Disgrace, prt 2 [Jersey]

[Peter Parkman]

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

<Peter Parkman> The talk with Keara had allowed Peter to realise a lot of things. His talk with all of them so far had given him a lot to think about. Enver wasn’t quite as riled as he had expected; Kallista was shockingly easy to talk to, and the two had left on amicable terms. And Keara had been odd, in so many different ways. That she seemed upset that Peter would not call her mother was only the beginning of her openness. But it was her very openness that allowed Peter to see that life was different now in more ways than one.

No, he would never think that violence, and physical harm could turn him on. It would never be any kind of foreplay, as far as he was concerned. But a sliced leg that healed within days—a wound that was gone even before he’d fallen into his coma—now seemed like a really petty thing to be angry about. Sure, yes, his anger and his hurt had run deeper than that, but now he realised. He understood. It had taken him a while to get there, but he wanted to talk to Jersey. He needed to see her. It had nearly been two nights since he’d slipped out of the apartment with only a chaste kiss to her forehead as a goodbye; he’d left the dogs behind so that she would know he wasn’t leaving her. He just needed time to think.

Now that he had had his time, he was on his way home. His hands were shoved deep into his pockets and his hair wasn’t all that neat – brushed back only with his fingertips. His long legs carried him at a fast pace, until finally he was riding the elevator up to the floor that would lead him to Jersey’s apartment. The key clicked in the lock and he opened the door; the dogs rushed to greet him and he laughed, closing the door behind him before dropping to his haunches to pat them all, one by one. He glanced up and around the apartment; was she even home?

<Jersey> She was anxious, even knowing he wasn’t leaving her, the feeling didn’t go away without him being there. Jersey knew it was silly, but that didn’t make it go away nor did it make her feel any better. The dogs had kept her company when she wasn’t getting knocked to the floor by Nakia or being cheered up by Danton. She had seen an old friend from the hospital in the meantime, too, in between her panic. Earlier on, Mel had even texted her asking for advice to which Jersey was shocked to hear the girl had been hit by a poisonous dart. Jersey had also been shot twice in the same spot, just in her shoulder, and all in all, she’d learned a lot could happen in two days.

After work and in her usual amount of errands, Jersey returned to the apartment and took the dogs for a long walk before feeding them. She cleaned, and then she had gotten into the shower in hopes that as it had the day before, it would remove the unease from her system. Her wounds had healed, leaving a patch of blood on one of her shirts and the ruddy color on her skin was scrubbed away with her usual sweet scented body wash while she tried to relax. “Think positive, think positive.” She repeated the words in her head, rolling her shoulders idly before exhaling. Jersey just wanted everything to go back to normal – no violence, no conflict, and no tension.

She was just getting out of the shower when her phone beeped at her, her camera had picked up Peter on it even as his laugh reached her ears. Jersey dried off and dressed quietly, listening as she ran a brush through her long hair before finally exiting the bathroom to look at the man while leaning against the wall. When he glanced up, she lifted her hand lightly from her spot to greet him before offering a small smile. Jersey stayed where she stood, her sweater a size too large for her over a white tank top and stuck her hands lightly into the denim skirt she wore. “Hi Peter.” She couldn’t remember how many times she’d apologized by now, her green eyes moving over him slowly before lingering on his face.

<Peter Parkman> When he caught sight of her, something inside Peter softened. Even though he was surrounded by the blur of fur and wagging tails, he stood. The smile never left his face as he stepped through and around the dogs. The scent of shower gel reached his senses, and it was enticing, in its own way. He closed the distance between himself and Jersey; the dogs followed, swarming around their ankles, nudging up against their calves for attention that Peter would not give them. Not just yet. Instead, he reached out to take Jersey’s hand, to slip his fingers through hers. His opposite hand cupped her jaw, thumb brushing over the lobe of her ear. In this way, he leaned down to place a tender, tentative kiss to Jersey’s lips.

When he broke away, it was to gaze into her eyes. There was a gleam in his own eyes; adoration, maybe. Love. There were things he wanted to talk about, but it could wait a few more minutes. First, the one pressing question – the one thing that he hadn’t yet checked. “Now… I remember everything,” he said. He released his hold on her hand to brush his fingers over her stomach. “All good?”

<Jersey> When she was alive, his smile could easily knock the breath out of her on its own and as she watched him, she found that even now, it had the same reaction only this time, she didn’t need to breathe. The dogs around him made her chuckle, relaxing even further as he made his way over to her. She squeezed his hand immediately, the weight of it in her own reassuring that the words that she kept telling herself, that everything would be fine, was true. Her head lightly tilted into his touch, her eyes falling shut during the kiss as she returned it, her freehand moving to rest against his chest before she looked up at him.

His question made her smile and she would have blushed as the memory rushed through her to why he was asking. Jersey leaned up to press another kiss to his lips before she nodded. “Yeah, baby. All good.” She confirmed, “I’ve missed you.” She admitted easily, didn’t she always miss him when they were apart? Her hand moved to rest over his, “Nothing out of the ordinary..” Love reflected in her eyes as she looked up at him questioningly, wondering what he’d thought about that and everything else now.

<Peter Parkman> Peter nodded, very obviously relieved that everything was fine. The doubt that he had felt in regards to Jersey had slowly slipped away, and in returning to her now, in reminding himself of that night two weeks before, had him almost wanting to pick her up and take her straight to the bedroom. He didn’t, however. Instead, his fingers curled again into hers. “Come sit with me,” he said, half leading, half tugging her toward the couch. He knew that as soon as they sat down, the dogs would do more of their swarming. But that wouldn’t matter. They’d settle down, sooner or later. He’d settle himself in the corner of the couch, and would wrap his arm over Jersey’s shoulder should she sit down next to him.

<Jersey> She watched him quietly and relief crossed her features, her hand lightly rubbing the back of his before she squeezed it once more the moment his fingers curled into hers. Jersey made a content humming sound and followed him without any argument. With her freehand, she absentmindedly scratched the ears of more than one dog, the way the fur felt each time telling her as much. As he sat down, she took her seat beside him and her legs automatically were lifted to place into his lap so that she’d be sitting close. Eventually, she knew she’d give up and relocate to his lap, but she turned her head and pressed a kiss to his shoulder. “Are you alright?” Jersey asked, curious.

<Peter Parkman> "I'm fine," he rumbled. He gazed down at Jersey for a few quiet seconds before he nodded. He was fine, there was no lie in it. Sure, he was still a little bit skittish every now and again, but overall he was going okay. "I talked to... a few people," he said. "Enver, Keara... Kallista," he said, watching for Jersey's reaction, though he left no room for her to interrupt. "You'll be happy to know that there'll be no more fighting," he said. He felt that this was the first thing that Jersey should know. He didn't know whether Kallista had contacted her or not while he'd been talking to Keara. But he figured it was the one thing that would put Jersey's mind at ease. The one thing that could segue into his more serious enquiries.

<Jersey> “And your OCD?” She lifted her hand lightly to brush her fingertips through his hair, finding it interesting that he hadn’t cut it yet, but she liked the length regardless. Gently, she let her nails massage his scalp as she listened, genuine surprise crossing her features as she heard her sire’s name come up without some sense of malice or dislike that she had heard in the past. She nodded to let him know she appreciated hearing it, “That’s a relief.” And considering Peter was there, she was sure that Enver hadn’t convinced him that she was evil, although she had a sneaking suspicion that the man didn’t like her much after all of that, but she could be wrong. “Considering I see no wounds, I imagine it went pretty well?”

<Peter Parkman> "More than well," he said. The shock was still pretty fresh, now that he recalled the conversation. It flitted across his features, his mouth turning down a little at the corners and his eyes widening. "She agreed with everything I said. She said I didn't need to apologise, and that the fault was all hers," he explained. He shrugged his shoulders and shook his head. "I apologised anyway but.. I was expecting her to argue for her own actions, you know? To... yell at me, or something. But she didn't," he said, before turning a tenderer expression upon Jersey, his own fingers playing idly with the jumper bunched at her hip. "And what about it?" he asked, referring to the OCD.

<Jersey> “I’m glad to hear that.” And she really was. As Jersey listened to him, her fingertips continuing to mess up his hair as they usually would before she combed it back into place with her nails, she thought about it quietly. If Kallista was apologizing, and she told him that he didn’t need to apologize... “It sounds like everything is getting back to normal.” No more violence. Her head tilted back to rest upon his shoulder, looking up at him and returning the expression with one of her own. “How are you... doing? No vengeance of causing you to hide in the dog cage?” Or snap. Her eyebrows pushed together as the latter bit, “This isn’t exactly your normal schedule. You seem more like you were than I met you before the fae bit you in th
<Jersey> e head."

<Peter Parkman> Peter shuddered. He didn't particulalry want to think about that specific Fae attack, or any thereafter. Nor did he want to dwell on his OCD; how it worked, and why he didn't feel the same compulsions now as he had for the past few months. He didn't want to dwell too much, because the disease felt like some kind of demon living inside of him. And if he paid it too much attention, it might stir, wake up, and wreak havoc. He just smiled, laughed, and shook his head. "No, I'm not going to go and hide in the dog cage," he said. "My schedule has freed up. And I do not feel the urge to go pick up a weapon or..." he cringed, body tensed. He shook his head again, the smile dispersing. No, he didn't want to think about what he'd done to all those innocents, either. His head bowed, and he couldn't look Jersey in the eye.

