— 𝐜 𝐨 𝐧 𝐭 𝐚 𝐜 𝐭

[possessum]

action / text / video / etc.
NOTE: I am forever backtag friendly and absolutely open to doing things from past events that won't really have an effect on things at any given time. For example, if you'd like to do something with Peter aged down or when he was his spider dream guide, etc.

Comments

a gift

[creidim]

In early October, a gift will be left on their doorstep, or in their mailbox. Inside a small box, wrapped in silvery paper, is a Sneakoscope — is a glass spinning top that stands upright when placed on a surface.
It contains a note from Luna which reads the following:

Dear Peter,

This is a Sneakoscope, a magical item from my world. It is known as a 'dark detector' and will light up, whistle and spin when it detects that someone untrustworthy is nearby, or if they're doing something deceptive. I hope you'll find it of use in Deerington.

From Luna.

[possessum]

[ Thankfully, Peter read the note before he unwrapped it — because he'd probably have gotten spooked by the thing if not — but after reading about what it is (and who it's from), he's considerably more relaxed. Even excited....!

There's a part of him that expects it to go off right away, given Paimon, but it... doesn't. Maybe it can't detect things like that inside of a person, or maybe.... the demon isn't.... untrustworthy. (Gasp).

Regardless of that, he greatly appreciates the gift, and will be sending Luna a photo of it set out on his bedstand. ........Yes, he's going to sleep with it beside him. For protection..... Someone might break into the house and try to kill him and/or do ritualistic things to him, okay. He has Naked Cultist PTSD. ]

backdated to Oct 1 for early spoops 🎃

[nakedsingularity]

[The clock on the wall reads 11:30PM. Although the TV is on at a low, soothing burble, she imagines she can hear every single tick of the hands counting down the last night of September and into the first of October.

The late night TV is in itself a pretense. She sits watching it, toying with a metal chain between her fingers, but she's fully dressed right down to a jacket and a pair of comfortable waterproof boots. She's waiting. They both are.

It always comes down to this at the end and middle points of months--but this is the worst one. She looks over at Peter.]

You're not freaking out, are you?

[possessum]

[ Considering where he was last October — barely constituting as a functioning human being, still prone to literally forgetting that he lived in this house (or that she lived in this house)..... losing his mind at the slightest sound, and generally so out of it that he honestly barely remembers last October at all, Peter's doing pretty well.

....Of course, that might change, depending on what this particular October has in store for them. The only constant is, apparently, that it'll be bad — but if there's anyone he should face the countdown with, it's Henry. Housemate status aside, she's something of a veteran when it comes to October kicking in.

He sits on the opposite end of the sofa, dressed for battle in a comfortable nylon jacket (water resistant, not waterproof, but.... it should still help against potential... waves of blood) and jeans with the knees ripped out of them. He figures if there's a possibility his clothes might get ruined with whatever the fuck's going to happen tonight, might as well have some jeans that are already torn on. It seemed like a smart idea, okay...... He's.... trying. ]

Noooot yet. [ He glances up from where he'd been mindlessly watching whatever's on the television without really seeing it. His nerves are definitely present, but he's.... not freaking out. (Noooot yet.) The household has expanded a bit since last year, too — Rex is in one of the bathrooms, securely holed up where hopefully it's safe. And they both know who Paimon is now, making him something of an official housemate, albeit a creepy demonic one. ]

How you holding up? [ His eyes catch the movement of her necklace-fiddling, watching the item in silence. It's weird-looking, kind of creepy, but if Henry trusts it, so does he. That's the way it goes now. ]

a delivery

[boyobscured]

[ On 1 Nov, Peter gets a package. There's a note that reads: ]

Peter. I want you to have these. I think they could help you and Paimon with emotion things. Maybe help him with anger. Thank you for being my friend.
-Credence

[ In the package is the following: ]

This strange artifact gives off a hollow ringing sound, as if being blown by a gentle breeze, once it is hung up in a space, regardless of whether any wind ever blows over it. The sound is incredibly soothing, ridding any who are in the room to have their negative emotions (anger, fear, depression, etc) to slowly disappear. However while it is seemingly beneficial at first, if the chimes play around a person for more than an hour, they may find it increasingly difficult to have any emotions at all, as if the chimes were sapping them of their feelings completely. Once they leave the room, this feeling will persist for up to one day.

These chimes can not be broken, but should anyone smack or strike the chimes on purpose, they will cause a discordant note that makes the chimes otherwise useless for 24 hours.

