[ There are parts of Daniel's first day in this place that feel a little like a blur after a while. Mostly since arriving here was so confusing, but.. honestly, the state he arrived in sure didn't help. It's not like he's physically entirely better at this point, but at least there's a bit more mental distance between him and the events that transpired right before he found himself in this city - which helps.
But even in that blur.. Daniel sure remembers that kid who seemed even worse off than him. He can somehow recall his face so clearly, maybe exactly because it gives him so many worries just to think about it. Has he been okay? Did he find help? There sure seem to be a lot of doctors around here, but it's hard to tell when a teenager will actually reach out for help.
.. so maybe he has to help a little bit here. Even if it's not like he's the boy's father, someone has to reach out a helping hand. ]
Peter, right?
This is Daniel LaRusso. Do you remember? We ran into each other on our first day here. I'm the guy who couldn't speak. Still can't, actually.
[ You know, hence this being a text message, rather than a call.. ]
I was wondering if you've been alright. I could bring you a nice warm meal, if you'd like.
[ Peter's felt a similar blur β truthfully, he has no idea how much time has passed since he stumbled off of that train and into this empty world. And the days and nights since then remain some odd haze, one that steals his focus and time and memory. Things pass by slowly and through a thick cloud. He still has to struggle to remember his name.
The text message startles him to begin with (as most things do....) and it takes him a few long moments to piece together some sort of memory. He couldn't describe the man's face right now if asked, just remembers the bruises there, and a throat that wouldn't work. Vocal chords damaged, croaking sounds. A shudder slips involuntarily down his spine, and something moves in him. Peter gasps aloud, drops his own device, finds it on the carpet of the apartment living room a few moments later. ]
i remember you were hurt
[ Still are. Still can't speak, he says. The kind of injuries he had will take time to heal. Peter's too β he's since been helped out by others, bandage replaced and wounds cleaned, but his nose is irrefutably broken, and he thinks something might be damaged on the inside of him. ]
[ At least the delay before the messages arrive don't really worry Daniel all that much. For all he knows, Peter could be in the middle of doing something.. and since the reply arrives only a few moments later, Daniel very much assumes that is what was going on.
(And, you know, not Peter getting so startled by an incoming message that he managed to nearly chuck away his own communication device.)
Seeing his injuries pointed out - remembered - is a little less great, but.. hey, if it helps the teen recognize him, Daniel supposes he'll take it. ]
I do. Enough to share.
[ The upside of being able to take as many ingredients with you from the stores as you can.. For how unsettling this city is, it sure doesn't seem to have a food shortage. ]
I wasn't sure if you could cook. [ Daniel's own kids - close to Peter's age - sure can't. Especially Anthony. ] And the food in the restaurants here seems a little.. odd. Better to have something that was actually made by a person, right?
[ Are things getting better? They're still stuck here, everything gets more unhinged one day after another. Robby prefers it when he doesn't read the city-issued phone (thanks, fuckface city) and its network, with some of the shit people are talking about. Doing. Even the mundane topics have a way of getting under him, thinking about getting to that level of used to this.
He's got a couple of other people to think about, though. One that's...more worrisome in a different direction from the other: one just younger, the other just--potentially one bad day from a breakdown.
People say you can make situations worse trying to help people when you don't know what you're doing. Peter isn't his responsibility, but he's still concerned about the treatment he probably needs. The kind of treatment that doesn't seem available in the city.
Regardless, he checks up on him. Does so now with a knock on his door, see if he's in. Leans in his head a little to the wood. ]
Hey, Peter? It's Robby.
[ And now he waits. If he's gone out, then that's good.
Even if being in or out doesn't really feel like it makes a difference around here. ]
[ Peter spends most of his days here, tucked away in the apartment. As for how many days it's been, he couldn't say; they bleed. Sometimes all at once, a rush, like a wound cut wide open, and he loses track of entire days. Sometimes it's more of a trickle, time seeming to tick on relentlessly, dripping one droplet at a time.
