deercountry | patisserie lysitherie: preparations

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patisserie lysitherie: preparations

[a. video, un: charon, ota]

Good evening, Trench. The grand opening of... [she frowns as she says the next part] the Patisserie Lysitherie is currently scheduled for November 15th, pending any horrible Trenchian incidents. So most likely, November 30th.

As we prepare for transition into our new space, I'm seeking a few things.

First, Architects or anyone good with woodworking and metalworking to remodel the existing building and to install a few necessary appliances. I need more ovens. Anyone interested in helping with the business is welcome, too, of course.

Second, if any recreational businesses are interested in a steady supply of pastries - for instance, a café or a bookstore - I'm open to partnerships.

Third, if you've got a cake or a sweet from home you're just dying to experience, I'd like to start collecting recipes from all of you Sleepers. I began this business to revive my beloved nostalgic sweets, but I realize... I'd like to be able to bring that experience to others, too.

[b. Willful Machine, early November, ota]

Augh!

[There comes a loud explosion from a rather derelict building in the middle of the Willful Machine district. A half-dozen thumps and clangs follow. ...Then the upper story of the building drops about three feet, releasing an enormous plume of smoke that settles over wary shoppers and merchants. A girl covered in a thick layer of dust stumbles out ten seconds later and falls backwards on the ground.]

I suppose... that takes care of the rodent issue.

[The building belches out a gout of flame behind her.]

[c. Lysithea's home (Gaze), early November, for new and old customers, employees, or other general CR]

[With the bakery operations in full swing and the storefront not yet ready, Lysithea's home is in perpetual activity. Whether she's fulfilling orders, experimenting with new pastries, or bullying her employees, Lysithea works tirelessly to make her dream a reality. For the time being, her work as an Arcane Scholar in the School of Mutter is suspended as she focuses on her craft.]

Look out - hot pan behind you!

Yes, yes, of course - I can do a dozen mini-cakes for you by tomorrow; that won't be a problem.

Here to collect? If you would sign this form here and fill out what you plan to trade...

You've procured the cinnamon? Wonderful! How much did it cost us? Did you have to give up the hematite?

[Regardless of why you're here, she'll open the door with smudges of honey and chocolate all over her face and an exhausted, though satisfied expression.]

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( Unfortunately, Peter is probably pretty bad at both of those things. His aesthetic skills kind of leave much to be desired. And as for baking.... well. He can reheat a cinnamon roll to make it squishy again. That's about all he can do, if it counts as "baking" (it certainly does not).

However! He will at least try........ )

I could try a little of both. Maybe see which one I don't totally screw up at. ( It's said light-heartedly, and yet... It's nothing but complete truth. Peter isn't exactly hosting heaps of confidence. But the boy turns to the already-made pastries first, looking them over as he slips his jacket off and folds it up neatly to set aside. He does have manners, at least...... )

Do you have any already packaged yet? I could just copy what you've done there.

( If Paimon is a toddler who needs step by step instruction, Peter is a child a couple years older, who is capable of looking at something already formed and finding his way to recreating it... )

Oh, don't say that. I'm certain you're much more competent than you give yourself credit for.

[Lysithea has generally observed Peter in one of two settings: pensive or depressed. It's nice to see him enjoying his day-to-day life a bit more. She hands Peter some disposable gloves and a set of tongs, then places one of her finished baskets on the table beside him.]

You don't have to do it like this exactly - this one specified that they would like some work on the presentation.

You can also just sort them neatly into the boxes if that's easier.

Try not to stack anything on top of each other, but if you must, the heavier items should go on the bottom. Everything is labeled.

( The sentiment is Very Kind and Peter's still woefully unused to accepting things like that, to knowing how to. The boy gives a shy smile that looks a little bit pained around the edges — like he's in just a tiny bit of pain, but trying to conceal it — as he reaches for the gloves and tongs, getting ready.

It... doesn't seem like too hard of a task, though. Not initially. Just putting things in boxes and baskets and making sure not to mess up the pastries in the process. The problem is.

He has extremely nervous hands.

Unlike Paimon's ability to stay inhumanly still and steady (and not blink, ever) with careful fingers capable of piecing together intricate bits and bobbles, Peter..... is shaking almost immediately. Just a little, but it's enough that his handiwork is anything but steady. He's slowly moving pastries with the tongs, arranging them in one of the empty boxes, when his fingers fumble with their grip, and the tongs loosen, and the thing falls right to the floor. Upside down. )

Fuck! ( Peter hisses, and then — winces. ) Sorry, I didn't mean to say that. Uh— sorry, I'll clean it up.