[possessum]

[ Coincidentally, the first day of November is Peter's eighteenth birthday. Officially an adult, by some standards, anyway. It's.. a strange feeling; there's been a melancholy hanging around him, amplified by trying to recover from October's horrors.

The gift almost seems Meant to Be, a much-needed source of relief. At first, he doesn't realise it has some sort of magical property — he just hangs it up out on the porch and sits under it in the mornings to come, listening to the relaxing chimes. It reminds him of his old house, before this place.

But he soon comes to realise that the sound is more than simply soothing; it's a balm for upset, for ache, for the usual things. For Paimon too — and the gift comes just in time. The river near their house has just.... vanished, seemingly overnight. Deerington is shifting. And the demon used to find solace there by the sounds of the water; he's upset by its disappearance. But the chimes are a perfect substitute.

It's a wonderful gift, and one Peter will be very much grateful to his friend for. When he realises Credence is gone, he'll think of him each time he sits by the chimes. ]

a thing | shh pretend it's the 1st

[creidim]

[ On the morning of the first of November, the bloodied hellscape of October begins to recede. There's a hush over the town, Sleepers left to pick up the pieces from the month, finally able to get some sleep after a long month without it. It's by some miracle that Henry's still awake when Luna comes over with a small dog in tow, offering quiet sympathetic smiles. She moves to head up the stairs, Rex following close at her heels, recognising where she's headed.

But there's silence at her soft knock on the bedroom door, and she carefully opens the door and peers in to find a sleeping form on the bed. Rex slips inside, trotting over to Peter with a soft whine, peering up at the bed for a long moment while Luna lets herself in. She clicks her tongue softly, directing the dog to his own bed in one corner of the room — best to leave the boy sleeping.

He seems to sleep deeply, exhaustion on clear on his face as Luna draws near. She's tired, too. Dark circles and red-rimmed eyes to match his. She'll need to sleep soon, but she had something very important to do on top of returning Rex to his owner. She looks at Peter quietly for a moment with a soft smile before she turns to his bedside and places some items there.

The two boxes are wrapped in silvery paper he's seen before, tied with deep green ribbon. She leaves the parcels on the bedside with a little handmade card addressed to him, propped up against them. The largest of the two a little smaller than a shoebox, filled with different kinds of wizarding world sweets. The smaller of the two is no bigger than the size of his palms. In this one is a golden pocket watch on a chain. It looks just like an ordinary pocket watch, but there's an extra button on the side. When pressed, the the clock face magically changes and rearranges itself; several arms appear and the face changes to segments labelled: home, work, school, in town, lost or in peril. The new clock arms are delicately labelled with a symbol to represent a person Peter has a close relationship with in Deerington — the tiny crescent moon representing Luna currently placed in the 'in town' section.

There's been a left note with the watch to explain how it works, who the symbols are for and an extra little note: It is customary for a witch or wizard to receive a watch when they become of age.

Gifts silently delivered, Luna turns back towards the sleeping boy. She hovers for a long moment, lips pursed — suddenly a little unsure and shy as she debates with herself. Moving before she loses her nerve, she leans over and presses a gentle kiss against his cheek.

Happy Birthday, Peter. ]

cries @ this......

[possessum]

[ The nightmare of October fades into a dreamlike state instead: gentle November snow and quiet ease. But that relieve from the horror of those bloody weeks is disorienting in its own ways. Peter feels.... sick, strange, coming out of it. No doubt, everyone does in various ways.

For him, it's waking up from so many bizarre perpetual nights being swallowed up by Paimon, with the smell and taste of blood so heavy in him. Luna's care of the demon has helped a lot, but there's still much to recover from; Peter feels ill, untangling himself from bed sheets he'd been tucked so deeply into as though seeking protection. His mind, though heavy with exhaustion, is at least clear again; he knows who he is. There's Rex to greet him as he wakes, and... items at his bedside. And he knows why — he doesn't have to remember, this time. Last year he'd completely forgotten his birthday; it had slipped past.

This year, he's... been thinking about it approaching. It's been an odd thing pressing in on him, an uncomfortable pinprick against his side. But he hadn't been expecting to wake up to any presents; he hadn't outright advertised it or anything like that. He'd been expecting to just face it quietly on his own, and let it fade away.

Peter helps Rex up onto his bed (those short legs have a hard time jumping; maybe he should see if the pet shop has any of those little doggy stairs....) and moves to sit there too, slowly sorting through the items. The card first: it has him smiling, softly surprised. It's from Luna, made by hand. Little button musical notes. The sweets from her world are met with an almost boyish little excitement fluttering up in him — food. He'll share these with Henry (........and probably with Paimon, who will no doubt sneak his hands into them).