He's cleaned up a little at least, thanks to a small variety of influences, a couple of people in the city who see him and want to help him. The bandaged splint across his nose has been exchanged for a clean one, though the bruising remains, a slow process to heal. He's gotten fresh clothes, his old ones washed and tucked away in a corner of the living room where he's set up camp.
(He doesn't like being in bedrooms. He keeps those doors closed.)
Sometimes he can even drag himself into the shower. Other times he forgets how to bathe, how to do anything, just sits there and lets the water run over him until it turns cold.
But time doesn't make anything easier. He feelsβ like a fragment of a person. Like a thing trying to remember how to be one, how to exist. And sometimes he wakes up outside of the apartment door, down the hall on the floor. Sometimes it's out in the city, tucked under park benches or in the stairway of empty office buildings, on cold grey concrete. Sometimes he finds dirt under his nails, like he's been digging. Dredging something up, or tucking something away. He never knows what it is.
When the knock comes, he freezes, and waits. It could be Robby outside the door, or it could be a thing that's pretending to be Robby. Tricks happen, dancing things in the corner of his vision, whispers down the back of his spine. He's never alone even when he is, and he won't look in mirrors. He's covered up the one in the bathroom with black tape.
It takes awhile for him to answer, and when it comes, it's after convincing himself. Peter'll slowly unlock the door, and just as slowly open the thing, a crack and then a little wider. ]
[ Robby hears nothing. He's not listening too closely for sounds, but he doesn't think he hears anything, and he's ready to start thinking that Peter's gone out. Nothing wrong with that, the point of "fresh air" present.
But there's a noise finally, a scrape that leads to the tug of a hinge, and the way opens a bit. A face peeking out without trying to come forward. Robby shifts just slightly, angling himself better for the space, and his smile is subdued, but there. ]
Hey. Was wondering how you were doing. If you wanted to go out, with company. [ A beat, and he adds wryly: ] Feels less like we're in a ghost town with it.
[ He won't deny, he likes the idea for the same reason, too. Never figured he'd think about these things, even if, really, he's only acknowledging it to himself now. ]
[ Peter hasn't tried to contact Daan since that network post. He knows he needs to, but there's a certain, too-familiar fear. He can't bring himself to talk to that.... other person again. Not yet.
And then, a familiar username. He almost doesn't answer, but... guilt pools into his heart, and after a few moments of silence, he finally does, though it's with uncertainty. ]
[ A lot's... happened. Peter has little memory of how he'd been behaving around Halloween, after the influence of this place seemed to make what's wrong inside of him go even more wrong. And then, one day he'd woken up with a bite mark on his neck.... It all feels like some nightmare.
When he hears the other teen's voice, it definitely sounds tired to him β especially compared to how Tsuruno usually sounds. So he's already frowning with concern, and maybe it shows through in his tone. ]
Hey, Tsuruno. Did we uh... talk, recently? Sorry, I don't.. I don't remember.
[ He has no idea how she knows that he's been whacked out. ]
[ It's completely unexpected, that he'd receive a gift on Christmas. It floors him, actually. The holiday is something that he hadn't... forgotten about, necessarily; it'd be hard to do that when the importance of the date is so heavily ingrained in most people's minds.
But it's his first Christmas without his family. With the knowledge that he can never, ever see them again. It's a strange time. Both too hollow and too heavy, somehow. He's a little weepy through the day, inbetween periods of numbing himself with a much-needed smoke.
He wasn't expecting this.
It takes a little while, it's hard to find the words, but Peter sends the other teen a text back after a few hours. ]
Hey, Tsuruno? It's Peter I got your gift. Thank you I super didn't expect to get anything for Christmas It's really nice
[ He means it; it's thoughtful. The little first-aid kit, the candy... the pillow. He likes that a lot, he finds. ]
Happy holidays to you, too I hope you have a really good one
[ While not feeling overly social, it wouldn't feel right not to visit Peter today, so by early afternoon she'll arrive at the door with a gentle tap-tap. She carries a few white boxes wrapped in silver ribbon, with an envelope attached to one.
