ᴘᴇᴛᴇʀ ɢʀᴀʜᴀᴍ 👑 ᴋɪɴɢ ᴘᴀɪᴍᴏɴ (
possessum) wrote in
deercountry2022-03-06 12:44 am
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we coughed up honey into the air
Who: Peter Graham
possessum + open! Anyone welcomed!
What: March catch-all ft. a bunch of Jumanji event prompts and some general ones.
When: The month of March.
Where: The jungle, and around Trench.
Content Warnings: This character comes with demonic possession by default ; Corruption / demonic attributes ; Jumanji Jungle Level warnings ; a lot of Panicked Cursing ; others to be noted in threads
EVENT — JUNGLE LEVEL
GENERAL — THE MONTH OF MARCH CW: PHYSICAL DEMONIC ATTRIBUTES, RECREATIONAL DRUG MENTION
NOTE — As a Darkblood, this month Peter has the ability to see energy / auras / life force around living things, so feel free to include what colour your character would emit!
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What: March catch-all ft. a bunch of Jumanji event prompts and some general ones.
When: The month of March.
Where: The jungle, and around Trench.
Content Warnings: This character comes with demonic possession by default ; Corruption / demonic attributes ; Jumanji Jungle Level warnings ; a lot of Panicked Cursing ; others to be noted in threads
EVENT — JUNGLE LEVEL
➤ ENTER THE JUNGLE
What the fuck, man? Oh what the fuuuuck?
( —Whimpers the tall and thin young man beside you, voice rising in pitch as he tries to huddle in on himself, wide-eyed and terrified. Maybe you know Peter already, or maybe you're strangers to each other, but either way it's clear that your new Jungle Adventure Partner is less than enthusiastic about this.
It's also clear that he's going to be absolutely no use. For as your journey continues, Peter not only emits a variety pack of distressed noises on the regular (shouts, yelps, moans, groans, frenzied whispers, and teary mumbling)... he also gets into a lot of trouble because it appears to be that a) he has absolutely no survival skills at all, and b) he is constantly on the edge of a nervous breakdown. Really, it seems inevitable he's just going to die at any given moment. There are general things like Peter getting hopelessly tangled up in vines, tripping and falling over large roots, and zoning out and wandering off out of sight only to start crying out for you in a panic, and once or twice he just straight-up crouches down on the ground with his arms wrapped around his head, as though he can't take anymore, but then there are also the challenges— )
➤ QUICKSAND
( It happens before he can even process it. The game spits its weird riddle, and then the ground itself seems to be folding, melting, inwards. Peter screams (take a shot every time) as he feels himself start to sink. His fingers are clawing desperate at the softened ground around him, and he suddenly understands what's going on. )
It's fucking quicksand! It's fucking!! Quicksand! It's fucking quicksaaaaand! ( He's repeating this over and over and over, panicked, aware that the game has toppled over and is starting to sink too, but Peter's not at all concerned about it, doesn't even try to grab it. Maybe you can — maybe you're not sinking, evaded it by an inch or two, or weren't with him when it started happening, and just ran up now. Or maybe you're in as much trouble as he is..... or maybe not quite as much, given Peter's flailing around has caused him to personally sink even faster, and he's now covered all the way up to his waist. It's only getting worse. )
➤ RUSHING RIVERS
( Peter, who is possessed by an ancient demon king with a lot of equally ancient abilities, can actually breathe underwater now. Peter does not currently know this.
Which is to say, when the waters come, he thinks he's going to die. He's screaming like he's going to die, from where he's clinging onto a huge, tilted tree trunk for dear life. He'd managed to scramble his way up onto it as soon as the flood broke, but now he's trapped out in the middle of the water, screaming.
Maybe you hear him and scream back, or try to make your way closer. Maybe you're caught in the merciless flow of the flood, in danger of being slammed into any number of solid objects; maybe he can actually help get you onto his tree, or maybe you manage to make your way to it yourself. Hopefully it doesn't snap. )
➤ GIANT FROGS (NOTE: ONE ATTEMPTED EATING OPTION & ONE SUCCESSFUL EATING....)
( By the time the frogs appear, Peter's very tired. He's been made to walk for longer than he's ever walked in his entire life, he's sweating through his shirt, his hair is a wreck of curls entangled with little pieces of vines and dirt and probably a spider or two... Every once in awhile he smacks at his head, like he feels something crawling on it.
He's trailing behind whomever he's with, feet practically dragging the ground, when there's abruptly a yelp and if you turn, you'll see him staring in terror and pointing at something off to the side. Two huge black eyes peek out of the brush, where something wet and swollen and big crouches.
Peter's starting to breathe funny, like his lungs are too small: sharp attempts at air intake. He sounds like he's close to hyperventilating.
That's when a thick, ropey tongue suddenly lashes out of the creature's mouth and wraps right around his middle, as firm as a python. Peter...... screams, trying to flail around, slapping at the wormlike thing that's ensnared him, but it's not letting go. Maybe you can help get him out of this before he ends up lunch.