( He's stooping to retrieve the fallen treat, lifting it up. Well... it actually doesn't look so bad? Like.... he'd still eat it. )

.......It wasn't on the ground very long. Maybe it's okay to still use?

( Paimon, come back to your job )

[Truthfully, she's not entirely surprised. Lysithea is on the verge of expressing some vaguely reassuring platitude about things being dropped all the time when Peter trots out the most outrageous questions she's heard in recent memory. Her expression of incredulity cannot be masked.]

No!

Toss it in the garbage.

[And as Peter is eyeing it suspiciously, with the air of somebody thinking the words, 'I'd still eat it,' Lysithea feels the need to append:]

Please do not still eat it.

We are selling these, you know. If I start selling floor cake, my business is going to go under quicker than you can blink.

Don't fret, though. I knocked over an entire tray of scones just the other day.

( Is this.... Lysithea's Boss Voice....! It's very effective. Peter is stopped from putting the tainted pastry into the decorative box or into his mouth, one of the two — just holding the treat in the air, wide-eyed.

And he slowly looks over to the nearby trash bin, a little mournful. Throw it... away..? But Lysithea, it looks so good.... He wants to eat this....

But with the dignity of his friend's business at stake, he shuffles over to the bin and drops it in, barely even pouting. A good boy, albeit a trash one.

He's about to (half-playfully, half.....sadly) ask if she had to throw away an entire tray of scones, when it happens. And Peter can't possibly know it's because Lysithea gave him an "order", and orders are very sacred things, and that it would stir up the ancient thing dozing quietly.

But it's there — an odd flutter, something that always feels so cold, like a ghost breathing out from beneath him. Peter suddenly shudders as though chilled. At the same moment, there's a soft gasp, one quick inhale. He can feel the demon stirring, and the boy takes an instinctive step backwards.

Just as instinctive is the need to run away. To leave, distance himself from anyone close by, but something keeps Peter there. ....This is what he wanted to ask her about, after all. It's just that he wasn't expecting Paimon to make some sort of direct appearance, and certainly not so quickly. And any moment now the demon could react in some unfavourable way: convulsing, snarling, thrashing him around. Peter's heartbeat quickens with an anxiety, just shy of panicked. )

—Um.

( How do you tell someone that you think your demon is waking up? Peter looks like any second he's about to bolt, or pass out right on the floor. )

I think he's— I think he's here.

Peter - ? Are you...?

[She is reaching forward to attempt to steady him when he interrupts her with a quiet declaration. Her hand draws back.]

...Ah. But how...?

[This is... certainly new territory. Up to this point, she had communicated with Peter or Paimon and never the twain had met. To think of Peter being aware that the demon was on the verge of taking over -- was that what he meant? Or was it... that the consciousness had stirred to life within him?]

Never mind. Sit down, Peter. Is there anything I can do to stabilize you?

[Unconscious that she is continuing to give orders, simply because Lysithea gives orders as easily as she breathes, she drags over a chair and beckons him to sit before he falls over unconscious.]

Is he fully awake?

( He can't just have one nice afternoon helping a friend in her bakery.....

Anxiety is swelling up in him so quickly that Peter finds himself grateful for any direction, too — immediately moving to sit down when Lysithea says to with an almost robotic obedience, eyes wide as he stares straight ahead.

Within him, the demon's spirit is simply further stirred by the orders, and Peter's mouth tips open for a moment before he blinks and looks hazily up to her, eyes strange as the pupils of them dilate and contract and dilate again, slowly. )

Uhhhh..... ( Peter's mouth hangs open for a few beats too long, and then he seems to remember how to speak. )

I don't think so? He's.... here, but he's.... kind of caught up in me, I think. ( It's strange, both of them being conscious together, albeit... not cleanly. Peter shudders, and the shaky breath he releases comes out in a literal puff of fog: some strange, supernatural reaction, as though he's sitting near a ghost.

But the worst part is he can't really be 100% surprised by this happening. )

.......He's been coming here, hasn't he?

( He looks perfectly miserable as he says it. This wasn't how he planned to ask......... )

He has.

[Lysithea confirms with a nod, frowning as she pours out some hot water from the teapot. That puff of fog was not promising.]