Once she's inside and he does open the gifts, one small box carries a small Dutch apple pie from her favorite bakeryβjust enough for a few servings to either share or keep to himself. Another will reveal a few heavy sweaters in dark and muted colors, and perhaps too many cozy black socks, and in its own box is a dark brown cashmere scarf. Lastly, the smallest box holds a dark hand-bound notebook and an elegant black pen.
The notebook has a collection of songs, poems, and quotes (some he's heard, some he hasn't) with several open spaces for Peter to write his own notes, and extra pages to add more later on. There are also a few pages with photographs of Vanessa's Tarot cards and notes, and pages for future Tarot cards as he learns them, along with more scattered spaces for Peter's thoughts and curiosities.
The second half of the notebook is left blank for whatever he wishes to add.
Along with the note, the envelope has a voucher for 'free card readings', as well as a single joint wrapped in tissue paper and tied with a red ribbon. The note included reads: ]
My Dear Peter,
I suspect we are both uncertain and unpracticed in how to conduct ourselves during this season, but nothing should be easier or more joyful than spending time with one another. You do not deserve a Christmas trapped in this city, you deserve to be free and celebrate in whatever way would fill your heart and mind, but how selfishly grateful I am to have met you and know you still.
And I do know you; I understand you more than you may realize, so it is impossible for me not to love youβthe light of you and the shadow it casts, and the secrets betwixt.
If you are to gift me anything at all, let it be a promise to be kind to yourself, no matter what the city may reveal, no matter who may test you. There is a strength in that which even I struggle with, but you are so very young. You have so much time, time to discover such fortitude. Perhaps you may end up teaching me, but I would never want you to stop asking questions. I will never stop helping you, as you are family.
I wish for you to be merry this Christmas, and I hope that you will help me as we brave our way into the new year. Together, we will surely find home.
[ .. well, Daniel has been worrying a lot in general lately. Especially with all the recent information that's being revealed. It's been hard to find a moment where he's not worried, actually, but.. maybe that's only normal in the face of the realisation that everyone living in this city is at the constant threat of a ridiculous apocalypse at all times.
Daniel has always been bad at just sitting with that energy though, prefering to channel it in other directions. Into action.
Even if said action, in this case, is just making sure to check up on the kids he wants to keep safe. ]
Peter.
[ Truthfully, he isn't too sure how much of the recent information Peter has even gotten.. Daniel knows that the other has enough to deal with already, and his tendency to space out might have gotten in the way of learning the same things Daniel has..
[ It's common for Peter to have periods where he fades out, withdraws from things. Ever since October, he's been in another one of his lingering hazes β disconnected from most things, more a ghost than a person. It's been strange. He was... bitten, by a vampire, apparently. (Yeah, those exist, and so do werewolves?? Jesus.) Vanessa was... worried, extremely worried. He's been keeping his head down and sticking close to her since, and things have only continued to be strange from there.
He's seen glimpses of what's going on, people mentioning parts of it on the network, but like with most things he's not equipped to handle at the moment, he keeps his head in the sand, and he hasn't asked anybody directly about it or... paid much attention at all to any of the more intricate details that might've gotten revealed.
The message is a welcomed surprise on a lazy afternoon, although the question is never particularly easy for him to answer β he's not sure how he is, feels weirder and weirder with each passing day, when he's not keeping himself numb. ]
Hey man I'm okay, just lazing around Is everything okay your way? The diner still going good?
[ He hasn't been there in a fair bit β not that the absence of him is probably felt all that hard, given how Peter is... and with so many others helping out there. Still, he doesn't want to let Daniel down about it. It's been awhile since he felt that way about someone. ]
Sorry I haven't been there in a hot minute to help out I've been kind of hibernating through winter
[ A clarification for his sake as much, maybe. He likes to affirm it; it's him, it's Peter. For Vanessa, the words come shy and warm as always: comfortable. ]
I don't have anything. [ Not him, who hardly ever leaves his apartment these days unless... well, unless it's to find Vanessa again. ] Want me to meet you somewhere, or do you wanna come here?
