d accomplished, proud to be able to talk about it.
“My vision is, and always has been, a place where mutantkind can be safe from the oppression we’ve faced for so long in human societies. I lived in Israel for some time, many decades ago, and I quite took to the idea of creating a space where a people that had been roundly oppressed on a global basis could live freely in close community with their own kin. That’s why we offered mutants, and by-birth metahumans, automatic citizenship eligibility. And the island is coming along well, so far. We have a diverse set of mutants on the island who are willing and able to help shape our peoples’ new homeland. There are teams dedicated to terraforming the island and fostering fauna growth, teams dedicated to construction, and then, of course, the Council, led by myself, that will be shaping our national policies. We’ve been able to swiftly secure resources and funding for business growth. In the meantime, transportation between New York City and Genosha is easy–all that’s required is a security check at the border.”
KARA: It had always been hard to argue with Erik. His history had more than earned him the right to his anger, and his love for his people shone through in every word he said. She thought of Jason, and blacks and whites, and all those grey areas in between. What happened to her felt so black and white, wrong, but Erik saw more shades of grey than she did.
Her hands skimmed over her notebook, a movement she worked hard to quell, and her eyes never left Erik. “An admirable vision.” More than a vision, a reality literally growing not too far from where they sat. There was a notable enough pause between one question and the next that her cameraman poked his head around his screen. A question burned on the tip of her tongue, and she swallowed it back. “What would you say to mutants or metahumans who want somewhere safe, but who were possibly…spooked by the violence it took to create it?”
ERIK: A long silence settled between them, in the wake of her noncommittal response, and Erik didn’t falter in demeanor even as the cameramen and producers exchanged confused glances. Silence had a tendency to reveal truths–and there one was, plain as day in the question. Plain to the two of them, anyways.
“Many of us grew up surrounded by violence–if not from the beginning, then certainly from when our powers became clear. Whether it was experimentation, harassment, familial abuse, workplace discrimination, or something else, every single one of us has stories they can tell. And I am sorry that more violence was necessary to break us free. But we tried warnings, we tried negotiations. It is my honest opinion that we went above and beyond our obligations to try for peaceful resolution before the seige, even after they murdered a mutant hero in the middle of Central Park. The X-Men spent years trying to protect humans from threats, even at their own peril. Professor Xavier was happy to welcome students into his home whose families were either unwilling or unable to house their mutant children. We wrote op-eds, we made speeches, we penned explicit warnings that war would come if we weren’t brought to the table to help smooth things out. Instead, humans only raised the stakes.” There was only a hint of anger in his tone, most of it stubbornly crushed under the facade of careful diplomacy. Most, but not all.
“Some of the methods necessary to our win were unfortunate, I’ll freely admit. But it got people to listen, finally. And now we have our own place, where we are building the peaceful society we’ve never had the chance to live in for ourselves. I want the mutants and metahumans who watched their TV screens for that long weekend to know that I didn’t build Genosha as a victory pyre. It is not meant to be a symbol of constant war. It is meant to be for all my people what I always wanted myself–a *home. A safe haven. Nothing more or less.”
KARA: A safe haven. Kara let herself smile, despite the way her heart still hammered against her chest, how she had to remind herself to sit still. It was the message she’d wanted to get out, after all. The only thing that had pulled her out of the moment of shock following Snapper’s given assignment was the thought of ensuring the message of hope that was Genosha itself would get out.
That Erik somehow answered her unspoken question in the process of answering her actual question was unimportant.
(It still curled tightly in her chest, settled heavy on her shoulders. She still had to swallow against the nauseous feeling of it in her throat.)
The room seemed to shift around them, the tension rising in the wake of the small strain of anger in his voice. Kara remained steadfast in the center, “You built peace at the end of a war you’ve been fighting a lot longer than just one weekend. And it is peace, for any mutant or metahuman who wishes to enter.” Alien was notably absent. The tension in the room told Kara it wasn’t the time or the place to point that out. This was about Genosha. “For anyone looking to enter, what do you think day-to-day life will be like for citizens of Genosha? What can they expect in the ways of laws, economy, relations and movement between other countries?”
