2_old_for_this | MCA, Apartment -2

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MCA, Apartment -2

There had been a bat in the apartment since Wednesday. At the moment, it was hanging from the doorframe to Peter's room.

And then Peter was upside-down in the doorway, tumbling to the ground before he could adjust to it, and yelling briefly, startled.

He sat there for a moment blinking, readjusting his brain to more sentient standards.

Well, that had happened.

[Post open to the roomie or anyone who wants to call, text, or drop by.]

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Seivarden had been wondering where that bat had come from, as well as why her roommate had disappeared. She had thought Peter the kind of person to let her know if he were leaving, but then, she had reminded herself, that was just an assumption.

Being on her own hadn't been a good thing. The restlessness had grown worse, and the emotions that kef normally dampened sometimes felt overwhelming.

Taking a walk in the park hadn't improved things.

Sitting on the couch when she heard the yell, she looked up.

"Peter?"

Peter rubbed his eyes and cleared his throat. "Yeah. Hi."

[Sorry for late!]

Seivarden pushed herself up off the couch and slowly walked over to Peter's door.

"I thought you had gone... somewhere," she said, trying not to sound as if she hadn't been wondering why Peter hadn't told her.

Edited 2017-10-19 10:45 (UTC)

"I...no." Peter looked up at her, running a hand through her hair. "That was one of the island's things, I think."

Seivarden still hadn't figured out the part about the transformation.

"No?"

Actually, she couldn't come up with any reason that Peter should suddenly out of nowhere appear naked in his room.

"It likes to play with people." Peter sighed and stood, then craned his neck from side to side. "Apparently it decided to make me a bat for a few days."

By now, Seivarden trusted Peter not to tease her about her ignorance of this place, and she had come across a small monster in the park that was supposedly a person most of the time.

"So, the island turned you into a bat?" She repeated, trying out putting that into words herself.

"Apparently," Peter agreed. "If I'd turned myself into one, I'd still have my mind intact. This was more like actually being one, not just being shaped like one."

"Do you do that... often?" Seivarden asked. "Turn into a bat?"

If Peter did, she preferred to know.

Peter gave her a flat look. "I'm a shapeshifter. I turn into a lot of things. But I usually still think like myself and turn back when I need to."

"So I shouldn't be concerned when that happens?"

Seivarden had no idea how she managed to sound as if this was something reasonably normal.

Then something struck her.

"Wait. Can this happen to anyone?"

"From what I've heard, yeah," Peter answered. "One of my friends turned into a cat once, and radio's talked about others."

"I think I might have met someone who had turned into some kind of cat monster the other day."

That was less worrying that the possibility of her turning into something.

"So, that... could happen to me? I mean, possibly?"

"Yes," Peter answered. "The island regularly changes people into other things. Other genders, other versions of themselves, animals." He shrugged.

"Oh fuck."

Seivarden shook her head. "I really wish I could leave."

She added: "Not that I don't appreciate staying here, and you've been very kind to me, but this place... It's..."

She didn't really know how to finish that sentence.

"It's got a few quirks," Peter said. He shrugged. "It's still a good place to be."

He felt obliged to stick up for Fandom after the last place he'd gotten stuck.

"Compared to what?"

Seivarden would still prefer being stuck on some uncivilized planet where she could find kef and forget about everything.

"Compared to Hell." Peter smiled wryly. "Which seems to be faint praise, but compared to my home...people here are a lot more accepting. I might even stay here if I didn't have friends I need to get back to."

And if he weren't a total white knight that needed to fight all his world's ills.

"I don't know where Hell is," Seivarden replied, "But if people are more accepting here than there, then I'm really sorry for you. I find most people here quite rude and hostile. Someone even set their pet -- or friend -- after me the other day!"

She was upset, not just about this, but about her whole situation. She crossed her arms to stop fidgeting.

Peter blinked. "Why?"

Sorry, Seivarden; everybody had a reason. Maybe a shitty one, but a reason.

"I don't know! She took offence at my opinions." Seivarden hadn't bothered to consider which pronoun she was supposed to use.

Rather than going off on a rant about this, though, she added: "But perhaps I should let you get dressed."

Peter never wore gloves, and seeing him naked wasn't much of a difference, but Seivarden realized she should give him the opportunity to put some clothes on. She was making an effort around him.

