#peter itoos

[ophiuchus-interactive]

Yessir, That's Our Kitty

A look into how Annie came to be the ship's (beloved) cat!

It began with leftover scraps of fish.

There was nothing more than bits and slivers of old fish meat clinging to the milky-white bone. It hung off the cooked carcass haphazardly, as most of the flesh had already been eaten, and picked clean.

Valerian's callused fingertips held the softened tip of the fish's fin, holding it out to a ball of white, featureless fur.

It was midnight, and neither him nor Peter have gotten any sleep. They landed on Hycena with the full intention of recruiting a doctor and engineer he knew...only to be roped into some other, more pressing matters.

And they were exhausted.

"Val, feedin' strays means we'd have to bring them with us," Peter chides softly, his head coming to rest against the stone-gray boards of the inn they just ate at. Peter wished nothing more than for soft sheets and a warm bed, and a bath.

Please Val, I want a bath.

"Nuh uh," Valerian whispered back, not bothering to meet Peter's gaze and instead only edging closer to the tufts of white fur (where in the hell is its face?), determined to offer it food.

Scraps of food, but food nonetheless.

"Val..." Peter repeats, his eyes slamming shut from annoyance- why does he even bother sometimes?

"Ah, Peter, c'mon- just look at her! It's midnight and she's all alone-"

"-you don't even know if its a she- or what the hell it is, really-"

"- and probably starving, c'mon Pete-"

"- The innkeeper will kick us out of the damn room if we take it with us, and I need clean sheets. I demand it."

"And you'll get 'em, but I'm taking her with me," Valerian insists, his tone that of a finality that Peter knows is useless to push. Peter sighs, and runs his hand over his face before pushing himself off the wall, shoving his hands into his pockets as he spoke,

"Fine, but don't come crying to me if you have to end up sleeping in the ship because the innkeeper is bustin' your chops over...whatever that is. Is it a cat?"

Valerian nods, "Probably, hasn't shown her face yet. Or maybe it has?"

"Just..." Peter shakes his head, "what're you going to do with it?"

Mrew?

It happened suddenly, the way the head popped out of the tufts of fur. The round face of a cat, though marred by its matted fur and dirty whiskers, came into view. Its blue eyes flashed in the moonlight before growing dark and wide, focusing solely on the fish that Valerian held in his hand.

Both Valerian and Peter went still, an urgent, beckoning quietness taking over as the small, yet fluffy cat sniffed the fish's bones with its bright, pink nose.

Mrew.

The cat slowly began to lick the fish scraps, careful to avoid Valerian's fingertips as it practically picked the rest of the fish clean.

There was a melody of patrons that were muffled by the walls of the inn, resonating to the dark alley in which Valerian, the cat, and Peter reside. It mixed and mingled with the soft purring of the cat, seemingly very happy to have a meal in its belly for once.

Valerian laughed, and Peter sighed- and he knew there and then that maybe, just maybe, he wouldn't be getting his warm, clean sheets for the night.

But with the look on that cat's face? He was strangely okay with that.

[ophiuchus-interactive]

To Do What Must Be Done (Major Angst)

Angst ask 😅 what if the MC is tortured to get information out of RO? 👀👀 who breaks and spills despite the MC telling them not to, who stays strong ?

(Reminder: This scenario is not canon, obviously, but consider it a...'what if?' of sorts)

One would think to hate the screams.

Peter did, at first- any sane person would. The echoing, reverberating sound of your agony, of the excruciating pain that turned every plea of mercy into an unintelligible sound of horror. Of course Peter hated the screams.

But in the silence of the night, the haunting hours before dawn, the minutes that stretched themselves thin in the day- it was those moments that Peter would come to hate the most; to fear.

Because in the silence there was death- the threatening quiet of eternal slumber never far away. Was this it? Did he fail to save you?

...and then the screams would start again, and he’d recognize your wailing from anywhere, and he’d cry from relief instead of horror.

But the scariest part- the scariest part about the silence was the echoes of his own screams, of bargains met upon deaf ears. He promised his captors treachery, of guiltless murder so long as you were spared- you. That’s all that mattered-

The plans.

The gauntlet.

