(she sounds slightly distracted when she answers. her book is getting so good peter, she's still got her eyes on the last bit of her paragraph...) Hmm?
(a pause, before she registers that he's asking her something,) Oh– yeah. I'm down.
Yeah, just enjoying the one good afternoon out of the month while I can. You know how this place works; one second you're appreciating nature, the next you're being overrun with creepy crawlies.
Thought I'd walk over, meet you halfway?
[He hesitates, which is — unusual.]
A little company to distract me right now'd be nice.
(yeah, now that she's paying proper attention she can tell something's off, but he's meeting her in person to talk she won't ask, will save it for then; dog-earring her book, she shuts it and slips off her bed, dragging her boots out from underneath of it.)
(- and, before she clicks off the omni,) Take your mask. It filters, right, there's some– weird mushroom shit happening. (she's lacing her boots. her voice drops to a pissed-off sorta mutter,) I don't like it.
Right, yeah. Weird mushroom illnesses, your favorite kind of thing to deal with.
I've got it on me, just in case.
[The mask, that is. The dorky hero-type in him almost offers to build her a mask that will properly filter things... but, uh. He realizes maybe it's a little too late for that. He's pretty sure his time's about up. Pretty close to it, anyway, if the strange discoloration on his torso and urge to dunk his whole body in water is anything to go by.
Cool. Great.
He focuses harder on getting to Abby than those annoying thoughts, and can be seen in the distance as a swinging dot on the horizon — he's not, strangely enough, in his Spider-Man uniform. In fact, he hasn't been in it in a few days now.]
(it's kinda funny to see the little moving dot in the distance and gather that it's him. in fact, once abby realises what she's looking at, she speeds up her walk. what? she's competitive. she wants to beat him to the halfway point even though there's no hope of her pace outstripping his.
he does win her out, they're much closer to her place than his. it doesn't actually matter, it's just good to see that he finally got his web slinging under control, and abby is not remembering the time he didn't, okay. she isn't, she doesn't think about that at all.)
Bite me, (she calls back, and takes a big step out of the way to give him room to do his cool superhero landing. she's considerate like that, and pleased to see him, grinning as he straightens up.)
[He looks healthy, he looks okay — it's something of a paradox, honestly, because usually bad news means someone's unwell in some way, right? Or at least, that's the status quo here. Landing in one of those silly superhero poses, he looks up with raised eyebrows and a fond smile.]
Careful, I might just bite your ankles with an order like that. [But he elects not to. You're welcome! Instead he stands straight up, smoothing out the wrinkles in the front of his flannel shirt.] I'd say that's a new world record; not that there's a lot out there for swinging on a web from place to place.
(she does a little jump out of the way to discourage him from that, nose scrunched, threatening laughter.)
Yeah. Kinda think you're racing yourself at this point.
(he does look okay. maybe abby was a bit worried when he messaged her out of the blue; but she's happy to have been called on, glad that bad jokes can make him feel a little better. she gives him a nudge in the arm with her elbow, hands stuffed into the pockets of her jacket. bit cold out here, now that the weather's starting to turn.) We going anywhere in particular?
Hey, I don't mind having myself as a rival. Sounds fun!
[He talks to himself plenty when he's in the suit, anyway. Kind of a... way to keep himself entertained? A way to feel like he has company on those longer nights? He's big dumb grin shrinks, and he looks a bit more solemn out of his eyes.]
... Honestly, I wasn't really thinking about a destination.
but she's hardly one to criticise anybody for not wanting to talk about it. probably, like, the last person who should be making snarky comments. so instead she shrugs, and gives his shoulder a companionable bump with her own as she falls into step beside him.)
... Guess you can, just this once.
(a beat, before she continues:) Sounds like you're angling to hear about what I'm reading at the moment.
... Eventually. With a lot of hyping himself up. And internally screaming.
But this? Having something so simple to focus on? It sounds pleasant, a distraction he's relieved to have. When she bumps his shoulder, he can only grin with affection.]
I would honestly love to hear all about your reading choices.
