try to be living as your vice
and can you be my type?
Your sister? There was a sense of wistfulness in Peters silent voice, the very hint of jealousy. Having a sibling was a built in connection to someone, regardless of the actual closeness, though Sunjata seemed like he had been at least a little bit close with his sister, if she’d left with him. It was something he’d never had. Do you know why it was just you who came here? This probably (definitely) wasn’t the part he was supposed to get hung up on, but Peter couldn’t help the curiosity. Talking was beginning to come a little easier, something to focus on other than painful memories. Or rather, his own painful memories.
There were other, more relevant questions too. Is... is this Lusea the same? Or... different? Peter sent out a pulse of apology, feeling like he was being too blunt now, where before he had stepped carefully, and tried to explain his curiosity. Adam and I come from the same place, but not? Different times, I think? But he knows the cities I know. I just... is it like that? He didn’t know how else it made sense, someone dead coming back alive through a portal. It made his head spin a little bit to try and think about.
Something about the panthers calmness, the weight of understanding and sympathy in the apology made something in Peters chest crack. The hyenas head dipped down, nose beastly in the mud, and looked for all the world like he might throw up, but the only thing that came out was words, and a long, low whine. I thought for... well, he told me he would come back. When he could. And he didn’t. I... think he must have died. Or forgotten. I don’t know. I hope he died though. There was a flood of sudden sorrow, quiet panic, things Peter tried desperately to hold back, but couldn’t. He was too open like this, and had no idea how to stop the flow of emotions. In a different face, This would all be hidden with an uncanny blankness, his eyes distant, but with Sunjata in his mind he had to choice but to try and open up. Him dying would be better than being forgotten.
The other is right, about not being the same of things had been different, but this seems to be where another difference between them lies. Despite everything he’d gone through, the growth he’d done, more in last year than any other time, there was still very little about himself that Peter did like. If he could, he tried to avoid thinking of himself as a person completely, preferred to not think about it at all. He tried to send back some of the same humour, though it comes across as self depreciating, and he knows that isn’t what he wants but doesn’t know how to stop it. I think... I might like being different. He shakes his head then, gently at first more to move than anything, then again, roughly, like he’s trying to shake away the thoughts that put him in this position.
A deep sigh heaved out of Peter, and he flopped onto his side as well, more in resignation than anything else. Do you think what I do now make up for what I did before? Or... didn’t do before? Despite the defeat in his posture, there is a quiet hope in his eyes as they stare at the panther, mirrored by the glimmer of hope in their bond.
There were other, more relevant questions too. Is... is this Lusea the same? Or... different? Peter sent out a pulse of apology, feeling like he was being too blunt now, where before he had stepped carefully, and tried to explain his curiosity. Adam and I come from the same place, but not? Different times, I think? But he knows the cities I know. I just... is it like that? He didn’t know how else it made sense, someone dead coming back alive through a portal. It made his head spin a little bit to try and think about.
Something about the panthers calmness, the weight of understanding and sympathy in the apology made something in Peters chest crack. The hyenas head dipped down, nose beastly in the mud, and looked for all the world like he might throw up, but the only thing that came out was words, and a long, low whine. I thought for... well, he told me he would come back. When he could. And he didn’t. I... think he must have died. Or forgotten. I don’t know. I hope he died though. There was a flood of sudden sorrow, quiet panic, things Peter tried desperately to hold back, but couldn’t. He was too open like this, and had no idea how to stop the flow of emotions. In a different face, This would all be hidden with an uncanny blankness, his eyes distant, but with Sunjata in his mind he had to choice but to try and open up. Him dying would be better than being forgotten.
The other is right, about not being the same of things had been different, but this seems to be where another difference between them lies. Despite everything he’d gone through, the growth he’d done, more in last year than any other time, there was still very little about himself that Peter did like. If he could, he tried to avoid thinking of himself as a person completely, preferred to not think about it at all. He tried to send back some of the same humour, though it comes across as self depreciating, and he knows that isn’t what he wants but doesn’t know how to stop it. I think... I might like being different. He shakes his head then, gently at first more to move than anything, then again, roughly, like he’s trying to shake away the thoughts that put him in this position.
A deep sigh heaved out of Peter, and he flopped onto his side as well, more in resignation than anything else. Do you think what I do now make up for what I did before? Or... didn’t do before? Despite the defeat in his posture, there is a quiet hope in his eyes as they stare at the panther, mirrored by the glimmer of hope in their bond.
cause we need to be given a good life
and can I be your type of metal?
PETER
Base Code by Sky!