Or maybe, he's in the middle of a rant, because he's had it. )
I've had it! ( he declares suddenly, long arms lifting into the air with exasperation. ) This is stupid. It's so fucking stupid. Why're we even doing this— this little dumb game? This sick shit?! I'm tired, and I'm hot, and we've been walking for hours. I want to go ho—
( It's at that moment that a tongue lashes out, grabs Peter, and pulls him into a nearby frog's mouth before he or anyone can say another word. All six feet of him and his spider-filled hair completely vanishes. He has been swallowed whole.
There's probably a shocked silence for a long moment or two before panicked, muffled screaming can be heard coming from the frog's swollen body, within which Peter Graham is all crammed up. Whether you were with him this whole time or happened to be close by and witness this just now, maybe you can help Peter not get digested. Please help Peter not get digested. )
➤ TROPHY HUNTER
( By the time this challenge takes place, Peter's gotten separated from whomever he's been with this whole time. In fact, this challenge isn't even one he helped to summon; he'd long ago given up on the game and has just been wandering aimlessly, trying to find his people, when he'd encountered the hunter who was summoned from someone else's game.
And now here he is, running up to you, some wild-eyed, dirty young man with hair all over the place who appears from the brush. He seems unhinged. )
He's crazy! He's fucking crazy!
( You might be thinking yes, you are fucking crazy, when there's the loud crack of a gun from the depths of the jungle, and Peter flinches violently, ducking downwards and grabbing for your arm, voice a hushed, strained whisper. )
We have to run! He'll kill us, don't you get it?! He wants to kill us!!
( Maybe you're already well-aware of the trophy hunter and the fact he wants to kill you; maybe you were trying to hide, already. Or maybe this is brand new information to you. Either way, you're going to have to work with Peter to survive this.
.....You might die. )
GENERAL — THE MONTH OF MARCH CW: PHYSICAL DEMONIC ATTRIBUTES, RECREATIONAL DRUG MENTION
NOTE — As a Darkblood, this month Peter has the ability to see energy / auras / life force around living things, so feel free to include what colour your character would emit!
( March is a blossom of strange things growing all over, and new worries bumping up against all the old ones. Peter largely remains a recluse, staying safely tucked away in the townhouse he shares with Luna Lovegood. There are things he has to protect: her, and a fresh new bond, and a young boy named Falco Grice who shows up trembling against the flickering ghosts at the corner of his vision. The boy stays with them for awhile as Corruption grows, spreads. Peter's kept busy in the early days of March, and will rarely be seen. But those who visit the townhouse will be invited in or met out in front of the house.
It's towards the middle of March that his own budding Corruption makes its appearance known again. This time, it's not so much a mental change as a physical one... Peter doesn't become some snarling thing the way he was back in December. He maintains his lucidity, his identity, everything that makes him Peter.
It's just that now he has a pair of large black horns sprouting from his head, as well as a long, thin, scaly black tail.
....It's alarming, to be sure, but at this point, Peter's... tired. Sure, this happened. Why the fuck wouldn't it?
And so, the boy who doesn't act like a demon this time but looks like one just kind of... continues on with his life. He's still mainly to be found at the townhouse, for any visitors, but on occasion he might be spotted around the city. He goes shopping for clothes, perusing various shops: a tall, gloomy-eyed young man with sharp horns and a tail curled shyly against his leg. He's... looking for shirts that button up instead of have to be pulled over the head.... He doesn't know how long he's going to be looking like some sort of Teenage Hellspawn, but until this goes away, he needs some more clothes that he won't destroy.
Or maybe you spot him crouching down near cobblestoned streets, looking about as depressed as anyone can, gazing listlessly across the street, one elbow folded over a knee. He's holding a joint to his mouth but not actually smoking it yet; however, when he notices you nearby, he tilts his head up at you (with some difficulty; the horns are... heavy), and gives a slight nod. )
Want one? Got extra. ( —Then, he'll be fishing through his hoodie pocket, drawing out a little bag of sour gummy candies (drug-free). Where'd he even get those... He has his ways. And apparently, he's willing to share. ) Got these, too.
( Or he can sometimes be found sitting outside under the shade of a tree, long legs curled into a crossed position, a number of books spread around him. It seems like some sort of study session, and closer inspection will show that they probably came from the Arcane Archives: ancient-looking texts bound in thick leather. Peter's thumbing through them, a pair of reading glasses pressed to his face. If you're willing to approach the person with the demon horns and tail, it's actually a pretty serene display. Flowers have popped up from the ground and a few haphazard other things can be found in little patches nearby: apples and bananas and.... a cabbage? Is that a coconut, too?? It's weird. This place is weird.
But maybe not as weird as the sight of Peter Graham actually willingly reading a book.
Or the sight of him... being so seemingly at ease about his demonic parts. He's even using his tail to his advantage, the scaly black thing poking through a book or two, slithering snake-like through the grass to find the pencil he dropped and returning it to his hand as he jots down some notes.