I'm sorry. I thought you knew. ...Well, I realized when you came today. He's been... coming quite a bit, actually.

[Healing 101 in school had not covered 'what to do when somebody is on the verge of being overtaken by a demon' so she busies herself finding ways to make Peter comfortable, instead. She sets the cup before him and goes off to find a pillow of some sort.]

Drink.

Paimon has been wanting to learn how to help in the bakery. ...And how to be... more comfortable around humans, I think. He's not doing a bad job of learning, I must confess.

[And as she locates a fluffy enough specimen, she pauses.]

If you're here... together, now. Do you think you can communicate?

No, it's okay. I... guess I kind of knew for awhile, sort of.

( Peter admits, seeming ashamed as he says it. It's.... been easier to just try and ignore whatever Paimon is doing in his own time. He doesn't want to think about it. But he's losing more and more time, waking up disoriented and foggy and realising even more hours have passed — the demon clearly is living his own life quite comfortably, not hiding in this place as much as he had back in Deerington. And with them no longer living in a dream..... the restraints on Paimon have been lifted a lot more.

Maybe it's time to learn more about what he gets up to.

Peter reaches up to accept the cup, grateful for the warmth against his palms, and immediately takes a sip with that same obedience. Though he's startling again at what she says, looking up at the other with wide eyes. )

...He wants to help you in the bakery? ( That is absolutely NOT what he was expecting, having been preparing himself to hear that the thing was tormenting her or something. He knows Paimon seems to really like Lysithea (Peter hates this, thanks), but.... he hasn't been throwing things around and biting people's necks? Destroying her property? Lighting pastries on fire while screeching like the Damned?

He's about to answer that he doesn't think they can, that the demon's too hazy still, too muddled, when all of a sudden Peter feels a surge of emotion, like a pair of too-bright eyes have flashed open, and with them a swell of feeling that doesn't belong to him. He gasps at how abruptly angry and clear it is, the whispers of too many tongues like little grains of sand around him, abrasive. It seems Paimon has woken up more than he'd thought— )

Uh—! I actually think he's angry at me? For— being here?

( Of course he is!!! This is his job, why are you here, Peter?! Lysithea is his mage and work boss, how dare you....

It's at this point that one of Peter's hands (the other thankfully managing to keep hold of the hot cup in his lap) reaches up and starts scrabbling at his face while Peter gives a sudden loud scream. Hopefully there aren't any customers out there at the moment, because this can't be good for business.

But technically, this is communicating....? )

What is --

[Lysithea looks on in shock for only a split second before she has moved into swift action. The cup is swept off his lap and onto a sturdy table and the scrabbling hand is seized as she calls out in a firm voice:]

Stop that at once.

[...It is clear who she's speaking to. This is the same tone of voice she takes on when she is consciously giving commands, training something that by nature ought to be untrainable. She continues on.]

If you're going to use the same body, you do need to share. Peter is a customer.

[And Paimon has received lots and lots of instruction about how he ought to be treating customers - or so Lysithea hopes when she speaks.]

He's paying us by doing a bit of packaging, but we still need to treat him the same way we do our other customers.

( As soon as Lysithea tells him to stop, the demon does — and it's him looking up at her for that moment, hand freezing as she grabs it, hard eyes locked onto the mage.

He's silent. Listening obediently to her. Peter, for the moment, is held down where he cannot scream again.

A.... customer...? That does change things into a form Paimon can understand: categorising people is how he makes sense of... just about everything. If Peter is a customer then he can be here, he supposes..... and he has learned a lot about how to treat customers. He has tried to become much more Pleasant and Approachable, instead of Creepy and Intimidating.

Still. This is his thing, not Peter's, and he doesn't like that he's here. The demon frowns, eyes a mottled blend of Peter's warmer brown and Paimon's inky black. Worst of all, he's sure his host would make things harder for Lysithea.... (as if Paimon himself hasn't also been a headache.... Lysithea, you have to deal with a lot.) )

He is unskilled. And he will try to eat everything.

( ....He has a point. )

Well -- as long as he pays for everything, we'll all come out happy.

[Lysithea responds in a forcibly cheery tone. After a moment of meeting Paimon and Peter's commingled eyes (she founds the effect truly very alarming), she releases the boy's hand and steps back.]

Now, if you'd rather Peter pay for his purchases some other way, we can negotiate that. I won't deny he's not very skilled, but this is a method of payment we accept.