The Cheyenne.

Valerian.

His friends.

- just let the silence end.

Peter doesn't mind your screams so much anymore.

“I hear you’ve changed your mind on things?”

Peter shivered in the darkness of his prison, saying nothing. The Commander stood before him almost patiently, the air full of a smugness Peter had forgotten existed.

“I-” Peter heaves, a choked cough stunning his lungs from responding. It takes him a moment to recover, tasting his blood in his mouth as he spoke, “-I want to see them, first,”

“You’ll get to see them after you tell me the location of your ship and crew, and not a moment before,” The Commander says, the harshness of his tone betraying the catlike-grin that’s visible through the mask on his face, “not that you’ll be able to recognize them, of course. Some punishments were...a tad more violent, than others.”

Peter expected such a thing- though tears still pricked his eyes, his heart still hammering wildly against his chest as his mind conjured all sorts of terrible, horrific images of your state that he couldn’t bear to hold back his sobs anymore.

Tears poured down his cheeks, a wail clawed at his throat- there was no amount of reasoning with his heart that could keep Peter from saving them, even if it means death.

Forgive me.

"Where..." Peter hissed through his tears, "...where should I begin?"

The Commander laughed, and Peter closed his eyes- the faces of his friends flashing in his mind, before landing on you.

You.

Only you.

"From the beginning, Peter- tell me everything."

[ophiuchus-interactive]

Sneak peek to torture ask featuring Peter tomorrow!

Under the cut!

But the scariest part- the scariest part about the silence was the echoes of his own screams, of bargains met upon deaf ears. He promised his captors treachery, of guiltless murder so long as you were spared- you. That’s all that mattered-

The plans.

The gauntlet.

The Cheyenne.

Valerian.

His friends.

- just let the silence end.

[ophiuchus-interactive]

For Death- Or rather (Peter)

(TW: Death)

“I’d like to work with horses, I think.”

Peter looked at Julian, his eyes still squinting at the sun’s rays that poured through his poorly crafted, straw hat. Julian always went back and forth on what he wanted to do when he got better, and for today, he wanted to work with animals.

Peter smiled at that.

“They’re noble animals,” Peter commented, his fingers strumming through the long stalks of straw in his hand. All around him and Julian were acres and acres of carmel-colored grain, shining in the midday sun. Above the two brothers was a cloudless sky, a deep blue; it would’ve been outright beautiful, save for the late heat of summer that still pestered them so long into the fall. They paid the heat little mind.

Julian hums in response, his eyes closing as he rests his head against the tree that was to his back. For a brief moment as Peter watched, he felt hopeful for Julian’s frail state- Julian looked less bothered by the pain that permanently sat in his lungs. He looked as if he didn't need to struggle to breathe.

“They’re beautiful creatures- strong, loyal. I could spend hours in the stables, if it wasn’t for all the dust. You’d think Mother could let me ride one down the trails one of these days?”

“I don’t see why not,” Peter says optimistically, though he could picture the look of horror on his mother’s face now, “Micah’s mare is as slow as molasses, you could probably take hers for the day. She’s too busy being sweet on Diane to really care,”

Julian grins, “Micah likes Diane? I thought that was the girl who dipped Micah’s pigtails in ink,”

“It is,” Peter chuckles, “I guess Micah found that as a sign of affection. Frieda’s trying her best to talk her out of it, but no such luck yet,”

“A shame,” Julian says with a laugh, though it quickly turned to a wheeze. Peter’s jaw tensed in worry as Julian began to hack and cough harshly again- something that has been coming up more and more frequently these last few weeks.

Peter grabs for the canteen at his side, handing it wordlessly over to Julian who accepts it with a nod of gratitude. Julian uncaps the canteen and swallows down half its contents before his coughing subsides, his eyes reddened from the strain.

“-Wasn’t so bad,” Julian manages, swallowing down the water that seemed to drown his throat. He handed it back to Peter, “it’s over. I’m okay,”

“I know,” Peter lies, because Julian did so, too, “I know,”

“I don’t want to go back yet, okay?” Julian insists, resting back onto the tree, “I just...want to nap here, I think. I’m tired of my bed.”