But he often does look up, people-watching, and if you're passing by, his eyes might drift to you — or maybe it's more at you. He sees something; there's some curious attentiveness, and he hesitates only a moment before asking, a little shy— )
Hey, uh, this might sound weird, but do I have like... a colour around me?
( If you're a fellow Darkblood, his own energy is a very dark, smooth green — something of phthalo and hunter and forest — rich and somber and quiet, and maybe a little uncomfortable, like the dark part of the woods. Anything could be looking out.
A second pulse is there up under the first: a second colour, or a cacophony of them. Flashes of gold amongst iridescent shine, alien colours that are difficult to truly pinpoint, flickering from those dark woods. If you look too long, too close, it hurts.
But maybe you can't see it. Peter wonders why he welcomed anyone to in the first place. )
WILDCARD / ETC
ooc ➤ plurk (skeletals) / discord (large bat#2354) / pm / Peter's plot post
As a note, I'm definitely open to the mosquito challenge or the perking up one despite not having prompts for them up. If you'd like to toss one of those at me, feel free!
Also, respond in prose if that's your preference, and I'll gladly follow suit.
General Visit! [Icon is her noticing her "visions"]
She was also very, VERY aware that being a Paleblood meant she was seeing a LOT of strange stuff now, so she knew she was going to have to make sure to verify what she was seeing was actually real and not a hallucination.
So when she stopped by the townhouse with a basket and noticed the dancing mushrooms, she sighed, shaking her head. She'd have to reconcile that later.
"Hello? Anyone home?"
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There's also Falco in the house for awhile, the young boy going through something that's in some ways very different to and some ways so horrifically similar to Peter's own experience. Instead of crumbling the way Peter usually might, he's been trying to keep it together for them — for Luna and Falco. More often than not he's a bundle of anxiety and shot nerves, but he's still trying.
When there's a knock at the door, it takes a fair bit for someone to answer. Finally the distinctive pale blue door opens juuuust a tad as Peter so carefully peeks through, looking nervous until he sees who it is. Then he's visibly relaxing, opening the door all the way to reveal the young man standing there in a wrinkled t-shirt and pyjama pants, hair an absolute mess of unbrushed curls. His socks are two different colours. He's fine. This is fine.
"Luz— hey." Peter takes her in, and the purple light glowing from around her. "Is everything okay? You in trouble?"
...Of course Peter's initial reaction to a random visit is Worry.
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cw: brief mention of insect body horror / emeto
Re: cw: brief mention of insect body horror / emeto
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Frogs!!!!
He turns to watch Peter shouting and ranting as...okay yeah that's definitely a giant frog and it's definitely eating him. ]
Peter! UM! Okay, hang on I'll...I'll get you out!!!
[He rummages desperately in his backpack, pulling out a Flynnolium bomb, just as Peter vanishes inside the frog's gullet. He looks at the bomb, then at the frog and mentally does the math on Peter's survival chances. He realises it's higher than if he did nothing (zero) so he's just gonna...huck his bomb at the frog. Shouting, helpfully, before he does so.]
FIRE IN THE HOLE!
[You know. So Peter can brace himself. Inside the frog. Before it explodes. With him in it. ]
cw: animal death, explosion
As it is, he's just screaming his head off in the pitch darkness, hands shooting out only to make contact with a horrible hot, wet sensation. Like fleshy walls all around him. And he can't breathe, it's hard to breathe — yes, Peter's seconds away from a complete meltdown.
That's when he hears Varian shout something. Peter's not quite able to form rational thought to the words that should tell him exactly what's coming. His mind's blank; he can't comprehend anything.
And then he blows up.
Or, well— the thing he's trapped inside of does. Fortunately, its guts keep him safe from being blown to pieces himself, but it bursts so violently that Peter's still caught in the crossfires. It's like an explosion of fireworks too close, and he's sent flying out of it, flung across the ground. He lies there in a mess of steaming.... parts, covered in slime and pieces of stomach and blood.
...And he doesn't move at all. Is he dead? He might be dead. He feels dead. (He's not dead.) )
cw: animal death, explosion
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Giant Frogs - attempted swallowing
[A beam of light slices the tongue in half, blood and mucus flying every which way as the tongue wriggles a little bit before falling limp from Peter's body. Sailor Moon is quick to come over to Peter, keeping an eye on the frog as it made a noise in pain and despair at its tongue being cut OFF.]
Here, come on, let's get out of here before we find out there's more of them!
[She held her gloved hand out to Peter.]
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He gasps in surprise and horror as he watches it fall to the ground, wriggling like that, the frog giving that pained noise. It— its tongue just... just got fucking cut off.
There's barely time to register this before the young woman is reaching out to him, and Peter grabs her hand, eyes wide and round. For a moment he's not even sure what he's looking at; she's just this bright light, so intense that it hurts. But he's still holding onto that gloved hand.