[She points at the stacks of paper pinned to a bulletin board - the saved orders from the past months. On each one is recorded a customer, the requested pastries, and the manner of payment, ranging from 'a blue gemstone' to 'a pretty feather' to 'one day of delivery work'.]

Either way, don't squabble. It's bad for business -- and for the well-being of our cakes.

( Paimon continues to listen to Lysithea, remaining very quiet for a long few moments, eyes silently following her gesture to the bulletin board. Though he doesn't argue against anything she says (to his displeasure, it all.... makes sense....), he has a distinctly But moooooom, expression on his face.

Slowly, he lowers his hand to his lap, sitting up very straight with his back completely erect, an opposite to the way Peter tends to slouch in attempt to make himself as small as possible.

He knows he must do whatever he can for the well-being of her business, and the cakes. Of course, this is the most important.... He takes his day job very seriously. )

I believe we should make him pay another way. Faster. ( So he can get out! Paimon holds up his hand again, cups his palm in front of himself, and in a flash, a pure golden coin appears in the middle of it. He's gotten quite skilled at doing this, by now. )

He can pay with this.... If you find it suitable.

( Here Peter, your allowance. )

[Oh dear. She had forgotten he could do that. ...On one hand, she wouldn't actually have to run the bakery if she could just get her demon friend to alchemize gold from air. On the other hand, growing wealthy hadn't exactly been the point. Somehow, it always feels vaguely immoral to be accepting Paimon's gold.

Lysithea sighs after a moment's pause, though.]

I think for a deal to be proper, I've got to actually hear from the customer. Peter, is this acceptable to you?

[And... she would like them to communicate. Even a little. It could be the start of a slightly better working relationship between these two.]

( As soon as Lysithea says Peter's name, Paimon's hold over him breaks — it seems like calling them out directly by name works for both.... which is perhaps a new development. But there's Peter, gasping and shifting fretfully against his seat, like he's trying to escape.... something. The room, his body, his entire life, maybe. )

His stupid coins— he keeps making these stupid things—

( The coins tumble out of his hands as he lifts his palms up, the shiny objects clattering loudly onto the floor. )

I don't want to use his stupid coins and they're not even really worth anything—

( Peter is then flung off of his chair like a ragdoll and onto the floor. It's not too hard, certainly not enough to break anything: almost unceremoniously cast aside. He's just kind of... tossed.

Of course, it doesn't stop him from screaming again. Peter screams at the top of his lungs now, rolling on the floor.

Lysithea taught Paimon to respect the customer, that's very true, but this customer..... is causing problems for no good reason and Paimon's had it! Sometimes customers need to be knocked to the ground, don't they?? )

Peter! Don't be so childish.

[This rebuke is aimed at the boy first - he is far too old to be acting in such a petulant manner, particularly when it is clear that Lysithea is maneuvering for him to escape this with minimal damage. Her words come too late, though; Paimon has already reacted in the manner she anticipates:

Displeased.

The exact nature of his displeasure was impossible to predict, though, and Lysithea hops back as the boy begins to writhe across the floor.]

Stop! Stop, both of you!

[A wave of the hand, and a luminous orb of light hangs in mid-air before exploding into blossoms of sparks. This does absolutely nothing, but she remembers how magic has captivated Paimon in the past.]

( There's an issue at the core of all of it here, one that's been ongoing for.... quite some time. A particular thing that leads to the clashing between them, though it's not something that's been talked about much.

Peter's lack of respect for Paimon, the upset it coaxes from the demon....

Paimon's aggression towards his host, how it makes Peter dislike and disrespect him....

The inevitable result is an endless cycle of discord. This absolutely isn't the first time they've ended up rolling around on the floor, and it's less violent than what normally happens, at least (Peter, slammed against the wall or headsmashed into the nearest hard surface). ....Still, it's a certain chaos that doesn't befit the peace of a bakery. Lysithea doesn't deserve putting up with these large children.

Suddenly there's a flash of light, and they're freezing — Paimon first, attention immediately fixed on the spectacular sight, but it's Peter too: staring widely, mouth tipped open. They watch the shower of sparks, eyes slowly following the magical light downwards. They've gone completely silent.

Then they're sitting up, slowly; it's difficult to tell which moves the body and maybe by this point it's both, but there they sit on the floor. The expression on the face is, at least, genuinely apologetic. It probably is coming from both of them: the rare thing they have in common here is that they wouldn't want to upset Lysithea on purpose, whether she's perceived as work boss or friend. )

..........Sorry.