[ Someone she wants him to meet? He might ordinarily be a little nervous, but this is Tsuruno, and Peter trusts her. Maybe it's someone from her home world? ]
I'm not doing anything, I'm good any time Want me to meet you somewhere? Or you guys can come over here if you wanna
[ A few days after talking with Peter at the gala, Constantine drops off an envelope at Peter's door. Inside, first, is a note. ]
Peter-
This is called a Sator square, or magic square. There's a version you see in maths, too, where all the rows and columns of numbers add up to the same sum in every direction. I'm sure that because it's qabalistic, all the letters in a Sator square also add up to the same sum in every direction, but hell if I can remember my numerology.
It's a protective symbol that developed in Rome about 2000 years ago. You see it over doors and on pillars, for example. If you want to put this one over your door, or under your pillow, you can, or you can carry it with you. I'd recommend under your pillow. Sit with it for a couple minutes thinking about that safe place you conjured when we did the first cleansing, and then follow your instincts.
I hope it helps, and I hope it reminds you that you're not alone.
--JC
[ The other thing in the envelope is a stiff notecard about the size of a Polaroid photo, with a word square drawn on it in red ink. ]
[ Will it work? Hell if she knows. She's hoping that the magic-y-ness of a square rather than a specifically religious symbol will resonate with Peter without causing too much strife with his passenger. If it makes him feel better, that's something. If it helps him stay more in touch with himself, that's even better.
If it rubs the demon the wrong way ... she just hopes it takes its annoyance out on the paper, rather than Peter. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
text; un: d.larusso
But even in that blur.. Daniel sure remembers that kid who seemed even worse off than him. He can somehow recall his face so clearly, maybe exactly because it gives him so many worries just to think about it. Has he been okay? Did he find help? There sure seem to be a lot of doctors around here, but it's hard to tell when a teenager will actually reach out for help.
.. so maybe he has to help a little bit here. Even if it's not like he's the boy's father, someone has to reach out a helping hand. ]
Peter, right?
This is Daniel LaRusso. Do you remember? We ran into each other on our first day here. I'm the guy who couldn't speak. Still can't, actually.
[ You know, hence this being a text message, rather than a call.. ]
I was wondering if you've been alright. I could bring you a nice warm meal, if you'd like.
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The text message startles him to begin with (as most things do....) and it takes him a few long moments to piece together some sort of memory. He couldn't describe the man's face right now if asked, just remembers the bruises there, and a throat that wouldn't work. Vocal chords damaged, croaking sounds. A shudder slips involuntarily down his spine, and something moves in him. Peter gasps aloud, drops his own device, finds it on the carpet of the apartment living room a few moments later. ]
i remember
you were hurt
[ Still are. Still can't speak, he says. The kind of injuries he had will take time to heal. Peter's too β he's since been helped out by others, bandage replaced and wounds cleaned, but his nose is irrefutably broken, and he thinks something might be damaged on the inside of him. ]
you have food?
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(And, you know, not Peter getting so startled by an incoming message that he managed to nearly chuck away his own communication device.)
Seeing his injuries pointed out - remembered - is a little less great, but.. hey, if it helps the teen recognize him, Daniel supposes he'll take it. ]
I do. Enough to share.
[ The upside of being able to take as many ingredients with you from the stores as you can.. For how unsettling this city is, it sure doesn't seem to have a food shortage. ]
I wasn't sure if you could cook. [ Daniel's own kids - close to Peter's age - sure can't. Especially Anthony. ] And the food in the restaurants here seems a little.. odd. Better to have something that was actually made by a person, right?
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SCREAMS at how late this is, no pressure to continue, we can probably wrap this p soon anyway!
yes, this sounds like a good wrap place! c:
action; some time after arrival
He's got a couple of other people to think about, though. One that's...more worrisome in a different direction from the other: one just younger, the other just--potentially one bad day from a breakdown.
