The Things That Affect Us [Jersey]

[Peter Parkman]

--The following transcript was a live chat roleplay--

<Jersey> Telepathic Message: “If you could come get me after my shift is over, I’d really appreciate it. It has been a really…really strange evening.”

<Peter Parkman> The request doesn’t sit right with Peter. Of course, Jersey’s voice is always welcome in his head, but it was the variety of question that wasn’t as welcome. Where Jersey was concerned, there was a constant battle being waged between Peter’s heart and mind. She had his heart, and his heart would give up all its metaphorical life to keep Jersey happy and safe. But the heart, metaphorical or otherwise, had nothing to do with the mind. And Peter’s mind, these nights, wanted structure. Only structure, and nothing. Emotion didn’t affect structure. It worried Peter, for several reasons.

One, he did not like the way his mind rebelled against going to collect Jersey simply because it would be doing something that was against the pre-set structure. Two – if he let that mind, and the notion of complete structure take him over completely, what would he be capable of? What immoral acts could he commit simply because they suited the structure? To keep it safe? To what lengths would he go?

But he had not reached that point yet. Hadn’t, because his heart still held some sway. The strength of his emotions still, to a point, allowed him to overthrow the structure and step outside of the boundaries of the chains that he had set up for himself. He knew what time Jersey finished; he didn’t reply to her, didn’t text her or call her. Only ended up at the shop half an hour before her shift was set to end. His face was stone, a twitch in the corner of his eye; but he was there, lingering, circling, hands clasped behind his back. Waiting.


<Jersey> She felt guilty due to her request, knowing that he liked to keep his schedules a certain way because of his OCD as she continued to work after meeting the strange Meluiwen. The girl had thrown her off completely, the way she had acted and spoke of a grandmother that loved Jersey – for all she knew, all of her family was dead and so was she. She had no past, really. At least that was how she viewed it as she waited for her shift to end. The way the girl had spoken to the doll, and then seemed to struggle with a name had made the blonde uncomfortable – did she know something Jersey didn’t?

That had been the question rolling through her mind right up until the point where she saw Peter, relief playing across her features as she gave a weak smile and tried to keep her distress off her features. “Thank you.” She spoke into his mind, wondering if she would sound as anxious as she felt while turning her attention to a college boy wearing a polo tee-shirt and jeans. When his friend made an offhand comment about her being pretty, there was no playful remark in return as she usually would, just a simple, “My boyfriend is right over there” that had all of it end quickly.

When the last of the customers were finished and their purchases made, Jersey waved at Peter as her co-worker entered and the brunette greeted her brightly. Quickly and quietly, she begun to go through her closing details and the woman laughed, asking if she was in a hurry. “I just kind of want to get home, I’ll tell you about it tomorrow.” The edited version after she had the perspective of two people she cared for the most to help her make sense of things.



<Peter Parkman> Of course he heard the boys at the counter; he could hear everything in the shop, in the minutest detail. As soon as one of them even tried to hit on Jersey, he had whirled around to level the intruder with a stony glare. The youth didn’t try anything beyond the first quip, and Peter relaxed, somewhat, only as he left the shop. He tried not to look at the products on the shelves after a while – he stared at his feet as he circled the room, and only looked up again when he knew that Jersey was ready to go.

He lingered, until Jersey was released. And as soon as she was released he had his arm over her shoulder and was brushing a kiss to her temple. Because at least holding her, and feeling the solid presence beside him, he could give his heart greater strength over his mind, and steady himself.


<Jersey> Her green eyes would move to the man every now and then, watching him in amusement before she decided against telling him that he was doing her job for her. It would only allow her to get out faster, and give them time to get home faster as she waited for her shift to end. She wouldn’t admit that his reaction had made her feel better, that she hadn’t reacted too badly about him siring a girl as she simply shook her head and chuckled. Despite the little things that made her have some amount of cheerfulness, when Jersey finished counting money and went to collect her bag, she tried not to shudder as she passed the scents she had sold to the girl.

Uneasy. That was the best way to describe it and she waved to her co-worker just before she greeted Peter fully. “All done.” She gave a small smile, leaning up to press a kiss to his jaw and relaxing into his side as she closed her eyes for a moment. Her arm curled around his waist, pressing her bag between them before she readjusted it to sit on her other side and repeated the action. “I wondered what you’d do if that ever happened.” She chuckled and then fell quiet, leading him out of the shop. It was a rare time that she wasn’t talking a mile a minute, her thoughts distracting her from the surrounding conversations while she listened for his voice if he chose to speak.


<Peter Parkman> Peter had idly put the spare boxes and bottles on the counter. He figured the next person on shift could put them away – and though he didn’t like leaving them there, a disgruntled mess, as soon as they were out of the shop it was easier to put them out of his mind. One hand nestled deep into his pocket while the other remained wrapped around Jersey; the hidden hand had curled into a subconscious fist. The only outward clue that he was still a mess of knots on the inside, all the tiny little molecules in his body going at each other with swords and clubs. At first he blinked, and had no idea what Jersey was talking about. And then it occurred to him – the flirting boy. He blinked again, and shrugged.