Hmph.

[This is not precisely the right tone to take with your friend / demon employee, but Lysithea glowers down at the pair like a schoolteacher addressing the class miscreants. She is far too accustomed to instructing Paimon at this point to break character - especially if they're going to present themselves like faintly guilty children.]

If you're going to apologize, then apologize to each other.

Peter, I know antagonizing Paimon is your only way to voice your displeasure, but you must see that it's counterproductive. And Paimon - you obviously know that bashing Peter's head on the floor just gives you a headache, too.

Honestly.

[She sighs, and if neither of them immediately protest, she leans in and begins to remove some of the packed delivery boxes from the vicinity of the formerly thrashing boy.]

It's a very frustrating and wholly untenable situation for you both, and it's very unfair. But making it worse doesn't actually solve anything.

It literally just makes it worse.

( Apologise to each other—

There's a visible flinch at that concept, before they're listening intently to Lysithea instead: still drawn in with a certain focus as she repeats both of their names, watching her move some of the boxes.

It.... does help, listening to someone who's so objectively understanding and seemingly un-biased about it all. She's just reporting the facts, and neither are being admonished more than the other. Both have... acted up and both sets of sins are listed, here.

The fact she says it's frustrating... means something, too. It is frustrating, for both parties, and having someone acknowledge that fact... it isn't so common. In fact, it stuns them a little.

It's Paimon who speaks up first: Paimon, capable of being a problem-solver himself way deep down under all the strange botched layers. His voice, distinctive for its slower speaking, heavy-tongued on certain words and hissy at others. )

It has made it worse. ( He agrees, solemnly. Look at him, Lysithea, being the better child. Please take note. ) And it does ache my head.

( He turns towards Lysithea where he's still sitting on the floor, drawing his hands slowly into his lap. His hissy fit seems over, at least.... and he's actually in some kind of Responsible Demon King Mode now?? )

....Perhaps we can communicate, as you suggested. ...Speak, to each other. We have done it before, but my vessel has a difficult time with it. Perhaps you can help us.

( A conference here on the floor... )

I would be delighted.

[responds Lysithea, who realizes as she speaks that she isn't being entirely facetious. Possibly she has grown so accustomed to being overly accommodating of the demon (far more than she would be with literally anybody else) that she has begun to delude herself into thinking that she enjoys dealing with all this.

...Or perhaps she does, a bit. Perhaps there is a part of her that enjoys this level of power - this level of control over an ancient, near-omnipotent being. Perhaps there is a part of her that is curious about where this would all lead. ...If she were more charitable to herself, perhaps she simply wants to do everything in her power to make Peter's life a little bit more tolerable.

This would require unpacking later.]

...It would probably be easier if we all sat at the table, though.

[Hint hint. Lysithea, after carefully stacking her rescued pastries, seats herself at the kitchen table across from where Peter/Paimon had been prior to his outburst and waits for him to join her.

...She has no idea what she's doing.]

( Obedient as ever, Paimon uncurls his legs and stands, slowly moving that way to sit down. This.... does feel better, more civilised. He's... learning. Quietly, the demon places his hands on the table, staring down at them for a long moment.

Then he reaches one out for her. )

If you hold his hand. He will feel more at ease.

( Of course, seconds ago, Paimon was flinging Peter to the floor.... but now he's changed his tune yet again, easing into something more calmed, and perhaps even more capable. Certainly, this agreement isn't for Peter's sake, but for Lysithea's — and ultimately Luna's, as well: the magical beings whom the demon respects on a particular level. It had actually come up with Luna that he and Peter should try to learn how to work together better. Some time has passed since then, and.... well. Now that Lysithea's mentioned it too, maybe it's time to try to make that happen.

Even if the set-up feels something like a spooky séance, especially when Paimon starts asking aloud.... )

...Vessel? Are you still here?

( A strained silence, and then a second voice speaks from the mouth, one with more emotion than the first, tremouring slightly, nervous. )

Stop calling me that.

( ....There's a long pause, and then the demon speaks again, the voice shifting with a quiet hiss. )

You are not meant to give me command. ( As though for emphasis, and to express his woes, Paimon looks at ~~Mom~~ Lysithea with all the chagrin of someone telling on his brother. ) He is not meant to give me command.

