[open, multiple threads wanted] offer up a song i was made to play
[As a note, this is all happening before this thread, which only promises to be horrible.]
Soon as it's light enough to see, Peter heads out, wrapped up nice and warm. After rummaging through the smithy a bit, he'd managed to find a good axe - slightly rusty, but still usable - so he heads over to one of the cabins damaged beyond repair (or at least so far gone repair isn't worth it anymore). Without any preliminaries, he starts chopping down the door, walls, and any furniture inside beyond saving into kindling. ...What? He's not going to go out in the woods and start playing lumberjack. He's not completely out of his mind yet.
After getting a few nice-sized piles set up at his and Neal's cabin - enough to see them through a while with extra to spare if someone needs it - Peter rounds up a good amount of glass shards out of the library and heads out of the barracks. Sticking close to the wall, he walks down to the stream. Brushing off snow to grab some grass beside it, he gingerly takes the first piece out, grabs a rock, and starts methodically blunting the edges. Nill might not be living with them anymore (and he doesn't care about that, nope, not one bit), but he still doesn't want her playing with razor-sharp glass for lack of anything else. Once he's done, he'll deliver them to her new cabin.
Done with that, and faced with nothing much else to do, Peter heads up to the ramparts. Neal's not the only one getting antsy with being stuck in this place - he just hides it better. Or at least he thinks he does. Walking around, he stares out into the woods with his Sig Sauer loosened and at the ready. Sure, it doesn't do that much against what he's seen so far, but considering it's better than nothing. Of course, he spends just as much time flipping through the black compass, muttering to himself and leaving heated messages. "Nathan, you annoying little jackass, this is the tenth time I've called you today. I swear to god, if I find out you're out somewhere screwing around, I will beat you so hard you'll wish you were only black and blue." Slamming the button to turn it off, he glares out at the trees before trying to find the foul-mouthed little felon on the map again.
Once he's (relatively) sure that Neal's asleep, Peter eases out of his cot, grabs his coat, and sneaks out the door. He doesn't go too far - just enough so that he's out of the way, but still close enough to the cabin just in case of... Something. He grabs a spare log from the woodpile and grabs himself a seat, shifting slightly as he fishes his wallet out of a pocket. Flipping it open with a quiet sigh, he picks out a small photo of El. Careful to handle it around the edges - which are already worn from being held too often on late nights like this - he smiles back at his celluloid spouse. The smile's almost as worn as the picture, but no one's around to see that.
"...Hey. I know it's been a while since the last time I got you out of there, but. Things have been busy." A quiet snort. "Not that that's any change since we first showed up here. And yes, it's still mostly Neal. Shock, I know." He rubs the back of his neck and the wryness goes out of the smile until all that's left is a frown, and worry-lines that have gotten so much more pronounced than they were six months ago. "That Gala thing... I screwed up, and even if we're going around pretending things are fine, I know they're not, and I don't have the first damned clue what to do to fix it."
A few moments' pause as he looks down at her. "Nill's off with that weirdo albino guy and his angry girlfriend. She seems to know them, and she was happy to go, and I know it's not as if I never see her around the place, but. It's not the same. Cabin seems a whole lot emptier for losing such a tiny girl. And now I'm sure that Nathan has just... Up and vanished." He swallows, running a hand through his hair, vaguely noting it's getting pretty shaggy in the back. "He's not anywhere on the map, which means he's either managed to get pulled back to wherever he came from in the first place, or... I don't even want to th-"
Nathan. Tommy. Aisling. Who's going to be next? He takes a deep breath, and his voice is a little tighter when he goes on.
"God, I. I just wish I was home. With you, and Satch, even though by now you'd probably kill me the second you saw me for making you worry so much." He stops himself there, refusing to let himself whine anymore. It won't change anything, so it's nothing to bother about - they'll find a way out eventually. They will. So he carefully tucks the small picture back into his wallet. "Night, hon. ...I love you."
Soon as it's light enough to see, Peter heads out, wrapped up nice and warm. After rummaging through the smithy a bit, he'd managed to find a good axe - slightly rusty, but still usable - so he heads over to one of the cabins damaged beyond repair (or at least so far gone repair isn't worth it anymore). Without any preliminaries, he starts chopping down the door, walls, and any furniture inside beyond saving into kindling. ...What? He's not going to go out in the woods and start playing lumberjack. He's not completely out of his mind yet.
After getting a few nice-sized piles set up at his and Neal's cabin - enough to see them through a while with extra to spare if someone needs it - Peter rounds up a good amount of glass shards out of the library and heads out of the barracks. Sticking close to the wall, he walks down to the stream. Brushing off snow to grab some grass beside it, he gingerly takes the first piece out, grabs a rock, and starts methodically blunting the edges. Nill might not be living with them anymore (and he doesn't care about that, nope, not one bit), but he still doesn't want her playing with razor-sharp glass for lack of anything else. Once he's done, he'll deliver them to her new cabin.
Done with that, and faced with nothing much else to do, Peter heads up to the ramparts. Neal's not the only one getting antsy with being stuck in this place - he just hides it better. Or at least he thinks he does. Walking around, he stares out into the woods with his Sig Sauer loosened and at the ready. Sure, it doesn't do that much against what he's seen so far, but considering it's better than nothing. Of course, he spends just as much time flipping through the black compass, muttering to himself and leaving heated messages. "Nathan, you annoying little jackass, this is the tenth time I've called you today. I swear to god, if I find out you're out somewhere screwing around, I will beat you so hard you'll wish you were only black and blue." Slamming the button to turn it off, he glares out at the trees before trying to find the foul-mouthed little felon on the map again.
Once he's (relatively) sure that Neal's asleep, Peter eases out of his cot, grabs his coat, and sneaks out the door. He doesn't go too far - just enough so that he's out of the way, but still close enough to the cabin just in case of... Something. He grabs a spare log from the woodpile and grabs himself a seat, shifting slightly as he fishes his wallet out of a pocket. Flipping it open with a quiet sigh, he picks out a small photo of El. Careful to handle it around the edges - which are already worn from being held too often on late nights like this - he smiles back at his celluloid spouse. The smile's almost as worn as the picture, but no one's around to see that.
"...Hey. I know it's been a while since the last time I got you out of there, but. Things have been busy." A quiet snort. "Not that that's any change since we first showed up here. And yes, it's still mostly Neal. Shock, I know." He rubs the back of his neck and the wryness goes out of the smile until all that's left is a frown, and worry-lines that have gotten so much more pronounced than they were six months ago. "That Gala thing... I screwed up, and even if we're going around pretending things are fine, I know they're not, and I don't have the first damned clue what to do to fix it."
A few moments' pause as he looks down at her. "Nill's off with that weirdo albino guy and his angry girlfriend. She seems to know them, and she was happy to go, and I know it's not as if I never see her around the place, but. It's not the same. Cabin seems a whole lot emptier for losing such a tiny girl. And now I'm sure that Nathan has just... Up and vanished." He swallows, running a hand through his hair, vaguely noting it's getting pretty shaggy in the back. "He's not anywhere on the map, which means he's either managed to get pulled back to wherever he came from in the first place, or... I don't even want to th-"
Nathan. Tommy. Aisling. Who's going to be next? He takes a deep breath, and his voice is a little tighter when he goes on.
"God, I. I just wish I was home. With you, and Satch, even though by now you'd probably kill me the second you saw me for making you worry so much." He stops himself there, refusing to let himself whine anymore. It won't change anything, so it's nothing to bother about - they'll find a way out eventually. They will. So he carefully tucks the small picture back into his wallet. "Night, hon. ...I love you."