strangetrip | [GP/EP] Check-in Day

Entry tags:

[GP/EP] Check-in Day

It was a musical day at the Madonna Inn, both inside and out. Curnen had taken her usual place up on the roof and was singing charms to the sky to keep any wanderers from getting lost (though that part of it was not immediately obvious). Unrelated to that, Sunny was on the dance floor in the bar, summoning songs of her own with her knife to keep her moving before she went to do her shift at the library later. It was one of those days where if she thought about it too hard she’d start thinking about that empty bed in her shitty room and the person she most wanted to be there.

This of course eventually seeped into her magic. She knew better. Maybe she’d even wanted that to happen.

Because just once, between different pop hits and dance beats came a rather unexpected French love song. She sighed and rolled her eyes, but the exasperation didn’t last. Before the lyrics started up she was waltzing. By herself and not caring how it might have looked. And for those three and a half minutes, she dared let herself hope for the slimmest chance that Orlu might come through that door.

She didn’t let herself hope too hard, though. There was admitting to feeling things and there was setting yourself up for certain disappointment. She’d lived too long with disappointment to do that to herself.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"We're neighbors!" Peter exclaims. "I live right next door, room 215. It's on the third floor."

That didn't really make any sense to him when he first arrived; 215 seemed like a second-floor room, not a third. That was probably one of the least-weird parts of this place, though.

"I'll take you there," Peter pronounces, and he starts heading in the direction of the stairs, stopping to make sure that Rocket's following along.

Rocket was indeed following along. Why not? The kid was obviously harmless, and in Rocket's snap-judgement of people he was about as manipulative as any baby animal: he could probably sadface with the best of them, but he didn't get any deeper in the dance-my-puppets end of the pool.

"Oh goody, just what I wanted." The tone was sarcastic, but Rocket actually meant it. Having a harmless baby animal as a next-door neighbor meant that that direction, at least, didn't need to be guarded against as heavily. "Anything I should watch out for? In general I mean."

Peter has to think about that. "Well, everyone here is pretty nice," he says. "Some people are a little pricklier than others, but I don't think you're going to run into problems with most people."

Rocket seemed a little trigger-happy (literally and figuratively), but he hadn't acted out since that initial encounter, so Peter was inclined to think he wasn't so bad. A lot of people tended to freak out when they showed up. Peter couldn't really blame them.

"Oh, portals open up every now and then, so you can sometimes go to other places. They're only open for awhile, so most of the time people people grab supplies or explore." Or both.

Peter heads up the second flight of stairs.

"The chef in the kitchen only cooks chicken. There's other people who cook here, though, just in case you don't. They're usually around during the usual mealtimes."

Peter thinks as he climbs up the second flight of stairs.

"If you mess up anything, the inn just fixes itself overnight, so don't freak out about it. Major redecorating isn't really a thing here." Peter hopes that Rocket likes his room, at least. Most people didn't.

"Eh. If it's got a floor, four walls, and a ceiling it's fine. Hell, it really only needs a floor. Not like it's vacuum outside." Flippant words, but Rocket's ears were swiveled forward attentively, taking in the information so he could process it. The Inn was an inescapable prison that allowed furloughs sometimes, but the inmates of said prison didn't behave normally for prisoners. Probably that was because the Inn didn't act like a normal prison even if it was one.

All good things to know. "I can handle the food thing. Spent a lot of time by myself, so it was handle my own food or let someone else handle it. An' killing people who tried to poison me... well I mean it didn't get boring but I got sick of the shrieking."

Peter really wonders what kind of place Rocket came from, but he doesn't want to pry this early on.

But he's going to anyway.

"Where were you from?" he asks, just as they make it up to the second floor.

"Nowhere you'd know, humie." Nowhere Rocket wanted to think about or remember any more than he had to. "It's not important. Been in jail a few times, though. So you know, I got real low standards."

Jail. Given Rocket's knee-jerk reaction, that didn't really surprise him. Was the knee-jerk reaction what got him in jail, or a product of being imprisoned? Peter wasn't sure.

"I'm from Earth," Peter volunteers helpfully. "You ever been there?"

Maybe he wouldn't know where Rocket was from, but maybe Rocket would know where he was from instead.

"Yeah, kinda. I got stuck in a city for the last coupla years - pretty similar to this fuckin' place in a way - an' it was on some kinda Earth." Alternate reality, maybe. Didn't matter. And it was definitely not a place he was attached enough to that he had to suppress sadness pangs over not being there anymore. Nope. "But I'd bet I've never been to your Earth. I don't exactly blend in with you bald bodies."

"Bald bodies?" Peter echoes. It was probably an accurate descriptor for them, though. They weren't exactly covered with fur. Peter couldn't even grow facial hair yet.