People say you can make situations worse trying to help people when you don't know what you're doing. Peter isn't his responsibility, but he's still concerned about the treatment he probably needs. The kind of treatment that doesn't seem available in the city.
Regardless, he checks up on him. Does so now with a knock on his door, see if he's in. Leans in his head a little to the wood. ]
Hey, Peter? It's Robby.
[ And now he waits. If he's gone out, then that's good.
Even if being in or out doesn't really feel like it makes a difference around here. ]
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He's cleaned up a little at least, thanks to a small variety of influences, a couple of people in the city who see him and want to help him. The bandaged splint across his nose has been exchanged for a clean one, though the bruising remains, a slow process to heal. He's gotten fresh clothes, his old ones washed and tucked away in a corner of the living room where he's set up camp.
(He doesn't like being in bedrooms. He keeps those doors closed.)
Sometimes he can even drag himself into the shower. Other times he forgets how to bathe, how to do anything, just sits there and lets the water run over him until it turns cold.
But time doesn't make anything easier. He feelsβ like a fragment of a person. Like a thing trying to remember how to be one, how to exist. And sometimes he wakes up outside of the apartment door, down the hall on the floor. Sometimes it's out in the city, tucked under park benches or in the stairway of empty office buildings, on cold grey concrete. Sometimes he finds dirt under his nails, like he's been digging. Dredging something up, or tucking something away. He never knows what it is.
When the knock comes, he freezes, and waits. It could be Robby outside the door, or it could be a thing that's pretending to be Robby. Tricks happen, dancing things in the corner of his vision, whispers down the back of his spine. He's never alone even when he is, and he won't look in mirrors. He's covered up the one in the bathroom with black tape.
It takes awhile for him to answer, and when it comes, it's after convincing himself. Peter'll slowly unlock the door, and just as slowly open the thing, a crack and then a little wider. ]
Robby?
no subject
But there's a noise finally, a scrape that leads to the tug of a hinge, and the way opens a bit. A face peeking out without trying to come forward. Robby shifts just slightly, angling himself better for the space, and his smile is subdued, but there. ]
Hey. Was wondering how you were doing. If you wanted to go out, with company. [ A beat, and he adds wryly: ] Feels less like we're in a ghost town with it.
[ He won't deny, he likes the idea for the same reason, too. Never figured he'd think about these things, even if, really, he's only acknowledging it to himself now. ]
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post-pocketcat | audio; un: loveless
audio | un: P.Graham
And then, a familiar username. He almost doesn't answer, but... guilt pools into his heart, and after a few moments of silence, he finally does, though it's with uncertainty. ]
Hello?
1/2
---> video;
...It's really me. Not... him, not that cat.
video
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audio β video
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audio; un: mightiest
[ A very tentative-sounding Tsuruno. Maybe she even sounds tired. But still-- ]
Um, do you... are you feeling better?
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When he hears the other teen's voice, it definitely sounds tired to him β especially compared to how Tsuruno usually sounds. So he's already frowning with concern, and maybe it shows through in his tone. ]
Hey, Tsuruno. Did we uh... talk, recently? Sorry, I don't.. I don't remember.
[ He has no idea how she knows that he's been whacked out. ]
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[ Hissing? Scuttling around on all four limbs? ]
Sleep-walking, I think.
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delivery, backdated to Christmas
- 1 first-aid kit
- 1 lavender-scented pillow
- A bag of miscellaneous candy
- A note: ]
Happy holidays! Take care of yourself and get plenty of rest! I'm thinking of you!
Tsuruno
(just a little text reply, no pressure to respond to this!)
But it's his first Christmas without his family. With the knowledge that he can never, ever see them again. It's a strange time. Both too hollow and too heavy, somehow. He's a little weepy through the day, inbetween periods of numbing himself with a much-needed smoke.
He wasn't expecting this.
