Odin (Owain) | Fire Emblem (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
shadowglitter) wrote2017-09-04 05:02 pm
shadowglitter) wrote2017-09-04 05:02 pm
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INBOX
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I only drink Chocolate Milk. THE DARKEST OF MILKS!
art credit code credit
INBOX
text / audio / video / action
I only drink Chocolate Milk. THE DARKEST OF MILKS!
art credit code credit[First he just sends a picture of Kaytoo in Odin's outfit.]
i think you need to know exactly how much joy this has brought me
i'm going to make it my phone background
i think you need to know exactly how much joy this has brought me
i'm going to make it my phone background
HAHAHAHA, EVERYTHING I TOUCH TURNS TO GOLD!!! Including Kay's perfect, perfect hardbody.
Okay, wait, hold on.
[ odin goes quiet for a second - and then sends back a few quick photos of some initial Odinsquad uniform designs. they are... worse. so much spandex. is that a bikini? definitely some kind of jumpsuit with far too many holes cut into it to be legal. it's all a mess. ]
I went with the sleek and smooth Odin-inspired bodysuit because, you know. Iconic. But man.
Man.
I could've ruined that dude's reputation so much harder.
Okay, wait, hold on.
[ odin goes quiet for a second - and then sends back a few quick photos of some initial Odinsquad uniform designs. they are... worse. so much spandex. is that a bikini? definitely some kind of jumpsuit with far too many holes cut into it to be legal. it's all a mess. ]
I went with the sleek and smooth Odin-inspired bodysuit because, you know. Iconic. But man.
Man.
I could've ruined that dude's reputation so much harder.
[So they didn't exactly part on great terms because of a salty subject and Peter found himself swept away into hosting duties - which have a lot more direction than just being an aimless contestant in space, he's finding out. When they're not harping in his earpiece about what he's wearing or should be wearing, they're telling him where to stand or what information he should be bringing up in interviews or prodding at to get some juicy TV gossip.
That or some weird narrative ad recording for the show, after which he's boredly lounging in one of the rooms they've taken up with gear and devices to keep ImPort My Heart! running. He's not cleared to go yet, something about revisions for the narration but he's literally dying with nothing to do so he does what comes instinctively:
He opens the messages on his phone and flips to the ones with Odin.]
hey.
That or some weird narrative ad recording for the show, after which he's boredly lounging in one of the rooms they've taken up with gear and devices to keep ImPort My Heart! running. He's not cleared to go yet, something about revisions for the narration but he's literally dying with nothing to do so he does what comes instinctively:
He opens the messages on his phone and flips to the ones with Odin.]
hey.
[ his reply comes late - an hour later, maybe even more - but peter gets every passing detail on what causes the delay. the cast and crew drop odin's name like it belongs to a prop, tracking his movements and talking about him like he's a tool to be used for ratings, and every so often there'll be comments fed on the open channel in Peter's ear like alright, he's heading to the beach now and date's on schedule, things are going fine and close that shot on odin, the kid's acting dumb again.
the message in his phone remains clearly unread, but the second that flag is checked and odin's opened the message, he replies. there's an undeniable excitement in him, as he heads back from his date, seeking out peter. he thought they wouldn't talk for a while. ]
Hey!!!!!! Hahaha. Doofy. I love it.
Things going okay? Scored any big interviews yet?
the message in his phone remains clearly unread, but the second that flag is checked and odin's opened the message, he replies. there's an undeniable excitement in him, as he heads back from his date, seeking out peter. he thought they wouldn't talk for a while. ]
Hey!!!!!! Hahaha. Doofy. I love it.
Things going okay? Scored any big interviews yet?
Oh shit? Yeah, dude, that's totally fine.
I don't want anyone to feel obligated to be here. If something's going on, just take care of yourself, yeah?
You want me to put a hold on filming and come with?
I don't want anyone to feel obligated to be here. If something's going on, just take care of yourself, yeah?
You want me to put a hold on filming and come with?
yo, heard you're in fitting for wednesday
or are you busy rn?
or are you busy rn?
Literally when have I ever been too busy to talk to you?
[ he gets the sense that this is a Big Deal, because most of their conversations these days start specifically without a greeting. just diving in. ]
What do you need?
[ he gets the sense that this is a Big Deal, because most of their conversations these days start specifically without a greeting. just diving in. ]
What do you need?
[Peter's had a whole Deathmatch Superbattle to comment on while violently churning his thoughts over in his head over what happened between him and Odin prior to the event taking place. This cold dread settled in over him the second after he did it - not out of regret, but of a fear of how it's going to work out. Or not work out. He reappeared on the volcano looking a little vacant behind the eyes, refusing to glance Odin's way for the majority of the event. Nonetheless he put on his best smile, waving around a foam microphone and chewing gum like it's nobody's business. Fuck you Debra. You too, Janis.