"Oh, yeah." Peter didn't exactly feel the cold, but yeah, clothes were polite. "When I change on my own, my clothes come with me."

He turned and went into his room to get dressed, but called back, "Was it the gloves thing again?"

Hey, Peter liked Seivarden well enough, but she could get a bit stuffy about some things.

She was so fed up with the reaction to the gloves thing.

"We talked about where we are from, and she assumed the Radch is the same as some empire from her world," Seivarden called back. "And then she got quite angry and set her friend who was an animal chasing me."

Seivarden also hadn't bothered with the pronoun.

"A lot of empires aren't too friendly," Peter said. He buttoned his shirt as he came back out. "People get hurt. Though I guess setting an animal on you is a bit extreme."

"I made it clear it wasn't the same kind of empire," Seivarden replied, snorting.

Although it hadn't necessarily been easy to interpret it that way.

"I guess they didn't get the message," Peter said. "Sometimes when you're used to one thing, it's hard to see it as anything else."

And yes, he meant both Seivarden and whoever she'd pissed off.

After a moment of silence, Seivarden said: "I suppose you have a point. Anyway, I'm glad you're back. As yourself, I mean."

"Me too." Peter grinned crookedly. "That was just weird. Also I'm starving."

There hadn't been a lot of blood he could get to. He was heading to the fridge now.

"There is still plenty of your drink in the fridge. Obviously."

Peter probably knew that, and it wasn't like Seivarden was going to drink it.

"I figured, but thanks." Peter got a few bottles of TruBlood out and opened and finished one quickly, only slowing down a little for the second.

"Did you have any problems other than that?" he asked. "Any issues with the apartment or flower shop?"

"No," Seivarden said. "Although... I might have broken a cup or two, but you don't use them anyway, so..."

She made a gesture with her hand.

Peter shrugged. "I can get some more before the next movie night."

Though how someone managed to break more than one cup in a week... "Should I stick with plastic?"

"No, no, not plastic," Seivarden assured Peter, before adding:

"Movie night?"

"Sometimes I have folks over to watch movies. Anyone from the building," Peter said. "I get to meet the neighbors, and we get to try and find something to watch that shows us a bit about modern culture and isn't too traumatic."

No children's movies ever again. Ever.

"It's usually pretty fun."

"Movies? I'm not sure I know what they are, but I assume some kind of entertainments?"

Seivarden now couldn't help wondering what they were like.

"That sounds enjoyable. What do you mean by traumatic though?"

"Oh, yeah." Peter nodded. "Moving pictures. We watch on the TV." He waved at the thing that...probably hadn't been on since Seivarden moved in, come to think of it. "But some of us have...prior traumas. Bad memories that get set off by the things in them. We've had mixed luck avoiding those."

Seivarden hadn't been curious enough to explore the technology, although she might just have been introduced to the best form of distraction available here.

"Do you share the same kind of... bad memories then? Of course, I don't know what kind of stories are popular here."

"I've got a thousand years of bad memories, and a lot more of war and things I'm not happy about," Peter said.

"All kinds of stories are popular, but we try and stay away from anything involving war or fighting."

Seivarden herself didn't feel quite like that about her military past, but is wasn't like she didn't know of others who had. As for other bad memories, that was none of her business. While she doubted her own situation would come up in any story, she knew she would have to deal with things like losing everything. That was part of many dramas, after all. Still, a 'movie night' sounded pleasant.

"Lighthearted things, then?"

"Lighthearted things," Peter agreed. "We try, anyway. Some things are unexpectedly heavy."

"Unexpectedly?" Seivarden asked.

"Well, we don't always know exactly what's in a movie before we watch it," Peter said. "Sometimes there's violence or other things you wouldn't expect. But we make do. There's usually enough people to talk to if someone doesn't like what's on the screen."

"What kind of 'movies' are popular here?" Seivarden asked, really having no idea.

Peter shrugged. "See for yourself." He picked up the remote and turned the TV on; it was still pulling up Netflix from the last time. "You can browse through things with the buttons like this. It'll show you summaries of what things are; watch whatever you like."

"Oh." There should be something interesting enough, even if it was only interesting enough to complain about.

"Can I have a look?" Seivarden asked, holding out a hand for the remote.

"Sure," Peter said. "Whenever you like. This is the button to turn it on, or off when you're done."

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MCA, Apartment -2

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