The watch.... stuns him. It's beautiful, gold and shine, and the magic of it, the second face, is amazing; he spends a long time just watching the little hands to see when they move — Luna's now safely 'at home'. Even without magic involved, Peter's never had anything like this before. It makes him think of his dad in a way, a lump wavering in his throat. He misses his dad, misses... everyone, and that's perhaps a deep part of his lurking melancholy. Turning eighteen is a strange feeling; any birthday would be, but this one in particular.... he's reached adulthood and he's aware that he's still changing, growing, in this place. But he doesn't know what it's like for him back home. He might be dead too, or... something worse.

But it means something deeply to him, that someone left these gifts to greet him with. It's... a reminder that there are things to look towards. That in this place, he has things to reach for, to look forward to. People who think of him, people to love. He hasn't lost everything. He spends a long time gently and carefully brushing his fingers against the watch's surface; this is a gift to take great pride in.

He's sure Luna needs time to rest, to slowly start her own healing process, so he'll call her later in the afternoon, to thank her for this. ]

sometime this week 🎁

[nakedsingularity]

[Henry's been warming herself with a kernel of anger in her gut since puberty set in, but the unsettled anger she feels as the snow begins to fall and she slowly stops expecting a fresh hallucination to spring on her around every corner is a sharper, more jittery ire. It's an anger tinged with loss, too. October had hit her particularly hard and personally, but the start of November makes her think of someone else who shares a birthday with Peter. One of her oldest losses here, but one that still smarts.

Her frustration is spring-loaded with no viable trigger or target to unload it on, and she spends a lot of time glaring out at the new addition to their house. The set dressing changed while she was busy losing her shit, it seems. She doesn't like it--not the gigantic tree house now nestled in the trees by the forest, or the inexplicably missing stream running by the house. Change is suspicious at the best of times, but these changes are like the sudden absence of so many people: abrupt, unexplained, and unwanted.

She likes the way Peter blanches at the tree house even less. She's sure it's for some awful fucking reason--because everything about their lives seems to built on some awful fucking foundations--and that tempts her to grab some gasoline and a match and take care of at least one of these problems.

For a few days she fumes, and she glares, and she sketches in her little black sketchbook--first absently and then with a purpose once she resolves to exert some kind of control without starting a forest fire.

Once her design is done, she slings her bag of paints over her shoulder and disappears up into the tree house for the better part of an afternoon. Empty paint cans drop from the hatch one after another. Finally, the last thing to leave is her, with her hands a little more smeared with paint than they were when she started.

Peter will find some alterations the next time he goes up. The first thing he'll see upon climbing off the ladder is a poster affixed to the plain wooden wall, something she'd found once upon a time at the department store and thought was funny. She'd always meant to one day jokingly put up in his room, but then she'd gone back to Reston and... well, maybe it's time for that cheesy laugh.

But when he turns around, he'll see her real effort to write over whatever past this eyesore has had: a white doe made out of moonlight and stars, poised in the rain-soaked greenery of what she envisions peaceful Utah back country must look like.

Happy birthday, Petey.]

A COMPLETELY UNNECESSARILY LONG REACTION bc this killed me.... (1/2)

[possessum]

[ Peter can't claim to know how this place works, what logic is behind the choices of the powers that be, but he understands one thing about it. It knows all of your personal ghosts, and it's only a matter of time before each of them are brought to your doorstep.

Such that, when the treehouse just appears overnight — out back, supported by four tall trees, exactly as it was back home — he's not surprised. Horrified, frightened, wounded, yes. But it's not a surprise. He wasn't expecting it, but seeing that last real remnant of Charlie doesn't bowl him over the way he thought it might. That ultimate thing was always meant to find its way to him, that place where his fate was always destined to finally reach its climax.

Of course, he doesn't know exactly what that treehouse will eventually hold for him, back home: how the second he returns there, he'll be led up the ladder and to a room full of people, to the beheaded remains of the women of his family. To be crowned king, only it won't be Peter anymore. He'll be hollowed out all the way, and something else will fill up the insides of him.