Once a few contestants had been axed to the Shame Dungeon he excused himself to descend and interview them there, keeping up on commentary and steadily avoiding the consequences of his impulsive kiss. This gave root to a fear that maybe that's all it was, a jealous sort of brat move that ruins everything between them. A "choose me, not them" tactic that's based in selfish reasons over genuine feelings.
He's not even into dudes? Is he? How do you know?
What if he did all this and it doesn't work out because he's just a petty straight asshole who sabotaged his best friend and is going to be Reality TV's second most notorious heartbreaker? Fuck. He paces downstairs when not interviewing anyone and just sends out a text to Odin.]
we gotta talk later about what happened
tonite, not now. k?
[He doesn't expect much of a response in the heat of everything going on and that's - what he wants.]
Once a few contestants had been axed to the Shame Dungeon he excused himself to descend and interview them there, keeping up on commentary and steadily avoiding the consequences of his impulsive kiss. This gave root to a fear that maybe that's all it was, a jealous sort of brat move that ruins everything between them. A "choose me, not them" tactic that's based in selfish reasons over genuine feelings.
He's not even into dudes? Is he? How do you know?
What if he did all this and it doesn't work out because he's just a petty straight asshole who sabotaged his best friend and is going to be Reality TV's second most notorious heartbreaker? Fuck. He paces downstairs when not interviewing anyone and just sends out a text to Odin.]
we gotta talk later about what happened
tonite, not now. k?
[He doesn't expect much of a response in the heat of everything going on and that's - what he wants.]
[ A month from now, Odin will rewatch the Deathmatch Superbattle episode, red-faced and nervous, ashamed of how fucking obvious he acted. He's constantly tearing his eyes from the obstacle course, trying to catch Peter's eyes when he passes, always failing and slumping his shoulders, disheartened. People notice, but he doesn't notice that they notice - he's too busy following after Peter's back as he shouts the name of someone who falls into the lava, of someone shocked too sharply by Thor.
Odin doesn't know how to deal with it when Peter leaves, throwing himself into speeches and magic, conjuring more and more storms to vent his tension until he gets that message. Peter isn't there to see the way he just fucking lights up when he hears the custom message notification Peter has on his phone, and though he might not expect much of a response, one comes before he even has the time to put his comm away. ]
Ye .s
[ Fuck, he typed that too fast, eager as he was to answer it. With trembling fingers, he tries again, heart in his throat. ]
Yes. Yes.
Tonight? My room? Tunnel of my room? One of them. No cameras. Downstairs? Under the volcano? No cameras. Either.
Cameras.
Odin doesn't know how to deal with it when Peter leaves, throwing himself into speeches and magic, conjuring more and more storms to vent his tension until he gets that message. Peter isn't there to see the way he just fucking lights up when he hears the custom message notification Peter has on his phone, and though he might not expect much of a response, one comes before he even has the time to put his comm away. ]
Ye .s
[ Fuck, he typed that too fast, eager as he was to answer it. With trembling fingers, he tries again, heart in his throat. ]
Yes. Yes.
Tonight? My room? Tunnel of my room? One of them. No cameras. Downstairs? Under the volcano? No cameras. Either.
Cameras.
Action; backdated to the 3rd week, before the Space Mission
andtherevolution
2018-02-26 07:47 am (UTC)(link)
[ODIN DARK, PREPARE YOURSELF! For one of your assistants to knock politely at your door, with some coffee.... and a favor to ask!]
[It's very late. Poe is, well, very drunk. And it's been a week since Kay told him about Odin and Peter and a week since Finn disappeared and he's tired of waiting around for Odin to actually tell him what the hell is going on, even if he doesn't really feel like he can ask that question.
But, with far too much liquour and a very unhealthy dose of nihilism, he doesn't really care about continuing to be polite.
He said he'd keep his mouth shut for a week. It'd been a week.
He just had to find a way to approach this dimplomatically.]
so
when were you going to tell me that peter pulled his head out of his ass
[... Nailed it.]
But, with far too much liquour and a very unhealthy dose of nihilism, he doesn't really care about continuing to be polite.
He said he'd keep his mouth shut for a week. It'd been a week.
He just had to find a way to approach this dimplomatically.]
so
when were you going to tell me that peter pulled his head out of his ass
[... Nailed it.]