“I’m … it’s fine, you’re a beautiful woman, it’s bound to happen,” he said. He wasn’t going to pronounce a death sentence, not out loud. He knew how unreasonable jealousy could be, just like he knew how unreasonable his OCD could be, too. It didn’t mean there weren’t solid consequences for it. But he wouldn’t have Jersey thinking he was unstable in more ways than one. It’s not what they were going to talk about, anyway.

“So what happened tonight?” he asked. There was a reason Jersey had asked Peter to collect her. She was rattled, somehow, by something that had happened. He wasn’t the kind to beat around the bush; not because he was insensitive, but because it adhered to a special kind of structure. She had needs that had to be met and he would meet them with efficiency.



<Jersey> She was still amused about it and simply said nothing while she walked, pausing before speaking as she tried to figure out what to say. Rattled, uneasy. The last time that she had been like this, it had been the first time she’d seen a fadebeast and she had looked for the answer at a bottom of a bottle, and then ran into Peter smelling like booze while she was on the verge on hysterics. “It’s just different seeing you get like that and makes me feel better about the way I reacted to you siring.” She lightly rubbed her thumb against his hip from habit.

“Can I show you rather than explain it?” The question was light, soft in tone for his ears only. She had decided that she was only going to show part of it, where the portion of the girl bringing up the grandmother right up to where she had considered punching the guy that had gotten forceful. Although Jersey was well aware of the fact she simply could just show him flat out, she wanted to ask him and give him the chance. She would do the same for her sire, and anyone else that she decided to share her memories with.
“But long story short, a customer just... touched base on something I’m starting to have issues with when its brought up with those I’m not close to.” Jersey sighed softly, wondering how he would word that. She was fine discussing her condition with those she held close to her heart because she knew they already liked her. They wouldn’t pity her. Leaning up, she kissed his jaw lightly. “And I kind of wanted to punch the guy she was with.”


<Peter Parkman> “Show me,” he said, even though he wasn’t sure whether it was a grand idea, to be pushing memories into his head that weren’t his own. He didn’t know how it would tip the balance, if it tipped the balance at all. It was a finely weaved web of complication in there, and he wasn’t an expert. Even if it was his own head, he couldn’t decipher it. Not yet. And he didn’t think he’d ever be able to. But he braced himself anyway, pausing in the middle of the shopping centre. Perhaps walking whilst having one’s mind bombarded with images wasn’t such a great idea.

Peter thought that perhaps he should go talk to someone; the way his mind worked, it couldn’t be healthy. He was there with Jersey, and he knew it was real, but it was if he was experiencing everything through a tunnel. He could hear what she was saying, and could understand, but he was still frowning as he deciphered each sentence. Issues that she was struggling with. But she was close to him. So he should know about them, right? Issues… she must have been talking about her amnesia. Right? He panicked a little, inside, to think that maybe he wasn’t paying attention. To think that there were other issues and he hadn’t been listening – had been preoccupied with … with numbers. He nodded. He didn’t ask. He’d figure it out.



<Jersey> When they stopped walking, she pulled him gently out of the middle of the mall because she felt it’d be a bit strange to remain there as she would let the events play through his mind. “Alright.” Jersey hid her relief, because when she talked about things she remembered them better with the descriptions and the way the girl kept talking to the doll... When Jersey focused and the memory was played out through the man’s mind, each bit as vivid to him as it had been to her. Meanwhile, her hand moved to rest just the middle of his back as she tucked herself into his side and seemed to space off for a few moments.

“The doll went from male to female, and while I’ll admit she’s a bit off, that just... very touchy subject about not knowing.” She exhaled when she was done, blinking while she looked down at her feet for a few moments. “I asked you to come walk with me home because you keep me anchored.” Jersey rocked back and forth on her feet idly, “She’s sweet, and I like her, but that just rattled me the way she lingered on the name. Are ghosts real, too? I’ve heard rumors...” When she spoke, she kept her voice down because they were in public, but her expression was distraught while she frowned up at him.

[Jersey]

--The following transcript was a live chat roleplay--




<Peter Parkman> Even though they were vampires, even though there was so much that existed now that Peter would never have even considered before, he was still at heart a reasonable man. He’d done what he could to learn everything that he needed to. To make sure the parameters of this new world were solid, so that he could move around within them with a certainty, so that he wasn’t always running into metaphorical walls or tripping over invisible stones. One small step at a time, watching and learning all the while.