The appearance of the treehouse does, however, weight heavily on him. He's already tipping towards another depressive spell — turning eighteen feels.... weird, and he's melancholic through the early days of November. Not distancing from Henry or outright behaving any more gloomily than he already does, but it's there in the subtle things. How he spends more time in bed, how he stops shaving again, doesn't bother to trim locks of hair that have grown completely wild from October. How he spends a lot of time staring at nothing, lost in his thoughts — eyes too clear to be the usual demon zone out spells.

The treehouse is the unwelcomed final push, and Peter mostly ignores it, eyes purposefully avoiding looking that way. It's in view of his bedroom window, so he leaves the blinds and curtains drawn shut.

But he does go up into it. Just briefly, just to look around — and he draws his knees to his chest with his back against a wall and cries a little, and misses Charlie, and misses his family, and then he comes back down. It'll be some days before he goes back up into it again, and he can't say why he does. It's numbly, movements up the ladder robotic, stiff. He'll probably just sit up there in it again for awhile (and unknowingly, half of his compulsion is Paimon, the strange and jumbled Charlie-part of his memories that are drawn to the treehouse as their safe space).

But something tugs Peter out of his unfeeling state, replaces it with a startle instead: a poster that he definitely didn't hang up, and he doesn't quite hit him that it had to have been Henry just yet. Because what he sees when he turns around is slowburn shock, and he just stares, mouth tipping open, eyes wide.

It's.... Luna. He recognises the white doe right away — he'd seen her too, in that form. At first he hadn't known it was her, and the realisation had come later, but.... he'd remember her anywhere, now. An ethereal swirling of white, as though she was comprised of the essence of the moon itself. An impossibly sweet and yet so familiar softness, a.... safety.

He... doesn't understand, not at first, completely stunned: How is this here? But then it comes, the realisation slowburn and building. He lives in a household of artists: Paimon.... does things with art, draws and collects and creates. And there's Henry, and.... Peter recognises her handiwork even if this is different from anything he's ever seen from her.

Henry did this. Somehow, she... knows Luna in that form. Because it's absolutely Luna; there isn't anyone or anything else in this place that looks like the particular deer. Peter slowly moves to sit cross-legged in front of the artwork, just staring at it for an unknown period of time, transfixed. Forgetting, for a little while, his anxiety, his upset, his hurt.

When he finally comes down, he's still dazed, but quietly. He'll find Henry, wherever she is, and he doesn't quite know how to say 'thank you', because he can't quite put into words what he's thanking her for. It's... too much to simplify. How she'd known to paint Luna. How she'd known to paint her for him. The treehouse is the same, but... also different, now. Something different. Something that has pieces of Luna, and Henry, in it.

He doesn't know how to stay 'thank you', so he slips his arms around her for a shy hug (a rarity for them both, and he probably inflicts much more awkwardness than if he had simply said 'thank you'), and says "the treehouse looks good" (oh Peter.... you tried....)

...Henry's become something different for him, too, over the past months. Or maybe she always had been really, since the moment he appeared in this house and instantly became a resident. "Family" is what they were assigned to be, after all. But the word resides in a different place in him now. They're each other's family.

Following inevitable awkward laughs and/or generous eyebrow raises, he'll invite her up for a smoke after dinner, in the treehouse. It was never his; it was always Charlie's. And then it would be Paimon's.

But here, maybe it's his and Henry's. ]

text; un: fern

[laminae]

[Fern really, really doesn't want to have to send this message. His life is a mess and he wants to crawl into a hole or go live in one of the sinkholes and spend the rest of his days killing things. But he knows neither of those would actually be healthy, just like he knows he needs to do this.

Still, it takes him a good while to figure out what he wants to say, and even longer to type it all out.]

hey uh
you can tell Paimon i've got my memory back and that i'm sorry for forgetting him
and um
also kind of
sorry to you too
for everything

text | un: P.Graham

[possessum]

[ The message sits there for a good while as Peter tries to process how to handle this. How to respond. Fern's certainly been on his mind a lot, ever since he'd last seen him — and haunting more and more of his nightmares, thanks to Paimon. He has no idea how to take Fern saying he's kind of sorry... for everything? But there's this weird flicker of guilt that's been persistent, one that he knows means he's sorry, too.

After a little while, Peter knows he has to answer, too. ]

Hey
I'll....let him know you're back
He's been really worried about you

I uh
I should be the one saying that
I know I freaked you out
And you were really sick, you didn't need that

Forwarded to Christmas; Action; cw: painting of dead birds

[survivalthroughhate]

[Maul has put all his sneaky warrior-ninja skills to good use, breaking into people's houses in the early hours of the morning, and leaving them their gifts in spots where he's sure they'll find them, with a tag addressed to them from Maul. He doesn't quite realize this gesture could be taken the wrong way given this is Deerington and all, but it's the thought that counts.

