[ she'd mentioned the upside down before, when they were sat at the bonfire. at the time, peter had assumed she'd meant some kind of inverse or alternate reality and, uh.
this isn't doing a whole lot to change his mind.
flayed is descriptive enough (or so he thinks), demogorgon less so (wasn't that, like, a dungeons and dragons thing?)
there are a few responses on the tip of his tongue, a few bad jokes he'd ordinarily come out with to break the tension, but she says she doesn't like this and she's scared, he thinks. she doesn't know him well enough to have a good read on his sense of humour; he doesn't know her well enough to be able to know what'd distract her beyond just talking at her.
(but also: nancy's head opens like the demogorgon??) ]
[ he'd been all set to tell her a story about like, spider-man. or that time when fred had dragged him out to the bar with no name and he'd won the spider-man trivia quiz.
(man, that'd have been embarrassing if he'd lost it, right?)
or that time when he'd had the spider-mobile and drove it up the side of the bugle offices just to mess with jonah.
but then she asks him for a story about him and it throws him off. ]
Alright, if you're after a story about me, you're going to have to help me out here and pick a genre. Romcom? Sitcom? I'm vetoing horror since we've got enough of that.
[ truth be told, peter has a lot of fond memories, a lot of things that make him happy — once, he'd asked may why she hadn't moved out of the forest hills home when ben had died; when her friends had said the home would have too many bad memories. she'd said that the good memories outweighed the bad, that every room she entered she did see him, but it was always a memory she wanted to remember.
thinking of home here isn't always a happy experience, but it does make him think of happier times, times he wouldn't trade for all the world. ]
Uh—, you know, I'm pretty lucky in that there's a lot that hit that mark. Maybe not a lot that independently make sense.
[ pause. ]
—I have a friend. His name's Harry, and he's — not always had it easy. A few years ago, he had to stay in hospital for a little while and when he got out, we wanted to welcome him home. My aunt made a cake, all of our friends were there — he's helped me out a lot over the years, so it was nice to be able to help with something to help him, you know? And more than that... It was nice being able to get everyone together. You should've seen his face.
It's not much of a story, I was definitely thinking more of a parable, but it's a happy memory.
Vanilla sponge, with strawberry frosting. [ beat. ] I kept eating it while the cake was in the oven. [ a soft huff of breath that sounds like it could be the precursor to a laugh, and it’s evident from his tone just how fond he is of his aunt. ] She threatened to put pepper in it the next time, to stop me eating it all before she’d had chance to ice the cake.
—He did, but I haven’t met anyone who dislikes my aunt’s cooking.
I see your Eggos and I raise you homemade wheatcakes.
[ WHAT he wouldn't give for some of may's wheatcakes—.
(even if apparently no-one else knows what they are??) ]
But even if Eggos aren't quite on the same level as wheatcakes, I hope you didn't waste any. Cream, sprinkles and fried batter are the holy grail of breakfasts and I hear there's a special circle of— uh. How many boxes of Eggos did you use?
[ The stack was impressive. Held up only by her power, not by any law of pysics known to mankind, certainly. ]
Well... didn't use all of them. Ruined Hop's shirt.
[ They had celebrated. Hopper had come home with the boxes, slipped the hair tie onto her thin wrist, and they'd built a tower, just because. After, still sticky from the tower falling on him, Hopper had shown her the new birth certificate.
Jane Hopper.
She'd hugged him and gotten crumbs and whipped cream and sprinkles all over herself, too. ]
[ there's a noise — a contemplative hum, and— ] —Nah, you've got me. That story would definitely have been ending with way more than a wrecked shirt if I attempted to eat anything near eleven Eggos and whipped cream all in one go.
The best I've ever managed is a pint of ice cream with a mug of hot cocoa the size of my face.
It's even better when it's raining outside and you don't need to go anywhere.
[ but those are always the days and nights when something happens, when he ends up having to dash out and leave mj earlier than he'd said; or when he ends up being out longer than he'd thought and their date gets cancelled or postponed.
(but he's pointedly not thinking about mj now.
or trying to.) ]
You thought about what flavour you're getting next time?