<Jersey> When she felt him shudder, Jersey pressed a kiss to his shoulder and her hand moved to curl around his thigh softly to squeeze the muscle there. She considered it quietly as he spoke and she gave a nod of her head in understanding. His smile and laugh caused her lips to lift into a gentle smile, even after his dropped and he cringed, tensing. Jersey knew what would follow at that statement, “I won’t even bring mine here.” She admitted about her weapons, “They’re sitting underneath Kallista’s altar.” And after a moment, she scooted into his lap before her hand lifted to cup his chin softly so that she could adjust his gaze to look at her. “It’s all in the past, Peter.” She spoke gently, and with the want to see him smile, she smirked, "Wanna know one good thing that came out of this?"

<Peter Parkman> He wanted to tell her that no, it wasn't all in the past. That when he slept, that sleep of the dead, sometimes dreams crept in. Memories of the things that he had done. When Kelly and Kallista had found him outside; when he had attacked them, and it had been witnessed by a group of youths. And he'd killed them all. Without remorse; he'd drained their blood to replace what had been taken from him, and he left their bodies there. He didn't want to talk about it, so he forced a soft smile. "You're not pregnant?"

<Jersey> Her hand moved to his jaw, to lightly stroke against his cheek and even at his statement, she gave a small laugh before she shook her head and smiled. She pressed a kiss to his temple, “Mm, so maybe there is another thing that was positive other than the sex and what could come out of it. What I was going to say though,” She inclined her head, “was that I think it’s really sexy when you swear.” Granted, not at her sire, but that had been typed, “Once I got over the shock at hearing you say **** again, I realized I like the way it comes off these lips, even if rarely.”

<Peter Parkman> Peter blinked down at Jersey. He arched a brow. He was trying to process. He was trying to logically figure out how it was a good thing, that she should think he was sexy when he swore. Maybe it was an interesting thing. A curious thing to note - but what possible 'good' could come of it? Nothing bad, either, but why good? He wasn't some Christian who didn't like to blaspheme. He had nothing against swearing, really, except that he thought it was a crude way to argue. Curses only really slipped from him when he was furious, when he could not help himself. When nothing else seemed good enough to express rage. "That's a bit odd, Jersey," he mumbled. "So you're saying... if I want to get you into bed I should swear at you?"

<Jersey> She leaned up and pressed a kiss to his lips, recognizing his expression and trying not to snicker from it. Her head moved to rest on his shoulder, her eyes closing briefly as she simply just enjoyed the heartbeats from the dog and his body against hers. It was only when he spoke again that her eyes opened and she pinched him softly in the side, “It was something I found attractive.” And then she shook her head, “No, technically all you have to do to get me into bed is say, Bed, now or anything to give me that would tip me off of what you want, or even just picking me up and tossing me onto it like you seem to enjoy doing works.” Jersey shrugged.

<Peter Parkman> Peter cleared his throat; there was avoidance in his eyes, but also a severe lack of fidgeting awkwardness. It was thoroughly tempting to do just that, but the images from earlier flashed through his mind again. The conversation he'd had with Keara had been far too revealing, but he couldn't help the next question that tumbled from his lips. "If you... if you find swearing attractive... do you find violence attractive to? Like... as a kind of... foreplay," he asked, the words mumbled so heavily that they would be barely discernible.

<Jersey> Her green eyes blinked a few times as she tried to figure out what he meant. Had she been further away from him, she likely wouldn’t have heard him and she moved her hand to squeeze his side. “Peter... I was overwhelmed and panicked, and angry... and I lashed out at you when I shouldn’t have and I can’t tell you how fast I regretted it.” Jersey nudged a kiss to his jaw. She knew she scratched him occasionally, but... She shook her head. “No.” She lightly tugged at his jacket, adjusting it.

<Peter Parkman> Peter sighed and shook his head. Of course he was thinking of the way Jersey's blade had dug into the skin of his leg, but it was only at the back of his mind. "No, no... it's something that Keara said," he started, then stopped. Keara had told him in confidence. Anyway, this is what he had wanted to talk about all along. "I know. I've talked to Kallista and I intend to talk to the others but I want to apologise to you, too," he said. "I didn't realise how hard it was on you. How... conflicted. I deserved it, I realise that now. You just... you need to know that even if you'd stayed I wouldn't have retaliated. No matter what my state of mind I could never hurt you, not like that. But what I didn't realise, is that I was hurting you, just not physically. And I'm sorry for that," he said, genuinely, his eyes wide and searching, even as his arms remained curled tight around Jersey.

<Jersey> She simply lifted her eyebrow lightly, her confusion evident as he stopped, but she didn’t press on the matter as she listened to him and she shook her head, “You’ve already apologized to me a few times...” Not since he’d come to, of course, but she kept the words close to her heart anyway. He knew it bothered her and that was all that mattered. When he mentioned that he wouldn’t have retaliated, her green eyes widened and she shook her head. “I didn’t leave because of you. I left... because of me. I know you wouldn’t have, I told Kallista as much when I arrived and she told me to leave the room in case you broke in to attack them.” She bit her lip. Her eyes remained full of love and acceptance, forgiving as he continued.

And then she thought about her conversation with Nakia, begging her to find him.“Keara said that sometimes we hurt the ones we love, and I’ve seen it. I’ve hurt you, you’ve hurt me. Nakia’s kicked Danton’s *** multiple times.” She then bit her bottom lip, “And I have made my sire cry multiple times when I’ve snapped at her for things she’s said or done to you.” She slipped her arms around his shoulders, looking into his eyes, “I forgive you, I know deep down I always will... and I’m sorry that I attacked you, that I made you feel alone when you needed me the most.”

<Peter Parkman> He could have explained, in full detail, just how alone he had felt. How there'd been no thought of retaliation against anyone after she'd attacked him; that he'd retreated, fully, and had wanted only to be alone. A request that was denied, until he was so badly beaten up that it took him a full week to recover entirely. There were plenty of things he could say to make her understand, fully, exactly what it was that he had felt alone in those abandoned apartments, but he wouldn't. She already understood, and there'd be no point in making her feel any worse. "Keara would say that," he said with an amused grin. Awkwardness settled again over his shoulders, just like it had with Kallista; they'd said what they'd needed to say, and he didn't want to talk about it anymore. He felt lighter, freer, but not in a way that would send him spiralling off the deep end. Except, one advantage he had with Jersey was that he could distract her quite easily, and could veer her into more comfortable territory. He lifted a hand, hooking a finger beneath her chin so that he could lean down and steal a kiss, his hair falling forward, untamed.

<Jersey> “I really like your sire. She’s nice, and both times she indirectly kept me calmer than I could have been.” She admitted, thinking about how she’d cried while she was alone. Jersey considered everything that had happened once more, watching him with a fond expression as she mentally compared the different sides of Peter. She had loved them all, but the man she was sitting on, the one with his arms around her, had been the one she’d fallen without hesitation for. And she was happy to have him back, even with the violence that had brought him back to her. Jersey was about to ask him something before his lips touched hers, smothering and displacing the thought as she leaned up and into the kiss with a grin dancing across her features. “I love you.” She whispered into his mind, curling her hand against the back of his neck.

<Peter Parkman> One day, Peter thought, I'm going to be able to speak into her head, he mused. One day, thought, he would be able to pay her back for all the times she'd spoken to him and left him with no way of responding, not immediately anyway. He might have told her that he loved her right back except that his mouth was preoccupied. He was quite happy for it to remain preoccupied, as the relief swept him up and had him floating. His hand tangled in her still slightly damp hair, his tongue swiping between her lips, to indulge. A vampire's kiss was deeper than that of a human, without the need to breathe. It could have been whole minutes later that they broke apart, but when they did he was grinning. "******* love you too, kid," he teased.

<Jersey> One kiss, a smile. Jersey felt better than she did when he had arrived, happiness and security back into place that forced her unease and discomfort to submit before being locked away. At the feel of his tongue, she parted her lips to nip it playfully and caressed it with her own, her hands falling from where they were to rest against his chest. One slipped underneath his jacket and as she heard his words when they pulled apart, she grinned in response. "Mm, kid? That's new." Jersey teased, her eyes sparkling in a mischievous fashion as she looked up at him. "What's on your mind right now?"

<Peter Parkman> "You are," he said. "Literally. You keep on speaking up there, I might start to think you're trying to brand me with your... mental scent," he said. The words came with ease, the teasing nature uncharacteristic - at least not in comparison to how he'd been for quite a few months. Too literal, maybe, to precise and square. A shiver ran down his spine as the corners of his lips turned down in thought. "Why, what have you got on your mind?" he asked, guessing at what the answer might be - wondering if she was trying to coax it out of him, first.

<Jersey> "Mm, maybe I am, maybe I'm not." She chuckled before she shook her head, a smile dancing across her lips. "It's just second nature, and I don't like breaking the kiss just to say it." Jersey then lifted and dropped her shoulders in a light shrug. "You, me. The fact I'm happy and that I hope everything will be uphill from here." Seeing the corners of his lips turned down, she pressed a kiss to his mouth once more, "And other things that involve us... particularly something coming up that I realized while talking to Jonah."