Maul has two gifts. The first is for Paimon, a bunch of dead birds arranged rather artfully in a basket. He wasn't sure what the demon would want them or use them for, but he figured he'd like them nontheless. Thoughtfully, he also hadn't forgotten Peter, addressing a note that read, 'You. The host. You may escape one future encounter with me at your convenience.']

— Paimon's reaction

[possessum]

[ He absolutely loves this and will put these birds to very good use....... ]

delivery

[laruetheday]

[ There is something in a brown paper bag sitting in front of Peter's house, his name scrawled lazily on the side. Also tucked inside is a little card that simply reads "you need a cooler bong."

Merry Christmas or whatever. ]

[possessum]

[ ojgpaspkgp;fd a weaponised bong. THANKS, CLARISSE.

He'll definitely make good use of it....... ]

delivery

[fayzedandconfused]

[ Peter will find a large package in front of his home that contains this lawn sculpture... And a note that says "merry xmas! - breeze" ]

[possessum]

[ This is quirky af and he loves it. These are absolutely going in the yard for Cursed Decoration.

They'll probably end up graffiti-ed by Henry at some point, and Paimon will probably go sit on them sometimes and stare into the distance. Aka the whole family can find some kind of weird fucking use for these things! Thanks, Brianna. ]

25 December- delivery

[teamfun]

[On Christmas Day, Peter will receive a wrapped gift containing a T-Shirt. There's also a weird creepy doll and a note:]

🎅 HO HO HO! HAPPY CHRISTMAS!🎄 (The T-Shirt is for you, the doll is for Paimon)

- Louis

[possessum]

[ Get you a friend who very thoughtfully thinks of the demon possessing you, too.

It's perfect, Louis; The shirt is very happily going into Peter's Black T-shirt Collection. Paimon will also be over the moon that he got to share in a gift exchange with someone....! This means his bond with Louis has increased! It's great news!!

He'll tote it around and leave it in Peter's bed and spook him with it. ♥ ]

Christmas 🎄

[nakedsingularity]

[nO

As a year-round Grinch with limited investment in seasonal hijinks, she could live without the ye old Christmas gift exchange. She could especially live without a "gift" from Paimon. She's never wanted one of his creepy dolls, and she doesn't want one now, take it back. (The rest may stay.)

... It does make her feel less bad she got him something for his wild man facial hair situation and a hoodie for the dog that matches Peter's with the best card Deerington can provide, though.]

[possessum]

[ ..................................... Hell is empty, and all the devils are here. In this card. That won't shut up.

If Henry finds flecks of glitter in the hallway and trekked in random other places over the next few days (weeks? Glitter is eternal), well. It's just evidence that Peter did end up ripping the thing up.

Merry Christmas, guys. You managed to terrorise each other in some shape or form! That's true holiday spirit.

Only Rex came out of this happy....... ]

December 25th | gift

[eudaimonikos]

[Michael also makes time to deliver a few gifts on Christmas morning! Paimon's is left on his doorstep, neatly wrapped and labeled. It's a beginner's pyrography kit with a helpful instruction book included! Paimon seems interested in a lot of different art forms, and this seems like an interesting one Michael himself knows really nothing about!

Is it a bad idea? LOL MAYBE

Also - well, he knows Paimon much better than Peter, but they have met and it seemed rude to get one a gift and not the other. Basically all he knows about Peter is that he's got a dog, though? So his gift contains a fashionable dog sweater!]

[possessum]

[ SO HE LOVES THIS.

A new Thing to Learn! And he can use this to make so much cool new art stuff!!! Michael is the best........ You've made one demon king very happy. And one human boy very nervous, but never mind him. Paimon could probably accidentally (....or purposefully) kill anyone with this, but he hasn't really been particularly murderous lately, so......... should be fine.

The dog sweater is really cute though, and helpful for cold winter days! ]

text; un: littlealbatross

[soulmakingsound]

[It's been a while since she's seen or heard from Peter himself, and she's starting to worry a little. So a text is sent:]

How are you?
I have cookies for you
For Christmas
A gift

[possessum]

Hey River
I'm okay, just taking it easy
You doing okay?