(if he's serious–) It's called Scaramouche, it's about a lawyer in the French Revolution whose best friend is killed by some shit aristocrat. So he swears revenge, right, but he has to work out how to topple the French government and he goes on all these adventures.
(she's gesturing while she talks,) It's so good. He's a really fucked up character, but his motives make sense. (and can she relate to that........ maybe....) Like, you hate him, but you're on his side. You know?
[He grins at his own nostalgia, fully aware Abby may not have a clue about what he's talking about. Which would be a crime if that's the case, because that's a great song with only the best lyrics to sing along to. Especially when you're swinging at top speeds around New York!]
So he's one of those chaotic, charming types?
Or is he more, like... 'I am the shadow in the night'.
[That was his best Batman, but it's a universal sound of 'tortured, dark guy'.]
... No, like from the 1921 novel Scaramouche. (clarisse made the exact same reference when she caught sight of abby reading in the living room. do people from the old world only have one joke.
she hums, before she answers.) Chaotic and charming, for sure. (and because she doesn't think peter would mind any spoilers, she adds:) He joins an acting troupe at one point and marries the daughter of a guy who really hates him.
Well I mean, (she reasons, her voice dipping low and mock-sultry for a moment,) she doesn't hate him, so he doesn't have to be that charming to her. Y'know?
(get it, climene.)
It doesn't really matter anyway. She finds out he isn't a noble eventually, and then she dumps him.
Oof. Being dumped for status. [Clutching a hand over his heart, he dramatically wheezes out:] My financially unstable heart is broken for him; these are sympathy pains.
Are all noblemen and women that shallow?
Wait, don't answer that obvious question.
So what does he do after she dumps him? Sits in a bar and drinks?
(she's really enjoying that he's getting into the story with her,) He actually doesn't care that much. She's convinced he tricked her or something but he points out he never lied to her, he just... (vague gesture,) omitted the truth? He's a dick about it, but he's not wrong.
And then he keeps going on with his play. That's why it's called Scaramouche, it's the name of the character he performs as.
- Climene gets asked out by a Marquis later, so don't worry about her.
Huh. Good for her, I guess. Still getting her dating life in order.
[That's kind of how this walk goes, huh? Just talking at length about fencing academy aliases and revolutions and reconciliation with godfathers and all the fun stuff Scaramouche has to offer. It's honestly one of the more pleasant talks he's had in a while — which maybe isn't that shocking, considering some of the unfortunate events that seem to always happen around here.
... Right. Around here.
Once their conversation has lulled, he turns his attention to her more fully.]
Hey, uh. Abby? The truth is, there's something I've been needing to tell you. It's not... exactly the best news, but it's kind of occurring to me that it has to be said, so...
(she's grinning, but it drops off the moment he opens his mouth again to speak. she doesn't meant to make a face like she just dropped an ice cream cone, but she can't help it. abby has a bad feeling, and peter's sudden change in tone makes her stomach do a big, squirmy twist. she slides her hands into the pocket of her jacket, runs her tongue over her teeth and makes herself ask.)
So... what?
(he's been in a funny mood this whole time. because of this? whatever he's about to say next? how couldn't she be nervous about that.)
Well, except that seeing her look at him like that doesn't help. He's always been so bad at keeping his resolve when a pretty face looks at him like that; MJ used to pull it all the time, and he was always weak to it. Always.]
Well... You know, uh. Before Trench, when people vanished — they tended to just... y'know.
Poof.
One moment they're there, the next they'd just... be gone.
I remember. (fuck, he hasn't found something terrible out about the way people leave here, has he? for a moment, she internally lists all the people that they have in common, wondering if somebody has left, and he saw, and he's here to give her bad news.
whatever it is, he knows something she doesn't and is taking his sweet time to get there.)
What about it, (she prompts, and stops walking, reaching out to take his elbow.) Can you just tell me? (a little, nervous laugh leaks out of her mouth,) You're freaking me out.
look at me playercesting to give you the 1, 2, K.O.