<Peter Parkman> Peter's mind moved in all the wrong places. Jersey, talking about things 'coming up' right after putting 'you' and 'me' in the same sentence - though the whole notion took on an entirely odd and unsavoury tone - at least in Peter's imagination - as soon as Jonah's name was mentioned. Jonah didn't fit neatly into the equation that Peter had tripping through his brain. He had to shake the mental image out. "What... what's coming up?" he asked curiously.

<Jersey> She watched him curiously before pressing another light kiss to his lips. Of course, her mind generally did live in the recalling memory portion to play through her mind. "We've been together for a while on the ninth." She explained, chuckling as she brushed her thumb against his jaw, "What did you think I meant?" She asked, lifting her eyebrows.

<Peter Parkman> Peter wondered, like all men might, whether that was a hint. He had to admit that he felt somewhat guilty that he could not remember the exact date that he and Jersey had got together. Perhaps it was odd of him - Peter, who was so fond of numbers - to not remember. But what was she judging it by? The day that they had met, or the first time that they had kissed? Was the first kiss what indicated that they were ‘together’, or was it something else? He was silent, for a while, his brows furrowed as the thoughts meandered to and fro around a brain that was, in the grand scheme of things, like a very calm sea in comparison to the storm it had recently endured. The neurons were slowly putting the ruined village back together again; thatching the roofs of the houses that his thought inhabited. He shook his head. “I’m not sure what I thought you meant but I knew it couldn’t have been what I was thinking,” he said, because generally, what he had been thinking was absolutely silly. “What do you judge it by?” he asked, by way of distraction. “How long we’ve been together, that is?”

<Jersey> As he remained silent, she decided that she liked his hair longer; it had been something she wasn't entirely sure on in the months it had been growing out. She liked it best when it was loose, but she enjoyed running her fingertips through it regardless. “What were you thinking?" She asked, sounding amused as she lifted her hand to gently trace her thumb against the man's jawline, her green eyes moving over his lips and then his nose, before finally reaching his eyes once more. Jersey blinked once as she realized the two had never actually picked a date to their relationship. Their first kiss was generally what she went by because getting him to not jump out of his skin when she hinted she liked him back then had been impossible until that evening. "The night I confronted you about having no shadow," It had been something she no longer thought about, "the same night when we first kissed and admitted that we wanted each other." She smiled a bit, sheepishly, "That was the first night I slept in your arms, too."

<Peter Parkman> “You make it all sound so… “ What was the word he was looking for? Maybe he wasn’t quite so romantically inclined as his girlfriend. “Like something out of a chick flick,” he says with a smirk. He himself is, and always has been, rationally inclined. It’s a matter of events, of consequence, of every action having an equal reaction. It was bound to happen, sooner or later, that they would kiss. Following on from that, they were bound to sleep together - and to finally actually sleep together without any sleeping. A rational turn of events that sentiment is quite as attached to for him as it might be for her. It’s a mere urge, an instinct. A desire. He frowns. “You said you had me on your mind. Then you mentioned things ‘coming up’. And Jonah. And… you’re a smart girl, Jersey. I’m sure you can see what mental image I put together, there,” he says, the frown smoothing into a sheepish grin.

<Jersey> “I like chick flicks and romance novels.” She smirked in response before she gave a shake of her head, thinking about what she’d said before she lightly moved her hand to toy with the sleeve of her sweater. It was soft and comfortable, the knitted holes yarn making it easy to wear in the late summer weather. “Try replaying it in your head. Looks like one too.” She teased before she leaned down to kiss the curve of his adam’s apple after she playfully nipped the area. His scent made her relax, her hold on him tightening just briefly before green eyes lifted back to the man’s features when she was done. She blinked once and then twice, pinching him before she shook her head. “I was talking to him when I realized it. He asked me how long I’ve been a vampire, and well, we got together not too long before that.” She explained as she chuckled. “I’m perfectly happy with you and only you.” The blonde chirped.

<Peter Parkman> This was why Peter preferred to read. He preferred to read history, the classics - mainly non-fiction. Facts and data that could be disputed but which was ordered, and drawn from a pool of information with the likelihood of correctness. And, if not that, he liked to read things in his spare time that were so completely beyond the realm of possibility that they provided the best form of escape. The comic books, and the superheroes that inspired him. Everything in between gave him a mental twitch; he was a ******** to sit and watch TV with, because he’d argue against every scenario. His head tilted back and he chuckled, eyed closed as Jersey nipped at his neck. He should have been uncomfortable. Should have been clambering over the back of the couch. But he wasn’t. He stayed right where he was, his fingers curled against Jersey’s waist. “Something may look the same as another thing, but it doesn’t mean that it’s the same,” he said. “Reality is always far preferable to fiction,” he added, so that she did not think that he was belittling her view of their relationship. He didn’t want to compare it to some flimsy fiction filled with plot holes. He’d prefer to embrace it as their own reality. Still laughing, he dropped his chin. “Are you saying I act like one of your fictional male hunks created only for the shallow purpose of fulfilling female wishful fantasies?”

<Jersey> She enjoyed reading everything. Television wasn’t something she needed, sometimes the noise of it all gave her a headache or the brightness of the screen hurt her eyes. For the most part, Jersey just fell into her thoughts. She could get distracted for hours if she wasn’t careful, she enjoyed remembering what she could, remembering it over and over again in her head so that she’d never forget. When he chuckled, a smile played across her lips and she pressed another kiss to the skin before setting her head against his shoulder and watched him in amusement. Jersey chuckled a bit and then gave a shake of her head, “I mean with the memory projection, my love. It’s seen from a different perspective, like a film. You are much, much better than some teenage heart throb.” She had a lazy smile crossing her lips as she lifted her hand to let it rest against his chest as she snuggled closer against his body. She hadn’t realized how much that she’d missed his logic until now. “I agree.” Jersey confirmed with a laugh, rolling her eyes as a grin danced across her lips after. “Mm, in only the manner of which you swept me off my feet and stole my heart?” She offered before shaking her head softly. “You act like you, Peter. And I wouldn’t have you any other way... well.” She paused, to tease him, as she had a thoughtful expression on her features before adding, “Maybe without clothes.”

<Peter Parkman> Peter remembered. He remembered how he had met Jersey; how he had given her a job walking the dogs. It had all been very proficient, in his memory. The expression on his face was thoughtful, but then a little bit incredulous. He scoffed. “I wouldn’t… I wouldn’t call what I did sweeping anyone off their feet,” he said. In fact, in his memory it seemed as if Jersey was the one who’d done the sweeping, and it was Peter had fallen rather ungracefully. Right over the back of a couch, really, and as far away from Jersey’s advances as possible. He shifted a little under her weight. He was torn. Deep down, there was a broiling anxiety. He had snapped. He’d been broken. But he could remember the way he had felt. He’d told Jersey that he felt free. The freedom was an aphrodisiac. To deny himself the freedoms that he had craved… it seemed counterproductive to keeping his sanity in check. The muscles in his jaw jumped, before he finally relaxed. Before he gave in, and sighed. “Maybe you’ll just have to take them off me, then,” he said. “But I’m afraid I’m going to have to keep them on when we’re in public,” he added with a frown.

<Jersey> “Well, your opinion is not the same of mine and you did, even if you don’t realize it, Peter. I fell for you, and rather fast.” She smiled and slid her hand gently along his chest to rest against his collarbone. “Almost literally, once.” She thought about the time when they had been walking back to the city so he could take her to her hotel room, and she found herself staring up at the sky after slipping on a patch of ice. It had been one of the first days she realized how strongly she felt for him, too. As he shifted under her, she blinked at him curiously and waited until he stopped before settling against his chest once more. Jersey waited quietly, listening to the dogs panting and pressed a kiss to his cheek as she got up from his lap for a little while to go check on the water bowls to make sure their water was still clean. Adding a bit more, she returned to Peter after scratching ears and once again, slipped back into his lap carefully. When he sighed, her eyebrow lifted. “That can be arranged.” She chuckled, giving a soft shake of her head after his next part. “I know you’re going to have to keep them on in public, handsome. There are some things that stay in the cabin. Speaking of which, we should probably get back to. As nice as this apartment is... it’s not home.” Her green eyes returned to his, her head inclining gently, “It’s not as quiet and peaceful here as it is out there, you know?” Jersey leaned forward and kissed him once more.

<Peter Parkman> Peter arched a brow. He had just suggested that she remove his clothes from him. Looking at the conversation logically, he thought he’d make it pretty clear--the hints that he had given--that though he had undergone several changes, there was one specific disinclination that he had left behind. It was time to realise that he was a man. A supernatural man, yes, capable of spawning raging violent vicious shadowy hellsapawn, but still a man with a man’s usual instinctual wants and desires. He was a man who’d realised that bottling these desires up was not at all healthy for him, mentally or physically. The weight of the woman pressed against his chest reminded him of the things that he could have, readily - the ways in which these instinctual wants and desires could be satisfied. This minx of a blonde who had so often delighted in teasing him when she knew his reasons for abstaining. And now, he had as much told her that he was willing to get naked… and she suggested that instead they pack up and move back to the cabin. Maybe she wasn’t in the mood. He cleared his throat and nodded. “It’s probably a good idea. I did… I do like that place for its serenity,” he said. He hadn’t actually picked it, but perhaps some profiler somewhere had indicated that a nice quiet cabin out in the middle of nowhere would do him good. “The dogs are probably sick of being cooped up,” he said, slipping out from underneath Jersey to again drop to the floor, a low-pitched whistle passing his lips to call the dogs to him, tails wagging and tongues lolling. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he cooed to the gathering hoard, laughing a little as KD’s tongue lapped at his jaw.