[ He hasn't been... in the best place, lately. But mention of cookies has him perking up. Teenage boy governed by his stomach, over here. ]

Oh man that's really nice of you
Your cookies are awesome

[ Misshapen or not. ]

Audio UN: RadRidingHood

[clickclickbloom]

[Sometime after This. ]

Pssssssst.
Peter!
Do you have a minute?
We need to talk.

audio | un: P.Graham

[possessum]

Ruby? Is everything okay?

[ Being Peter, of course his first thought is To Worry. ]

🎁December 25th delivery for Peter (and Paimon... look, K's thinking of them both with this)

[obeir]

[ A festively wrapped package has been left in Peter's mailbox with an attached note wishing him happy holidays from K. Inside the package he'll find a small, gold crown charm with multiple gemstone accents that K requested from Sodder for him (and his demon... companion) — of a good size to be worn as a brooch, or perhaps on a keychain or bracelet. When worn or simply kept on his person in a pocket or the like, the charm will provide a calming effect on the mind: soothing any anxieties, enabling a restful sleep, or helping increase mental focus (and hopefully assisting Peter with his studies...), depending on what's most needed at the time. ]

[possessum]

[ At first, Peter's wary of the gift — because it's a crown, and he knows The Thing likes those, and he's not sure. But the gift is from K, one of the few adults left in this place whom Peter feels he can trust. He.... thinks K wouldn't do anything to hurt him. And it's this fact alone that leads Peter to actually use the gift instead of shove it away somewhere.

And it doesn't take him long to realise what the gift does. Once he figures that out? He's going to be toting it around with him practically 24/7. It soothes him, helps him, and helps settle the demon within him, too. It is something they both can use, together or apart, and when Paimon's the one in the driver's seat he will absolutely be hanging onto the charm as well. It's a gold crown with gemstones. He loves it. As always, K knows exactly what to do. ]

Voicemail (Klapbak)

[clussy]

Umm- hi. Peter? Peter, right?

(Eddie knew how to use Staggr well enough by now to make sure ahead of time before looking like a total fool contacting someone he's only spoken to once. But what's social confidence anyway.)

This is Eddie Kaspbrak. I don't know if you remember - it's okay if you don't - but you talked to me last month after...After I made a post about wanting to be a better person?

(Why was! This! So hard!)

I never really responded. I wasn't in the best headspace, honestly, but I wanted you to know that it um- it meant a lot? Like. You didn't have to go out of your way to say all that. Or be that nice to some random kid having some existential crisis on the network.

(Was this normal to thank people for. Eddie doesn't know but it felt right to do. Because-)

I've just kept thinking about it randomly. And I wanted you to know that it helped. You made me feel a lot less lonely and scared even if it was for a minute. So. Thank you. Anyway, I hope you're doing okay. If you're not - mentally or physically - I'm always around to listen. And I'm a medic. Not legally, obviously, but I can patch you up if you ever need it.

(He's absolutely rambling but Peter had offered him help way back in December and now Eddie wanted to make it clear that he was as down to be of help if he could manage it.)

audio | un: P.Graham

[possessum]

[ The username is familiar, but Peter doesn't pinpoint who exactly it belongs to at first. He forgets things a lot, more and more over time. Like he's eroding away, maybe. Dates, facts, names and faces.... at first, he can't place a face.

Until the message continues, and with the information given, the particular tone of the younger boy's voice, a face emerges in his head. A teary face, red-eyed, upset. Peter hasn't forgotten that; he never could. He's thought about the boy over the weeks since then; in a way, Eddie's haunted him, softly and quietly. But he's been a more gentle ghost than some of the others that live under Peter's skin. A sad one. Not unwelcomed.

And here he is again, and Peter's.... gently floored by all of it, and he can only sit there for a long while, replaying the message once or twice.

'You made me feel a lot less lonely and scared even if it was for a minute.'

He helped him. Helped someone. His heart skips a weird beat; he's almost afraid to reach back out to the boy again afterwards, like maybe he'll ruin it from here, the way he ruins everything. But it's a chance to check on Eddie again, to talk to him. And he knows he has to do that. So Peter gathers his nerve for a bit, and then calls the username back. ]

Eddie? Hey, it's Peter. I uh, I got your message. [ Is the nervous lump in his throat obvious from the way he's speaking? Probably. But Peter keeps going. ]

It's good to hear from you again. I was— [ Worried. ] —hoping you were doing okay.