Especially because he can hear the croak of more frogs in the distance, maybe alerted to them by the commotion, or maybe they were lurking and waiting already. Regardless, Peter's not letting go, even as her aura shines so painfully bright beside him. Even as he's trembling uncontrollably. )
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enter the jungle
After all.. Ange kind of gets it. Despite the fact that Peter has a literal demon inside of him
and despite the fact he was clearly openly socially torturing her back during the double date in January, he is just a regular guy. Of course all of this is going to be overwhelming for him, especially since Ange assumes he probably can't access Paimon's powers while he's just being himself.It's why she doesn't complain when she hears the sound of something falling behind her as they're walking, only to realise that it's Peter tripping over what is likely the third root so far. Instead she just turns around, already reaching out her hand to the guy to help him back up. ]
You might want to be a little bit more careful with your steps.
[ .. okay, maybe she'll still say that.
But at least it's definitely said more gently than Ange would have said that to a total stranger. She likes Peter, after all. And she's determined to get him through this, one way or another. ]
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Well, whether he's able to come out or not, at least there's someone else there to help keep Peter from dying. And it's someone Peter does have a particular sense of trust in, not only as a friend but as someone who's capable, being a witch. Peter feels safe with Ange, at least as safe as he can possibly feel in a situation like this. He's still acting like he's about to be murdered every ten seconds, but if he has to be stuck out in the horror that is the jungle, he's glad it's with her.
That doesn't stop him from whining, moaning, groaning, and whimpering, of course. And screaming. The boy yelps loudly as he falls (yet again), making contact with the ground hard and fast. )
I swear that thing grabbed me...! ( The root didn't grab you, Peter. You're just.... clumsy and unobservant. He reaches a shaky hand up to Ange's, slowly managing to get back to his feet with her help, but he stays kind of bent over, panting for breath like he's about to keel over any second, twigs and leaves sticking all out of his hair. This might be the end for Peter Graham. )
Ange.... I don't think I can go on any more.....
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omg this is so long....... gomen.....
ssh i LOVE all of your peter tags
THANK u and thank u for putting up with my slow...... but this could be a good wrap point ♥
Froggy! (Pre-gulp)
...
well, as balefully as it could. It was a frog after all, one smacking its lips in pain while she clenched her fist. what was odd? There wasn't any blood. there should have been blood right?]
Oh, damnit, that's right. My blood's healing people this cycle! I think it's confusing it, though.
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Cue one six-foot-tall teenager cowering behind the woman as best he can, watching the display and trying not to freak out about the fact there's a wet band of slimy residue around him from where the tongue was latched on. He's very familiar with how dangerous Vileblood can be, and this month he's finding himself glad to be on the side of someone who has it. Or rather... hiding behind someone who has it.
Only.... oh shit, her blood's healing people? )
Wait, does that mean your blood can't kill it? Oh shit, what do we do? It's gonna eat us! We're gonna die!!
( Peter... is, clearly, not good in a crisis. )
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General: under the shade of a tree
[ It isn't the question, but Peter's appearance (and to some extent, definitely the fact he's willingly reading?) that has K quietly taken aback, not sure what exactly he's seeing here. Paimon's growing influence, maybe? It seems the most logical conclusion... It's rather concerning, whatever the cause, and makes for an interesting reunion. He is very glad to see Peter again, regardless of how demonic the boy looks. ]
You can see the colours, too? I can't, but a friend mentioned seeing them. Kyle Broflovski. He might know more.
[ The energy radiating from K is a shifting kaleidoscope of every hue — a rainbow, without any particular colour dominating.
While he isn't able to see the auras, he has been experiencing some oddities of his own this month... As he makes his way across the grass, a trail of tiny flowers slowly bloom in his wake, and a few stray flower petals flutter out from his long coat. Don't ask where they came from, because even he doesn't know. But otherwise, he remains completely unchanged in appearance since Deerington, despite having actually spent several years living in Technical Boy's homeworld with him before Trench pulled them in; being an android, he doesn't age. ]
How have you been? May I ask— [ He gestures toward his own head to illustrate what he means: those prominent horns that Peter's sporting. ] —what happened?
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By now, Peter's fairly sure what the colours more or less mean — they have to do with people's... insides, like their spirits, maybe. K's is a surprise, but Peter's not exactly sure why. He supposes... he wouldn't have known what colour to attribute to the android at all — which means that the ever-shifting kaleidoscope is honestly really apt.
It also reminds him of Luna's colours. He's continuing to stare for a moment before he blinks and finds focus again as best he can with the rainbow rippling before him, and the... flowers that seem almost to be blooming from K himself. )
Oh— Kyle? I know him. He's really cool. ( He also knows Kyle is a Fellow Darkblood, but Peter doesn't yet reason together that the connection might be that....
The teen shifts where he's sitting, setting aside the books on his lap and slipping the reading glasses from his face. There's something welcoming to the gesture, like he's making room for K; he's happy to see him. Even if the question isn't one that's easy to answer, and Peter gives a shy little smile that almost looks apologetic. )
I think it has to do with the uh, Corruption stuff. Couple months ago I got it really bad and apparently grew horns then, too. I don't remember much from then.