What Jersey had shown him, Peter saw the girl in the memories as one who was, yes, quite sweet but she looked a little like she wasn’t fully grounded. Like she wasn’t all there. Peter wouldn’t judge her for it, or think less of her for it. But the way Jersey seemed to be so rattled, he couldn’t understand why. To look at the evidence – what, really, had the girl said that had so unsettled Jersey? Or was it just the way that she’d been treated? That, too, rattled Peter. He would have punched the guy, no questions asked. It would have been a completely reasonable thing to do.

It took him a while, but Peter finally understood. They were near a set of tables and chairs, and Peter tugged Jersey over to one of them so that they could sit down. It seemed like the kind of conversation to have, sitting down. He looked her in the eye as he answered, steadily. He would be that anchor that she required.

“Of course they’re real. We have the ability to summon them – or some of us do,” his own voice was a mere whisper, but he knew she’d be able to hear it. “And some of us can summon and bind them, to use as invisible eyes and ears. Yes?” he said. But, beyond that, he had to shake his head. “Do you think she was talking about your own grandmother? Stop… Jersey, I know we live in a world where it might be possible but, she was clearly not in her right mind. Understand? She could have been talking nonsense.” He said.



<Jersey> She followed after him without any difficulty, never having any reason to do so as she took a seat beside him and she moved her hands softly to curl them around his. Her green eyes met his when he started to speak, her bottom lip idly between her teeth as a sign of wariness for the conversation that would come. She wondered quietly why she had said she needed an anchor, but she knew that’s what he was to her. When he’d been hurt, she’d stay with him and she could remember the nerves when she hadn’t been around.

“I still can’t believe I almost punched a customer, too.” She sighed and tightened her hold around his hands as he began to speak. Jersey fell quiet once more, clearly bewildered for a moment before she once more took her bottom lip between her teeth and rolled it. “Even if she was not completely there, Peter...” And then she trailed off. He was right. She shivered slightly, sighing and then shaking her head faintly, “It just startled me, I guess.”

The blonde slid her hand down to his wrist, squeezing there before she moved it back up to his hand. She was fidgeting, not keeping still and the telepath frowned. “You’re right.” Her lips twitched lightly into a small smile, but she sighed once more and traced her nails against his skin. “I was thinking it. I don’t know... the way that she was looking at me, then looking back at it... it scared me a little. I don’t think she’s dangerous. Honestly, she’s a cute girl and I am looking forward to seeing her again in some way.”

She supposed it was likely the sense that she did, deep down, want to know something about her past – even just her name – that got her rattled. The sense of finally being able to put a face to the name or send some sort of death notification to a possibly grieving family.


<Peter Parkman> Not being privy to Jersey’s thoughts, Peter was in the dark as to why she was rattled. The cogs in his brain were always turning; always considering the different paths and the different consequences. What might lead where, and why certain paths were thus better to take than other ones. Life was a game of chess and one’s moved had to be very carefully considered. Not that Peter wasn’t prone to certain bouts of spontaneity, but those came about when he wasn’t feeling himself. The frown furrowed in the centre of his brow, and he canted his head to the side.

“Even if she was talking about your actual grandmother – consider. We are not normal, you and I. And those we care about. Our lives are not normal. Or, try to imagine that our lives are normal,” he said slowly and paused, giving her time to imagine such a thing. Never seeing the sun, drinking blood, all completely, reasonably normal. “Imagine if that young girl could talk to… ghosts. Imagine that’s normal too. Accept it, as normal. Why does it worry you? That your grandmother loves you? Take it as a jewel, a gift. If you want to believe that her words meant something, see the good in them rather than the….” He shook his head, trying to think of the word. “…the weirdness of it,” he finally breathes. And he smiled reassuringly, fingers squeezing Jersey's hand in a bid to comfort her.*



<Jersey> She was quiet for a little while as she listened to him, considering what he was saying and she gave a small laugh, her tension and discomfort sliding away as they continued to talk. “Have I ever told you how much I love you?” She asked and then gave a small nod of her head, blonde hair falling over her shoulders in loose waves as she looked down at their hands. “I don’t think it worries me... it’s just...” She frowned in thought, “It’s hard to explain, too confusing to explain, maybe.”

Jersey exhaled a little, her light colored eyes showing her curiosity while she slid her fingers between his and squeezed his hand once more in return. “Maybe I’m afraid of knowing...” Her eyebrows pressed together in thought and then gave a shake of her head. “Or afraid of not.”


<Peter Parkman> She had, before, told him how much she loved him. Peter had no idea how she could. Maybe in the beginning, yes, when he was somewhat normal. If a man with five dogs who freaked out at the smallest things could be called normal. And, a vampire to boot. But he took her words and he kept them, a blanket of comfort that he could perhaps pull out at a future date to look at, and remember. Because although he didn’t voice it, he didn’t think that it would last. Even now he could feel the eddies of anxiety growing, knotting and coiling, stretching taut inside of him.