<Jersey> The hints had been noted fast, and she wondered why he wasn’t protesting or trying to steer the conversation away from the topic of either of them naked like he had until he snapped. On any other given day, she would have pulled him close and did everything she could to tease this man underneath her until he gave in, however, she didn’t have protection on her. That one had been in her wallet because as he’d said before, it didn’t hurt to be safe, but she hadn’t made her way to the store to purchase any as of late. And as she tugged at his shirt halfheartedly, she leaned closer to press a kiss just below his ear tenderly after he nodded. “And when we get there, these and everything else will have to be removed.” Jersey slipped her hand down to tug at the waistband of his jeans playfully. It was a show that yes, she was very much in the mood. But, waiting would do them good. Either that, or caution would be thrown into the wind. As she got off the couch, she pulled the hem of her skirt a bit lower over her thighs and listened to him coo at the dogs and a smile curled across her lips that would likely remain the most of the evening. “I’ll go get the bags.” Jersey said as she moved past Peter and around the dogs, letting her hand trace across his shoulders as she went into the bedroom to pack up what had been brought to the mostly bare apartment. Aside from the essentials, it was evident she only kept it for emergencies now that Mel had gotten her own. Returning with the dogs leads in hand, Jersey set three down with Peter before going to put on her sneakers and then hooked up three others.

[Jersey]

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

<Peter Parkman> Peter leaned back against the couch, the dogs crowding in around him. He watched as Jersey got up, his eyes following her every movement as she moved around, at least until she moved out of his vision. It had been a long night. It had been a long few nights, after a long month. Longer, really. There are still people that he needed to talk to, but he’d talked to those that mattered the most. Although his meeting with Keara had ended weirdly, it had been freeing, in a way. There were emotions that he had shared with Keara that he had not with anyone else; which was why he was here, now, calm. Contented, in control of his emotions. The dogs were a comfort, too. He could be patient, he knew that. He’d gone… how long was it before he finally gave in to Jersey? If there was anything that Peter was good at, it was abstaining from sex, whether for days or weeks or months, or even just an hour or so. He wondered, idly, whether Jersey didn’t believe him. Whether they’d gone so long without, whether his constant running away had her habitually stepping back to give him space. He only stood when the dogs were all clipped to their leashes. Their excitement multiplied. They always got excited when they knew they were going outside. He didn’t know what there was to pack. He didn’t know what was at the apartment, so he let Jersey do what she needed to do. He stood while she was doing up her sneakers; he took up three of the leads, and hiked one of the bags up onto his shoulder. He was ready to go when she was. “I’m looking forward to it,” he said. “I mean, this apartment is nice and everything but… the cabin is home and I - I’m looking forward to going home,” he mumbled, stepping over one of the dogs, toward the door.

<Jersey> There hadn’t been much to re-pack. Jersey hadn’t been a messy person when she was alive and that hadn’t changed after her turning. It didn’t help that for months her boyfriend also needed to have everything a certain way, either, and the habit of leaving a towel or shirt on the floor had adjusted to keep him from becoming uncomfortable. A few shirts had been in the dryer, as had the pajama bottoms that he’d woken up in. While he had been gone for two days, Jersey had changed the sheets and slept on the couch – it felt too empty not having him beside her in a bed. Hearing him move behind her when she put on her sneakers, her green eyes flickered to the tall man while she adjusted the side of one shoe after her socks were on and moved her gaze slowly from his toes to his head. Straightening up, she nodded and offered him a small smile. “I agree.” And then she bit her bottom lip idly, “Although, I’ve learned that I’m comfortable wherever so long as I have you. I get... antsy.” She thought of how to explain it and debated about showing him before deciding against it as she took the other three leads, adjusted the bag over her shoulder. Her green eyes took in the apartment, “Can we try to avoid coming back here for a month or two? I’d like to use it for only emergencies or when we’re too lazy... or other things,” She paused to look him over again and inwardly sighed. She should have just undressed him at that moment, “to want to walk back to the cabin.” Digging her keys out from her bag, Jersey opened the door and lead them out before locking the bottom for now, waiting for Peter patiently. “No lingering in the woods more than needed. I don’t want to see you hurt for a very long, long, preferably never, time.”

<Peter Parkman> Peter wished it were the same for him. He couldn’t say that it was, not just yet anyway. Maybe in the future sometime. But it was too soon for him to feel comfortable anywhere. Not even in his own home. Even after his conversation with Kallista, even after Keara had soothed his nerves somewhat, he knew that deep down he was still a little anxious. Deep down, he was still a little antsy with or without Jersey; he’d noticed it over the past few nights. He’d noticed it even in this apartment, with only Jersey and the dogs. Every loud, unexpected sound or movement had him jumping out of his skin, expecting sharp and deep pain at every single turn. But he wouldn’t let that fear control him. He stepped out of the apartment door and keep tight grip on his nerves; he reasoned with himself. Kallista had apologised. The others, on the board, had expressed happiness to see him awake. No one was going to come and attack him. It was a mantra, repeated over and over in the back of his mind. No one’s coming to get you.

“Why do you want to avoid coming back here?” he asked. Of course, he wouldn’t forget this was where she’d pulled her blade on him and then left him. That wasn’t a happy memory, but he remembered the conversation he’d had with Keara, and with Enver the night before, and he pushed the memory from his mind. With the bag lodged over his shoulder and one hand curled around the leads, the other hand rested lightly on the small of Jersey’s back as they walked, in tandem, to the elevator. He pushed the button and stared at the number over the door, waiting for it to arrive.

<Jersey> It was exactly that she had pulled her blade on him there. Even if everything had been too much for her, if she had been too stressed out, Jersey didn’t like that memory. She didn’t like that she had hurt him, both physically and emotionally in this apartment. She had walked away – or actually, she had tomed away – to avoid doing more damage and she had been too angry at everything to stay calm. She should have talked to him, or tried to, even if he didn’t want to listen in that state. “I thought you were dead for almost a week in this place.” She explained quietly as she pulled her bag closer and then looked up at him lightly. There was no hint of an injury, nothing bad remained with him and she had noticed that he still seemed anxious a bit over the past few days. Feeling his hand on her back, Jersey slipped hers into the far back pocket of his jeans and squeezed gently. “I just prefer home more.” Although she thought about the way she’d pulled him to her that night, about the way her anger at him had diminished upon sight and lust had quickly replaced it. Just the thought of it all had her crinkle her nose impatiently, her expression obvious that she was displeased with something before she wiped it clear and turned her head to press a kiss to his shoulder, breathing in his scent. “Although, if you want to, we can always come back. It’s your apartment, too.” Jersey looked up at him, her green eyes soft as she heard the elevator door open. The dogs moved forward, the blonde pulling Peter gently with her before she leaned into his side once again as they were all inside. Making sure that all tails and snouts were inside, she pressed the ground button and closed her eyes as the doors slid shut.

<Peter Parkman> Of course, again, Peter’s rational brain kicked in. Before he could try to step into Jersey’s shoes, he was frowning and shaking his head. “But I wasn’t dead. I’m a shadow,” he said. He’d learnt this, from Keara. At least, he was pretty sure he’d learned it from Keara. “If I die my body disperses into Shadow,” he said, glancing down at Jersey as soon as they were safely ensconced in the elevator, the dogs swarming around their feet. His own expression softened when he saw the one writ across Jersey’s features. He couldn’t identify her expression, or what emotion it might belong to. He merely nodded at her suggestion that they could always come back. It’s not something that he could see himself doing any time in the near future, but the future was a vast thing, these days. And one never knew, what might happen or who he might be in a few years. Maybe they’d have moved here in a few years? But, as he glanced down at the swarm of fur and tails and lolling tongues below them, he knew it was unlikely. An apartment was no place for so many dogs. They needed space, and open air. Especially Hunter, whose heavy body now leaned against Peter’s leg. “We have the children to think about…” he murmured, before turning his grin on Jersey.

<Jersey> “I know, she told me and explained how some died differently, and reappeared differently. It really all is fascinating if you think about it.” Her lips fell into a light frown as she looked up at him, “But, that didn’t change the fact that I’d seen you take severe wounds before...” Her hand lifted to cup his cheek, “And you’d stayed conscious. I could sense that you were alive, knew you were alive, but that didn’t stop my mind from tricking me and telling me otherwise.” She bit down on her bottom lip as she looked into his eyes, “It terrified me, to be entirely honest.” Jersey heard her voice break off a bit, remembering how many times that she’d waited and just pleaded quietly with him to get up. Enver had slapped him a few times, she’d done quite a bit to try to wake him up. “I kept telling myself I’d be okay if you left me, so long as you woke up.” Before she could catch it, she felt a tear slide down her cheek from her words and she lifted her hand to rub it away. It had been a worry and she knew that wasn’t something she had to be concerned for. Awkwardly, Jersey shifted from one foot to another and listened to their surroundings, feeling the way his body was against hers as she pressed into him. At his words, she smiled a bit and chuckled. “Mm, yes. We do, and I’m sure they’d appreciate the freedom that the yard permits. I know I prefer the quiet and lack of noisy neighbors.” She teased, looking up at him and setting her head against his shoulder as she returned the grin with a lazy one of her own.

