redshiftlogs | open | the more you see the more you know

The door is open when he comes to call, and Angel is waiting for him - not hard to know he's coming when she can hear a heartbeat from a mile off. She's sitting at the table - and it isn't just her that lives here, that much is obvious. The three men that she shares with have their items left around as much as anyone else, weapons and clothes and domestic items scattered between, leftover dishes and the door container or two. A process where they cautiously took this space as their own.

Though she's prone to cluttering far more than either Charles or Connor and easily as much as Jacob, not on purpose, just through that broken, forgetful relationship with reality she suffers from.

Still, though, she smiles when Peter appears in the doorway, a big smile on her face. "Hello. You're the guy that was talking to me about wrestling, right?"

It's a simple dinner that they share, which is probably good, because the things Angel tells them over it, aren't simple. About space, low oxygen suits. Safety procedures for the suits to leave Anchor that she has learned and understood since childhood. The dangerous of chemicals they might not know and how to deal with them. How to treat chemical fires, how not to treat chemical fires. Things that in a port like this needed to be known now rather than later because -

This wasn't something she could protect them from like she did the Vault Hunters. She couldn't just live with her eyes in their minds, speaking to them, that special way sirens could project. But they needed to know. In so many ways, they outstripped her in simple abilities, but this is the one way she could be useful to them.

But when dinner is over - and she's stopped answering any questions they have, she goes and gets the - well, notes she has written. Extensively so. Predictably, it's colour coordinated, with tabs on the side and an index so they can find things at a glance - she knows how impatient Jacob got.

"I know you guys don't always feel comfortable with technology, so I made this up for you. Everything we talked about, just in case I am not around and you need to know what to do to identify if something is safe or not in a non-earth like planet. It's laminated - covered in plastic, I mean - so you can spill water on it, take it most places, and it won't get stained or ruined."

Placing it in the middle of the table, she in turns takes up a new spot in Connor's lap, predictably, but holding herself so he can look over her shoulder easily. Flicking open the binder, it's all there. More than there. She knows better than to heap a bunch of words they don't understand them, Connor and Charles would try with the best of their patience but this place was completely new to all of them. So everything is broken down with little pictures and drawings, so for any piece of equipment, they can find out what they need, hopefully, even if she's absent.

Peter doesn't mind clutter at all, he's a teenage boy who used to live in a tiny apartment in New York. Clutter kind of comes with the territory.

He taps gently on the door frame when he arrives, giving her a friendly smile right back, "Yep, that'd be me. Please tell me I told you my name the last time we talked, I've been so bad at introducing myself lately that it's ridiculous."

He's made it through entire conversations without introducing himself, it's kind of a problem with this dork.

Angel grinned, laughing briefly, so bright and sunny as she could be, was allowed to be now.

"You didn't, but I think... I think I've met you before. You're... Peter, right?"

She looks at him, watching him to try and place his face.

Oh my God she's like the happiest person ever, Peter is delighted by this. And he's pretty interested in what she says, too.

"I-- Yeah, that's me. Peter Parker. Now, was it me me you met before, or was it a taller, slightly less awkward me? There's this whole multi-verse thing, in the last place I was stuck I met another me."

Is it weird that this isn't even weird to him now?

It's still a lot to take in. But she's not wrong. Charles pours over the information with a steady resolve, and while his reading is slow he thinks he understands what she's put in front of him. Obviously the more dangerous things need to be put to memory first, things like 'radiation' and 'oyxgen' and 'might explode'.

As gifts went, the guns had certainly been flashier. His own still rests on his hip, even now. But information is just as vital, and it's how Angel shows she cares about them, so he's grateful. Even as his head feels like it might explode with all this new information he's trying to cram into it, frowning intently down at the pages in front of him.

She peers at him, and then takes a slow, quiet breath, eyes closing as her ears prick forward. Coming to attention as she listens to him. The way she could know people particularly, by heart beat and scent exactly.

Then she let's them drift open with the same smile. "Exactly you, I'm fairly sure. I tend not to forget people's scent and heart."

Jacob leans in close, sitting elbow to elbow with Charles and trying to focus on the masses of information Angel has told then and now sits on the shiny plastic-covered pages in front of them. The bits that really caught his attention were those at the start: explosions and chemical burns, the vacuum of space that could turn you inside out. But then his mind starts to wander, and when she really starts talking in detail, he's lost.