Julian rests his head back against the tree once more, his hands folded perfectly over his slowly rising, and falling chest. The sun beat down through the green and yellow leaves, casting light where the shade was absent. Beneath his brother’s feet was a blanket, old and red from ages ago, cushioning himself against the ground.

There was a serenity there. A peace that Peter hadn’t seen a long, long while.

“Hey, Pete, wake me up when it’s time to go, ok?”

Peter nodded, stretching his own body against the grass and the ground. The sun was warm. Not a cloud in the sky,

“Okay.”

And the brothers slept, and dreamt.

And Peter would wake to the evening sun and the breeze stroking the fields of grass, alone.

[ophiuchus-interactive]

Artbreeder portraits (Updated 6/5/21)

Here are the romance options’ portraits. A reminder that this is also a sci-fi story, and there are three specific characters that have very specific features that cannot be shown with Artbreeder. These characters are:

- Thane: Thane is half-Kal’morra, a semi-aquatic alien race that has features such as: scales, gills. Thane has such features, these are not shown with the portrait.

- Ophelia: Ophelia is a Harpii, a warrior-bird race of people. She has feathers, sharpened teeth, and bird-esque eyes. These are not shown in the portrait. 

- ????????????????????: Due to spoilers, I won’t go into the reasons as to why this is not exact, but I can assure you that this is closest I can get to what they look like in my mind. 

And now, without further ado, the Artbreeder portraits for the main cast of ITOOS:

Valerian Jameson Polk

Peter Emerson Hughs

Rosalie Bernadetta Choy

Ophelia

Thane Karr’al-Cyrc

Sergio DeLuca

Javier Ortega

????????????????????????????????

Hawkeye (Male)

Hawkeye (Female)

[ophiuchus-interactive]

Soft facts about the ROs

I've not written much today because I've been feeling...terribly off. I get these days occasionally, this terrible feeling of dread and sadness. I have medication for it, but I think we all know that even our best days with our medication and therapy can't quiet "fix" our worst days.

So for that reason, I'll be listing out some 'soft' facts about the romance options in hopes of getting out of this slump.

Valerian

- prefers tea over coffee. Rose tea is his favorite.

- has the urge of petting any and all animals he sees on sight. Doesn't matter how nasty or dangerous looking the animals are, he wants to pet them

- shines his shoes and, when possible, irons his clothing. takes great care of them. makes him feel like he can wear them

Peter

- Lives on coffee exclusively. please get him some water.

- is the mother hen, "have you eaten?" "get off of there, you'll hurt yourself!" "i made cookies!"

- writes poetry. badly. very badly. don't ask him to recite your poetry. please.

Rosalie

- Learned how to make eggs "the right way". "The right way", she was taught, was burning them. She ate burnt eggs for ten years. Peter was mortified.

- Loves bubble baths, and will sell every single one of her crew members out for a freestanding bathtub.

- Once cried for thirty minutes straight because they rode past a town that featured, quote, "the universe's smallest pony". Valerian said they didn't have time to see it, Rosalie cried, and Thane about ended Valerian's life over it.

Ophelia

- still has her stuffed animal from her childhood. It is a klaxir, a lizard on her homeworld that spits acid and is capable of swallowing men whole. depictions of a klaxir on children's bedposts and as stuffed toys are said to ward off bad dreams.

- attempted to spar with Rosalie in the training room, thinking this would create a bond between the two of them. Rosalie was surprised when, upon being invited to the "girls night out", she was hit in the face with a bo staff. Ophelia promptly apologized for the confusion and left the room.

- was once caught with her hand stuck in the cookie jar. Ophelia swore Thane to secrecy, much to Thane's amusement. He never mentioned it to anyone.

Javier

- Has the terrible habit of walking out of his room in his underwear. You're not home, Javier, please put a shirt on.

- Has a bet with peter going involving how many times thane hits his head on the low-hanging entrance to the Cheyenne. Peter has the number of 35, Javier has the number of 28. So far, Thane's at 16.

- is allergic to a Kal'Morran fruit called 'graelo', but loves it because it "tastes exactly like candy". Thane has forbidden Javier from going to the market with Peter because Peter always relents on getting the fruit, and Javier always winds up in the medical room.

