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[shadowglitter]

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[shadowglitter]

[ wheezing. wheezing. wheezing even as he's pushed down the hallway to where he needs to do an ad campaign for the show. w he e ze ]

Hng? Hngng?

Oh.

Yeah.
I gotta.
Or I'll lose my money and probably never work in this industry again.
I don't want that. I like being filthy rich.

[quickfingers]

oh. shit. well.
we'll make this work extra hard then, ok

[shadowglitter]

Yeah.

I mean, it's not like I have to actually date anyone.
Just, pick one.

But I'm really fucking lonely, man.
I don't wanna feel alone like this. Anymore.

[quickfingers]

remember the whole talk we just went through of how you need to find someone who wants you for you, like you want them for them and not settling even tho - you might wanna, or whatever? remember that? i remember that. and it's still applicable here. okay? okay.

don't rush things. let ith appen or not happen
it will work out. got it? okay.
cool.

[shadowglitter]

I knooow. I just meant,

Like, I hope it works out.
It'll suck if it gets down to the wire and I just have to pick someone I don't care about because I'm panicking?
I want the good stuff. Big ol' good tasty love.
That's all. Hnengh.

[quickfingers]

repeat after me: it will all work out

[shadowglitter]

It'll all work out.






If you're there.
And if the volcano doesn't erupt.

[quickfingers]

ill be there

and lmao thats
is it
real?
fuck

[shadowglitter]

It is as real as it is active.

I'm hoping it'll erupt for the finale.

[quickfingers]

okay, that'd be sick
preferably w/o us dying but yeah
sick

[shadowglitter]

I mean.

We'll come back.
I did make everyone sign that waiver. About the death.

[quickfingers]

slightly morbid turn but:
isn't that still kinda weird?
like it's not something i can ask people who have died about
but to be able to die and then come back, man
i kinda wonder what thats like

but anyway
ahem
i should let you keep filming?
is it cool if i hang in your room when im off?

[shadowglitter]

I mean, they're probably not our actual bodies, right?
I imagine when we die here we die for good.
And then we're remade by the nanites as clones with all of our memories and thoughts in tact.
Right?
Science! Hahaha.

Yeah, of course.
Hang wherever you want.
If someone tries to give you shit for it, send them my way?

1/

[quickfingers]

oh my god dont say that thats freaky

[shadowglitter]

waht if

we're all

clOne


Alr eAdy

[quickfingers]

sT OP

/2

[quickfingers]

yeah, ok tho
ill chill in your room and like
hopefully we can hang out a bit

[shadowglitter]

Okay! DON'T FUCK IT UP

[ he's not sure what he's threatening peter to not fuck up, but the threat is established nevertheless.

he spends a few hours doing what he's supposed to do - wrap up interviews about the date(s) he's been on, different promo shots for commercials (he knows the value of a good angle, after looking at peter for so long lately, so he gets why they shoot him facing about ninety different directions even when all he's doing is staring forlornly out to sea) - and by early evening he's free for a little spare time. food won't be until later, so he can just pass out in his bedroom if he wants to.

unless peter is there, which he hopes he is. the sun is setting when odin heads back to his suite, and he fires off a message to see if his bro's there. ]

My room? My room? My room. Where are you?

[quickfingers]

can't. ill let u know if that changes

[His reply comes after a beat, but with a shit eating grin because he is in fact in Odin's room - legs crossed and his back against the headboard. He's traded today's business casual for baggy plaid pj pants and a stupid fucking shirt, licking out oreos like it's nobody's business.

Moodily, Rootbeer is lounging on a seat nearby, ready to tail wag when his bestie comes in.] Psyche.

[shadowglitter]

[ he'd made a note to himself to expect stupid fucking oreo eating bullshit if peter had found his way in here, but actually walking into a room and seeing his bro just going hog wild on them makes odin stumble a bit and lean against the door. just. just. just. fucking. stop it. for once.

still, there was a moment where he was fucking heartbroken at the idea that they wouldn't get to hang out. this is. fine. this is good.

he gathers himself and makes a beeline for rootbeer, pressing his face to hers, getting about a second of hey buddy!!! out before his face is all scrunched up while she kisses him. he laughs and cleans the dog kisses off his face and goes to greet lon'qu and lissa, who are both upside down waiting for belly rubs by the foot of the bed. their tails are too big and bang heavily against the floor as they wag.

he climbs into bed when he's done, still in that suit he changed into at peter's whim, tugging off his tie and relaxing. ]

Dick. [ kicks off his shoes. ] Man, I'm tired.

[quickfingers]

You loooove it, don't lie. [Peter says, mouth full of cookie as he shifts over a bit to let Odin slip into bed. For a moment everything is normal, including his crooked smile and how he ruffles Odin's hair with a hand while flopping on a fish to lay next to him. But then with a sidelong glance his eyes skim over Odin's suit, following the pull of his tie from his collar and hrghm. Hands, huh. Fuck.

He sits back up to cough on some cookie, a certain silver bracelet most definitely on his wrist.]

Your dogs are fuc- fucking cool. [Wheeze, he's fine. He gestures that he is, before laying back down and shoving the cookie package away. Peter'd been looking forward to hanging out too but the exhaustion is rather mutual, especially since he's been going on about six hours of sleep in three days. But he didn't really wanna ask Magnus for help and well, didn't feel like he could relax properly until he - funnily enough, got to relax in Odin's room.]

Me too. That suit's cool, by the way. [Even though he knows:] Didn't go with the other one?

[shadowglitter]

[ again, he bats at Peter like a cat with a toy, but he makes no move to smooth his hair back down after it has been well and truly porcupined. he's not watching Peter so much as just staring dead ahead above him, cursing himself for not making the ceilings a better place for bats to hang out on.

he doesn't even look down when peter chokes. whatever, idiot. learn to eat. ]

My dogs are the best. They're named after my sad, dead parents.

[ which peter knows. He slides up on the mattress to rests his back against the headboard, shutting his eyes. there's footsteps through the halls and chatter through the radio system, but the waves on the sand can be heard in the distance and they ground him. ]

Naw. Wrong colour, right? [ he heterosexually swings a blind, gentle punch at peter's shoulder. ] I wanted to wear something you'd like.

[quickfingers]

[Peter lolls his head back against the pillows, looking up at Odin from under gray bangs - blowing them out of his face to better see his idiot best friend. The heterosexual punch lands and he doesn't even flinch. He just feels like a sack of grain or something, happy to lay there feeling weighted down by his own body and finally able to rest peacefully.]

Well, that one's definitely better. [He yawns into the back of his hand.]

Everything gone good though? Shoots, dates, whatever? You fall in love yet?

[shadowglitter]

[ he chances a look back to Peter and catches him looking back up at him, and his heart skips a beat. he remembers, suddenly, something that Poe said - either you're blind to it or he is - and he scrubs away at his cheeks. puts it out of his mind, along with all the other baggage that conversation came with.

he brushes some hair back from peter's eyes, gets nervous about it, then flicks him on the forehead. ]

Actually, yeah. Starting to. Already got a winner in mind, if she'll have me.

[quickfingers]

Ow, fuck. [He lifts his hand to rub at his eye, smacking blindly back at Odin.]

But go on, tell your host about this newfound love of your life. [Considering the ratio of chicks to - dudes - around here is much smaller, he has a feeling he may know where this is going. Which is why it doesn't make him feel weird, which in turn... makes him feel weird. What the fuck, Peter. Just be chill, you stupid son of a bitch.]