It's okay, really. You don't have to thank me for that. You... deserve for people to be nice to you. [ He may hardly know the younger teen at all so maybe that's a strange thing to say aloud, but every kid deserves kindness. And... Peter has a particularly soft heart for ones that are so openly distressed, anxious. ]

But I'm glad I could help, even a little. To be honest, a lot of what you were saying rang true in me, too. [ There's the hint of a smile in his tone, a bit sad. Darknesses and hurting people and the concept of wanting to be better. Yeah. Yeah, he fucking feels that. ]

You know how to do medical stuff? That's pretty cool, man. I uh, do tend to get bruised up kind of easily, so I'll keep that in mind. [ ....Demon Injuries tend to happen a lot and he just kind of has learned to live with chronic black eyes or split lips. ]

How are you holding up, though? Okay? [ Peter finally ventures, softly. ]

[Delivery]

[laminae]

[A few days before Valentine's Day Peter will find a package at his door.

It's a box of chocolates and a bouquet of flowers! And it comes with a handwritten note:]

Hey,

I just learned about this rad human holiday where you give people stuff if they're important to you, so I hope you like chocolate!

And if this isn't how the holiday works, sorry. I'm trying my best here.

-Fern

P.S. The flowers are for Paimon. Sorry if that's weird.

[possessum]

[ Once again, Peter finds himself very surprised by a very thoughtful gift from Fern. The concept of being given things by the other boy is still so new and strange and yet... it's genuinely nice of him. Whatever antagonistic things existed between them before has just progressively been dwindling down into something else that's almost.... well, kind of chill. Kind of nice?

Anyway, Peter's going to actually send Fern a thank you text message this time. ]

Hey dude, thanks for the chocolates. They're really good. I'm already halfway through the box

I left the flowers for him
I'm pretty sure he liked them because he's already started using them for art stuff?
I found a bunch of petals glued to a sheet of paper. Who knows what he's making....

[ He really doesn't like talking about the demon, but knowing his relationship with Fern....he'd feel like a huge jerk to ignore his efforts. He gets that the whole king-knight thing is important to them. ]

Hope you had a good Valentine's and got to eat some chocolates too

late night text

[laruetheday]

smash ?

[ Literally who cares if this is the first time they've spoken since Clarisse "died" and turned into a ghost, she needs to know this vital information. ]

[possessum]

Clarisse??
Are you like ok

What smash

[ This seems ominous ]

action. visiting. late jan/early feb.

[oldhound]

[ There's a lot of things he could blame his poor attitude on in December. Lots of things leading up to and past that put him in that sorry state. At the end of it all, though? He's the one that went and cocked everything up. As per his usual.

Went and disappeared. Pushed everyone away. Horribly, for some. Said bloody terrible things and somehow---somehow they all just refused to give up on him. It's not something he's used to by a long shot. He fully expected a myriad of colorful versions of: "Damn you, John Constantine" or "Piss off" at the least.

Pretty sure it was meeting back up with River on the beach and then waking up to the very real possibility of being alone in this place with nothing more than regrets to show for it that spurred this on. Not to mention the talk he'd had with Herc over his own son. It's why he's here on the doorstep, trying to work up the nerve to knock.

When he finally does, his stomach is still twisting in knots as he waits. ]

rambles a little bit jgpakslf me getting all the feelings over this

[possessum]

[ The loss of John has been..... strange. A strange loss, and Peter's fluctuated between feeling cut deeply by it and being numbed. The knowledge that he'll never see his parents again has been a weight he's only recently really.... been able to feel. December was especially difficult, with the holiday season being a weird, gutting reminder of those things. It'd been hard. Really hard.

And through it all, the losses of other figures who have served as something.... parental have been vast empty spaces. Ben Dearborn and Will Graham. Wade Wilson. Adults who filled in some deep, aching hole in his life: protective of him and helpful and trusted. John's disappearance was weird because it wasn't wholly unexpected. You have to keep in mind that anyone could vanish around here, at any time. And at first, that's what Peter thought happened: that John had gone back home, woken back up, and the loss...... was very hard.

He mourned the man, through the other things he was mourning. John is a little scary in some ways, a little rough around the edges, knows about things that would keep Peter up at night. Terrifying things. But he's been a source of safety and knowledge and.... comfort through the boy's own terrifying ordeal. Losing him took the breath out of Peter, was a punch to the wounds already inside of him. He felt especially alone after losing the exorcist.

....But then he'd heard that John was back. Back but... not wanting to see anybody? You hear things; they have a lot of mutual acquaintances. And maybe Peter should have made more of an effort, sent him a letter or showed up at his house or shop, try to check on him and make sure he was okay. But Peter's not a pushy kind of person, and he.... naturally shies away at the slightest threat of resistance. So he waited instead, waited to see if John would say or do anything, but the man hadn't. There's been only silence. As if he was still missing, an absent presence. Hurt blossomed in the boy's chest, and an ache, and a fresh loss. One that took the shape of 'abandoned'.

