"It's raspberry. Lemonade." Peter holds the glass above his head, its rim catching the light dramatically. The pink liquid glints under the gleam of the overhead lamp. "Who the fuck's got a problem with that?"
@doefated / starter call.
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"It's raspberry. Lemonade." Peter holds the glass above his head, its rim catching the light dramatically. The pink liquid glints under the gleam of the overhead lamp. "Who the fuck's got a problem with that?"
@doefated / starter call.
"This quarry's pretty steep..." It's one of their usual escapades; Jennifer behind the wheel while he idled in the passenger side, thinking of all the places he'd rather be occupying than his sinking ship of a brain. In a selfish sort of way, Peter is grateful for her suffering; he dreads the thought of being in a world without at least one person who can understand a fraction of what he's been through.
Hell if he himself can understand it.
"You're not gonna convince me to jump off of here, Jen. Shit's at least a twenty foot drop. Don't even try."
@devilscheck / starter call.
@onlyheartaches sacrificed: “ ... That’s some pretty realistic makeup ... are you sure you’re not hurt? “ Angel Gabby
Peter grins, giving the angel a thumbs up.
"Okay, well it is real blood," he admits, the edges of his smile becoming cheeky. There's a small smear of red at the corner of his lips; the result of a minor nick with his razor the morning before. For the sake of the holiday season, he'd elected to open the small cut on purpose in order to pull his costume together that little bit more.
His mother wouldn't get him fake blood, so he has to make do this way instead.
@cinemachaos sacrificed: getting snowed in (with dani maybe? I think they'd get along!)
Perhaps if he wasn't so familiar with exits being just out of reach, he'd be much more concerned about the fact that the front door to their cabin won't open. At the very least, there's a tangible reason for its refusal to open this time; a mountain of white powder sitting stubbornly in front of the worn wood like an inappropriately placed doorstop.
Peter raises a hand to his head, his fingers burying in unkempt tresses as he tries to blink sleep from his eyes. Snowed in, huh? Guess there's no choice but to wait.
"Uh… looks like we're staying put," he says, turning to Dani with a surprisingly calm look on his face. After all the neuroticism he's displayed since coming out here with her, one would think that he'd be more worried. "There's a bunch of snow blocking the way. We'll have to wait for it to melt some before we can force the door open."
The chill begins to eat through his hoodie, arms wrapping tightly around himself. After yielding to a shudder, Peter hurriedly darts back to the blanket he'd slept with and wraps it tight around his shoulders.
"Help me get a fire going, yeah? We should have some leftover firewood from last night…"