Comments | justdoingmyjob: take my picture, 'cause I won't remember. [action]

justdoingmyjob

take my picture, 'cause I won't remember. [action]

Mar 05, 1999 01:45

Comments 72

it feels like you would let yourself work it out treadingdawn March 22 2009, 22:36:11 UTC

Caspian has another five minutes to make it to his next class. Dressed in uniform now because it has been a few weeks into the term, his tie sort of flaps along as he jogs own the hall, having been delayed by checking his silly phone thing for messages. A text from Zach, a text from Claire, a text from Zach to Claire through Caspian to text back to Claire when she could probably just say it to Zach. Say what? Well they're probably in different rooms right now which is no excuse, and yet serves every excuse for Caspian to check his own messages, none of which come from one Peter Pevensie. It has only been weeks, maybe this Jack has yet to break a leg or something. Nevermind. He continues down the hall and makes a quick turn around the next corner without looking.

it feels like you would let yourself work it out justdoingmyjob March 22 2009, 22:46:08 UTC

The bell having rung, Peter Petrelli notices the people filing back and forth, notices the hallways emptying out relatively fast, notices that even though he has been here for over a week--he was late to get here after all--he still manages to get himself lost. Well, lost might not be the word for it. He knows where he is, or he would if he was paying any attention to where he's going, which he is, sort of, a little. Add to that little, however, that he walks without hesitation, as one in a hurry might, when he rounds the corner it should come as no surprise to anyone that it's an easy thing for him, running into this other person who seems to be just as aware of where he is headed ( ... )

it feels like you would let yourself work it out treadingdawn March 22 2009, 23:00:42 UTC

Oof! Caspian stumbles back and drops none of his own belongings as they're all in his shoulder bag. Unlike his public school friends he doesn't use a typical backpack which would probably prove itself far more efficient than this thing, but it's regulation. Seeing the folders fall to the floor he doesn't even think twice about their implication before bending down to help this stranger pick them up.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't looking where I was going. Here," he offers a folder to Peter. "You should hurry too or we'll be late for class, unless you have a free period," the brunette nods, assuming this new face is running errands for a teacher. It occurs to him then that this other person is a new face in a small student body. Is he a transfer student too? Like himself? The prospect of making a friend is almost too shiny to resist and in that same moment he realizes how sort of pathetic it is to get so excited over someone else's misery wanting company. Nevertheless he does remark, "I haven't seen you in any of my classes, and I ( ... )

it feels like you would let yourself work it out justdoingmyjob March 22 2009, 23:12:02 UTC

Having picked up all that he can reach before the student who stops to help has gotten the rest, Peter takes those too, but he does so graciously with a mild thanks or something that sort of meanders off as he realizes what this person is saying to him. To his credit, he doesn't sigh, but he does make a sort of face, one that could say well no but might also say and how young do YOU think I am and so on. This is the third time today he has been mistaken for a member of the student body rather than the staff, and while he doesn't mind too much it still does make him wonder. Is it the clothes? He knows he's dressed too casually for this place, probably, only with a light blue button down and black slacks. No tie, no jacket, nothing else, and his shoes are...sneakers. Yes, well, whatever. If they want a nurse as badly as they claim to, Peter is quite sure they can deal with him opting for comfortable footwear. It's habit. About to make the correction, to inform this person of exactly why he has not been seen in any of his many classes, ( ... )

Thread 17

the fates are vicious and they're cruel | you learn too late you've used two wishes like a fool treadingdawn March 26 2009, 05:22:05 UTC

Unlike other certain boys, Caspian has no intention nor any need of being sent to the hospital for his wounds. Really, neither did that other brat but money is money and some have an urge to burn it for petty reasons. He doesn't doubt that squealing sore loser Daniel "Dimp" Jenkins will have his family take action against Caspian, but what are they going to do? Buy his suspension (or expulsion) over a bruised face, a bloody nose, a chipped tooth, and torn sweaters? Trauma isn't even an issue. Dimp Jenkins prides himself on dragging his knuckles... it's when someone else drags his that it becomes A Problem. Whatever, Caspian cares not for how that boy sees to his injuries, non-lethal, non-permanently scarring injuries. As for his own, he limps to the nurse's office as firmly directed, escorted even by another teacher. His knuckles are scraped again and his right cheek is swollen. There's blood drying at the corner of his mouth and from his nose too but fortunately his isn't broken. The front of his uniform is bloodied, half ( ... )

the fates are vicious and they're cruel | you learn too late you've used two wishes like a fool justdoingmyjob March 26 2009, 06:09:07 UTC

One of the last people who should judge a person on impulses is Peter Petrelli. He has gotten in his fair share of scrapes, and not all of them the other person's fault. This is inclusive but not limited to punching his own brother in the face, but in Peter's opinion--and he loves Nathan more than almost anyone--his brother did deserve it at the time. Anyways, that's not the point here. He was already looking toward the door when the other brunette shuffled in and set his bag and books down, so when it becomes apparent that his current patient has no intention of making eye contact, Peter just sighs ( ... )

the fates are vicious and they're cruel | you learn too late you've used two wishes like a fool treadingdawn March 26 2009, 06:21:04 UTC

"Hello," says Caspian who has no brothers to speak of so his experience is very limited when it comes to family matters. That is, unfortunately, what sparked this scuffled but let's not get to that until we get to that.