Silly? [ mostly, he's just going to repeat and sound slightly incredulous. he's been called worse things, he's been called more insulting things but honestly?
he can't really argue with silly. ] What'd I do to earn that moniker? [ beat. ] The strawberry and pistachio's pretty good if you're taking recommendations.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
savingthrows) wrote2019-07-31 01:14 am
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steve looks flayed
nancys head opens like the demogorgon
i woke up and thought i was in the upside down
i dont like this peter
1/....2
this isn't doing a whole lot to change his mind.
flayed is descriptive enough (or so he thinks), demogorgon less so (wasn't that, like, a dungeons and dragons thing?)
there are a few responses on the tip of his tongue, a few bad jokes he'd ordinarily come out with to break the tension, but she says she doesn't like this and she's scared, he thinks. she doesn't know him well enough to have a good read on his sense of humour; he doesn't know her well enough to be able to know what'd distract her beyond just talking at her.
(but also: nancy's head opens like the demogorgon??) ]
Hey, me either. It's pretty scary.
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So, do you want to hear a story?
1/2
a story about you
2/2
please
1/3
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(man, that'd have been embarrassing if he'd lost it, right?)
or that time when he'd had the spider-mobile and drove it up the side of the bugle offices just to mess with jonah.
but then she asks him for a story about him and it throws him off. ]
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maybe a happy story
a story that makes you happy to remember and tell
that would make me happy too
—audio.
thinking of home here isn't always a happy experience, but it does make him think of happier times, times he wouldn't trade for all the world. ]
Uh—, you know, I'm pretty lucky in that there's a lot that hit that mark. Maybe not a lot that independently make sense.
[ pause. ]
—I have a friend. His name's Harry, and he's — not always had it easy. A few years ago, he had to stay in hospital for a little while and when he got out, we wanted to welcome him home. My aunt made a cake, all of our friends were there — he's helped me out a lot over the years, so it was nice to be able to help with something to help him, you know? And more than that... It was nice being able to get everyone together. You should've seen his face.
It's not much of a story, I was definitely thinking more of a parable, but it's a happy memory.
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It's nice to hear Peter's voice, hear something normal that isn't tainted by what she can see.
The story is nice, too. ]
Did he like... the cake? Harry. What kind was it?
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—He did, but I haven’t met anyone who dislikes my aunt’s cooking.
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Still. There's a fond smile evident in her voice. ]
Hop makes good breakfast, but... can not cook other things well. He brings Eggos with whipped cream. And sprinkles.
[ Small pause. A soft sound, like a quiet giggle. ]
We made a tower once. With Eggos. I held it in place with... my powers. When I let go... splattered all over Hop.
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[ WHAT he wouldn't give for some of may's wheatcakes—.
(even if apparently no-one else knows what they are??) ]
But even if Eggos aren't quite on the same level as wheatcakes, I hope you didn't waste any. Cream, sprinkles and fried batter are the holy grail of breakfasts and I hear there's a special circle of— uh. How many boxes of Eggos did you use?
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[ The stack was impressive. Held up only by her power, not by any law of pysics known to mankind, certainly. ]
Well... didn't use all of them. Ruined Hop's shirt.
[ They had celebrated. Hopper had come home with the boxes, slipped the hair tie onto her thin wrist, and they'd built a tower, just because. After, still sticky from the tower falling on him, Hopper had shown her the new birth certificate.
Jane Hopper.
She'd hugged him and gotten crumbs and whipped cream and sprinkles all over herself, too. ]
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[ There's a tease in her voice. Oh, he's just the type to have done worse, isn't there. ]
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[Part denial, part question. Surely he couldn't have.]
Better than... Eleven Eggo Tower? No.
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The best I've ever managed is a pint of ice cream with a mug of hot cocoa the size of my face.
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I like ice cream.
[ Definitely a fond reference to their after-study visits to the ice cream parlor, despite its strange flavours. ]
I'm glad we get it... here. Even weird. I only got... it in a cone, once. At the mall.
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[ but those are always the days and nights when something happens, when he ends up having to dash out and leave mj earlier than he'd said; or when he ends up being out longer than he'd thought and their date gets cancelled or postponed.
(but he's pointedly not thinking about mj now.
or trying to.) ]
You thought about what flavour you're getting next time?
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[ Yes, she just called you silly, Petter.
What are you going to do about that? ]
Maybe.... the just Vanilla one. Not so strange, like the others.
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he can't really argue with silly. ] What'd I do to earn that moniker? [ beat. ] The strawberry and pistachio's pretty good if you're taking recommendations.
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[ Duh. Probably easy to hear the amusement in her voice, though.
Peter has a tendency to bring that out. Eleven's a bit brighter around him. ]
Pis-tash...-ee-oh. I will try.
1/2 i'm sorry
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CW for PTSD, human experiments, flashback
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