snowblindrpg | [log] Lean on me [closed]

Entry tags:

[log] Lean on me [closed]

Characters: The Sorcerer Not-Yet-Supreme, Star-Cat, Star-Lord, and the Librarian
Location: Building 318 and various
Date: Day 339-343
Summary: The visiting of Flynn Carsen to the clan of Snow.
Warnings: References to character death, drowning, blood (because this is a scary building), more CW's in ensuing threads.

318: The stench of blood is thick in this garage, with blood long-soaked into the concrete floor, staining nearly the entire expanse. There are empty wooden tables to be sat on if you would rather not sit on the floor, though they've all been flipped as if in anger. One of the tables has been broken into pieces and burned, and another has pieces missing as if someone had begun to break it into pieces but was interrupted. The whole place has a hostile air to it, and the walls sound like they're breathing at night. "ALPHONSE ELRIC, DAY TWO HUNDRED AND EIGHTY TWO, CONTACT @LELRIC FOR ANY ASSISTANCE." "ALPHONSE ELRIC, DAY TWO HUNDRED AND EIGHTY SIX, PLEASE CALL @LELRIC FOR ANY ASSISTANCE NEEDED." and "ALPHONSE ELRIC, DAY TWO HUNDRED AND EIGHTY EIGHT, FOR ANY ASSISTANCE PLEASE CONTACT @LELRIC ANY TIME." are written on one of the walls.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"It's a prison, a really bad prison, they don't play by the rules there, it's the kind of place people disappear and the guards look the other way." The burning wasn't so bad this time. "I know Rocket and Gamora--and Groot got me in there but y'know, we never woulda gotten together otherwise. Plus they had way worse crimes than me. Honestly, I woulda gotten out in a decent amount of time."

"Okay, yeah--I'm here to help you, dude. We need answers, and we can find answers. Whatever you need me to do." A nod.

Edited 2018-03-24 16:21 (UTC)

"I didn't know you actually did prison time." But another detail catches his eye as well. "So your record isn't that bad, huh?"

He leans forward suddenly, snapping his fingers as if he just came up with a new idea.

"Great! That's great, that will help a lot. I think I should run some tests. It's your body that's changing, sooo... we should really look into your body. I mean, I should really look into your body, for you."

Hello burning my old friend.

"Nah, there's some stuff I did that I was never charged for, 'course, but it's mostly for like, petty theft, robbery, that kind of thing. Oh, and 'criminal conspiracy' cause of the Ravagers. Nova Corps isn't too keen on space gangs. Oh, and I had a thing with this one Duchess and apparently it's against the law on their planet to hook up with royalty, who knew? It was her who approached me! But she was really nice, I still have her number, she calls sometimes."

He nods, he wants to help so much! He trusts you!

"Sure. Absolutely. Let's figure this thing out." Peter clasps his hands together. His body's changing? Well, that's terrifying, but they can figure this out!

A long pause. "Might wanna word that differently, bro."

Edited 2018-03-24 22:29 (UTC)

A pause on his end, too. "Yeah, I really should."

He shakes his head. "Anyway! Let's not waste any time, Stephen could be back here soon. First I need some hair. Maybe you've seen that on cop shows when you were back on Earth, but hair is really important when you run tests."

But he's actually too scared to approach Peter. What if he jumps him or worse, makes Flynn one of them? "... I have some shards, you can use that to cut it off." And, to lighten the mood, "You got into trouble for seducing a space Duchess. Now I've heard it all."

He actually hasn't. He needs to hear more. Any little or big detail could be important.

"But I can take off my shirt if you wanna see the lines?" Peter shrugs.

"Okay, sure! Shard it over, and I'll give you some hair." Makes sense to him!

There's a scoff. "She seduced me! Well, I mean--it's understandable, I'm a dashing, handsome outlaw, she's a Duchess, it's meant to be. But yeah, it's on my record. Pretty vindictive royal family she's got there. Nobody would have found out about it if that stupid butler didn't come wandering in that morning. You know how embarrassing it is to be arrested while trying to put your clothes back on? To be fair, I managed my pants before they hauled me off."

