Room 318, Monday Morning
Maybe the rest of the island had picked last night to celebrate and then sleep straight through the night, but not Peter. Peter had been up, watching the marvel that was his network coming back to life: eventually he'd color-coded his contacts and pulled a bunch of them up on the display just so he could enjoy the beautiful sight that was all those little flat blue lines flaring back into frenzied activity.
He had spent the last few weeks feeling completely out of control, and that was something he didn't deal well with. Now, his fingers itched with the power restored to him, raring to do something.
Certainly, time had stood still. But that didn't mean he hadn't been hip-deep in projects when it stopped. And if exercising his newly recovered power meant missing a few more hours of sleep, well, he was willing to deal with the sleep deprivation.
The universe might have been saved, but the world needed Peter Wiggin more than ever.
[[ open post, closed door. the exact nature of his communications is NFB, everything else isn't. ]]
He had spent the last few weeks feeling completely out of control, and that was something he didn't deal well with. Now, his fingers itched with the power restored to him, raring to do something.
Certainly, time had stood still. But that didn't mean he hadn't been hip-deep in projects when it stopped. And if exercising his newly recovered power meant missing a few more hours of sleep, well, he was willing to deal with the sleep deprivation.
The universe might have been saved, but the world needed Peter Wiggin more than ever.
[[ open post, closed door. the exact nature of his communications is NFB, everything else isn't. ]]