faderift | Open | I got a little raincloud, he's my best friend

Entry tags:

Open | I got a little raincloud, he's my best friend

WHO: Peter Parker and you!
WHAT: Peter Parker arrives in Thedas after his multiverse experiences and learns to begin again in a new world.
WHEN: Bloomingtide
WHERE: In and around the Gallows.
NOTES: Possible mentions of death, loss, grieving, etc. I'll add more if they come up.

I. Arrival – Post-Rift Journey to Kirkwall

Peter Parker probably doesn’t have any right to be surprised when he finds that he’s fallen out of a dream in which he was forced to climb up the walls of his high school gym (again), uniform and all, and into another universe, and yet, here he is. He doesn’t expect the empty coffee cup, exactly the same kind used by MJ and the coffee shop she works at, and the Lego Palpatine figurine to follow him, either, and yet.

The rift through the air being green is a change of pace, at least. The demons he helps fight with the group of people calling themselves Riftwatch are also a kind of breath of fresh air, in a way. The ones that appear to be made out of lava and the ones that look like Dementors are definitely not the best to fight against in gym clothes though, oof, he thinks. He’s lucky he doesn’t end up significantly injured, though he can’t seem to stop shivering.

His luck proves not all terrible, as the members of Riftwatch explain to him that they aren’t too far from the city of Kirkwall, where their group operates

“And you guys can get me some new clothes in…was it Kirkwall, you said?” Peter asks, turning to the nearest member of Riftwatch, both genuinely curious and also trying not to think too much about the way his body still seems to be shifting between hot and cold after closing the rift.

II. Taking Notes and Quarantine

As Riftwatch helps Peter learn about this Thedas, the world he finds himself in, Peter finds himself fascinated. He wants to know more, to learn more, and he wants to study and immerse himself in this strange, kind of medieval universe. He can help people here; he can do good after messing up so badly in his own world.

He’ll have to be careful, he realizes, about using his abilities here. He doesn’t want to put people in danger just from knowing him again, after all. Still, Peter finds himself eager and ready to throw himself into Riftwatch; when they make the pitch to him about joining, he doesn’t hesitate. It seems only fair, after all, given how much they’ve already helped him.

Peter signs up for Research, though he’s sorely tempted by the Scouting Division, too. But he needs to pace himself; recent events back home have taught him that. And Research seems as good a place as any to start.

Peter sets himself to work; he finds a spot for himself in the library and surrounds himself with books of all kinds, both for his work in Research and to help himself learn more about Thedas. He’s determined to do better here; he has to, he tells himself. His growling stomach sometimes is the only reminder he listens to when he needs to eat.

As he’s quarantined within the Gallows for the time being, Peter takes to exploring all that he can of the place when he has the chance. He is fascinated by the laboratories and work rooms in the same tower as the library, and he asks questions of anyone who will humor him. He takes to walking around the open spaces of the Gallows as well, observing the areas for training and sparring. If he wants to be more active out in the field, he thinks, he should probably learn how to fight with the weapons Thedas has available. He’s particularly interested by the archers, and the way using bows and arrows reminds him, from a certain angle, of using his webs, though he’s also well aware that they’re entirely different skill sets.

Peter keeps to himself when he eats in the dining hall, tucked away in a corner, usually with his own notes. He’s trying to keep a record of his experiences in Thedas so far, for his own reference. It can’t hurt, he thinks.

When he isn’t studying, working, or observing, Peter tries to create and stick with an exercise routine for himself, to keep his body as sharp as his mind. He can be found in and around the sparring area, out of the way of people sparring, stretching and working out as best he can.

III. Wildcard

[If there’s anything specific you’d like to do with Peter, just let me know and I can put up a starter in the comments, or feel free to put up your own starter if you like!]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Yeah, then you'll stop looking like a rifter and start looking like you borrowed your mom's credit card at a renne faire." This somehow manages to be both an insult to Peter and an insult to, like... Thedas. And it's not even totally true; in Clarisse's opinion, rifters never really... stop looking like rifters. She definitely doesn't think she looks like she was born here, no matter how much she dresses the part, and figures she probably never will.

