pinkmoonrising | Ryslig 🙣 IC inbox

Yooooooooo

Captain Whoopass!

You wanna come see my new digs? My fam and I moved into a very sick dojo.

Its me, Leo, btw.

we still besties?

aye neon leon i remember your use name

and how much you want to use queer words i don't ken too
i don't ken "dojo"

but sure
why the fuck not

Excellent. Captain Whoopass and Neon Leon Friends Forever.

Dojo is a place where you practice fighting hand to hand. Primarily martial arts.

Hell yeah. We gonna hang out!

[It's pretty hard to say no to that. It's hard not to be charmed by it, too. In an odd way, he kind of reminds her of Sheemie in just how enthusiastically he embraces the idea of friendship - except, unlike Sheemie, it doesn't seem to be coming from a place of someone starved for kindness. It's just... niceness.]

forever's a long time. but aye sure.

can you teach me fighting then? bert's taught me some but i got to think i can learn more

Forever is for always and for as long as you need. That's what forever is.

Yeah! I can teach you some sick ninja moves!

oh, oh, oh! I can introduce you to Donnie too. He's one of my brothers, he ended up here too!

<carelesslove>

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Hey, Susan?

Are you okay?

Yeah, that feels like a weird question to ask, but, I just wanted to check in. We were both really different people.

i'm okay

sort of

[A long pause. "Okay" isn't quite the word for it, but it's hard to know what else she can say.]

i'm glad i'm not her.

Yeah, I'm... glad I'm not him either.

I'm glad we're both just us.

Which feels like a weird sentence, but, I think it makes sense.

makes plenty sense to me

i guess
in some ways it saves wondering what would have happened?

The multiverse exists, so... anything can exist. Any possibility of us.

I'm glad though, I know this you, in this time, Susan. I'm glad its the us of right now.

<carelesslove>

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cw: internalised whorephobia

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[ nature yells in the faces of those who defiled them in the form of earthquakes, roaring gales and lethal waters. shoyo can’t handle the disasters at one point or another, much less haggard, desperate humans when he wasn’t a lick hungry. when he isn’t water in his panic, he becomes a horse, and when that very panic is too great, the horse is what speaks loudest and pushes him to run— run as fast and as far as he can.

eventually, where he finds himself is open and seems a little less of a barren danger. there is an intruder among the ranch’s little horse herd once he jumps the fences, but observation tells that he’s not there to harm anyone— a small, trembling thing that barely surpasses even the shortest mare’s shoulder blades, clacking his awkward needle-like teeth at the adult animals in hopes of being accepted (they don’t entirely care, but he does come short of getting kicked and nipped when the weather is at its worse. long legs, a green splash that compliments deep burgundy fur and apricot hairs, and a short cut tail and mane that look too much like kelp. that indeed was a foal that stuck out like a sore thumb to monsters, but was hiding in plain sight when considering human eyes.

he can’t understand the horses like he wished to, but when things were “calm”, he was allowed to stay near them (and at least— the teeth clacking was accepted? a sign). he doesn’t eat grass, but he occasionally drops his head to sniff at the ground and copy the others. the kelpie foal hangs by the bellies of the more patient mates, seeming to hide insistently behind them with flattened ears when the wind blew too strongly, when thunder clapped, or when . . .

he thinks he could spot a human, famished with hunger, scouting the trees and counting the livestock, but who knew if that wasn’t his already alarmed imagination playing tricks on his eyes. it could be leaves and branches angled in strange ways, after all. ]

[Susan isn't dealing with the goddamn end of the world. Not on top of everything. She's not prepared to take on all of it. Fuck that.]

[No, as far as she's concerned, she's just going to look out for her and hers. That means she's staying put at the ranch, and keeping the animals safe from the worst of the damage, and looking after anyone she knows who comes here for shelter. And driving off anyone she doesn't know, for that matter, because she's seen what hunger can do. She's damned if she's losing her stock to scavengers just because some asshole pissed off the Moon.]

[So it turns out that those guns the other her bought can come in handy, too. She's no gunslinger, but the weight of the big six-shooters at her hips feels good, reassuring. And she's used them a couple of times in the past two days, too.]

[She's got them on her hip now, coming out to the field to saddle up one of the horses, to take a round of the fields. She looks, no doubt, as familiar to Shoyo as he does to her - and he's familiar enough that, as she comes into the field and closes the gate behind her, she freezes in place, red eyes wide, remembering. Guilt hits her like a slap in the face.]

...Fuck.

When did ye get here?