Edited 2018-03-24 23:04 (UTC)

Flynn shudders at the idea of coming face to face with more of the creepy lines but nods nevertheless. He's a scholar after all, he can't let personal feelings or fear get in the way of discovery. "Sure, that might help." Couldn't hurt to inspect more of that phenomenon up close.

At the thought of Peter getting arrested and hauled away while struggling to put up his his pants his eyebrows shoot up in amusement. "I'm happy for you. And the law enforcement that was involved."

He hands over one of the glass shards he keeps in his bag. "There you go. Careful, it's sharp."

Coming to think of it, it's very sharp...

“Okay.” Makes just as much sense as anything. Peter takes off his jacket, and pulls off his shirt, tossing it to the side. Even with his poor nutrition, he’s still got plenty of definition and he’s still a big guy, and the lightning-like red lines make their way across his arms and chest and back. There’s some old scars on his abdomen and chest, as well as the newer scars from what he’d recently done blatantly visible now on his arm. Names, the information from the Pit for House. Gamora. Stephen. Drax. Mantis. Groot. Rocket. Blue.

Flynn.

Peter’s too distracted to try to hide it, or maybe he just sees no point in it with his shirt off. He reaches over to take the glass shard, chatting away.

“Yeah, me too. They were jerks anyway, most of the people on that planet. That was my...jeez, how many times have I been arrested? I can’t remember. A lot. Life of a criminal, man. Ain’t so bad. Prison food sucks, though.”

A pause. “Sometimes though? I wonder what it’d be like if Yondu didn’t find me. If my mom—“ His voice hitched a little. “If I stayed on earth. I wouldn’t have become a criminal, I know that. Mom...she wouldn’t have been proud of what I became.”

He reaches up to slice off a couple locks of his curly hair. And then—

“Ow! Stupid glass—“

Peter’s thumb has a small cut on it, and he scowls as he tosses the hair and the shard down, and tends to his finger.

Edited 2018-03-25 08:44 (UTC)

Flynn is about to make a slightly awkward, slightly self-deprecating remark about shirtless Peter and his guns there but never gets around to do so because he suddenly comes face to face with the names sitting between the red lines. He stops and stares at the arm, his own name staring back at him from the scarred tissue like a mockery.

He feels light-headed all of a sudden, and scared, like this is something he doesn't want to ask, doesn't want to know about but he can't seem to stop himself. Doesn't want to stop himself.

"Do you regret it?"

He doesn't want to bring it up. He wouldn't bring it up with the real Peter but this isn't the real Peter, right? And the questions have been clawing at the back of Flynn's mind even before the whole ordeal with the red lines, embodiment of his incomprehension, of not understanding what Peter had done. Of the helpless anger that comes with someone else carving your name into their skin, and the hurt, and the childish impulse to stomp your feet because it's unfair, unfair, unfair. "Cutting your arm. Writing our names."

His eyes wander, coming to rest on the cut on Peter's hand. Of the blood trickling down his finger. Does the blood hold the answers? "What was it like?"

Do you regret it?

The question takes him completely off guard, and he just stares, a blank stare. His mouth goes dry, and he suddenly feels he should grab his crumpled up jacket and cover his arm. But he can't really move, he's just stunned, frozen by the compulsion to share, to find answers--

What was it like?

He wants to answer and he doesn't want to answer, but maybe it would give a clue. The red lines extend over the scars, maybe there was a reason.

"It's...complicated." He's not actually looking at Flynn right now, but it's hard to tell with how his eyes are blankly red. Why is his mouth so dry? "I do...regret it. But then again, I don't. Because if someday this saves lives, I can't regret it. But I hate the fact that the town is this bad that I had to resort to this."

There's a visible pause as he seems to be fighting with himself.

