🦅 🦅 🦅

[grice]

Who: falco grice, others, and you!
What: a catch all for the month including a player plot, general prompts and event prompts in the comments, all open!
When: december; date will be in the header if any!
Where: waves hands at too many places

Content Warnings: possession, violence, gore, self harm, child death, war imagery, child soldiers, racial oppression, genocide, forced experimentation, torture, mutilation, gun violence (against children)


see below for open prompts of all kinds! if you have any questions or would like to plot something specific, hmu at liberos!

Comments

cw: my death (also mention of racial persecution)

[grice]

[ falco inhales, holds his breath and hardly lets it escape as peter adjusts his actions to an answer that speaks for itself. he’s never done this, asked to be hugged like an actual child that he may sometimes forget he is. peter’s shaky exhale makes the boy’s quaking more violent, but it’s clear by the silence and gentle jerks from his chest that he’s still trying hard not to make any sound that appears inhumane or suffering. the way his tears now pour, the way he simply disappears under such slender and inviting arms gives way for the reason why the gesture has caused hiccuping, a wet nose and face nestled at the start of the elder boy’s shoulder: he is receiving comfort beyond what he’s imagine capable of someone from the outside of his circle of loved ones, when he’s from a world where strangers spit on him in the street for having been born.

he cries more because he’s happy to have met peter, and to be with him now— in the cold, on the beach, under an enchanted, warming blanket, with little fingers squeezing fabric and applying pressure to the strongest hugs he could return. he’s only ever hugged his brother the same way. ]

Thank you— [ it’s all a hush, wet as he snorted enough inward to clear his airways, to speak coherently despite the tiny pulls his chest made for air. ] W-we’ll help, each other—

[ anything that peter would need, any help, any safety, protection, baked goods, falco has already imprinted his terrible sacrificial streak upon him. at this point, for better or worse— he’d do anything for peter graham. because peter graham was doing far more than everything falco had wished for in a person outside of the gates surrounding his home. ]

[possessum]

ooc — Finally getting to these delicious backtags, MY APOLOGIES for the slow No worries at all if you prefer to wrap here / handwave Falco telling Peter things, or continue it out, I'm here for anything!!

( Truly, Peter has so little experience with hugging anyone this way. What he'd always known, and grown how to get used to, was a detachment. (His mother, flinching away from being too close to her son, trying to pretend like there was nothing wrong about that fact. His father, who would at least touch Peter, but only ever with one-armed hugs, an affection that was clinical.)

Even Charlie wasn't an affectionate sort — his little sister, always separated from everyone by some unseen veil. She never really reached out to him for hugs, never really seemed to crave them. Except for that final night, when Peter had been reminded of just how small and young she was. Standing in the doorframe, come to find her brother, afraid. Small arms wrapped around his neck as he'd carried her.

It's Luna who's really been teaching him how to be close to someone this way. Luna, who knows what's so wrong in him and reaches for him anyway, with no reservations, no fright. It's how Peter hugs the younger boy now, not closing himself off at all from him. He know what it is, to need to be held like that. )

We will— ( He affirms, voice breaking a little at the ends, crumbling inwards. The fact that this crying child, even now, is offering to help him, too... Peter moves a shaky hand up into the back of Falco's hair, gently. The way Luna holds him sometimes, with fingertips gently rubbing soothingly against the scalp, petting gestures. )

Do you want to tell me? Everything that— that happened? How it happened? ( He doesn't have to, he doesn't have to say anything more at all. But if he does... Peter will listen. )

[grice]

( ooc; no worries friend! i think we can wrap the rest off with a handwaved convo because it’s a lot of baggage, if that’s okay! 💛 )

[ everything that happened—? falco sniffs into the crook of peter’s shoulder and refuses to let go of him for just a few moments more, small hands clinging to the fabric of clothes and a warming blanket. it’s when he feels the safest that he’d give everything for, peter would not be different. when he moves to inch himself away, the boy still remains close, within a distance of touch. his hands no longer squeeze the elder boy’s back or neck, but he does seek to lean on him, with his knees propped up into a short bend, to facilitate. ]

. . . Since the beginning?

[ falco pauses, and soon his hesitation dissipates; it’s a story with many pages. he’ll tell peter about the island he once woke up on— South Sister— surrounded by a worldwide mass of the thing within him. how he got infected (which led to a short explanation of what it meant to be eldian, and what abilities he’d inherited), a demonstration to help scout the island with a leadering adult caused a sudden onset of bodily possession, and from there— the mark of a double, back to back S remains on the back of his neck, a brand that hissed toward everyone: we’re here.

whether it’s a mistake or not, falco even writes the thing’s name in the sand and has peter promise not to say it out loud: the silence. it does not speak to him. it’s quiet, for the time being. but it’s always watching, and becoming influenced is just a matter of being at the wrong place at the wrong time.

he’s attacked people, even before such an episode that’s happened here; he knows what this fear is like, if peter shares it. they could share a lot, here, the most they’ve ever. ]