ERIK: The next question was expected, wasn’t a surprise, but his heartbeat ticked up in speed once, twice, thrice before he took control to slow it down, gaze and steady smile still aimed at Kara before he turned to the camera.
“In some ways, Genosha won’t be all that different from what our citizens are used to elsewhere. We have the same basic laws meant to keep the peace. We’re building small businesses, infrastructure, greenhouses for food supply–exactly what you’d expect to find in any community. Obviously, given the nature of our citizenry, we intend to have a large space in society for the use of powers and abilities. No mutant needs to be afraid to use their abilities on Genosha–if you need help learning to use them, Xavier’s Institute has been the golden standard of that sort of education for years. People will find their place in our society where their interests and skills meet, and that is on particular display in the High Council, whose names and positions I do believe I sent over. Warren Worthington is in charge of our Ministry of Commerce due to his expertise in business. Jean Grey is heading up our Ministry of Health and overseeing the construction of our healthcare system due to her medical experience. Charles Xavier is responsible for our Ministry of Education, for obvious reasons. I’ve taken great care to select an experienced and trustworthy Council to guide the direction of our growing country, and they in turn are excellent at scouting talent to best fulfill their own responsibilities.” And now to relations. The truth wasn’t something even those close to him knew, yet, but he knew the story that needed to be told. The one the world needed to hear so they wouldn’t decide Genosha was too much a threat, after all. “As for diplomatic relationships, building and maintaining good relationships with other nations is of paramount importance. We want to serve not only as a safe haven, but as an advocate for our people abroad, improving conditions for mutants and metahumans who may not wish to relocate. As I mentioned before, movement into and out of Genosha currently requires only a security check at the border. We’re working on the creation of passports and visas, so it’s possible that the border may tighten in the future, but such is the case for any country. Border security varies based on the political landscape—and we’re making a good-faith effort to be far more open than I think most new countries would be in such close proximity to one with which they recently finished a war. I want to extend my thanks to the U.S. State Department for their willingness to work on forging a positive working relationship between our nations despite the obvious rocky history.”
KARA: His heart ticked up, and Kara zeroed in on it. She watched the expressions play across his face, his smile steady but the moment between the question and his answer notable. Her fingers danced across her notebook, and she wanted to push. It was half her job, wasn’t it? Get answers. But there was a stark difference between sitting across the table from someone demanding answers for an article in print, and sitting in front of a myriad of cameras.
“That brings us to the actual layout of your government. Are you looking at a democracy, wherein officials are elected after the initial establishing of the country is done; a constitutional monarchy?” Her lips ticked up, imagining Jean with a crown. But that would mean Erik falling into a soft life somewhere, finally at peace. The race of his heart and the anger flashing through his eyes before she’d flown away from Genosha told Kara peace was still so far away for Erik Lehnsherr.
ERIK: He could see the questions burning on her tongue by the way her fingers curled around the pen and skirted across the page, as if she were mentally imagining it filling with all the answers she wanted to demand.
But she was not alone with him, for better or for worse, the both of them were on camera, and there were lines, professional and personal, that she wouldn’t cross. Not here.
“Certainly, that’s along the lines of my vision for what lies further down the line. I believe that people deserve a right to be represented by their government–something which was decidedly not the case for mutants in America, before the recent restructuring of the Accords. That’s one of the primary reasons I established the Council; of course, I could hardly be expected to do all the work on my own, but large decisions for our country are meant to be discussed by myself and relevant Council members–or for the most important decisions, amongst the entire Council. I can understand that from the outside it might look like simply delegating tasks, but my Council is meant to lay the groundwork for a deliberative body that makes decisions for our people. For purposes of ease, in these early days, I have the final say as of now, but I chose people that I trust to be honest with me, not simply tell me what I want to hear. I’m confident that the decisions we make moving forward will be what’s best for all of our people. But in short, yes: I intend for our country to eventually shift officially to a constitutional monarchy. Eventually, my hope is to abolish the monarchy entirely, but that would obviously be quite a ways in the future.”
