i've looked at clouds from both sides now (𝐧𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥)

[possessum]

<sup>Who: Peter Graham + you! Prompts will be placed here.
What: Canon update business, potential event things, tba.
When: Through the month of November.
Where: Various places in Trench / tba.

Content Warnings: This character comes with demonic possession by default. There's a gif including nudity (non-sexual, just a couple of people shown naked from behind) in one of the posts. Additional warnings will be placed in individual spaces.</sup>

^{( On Peter's birthday and Blessed Month, he will go through a canon update that's given him updated memories. For weeks 1 - 3 he will mentally be MIA, and Paimon/Charlie may be interacted with. On week 4, Peter will return. Closed starters will be placed under the appropriate posts. Please hit me up @ plot post / plurk / large bat#2354 / pm if you're interested in a starter / if you'd like to plot for the month! )}

Comments

[obeir]

[ Instructions are provided in the same vein as a parent indulging their curious child by creating tasks that "require" the child's help, down to even maintaining a pretense of not being able to leave the stove long enough to collect additional ingredients himself. He isn't sure if Paimon necessarily believes the harmless ruse, but he takes his role seriously enough that K doesn't spend much energy worrying about it; it's keeping Paimon quietly occupied and allowing Luna to rest undisturbed, that's what matters.

The meals they've been preparing are intentionally heavy, filling, rich in both protein and carbohydrates, the kind of fare that practically guarantees drowsiness afterward. And Luna is no doubt clever enough to catch onto what he's doing — if she knows food science. Either way, he's banking on her eating the food regardless, and hopefully allowing herself more breaks to rest while he attends to Paimon and miscellaneous household chores so there'll be less for her to worry about later. Fortunately Paimon has become cooperative enough that hygiene and grooming are relatively simple matters, handled with care, and if the demon has happened to notice those aching moments where K has turned away to discreetly swipe at his eyes, he mercifully hasn't said anything. Then there's cooking, of course, and general tidying wherever it's needed, much in the same way he'd contributed to the upkeep of Ben and Will's household all that time ago. His first real experience having any manner of family. Happier times, when everyone had gathered together under one roof, before circumstances whittled down their motley family one after another. And now, possibly even Peter has been lost...

Thoughts of whom have K occasionally humming to himself, quiet, melancholic melodies from the music Peter had frequently listened to — the Beatles, Fleetwood Mac. Sometimes more indie offerings. It's soft and unobtrusive, his humming, and almost absent as though he isn't consciously aware of doing it. His mind is too preoccupied with other concerns. But he's aware of Paimon's silent presence at his side, and his humming has trailed off by the time the demon speaks. K glances sidelong at him with a considering look, a hint of a smile pulling up the corners of his mouth. ]

I think she will, too. Thank you for your help. [ But it's not a dismissal, not just yet; he's still stirring the pot on the stovetop while intermittently checking the other food, multitasking with the ease of long practise. And it isn't difficult coming up with further tasks for Paimon to assist with, some of which are even legitimately helpful: ] Will you get a couple plates and bowls for me, please?

[ For two place settings, because he intends to join Paimon for dinner and leave Luna sleeping. He knows how sorely needed it is and is determined to enable her to get as much as she can. ]

[possessum]

( He's certainly aware of the humming from K — soft and quiet, like echoes of thought. Humming is familiar to him, and something of a comfort; Luna often hums to herself, or she used to. Not so much these days.

He likes when K does it, head tilted bird-like towards the android, never interrupting, only listening for those soft sounds, snippets of melody. Parts of them might be recognisable to the demon from long periods of silence listening to Peter listen to things, but he couldn't name any of the songs, couldn't pinpoint them.

He stands there quiet and willing, and as soon as the next instruction is given, turns to head that way — almost robotic, as though his movements are focused only on the one task, and every single thing besides that is forgotten. He finds two plates, two bowls, and he carries them back to the table where he carefully sets them out. He's done this many times with Luna — "made the table"; he knows how. It's done slow and meticulous, the demon shifting both bowls until they're aligned perfectly in the same positions, the same inches back from the edge of the table. Precise and neat. Two sets of cutlery are displayed just as carefully next to the arrangements.

With that task done, he returns faithfully to K's side, like a shadow rejoining its body. )

I have set the table, ( he informs in his soft monotone. His eyes move slowly to look back at his work, staring there in gesture; K might have a different way of wanting it done than how he usually helps Luna. The demon will check— )

Is it pleasing? I will redo it if it is not.

[obeir]

You did very good. It's perfect. [ K replies with warm approval, privately grateful that Paimon hadn't stabbed the silverware into the table or flung any plates or bowls across the room. As erratic as he's been acting lately, understandably, K just isn't always sure what to expect, and at times the more harrowing memories of teaching at Deerington High are not far from his thoughts.

Even amid this heart-wrenching uncertainty he strives to be the calm in the storm, a steady presence, projecting a composed confidence that's in truth only about skin deep right now, unable to penetrate past his cumulative worries. But he's adept at presenting this particular front in a convincing manner. He's had to be, in order to survive in his home universe.

He switches off the stove burners and goes about serving them both portions of the ham and mushroom fried rice, sesame noodles, spring rolls, the rich miso soup... Since this isn't really the time or place for culinary experimentation, he'd chosen what he knows best: Asian cuisine had dominated the Los Angeles that he's from, and it remains the food that he has the most experience making from scratch (or close enough to it — he's still perfecting his noodle-making, and these were traded for). The remaining food is transferred into appropriate containers, labelled with the date, and put away in the fridge. Whenever Luna wakes, he intends to warm some for her then. Hopefully many hours from now. ]

Tell me what you think. And if you have a particular favourite. Have you had food like this before?

[ He pulls out Paimon's chair for him, waiting for him to be seated first before taking his own. So much of his manner is characterised by these simple acts of courtesy. By choice, now, rather than out of a programmed obligation to serve. ]

[possessum]

( 'Very good' is a worthy praise in itself; 'perfect' is next-level. The demon's a bit stunned to hear it, but in his quiet way — unmoving, unblinking, only staring. He can feel his spirit prickling, however, little reminders of what he truly is up underneath. Praise is important to it.

Emboldened, Paimon continues to follow K around like an oversized duckling, hovering never too far away while the android dishes out portions of the food, dark eyes locked onto each movement with curiosity. Then he's moving to sit down, slow and purposeful, but it only serves to betray that none of this is very natural for him, perhaps: spine too-straight, eyes too focused. He may know what it is to set a table, but he's rarely the one actually eating the food, tending to flicker away while his vessel and witch eat and chat with one another.

And so, to K's question, the demon's head slowly turns to look at him— )

Not many. I do not like to eat. ( What a thing to admit after someone's just prepared dinner..... but it isn't because of the type of food itself, or anything of that sort. It's... in general; eating is strange, foreign, unnatural for what he is beneath Peter. )

However... I know that my host body must have... nourishment. ( The demon dips his head slightly as though in gesture of a nod, and slowly reaches for a spring roll first; those seem to have really grabbed his attention.... He holds it up very close to his nose, and gives an inhale. While he's doing that, he asks— )

What is your favourite?