[ 4AM means he and Peter have pulled over for the night and retreated to the back of the car, spreading out on the makeshift bed they've set up in Peter's station wagon for the trip. They've been on the road for a day, which means they're pretty far out of Maurtia by now - when Poe hits him with so he panics, because he thinks that maybe something bad has gone down and he won't be able to get back to the porter in time to help, but the second message comes and he's not sure if this is better or worse than alien drones blowing everything the fuck up.
It's a splash of cold water, at least.
Okay. Okay, okay. Fuck. He sits up, resting his back on the row of seats behind him, Peter lazing next to him. He rubs at his eye and tries to think of a decent response, but hey! He doesn't come up with one. ]
Peter's always got his head in his ass.
That's his whole thing.
Peter "head in his ass" Maximoff, they call him.
I don't know who "they" are in this scenario. Me? You? Us? The committee of people who judge the headed-assness of people as a whole? Who, uh.
Who knows.
It's a splash of cold water, at least.
Okay. Okay, okay. Fuck. He sits up, resting his back on the row of seats behind him, Peter lazing next to him. He rubs at his eye and tries to think of a decent response, but hey! He doesn't come up with one. ]
Peter's always got his head in his ass.
That's his whole thing.
Peter "head in his ass" Maximoff, they call him.
I don't know who "they" are in this scenario. Me? You? Us? The committee of people who judge the headed-assness of people as a whole? Who, uh.
Who knows.
[so whenever owain gets home from his cross country fucktrip, there will be a package amongst the rest of the mail waiting for him. there's a couple claw marks on it, and it's probably pretty obvious crobat didn't manage to shove it into the Mail Place too easily. there also... might be signs of a frustrated air cutter on the closest piece of wood.
...anyway. like before, there's a note along with the tape, along with a special bottle of skin care and a baggie of weed, because archie is a terrible man.]
hey owain
i think i said this on the last one, but i hope this isn't weird? well, anyway, i'm gonna keep making these even if you don't like them, cause i have fun doing it. fight me? unless it is actually something that makes you uncomfortable then i'll stop. an easy battle to win, honestly. i'm letting crobat drop this off cause i got a shitload of stuff to do with work. i hope you like it. i was in kind of a weird place when i made it so i'm not sure how good it is.
thanks for coming over to talk a couple weeks ago. i know i was a surly bastard but talking to you made me feel better about a lot of things. i know we're still in kind of a weird place but i still love you a lot.
archie
ps: me and lucina have claimed a shack in the woods. can you enchant it to be invisible or shoot ice or something? something cool.
...anyway. like before, there's a note along with the tape, along with a special bottle of skin care and a baggie of weed, because archie is a terrible man.]
hey owain
i think i said this on the last one, but i hope this isn't weird? well, anyway, i'm gonna keep making these even if you don't like them, cause i have fun doing it. fight me? unless it is actually something that makes you uncomfortable then i'll stop. an easy battle to win, honestly. i'm letting crobat drop this off cause i got a shitload of stuff to do with work. i hope you like it. i was in kind of a weird place when i made it so i'm not sure how good it is.
thanks for coming over to talk a couple weeks ago. i know i was a surly bastard but talking to you made me feel better about a lot of things. i know we're still in kind of a weird place but i still love you a lot.
archie
ps: me and lucina have claimed a shack in the woods. can you enchant it to be invisible or shoot ice or something? something cool.
Edited 2018-03-13 14:50 (UTC)
text - at what date is the roadtrip ov er ??? science says whomst knows
shadowglitter
2018-03-14 07:45 pm (UTC)(link)
Yeah, of course. I can drop by.
I don't want stuff to be weird. Part of fixing that is spending time with you. If you're okay with... spending... time... with me.
Which you are. I guess. If you're. Talking. To me.
And inviting me over.
And.
Etcetera?
I'm sorry, though. Fuck.
Poe's dealing with the same thing. If you want somebody to talk to who might understand.
Do you want me to like, bring anything over? I've got souvenirs from my trip. And the island. If you want them.
I don't want stuff to be weird. Part of fixing that is spending time with you. If you're okay with... spending... time... with me.
Which you are. I guess. If you're. Talking. To me.
And inviting me over.
And.
Etcetera?
I'm sorry, though. Fuck.
Poe's dealing with the same thing. If you want somebody to talk to who might understand.
Do you want me to like, bring anything over? I've got souvenirs from my trip. And the island. If you want them.
[They haven't spoken in some time, mainly because Maxwell hasn't wanted to interrupt Odin's show and it's supposed romantic aftermath. But for this, he thinks, a quick message, just to be safe, should be alright.]