<Peter Parkman> Peter frowned. There was no point in keeping anything from Jersey; he’d made up his mind mere hours after waking up that he would seek everyone he had wronged and he would talk to them. He would let them know exactly how he felt, and why. And Jersey was no exception. Although he didn’t immediately see the tear on her cheek, he could hear it in her voice. Could almost smell it in the air, the salty essence of it. He should take a step back. He knows, deep down, that normal people would not choose to upset her further. They would coo reassurances, and tell her that everything would be okay, and that it would always be okay. He cleared his throat. “I thought I was going to die, and that terrified me,” he said. The family hadn’t just wounded him physically. They had wounded him mentally, and emotionally. And it’s the inner wounds that don’t heal straight away. He still had to think a lot about what Keara had said; that violence was in their nature, that he shouldn’t think too much of it or shy away from it. Sure, yes, physically violence wasn’t something they should worry about, due to the way they can heal. But physical violence, depending on who carries it out, and why, can cause deeper wounds that don’t go away quite so easily. He took a deep breath as the elevator doors swished open and the dogs rushed out, forcing Jersey and Peter to follow.

“And I had to think about it, Jersey. You need to know that. Whether I’d come back to you or not - I wasn’t sure myself,” he said. “I’d probably still be thinking about it if I hadn’t talked to Enver or Keara. It’s just a cut that healed, I know that, but it’s more than just a flesh wound,” he explained, calmly. It should at least comfort Jersey that although he was speaking negatively, he was still there, with his arm wrapped around her waist. He shrugged. “I don’t know why I wasn’t awake this time. Maybe my subconscious decided for me - maybe my subconscious thought it was time for a break. Think of me as a computer!” He declared, trying to lighten the mood a little. “I was reset. Turned off for ten seconds, and then turned back on again. Cookies cleared, history wiped,” he smiled.

<Jersey> She had thought that, too. Kallista hadn’t been the one she was concerned with killing him, however, not with how she had reacted to Jersey dying in her arms. She didn’t think Danton would have, either, as she considered it and curled into his side. Nakia, even, was someone Jersey didn’t think would do it and she generally knocked the blonde on her *** repeatedly over the past week. Had she still been human, there would have been multiple bruises and scrapes along her body. “I know.” She spoke quietly and closed her eyes, lifting her hand to rub at her face lightly. The blonde listened to him speak, her fingertips curling into his backside briefly before she moved her arm to wrap around him gently. Possessively, almost. His words hurt, but as he spoke, she knew he was only doing it to be open with her, not to hurt her. He was her Peter, and even as she gave a pained little laugh, it was obvious that she was glad he was back to normal as she followed after the dogs. The weight of his arm was reassurance that he wasn’t going to leave and she only gave a nod of her head. “I’m glad you talked to them.” And it was true as she lifted her hand once more to wipe at her face. When he compared himself to a computer, she felt her lips twitch. “I thought you weren’t a fan of technology.” She teased playfully. Jersey stopped for a moment to lean up and pressed a kiss to his lips until Bear pulled her away. She gave a huff, muttering about impatient fur balls as she pulled back, telling him to calm and then she looked up at Peter. “So, you’re essentially starting over with everything?” She asked, referring to his comment about being reset.

<Peter Parkman> It was better to talk about technology - and his preference for or against - rather than to focus on his own roiling emotions. The conclusions that he’d come to on his own, the contradictory nature of it all. There hadn’t been a moment in his life where Peter had fully fit in. He’d always been somewhat of an outlier, even if sometimes he was an outlier that was needed in order to create the whole - like a glue that’s just there, that no one notices until it starts to crumble and fall apart. He wanted to be able to fit in, now. To be able to brush aside the violence; to indulge in it, like the others seemed to like to do. But he wasn’t sure he was going to be able to do so.

It wasn’t long before they were out of the doors of the apartment complex and on the street. The dogs knew where they were going. They were smart creatures. At least, one of them knew where he or she was going and led the pack, somehow. Peter found himself watching the animals more often than not, wanting to know what it might be like to be one of them. As much as he may have thought of himself as having been reset, he was still the same old Peter, and Jersey’s comments had his brows furrowing, rationality taking the fore. “Just because I compared myself to a computer doesn’t mean I suddenly have a newfound fondness for technology,” he said, matter-of-factly. “You ask the question as if it were pre-determined. I didn’t plan on starting over with everything,” he said, and then he stopped, voice hitched, the question truly taking hold of his brain. He shook his head. “And how do you mean, anyway? If I were going to start over with everything I wouldn’t be here with you. I wouldn’t… wouldn’t be going back to my own home,” he said. He’d had plenty of problems with technology in the past. He’d had to have viruses removed, or whatever it was that was slowing his machine down. The tech guy had explained it to him - a system restore, except all the files would remain the same. They’d stay where they were, but every other setting would be reset. Peter hadn’t fully understood it, but he kind of understood now. He licked his lips as he tried to think of how to explain it.

“I’m not starting anything new. Maybe ‘reset’ is the wrong word. I’m still exactly the same, I’ve just got a clearer head, is all,” he said, tapping at his temple.

<Jersey> Her panic had been something that she had been right about, he had been thinking if he’d be able to come back to her or not, and Jersey felt that, while understandable, was hurtful. Lightly, she slipped her thumb underneath the hem of his shirt and stroked the bare skin there. Keara and Enver had helped him make his decision, but for how much? Ultimately, the decision itself had been Peter’s and he had come back to her. She’d been that close to losing him because she had lost her temper with everything – with Kallista, with him – and lashed out. She didn’t carry her weapons with her any more, she wouldn’t. Her powers were enough damage on their own, mentally, but she didn’t think she could ever do anything against him again. Jersey fell quiet as she just considered her own fear, her anger and the hurt that she’d felt over the past few months. The cause of it all, Peter and Kallista fighting, had come to a conclusion. His OCD from what she could see even in just his outfit, had subsided somehow – which confused her, but made her happy because it meant it would be easier for him. How hard had her sire actually hit him? She knew that there had been a fracture; she’d felt it while cleaning blood from his hair carefully. Listening to him, green eyes lifted to his handsome features and she gave a soft shake of her head. “I was teasing you.” She responded to the matter-of-fact tone before her lips turned down into a soft frown while he stopped and she turned to face him, the dogs sitting as she lifted her chin to look at him properly. Her lips parted to respond to something sarcastically before they closed and she gave a soft shake of her head once more. “Not everything entirely. I mean,” Jersey started before she fell quiet again and tried to figure out what exactly she meant so she wouldn’t have to continue on for a while. As she did, it became evident that she hadn’t been sleeping well. “With all of this being over, the fighting with my family, once you’re done talking to the others, do you plan to put it all behind you, have a clear slate and move forward in life over time?” And then he explained it more, and she narrowed her eyes as she thought for the word, “Maybe restore?” She offered. She’d beginning to learn how to hack from her mind – it helped having it all connected there, but it was also a major headache from time to time.

<Peter Parkman> Jersey stopped and Peter was forced to face her. He turned his gaze away from the dogs and the path stretching out in front of them - the one that his brain mapped out, that he could see, even if it might not be a visible path to everyone else. He lifted his hand to brush the hair behind his ear and focused only on Jersey. Everything else slipped away, blankets dropping over the presence of the dogs, the path that they needed to take to get to the cabin. Nothing - there was nothing else but Jersey and the words she spoke. The twitch in his heart, the stone that fell when Jersey called them her family. He took a deep breath which he released, very slowly.

Peter could have answered in the positive. He could have answered yes, that he intended to have a clear slate. He could have left it at that. But he didn’t, because that would deny any possibility of a clear slate. It would only allow things to fester. Everything needed to be aired. He held Jersey’s gaze as the words fell into place in his mind, before he said them out loud. He didn’t want them to be misunderstood. He nodded.

“That’s what I want to happen. I want … I want a restore. I want to be able to let it all go and pretend that it never happened. But it’s things like that, Jersey - you called them your family. Things like that, and I will remember, and I will have my doubts. There are sometimes things that we want that we are denied. I grew up not wanting to have OCD but it’s ingrained into my DNA. It will take time, but yes. I have put it behind me, as much as I am able to, and I intent to continue to try to do so. Given time,” he said, slowly. Wanting Jersey to understand.

<Jersey> “I know, Peter.” She spoke softly, and she understood. Things took time and considering he had already gone to Kallista, she could tell he wanted to. Even she doubted that she would have been able to speak to everyone had she been in that situation. She would have likely waited, been furious when she awoke. She stepped closer, her hand lifting to cup his cheek gently, “You’re my family, too, a very important part of it. And your feelings mean a lot to me.” The blonde considered on what to say next, what to do next. He had come back to her and they were talking about everything. That was a good thing, wasn’t it? “I don’t expect you to ever care for them, or like them. At this point, you can ignore them for all eternity after you talk to them if that’s best for you.” Her green eyes lifted to his features and she bit her lip, “Because that is what is important. You need to do what’s best for you and that’s what I want for you.” Jersey let her hand fall to rest against his chest, a small nod of her head following his words. “We’ll just have to wait and see what happens then, won’t we?” There was a smile on her lips that showed her words were sincere. Leaning up, she pressed a kiss to the corner of his lips, letting it linger for a few moments before she leaned back down. Her heart was heavy, but she was glad that it was all getting out in the open. That’s what she had always suggested before in their relationship, wasn’t it? Adjusting to put all of her leads in one hand, Jersey reached to his free one and laced their fingers together, giving it a squeeze. “Let’s go home?” She offered quietly, inclining her head as her hair fell over one shoulder, a few shorter strands falling in front of her face that she looked up and tried to blow back into place before she gave up.