( This time, he seems to be... a lot better, at least mentally. He's aware this is a shock to come across, though, and reaches a hand up to tentatively touch the base of one of the horns. )
I'm okay, though. I think it's just... something that's going to happen to me here. ( A beat, just a little weighted; it's a bit scary to admit that out loud. ) What about you, you doing okay?
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Let's be real what Peter really needs here is to go shopping with Xerxes Break
Now, Break has reasons not just to exist, but to move forward. There are people here he's already come to love and things he wants to protect in this place, and he's come to understand that this world is going to need more of him than he's been able to give so far if he's going to stand in it properly. To be as reliable as he's accustomed to being.
So. It's time to get up.
The first order of business in this regard has been to start easing out of the near constant black he's been wearing this whole time -- the color of mourning, of course. He has already replaced his thick black winter coat with a long, glorious purple one that swishes just so when he moves, and it's incredible how much more like himself he feels clad in the best color of all once again. But everything underneath is still black, and so, today's quest is to start acquiring the basics in more of a variety than he currently has.
He is holding up a flouncey pirate shirt in white to see if it has enough ruffles to meet his tastes when the horns on the other side of the rack catch his eye. Break does not expect to see Peter underneath them, and so he stares a little longer than is strictly polite.]
...gotten into the weird wall fruit, have we?
[Break had a very bad chocolate experience a week or two ago. He will not be trusting the wall fruit.]
oh my god yes please.... help him, Mr. Fashion...
But he hasn't... done this. Not in years, not even back in Deerington. Apart from a few items given to him here and there, Peter's wardrobe still largely consists of the things that came with him from home. His hoodies, jeans, the same pair of Converse. The shirt he was wearing when he watched his mother die.
Needless to say, he certainly hasn't assimilated to Trench's particular fashion culture at all. And maybe some of that's been a conscious choice, some little dash of rebellion against Changing even more than he already has, but maybe some of it is also that he just doesn't know how. Peter browses the items in this store and feels like an alien on some foreign planet. There's an anxiety pressing at the base of his throat, making him tense. He feels— lost.
When someone addresses him, the teen blinks widely, taking in the sight of the man he recognises holding up the fancy shirt — dressed in equally fancy clothes. Peter openly ogles Break for a moment, before he clears his throat; it takes him a second to understand, but when he does, a sheepish little smile nudges the corners of his mouth. )
Oh— these. ( Yeah, the. The demon shit. )
I uh, think it's actually Corruption, maybe. But I don't think I'm like dangerous or anything. I feel pretty okay like... mentally?
( It's maybe not all Corruption, and that's what's really worrying. Maybe this is how he's supposed to look now. Nervously, Peter's weird creepy scaly tail gives a sudden swish. What the fuck even is his life now? )
...The horns make it a little hard to find clothes, though.
( He can blame it on them, but truthfully he has no idea where to start. There are no black shirts with random band logos on them here. No jeans with the knees intentionally ripped, for Grunge Aesthetic. Things have... vests and buttons and ruffles, like the item Break's holding now. )
Tail needs a bow
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cw: mention of attempted child murder with fire
( general - near the cobblestone streets )
Thank you, Mr. Graham. Are you giving these out to your friends?
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Oh— Ahiru. H-hey.
( There's Peter, a lot more twitchy than he was back at the Snake Den. The Darkblood Charisma effects have long since worn off, and sadly he's back to his usual self. The one who's all depressing and so easily scared, which is maybe a comical image considering he currently has two foreboding horns jutting out of his head.
However, one thing you can count on is that the nervous, gloomy stoner will have candy. )
Oh yeah, anyone who wants some. Do you uh, like sour stuff...?
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General - Under the Tree
She's likely overthinking it all.
While on her stroll, her container cupped protectively in both hands, she sees a familiar figure under a tree. Lucille would usually feel a glimmer of pride (and a shock of surprise) at seeing Peter surrounded by books, but those emotions are dulled by concern. She sees those horns, sees the tail. She's already making her way over -- her feet padding along the grass quickly -- when they make eye contact. Lucille doesn't see the crimson red aura surrounding her, and she sees nothing around Peter either. Her eyes are wide, lips forming a thin line as she looks him over several times, trying to figure out what he's talking about. ]
I see nothing, Peter. Are you all right?
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This is the colour of blood back home. That's the type he's the most familiar with, seen the most of.
He sits up a bit straighter as Lucille approaches, head tilted back to look up at her. There's a slow draw of breath inwards, like he's preparing himself. He realises he doesn't know how to answer that question. )
—I don't know. I'm—
( Changing. Different now. )
I can see things. Uh.. colours, around people. ( The boy pauses, knows he can't just skirt around the demonic elephant in the room, and gestures towards one of his horns with a little wince. )
—I think this is Corruption, but I'm... I'm okay, mentally. I think it's just making me look a little different.