Sorry, it's... [Her hand on his elbow reorients his thoughts, makes it easier to look at her and just get it over with.] In Trench, I think people who return — they return to the ocean, instead of just vanishing.
They're pulled to it, like some compulsion. Some kind that gets stronger and stronger. It's like all rational thought leaves you, and you start getting weaker and weaker to it, until you're — gone.
[He glances toward the direction of the ocean. Even now... he still feels like he needs to go. Even as much as he struggles to refocus on staying, on getting the hell away from that shoreline, he... just can't.]
It happened to Diarmuid already. The ocean called him back, too.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
voice
(a pause, before she registers that he's asking her something,) Oh– yeah. I'm down.
You already out?
voice
Thought I'd walk over, meet you halfway?
[He hesitates, which is — unusual.]
A little company to distract me right now'd be nice.
voice, 1/2
'Kay. I can do that. (any time, for him.)
See you soon.
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(feels bad, man.)
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Right, yeah. Weird mushroom illnesses, your favorite kind of thing to deal with.
I've got it on me, just in case.
[The mask, that is. The dorky hero-type in him almost offers to build her a mask that will properly filter things... but, uh. He realizes maybe it's a little too late for that. He's pretty sure his time's about up. Pretty close to it, anyway, if the strange discoloration on his torso and urge to dunk his whole body in water is anything to go by.
Cool. Great.
He focuses harder on getting to Abby than those annoying thoughts, and can be seen in the distance as a swinging dot on the horizon — he's not, strangely enough, in his Spider-Man uniform. In fact, he hasn't been in it in a few days now.]
Look out below!
[Don't worry, he won't land on you.
But it's fun to call anyway!]
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he does win her out, they're much closer to her place than his. it doesn't actually matter, it's just good to see that he finally got his web slinging under control, and abby is not remembering the time he didn't, okay. she isn't, she doesn't think about that at all.)
Bite me, (she calls back, and takes a big step out of the way to give him room to do his cool superhero landing. she's considerate like that, and pleased to see him, grinning as he straightens up.)
Hey. That was fast, how long did that take you?
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Careful, I might just bite your ankles with an order like that. [But he elects not to. You're welcome! Instead he stands straight up, smoothing out the wrinkles in the front of his flannel shirt.] I'd say that's a new world record; not that there's a lot out there for swinging on a web from place to place.
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Yeah. Kinda think you're racing yourself at this point.
(he does look okay. maybe abby was a bit worried when he messaged her out of the blue; but she's happy to have been called on, glad that bad jokes can make him feel a little better. she gives him a nudge in the arm with her elbow, hands stuffed into the pockets of her jacket. bit cold out here, now that the weather's starting to turn.) We going anywhere in particular?
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[He talks to himself plenty when he's in the suit, anyway. Kind of a... way to keep himself entertained? A way to feel like he has company on those longer nights? He's big dumb grin shrinks, and he looks a bit more solemn out of his eyes.]
... Honestly, I wasn't really thinking about a destination.
You up for pointless wandering while we talk?
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(ah, but she caught that little mood change there...)
What's up? (he said he wanted a distraction, but that doesn't stop her from being curious. better fess up, pete.)
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The smile he gives is half-hearted, like he knows she knows he's full of it.]
What, can't I have a nice walk with a friend? Talking about everything and nothing?
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but she's hardly one to criticise anybody for not wanting to talk about it. probably, like, the last person who should be making snarky comments. so instead she shrugs, and gives his shoulder a companionable bump with her own as she falls into step beside him.)
... Guess you can, just this once.
(a beat, before she continues:) Sounds like you're angling to hear about what I'm reading at the moment.
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... Eventually. With a lot of hyping himself up. And internally screaming.
But this? Having something so simple to focus on? It sounds pleasant, a distraction he's relieved to have. When she bumps his shoulder, he can only grin with affection.]
I would honestly love to hear all about your reading choices.
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(if he's serious–) It's called Scaramouche, it's about a lawyer in the French Revolution whose best friend is killed by some shit aristocrat. So he swears revenge, right, but he has to work out how to topple the French government and he goes on all these adventures.