<Peter Parkman> Peter frowned. Yes, he wanted to go home, but he still felt as if Jersey were differentiating. As if he and they were separate entities. He shook his head, even as he took her hand and allowed them to begin to drift again down that path to home.

“If we’re all going to get past this you need to stop differentiating between them and me,” he said. “We are all Vedarian. We all belong under that banner; it’s Keara’s blood that runs through all of us, to make us what we are. She is our original,” he said, slowly. “You speak as if they’re your family and I’m your family but that they’re not my family, or vice versa. They were my family. They are my family. If they were not, this all wouldn’t have been… wouldn’t be so hard,” he said. Again, he shook his head, his green eyes sweeping across the landscape. He’d been so preoccupied with his business, with sorting everything out, that he hadn’t taken the time to just stop and breathe, to appreciate that fact that he was alive. Regardless of the evil creatures who lived in the wilderness, he ached to get back to the thick greenery, to the whispering of the wind in the trees, to the kind of silence that only the wilderness could carry. Away from the shuffle and bustle of the city, the car horns and the shrieking of drunken women. He may have even subconsciously picked up the pace, in his haste to get there.

“I don’t want to have to hate anyone, or ignore anyone. They are my family, Jersey, as much as you are, as much as Keara is. It wasn’t the bullets or the blades that hurt most, from the very beginning. It was the fact that they are my family,” he explained. And that was it, wasn’t it? Deep down, that’s what the crux of the problem was. It hurt, to feel like he couldn’t trust his own family. If you can’t trust your own family, then who can you trust? Really?

<Jersey> “I’m not differentiating, Peter. I know they’re your family as much as they are mine.” She squeezed his hand, a frown dancing across her lips as she heard him speaking slowly. The blonde glanced up at a few strands of hair that had fallen, the strands Jersey gave a small exhale as she listened to him and her green eyes, considering it all. In truth, none of the fact it was family that attacked him had crossed her mind, that had been a difficult portion of it for him and she fell silent, unsure of what to say. Her thumb traced gently over the back of his hand, thinking. That had been one of the hardest things for her, so what made her think it hadn’t been one of the most difficult for him? Stress? The entire manner? She didn’t know. Lightly, Jersey lifted their hands and pressed a kiss to his knuckles. “I never thought of that.” She spoke after a little while, her voice quiet as she frowned. “And I’m sorry.” Jersey looked down and let some of her hair fall over one shoulder as she stepped closer to him. She knew that she likely shouldn’t be apologizing, again, but what else could she do? He was right. It was their family that had attacked him, and that he had attacked their family. Her lips pressed into a small frown as she exhaled. Reaching up lightly, she tucked some of her hair behind her ear and watched the dogs while they walked. “Then I hope one day it’ll sort out for you, Peter. You’re going to talk to Nakia, Kelly and Danton next?” She asked, deciding a minor change of subject would likely be best, remembering how guilty Nakia had looked after she admitted what had happened the morning. Guilt had played across the woman’s features. “Or, I mean, when you go to.” Her green eyes lifted to his features.

<Peter Parkman> He could have continued. That she had not even considered that it might hurt him more to be attacked by his own family? The people who should have his back. But he had been so entirely alone, and would he always be? Would there always be that doubt? Or would he always feel like he stood alone, independent of all else? No. That was a lie. He should have gone to Keara or Enver, or both. They had his back, and they would always have his back. This was a small comfort.

He nodded. “Yes, I will be speaking to them. At some point,” he says. He hoped that it would help, to some degree. It had helped with Kallista - he didn’t expect her to come after him again, anyway. But it still hadn’t helped that inner anxiety; that doubt that he assumed would linger.

He couldn’t predict what would happen next. After he talked to those he needed to talk to. He assumed that he’d just continue on as he had; he had his businesses. And he had the dogs. There were the remnants of a routine that he could stick to. But why think about it, now? Nothing could come of thinking about it now. So he didn’t. Peter’s movements echoed Jersey’s; he lifted her knuckles to his lips and pressed a kiss to them, the dog’s leads all held firmly in the other hand. He kept his gaze ahead of them.

“It’ll be fine,” he said. And he said it in such a way that the optimism was tainted with just a hint of pessimism. He couldn’t know. But he hoped that it would be all fine.

<Jersey> She nodded her head lightly, “Nakia said she would be waiting after she saw your message on the board.” Jersey thought about the entire situation once more. She remembered how many times that she’d defended Peter against Kallista, and Kallista against Peter and she could swear that her temple tingled in pain as it did just before she would receive a headache. He had told her that there would be no more fighting, and as she played the words back through her head, her shoulders dropped in a relieved manner while she pushed the thoughts aside before she lifted her gaze up to Peter. A gentle smile danced across her lips and she lowered her gaze lightly to her feet. It was obvious that she was wary, concerned and when he kissed her knuckles, she resumed rubbing sort circles into the back of his hand. When he spoke again, she nodded her head and offered a half smile, “We’ll just have to see.” She lightly stepped over a puddle and glanced around, thinking quietly to herself before speaking again, “I can’t believe summer is almost over. Winter will be here before we know it.” What she couldn’t quite believe was how fast time was going by. Would it always be this way? Would she blink one day and it be too far into the future? Jersey ran her tongue along the back of her teeth. “You know...” She paused in her thoughts, “We’ve been together for six months and still haven’t gone on that date.”

<Peter Parkman> And so Nakia should be waiting, Peter assumed - he was the one who’d said he’d speak to them. It did make him wonder, however, why they might not make the move before he could. He pushed the thought aside before it could take root. There were plenty of reasons. He wasn’t sure how he would react if any one of them randomly showed up on his doorstep. Best to approach them on his own terms.

And just like that, Jersey had changed the topic. Not just once, but twice. To the weather -Peter didn’t want it to be Winter again. He preferred the Summer, as much as it could be Summer where they were. He was in love with the greenery. With the lushness of nature, the growth out there, in the wilderness. Where he made his home. He didn’t think he could ever give up the cabin. Because even in Winter, there was the fire, the comfort of the rustic atmosphere. He took a deep breath, holding it in his lungs, relishing in the current weather.

The weather was dismissed very quickly, however, in lieu of a comment upon their lack of dates. Peter laughed, under his breath. “I know. I’m sorry. I’ve been a bit preoccupied,” he said. It wasn’t untrue. In the last few months, there was no way she’d have got him out dancing. It would not have ended well. Now that he seemed to be back to normal, however, maybe he would have a better go at it.

“How about we lock in this time next week?” he said. “Buy yourself a nice new dress and we’ll go somewhere nice, hm?”

<Jersey> When she got uncomfortable, or just didn’t want to continue on the subject, it had always been easier, she found to change it. With the weather, it was easier. She could talk about the leaves and the sunsets for hours. She didn’t have a favorite season, at least not at the moment. When she was alive, she hated the winter, but that was simply because it got so cold. “Does it really not affect us, the cold?” She asked after a few minutes, thinking back to the time he wore only a thin cardigan. “I mean all those times I asked you, you never seemed bothered in the least.” Her lips twitched in amusement and she squeezed his hand firmly, “I know.” She pressed a kiss to his shoulder and sighed in thought. Her gaze lift to his features with a smile playing across her lips. “And you don’t need to apologize for it. I know it’s been... a long few months.” Jersey didn’t particularly mind that they hadn’t gone on their date; it didn’t define their relationship, did it? He loved her, she loved him. They didn’t need to be traditional as long as they were happy together. “That’ll be great, Peter.” She wasn’t much of a shopper, preferring to wear her clothes until they were threadbare. Her favorite pair of jeans were already faded in the knees. What she liked when it came to clothing was that she was comfortable, it was as simple as that.

<Peter Parkman> Peter shrugged his shoulders. He didn’t particularly want to think about the blood that ran through his veins, because his blood primarily and generally freaked him out. The fact that it wasn’t even blood. It was some kind of shadowy substance that he couldn’t understand. It certainly didn’t hold any warmth. The truth was, he hadn’t had this discussion with anyone before.

“It might be different for each person. It doesn’t affect me. My blood isn’t hot. It’s not even warm. It’s cold. I can feel that it’s cold but I don’t feel the need to avoid it,” he said. He didn’t quite know how to explain it, and he knew there’d have to be some kind of scientific explanation. Like cold-blooded amphibians adapt to the temperature around them. He supposed it could be the same for vampires. The crispness of the atmosphere doesn’t affect a body that no longer strives to keep itself warm. A body that can no longer die of hypothermia. A body that could, over time, take on the alabaster qualities of marble.

“Maybe that’s just me though. Maybe that’s just the way my path reacts to the cold. Maybe your path is different,” he says, turning his gaze down to Jersey. They were nearing the edge of the city at this point; getting a little closer to the wilderness, and thus to their destination.