Just want to let you know that I have returned, in case there was any concern. I am a little tired, but otherwise unharmed. No reason to worry.
Just want to let you know that I have returned, in case there was any concern. I am a little tired, but otherwise unharmed. No reason to worry.
[ ah, yes. the supposed romantic aftermath. truly, the realest part of his very real relationship with the contestant he chose as the winner to his show, a person who is definitely dating him for real and isn't just being used as a dramatic cover for odin to have a second, secret life. what a time we live in. ]
Nice!!!!!!! I knew you'd be back!! I was scared, man. Too many people have been porting out lately.
Tired is okay. Get yourself a nap, son.
Anything you need me to bring over? Like, your favourite food or something.
Nice!!!!!!! I knew you'd be back!! I was scared, man. Too many people have been porting out lately.
Tired is okay. Get yourself a nap, son.
Anything you need me to bring over? Like, your favourite food or something.
[ this is - out of the blue, and not exactly the kind of message he'd expect to get from eli, of all people. he hits back right away, but he's nervous. ]
What's up? You hurt or in trouble or anything?
What's up? You hurt or in trouble or anything?
[The day started out differently for a change and for that, Peter was a bit glad. But it was weird to wake up without Odin at his side, no excuse on his comm as to why - and his brow furrows as he sits up that morning to digest the loss. But the time loop is over, finally, and that's enough to distract him at first, triple checking it's not the 19th when it in fact is... the 27th? Christ.
He can't hold off for long:] Hey, where you at?
He can't hold off for long:] Hey, where you at?
[He wakes up, still upset, and doesn't even bother going for his comm before he sends the text over the neural link to the network.]
owain you better be there
if you somehow magic'd yourself to disappear after
after that
i'm never speaking to you again
owain you better be there
if you somehow magic'd yourself to disappear after
after that
i'm never speaking to you again
i get it, okay? i got the fucking memo
i'm not going to put you through that again and i'm sorry just
stop it
let me know you're okay
i'm not going to put you through that again and i'm sorry just
stop it
let me know you're okay
don't ever ask me to hold back information from peter again
if this keeps going and you don't come back
i'm not going to be able to lie to him forever
it's been less than a week and yet this place is just going on like nothing happened
it's both kind of incredible and infuriating, how this world just sort of continues on regardless of what happens
i really fucked things up
not just this week and not just generally but
with you, specifically
i didn't
get it
but i am pretty damn sure i get it now
i don't think i could watch that, again
you should be back, by now. it's been three days. past it. that's how long the rez cycle is supposed to work.
but i guess i sort of knew it wasn't going to work like normal, when your body disappeared. at least i know you're back home and not - actually dead. though from what you said before, who knows how long that lasts. i hope you were wrong, about your chances.
not totally sure what i will do, if you don't come back
look just
you made your point
so you never have to make that point again, okay?
it's fighting to live, from here on out, and if one of us has to die then we can damn well go out together because i'm not letting you do that again
not alone
not for anything
so just
fucking
come back, okay
it's both kind of incredible and infuriating, how this world just sort of continues on regardless of what happens
i really fucked things up
not just this week and not just generally but
with you, specifically
i didn't
get it
but i am pretty damn sure i get it now
i don't think i could watch that, again
you should be back, by now. it's been three days. past it. that's how long the rez cycle is supposed to work.
but i guess i sort of knew it wasn't going to work like normal, when your body disappeared. at least i know you're back home and not - actually dead. though from what you said before, who knows how long that lasts. i hope you were wrong, about your chances.
look just
you made your point
so you never have to make that point again, okay?
it's fighting to live, from here on out, and if one of us has to die then we can damn well go out together because i'm not letting you do that again
not alone
not for anything
so just
fucking
come back, okay
[He writes four or five versions of this text, none of them come off right, and he gives up. Sends the simplest one.
Owain will understand.]
cassian's back
doesn't remember earth
Owain will understand.]
cassian's back
doesn't remember earth
[ Ah... man. Owain understands, of course he does, but there's a brief lurch to his gut when he reads the message. He wonders if Poe's thinking something like it should've been him who remembered, not you.
He recognizes that thought for what it is, though; an insecurity based on self-loathing, rather than anything based even fractionally within reality, 'cause shit, Poe loves him, he knows that. Poe loves him and he needs him right now. Owain's more than willing to be the shoulder he cries on, if that's what this is. ]
You doing okay?
Or - I guess I mean -
How are you handling things?
He recognizes that thought for what it is, though; an insecurity based on self-loathing, rather than anything based even fractionally within reality, 'cause shit, Poe loves him, he knows that. Poe loves him and he needs him right now. Owain's more than willing to be the shoulder he cries on, if that's what this is. ]
You doing okay?