"We've had aliens show up before," Peter says, as they start down the hall. "The Chitauri. Thor's technically an alien too, but I think everyone gives him a pass since he looks human."

Peter looks down at Rocket. "I think people'd probably still freak out, but maybe a lot less than they would before all the weird things started happening."

"Look in a mirror, pinkie, you are basically hairless. It's fuckin' creepy, but nobody consulted me on humie design." As opposed to Rocket, who was mostly very well-furred. And the parts of him that were bald on account of implants were covered up.

But that was a casual and mostly-unmeant nastiness. "Think I heard'a the Chitauri." They were one of Thanos's goon-species, weren't they? Why did he never listen to Drax or Gamora rant? No, it was dumb, and he'd been right not to waste his time. "Yeah, you're an optimist but I'm betting the reaction'd go the other way. I'm good with keepin' away." People pulled the trigger faster on monsters after they'd learned it worked as a coping method.

"You know the Chitauri?"

He didn't go around discussing the attack on New York with everyone, but this was the first time he'd ever heard of anyone actually knowing who they were.

Peter files this information away for later.

"Your room's all the way down this hall," he says, and when they finally pass his room, Peter directs a finger at it. "This is my room. And this one's yours."

Peter points a finger at the one right next to it -- the one closest to the window at the end of the hall.

"I heard of'em I think. Might be more like I knew people who knew'em." And whether it had been Gamora or Drax there probably hadn't been anything useful. Just 'awful dad' and 'revenge fantasy' all over the place. Yawn. "People I didn't pay much attention to."

As for the room - end of the hall was great. Only one direct neighbor, and it was the humie kid who seemed more like some kind of fluffy baby animal who'd been shoved into clothes and then strategically shaved. Rocket had to reach up a bit to apply the key to the lock, because like all doors everywhere it was built to a scale literally over twice as tall as him.

But when the door opened, revealing the room? All the dire 'you won't be able to mess with it' reminders didn't matter so much. Rocket was pretty sure he wouldn't need to mess with it. It was blue, not pink. There were windows. There was a balcony - an escape route if he needed one. "I'm pretty sure I can live with this."

"It's pretty good," Peter says, tentatively stepping inside after Rocket. He wasn't sure if he was okay with him intruding like this, but if they were going to be neighbors, it might be a good idea for them to at least get to know one another a little better. Peter knew all the nearby neighbors at his apartment complex, and a few more that he saw a lot in the elevator and outside.

"Most of the rooms are pretty nice," Peter says. "It's just the decor that upsets people." Peter wasn't particularly ruffled by his room, but he knew plenty of people that were.

"I have a roommate," Peter says, because that probably bares explanation. "There's two rooms and he lives in the other one. His name is Alec, so if you see anyone leaving the room that isn't me, it's probably him."

"Knew there had to be a catch." And this Alec guy was almost certainly not as harmless (in the sense of meaning no harm, not the sense of being unable to harm) as Peter, because probably nobody was. "Eh, I'll live."

After another few seconds of evolving short term plans, Rocket added as if forced, "Thanks for the help, kid."

"Alec's a good guy -- really great guy," he says, hoping to convince Rocket of this fact. He wants Rocket to know that they're definitely going to be good neighbors.

Even though there's a good chance that they're not always going to be.

"I'll be next door," Peter says jerking a thumb at the wall adjacent to his room. "If you need anything else, just let me know."

Peter heads for the door, then turns around right when he's about to slip out.

"It was good meeting you, Mr. Rocket!"

Mister? Was the kid serious??

By his face, the answer was yes. Rocket repressed the urge to... actually, no he didn't. He rolled his eyes. "Just Rocket! I'm not Mr. anything, got it? Get lost!"

Ack.

"Okay, sorry!" Peter says. He tries to open his mouth to correct himself -- to just say Rocket, but every time the word starts to come out, he can feel the Mr. right there on the tip of his lips.

So before he can say it again, Peter Parker scrambles out the room and shuts the door closed behind him.

He presses his back against the door and takes a breath.

So far, today has been a really interesting day.

Edited (missing a word and i only caught it during a re-read, lol) 2018-05-17 19:10 (UTC)

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[GP/EP] Check-in Day

Re: Assigned Threads

Re: Assigned Threads

Re: Assigned Threads

Re: Assigned Threads

Re: Assigned Threads

Re: Assigned Threads

Re: Assigned Threads

Re: Assigned Threads

Re: Assigned Threads

Re: Assigned Threads

Re: Assigned Threads

Re: Assigned Threads

Re: Assigned Threads

Re: Assigned Threads

Re: Assigned Threads

Re: Assigned Threads

Re: Assigned Threads