“Why, do you react to the temperature? Have you, so far? Even to the heat?” he asked. Because it worked the opposite way, too - he could wear jackets and suits in the height of Summer and he wouldn’t sweat. He wouldn’t overheat. He’d be perfectly fine.

<Jersey> She’d felt his blood before during the times she’d found him injured. They were occasions that she didn’t linger on, although she’d found that his blood didn’t bother her. Perhaps it was because of just the substance and color allowing her to continuously tell herself that it was ink, but she fooled herself enough that she didn’t find herself feeling ill. Her own blood was something she was getting less and less panicked about, due to the gunshots that she’d received. Pain, however, was the opposite. “Mine is cold, too.” Jersey lifted her gaze to meet his after he’d asked his questions, glancing down to the clothes she wore, “I dress from habit I suppose unless we’re in the cabin and I don’t plan to leave it until I have to get up for work or we go out for a walk. Then I wear what I’m comfortable in because the weather doesn’t bother me like it used to.” She thought about how she would wear shorts around the cabin after her turning and would only put pants on to go outside. When he asked why, she just shook her head. “For the most part, I’m just asking questions to get different perspectives. There’s always new information to learn about this life, the paths too, so I was simply curious about what you felt to the temperature.” She explained as she inclined her head. The blonde exhaled quietly and then took in another breath of fresh air. Ellie and Jack stopped to sniff, prompting Jersey to pause in her steps for only a moment before she continued to fall back into step beside him. After a few minutes, she lifted her gaze to the tree line, her green eyes looking over the detail. There were things that she’d hope she’d never get used to; the clarity in her sight, the way certain things felt and looked, even scents.

Lifting their hands, she rubbed her thumb briefly over the spot where her eyebrow had once been cut before lowering it once more and went over things in her mind, sorting information she’d learned and what she knew as they walked.

<Peter Parkman> The weather and Peter’s reaction to it was not something that Peter had spent too much time agonizing over. He shook his head even as he shrugged his shoulders. “There is a lot of new information, yes,” he said. He recalled that one night that he’d spent with Keara, testing and trying all the abilities and powers that his sire had thought he would be capable of. That was the night that he’d learned he could break into people’s homes without an invitation. He remembered the specific conversation, too - the way he’d said to Keara that he could never think of using such a power for ill will. But he had. Oh, he had - and then, only earlier that evening, Keara telling him that violence was a part of their nature. He took a breath and licked his lips.

“There are far weightier things to be curious about than the weather, however,” he said. The tone of voice was almost like the one he’d adopted in the classroom - when he’d wanted to impress upon the students how important Philosophy was in the understanding of History. When he wanted to derail the tangent the class may have gotten on to due to a question that wasn’t particularly relevant. At least, it wasn’t relevant in terms of the syllabus. And in regards to Jersey, right there and then, her curiosities were not relevant when compared to his own.

“At least, I think so. At this point. There’s more for me to consider than just how my skin feels in comparison to the temperature outside,” he said as he watched the dogs, as they grew more alert and frenetic as they all plunged into the relative darkness of the wilderness, the path on the road out to the cabins dimly lit in comparison to the city they’d just left behind.

“I’m more concerned with instinct. With how much this new entity inside of me will affect my own personality and standing, over time. With its proclivity toward violence--nature versus perceived notions of how we should be, how we should act…” he stopped. Again, shook his head. It was all still too cloudy in his own mind. He needed to be able to sit down and write it all down. Maybe he’d have to start a journal. Not the journal he already ran, as a published business. But a personal one. Just to get his thoughts in order.

[Jersey]

"I do think of other things than just the weather." She rolled her eyes as she walked, her hair tickling her cheek as a light breeze brushed it past. One of them had been brought to her thoughts by Keara, when the woman had mentioned it wasn't always that vampires had returned after death. There was also that it only happened in Harper Rock. The tone of his voice changing had her almost sighing as they walked, halfway amused. "It's just generally the easiest subject to touch on because everyone is able to relate on it with varied opinions." As the sound of her footsteps adjusted from concrete to dirt, she hummed gently in thought.

That was something she also thought about. "Even without what being what we are, love, evolution could change personality." Or other things, such as memories, which her accident had proven. "But I do get your point." Certain instincts were difficult go suppress, others were not. Her reactions to situations could surprise her, such as when she got harassed by a blood thief sometime ago and Kallista had calmed her after. The moment he had touched her, she'd been repulsed and broken his arm, the effort in which it had been had shocked her completely. Violently lashing out, as she had with Peter, was also an instinct she hadn't wanted and done automatically and it made her stomach churn as she considered it again. Her green eyes lowered to his legs, no trace of that wound bothering his step.

During the time he had been outcold, she'd also been difficult to get to feed at first. The first night, she hadn't fed on a normal schedule and she didn't. The second night brought a burning to her throat and she had ignored it, thinking it was psychosomatic. She hadn't ever thought about what happened when she suppressed the need to feed until then, remembering how hard she needed to when she came back to her senses. It had overpowered everything and she felt like a druggie in need of a hit. She could remember the first time that Kallista had lured her to the apartment, the instinct to run from the vampire muffled by a desire to remain there. She still didn't understand that power worked, either. "You'll figure it out." Jersey said gently as he stopped and she squeezed his hand affectionately.

"It bothers me sometimes, the animalistic tendencies that take over." The need to feed, the violence. She didn't like it, but she was beginning to understand the need for it. Remembering the zombies in the quarantine zone and how her sire used them for rituals, Jersey had been shocked when she explained that the ears were a basic thing. Zombies made her lose the blood she would drink as the two trained together. She had been thinking, though, about the monsters in the city. Mooncalves, ancient zombies, zombie wolves. If she had to pick being violent against something that could hurt a clueless human being versus doing it herself and hurting them or a living animal, there was no contest. Bottling up certain instincts didn't handle well as she recalled the night they had all but said **** it and ended up in bed for the first time. That thought had her lips curving into a faint smirk before she chuckled to herself and shook her head.

Jersey fell into comfortable silence again, relieved as each step brought them closer to his cabin. She listened for any disturbing sound, be it another vampire, Fae or animal while she remained on alert and after a little while, she released her hold on his hand to curl her arm around his waist as she squeezed him close.

[Peter Parkman]

The weather might be an easy topic, but to Peter, that didn’t make it all that interesting. Except if the topic turned to global warming, and then he might get heated. The way the world seemed to want to ignore the clues. Or if, for example, there was a volcanic eruption in Iceland, and the dust cloud wreaked havoc upon the world. Now that was interesting. Otherwise, Peter’ll bring up the weather if the silence is awkward and all other topics have been exhausted. Or, if a situation is tense and the current topic needed to be derailed.

But of course, he had wits enough about him to know that it was a trivial thing to argue, and thus he kept quiet about it. Jersey had her opinion and he had his, and that was all that mattered.

He canted his head to the side. Of course Jersey had her point, too – people’s personalities change due to life and its hurdles. Over time, everyone is bound to grow and learn, and make mistakes. People can become their polar opposites, given the right circumstances. He should have worded it differently, he supposed. But he would wait for Jersey to finish before he elucidated his point.

”Over time, I did say. I think when we were fed the blood that made us immortal, something big was unleashed inside of us. Something that didn’t change our personalities immediately, per se, but which magnified them. These tendencies, maybe we had them all along. Whatever made us who we were before, was made louder, more prominent. ,” he said. He was aware that he was talking a lot, but he couldn’t help it. This was something that he had thought about before, but only now did he feel it was really, very important.

If he could identify all the different things that made him who he was, if he could figure out how and why certain aspects were magnified and not others – or whether all aspects were magnified, and by how much – he’d be another step closer to learning how to control himself. How to override his anxiety, and remain calm in situations that were out of his control.

”The animalistic tendencies worry me, too. But I do wonder whether it’s not vampirism that’s introduced them to us, but whether it is just a trait inherent in humanity. There’s nothing we can do to escape it. Maybe we just face it head on and try to conquer it,” he said with a light shrug. Through the trees he could see the glimmer of the gate, the welcome into the estate that housed their cabin. The dogs strained on their leashes. They knew they were getting closer to home.

[Jersey]

In the time that she'd known Peter, she always felt that she was the one to do most of the talking. Listening to him, she didn't mind the topic either; they had their opinions and thoughts, and it was nice to feel comfortable enough with someone to actual discuss differences. While she knew Nakia would talk with her, Jersey's female sibling generally daydreamed when it came to certain topics and occasionally, Danton used words that she didn't understand without getting googling them.

"That makes sense." She thought over his words, thinking about the different paths as they walked. After Kallista had described what she was - a mystic - and Jersey a telepath, and then Peter as a shadow, it had made her curious about what made them shift into different types of vampires.

Time was the key to everything, it seemed. Understanding what made her a telepath and not something else, the blonde looked forward to it all admittedly. It gave her things to write about, observe. She'd always been rather curious as it had even lead to her learning about the vampires in the city - although she could also add that about being curious to why Peter used to almost jump out of his skin whenever she would hit on him.

"I've thought about that. Humans are predators, so perhaps it just heightens that violence even if the individuals themselves prefer to be peaceful." She frowned, and then gave him a gentle squeeze. After everything he'd been through, she was sure facing that head on wouldn't be too difficult of a task.