He tries not to be. He tries to pull himself back in. But there's food, and Charles at his side, and he's with his friends in a place that doesn't seem actively trying to kill them at this moment in time. None of this pertains to him right in this moment, and the future where it might? Seems a long way off.

Instead, he just leans a little closer into Charles, and looks at Angel, draped as she is over Connor. They look so happy together. They really deserve that, after everything they've both gone through.

"I don't see why you wouldn't be with us. Or be more than a call away."

I mean that's a little weird but she's also a monster lady so he's not going to question it.

"I'd definitely remember you if I'd met you before. Maybe there's just a universe out there where there's an exact copy of me or something." Which is freaky, kind of? But at least he wouldn't be the only short Spider-Man.

"Well, did uh, other me tell you anything about himself?"

That question is easier, as she shakes her head. "No, not much, mostly just helped me name a really murderous pet I ended up with."

It is in fact not entirely new to Ratonhnhaké:ton. The actual reality of it, being faced with it in person, is definitely new, but he spent a lot of time in the City reading up on research and science that was new to him for the purpose of working out the circumstances he'd found himself in. He can't exactly say he's gotten that much wiser about how any of this happens, about time travel and dimensions, but at least he's learnt plenty about space and physics.

Perhaps he can't fully comprehend everything that Angel is saying, but he can understand the do's and don't's.

He puts an arm around Angel when she settles in his lap, and leans in to nuzzle her temple before focusing on the binder she's holding. The pictures do help. Did she draw them herself? She's so good to them.

"Oh that's easy enough to happen. I did just spend three days getting drunk, being naked because I couldn't remember why I should wear clothes, let alone the correct temperature for oxegyn to freeze at. Then there are other things. There is no sound in space, because there is no air, so talking is impossible. Or a skag could eat out my tongue, or you could deaf temporarily from a loud enough explosions, or sharks could eat the wires that connect calls or - well. You get the idea."

A shrug, as she goes along, her tail flicking back and forth happily behind her, either because she enjoys the gory details, or she's being showered in affection, turning her head back to nuzzle Connor in turn.

Sighs, more happy than she as a right to be. Then carries on. "Speaking of, well, home. There is a guy here - from Pandora. He's one of those guys I was telling you about? A Vault Hunter. A proper one, but he's also an assassin. Which is about as much as I can tell you about him, honestly. If he even is a him. I don't know what species he is. But he talks in poetic count, exclusively, and like all other vault hunters, you can get him to do anything if you pay him."

"That sounds like every weekend." Jacob smirks at her, although in truth he's never had the pleasure of being naked and drunk for three days. It sounds like you'd wake up with the worst of hangovers.

But he doesn't ask- she doesn't seem to have come out any worse for wear, and maybe she doesn't even get hangovers in the way he does. Or any of them do. He doesn't know if Charles' abilities make him more impervious to the effects either.

As they cuddle, he rolls his eyes and leans a little more into Charles, to pay attention to the book rather than the two love birds opposite. Until she speaks up again.

"An assassin? Like Connor and me?" Or like the other sort, the sort that the establishment paints them as: paid killers.

It's the 'from Pandora' part that concerns him. Charles frowns faintly as he lowers the book into his lap, though it's more worry than displeasure. "Someone we need to worry about?" he murmurs in question, glancing towards the others.

She doesn't seem to consider this assassin poorly. But Angel often reacts to things that are dangerous or threatening in a fairly blasé manner. Better not to assume too much.

He also shifts an arm, sliding it around Jacob's side. The younger man seems to be trying to lean further and further into his side, and it's just easier this way.

"Yeah, that sounds like me. Weird." He's already helped with pet names here too, maybe weird pet names are just a universal constant for Peter Parkerses.

"What kind of pet? What'd you guys end up naming it?"

"It was the abomination from another dimension that wished to consume all that was in its path. Basically entirely a squishy blob of tentacles and hate with a giant eye that it shot lasers out of."

She rattles it off like normal, but given it was to her, with what she had already said about life as she knew it - it probably wasn't that much of a surprise given what she had told him already.

"But like, made really cute and small, when I got it. So we called it Murderball."

From what he's understood of Angel's tales, the Vault Hunters aren't the worst people on Pandora. She considered them her friends, didn't she? But perhaps not all of them.