[This is exactly like a spooky seance, and regrettably, Lysithea has far less experience with those than magic circles and ritual incantations. She blinks at Paimon -- Peter's hand for only a moment before she slips her cool, white hand into the boy's.

...Incidentally, this is the first time she has held a boy's hand.

Somehow, it does not feel very fulfilling. This is truly the least romantic gesture imaginable and Lysithea, for as little as she cares about these things, quickly decides that this does not count at all.

The first argument begins much more quickly than she had expected.]

Don't I give you commands?

But alright, then. Let's establish some ground rules for communication. No commands. No demands. No insults or tantrums.

Is that reasonable for both of you?

[She says, aware of the irony in the statement 'No commands allowed.' Her voice is cool, composed as it always is. She maintains an excellent facade of confidence.]

Edited 2021-12-31 04:28 (UTC)

( Sorry, Lysithea..... But it definitely doesn't count. This... thing is hardly a boy, really. Just a mess.....

One with many complications, as Paimon listens to her for a long moment in silence and then speaks up quickly before Peter can. He's clearly the dominant twin here. )

You may give me commands, for you are a being of great magic. My vessel is only a human, and therefore has no right.

( There are ancient rules he must follow, and it's all about Hierarchy, for Paimon. He obeys witches, mages, those who have summoned him... and Lucifer. Peter is completely nonmagical and normal (well, aside from the effects this place have had on him); at the very least, he is certainly not a magician or a summoner, and so he has no place in bossing Paimon around or giving him any kind of direction. )

But yes, these rules are reasonable. ( There's a solemn nod, and then he lets Peter speak up again. As soon as he breaks through for that brief moment, he's shaking, shuddering, once again as though very cold. Peter... really doesn't handle this well; it's hard on his mental and physical state alike.

This is inevitably going to end with him passed out cold on the floor of Lysithea's bakery for several hours. )

Y-yeah, that's.... yeah.

( He looks to Lysithea with wide eyes, shuddering still. )

I won't command him or— wh-whatever. But how is it fair that I never get to— to ask him to do anything? He gets to do whatever he wants and I just— I just have to deal with it.

( ...This seems to be less "communicating with each other" and more "airing their grievances about each other to Lysithea." But maybe it's good to get some of it out into the open.... )

[Well, that was very flattering. As much as Lysithea suspected that to be the case (her mind flickering back to the ritual they had performed in Deerington), it was another thing to hear it confirmed directly from the mouth of the demon himself. Conscious that it is inappropriate to appear pleased for any reason, she readjusts her posture and sits herself upright in her chair.

When Peter reappears, she feels a pang of sympathy for his predicament. Of course she sympathizes with the human - but if she sides with him too noticeably, the demon will doubtlessly torment his host even further. There was a careful balance to be made here.]

I understand. You feel like when he's in control, you don't get any input. But I assume when you're out and about, he can just take over at any point?

[Certainly, she had seen something of that nature just transpire.]

Have you tried asking him before? I know it bridles to be domineered like this, and it's perfectly natural to do so, but I do mean asking - and not yelling or complaining.

Yeah, he just— he can just take over my whole body whenever. But I can't do that to him.

( It's extremely unfair...! Peter's mentally weaker, not able to dominate Paimon's spirit the way the demon can do to him. Paimon can (and has, often) just knock him right out. And up until now, maybe he's just kind of... let that happen. He's been afraid to confront this thing; as proven, whenever he tries, he usually ends up on the floor.

Peter's quiet for a few moments as he considers this. He seems reluctant to answer, uneasy, fidgeting a bit. He knows that learning how to communicate with this thing has been a looming prospect; he and Luna have talked about it before, how it could be good for them. But the thought is just... so unpleasant. )

...No, I uh— I never have. But I don't— I don't like talking to him. It's so weird.

( And creepy.... But it has meant that other people have had to act as translator between them. Namely, poor Luna.

Peter frowns again, trying to ignore the fact he can feel the freaky demon practically breathing up under his skin, eager to talk to Lysithea again. Wait your turn...! But something in him seems to deflate, and he shakes his head slowly, looking downcast and anxious, hand shaking a little where it's holding onto Lysithea's almost like a child would. It's... very easy for Peter to give up.... )

....He hates me. I don't think it'd even do any good.

(no subject)

notimeforfailure - 2022-01-20 02:22 (UTC) - Expand

Finally getting to backtags, apologies for the delay!! No worries if you prefer to let this go!

possessum - 2022-02-13 03:09 (UTC) - Expand

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