"If it comes to that, we can help each other through it and conquer it together?" She offered, her hand sliding from his side back to his. Jersey looked down at the dogs with a soft smile playing across her lips as she noticed their excitement and picked up her pace just enough so she wouldn't end up being pulled by Bear.

After a few moments, her green eyes moved to Peter and she offered a playful smirk as she considered something quietly. With an incline of her head, she asked, "Are you still up for being undressed when we get home?" Jersey squeezed his hand once more, stepping over a branch that she would have tripped over in the past.

[Peter Parkman]

Help each other through it and conquer it together. These are the words that stick, with Peter. The ones he focuses on, and which have his brows furrowing. He had already succumbed to the violence of which he was speaking; that nature that is inherent within them, which is natural, but which he never wanted. One that he will, from now on, try to resist at all costs regardless of how much Keara might want to convince him that it was natural.

He would have hoped that there would have been someone there to help him, as the violence dug its claws in. Someone help him through it, to help him conquer it rather than act upon it. Someone who wouldn’t lash out at him as a means of coping. His lips had pressed momentarily into a tight line; he wouldn’t say it. He wouldn’t say that Jersey’s time to help him through it had passed. That ship had come and gone and she’d left without him.

Though, he had to take a step back. She had apologised. She had said she had acted out of character. She too was perhaps victim to this thing that he wanted to be rid of. In the clutches of something that neither of them could understand, neither of them had the chance to help the other. They could only continue to react, without thought. He had to try to let it go.

And so he released the breath that he had taken. And with it, he released his anxieties – at least the ones that lingered on the surface. They’d still be there, underneath, but for the time being they were fine. It would be fine. Their strength and will could be tested in the future, but for now they were fine. For now, they’d already had that conversation and Peter didn’t have it in him to bring it up again. So, with that released breath he smiled. He went with the flow. He clung to the change of subject like it was a life buoy. Climb onto it or drown.

”A man does have to shower,” he said. ”Which requires a state of undress,” he added, pretending like he was serious. Like that was the only reason he’d be getting undressed any time soon. Even when he felt clean enough – he didn’t need to shower. But he would. There was something ritualistic about showering. As if it didn’t wash away just the physical dirt and grime, but the emotional stress of the night, too.

[Jersey]

She knew she should have stayed, took the confrontation and not tomed, but in the end she'd been weak. It was something she'd have to live with and as she walked, Jersey lowered her green eyes. There was nothing that could be changed in the past, that had been something the two had discussed before. Just as she couldn't change her memory loss and he couldn't change his losses, what had happened was now in the past and behind them. "As long as you don't give into it again, you'll be fine." There were things about being human that she missed, her control over her temper and impulses being one of them.

She'd hurt him before, not just the leg, the difference being she hadn't used her knife. Jersey had grabbed him by his shirt after their first fight and had pulled him to her level, reinjuring the ribs that her sire had broken. With a frown playing across her lips, she gently shook her head to clear her head from her thoughts. Tightening her grip just slightly on his hand, the blonde thought about the instincts that they had mentioned. Some, she knew, such as staying close to him and keeping some sort of physical had been there before. Even glaring was normal for Jersey. Subconsciously, she had attacked Kallista when she was angry with her for attacking Peter...

Jersey pushed all of the thoughts aside when she heard him release his breath, her bright eyes lifting from her feet to his features. The corners of her lips lifted as he smiled before she gave a light roll of her eyes. "Maybe you should keep on just the towel when you're done and come relax with me in bed after." She suggested, although she traced her thumb slowly along his knuckles, "Or on the couch, doesn't matter where." Giving him a playful smirk, she turned her attention to the dogs as they became more excited and chuckled, "Home sweet home."

[Peter Parkman]

For all intents and purposes, Peter had returned to normalcy. If he were travelling off the rails, hiking through some wild bushland of anarchy in his mind, he’d have dropped the dog’s leads and would have started to undress right there in the middle of the wilderness. He’d have left a trail of clothing all the way up to the cabin, and Jersey would have been helpless but to follow him and pick up the crumbs.

Normalcy, however, has Peter knowing that he wouldn’t be removing any clothes until he was back inside and the doors were locked. Until the leads had been nicely hung back where they belonged, and the dogs were fed and watered.

”I know your womanly wily ways. You say come relax on the bed but I know I should read between the lines,” he said. This wasn’t a thing that they did, ordinarily. Normally, the idea of ‘relaxing’ naked in bed would have Peter sprinting in the opposite direction. The idea of being naked at all would mean only temptation, and something to be avoided.

He and Jersey knew each other intimately. They were not strangers to each other in the bedroom, but nor were they completely familiar with each other either. How many times had it been? Twice? Both times, Peter wasn’t himself. He’d been driven by anger, or by loss of control. Suddenly, he was nervous again. He wasn’t sure he’d know his way around properly. Not without the violence that had been there before.

That wasn’t right. That couldn’t be right. Of course he’d be able to find his way around. He huffed, and pushing his fingers through his hair. So although he’d responded with light banter, although he had initiated an acceptance of where they were headed and what would likely happen – what he wanted to happen – he now started to get a little jittery. Hunter walked by his side, and his hand dropped to the very large dog’s back, patting him distractedly.

They were getting closer. The trees thinned out. The rough ground got smoother. And Peter all of a sudden felt the need to run—but he didn’t. He kept pace with Jersey, and with the dogs. He swallowed air, and tried to concentrate instead on just how good it was to be there. And alive. And calm. Calm-ish.

[Jersey]

To say she was expecting the response she received would be a lie, and her surprise showed across her features before she ultimately chuckled. "Hey," She said defensively, but her tone remained light hearted, "I might actually just want too cuddle with my boyfriend." Although he was right and he knew her too well. Still, as she looked up at Peter, her green eyes were questioning.

Normally, there would be a change of subject or something else along those lines, so she couldn't admit to find it a bit odd. Stroking his skin with her thumb as she stayed quiet in thought and trying to debate whether or not to ask about it, Jersey had a look of concentration on her features. She could still feel the way his hands had felt on her hips the night they had first fight and she remembered his reaction the next morning. And then the last time... It had been less with haste, but again the result of a fight. She'd been mad at him for breaking into the apartment and wanted to talk about it and he had successfully distracted her from that task.

"Cheeky ***." She thought and shook her head despite the small smile that graced her lips. Hearing a huff, Jersey looked to the dogs as she first thought it came from them until she realized it'd come from above her ear level and she looked up at Peter. She caught the end of his fingers being pushed through his hair and once again, she smiled. "What was that for?" Jersey asked before she looked him over, her eyes once more landing on his face. She watched his actions curiously and then reached up to push some of her hair over her shoulder as they went.

"There's the Peter I know." Jersey thought, lifting her hand lightly to toy with the key he'd given her in the beginning that she wore on a simple chain around her neck. Fidgeting. It was something she'd begun to do, but she had done it in other ways before, hadn't she? Her nail gently scratched beneath the key before she untucked it from the cloth of her sweater. As they made it closer to the cabin, she inclined her head as she looked up at him with a small smile. "You know I don't care if our clothes are on or off this evening, right? All I really want is to just be able to spend the rest of the night with you, no one else." And with that, she took her phone out and turned it off.

[Peter Parkman]

Jersey already had the key to the cabin out, so Peter didn’t have to go digging into his pockets. Though, even as he thought about it, he knew he wouldn’t find his key in them. How long had it been since he’d been back at the cabin? Too long. Where had he put that key, after he’d taken the dogs to the Animal Rescue and had gone to make himself at home in that abandoned apartment? What had happened to the clothes he’d been wearing? He assumed the key would be somewhere – in the bag of stuff that he now had slung over his shoulder, ready to be put away when they got home again. Tucked into a pocket somewhere – not the pocket that he himself would have used. It would be no use to go rifling – it would only frustrate him.

”I know,” he said. And he did know. Jersey had always been sweet like that. She knew he was uncomfortable and though she did tease, she never pushed and she never got angry with him for withholding. He knew that if he asked, she would simply curl up with him on the couch in front of the fire or huddled fully-clothed beneath the blankets in the bed.

”But Enver was right. In the end, we’re still basically human. And I… I shouldn’t bottle anything that I… well if there’s something I want I shouldn’t deny…” he huffed again. Beating around the bush wasn’t his forte, and though the conversation had him uncomfortable, there was nothing he could do but be blunt. He could have tried to sweet-talk. But bluntness seemed to work best for him. Straight to the point. It’s what people seemed to like these days. They had no time for faffing around.

”What I’m trying to say is that I thoroughly enjoy being unclothed with you, Jersey, and if I don’t allow myself the pleasure of it more often then it will only end badly. Hastily. Rushed, with things forgotten and the usual cares not taken care of,” he said in a rush, the words tumbling from his tongue. Logical. It was all pure logic. Somehow, he’d managed to condense sex down to a logical step in the right direction; a step toward consuming one’s pleasures in small doses so as not to binge all at once and regret it afterwards. In moderation, yes. Moderation was key.

They’re reached the door. The dogs were shuffling around – Jack was standing on his two back legs, his front paws scrabbling at the hard wood of the door as he waited impatiently for it to be opened. Lady’s head nudged against the locked dog door – the one through which neither Hunter or Bear could fit through (as much as they might try). And Peter just stood, waiting for Jersey to unlock the door.