Jacob's question does make him wonder, and he stays silent, thinking about it. What Angel said about the Vaults and the mystery surrounding them and the Sirens didn't sound too unlike the stories of Those Who Came Before. It isn't impossible that they're from the same reality, and Angel is from far into the future from their perspective. If she knows very little about this Vault Hunter, perhaps the Brotherhood is still around, and even more secretive than he remembers them.

She leans over to pick at some left overs on the plate, stabbing a bean with a claw to nibble on it. "I'm not sure about the Assassin stuff. You'll understand when you meet him, he's pretty... Well. Mysterious. I don't know if thats because of the stuff Connor said, or some other thing. I mean we talked about the fact Vaults seem to be kind of similar to the stuff you guys are supposed to be protecting? Which the - my - vault hunters were trying to stop megalomaniacs like Jack from getting it. Mostly for personal gain, sure, but we don't have governments or codes so that doesn't mean much."

And she reached for a drink - yet another tequila sunrise. Oops.

"You can trust him, so far as saying you know me. Don't get me wrong, mass murdering, steals anything not nailed down, would just stare at you if you asked him why it was wrong. But he was one of the closest things I had to friends before, and he... doesn't hate me for what I did to him. Enough he let me hug him when I saw him again. That's a hell of a lot, because I lied to him about literally everything the entire time I knew him, and got a lot of people around him killed and tortured."

"Sounds like some D&D stuff." Because of course he'd fucking take it to nerdyville.

"That is awesome though, and I kind of love it. I would have absolutely done the same thing. Like, I named my pet cat after a city that was destroyed by a nuclear reactor accident, because he glows in the dark."

Angel starts giggling, covering her mouth with both hands as they spill out, her shoulders shaking. "You'd do really well on Pandora for that. Bandits come up with really terrible names sometimes."

Jacob wonders. Mysterious is certainly what the Assassins are meant to be, to outsiders anyway. Working in the shadows to serve blah blah blah. But he certainly doesn't feel mysterious. Maybe Connor is able to pull that off better, but the Fryes certainly never succeeded in cutting themselves off from the world they were meant to be serving, from being apart from society in any way.

Maybe in the time Angel is from, it's different. Maybe they have become dark and mysterious again. Or maybe this guy just likes to seem that way. Who knows? But if Angel likes him, and trusts him, then he's probably alright.

And maybe he can tell them more about these Vault treasures left over from long ago. Could they be Artefacts? He's not really sure. Angel hasn't actually really said much about them to him, just gushed about the treasure hunters.

"There's no harm in meeting him," He says, happily resting his head on Charles' shoulder, now that there's an arm around him. He feels better, more grounded. And not quite so jealous of all the nuzzling going on between the other two. "I think in places like this, as many friends and allies you can gather around you the better. Especially the ones who know how to fight."

"See, one man's terrible name is another man's awesome name. I named my buddy's pet wolf Princess Thug. Kinda surprised he didn't change it, to be honest. But see, now you gotta hit me with some examples of these bandit names, I am so curious right now."

And probably about to be horrified, but it's fiiiine.

Edited 2020-02-13 18:59 (UTC)

"That was you?" She just keeps on giggling, leaning back a little as she tries to remember. "Let's see. Three-toes. Ripper. Boom Bewm. Chef Bork Bor. Junpai Goat Eater. Dinklebot. Smash-Head. Princess Taratenlla II. - Oh and the Wattle Gobbler! It was a giant bird. Hrm, Mad Mel, Hanz and Franz, ... There is also Mr. Shank."

"If you trust him, we do."

He's pretty certain that's the case, at least. None of them have any reason to doubt her, not when this is her world. Her people. If she says he's on their side and can be trusted, then that's enough for him.

He's no associate of Jack's. That's something, at least.

"You said he doesn't hate you for what you did. That he was dedicated to stopping Jack. Was he one of the Vault Hunters who..." There's hesitation there for a moment, but she should still know what he's getting at.

Was this man one of the ones who killed her, in her world?

"All me. I think he calls her P.T. for short, but in my heart she will always be Princess Thug."

Oh wow. Good lord those sure are some names. Wow bandits. "I think out of all of those, Smash-Head is my favorite. Very descriptive."

open | the more you see the more you know

( ᴘᴇᴛᴇʀ. )

( ᴄʜᴀʀʟᴇs, ᴊᴀᴄᴏʙ, ᴄᴏɴɴᴏʀ. )

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject