webdesigned | (no subject)

Peter. Are you okay?

a few bumps and bruises but otherwise yeah. a lot of other people had it way worse

are you okay? you live with sans, right? he was taking things really hard. not that i blame him

Yeah. His brother and our kid were taken. It's been rough.

I'm okay. I'm pissed, but I'm okay. Glad to hear you are too.

your kid too?? who's that? when did that happen?

i'm pissed too. things are bad enough but on top of it they think they can take us and do whatever the hell they want? it's horrifying and we still have no idea who is doing it to do anything to stop them.

... sorry. it isn't your fault, I don't need to light you up about it

A daughter. Sayori. She'd just been pulled in when she got subjected to this shit.

It's okay. Light away.

[ there may or may not be a tree in their backyard with a few marks in the trunk from where she'd been throwing knives into it. ]

oh god. i know her. is she... is she okay?

i just wish i knew who i was supposed to be stopping. innocent people keep getting hurt, we're test subjects in some bizarre game, and i don't know what to do. usually there's some hint or thread or sign but here there's nothing.

( okay, so, maybe he's not handling it that great after all. whoops. )

I wouldn't call it okay. Everyone's just trying to cope.

I know. And I hate it, too. Especially since we don't have any answers.

[ it's been like reeva controlling the inner circle, bringing in more and more dangerous factors without explaining their goal. except they don't know who's in charge of this. there's no one to direct their anger towards. ]

i will try and check in with her.

my "dad" disappeared, too, it's just different somehow. it's like he never existed at all. and no matter how much i ask or where i look there's no sign of him. i really doubt he just ollied back home, you know?

Good. I think she'd like that.

Yeah. I don't know how they decide what happens here, who goes home or gets taken or why. [ maybe there's a pattern none of them can see yet, some rules broken none of them had realized. it's better than thinking that it's all random. ]

I'm sorry he's gone.

people keep saying that. "home". like that's some foregone conclusion and if we can't find someone they went back where they're supposed to be.

but there were just a good dozen people in a secret lab being experimented on. seems more likely to me that something way worse than a trip home happens. i just can't prove it. like i can't prove anything around here.

I think it's something they need to believe.

[ she knows she does. ]

i wish i could believe it.

( as it is, he can't. after everything that just happened? he definitely can't. )

[ she's finding it harder to believe, too. but she needs to, needs to hold out hope that she'll see her daughter again, that the world she'd been trying to build for her was salvageable. ]

I need to.

( Peter tries his best to be hopeful. optimistic. but he also can't help but think there's not a lot of optimism in this situation. out of sight is not out of mind. )

i hope you're right.

( hope he can do. even if he can't quite manage to believe. )

[ oh what the fuck and the stars- they have a child now??

daylight is hurrying down the stairs, trying not to make too much noise since agatha was still recovering from her injuries when he spots a new photo hanging from the wall. the new frame causes him to stop in his tracks and to inspect it, quickly realising that it's him and agatha having a picnic? with somebody?? obviously younger than them????

... it's cool, daylight, it's cool. you can do this. you just happen to be a dad now to a teenager. ha. ha ha... hahaha.......

ohgodwhatdoeshedonow- does he make breakfast? that seems like a thing a dad would do, right? make breakfast for their kids? he can do that, yeah. if he can conquer coffee than he can handle something easy as ummmmmm waffles yeah waffles will do it. ]

Hey there. [ daylight knocks on what he thinks is his son's bedroom - sorry for the mess you probably had to deal with, peter, those boxes of blankets had to go somewhere - and offers what he hopes is his brightest, totally-not nervous grin. ] Nice to meet you. I'm Daylight and looks like we're going to be, um, house buddies now.

Do you want waffles? I made waffles.

[ daylight proves the existence of the waffles but why do the waffles look like they're bubbling?? ]

( Peter is awake, but barely. the fact he's in a new bedroom that looks similar-but-not to the bedroom he'd been existing in for a few months now makes it harder to feel like he's awake. Peter is uncomfortably used to how things work in Santa Rosita, and waking up in a new house and a new life and then waking up again and going back to the one he was used to, with Da Vinci down the hall and often up to some bizarre invention or astounding painting. so he's not entirely sure where he is or even how real this moment is, and half asleep is the hardest time to parse legitimate reality.

he's just barely managed to get his glasses on (he can crawl walls and his spider senses have kicked in again, but his eyes are still terrible and his spider genes haven't recovered enough to fix them yet) when he hears the knock. or, well. freezes in the anticipation of something about to happen, and then he hears the knock.