Or - I guess I mean -
How are you handling things?
What's up, buttercup?
[ ugh he hates buttercup too. this... unending quest for a petname. ]
[ ugh he hates buttercup too. this... unending quest for a petname. ]
[she should be over this Kaneki thing by now. and, for a few days, she is! honest! but... but it really dug at things packed away in her heart, unpleasant what-ifs and speculations she tries to keep far, far away, as they do no one any good -- least of all herself.
it'd helped to have Archie hear just an inkling of it -- more than either of them probably realize, because while Lucina's grateful for his support...]
...
[it's late, but there's still light peeking out from behind Odin's door. Lucina lingers there, wrestling with the want to just barge in and spend the evening getting invested in whatever's got her cousin up so late as a distraction versus the aggravating, scratching unpleasantness that's got its hooks on her. every time she's paced around and tried settling in to sleep, it returns. kaneki's words... dying, but not wanting to be a bother...
ugh.]
Owain? [she raps her knuckles on the door before gently pushing it open, peeking in.] You're still up...?
it'd helped to have Archie hear just an inkling of it -- more than either of them probably realize, because while Lucina's grateful for his support...]
...
[it's late, but there's still light peeking out from behind Odin's door. Lucina lingers there, wrestling with the want to just barge in and spend the evening getting invested in whatever's got her cousin up so late as a distraction versus the aggravating, scratching unpleasantness that's got its hooks on her. every time she's paced around and tried settling in to sleep, it returns. kaneki's words... dying, but not wanting to be a bother...
ugh.]
Owain? [she raps her knuckles on the door before gently pushing it open, peeking in.] You're still up...?
Edited 2018-06-03 01:33 (UTC)
[ These days, Owain is usually only up at this hour of the night if he's been thinking too hard of home, and maybe it would grease the wheels of their coming conversation if that's what was racing through his mind right now - but rather than be plagued by memories of a war-riddled Ylisse or the one-two blow of losing his parents, Owain's just. Playing with the dogs. Like the fool boy he is.
Lucina opens the door and Owain lights up as he always does when he sees her, Lissa and Lon'qu wagging their giant, stupid tails and scrambling off of their backs to come and say hello. He's been kneeling on the floor of his bedroom and he makes room on purple pillows stolen from the half-complete blanket fort he'd been making for a while before lazily giving up on, ushering her over and patting the ground in front of him. ]
C'mere. You okay? The sun should be up soon, assuming I can break away from demanding canine time-hogs and cast my morning spell to pierce the barrier of night and day. It's rare to see you up so late.
Lucina opens the door and Owain lights up as he always does when he sees her, Lissa and Lon'qu wagging their giant, stupid tails and scrambling off of their backs to come and say hello. He's been kneeling on the floor of his bedroom and he makes room on purple pillows stolen from the half-complete blanket fort he'd been making for a while before lazily giving up on, ushering her over and patting the ground in front of him. ]
C'mere. You okay? The sun should be up soon, assuming I can break away from demanding canine time-hogs and cast my morning spell to pierce the barrier of night and day. It's rare to see you up so late.
will i ever not be six years late, science has no answers
shadowglitter
- 2018-07-09 20:58 (UTC) - ExpandyOU DOnT nEED An EXcfuSe tO buY Me ThiNGs. THE VORTEX OF TRAGEDY THAT BEATS WITHIN MY ACHING RIBS IS ONLY EVER QUELLED BY THE SOOTHING LULL OF FREE PRESENTS. What the fuck! I want this so bad?
I wish to make love to this confectionery behemoth.
But I guess it's my birthday next month? I'm torn between talking up a grand ball I'll throw for myself to honour the most magnificent day the world has ever bore witness to and just, like, not telling anybody that it's my birthday so that they don't... do anything.
So I guess - until I decide which path I'm taking - you're sworn to secrecy? Shh shh shh.
I wish to make love to this confectionery behemoth.
But I guess it's my birthday next month? I'm torn between talking up a grand ball I'll throw for myself to honour the most magnificent day the world has ever bore witness to and just, like, not telling anybody that it's my birthday so that they don't... do anything.
So I guess - until I decide which path I'm taking - you're sworn to secrecy? Shh shh shh.
Oh - oh yeah? Like that, c'mon. Fuck, yeah.
[The scene is set one late night, where the moon's full and bleeding in through dirt fogged panes of glass to light up crooked floorboards in the near silent loft of their apartment. One window is cracked open to let in the night breeze, a warm summer gust over sweat slick skin. Beads of perspiration collect on his brow but he's determined, focused - lips apart, mouth wide and open.
