[when the caravans arrive from their travels to drop off supplies from not-so-far-off lands, certain parcels get pulled away and taken to go through customs. they are not for businesses nor for sale, but for individuals. the fact that they are for summoned individuals raise an eyebrow.
and so, through customs it goes, opened, inspected, and then—when none of the items are deemed as questionable—they are repackaged and sent to their designated recipients.
peter will find several bottles topped to the brim, soaps, a comb, and a leather-bound book. the bottles will contain an assortment of products: shampoo, conditioner, and even moisturizer. she's included, among the bottles, a more familiar looking chapstick—just like the kind one can get in any story around their world.
there is something heavier, though, contained inside a pouch. should peter open it, he will find a piece of paper, blank. at first, anyway; the writing on the paper will appear to him in swathes of scarlet, as if being penciled for the first time by an invisible hand.
I thought you might enjoy putting this together. Let me know if you have every piece, and if I got the measurements right. Maybe you can use the book to write your ideas. Sorry I couldn't get you a laptop, or whatever kids your age use to write down their thoughts.
in the pouch, there are several bolts, screws, and random electrical pieces and tools that peter can play with. it's meant to be based off peter's design for his web shooters. however, despite what she wrote, there will be a piece missing. it will find him, perhaps, should tony understand the message he got, or perhaps peter can ask his mentor for help and find it that way.]
[ when peter finds the package at their doorstep — a few of them — he brings them in, sets them on the kitchen table, and catches the one addressed to him by surprise.
he wasn't — expecting mail. and at first his mind balks. he didn't order anything, he thinks, fingers untying the wrapping. he notes, curiously, that it seems to have been re-wrapped. a crease here and there that seems to have been folded back over as opposed to once.
and then the contents tumble out and he spends a good chunk of time, sitting on his bed with the pile in front of him. the note writes itself in a crimson he recognizes and it all makes a sharp sort of sense and his heart drums a fast rhythm in his chest. she didn't have to do that, he thinks. he didn't think he'd get a care package again.
the parts fall from the pouch and into his hands and he nearly drops them from the excitement as realization dawns quick and he almost scrambles for his phone until he remembers he doesn't have it.
so, sharply and quickly, wanda will see words across her vision instead. ]
holy crap!! wnada — wanda, sorry !! this is so nice i just got your package i didn't know we could send those here!
how did you get those parts! i hope this wasn't a lot of trouble this is so nice this book is really neat do you need anything from cadens? i can send you stuff back, right?!
[wanda can forgive how sudden and quickly peter's worded message streams across her vision if only because it's endearing that, even this way, peter struggles with writing correctly without any typos.
besides, it's always a treat to hear from him. the world feels a little smaller when she gets to talk to those she cares for in other factions.]
Remember when we talked some time ago and you told me about your web shooters? Made you draw them on paper back in the cabin. I used it as a guide, and all I did was make my magic replicate the parts.
All of it I made with my magic.
I forgot to mention that the book will only open for you and no one else. I hope it comes in handy.
[at the question about whether she would need anything from cadens, wanda stops for a moment and thinks.]
I'm not sure there is anything I would want from there, but you can send things in the caravans. You don't have to, but if you want... I guess, surprise me?
[ if words stumble in type, its only more excessive in the free-flow of writing in your mind's eye — the letters are right, but he shoves them out all at once and its a miracle things are as legible as they are. ]
wow that's so cool thank you so much!!
you really got all the little details, too. i can't wait to put this together — wait, do you think i could combine it with that magic slingy thing i can do now too?
[ the replies are piecemeal, as his hands pass along, away from the disassembled parts to the elegant journal. it opens in his hands, none the wiser to it only being for him. there's a thrill of giddiness when her words dance along his mind, across his vision as he stares at blank pages. did she just....give him a diary? ]
it will. this is really nice thank you for thinking of me.
[ genuinely. with everything going on, with how unpredictable this place has been with its own magic, its own events, peter never thought about something as mundane as a care package and yet - here he was, grinning from ear to ear. ]
oh! okay, i can do that!! i'll send it with the next caravans! i did notice though - they check the packages, i think.
[ authority can be good and all, but a kid from queens doesn't exactly like the idea of them reading his mail. fantasy magic world and do-gooder tendencies side. gotta watch out for the little guy, and that means letting people know officials can snoop through their stuff.
I think you would be the one most capable in answering that question, don't you think? Maybe you should give it a try and see if it works.
[and though she replies, she is that peter has already mentally moved on to something else. it brings a smile to her face when he thanks her for thinking of him. she wants to say of course i would think of you, but stops herself; not only is it perhaps a little too weird, but perhaps it would be painful for peter, who just recently lost a mother figure. it's really hard to encapsulate her feelings towards peter.
he's like a son to her, in many ways.]
I guess they're just trying to be careful.
Here in Solvunn we think we're old gods or something. Everyone's happy to treat us to meals and invite us to important celebrations. It's a little strange, honestly. Maybe they won't be too angry about "offerings" being sent to those they revere.
[ maybe tony can help him, too? although he rather go to either of them with something more to show for it than questions, but — things feel less impossible, less theoretical now.
the last weeks have held many moments - small and large both - that had assured some proverbial connection between them. and peter worries — about the distance between cadens and solvunn, about not being able to help if she needs it; about her disquieting worries of him hating her, from way back when. most of all, and perhaps the hardest to put into words and thoughts and so he hasn't — is what if he loses her too? or what if she goes back home and forgets him?
that isn't a burden to put on anyone else other than himself, but the fear sticks like a tack. something about her rings of familial reminders. that's a little unfair of him too, isn't it?
for now though, he already starts thinking of what he could pass along from here. maybe he can go out tomorrow and grab some stuff? ]
maybe. it just feels kind of... hinky?
it's crazy how different the summoned are looked at between the factions. i didn't realize they thought you're like old gods. not that that's hard to believe! i just didn't think about it that way i guess? it feels like a lot of pressure to put on anyone. or — i don't know, what if someone tries to become a...new god?