"It was horrible. Think of someone trying to do this to you..." he waves his other hand at his arm. "Feeling every cut, slowly, knowin' it won't end anytime soon until it's done. And then...and then it's worse, because it's you, man. You're making the cuts, you're overriding this...deep...instinct thing to protect yourself, and it's just...and it's still goin', and you're feeling sick from the pain, and there's blood dripping everywhere, and you can't stop, but you need to stop because there's something fighting, screaming in your head that no, no, stop this, but you can't stop because it might save your friends and this information is important. And then it's over and this guy you hate more than anyone else here helps you, and you've done him a solid and now you owe him songs and a favor and just...it's there now, this thing you've done to yourself and and you've endured someone slowly torturing you, but it's you. And you can't ever, ever take it back."

"And you can't ever, ever take it back."

Flynn is transfixed, still staring at the blood on Peter's hand and he feels the sick urge to reach out and squeeze out more and examine it, dissect everything until he gets his answers.

Another part of him wants to shake Peter because no, not this, not this, stop, stop talking to him, he doesn't want to hear this, doesn't want to know this. It's unfair to the real Peter and suddenly he feels a deflecting rage at the red-eyed impostor for sharing his best friend's secrets, for stealing them away. How dare he? Flynn has to take them back. All of them!

"You tortured yourself. You wanted to stop so bad and you couldn't."

He grabs Peter's wrist before he can stop the bleeding, eyes burning.

"Did you feel like you deserve it?"

The burning hits and it's terrible--Peter gasps, almost doubling over, squeezing his eyes shut. It hurt, it hurt and as he bares his soul it feels like something's ripped a piece away. Whatever it was, it's gone and as the pain subsides, he feels just that more hollow.

And then he grabs his wrist and--

Did you feel like you deserve it?

Don't ask him that, Flynn, please--Peter's red eyes widen, shining more they'd been a few minutes ago, and he shakes his head almost imperceptibly. Don't, please--

--what if, though? What if this was the key? They had to stop this. They had to do whatever it took to stop this. No matter what. His voice is hesitant, then grows stronger. Angrier.

"I failed Rocket. I got myself killed. I killed House and Wilson. I almost killed Stephen and Bucky. I've done terrible things in stuff that's never even happened yet, or will ever happen. I coulda killed you how many times now? I felt like I deserved it when it was happening. And look. Now? I'm the reason Blue is dead. So yeah. I feel like I deserve it. I do deserve it. My mistakes, can't erase them."

Edited 2018-03-25 23:09 (UTC)

The pained response makes him pause and this time the uncomfortable feeling is so strong Flynn almost recoils. He shouldn't ask this. He should never be asking this. He's hurting someone, causing them pain, and he's taking things that aren't his. It's wrong, everything about this is wrong and then he's taking another part-- He can feel it, stronger this time, and his mind struggles to rationalize away the agony he's being confronted with.

There's even an impulse to hug Peter and tell him it's okay – but then these eyes stare back up at Flynn and all the distrust and fear and paranoia flares up once more, drowning out the goodwill and the doubts.

"That's how you feel." His voice is quiet and-- sympathetic. He genuinely feels for Peter here. "Like you failed everybody. You feel like you deserve it."

Which was horrible. Which was why he would absolutely do anything to protect his friend. He feels so desperate about Peter's despair, and so angry.

"But you can help me fix this. We can fix this."

If Peter thought that last one was bad...

The tearing, the pain, the burning--he grimaces, he shuts his eyes and tries to barrel through it, he can't help but make another gasp of pain--

"...that pain's getting to be really a lot. Ow."

And another piece gone.

Such a ragged feeling in his soul.

They had to fix this before it got worse.

"We can fix this. I wanna fix it, I can help you." He sounds tired, but determined.

Another piece obtained for the greater good.

"Good! That's good. Because I really want you--" The real you. "-- to be safe."

Flynn looks down at Peter's hand, still caught in his grip. "I think the answer might be in your blood."

"My...blood?"

Peter looks down at his thumb, a single drop leaking down.

"I...I guess that makes sense. Nanomachines...DNA...You...think we should collect some? How much do you need?"

He wants to help! Even if this is kinda sketchy, but they got a one-up on this town. This time they can get ahead of it.

"I have a thermos, we can maybe fill the cup. Then I can examine it."