Laying back against the sofa, Peter's half naked with one leg bent and the other stretched out across the cushions. His toes curl briefly before relaxing, gut tensing as Odin shifts closer. He reaches upward, gripping his wrist and guiding the hefty girth of what's in his hand toward his wanting lips. His hold is firm but desiring, tongue outstretched for a tasting lick.]
Give me it. C'mon. Please?
[Peter squirms in anticipation, waiting for Odin to give in and drop his hand to let him seal his lips tightly around the end of... that burrito. That chunky, five layer jalapeno burrito. Peter's brows knit together tightly when the first bite slides into his mouth and he chows down on it, Odin sitting on the edge of the couch and hand feeding him out of sheer laziness. It's four am and they're wide awake after a Taco Bell run - it's too fucking hot to sleep with the AC on the fritz. Clearly eating the spiciest food around helps mitigate that? Not at all.
Nobody ever claimed they were smart.]
[The scene is set one late night, where the moon's full and bleeding in through dirt fogged panes of glass to light up crooked floorboards in the near silent loft of their apartment. One window is cracked open to let in the night breeze, a warm summer gust over sweat slick skin. Beads of perspiration collect on his brow but he's determined, focused - lips apart, mouth wide and open.
Laying back against the sofa, Peter's half naked with one leg bent and the other stretched out across the cushions. His toes curl briefly before relaxing, gut tensing as Odin shifts closer. He reaches upward, gripping his wrist and guiding the hefty girth of what's in his hand toward his wanting lips. His hold is firm but desiring, tongue outstretched for a tasting lick.]
Give me it. C'mon. Please?
[Peter squirms in anticipation, waiting for Odin to give in and drop his hand to let him seal his lips tightly around the end of... that burrito. That chunky, five layer jalapeno burrito. Peter's brows knit together tightly when the first bite slides into his mouth and he chows down on it, Odin sitting on the edge of the couch and hand feeding him out of sheer laziness. It's four am and they're wide awake after a Taco Bell run - it's too fucking hot to sleep with the AC on the fritz. Clearly eating the spiciest food around helps mitigate that? Not at all.
Nobody ever claimed they were smart.]
[For most of today, it'd been an ordinary day for the two of them. Odin's birthday was tomorrow and there was a palpable sense of excitement preceding it, with Peter's cocky smile giving away a few hints that he had something planned. And he did. Oh boy, did he ever. But all he would tell Odin was that 'it'd be great' and that they'd start the day off by getting brunch, so they should go to bed early. Only they ended up lounging around watching gory dinosaur movies all evening before midnight was quickly approaching.
He's brushing his teeth and standing in the doorway to the bedroom in boxers and one of Odin's t-shirts, when Peter decides to flicker the lights on and off rapidly. No real reason other than to snag Odin's attention, and in the blink of an eye he's lost his toothbrush so he's not talking around the handle of it. Plus he spit, rinsed and flossed just to be a beacon of good dental hygiene.]
Knock knock. This is the lead in to a joke type of knock knock, for the record.
He's brushing his teeth and standing in the doorway to the bedroom in boxers and one of Odin's t-shirts, when Peter decides to flicker the lights on and off rapidly. No real reason other than to snag Odin's attention, and in the blink of an eye he's lost his toothbrush so he's not talking around the handle of it. Plus he spit, rinsed and flossed just to be a beacon of good dental hygiene.]
Knock knock. This is the lead in to a joke type of knock knock, for the record.
[ Birthdays had always been a bit of a sour subject for him back home. Before Ylisse fell, they were great, and once he'd travelled back in time, even better - but those few dark years where his birthdays were spent huddled under someone else's arm away from all the cold and all the dead? Those had been sad affairs, always so laced with guilt, an anniversary he dreaded. He was still a kid, and he so often thought about how his birthday should have been better than what he was made to suffer through. Couldn't understand why life had to suck on what should have been such a good day.
But life doesn't suck anymore! Singlehandedly because of Peter, in a lot of ways. There's nothing for him to be sour about, no sad memories that still weigh heavily enough to dwell on, just the excitement of a day dedicated just for him brewing between them. Today had started off with a lot of nervous "you really don't have to do anything"s and "i'd be happy just to spend time with you and my friends, honestly"s, but that was before cocky smiles and smug know-it-all-ing chipped down his resistance. Odin's been swinging wildly between whining loudly while begging for hits and slumping over things being depressed when he doesn't get them, and he's in one of those valleys now, miserably kicking his feet against the mattress.