The Telmarine takes a seat as directed, quiet and subdued. Maybe if he behaves well in the clinic Peter will put in a good word for Caspian when it's time to file that administrative report. Yes that's a good excuse for holding his tongue until asked. Even then, he is counting on the nurse not having to use a tongue depressor or something. The sound of the closet draws his gaze upward--no not for that reason, it's no grand wardrobe after all--but he doesn't meet the other brunette's gaze yet either. He only focuses on the shirts, knowing what they're for and the fact that he needs one. He will need a new tie too. What Caspian hopes most of all is that this doesn't reach his family back at home. It's a pity too because his uncle would celebrate such ferocity in the face of adversity.

the fates are vicious and they're cruel | you learn too late you've used two wishes like a fool justdoingmyjob March 26 2009, 06:39:35 UTC

"How are you feeling? Lightheaded? Anything? Normal?" he asks these systematically, allowing for a distance in order to begin walking closer, so to speak. He is well aware of what Caspian does not address and has no intent to push him for it. It's not his place nor his right, but he works at cleaning the bloodied knuckles with a care distinctive of someone who actually thinks this job matters, and as must be the connection, thinks those who walk through his door matter too ( ... )

Thread 19

hell is around the corner caughtthebullet April 25 2009, 08:25:38 UTC

With the rest of his team combing the roof tops and the skies (or hovering as Dan put it), Adrian Veidt has chosen to stay down on street level. This is where he sees the most opportunities, not for saving but for making... remaking his name. Escaped captives and people trying to hide from threats, those people will see the face of Ozymandias last and remember that these hands held up sanctuary. They used that motif on an African Famine Relief poster once. My how different things are in this world, but the underlying nature of humanity, of people remains the same, whether they're shinigami, mage, or deity alike. It's something few seem to realize, few save for Adrian and others like him, like Jon from time to time. Even he understands he can't change human nature. No, nature changes when a forceful hand changes the world around it. Adrian has proven this once. Perhaps if given the chance, he'll prove it twice ( ... )

hell is around the corner justdoingmyjob April 25 2009, 08:59:23 UTC

To say that he finds this to be a waste is an understatement. What can be said of Peter Petrelli's thoughts on the Major is much more widespread, if only in the realm of how ridiculous and stupid the whole thing is. Granted, people who are clearly insane do not have the best track record for the things that they do qualifying as anything but, still he finds himself unexpectedly angry. In a way, it's probably just part of what has been building up about home, about Claire coming back with gunfire at her heels and his own brother to thank for it, her father--biologically anyway ( ... )

hell is around the corner caughtthebullet April 25 2009, 09:34:19 UTC

He'd noticed the flash of someone teleporting into the immediate vicinity. Briefly he'd thought maybe it was Dr. Manhattan, coming in late to save the day (as usual). Only a second glance told him what he needed to know; Peter Petrelli was on the move and had just entered this city block nearest the zeppelin's current destination. Perfect. So he waited for the hero's return. On the meantime a clean break happens between the second vampire's jaws. It's messy work but nothing he can't handle. Adrian has barely broken a sweat but that's hard to tell under the rain. He tips his head back to get blond hair out of his eyes just as Peter returns.

"Cleaning up," Adrian answers in his smooth, practiced American accent.

"Behind you," he warns just as a third vampire missing its legs raises a pistol from a distance of several yards to Peter's back. Apparently even horror movie extras resort to firearms when they have to. It pulls the trigger, giving a flash of brightness in the darkened streets.

hell is around the corner justdoingmyjob April 25 2009, 09:52:24 UTC

Adrian's voice settles itself well in the middle of a rainstorm for some reason, clear and easily audible for whatever reason ( ... )

Thread 12

we're half awake in a fake empire justdoingmyjob May 9 2009, 02:41:33 UTC

Three blues? Peter wonders a little at the price, but if Adrian Veidt has money to burn and he wants to support Blair's fundraiser, well, who is Peter to judge? At the appointed time, he shifts around in the first hall of the City library. Having arrived early, he spent some time getting lost in the stacks before returning to the front, not finding anything that particularly struck him, but then, he isn't really calm enough lately to sit down and read, so maybe it's all for the better his interest matches that inability. It occurs to him only now that Adrian spoke of Bubastis before, that night when all of that ridiculous mess was happening with the Major and everyone else. Why he forgot when speaking to the older man is simple enough--distraction--but far from an excuse and he hopes if Bubastis listens well then she will not be too offended at having been momentarily forgotten ( ... )