It takes a little while, it's hard to find the words, but Peter sends the other teen a text back after a few hours. ]
Hey, Tsuruno? It's Peter
I got your gift. Thank you
I super didn't expect to get anything for Christmas
It's really nice
[ He means it; it's thoughtful. The little first-aid kit, the candy... the pillow. He likes that a lot, he finds. ]
Happy holidays to you, too
I hope you have a really good one
{ christmas day!
Once she's inside and he does open the gifts, one small box carries a small Dutch apple pie from her favorite bakeryβjust enough for a few servings to either share or keep to himself. Another will reveal a few heavy sweaters in dark and muted colors, and perhaps too many cozy black socks, and in its own box is a dark brown cashmere scarf. Lastly, the smallest box holds a dark hand-bound notebook and an elegant black pen.
The notebook has a collection of songs, poems, and quotes (some he's heard, some he hasn't) with several open spaces for Peter to write his own notes, and extra pages to add more later on. There are also a few pages with photographs of Vanessa's Tarot cards and notes, and pages for future Tarot cards as he learns them, along with more scattered spaces for Peter's thoughts and curiosities.
The second half of the notebook is left blank for whatever he wishes to add.
Along with the note, the envelope has a voucher for 'free card readings', as well as a single joint wrapped in tissue paper and tied with a red ribbon. The note included reads: ]
text; un: d.larusso
Daniel has always been bad at just sitting with that energy though, prefering to channel it in other directions. Into action.
Even if said action, in this case, is just making sure to check up on the kids he wants to keep safe. ]
Peter.
[ Truthfully, he isn't too sure how much of the recent information Peter has even gotten.. Daniel knows that the other has enough to deal with already, and his tendency to space out might have gotten in the way of learning the same things Daniel has..
But maybe he should just check that too then. ]
How are you doing right now?
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He's seen glimpses of what's going on, people mentioning parts of it on the network, but like with most things he's not equipped to handle at the moment, he keeps his head in the sand, and he hasn't asked anybody directly about it or... paid much attention at all to any of the more intricate details that might've gotten revealed.
The message is a welcomed surprise on a lazy afternoon, although the question is never particularly easy for him to answer β he's not sure how he is, feels weirder and weirder with each passing day, when he's not keeping himself numb. ]
Hey man
I'm okay, just lazing around
Is everything okay your way? The diner still going good?
[ He hasn't been there in a fair bit β not that the absence of him is probably felt all that hard, given how Peter is... and with so many others helping out there. Still, he doesn't want to let Daniel down about it. It's been awhile since he felt that way about someone. ]
Sorry I haven't been there in a hot minute to help out
I've been kind of hibernating through winter
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un: hidden | audio (backdated to 1/17)
[ Who else would it be. ]
There is something that I would like to show you. Do you have any prior plans to meet, or may I borrow you for the evening?
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[ A clarification for his sake as much, maybe. He likes to affirm it; it's him, it's Peter. For Vanessa, the words come shy and warm as always: comfortable. ]
I don't have anything. [ Not him, who hardly ever leaves his apartment these days unless... well, unless it's to find Vanessa again. ] Want me to meet you somewhere, or do you wanna come here?
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text; un: mr. chandler
Peter. I was going to get some fresh air, do you feel like joining me?
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Oh. Peter's caught off-guard, and decidedly nervous, but he can't imagine refusing. So, obediently.... ]
Sure. I can do that
Do you wanna meet somewhere?
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text; un: mightiest
There's someone I wanted to introduce you to!
When's good for you?
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[ Someone she wants him to meet? He might ordinarily be a little nervous, but this is Tsuruno, and Peter trusts her. Maybe it's someone from her home world? ]
I'm not doing anything, I'm good any time
Want me to meet you somewhere? Or you guys can come over here if you wanna
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[waaaaay backdated to after the prom]
[ Will it work? Hell if she knows. She's hoping that the magic-y-ness of a square rather than a specifically religious symbol will resonate with Peter without causing too much strife with his passenger. If it makes him feel better, that's something. If it helps him stay more in touch with himself, that's even better.
If it rubs the demon the wrong way ... she just hopes it takes its annoyance out on the paper, rather than Peter. ]