(she's gesturing while she talks,) It's so good. He's a really fucked up character, but his motives make sense. (and can she relate to that........ maybe....) Like, you hate him, but you're on his side. You know?
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[He grins at his own nostalgia, fully aware Abby may not have a clue about what he's talking about. Which would be a crime if that's the case, because that's a great song with only the best lyrics to sing along to. Especially when you're swinging at top speeds around New York!]
So he's one of those chaotic, charming types?
Or is he more, like... 'I am the shadow in the night'.
[That was his best Batman, but it's a universal sound of 'tortured, dark guy'.]
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she hums, before she answers.) Chaotic and charming, for sure. (and because she doesn't think peter would mind any spoilers, she adds:) He joins an acting troupe at one point and marries the daughter of a guy who really hates him.
Kinda scandalous, right. (wiggly eyebrows)
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... But still kind of cool, judging by the quiet interest he gives as she tells him more.]
Wow, so he's that charming. I've got to admit, he's winning me over.
... Not sure I'm willing to marry someone with a dad who hates my guts, though.
Imagine the family dinners you'd have to attend.
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(get it, climene.)
It doesn't really matter anyway. She finds out he isn't a noble eventually, and then she dumps him.
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Are all noblemen and women that shallow?
Wait, don't answer that obvious question.
So what does he do after she dumps him? Sits in a bar and drinks?
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(she's really enjoying that he's getting into the story with her,) He actually doesn't care that much. She's convinced he tricked her or something but he points out he never lied to her, he just... (vague gesture,) omitted the truth? He's a dick about it, but he's not wrong.
And then he keeps going on with his play. That's why it's called Scaramouche, it's the name of the character he performs as.
- Climene gets asked out by a Marquis later, so don't worry about her.
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[That's kind of how this walk goes, huh? Just talking at length about fencing academy aliases and revolutions and reconciliation with godfathers and all the fun stuff Scaramouche has to offer. It's honestly one of the more pleasant talks he's had in a while — which maybe isn't that shocking, considering some of the unfortunate events that seem to always happen around here.
... Right. Around here.
Once their conversation has lulled, he turns his attention to her more fully.]
Hey, uh. Abby? The truth is, there's something I've been needing to tell you. It's not... exactly the best news, but it's kind of occurring to me that it has to be said, so...
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(she's grinning, but it drops off the moment he opens his mouth again to speak. she doesn't meant to make a face like she just dropped an ice cream cone, but she can't help it. abby has a bad feeling, and peter's sudden change in tone makes her stomach do a big, squirmy twist. she slides her hands into the pocket of her jacket, runs her tongue over her teeth and makes herself ask.)
So... what?
(he's been in a funny mood this whole time. because of this? whatever he's about to say next? how couldn't she be nervous about that.)
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Well, except that seeing her look at him like that doesn't help. He's always been so bad at keeping his resolve when a pretty face looks at him like that; MJ used to pull it all the time, and he was always weak to it. Always.]
Well... You know, uh. Before Trench, when people vanished — they tended to just... y'know.
Poof.
One moment they're there, the next they'd just... be gone.
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whatever it is, he knows something she doesn't and is taking his sweet time to get there.)
What about it, (she prompts, and stops walking, reaching out to take his elbow.) Can you just tell me? (a little, nervous laugh leaks out of her mouth,) You're freaking me out.
look at me playercesting to give you the 1, 2, K.O.
Sorry, it's... [Her hand on his elbow reorients his thoughts, makes it easier to look at her and just get it over with.] In Trench, I think people who return — they return to the ocean, instead of just vanishing.
They're pulled to it, like some compulsion. Some kind that gets stronger and stronger. It's like all rational thought leaves you, and you start getting weaker and weaker to it, until you're — gone.
[He glances toward the direction of the ocean. Even now... he still feels like he needs to go. Even as much as he struggles to refocus on staying, on getting the hell away from that shoreline, he... just can't.]
It happened to Diarmuid already. The ocean called him back, too.
And I think I'm next.
mods arrest this player IMMEDIATELY
3:^)
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