Sitting still, even if the conversation was of importance, wasn’t doing him much good. Preternatural sight was a blessing, however; he found himself staring at Jersey’s eyes, attempting to count every tiny little eyelash. The numbers soothed him. Calmed the eddies. But they distracted him, too. So much so it took him a few seconds to realise that Jersey had spoken. He blinked. He frowned. His knee began to bounce – a subconscious action. “Afraid of knowing or not knowing what?” he asked.


<Jersey> Her hand slid over his and she sighed quietly in thought, blonde hair falling over her features for a moment while she looked down. Did anything make any sense when she'd been speaking this entire time? She freaked out because a girl mentioned a grandmother and had to ask Peter to come get her. "Who I was before I lost my memory." She looked up at him, blinking while she adjusted to lean against his side lightly. Just feeling him physically calmed her enough that she didn't look as if she were going to jump out of her seat. "It's silly, I know. I mean, hell. I don't care who I was because I'm happy with who I am now. I have Kallista, I have you. I couldn't ask for more." She was going in circles, repeating things she said a lot. Man, the girl had unhinged her quite a bit.


<Peter Parkman> She leaned against him and Peter's eye twitched; they were getting comfortable, sitting there, as if they would sit there for a long while to talk things through. He was, of course, sympathetic toward Jersey's plight. He couldn't imagine it, himself, not remembering anything about who he was, or where he'd come from. It'd be like turning around and realising all the lights had been turned off behind you - staring into an abyss of nothingness and always afraid of what might come hurling out of the darkness, unexpected. The knee continued to bounce. Now, however, Peter was aware of it. Unable to look at Jersey's eyelashes anymore, due to her readjustment, he was forced to stare into the vastness of the shopping mall. He counted the beats of his heal against the marble flooring. He tensed, like a dog in a cage. He licked his lips. "So don't think about it. Think about what you're going to do tomorrow rather than what happened to you yesterday," he said. His answer, really, for most things. Try to forget about it.


<Jersey> Feeling Peter tense, Jersey studied him for a moment before she stood up and offered her hands gently to him. They could walk and talk as they usually did. "Come on, let's get home. And you're right, it wouldn't hurt me to think about other things." Jersey smoothed out her shirt idly, rolling her shoulders as she tried to relax entirely. She listened to the heartbeats around her, to his shoe touching the floor when his knee bounced and she lifted her eyes to the elevator when she heard it go off to the second floor. The telepath frowned, thinking about something before she shook her head to push it all out of her mind. It wouldn't help anything and she knew it.


<Peter Parkman> The suggestion to go home had Peter leaping out of his seat as if it were a hot plate, all of a sudden hot beneath his backside. His hands were shoved into his pockets and he began to walk, almost jogging toward the exit. He didn't like crowds, or too much noise. He didn't like not knowing exactly who and what was around him, not being able to keep track of or control the atmosphere he inhabited. He realised perhaps too late that he had left Jersey behind; he paused, momentarily, to give her a chance to catch up. He should have offered her something else to think about, but he couldn't. All he could think about was getting back home; back to his routine.


<Jersey> The blonde blinked and followed after Peter, catching up with him before she moved her arm to tuck it around his primarily because she preferred to walk with him, "Totally left me there, handsome." She pressed a small kiss to his shoulder. "How are the animals doing?" It was offered to distract him.


<Peter Parkman> Distractions weren't really what he needed. Once out into the fresh air, as soon as they'd crossed the threshold that divided the city from the mall, he'd begun to count again - the amount of steps that it would take to get them from here, to the train station. Another eye twitch; and his hands remained steadfast in his pockets. "They're fine," he offered, breezily.


<Jersey> Falling quiet, Jersey hummed and simply nodded her head while she looked around. She smiled at unfamiliar faces, nodding to those she did recognize from the usual commute. Her green eyes lifted back to Peter's features and she tried not to frown at him, clearly concerned.


<Peter Parkman> Peter was unphased. The further they walked the less tense he became, though he continued to count, in the back of his mind. He knew that he should probably try to spark some kind of conversation, but it wasn't needed. Not really. The two of them were comfortable enough in silence, and normally Jersey had enough to say for the both of them. Sometimes, though, it would be hard to just keep talking with nothing to bounce off. And Peter was being unresponsive. He knew that, but didn't do anything to change it. He didn't apologise, for the hundredth time. He'd made a silent vow to stop apologising for the way he was. He kept his eyes straight ahead, focusing on their path, and on getting to their destination.


<Jersey> Softly when she felt him becoming less tense, she traced her fingertips into the muscle at his hip and leaned gently into him. By now, she was fine with the way he was and she wouldn't want him to apologize. She didn't like it because it made him who he was. Every now and then, she could still hear him telling her that it was alright if she left him and every time, her response was quick to 'not happening' so that she pushed it out of her mind.