KARA: So Jean could end up in a crown. The thought was oddly comforting, even while her heart continued to race. She wanted to do Genosha justice, ensure any mutants wishing to find peace knew there was a place for them. There were viewers who wanted to know everything, and Kara just wanted to be home. She wanted to be somewhere she couldn’t hear his heartbeat.
Her eyes dropped to her notebook, where most of the questions had already been asked. “Of course, of course, yeah. One more question, Mr. Lehnsherr, and we’ll let you get back to what I’m sure is an incredibly busy job building an entirely new country. And again, thank you for taking the time to talk with us today. It means a lot, not only to The Planet, but to so many who are looking at Genosha with so many questions, and even hope.”
She wanted to ask him to promise against violence in the future. She wanted to ask him if had any regrets. She wanted to ask him selfish things she already knew the answer to. She swallowed them down. “If you close your eyes and you imagine Genosha five, ten, fifteen years in the future, what does daily life look like, the culture, the…food, the smells? Is religion engrained in the culture? What does it look like when Genosha goes from an upstart to a home?”
ERIK: She was sitting there asking him what the future looked like, and Erik had to bite the inside of his cheek to refrain from laughing. That was the question, isn’t it? Erik had spent his whole life fighting for a better future, but in all honesty? He’d never expected to live to see it. He’d long ago resigned himself to the idea that this fight would kill him–that he could open the door for others, but wouldn’t make it to the other side.
But here he was, now, and he didn’t know what to do with himself. He could never concede that–not to his family, not to his people, and certainly not to his enemies. He was pushing through, helping construct this new world step by step, but the final vision was still shrouded in clouds on the horizon.
( He should be dead, should’ve been in Raven’s place– )
Erik smiled at the camera and pretended that he’d ever had the optimism to sustain a dream. Pretended that the dreams he’d once had hadn’t been squashed by the people watching this broadcast, all the little humans snuggled up under their blankets at home, again and again and again. Pretended that his dreams hadn’t been massacred in Auschwitz, and burned in Vinnitsa, and killed again by a bullet in Cuba and another in Central Park a decade later. “Genosha is open to all mutants and metahumans, from all over the world. Every one of them will bring different traditions with them, a different piece of fabric in the quilt. As we grow together, new traditions should spring up, native to Genosha, to our species.” They needed to move away from human traditions. Away from humans.
“I see children who can claim a homeland rather than a host, able to play safely in our communities and learn their powers while surrounded by people who can provide the guidance they need. Genosha will be built on community for our people, not competition–all of us working for collective benefit instead of individual wins at the expense of our kin. I see my people using their gifts freely, creating new advances that will change the world. I want a city centre that showcases the best we have to offer–restaurants filling the air with the smells of their food, boutiques of creative wares, monuments commemorating our best and brightest, a government that works efficiently to meet the people’s needs as thy arise instead of being bogged down in political disagreements.”
Erik sat forward, eyes shining with earnestness. “Most importantly, I want every single resident to feel the words I’ve been pushing for years: mutant and proud. Or metahuman and proud, as the case may be,” he tacked on with a chuckle. “Regardless, I want my people to embrace their true nature, their true power. Perhaps some would paint that as a religion: I wouldn’t go that far. I am a Jewish mutant, and I am proud of it. At last our people have their freedom. And if I do my job right, we will never be afraid again.”
KARA: A small silence followed the answer. The cameras took a moment to focus on his face, and Kara tried to parse through everything he’d said. She wanted it for them. For Scott, Jean, Gabby, Lorna. A place to be happy and themselves, to grow and thrive. Again, alien was notably absent, but she pushed it aside.
This was the end, a goodbye, hopefully without the ‘see you later.’
“That sounds…wonderful. Thank you again, Mr. Lehnsherr. I’m sure you have much to do. And thank you, viewers, for joining us tonight. This has been a Daily Planet special.”
The red lights on the camera ticked off one by one, and Kara was out of her seat in an instant, almost suspiciously fast. She gave a polite ‘thank you’ and a smile, and offered her hand to shake because that’s what good reporters did. That’s what the camera crew expected of her. She made it out of the room, down the stairs, into the alley before the rolling in her stomach caught up with her and she bent over the studio dumpster.