Remember Me [Peter is not exactly averse to physical contact. If anything, he'd say that he rather liked it. He's just not had much chance to indulge recently what with being a monstrosity and everything that had come after that. And since then, well, he's still a little skittish.
But a brush of hands is hardly an uncommon occurrence. If he'd known, he'd probably have worn gloves.
There's fear. Most of all, there is always fear. Overwhelming and crushing and twisting. He doesn't think he's ever not been scared. There's pain too, blood and screaming and teeth, ripping and tearing and devouring and leaving him rotting and hollow. There's fire through his brain through his body, ripping his mind apart and that's it! That has to be it right? The end! He welcomes it! Finally!
And her. Always her. Save the world sure. But saving her. Earning a shred of forgiveness.]
Pass the turkey
I didn't think it was Christmas yet and- what is this? Where are the sprouts? Not that I care, they're vile, but it's tradition.
[Despite his grousing, Peter is happily filling a plate with as much as he thinks he can stuff into his face. He'd never been allowed this much when he'd been a child; Christmas had been a miserable affair, and as an adult he'd never- it would have gone against every single diet and a protein shake with chia seeds just wasn't as satisfying.
And then the world had ended and well, he might need a second plate.]
Peter 'Dr Necropolis' Lynne | Zombies, Run!
[Peter is not exactly averse to physical contact. If anything, he'd say that he rather liked it. He's just not had much chance to indulge recently what with being a monstrosity and everything that had come after that. And since then, well, he's still a little skittish.
But a brush of hands is hardly an uncommon occurrence. If he'd known, he'd probably have worn gloves.
There's fear. Most of all, there is always fear. Overwhelming and crushing and twisting. He doesn't think he's ever not been scared. There's pain too, blood and screaming and teeth, ripping and tearing and devouring and leaving him rotting and hollow. There's fire through his brain through his body, ripping his mind apart and that's it! That has to be it right? The end! He welcomes it! Finally!
And her. Always her. Save the world sure. But saving her. Earning a shred of forgiveness.]
Pass the turkey
I didn't think it was Christmas yet and- what is this? Where are the sprouts? Not that I care, they're vile, but it's tradition.
[Despite his grousing, Peter is happily filling a plate with as much as he thinks he can stuff into his face. He'd never been allowed this much when he'd been a child; Christmas had been a miserable affair, and as an adult he'd never- it would have gone against every single diet and a protein shake with chia seeds just wasn't as satisfying.
And then the world had ended and well, he might need a second plate.]