[ shoyo had told sherlock: i don't know what i'll do if i see her again. and he didn't know. he still woke up in cold sweats whenever he napped during the day, sometimes screaming, sometimes weeping, plenty of times both. the sight of large, hot flames made him want to bolt, and the scaley-horned features of any demon minding their own business would make his hair and seaweed stand on end, ripple with unease. words would make him panic if his emotions were already running too high. six, simple words put together to make shoyo more distrustful of those who spoke them than not.

he lifts his head quite quickly at the noise of wood and metal being fixed, a gate being opened and grass and gravel being stepped on. what he didn't expect when trotting out into the open with an almost hopeful little prance in his steps, was to meet her gaze, see her face. was that max's voice he could hear? run, shoyo. his hooves felt frozen in place, so stiff and as icy as the pit of his stomach and the squeeze of his nerves running up his spine and to his temples.

but he can't. he can't. keep letting fear control him, as so many have warned. he wants to run away, and it's so damn easy to when they had no connection with each other keeping him bound here. what connected them was an accident, and that fine line was as brittle as they wanted it to be. he could run out of there, right now, and with the firmness of the earth under him? maybe he'd be able to outrun her this time. he'd jump the fence, and never set foot on the ranch again. at worst, he'll turn into water, seep into the soil and end up who knows where. anywhere but here.

but he can’t, or shouldn’t— do that, should he?

the foal doesn’t run, per se, but he does retreat with backward steps, pinned ears and a skittish little bolt to hide behind one of the mares, giving him enough cover to watch the demon from behind the bigger animal’s thigh. he’s not immediately panicking, which may be an improvement, but he’s still alarmingly aware of how fast his heart beats, and how his senses try to tell him there is danger near. he thinks he should speak for progression, but his throat is very, very tight around his voice. ]

F-from the woods. [ she asked when, not from where, but there’s so little difference to him right now. ] I thought it was— safer.

[ he doesn’t take his eyes off her for a second, whites and all. ]

[She swallows. There are a lot of things she could say here - should say, mayhap. Things like I need to know how long you've been here, how long I wasn't looking close enough to keep the herd safe. Things like I want you off my property, or even you can come in for coffee if you want it, you don't have to stay out with the horses.]

[But all of them are swamped out by the memory of how he'd shrieked, how his body had thrashed and gone still. How she'd told herself that there was no choice, and where there was no choice, hesitation was ever a sin. How little that mattered, when she looked down the barrel of her guilt.]

[He looks so young. So frightened. He's right to look frightened, and her stomach lurches. She raises her hands slowly, palms open, as if he's the one with the guns.]

It's safer. It's safe. I'm not going to hurt 'ee.

[And as soon at that last part's out, she realises what it is she's said, and she curses herself. That's the worst thing she could say in this moment, isn't it? The worst promise she could make, after what she did.]

[It's clear from the stricken look on her face that the realisation has hit her too late. She grimaces, accidentally showing more of her fangs, and hurriedly corrects herself:]

I mean... no, fuck, I don't mean that! I don't... I mean, I'm actually not going to hurt 'ee, I'll not lay a hand on 'ee, I swear, I...

Fuck.

I'm sorry, alright? Lo siento, me arrepiento de lo que hice, lo siento. It was...

I fucked ye over. I'm sorry.

[ it unnerves him in every way possible, pulls out a physical reaction from him as his ears press back and his hooves tremble. she didn't mean it. she didn't mean it. he tries to tell himself that and still, his heart races to a point that he feels like it'll explode in his chest. he feels danger. he feels like he needs to book it. he remembers the painful stab in his neck somewhere, where a pink scar now lays. he remembers how he screamed for her to stop until his world simply blacked out. his heart kept beating, but his essence was no more.

if he ran now, how big of a hypocrite would he be? how would none of this . . . solve? if you're too scared of something, think of someone you know. they'll give you strength. he wonders, now— is this what max felt? is this what she feels, when she sees him? does her stomach turn when she smells seaweed and fresh water, the same way he does when the acrid scent of ash sits in his nostrils?

and still she stayed put. she came to him. perhaps, even if he hadn't realized it, the time for him to go to her had come, too. if this had happened months back, surely, shoyo would've run. he would've spiraled into a panic that wouldn't give susan ear.

he's had time to think. he's had time to work out his own end, of where the demon stands now. how horrible it is, to do something you wouldn't otherwise do. basil understood him at his worst. why . . . couldn't he? ]

We were, [ his swallow is audible, thick, but there's sincerity to it. he's not dismissive, or talking out of his ass, ] in the wrong place. At the wrong time.

[ he personally didn't enjoy saying or thinking it's okay, it's fine, when it wasn't. he knows he didn't want to hear it when he spoke to max, or anyone else involved.

shoyo's first step toward facing an imaginable fear is stepping away from the mare that shields him. he doesn't come forth, but he doesn't shy away a third time. he respects her gestures, and he knows more than ever, that he wants to give her a chance. ]

I understand . . . That. I do.

sorry for the long wait, don't feel you have to respond unless you want to!