Peter flickers the lights and Odin looks up, having had his face buried in the sheets. He blearily narrows his eyes and waits for the lights to stop flashing, and then uses his magic to make them flash even faster. Half-heartedly vogues with one hand. Rave party, or whatever. Still pissy. Still wants to know about tomorrow. ]
Who's [ vogue vogue vogue ] there? [ vogue vogue vogue vogue ]
But life doesn't suck anymore! Singlehandedly because of Peter, in a lot of ways. There's nothing for him to be sour about, no sad memories that still weigh heavily enough to dwell on, just the excitement of a day dedicated just for him brewing between them. Today had started off with a lot of nervous "you really don't have to do anything"s and "i'd be happy just to spend time with you and my friends, honestly"s, but that was before cocky smiles and smug know-it-all-ing chipped down his resistance. Odin's been swinging wildly between whining loudly while begging for hits and slumping over things being depressed when he doesn't get them, and he's in one of those valleys now, miserably kicking his feet against the mattress.
Peter flickers the lights and Odin looks up, having had his face buried in the sheets. He blearily narrows his eyes and waits for the lights to stop flashing, and then uses his magic to make them flash even faster. Half-heartedly vogues with one hand. Rave party, or whatever. Still pissy. Still wants to know about tomorrow. ]
Who's [ vogue vogue vogue ] there? [ vogue vogue vogue vogue ]
[ he's fucking exhausted, having wandered from person he loves to person he loves trying to save their asses from what's going on - archie's on the list to check in on, of course he is, but there's so much hectic shit going on, owain's taken a little while to cross his name off the list. he's sort of glad archie beat him to the punch because it makes him feel less overextended ]
Yeah. Yes. Exhausted.
Are you okay? I'm coming to see you soon - I just haven't been able to get away. Everyone's being fucking stupid.
Are you being stupid? Don't be being stupid.
Yeah. Yes. Exhausted.
Are you okay? I'm coming to see you soon - I just haven't been able to get away. Everyone's being fucking stupid.
Are you being stupid? Don't be being stupid.
hey
I wanna run mt fingers through your hair
i wanna be with you
i miss you
i'm bored
I wanna run mt fingers through your hair
i wanna be with you
i miss you
i'm bored
[ he scans every part of this message for a secret link to a picture of a meme and when he realizes there isn't one and that peter just loves him he's filled with delayed joy. emotion. love for the one he loves. is this a reference? a meme? too late, his hearts full ]
mt fingers
mountain made of fingers
I'm bored toooooooooooooooooouaaaaaaouaouaouggggggggggghhhhhhhhh
mt fingers
mountain made of fingers
I'm bored toooooooooooooooooouaaaaaaouaouaouggggggggggghhhhhhhhh
[When Peter's worn himself down to sleep soundly, sleep soundly he does. After the extensive partying on the fifteenth and a little bit of drunken clean up after midnight, he passed out for a good chunk of the following morning and slept like a rock. A rock that is now stirring, face down in the bedding and groaning from the lightest headache that still lingers in his skull - distracting him when he blinks open his eyes and lifts up his head to a blurred room.
In time he would've noticed the sheer amount of natural light blinding him from one wall meant this is not and could not possibly be the bedroom he holes away in in his mother's basement; but what clues him in instead is the tangle of limbs. His first thought is to whisper 'Wanda, get out' before he realizes the back he's pawing at is not that of a sleep-walking, telepathic sister. It's a dude. It's a dude? It's a dude.]
Wh - Wh!
[He almost flips backward in his haste to get away, sliding off the edge of the bed with a shout and a hard pull on the thin cotton sheet that is the only thing hiding any of their modesty. He lands on the floor, wide eyed and crawling backwards before he notices said lack of modesty - lack of clothes and shouts louder as he tries to cover himself with something because she sheet's tangled around his ankles.
Luckily for him, Rootbeer waltzes in and a seventeen year old Peter Maximoff is not above grabbing a dog as using her to hide his dick as he stands up; a furry bouquet held in front of him while panic still screeches through his head like a breaking record. This isn't his house. This isn't his house. Who is this? Whose dog is this?
He looks down at her:] S-Stop trying to lick my arm, dog. It's weird right now.
In time he would've noticed the sheer amount of natural light blinding him from one wall meant this is not and could not possibly be the bedroom he holes away in in his mother's basement; but what clues him in instead is the tangle of limbs. His first thought is to whisper 'Wanda, get out' before he realizes the back he's pawing at is not that of a sleep-walking, telepathic sister. It's a dude. It's a dude? It's a dude.]
Wh - Wh!