But anyway, just in case talking about credit cards wasn't enough, Clarisse flashes him a glimpse of her palm—there's an anchor shard, same as his, embedded in it.

"Almost a year now," she says.

Peter's been called worse; 'Penis Parker' echoes in the back of his mind and he makes a mental note to try and make sure he never accidentally says that particular insult out loud. He shrugs, shaking his head. "Well, as long as I blend in more than I currently do, I think I can deal with looking like I've walked out of a dungeons and dragons session."

And as long as he can grab clothing that lets him not freeze his ass off, he'll count that as a win too. He could use one or two of those lately.

He glances down at her palm when she shows him her anchor shard, noting that it looks exactly the same as his.

"And have you...gotten used to it? Being here, I mean?"

The answer to that question is... weirdly complicated. Clarisse frowns, looking him over again.

"You've been here half a day and you already want to know when you'll get used to being here?"

She just doesn't get how somebody could fall through a hole in the sky and end up in another universe and not be mad about it.

She fought being here for weeks, basically refused to change out of her stupid hoodie and gym shorts and still sleeps in them, and is still only friends with like two and a half people. If someone showed up and offered her some foolproof way of getting back home, only a few very specific things would make her hesitate.

The fact that this skinny guy is handling it far better than she did kind of pisses her off.

Peter shrugs. Given the weird twists and turns his life has taken, falling through a rift and into another world seems par for the course when he thinks about it.

"Yeah? I know it seems weird, but." He shrugs again. "This is like, not entirely one of the weirdest things that's happened to me. I guess I'd just like to be prepared. I take it I shouldn't expect to be going home any time soon." He assumes, at least. But hey, maybe not. He does wonder if this is part of the multiverse, or if it's something else altogether. But that's definitely not a question he's going to ask out loud. He probably already seems strange enough as it is.

"I mean, I could still be in shock, I guess," he adds. He wouldn't be surprised if all of this catches up with him later. That tends to happen, usually at especially inconvenient moments in his life.

"No, not anytime soon," Clarisse tells him flatly. "Like not ever."

So they say. And sometimes rifters do disappear, but who knows what happens to them when they do? It could be like blinking out of existence, or lying in some limbo state without any awareness. Even Cosima doesn't know for sure, and she left and came back at some point later.

She doesn't say it out loud, but she suspects he's right that this will all catch up with him at some point later. It did for her, too. She's used to plenty of weird shit, but nothing hits quite the same way as realizing that you can't go home, no matter how much you beg and pray and fight.

"Well, hey, at least I already know now, right? So I can't be disappointed later," Peter says. He hears MJ in his thoughts as he talks about disappointment, and he tries to ignore the ache in his chest as he thinks of her back home. It's probably both a blessing and a curse that he can't go and see her at the coffee shop now.

Peter was already starting to build a new life for himself back home. Now, it seems, he has to start over again here. He can manage, he tells himself. At least this is a whole new life experience, he thinks.

"Do you...get used to being stuck here?" He asks a moment later, a bit quiet. "Even though you can't leave?"

Clarisse shrugs a shoulder. She remembers years ago when she first got to camp, how weird it felt, and lonely, and disorienting. Nothing was familiar, and she had to stop and think about where she wanted to go or she'd get lost—and then one day, and she's not sure when, it had stopped feeling strange and started feeling like she belonged there. And being in Riftwatch is kind of like that now. It started off with her feeling like she was stuck in a total fucking nightmare, but it seems very normal to her now.

She's not saying she wouldn't go home if she had the chance, but.

"Live anywhere long enough and you get used to it."

Peter nods. That's a fair assessment, he thinks. He doesn't remember living with his parents; he lost them young enough that he barely remembers their faces, let alone the house they lived in. He remembers more clearly living with Aunt May and Uncle Ben, and the way that, wherever they lived, May and Ben always made it feel like home for Peter. He'd just moved into his own place back home, his new apartment. But he's still settling in, so finding himself away from it, as strange as this all is, isn't as devastating as the gradual loss of his family over time.