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oh absolutely time doesn’t exist 👀

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Hey, Susan,

I understand if you're pissed, and you don't want to talk to me. I get it.

I just... I wanted to tell you, I'm back. If you wanna talk, I am here.

if im pissed
if

i'm pissed

you fucking left me you son of a bitch

[Several minutes later:]

i thought ye weren't coming back

are ye alright?

You could also be enraged. That feels very valid right now.

Yeah, I did. It was stupid. It fixed things, but not for me or you.

I'm okay as I can be.

Are you okay?

i don't care that it worked. do ye ken just how unlikely it was to work???

ye can't kill yourself every time someone asks it of thee peter. ye can't. i won't let thee

and no i'm not fucking okay

[There are a million things that come to the surface, things he wants to say, apologies, maybe a few excuses. None of them feel right.]

You're right. We didn't even know if it would work. It was a gamble. I didn't think about it logically. I just... I'm so used to giving up all of myself, my life, my identity to fix things.

I can't keep doing this. Not when its... hurting everyone, hurting you.

I'm sorry.

I'm so sorry. I know that doesn't probably mean anything right now, fuck.

<carelesslove>

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<P.B.P> me reading your tag; GET HIS ASS SUSAN

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[Peter isn't unaware Susan wants space. He respects that. He isn't going to push.

He just wants her to have something.

In a plain box tied together in a bow, Susan will find a sturdy brown bomber jacket. Something handmade. The elbows are patched with a colorful patterned fabric similar to the patterns on her wings. Peter embroidered a few flowers blooming along the collar, at the cuffs of the sleeve and around the edges of the pockets. The inside is a soft fleecy fabric a light purple, something that will keep Susan warm and comfortable during the winter. There are also an array of pockets hidden in the lining.

Under the jacket is a carefully made off white blouse. The blouse is delicate looking but made to accommodate Susan's wings. The same delicate but brightly colored embroidery line the collar of the blouse, drifting along the sleeves to the cuffs.]

Happy Nattenfest, Susan

If these don't fit, tell me and I'll modify them for you.

-Peter

Edited 2024-01-23 00:45 (UTC)

[She was just going to leave his Nattensfest present at his door, but she hasn't delivered it yet when she gets his.]

[She does still want space. It feels horribly like the early days of her relationship with Roland, when she was trying to avoid him and he was starting to look for her. It feels like she's avoiding him for the same reason: because she's angry, yes, but mostly because she knows that if she stops being angry, she'll stop staying away, and loving him feels dangerous. She doesn't want to open herself up to grief again.]

[Unfortunately, it's hard to be angry when she unwraps his present, and when she sees all the effort he's put into it. She messages him a little while later.]

they fit perfect. did ye make them?

oh and i've a gift for ye too. it's not as special but i'll drop it off later.

[The response immediately makes Peter happy. A lot happier than he was earlier in the day. He debates with himself on how to reply, but opts for something casual.]

Yeah, I did. I'm really glad they fit. I guessed on the measurements a bit.

[Thankfully, he's a math nerd.]

I'm sure it's going to be special, I'm excited to see it :)

Thank you

thank me when ye get it.

i'll be there in a couple hours.

[Unspoken, but hopefully implied, is that it's up to him whether to be there when she visits. But she needs a little extra time to change into an outfit that will go with his gifts - to find a skirt that more or less matches the lining of the jacket, and pin her hair up, and generally make herself look put-together.]

[She also needs some extra time because, apparently, she's decided to ride rather than fly - when she arrives, she's on horseback, with one saddlebag visibly fuller than the other. She dismounts, leaving Ollie to crop contentedly at the frozen grass, and pulls a large box out of the saddlebag, wrapped in brown paper and green ribbon.]

[Peter for his part, knows he should probably give Susan space. It's only fair. She asked for it- Even then, he still pulls himself together to meet her. If she shoos him away, he'll leave. He ends up lingering near the front of Hill House, on and off waiting.

He can hear the arrival of Ollie easily enough. Peter hesitates at the door before he does step outside. Unsurprisingly, he brightens up when he sees Susan. His whiskers are wiggling and his ears flip forward.]

Wow, uh- hi, Susan. [Still as awkward as ever.]

WELCOME TO YOUR PRIVATE CHANNEL, SUSAN. FOR SECURE COMMUNICATION, USE 019.77.190.99 * carelesslove has joined 019.77.190.99 <carelesslove> is this working? <carelesslove> this is sue delgado's channel. talk to me if you want i guess? <carelesslove>** i'm probably in the stable or some such right now but i'll write when i get back

After the event late march <TheCoolestTurtle>

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<P.B.P> after AU event

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17/10 and forward, apocalypse

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After his return from the maw - <P.B.P>

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Nattenfest

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