[He almost flips backward in his haste to get away, sliding off the edge of the bed with a shout and a hard pull on the thin cotton sheet that is the only thing hiding any of their modesty. He lands on the floor, wide eyed and crawling backwards before he notices said lack of modesty - lack of clothes and shouts louder as he tries to cover himself with something because she sheet's tangled around his ankles.
Luckily for him, Rootbeer waltzes in and a seventeen year old Peter Maximoff is not above grabbing a dog as using her to hide his dick as he stands up; a furry bouquet held in front of him while panic still screeches through his head like a breaking record. This isn't his house. This isn't his house. Who is this? Whose dog is this?
He looks down at her:] S-Stop trying to lick my arm, dog. It's weird right now.
[ It's been a long, long time since Owain has woken up to a morning like this one. There are birds - he can hear them just outside the window as he blearily hovers in and out of consciousness, the soft rustling of wings and all those gentle whistles easing him out of sleep. He can't smell smoke, he can't smell death, it's all just - quiet. Warm. He thinks he must be dreaming, made all the more sure of this by the warm body at his back, the sounds of cars and traffic lights and sirens so unfamiliar to the world he came from.
Whoever's behind him is nudging at his shoulderblades enough to stir him awake - he fights it as best as he can, but soon the sheets are being pulled off of him and he's waking up stark naked and dizzy, clinging to his mattress and groaning like one of the Risen. He sits up and blearily lets himself adjust to the world around him, breath caught in his throat, and finds himself eye-level with--
Wow, what a well-placed dog. ]
Wha... what? What are...
[ His eyes drift up and he sees Peter looking down at him, tall and silver-haired and rocking a fucking amazing aesthetic. Owain doesn't really know what to do, at first, other than stare - but he does what he always does when confronted by someone strong and scary who apparently hid away in his bedroom overnight. He panics. ]
In-intruder?! [ Bolting to his feet, Owain stumbles backwards and reaches for his belt, grabbing at his sword and panicking when it isn't there. Even when he sleeps naked, he usually keeps at least a dagger holstered on his thigh - being this bare is terrifying, and Owain blindly slaps his hand in the air behind him until he finds something he can wield on the bedside table beside him. It's shaped like a big, pink dick and it buzzes when he presses the button, which, of course, he absolutely 100% presses. He brandishes the wild, vibrating cock at the stranger in his bed with reckless abandon, eyes wide and hand shaking. ]
The-- this-- foul beast! To try and slay he of insurmountable anguish, Owain Dark, at the deepest depths of his most vulnerable, sleepy depthy sleep-depths-- death comes for he who calls, and with this... s-sword, I-- I'll ring that bell! For you! I'll ring your bell! To call death!
[ wait ]
Wait?
[ wait ]
Wait.
[ Owain waggles the dildo. ]
... Wait, I can do better than that. I just woke up, I'm not-- fuck, okay, hold on. Give me a second?
Whoever's behind him is nudging at his shoulderblades enough to stir him awake - he fights it as best as he can, but soon the sheets are being pulled off of him and he's waking up stark naked and dizzy, clinging to his mattress and groaning like one of the Risen. He sits up and blearily lets himself adjust to the world around him, breath caught in his throat, and finds himself eye-level with--
Wow, what a well-placed dog. ]
Wha... what? What are...
[ His eyes drift up and he sees Peter looking down at him, tall and silver-haired and rocking a fucking amazing aesthetic. Owain doesn't really know what to do, at first, other than stare - but he does what he always does when confronted by someone strong and scary who apparently hid away in his bedroom overnight. He panics. ]
In-intruder?! [ Bolting to his feet, Owain stumbles backwards and reaches for his belt, grabbing at his sword and panicking when it isn't there. Even when he sleeps naked, he usually keeps at least a dagger holstered on his thigh - being this bare is terrifying, and Owain blindly slaps his hand in the air behind him until he finds something he can wield on the bedside table beside him. It's shaped like a big, pink dick and it buzzes when he presses the button, which, of course, he absolutely 100% presses. He brandishes the wild, vibrating cock at the stranger in his bed with reckless abandon, eyes wide and hand shaking. ]
The-- this-- foul beast! To try and slay he of insurmountable anguish, Owain Dark, at the deepest depths of his most vulnerable, sleepy depthy sleep-depths-- death comes for he who calls, and with this... s-sword, I-- I'll ring that bell! For you! I'll ring your bell! To call death!
[ wait ]
Wait?
[ wait ]
Wait.
[ Owain waggles the dildo. ]
... Wait, I can do better than that. I just woke up, I'm not-- fuck, okay, hold on. Give me a second?
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