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general - under the tree!!
One thing he's still not entirely used to in this place is people not recognizing him and thus just... talking to him at random. He's far more accustomed to people still treating him like a criminal, and so at first, he thinks maybe Peter is talking to someone else. Except he's definitely looking at him, he thinks, and there aren't enough people around for him to think to look behind him to see if maybe he's mistaken.
A colour? He tilts his head, staring back at him for a moment, before nodding. ]
Green. [ A pause as he squints a little. ] With gold, I think. It's hard to tell.
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So the answer that comes is a clear surprise. Peter blinks, and slowly moves the books off of his lap onto the grass beside him as he tilts his head up to look at the boy with the strange eyes. )
You can see it, too. The colours. ( Green with that strange gold — affirmed for him, the dual-shades he's no stranger to, not by now. Not after Deerington found ways to remind him of the fact he's no longer just Peter anymore. This place too, now. )
I thought I was the only one. Thought maybe... ( Peter's eyes roll upwards as though in attempt to see one of his horns, and he lifts a hand to point at it for further emphasis. There's a little wince, like he's embarrassed. )
...it was a side effect from this. The uh, Corruption.
( Everyone keeps saying Corruption changes you into something, but maybe what it really does is show what a person should really look like. He feels exposed suddenly, vulnerable. "Peter" is melting away, and what's beneath pokes out, hard and sharp and glittering gold, and this boy can see his colours the way most can't. )
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under a tree
[Michael shrugs casually as he lowers himself to the ground. He hasn't noticed any real difference in his sight this month; for him, that's all pretty standard.
He's definitely noticed the demon features, though. Is that a corruption thing, or a Paimon thing? Is Paimon's presence letting Peter see auras now? He reaches out to pick up the coconut, turning it over idly in his hands as he talks.]
That new for you?
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Because Peter can't help returning to the thought that maybe this isn't so much altering him as it is... revealing what's underneath. Like a second self up under his skin — a self that's maybe more true, now. It's a horrifying thought; he doesn't like it.
But he knows Michael's like that. He'd seen it for himself, back in Deerington, or at least a glimpse of it. The tentacled thing up underneath the human skin. Maybe Peter's like that too now, something that's just imitating a human form. Maybe. )
Yeah, I— I've never been able to do that before. ( He shifts the books from his lap, hands sliding to take their place. )
You've always been able to? It's a uh, demon thing, where you're from?
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cw: drug mention
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Trophy Hunter
He doesn't get too far, though, because his higher brain functions take over. He stops and waits for Peter to catch up, still a little wary in spite of himself.]
What are you--?
[But then there's a bang. Kyle knows it isn't a firework, or a tree falling, or anything like that; he grew up in hunting country and he knows what a gun sounds like. he clings to Peter, the two of them just tall skinny curly haired messes staring into the depths of the jungle.]
Fuck fuck fuck, I hate the jungle, this is worse than Peru... okay, okay, come on.
[He grabs Peter's hand and tugs, ducking low like maybe that will help somehow.]
We gotta find like... a river or rocks or something, this ground is no good, he can follow our footprints.
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Dude— He's—
( That bang sounds and Peter jumps again, scrambling closer to latch onto Kyle, heart practically leaping out of his chest. Something in him remembers what it's like to be hunted. Maybe not exactly like this — by something with a literal gun — but the feeling of it is still... similar, in a way that makes him sick. He's whimpering a little, giving a quick, frantic nod at the older boy's instruction.
Both of his hands cling onto Kyle's as he ducks down, creeping along like that with him. Shit, he hadn't even thought about trying to hide his footprints—! )
Oh my god man, I think he's been following mine this whole time! My fuckin' footprints! He knows my shoe size— Dude, he's gonna find me, he's gonna kill me!!
( Peter's voice suddenly rises in his panic, practically shouts. Someone stuff a leaf in his mouth. )
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cw: bloody ectoplasm, vomit
cw: bloody ectoplasm, vomit
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enter the jungle
Giving in won't free her from whatever this shitty board game; it won't get her back to Rose. In fact, it was more like to accomplish the opposite. So Sharon keeps herself together and she tries to be understanding with Peter. She tries to be positive, even dares encouragement at points, but his ineptitude combined with the general exhaustion of hiking through a dense, hot jungle wears her down. It's only when he gets tangled up in the vines that she finally snaps, overwhelmed. ]
How in the fuck, Peter, have you managed to survive in life as long as you have? [ She yells as she doubles back for him. It's not as if she hasn't stumbled and fallen a few times herself, even needing his help once or twice to get back up, but it's starting to feel like Peter's on the hunt for ways to get himself hurt or killed. She slashes at a few of the vines that have him trapped somewhat recklessly. ] You're going to get us both fucking killed if you don't... [ She cuts through another vine with grunt. It's not the first time she's been glad to have kept a dagger on herself. ] ...pull yourself together.