So when he opens the door to see who it is, Peter's completely frozen for a long moment. It's like seeing a ghost on his doorstep, and his eyes are wide and shocked; he looks like he doesn't quite believe it. ]

John? [ Even the name feels a little strange to say, and it comes out of him sounding very small. It hasn't been that long in all honesty; it's not as if John's been vanished for half a year or something. But it.... feels like a long time, in this place. So much has happened. ]

Text UN: RadRidingHood

[clickclickbloom]

Today in class I doodled the next monster I think the town is going to throw at us.



What do you think? does it seem likely?

text | un: P.Graham

[possessum]

[ Oh my god
Ruby why and how ]

Okay those are some sexy legs though

[ That's not a lie ]

Will it just run or can it jump, too?
Spring at people....

voice; un: quibbler | after Diarmuid's network warning

[creidim]

[ Maul going on a rampage of sorts has happened before, with Fern dying last year. She'd subdued him somewhat, using his madness and his confusion for her as his Master to her advantage to get him to calm down, to stop him from harming others. But this isn't like last time; this is... more, worse. He sees fit to harm everyone who comes in his path.

It's dangerous in more ways than one, and she's worried. Maul's interested in Paimon; less so in Peter, given his opinion on him when they'd spoken. And Peter is very much human, demonically possessed or not. And if Maul's hurting friend and foe alike...?

She's trying not to think about it. She's redoing protection charms and deterrents on her home, breathless when she calls. It'll be left as a voice message: ]

... Where are you? Please be somewhere safe. I'm alright, just— [ There's a long pause, she inhales shakily. ] Please be safe.

JUST A LIL REACTION..... to be cruel...

[possessum]

[ It's a stroke of horrible irony that Peter's on his way to Luna's as she sends the message. He doesn't see the alert; his Fluid is tucked deeply into his bag under a change of clothes. He's expecting to spend at least one night at her place, wanting to stay close. But he hadn't told her he was coming over, because.... because if he told her why, he knows she'd want to come collect him instead. Because she'd want to protect him, wouldn't want him out on the streets by himself.

And sometimes, Peter wants to protect Luna, instead.

So he's making his way to her home, swiftly. He knows the way there like the back of his hand; he makes sure to take the quickest route. But he won't make it there, and no reply will come to Luna's warning. ]

post-death [1/2]

[micycle]

[Ring. Ring. Ring-

Silence.

Ring. Ring-

Silence.

Two missed calls, both ended without giving Peter the chance to pick up. But then, after a couple more minutes... ]

[2/2]

[micycle]

i'm sorry

text; un: abs

[armd]

Hey

(this is so stupid how do you... coyly broach something like this. straight up, obviously, but it makes abby feel like a teenager for some reason, like she's sneaking around. reminds her of mel pocketing supply from the WLF infirmary every so often for them all to share. she rolled such sloppy joints.)

Apparently you're the person I should be asking about weed

Friend said to tell you hot fists sent me

(she still doesn't get that but. whatever, there it is clarisse.)

I'M SENT

[possessum]

[ Peter, who is extremely paranoid on even a good day, is currently suffering a month-long death flu. It has weird effects on his anxiety, and receiving a text message from a stranger has him, at first, Very Suspicious.

But then. ]

You know Hot Fists?

[ It's........ become A Thing. Suddenly, it's become A Thing. But (he thinks) he has to protect Clarisse's identity, so he's sticking to the nickname..... ]

Yeah, I have a shitton honestly
I can hook you up
I have edible stuff too if you want some of those

Text | RadRidingHood

[onekindsoul]

Hey Peter.
How you holding up?
You busy?

text | un: P.Graham

[possessum]

Ruby, hey
It's good to hear from you

[ Good that you're still here. ]

I'm hanging in there, but what about you? Are you doing okay?
And no, I'm just kind of sitting around doing a whole lot of nothing

Delivery Backdated to mid-April-ish

[azurestar]

[When Peter steps outside of his house one day in April, he will find a nicely sized box of jell-o packs with a bow tied around the whole package to secure it. Tied to the bow is a note that reads:]

Sorry about that stuff in the lab. I wasn't exactly myself. I think I owe you more than a bunch of jell-o but this's the best I could do with things the way they are.

- Lance