Nevermind that he has nothing to examine the blood with. Clearly he knows what he's doing, Peter. Flynn rummages through his bag and places the thermos on the table, unscrewing the top. But his eyes are drawn towards the container itself. Would a little cup really be enough?

"That's...okay, yeah, sure."

Seems legit. Peter reaches back down to gather up the hair he dropped and pushes it off to the side, and picks up the shard. Studying his arm a second, leans his elbow down on the table, and hesitates.

No, wait. No, this is too much like--

--he glances at his other arm, the scars staring back up at him.

Protect us.

He had to do it, he had to help Flynn figure this out and save everyone.

Peter plunges the shard into a visible vein on his right arm, blood immediately leaking out.

Flynn opens the thermos, putting the cup down, then looks back up at Peter.

"I can do it for y--" But Peter is way ahead of him and suddenly he cuts and then there's blood and at the sight Flynn winces back, overcome by a sinking feeling in his stomach and deep regret.

"Or- or that. Th-that works, too."

He carefully takes Peter's arm and places it above the cup, allowing the blood to drip into it.

"It's cool."

None of this is cool. This is galaxies away from cool.

Peter watches as Flynn takes his arm and puts it above the cup, as the blood drips steadily into it.

Drip drip drip drop--

A grim pitter-patter. Something goes slack in Peter's face, something that would look even more terribly disturbed if his eyes hadn't been covered in red.

Again. He'd hurt himself again. This just kept happening.

None of this is cool. Not even for Flynn, not even now.

He opens his mouth several times, trying to come up with something to say, with a response, but he can't.

"I'll-- I'll figure this out. I will. I promise."

"I know you can. I trust you, bro."

A wan smile, that doesn't hide the pain behind the red eyes.

This is wrong. This is so wrong.

Drip drop drip.

"Any theories so far?"

"I... yeah, I think it's..."

Drip drop drip.

"It's, um."

I trust you, bro.

"I think your... blood, it might be imbalanced and the lines, they kind of represent that, like... like blood poisoning and... and once I take a closer look at your blood I'll know what caused it."

"Blood poisoning? Yeah, y'know what? You might be right."

Drip drop drop.

"You see any difference? Maybe there's something in it." Yeah, like you don't even need a microscope, maybe. He doesn't really bother to ask how else is Flynn gonna study it. He trusts him. In his genius too, in his scientific expertise.

"I wonder what would have happened. If I was still on earth and they found out." He watches the drops, almost fixated. "Doctors, y'know? Tests. If they found out I was half-alien."

Edited 2018-04-03 04:56 (UTC)

"I'll... take a closer look once we collected enough."

Flynn stares at the blood, mesmerized and horrified and suddenly wishing he could just run away from the situation and this person who might not be Peter and who might not be a person at all.

"Is that a thing you think about a lot?"

"Okay." His tone suggests complete and utter trust, even if this did really hurt right now. He glances back up from the blood dripping to Flynn, his brows furrowing.

"...maybe not a lot, but sometimes. I really didn't find out that I was only half-Terran until after I met the Guardians. It's kind of...really scary when you think about it. I'm guessing earth technology's gotten better with, y'know, finding out about DNA and all that. Or maybe not and maybe they'd never find out. But what if they did? And I was just a kid and...I'd be locked up forever, right?"

A pause. "I've seen ET. Mom really didn't like that movie all that much. Now I know why."

Edited 2018-04-07 14:31 (UTC)

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cw self-harm

cw self-harm, torture, blood

cw self-harm, torture, blood

cw self-harm, torture, blood

cw self-harm, torture, blood

cw self-harm, torture, blood

cw self-harm, torture, blood

cw self-harm, torture, blood

cw self-harm, torture, blood

cw self-harm, torture, blood

cw self-harm, torture, blood

cw self-harm, torture, blood

cw self-harm, torture, blood

cw self-harm, torture, blood

cw self-harm, torture, blood

cw self-harm, torture, blood

cw self-harm, torture, blood

cw self-harm, torture, blood