we're half awake in a fake empire caughtthebullet May 9 2009, 03:36:50 UTC

Distracted are we? The woman who does pass by isn't the last. Another lady walks by, her form sleek and perhaps you could say svelte. No heels click because she doesn't wear any, it makes the feet less silent, you know. Purple and lavender stripes ripple under moving muscles, then she sits beside Peter Petrelli, whether he wants her to or not. Bubastis is a better woman than any other in all definitions of the word. She is faster, deadlier, subtler, obedient. Her senses surpass all five that standard genetics allow in a person. Of course, standard genetics don't apply in her case. Her mouth parts in a yawn, baring ivory white teeth that taper into shamelessly threatening points, and her tongue stretches like she might be tasting the air. She tastes Peter Petrelli without even touching him. Tufts at the tips of her ears twitch and she waits patiently either for the brunette to notice or for a certain blond to make his appearance. She knows he will come when he wants to and it is her duty to stay with this one until he does ( ... )

we're half awake in a fake empire justdoingmyjob May 9 2009, 03:55:24 UTC

Peter notices her immediately upon approach, arching a brow but saying nothing at first while she situates herself beside him. He knows who it is and wonders how far ahead of Adrian she is. She feels and looks more animated than the usual cat, to say the least, and it feels a little insulting to think of the blond man as her owner or master, so Peter doesn't think of him as either, settling for the straightforward nature of a first and last name ( ... )

we're half awake in a fake empire caughtthebullet May 9 2009, 04:09:02 UTC

Ooh feel this rumbling reverberating from her throat? The larger-than-a-lynx lynx tilts her head against his head, enjoying the scratching and purring happily as most cats do, whether wild or domesticated. Genetically modified included. This lasts for a moment before she cranes her neck and leans forward to lick at Peter's nose. Her tongue is wide and flat, carrying the texture of sand paper, not that she needed this gesture to confirm his taste. It is confirmed however. Unlike most cats her mouth is very clean so worry not, Peter Petrelli. This doesn't change the fact that it's a bit more dog like than cat like to behave in such a way so Adrian announces his presence to her first ( ... )

Thread 18

split me wide open and look right inside | there's so many things that i tried to hide worksmart June 16 2009, 14:52:44 UTC

It seems the weekend had a touch of the Michael-J-Foxes about it for both of them, but it's Monday, and back to or from the future the city looks to have settled back into what passes for the status quo.

If Chase had been awake when Peter finally got in last night then he hadn't emerged from his room to acknowledge the fact, and he'd ducked out of the apartment early in the morning, not wanting to dissect two days worth of uncomfortable situations over cereal and juice. Ultimately, though, he's well enough aware that they're going to need to talk, so when he returns - late - it's with takeout for two and a vague optimism that he won't have to lose a roommate over this. He can't move back in with Cameron, he's only just started accumulating furniture of his own.

So he kicks the door shut, hangs his jacket, and calls along with the smell of Thai spices starting to permeate the apartment, "Peter. You home?"

split me wide open and look right inside | there's so many things that i tried to hide justdoingmyjob June 17 2009, 02:24:18 UTC

Between Claire being crazy and... Claire being crazy, Peter didn't really have a lot of time--any time--to worry about anything else, normal aged or otherwise. He doesn't remember how old he was supposed to be, that version of himself that he saw get shot--twice--in the head by his no longer blond and no longer loving niece, originally of Odessa background. To say he feels badly about the entire situation would be quite the understatement, and to say he thinks any explanation will fall short of the mark is utterly true, but none of this means he won't try anyway. Rather the opposite, he'll probably try harder, or that has been the plan since coming in too late and waking up the same way. This day of comparative normalcy has given him time to consider the many ways he might open this necessary conversation or set of conversations.

Somehow so and um seem to make it in there a great deal, and he knows that's nothing shy of pathetic. Yet, things like it's complicated and it's a long story feel under-formed and uncared for, phrases that ( ... )

split me wide open and look right inside | there's so many things that i tried to hide worksmart June 17 2009, 03:31:28 UTC

Of course the couch isn't offensive. After a long day the couch is practically a requirement; Chase doesn't think he could force his back into the stiff upright necessity for formal eating just now. Peter beats him there, Chase waylaid by stopping to unburden himself of the plastic carrier, spilling foil cartons and generic chopsticks out across the coffee table without thinking of niceties like plates, or mats. "Hope you're hungry. Otherwise I guess I just bought breakfast."

It's just an assortment of noodles, different ways, with a green salad on the side. Something for everyone, with any luck, if no favourites then nothing too offensive. He sits, snagging the nearest foil cube and peeling back its cardboard lid with a puff of fragrant steam. It's casual enough. Not like Peter's being called in for a lecture.

If only Chase knew how to phrase exactly what he does want to say. The business of snapping and aligning his chopsticks keeps him a minute, the first hunger satiating mouthfuls, a few more. But eventually someone has to say ( ... )

split me wide open and look right inside | there's so many things that i tried to hide justdoingmyjob June 17 2009, 21:22:19 UTC

That's one of the biggest problems here, at home, and everywhere else--or Peter would bet on it anyway--that of how much a person is welcome to know as opposed to how much a person needs to know, whether welcome or not. Half of the things he knows now he would have rather not known on levels of emotional capacity, of turning things over when so many foundations come up less as roses and more simply as lies. On that same matter, however, it would have been irresponsible for him to, if given an option for an off-switch, flick it down and never look back. Where do you draw the line though ( ... )

Thread 6