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He was already starting to shout again with being suddenly ensnared in thick ropey vines, when Sharon's swiping motions with her dagger have him shouting for new reasons, voice rising in pitch. )
Oh my god! No!!! You're gonna kill me!!
( To anyone else out there in the jungle around them, it surely sounds like he's being murdered. To make matters worse, he starts wiggling around as much as he can, which definitely won't help her trying to cut him out. )
Help! Someone help!!
( If he could calm down, he'd be able to see that he'd be fine if he just stayed still and let her do her thing. As it is, Peter's just been perpetually on the verge of a breakdown and it's kind of starting to hit now. )
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cw: panic attack associations
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general
They've tried every variation of his name, including that of his Yuvan, Charles. They've tried every flowering phrasing, every ingratiating invocation, murmured, spoken, called, prayed. Every time, they've been met only with the sound of wind and crashing waves.
Eventually, the Operator is forced to accept that he isn't coming. Multiple possibilities occur to them. One, he is no longer in Trench. Two, he is in Trench but has somehow been prevented from heeding their call. And three—unfortunately the most likely—he simply knows better than to appear. Had he seen through their lies in the Snake's Den? Has he discovered that they are no Orokin at all, much less one of the Seven? Or worse—does he know that they are Tenno? That last possibility unsettles them most of all. In disguise, they could hunt the Orokin in relative safety. But if he knows what they truly are, there is a distinct probability that he may well attempt to hunt them back.
It's for this reason that the Operator remains wary, even after they give up on their attempts at summoning. When they venture out into a crowd, they stay alert, vigilant for any sign of the curly-haired wisp of a boy they'd seen that night in the Snake's Den.
If it turns their stomach that they are hunting a child, it only deepens their hatred for the Orokin lurking within. They will kill him when they find him for what he has done. For making them guilty of such a thing.
But for all the Operator's vigilance, there is still no sign of their prey. Is he hiding? Or is he truly gone, returned from here to the Origin System? The Operator vacillates between these two possibilities for days, doubting themself, until—
They see him. Not Charles nor Paimon, but someone else who seems... similar. The same curls and dark-rimmed eyes, the same olive skin—albeit on an older, taller form. Is he a brother? A cousin? Perhaps it's only a coincidence. Maybe the young man just happens to look like Paimon's Yuvan and there is no deeper connection to discover. But if there is something more than that... He is the only lead they have. They will not allow him to slip away like they had Paimon.
So they follow him home. The Operator may not be at their strongest in this form, but they are at least stealthy. They pursue at a distance, steps soft, ever-ready to vanish into the fold between here and the Void should the stranger turn too quickly. On those occasions, they seem to blink out of existence, there one instant and vanished the next. Even if the stranger gets the sense that he is being watched, there simply isn't anyone there when he turns to check.
The Operator follows in secrecy like this until the stranger reaches what must be his home. They don't recognize it like this, out of the snow and with their own focus so singularly fixed on the young man walking up to the front steps. All they know is that if he disappears into the house, he might very well lock them out—and that this is all the more likely if he does have some relation to Paimon. They won't let that happen.
There is a sound like a rush of wind, unnaturally brief and violent. And then, just as suddenly, there is a voice behind Peter, soft and solemn. ]
Hello. [ They stand only a few feet away—close enough that if he does turn and run for the door, they'll still reach it first. ] I have a few questions for you—if you don't mind.
[ They're not giving him a choice, but an appearance of courtesy is preferable. Only time will tell whether or not it is warranted. ]
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But there's a certain sensitivity to it. To the sensation of eyes watching, something so familiar and yet something that he will always flinch from with nervous aversion. By the time he's on his way home, a bag of food supplies tucked in one arm, Peter does a fair bit of quick, wide-eyed glances over his shoulder. Of course, he's paranoid even on his best days, perpetually acting as though he's being hunted by something — but there's nothing there.
Still, those final steps towards the front door are noticeably quicker, hurried, like the seconds are counting down too fast all of a sudden. There's a soft breath exhaled as his hand reaches for the door, and simultaneously, that odd sweep behind him. Something moves; something's caught him. Maybe he knew this would happen.
'Hello.'
Peter flinches like a little dose of electricity's snaked its way through his body, like it hurts. He's turning with wide eyes and a harsh gasp, startled, to see.... a kid.
A kid standing really close. A kid with golden eyes. By now, Peter's been well exposed to a variety of people with features considered "abnormal" back where he comes from — really, he shouldn't be so frightened by things like that anymore. But he still finds himself nervous by those eyes, forever intimidated when standing in the face of something that feels like Other. Then there's the appearance of the kid, too quick, too alien; where'd they fucking come from? )
Hi. ( The older teen breathes, looking like he'll bolt any moment. One arm's still lifted towards the door, but it slowly lowers as he turns all the way around to face them. )
Um. Sure. ( A beat, weighted and awkward, and Peter's standing there with all the dignity of someone with a gun pressed to their head, being forced to talk. )
What do you want to know?