Peter drudges out of bed (and around a lot of boxes?? why are there so many blankets????) to open the door, squinting wearily at the good looking but Extremely Tall (which is saying something — Peter is a tall kid) guy that can't be that much older than he is on the other side. ) Um. Hi. ( he sounds half asleep and a little suspicious, but it isn't personal. it's hard not to be suspicious in this town. ) I'm, uh... Peter. Are we dreaming or is this really happening?

( because dreaming would explain what is going on with those waffles. Peter is pretty sure waffles aren't supposed to do that. )

[ coffee isn't supposed to be upsettingly thick and fragrant but, despite all odds, daylight manages to inject a bit of surreal horror in the santa rosita experience™ even when he doesn't mean to. ]

Happening, it seems.

I checked the photos on the wall and, yep, looks like we're house buddies now. [ he holds up the plate of waffles as his sign of goodwill. it wriggles menacingly on its perch of the plate. ] So, um, if you've got any questions or anything, feel free to ask?

It's just me at the moment since my previous housebuddy, Agatha, ended up disappearing-disappearing.

[ the good thing is is that daylight isn't insisting peter eat them right away so there could be a chance to... not eat them, dodge the no doubt unpleasant and/or weird experience it would be. (the bad thing is that it means the waffles are just there resting on the plate while the two converse, bubbling and brewing. existing and stewing. seemingly resenting its own existence.

normal waffle things, of course.) ]

( well, Daylight, you and your suspect food have found the perfect audience. on arrival (dream arrival? it's complicated), Peter had definitely eaten a jello casserole with tuna in it. his stomach is bigger than his sense, and while Peter misses his aunt and her cooking, not every meal she made was a winner and he'd eaten it all, anyway. is moving pancakes too weird for him to try consuming it? chances aren't actually that good.

Peter frowns, a match of weary and some personal discomfort with the mention of disappearing-disappearing. he's seen that happen to a fake-parent of his own already, and it stings a little more when paired with fifteen year old memories of his father willing him to be good and disappearing into the rain with his tearful mother, neither of them to be seen again. he vaguely remembers speaking with Agatha and technically he has no good reason to feel guilty that she's gone, his sour luck with parental figures can't extend to someone that would have been his not-mother. but Peter is good at feeling guilty.

he makes a quiet note to touch base with Da Vinci, see if she's okay. she might be better off without him, all things considered.

Peter takes the plate of pancakes, mildly concerned that they'll pick up and wander off the plate if they see him coming at them with an eating utensil. maybe he'll microwave it first. ) Okay. ( Peter doesn't have so much questions as just, statements, apparently. ) Look, I'm not a kid, I promise you don't have to worry about me. I've got a job, I can help out if you ask. I'll try not to stay out late or anything.

[ it takes daylight a few seconsd to realise what peter had said, blinking a few times before it sinks in and- oh.

smiling nervously but appearing to be good-natured still, daylight raises his hands and waves them back and forth, shaking his head in polite disagreement-agreement. ] Oh no- Um- You don't need to worry about that, buddy. It's cool! We're house buddies and house buddies have to trust each other, you know?

Like... I don't think I have any right to fuss over you or the others here so, um, don't worry about me trying to trail you or anything. Not when I did a lot of stuff when I was younger not too long ago. [ he won't lie - he is still surprised he's considered an adult in this town but is doing his best here. because whoof. looking back now, after everything in his life and while in this town?

meddy and his family had the patience of saints or knew saints to put up with him. seems only right to pay it back by doing right by others. ] I can't promise to not worry about you because we're on the same boat and we know what this town is capable of but I won't condescend you. Like you said, you're not a kid. You're a guy who's going to need backup and I want to help you out in that aspect.

If you want, I can give you a tour of the house while you eat- [ oh no, daylight is actually expecting peter to eat the dubious food he made? rest well, peter's stomach. ] -and show you where you can get supplies like medicine or extra things like batteries or blankets. In case you need it or you know friends who need it.

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@polaris | post event

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action. | the house and around early march because what is time to us rpers

time is an illusion that relentlessly drags us all asunder

mood as i struggle to figure out what 'five to ten minutes to thaw' means for my frozen pizza dinner

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