"Make the best with what you have," he says. "This place seems...well. I guess there's a lot I've got to learn, right? Learning is always a good distraction."

And a good way of making a new home, he thinks.

"If that's what you're into."

Obviously, you can't end up stuck in some other universe without learning about it, but for Clarisse it's not an active process like it is for some people. People who are more inclined to study things until they understand them, not crash into them until one or the other breaks apart. People who presumably were never told that information is useless if it doesn't help you fight.

"Clarisse La Rue," she says, finally introducing herself. "I'm in Forces."

"Peter Parker," Peter says, hesitating a moment to wonder if people still shake hands before extending his hand to Clarissa. "It's nice to meet you. What is Forces, if you don't mind me asking?"

He wonders how much he has to catch up on here. Forces sounds interesting, if it has anything to do with fighting. He wonders if Forces deals with the demons that came out of the rift with him.

He also wonders how much longer he has before the shock of it all sets in; he expects his luck, brittle at the best of times, is on thin ice, so to speak.

There's a moment of awkward hesitation, and then she reaches out to shake his hand. Her grip is firm, but she doesn't linger.

"Forces is the division that takes care of the most obvious stuff you think of when you think about a war. We do security, take care of the weapons and armor, do any heavy lifting that needs to be done, and obviously we're part of any armed conflict Riftwatch gets involved with."

Clarisse just... looks like she should be in Forces, if anyone should. She's tall, with broad shoulders and visible scars on the bare sections of her arms and a sort of steely, permanent look of suspicion on her face.

"There are three other divisions," she adds. "Scouting, Research, and Diplomacy."

He's surprised that she takes his hand to shake it at all, so the quickness of it barely registers.

He nods as she explains Forces. Honestly, she looks like she belongs in Forces, given how much she seems like a soldier. She seems like she takes no shit from anyone, which is badass. From what she describes, Forces sounds like it covers a wide range, too. He's tempted, he realizes. If he's going to be stuck here, he might as well try and do good. Signing up for Forces would allow him to be proactive; throw himself onto the frontlines.

But, he realizes, in a life made up of poor life choices and rash decisions, signing up for Forces when he's trying to keep his abilities under wraps would be the biggest mistake he could make. He should probably dream smaller.

He listens as she describes the three other divisions. Scouting and Research both seem to have promise; Peter likes to think he's self-aware enough to realize that Diplomacy would be a disaster for him.

"Do the different divisions work together too? Like, would someone in Research ever need to accompany Forces for a mission?"

Clarisse shrugs, but after a second, she admits, "Sure. All the divisions have some overlap. If you're looking for something where you get to do some of everything, Scouting is probably your best bet."

But, no offense, from what she's seeing of Peter right now, she's not sure she could imagine him in Scouting. Then again, maybe he's only playing a role by acting all earnest and inquisitive, in which case he'd be great at it.

"But you'll figure out where you belong," she adds, "once we're back in the Gallows. Then you can see how everyone works."

Peter nods. Scouting. He'll remember that. It's a cool word, scouting. And a little bit of everything? That sounds pretty awesome to Peter. But, again, he tells himself, he needs to slow his roll. He needs to at least figure out how his powers are affected here, and ways he can avoid revealing them unless absolutely necessary.

"Good to know," he nods again. "And thanks for answering my questions. I appreciate it. Wait, did you say the Gallows?"

That sounds like...well. Not great, he thinks. It sounds super not great. But maybe it's just a place with a scary and unfortunate name. He hopes.

"Yeah," Clarisse says, sounding embarrassed, "whatever."

Don't thank her for spitting straight facts, jeez. Moving on.

"The Gallows is where Riftwatch is based. It's on this little island outside Kirkwall. Used to be a prison, but they fixed it up."

Peter's reminded of MJ in the way Clarisse says 'whatever,' and that makes him smile, though he manages to bite it back.

"Good to know," he says. It makes sense that Riftwatch has a base of operations. "So it's where Riftwatch operates? It used to be a prison and now people work there?"