Thane

- Has hit his head on the entrance to the Cheyenne a total of 40 times. Neither Javier nor Peter know, and he prefers to keep it that way. No, Valerian will not be making an upgrade to the ship.

- Secretly into trashy romance novels. He wants love too, okay?

- has yet to tell Peter that the coffee he drinks is actually decaffeinated. Thane switched it out after listening to Peter's heartbeat during one checkup. The irregular beat to Peter's heart that day still gives Thane nightmares.

Sergio

- Plays music from his hometown when he gets homesick

- Is actually very good friends with Ophelia, and will spend time with her discussing literature.

-Shares trashy romance novels with thane. It's about the one thing the two can agree on. Gotta get your smut from somewhere.

????/Hope

- No understanding of how doors nowadays function. They run into them, send help

- Loves birds. Begged the captain for a pet bird, but Valerian said no- not because Valerian didn't want the bird on board, but because Annie (the cat) will eat it. He knows this from experience

- is intimidated by stoves. if you see them staring at the one in the mess hall, turn the other direction.

[ophiuchus-interactive]

Tilt it up, so the luck won't run out

A snippet of a conversation that occurred between Valerian and Peter.

Peter was a farrier for a few years before Valerian convinced him to join the Council of Interplanetary Systems' Marshals. Was horseshoeing always Peter's trade? No. It was not.

“It pays well,” Valerian said, gulping down the last of his water from his canteen. It tasted like sweat and sand, “c’mon, Pete, the hell else are you gonna do for the rest of your life? Hammer nails into horseshoes until you die or your fingers fall off?”

“You joke,” Peter says with mirth, looking up to his dear friend with a small smile to his lips, “but farriers last longer than sheriffs. If I die it’ll be by a horse’s ass at sixty, not chasing down some kid who thinks he’s tough shit ‘cause he got hold of a gun,”

Valerian sighs, kicking his feet up onto the old, wooden table that separated the two friends, creaking under the weight of his muddy, iron-toed boots,

“You’re a straight shot. You don’t flinch under pressure. You can calm people down with yer talkin’, and face it, Pete, you hate being here.”

“Come with me,” Valerian continues, “Come with me and I’ll show you the ropes and we’ll put bastards away for good. Makes more of a difference than taking nails out of muddy shoes, don’t it?”

“Depends on the rider,”

“Pete-”

“I heard ya the first time, Valerian,” Peter uses his full name to punctuate his sentence, a slight edge to his tone, “you’re...you’re serious, going after those Regulator bastards, aren’t ya?”

“Not just them, Pete, anybody- anybody who thinks they can play God and get away with it. Don’t you hate it too?”

“Don’t you hate it too?”

[ophiuchus-interactive]

Oh Brother, Where art thou?

I'm feeling melancholic today. Have some sadness, featuring Peter.

"-And um, Val came by today. Asked again if I'd join him,"

Peter perched his head back against the pale white bark of the tree, gazing at the light that shone between the branches like little, fluttering stars. The wind was warm. It was summer.

"I told him I'd think about it," Peter continued, "like I do every other time. I think I really mean it this time 'round, though."

He waited in silence for a few minutes, his face morphing and twisting into a thoughtful frown, as if listening to a reply that was not- presently- there.

"-I know," Peter says, his eyes turn toward the tombstone, "I know, I told him as much too- dying ain't something I'm real fond of, even if it means I could..." He hesitates, clearing his throat, "even if it means I could see you again,"

"But I'm not afraid of that," He adds, though Peter turns his gaze away from the tombstone as he says it, "and I promised you. I mean to keep it."

The summer breeze whistled through the air. The daffodils in the tall, green grass kept Peter company. Silence, as it has been for three years now, seemed akin to being a friend.

"I miss you," Peter says quietly, "and I...I won't be able to see you, for awhile. A real long while."

He laughs, the sound choked as it danced in the air, "Mother'll be furious, but I don't think I care."

Peter looks toward Julian's headstone finally, his eyes tracing he engraving carved into the white stone. It was spotless, not a speck of dirt in sight.

"Maybe I'll be something you can be proud of."