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cw: mention of mental illness and familial suicide
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Trophy Hunter
He's taking a moment to rest, sitting on a downed log, and wiping some of the sweat off the back of his neck when he hears a loud flailing sound as someone comes crashing through the brush. Maul's immediately back on his feet and he's got his Darksaber already lit, the strange black blade humming when he sees Peter coming through like the hounds of hell are at his heels. It takes but a moment to confirm it is indeed the pothead teenager and not his demonic host at the helm right now. He relaxes just a tiny bit and is indeed thinking Peter is a nut until the boy starts tugging on him and trying to get him to move, babbling on about someone trying to kill them.
He glares at the unwanted contact and pulls his arm away from Peter, giving him a withering stare before he turns back towards the direction where he'd dashed out from. Maul straightens himself up and prepares for battle.]
When will you learn, idiot boy? I'm far more scary than anything you'll ever encounter here in Trench.
[Given how much he resembles Peter's mother at times and Sidious at others, there is indeed a nightmarish quality about Maul that has nothing to do with his demonic looks.]
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There's a yelp and Peter flinches backwards even further, putting a good couple of feet between himself and Maul. Fuck, fuck, fuck, not him— )
Sorry— I'm sorry— ( He stammers, wide-eyed and freshly terrified. Great, he's trapped inbetween Maul and some fucking maniac hunter. Peter's voice lowers to a hissed whisper, heart pounding a mile a minute. )
But there's— some guy with a gun. He's trying to kill me!
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cw: mention of gore, death
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cw: emotional abuse / generational abuse
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cw: suicidal ideation, Depression Things™
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Frog - Post swallow (cw: frog murder, future frog eating)
Well, there was always room in this world for bait, right? The jungle had seemed dangerous enough where yelling was bound to attract attention. It didn't even matter to him that this was a game, and he likely wouldn't even come close to starving while in it. Hunting and eating was enjoyable.
He came upon the frog - his next meal he decided - just as a pair of slim humanoid legs disappeared into the gaping toothless maw. The frog was preoccupied swallowing, so Savage could grip with the Force and rip the giant creature out of its current camouflaged spot into the open with him.
Ah, the bait was even still alive! He could hear the person yelling and that looked like they were sort of thrashing a bit. Maybe he could get a meal and an owed favour out of this!
He slammed the frog over unceremoniously, his saberstaff lit on one end as he severed a limb from the frog. It croaked in protest and tried to get away, but Savage just followed and sheered off other limbs so it couldn't go anywhere. By then, the creature had gone into a state of shock, allowing Savage to stab it through the heart. Success!
He cut his way into the frog to its stomach and tossed the stomach and its contents on the long grass next to the dead frog's carcass. He expected the person in the stomach to have enough room to crawl out on their own since there was now a big hole, and he went leaning in to pull out the rest of the internal organs and toss them aside. He preferred muscle meat to start after all.]
Come, there's plenty to eat.
cw: dead frog, gore
Almost just as quickly as it started, it changes again, and all of a sudden Peter's being jostled violently around, continuing to scream. Long arms are flailing and flailing and suddenly.... they're able to push outwards. Whatever was withholding him has slackened up, and the teen immediately starts scrambling towards freedom, clawing his way out of the hot, wet bag he's still covered in. As soon as he realises he's able to breathe fresh air, he's practically gulping it in with loud gasps. Relieved, eyes wet; he's not dead.
That's when a voice sounds and Peter's head snaps to the side to see who's spoken. Immediately, a fresh fear hits him like a tidal wave, and he gasps in fright, trying to scramble away from the person, but not making much traction due to being covered in slippery stomach juices. Still, his nails shove into the dirt beneath himself, trying as hard as he can to put some distance between them. )
Maul?!
( On some level he does realise that the person before him is a different shade than the Sith Lord Peter knows so very well, but he can't perceive the guy as anyone different. Not immediately, anyway, caught in the throes of panic. Peter's starting to sound dangerously close to hyperventilating; this is all too fucking much. )
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rolling around to my backtags, apologies! No worries if you prefer to let this go!
Quicksand (I'm so sorry)
He steps out to the edge of the quicksand and looks to Peter.]
Seriously, kid. Quit your screaming and I'll get you out of there.
[He's going to throw one of the lassos and manages to get it around Peter.]
But if you're going to keep being a pussy, let me know now and I'll let you go.
pours one out for Peter..........
Though....... the man's threatening to let him go?!
Peter just gapes open-mouthed and stunned for a long moment, his panic momentarily shifting to being completely stunned by what he's hearing. Before he, unfortunately, starts screaming again. Though at least it's not just panicked screaming this time, but an intentional one. )
Dude, can you just get me out?! I'm gonna fucking die!!!
Maybe they can get drinks after?
omg the mental image of Johnny and Peter sitting at the bar drinking together though
Johnny drunk off his ass. Peter still just very afraid.
beautiful...
Majestic
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