'The Gallows' seems unnecessarily ominous as a name, but considering it used to be a prison, Peter guesses it makes sense.

Her eyes narrow. Is this guy, like... making fun of her? She genuinely can't tell, but in Clarisse's case that's as good as a "yes."

"You heard me," Clarisse says. She stands a little taller. "Any other questions?"

Peter sees her eyes narrow and he wonders if something he said caught her attention in a negative way. He also wonders if he should like, ask about it, or if that would just irritate her more, and he doesn't want to do that, since she's been patient and answering his questions. If he's put his foot in his mouth less than an hour after being here, at the rate he's going, Peter can't say he'd be surprised.

When she asks if he has any other questions, Peter shakes his head. And then he realizes, oh crap, actually, no. He actually does have other questions. But he manages to restrain himself.

"Well, I have a lot of questions but I can probably look up the answers to some of them when we get to the Gallows," he says. "The only other one I have for right now is do you know how far we are from the Gallows? I'd just like to get a general idea of how far we have to travel."

Well... okay, fine, she can answer one more question.

"It's not far."

Clarisse turns and points in the vague direction of Kirkwall and, just beyond it, the Gallows. "Should be less than a day by horse. Right, Bizkit?"

The horse she's been cleaning up snorts and shakes her head as if in answer.

"Griffons would be much faster," Clarisse adds. "But fewer people can ride them. They're picky as hell."

"Okay," Peter says, with a nod. "Thank you. Less than a day's ride doesn't seem too bad." Of course, Peter doesn't really have that much experience horseback riding, so that will be its own kind of new adventure.

He considers her horse, named Bizkit, apparently. But any observations about her horse fade into the background when she mentions griffons. Peter's eyes widen.

"There are griffons here? Whoa! That's so cool!"

He can't help his excitement; if he's going to be stuck in a new world, at least there are magical creatures.

Yeah, yeah, they're really cool. (They are, actually.)

"I'm gonna take it that you don't have animals like that where you're from," Clarisse observes. He sounds like a kid who just rolled up to camp and found out there are pegasi in the stables and nymphs in the trees. Did Clarisse ever say that shit when she was new? She can't remember.

"Not griffons, no," Peter says. But he does still remember his own experiences with mythological sorts of animals, how once Valkyrie flew with him and the Infinity Stone Gauntlet with her magic horse as they tried to keep said gauntlet from Thanos. "But we have flying horses. Or, well, the Asgardians have flying horses."

And it still doesn't get old for Peter, he believes. Finding and experiencing something new and magical. Even as he might be wary of magic after that spell he botched with Strange, Peter can't help but still be curious and eager to learn more about what he doesn't know.

"Yeah," Clarisse says, leaning back against Limp Bizkit's side and reaching a hand up to stroke the horse's neck, "we have those too where I'm from. Pegasi."

She doesn't know what the hell an Asgardian is, but a flying horse is a flying horse, right?

"That's really cool," Peter says, watching her pet her horse. He always wished he got more of a chance to see those flying horses up close. Well, he thinks, maybe he can eventually get to see the griffons up close. That's definitely something to look forward to, in all of this craziness, at least.

"Did you get to ride a Pegasus?"

It's another question, but Peter is genuinely curious. The world she comes from seems fascinating to him.

"Sure. I rode them sometimes. My best friend? She was the best pegasi rider we had." Clarisse waves her free hand in the air, sort of dismissive—Silena would kill her, but she never thought the pegasi were all that cool. "It was never my specialty or anything, though. I mostly rode regular horses on the ground."

Well, for Clarisse, 'regular horses' means, like... the skeletal ones they used for chariot racing, or the flaming ones that pulled her dad's war chariot. But they couldn't fly, so aside from being weird-looking, they seemed regular to her.

"The griffons can be temperamental, but if they get to know you, one might let you ride it eventually. In the meantime, Ellie, she's the griffon keeper, I bet she'd take you up."

Open | I got a little raincloud, he's my best friend

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)