[ thanos comes to mind as example of what zealous ideals and misplaced power gets you, after all. it sets his senses on edge.]
[please, she is not caught up in new american/english lingo!]
It would be really worrisome if someone tried. Though your worries are right to exist, even if you are, literally, "thinking out loud". In many ways, refusing their shows of adoration and actions to curry our 'blessings' seems foolish otherwise. To anger religious fanatics could be rather... troublesome.
Everyone so far seems down to earth enough to understand that we aren't these old gods. I'll keep an eye out for any egomaniacs in the meantime.
[ a fair question, wnada, considering this wasn't enough certified Cool Slang. ] yeah... yeah, so long as everyone keeps being fairly reasonable.
i wish there was a way to get over to other factions more easily?[ not that she'd need his help, but it would be nice to know he could get over wherever he was needed!! ]
cadens kind of has this slightly suspicious but generally tolerant vibe? i know we're fairly closely watched by authorities here but like, no one outwardly says we can't do stuff. i do think they'll get tense fast over things and they've been having us report the outcomes of all those weird events that happened recently. like the memories coming out? they don't force you to tell them, but i think they have to keep track of who helps them and who doesnt.
[wanda is, as of now, bonded with peter to the point where she is fully aware of him—whenever she travels into the horizon, she feels him, hears his thoughts and emotions. she's just missed him at his place, but she thinks she can still reach out to him regardless.
with a small cupcake set in front of her, as she sits on the empty table in his apartment, she closes her eyes and—
[ the message comes as a surprise, mainly because he’s just slipped out of his horizon and there’s a moment where he thinks, for some reason, that he’s still there. he thinks he hears her ask more than sees the words, even if they leave a lingering path behind the eyelids, like when you stare too long into the light.
the question catches him off guard. ]
Um,
I’m — I guess I’d be turning 19 this year. Or, in our universe anyway?
[ technically, wouldn’t it be close to his birthday now?
he wasn’t really counting. hadn’t been — it’s like the idea didn’t even cross his mind. ]
[he's quick to reply, at least — like any kid his age would (because peter is a kid, especially with the age he reveals he is; that's so young). she stays quiet for a moment, letting his answer disappear from her vision.
[ he blinks, brows pinching in confusion until — ]
OH coming!
[ it clicks, more or less, after a moment of buffering and it makes him pivot around on the spot, narrowly avoiding banging a knee into the side of his table.
he settles, sits cross-legged and finds himself falling back into his horizon after only a few short breaths.
when he opens his eyes again, its in the kitchen, staring at her sitting at the dining table. he smiles, warm, having had his curiosity get the best of him. ] Hey, what's — Oh. [ eyes direct themselves down, at the cupcake in front of her. he blinks. it's — well, technically, it would be his birthday around this time, wouldn't it? but how did she know? it wasn't like he told anyone. it wasn't like it mattered, what with how timelines intertwined, right? in truth, he hadn't thought twice about it until now. his tone is quiet, a little small. ] Is that why you asked me? About my age?
[wanda waits for peter to come into the horizon, watches as he ventures in towards her with a smile that slowly wanes as he puts the pieces together—her words, the cupcake in front of her, the reason she sits here requesting his presence.
with a soft draw of her breath, wanda stares to the side of the table, and there materializes nineteen candles.
she puts one down right in the center of the cupcake and, picking up another, she raises her hand to offer it to peter. can they fit nineteen candles in a cupcake?]
I think the circumference of the cupcake should... [she nods lightly, as if doing the maths in her head before settling] fit nineteen candles.
package, june 2
and so, through customs it goes, opened, inspected, and then—when none of the items are deemed as questionable—they are repackaged and sent to their designated recipients.
peter will find several bottles topped to the brim, soaps, a comb, and a leather-bound book. the bottles will contain an assortment of products: shampoo, conditioner, and even moisturizer. she's included, among the bottles, a more familiar looking chapstick—just like the kind one can get in any story around their world.
there is something heavier, though, contained inside a pouch. should peter open it, he will find a piece of paper, blank. at first, anyway; the writing on the paper will appear to him in swathes of scarlet, as if being penciled for the first time by an invisible hand.
I thought you might enjoy putting this together. Let me know if you have every piece, and if I got the measurements right. Maybe you can use the book to write your ideas. Sorry I couldn't get you a laptop, or whatever kids your age use to write down their thoughts.
in the pouch, there are several bolts, screws, and random electrical pieces and tools that peter can play with. it's meant to be based off peter's design for his web shooters. however, despite what she wrote, there will be a piece missing. it will find him, perhaps, should tony understand the message he got, or perhaps peter can ask his mentor for help and find it that way.]
no subject
he wasn't — expecting mail. and at first his mind balks. he didn't order anything, he thinks, fingers untying the wrapping. he notes, curiously, that it seems to have been re-wrapped. a crease here and there that seems to have been folded back over as opposed to once.
and then the contents tumble out and he spends a good chunk of time, sitting on his bed with the pile in front of him. the note writes itself in a crimson he recognizes and it all makes a sharp sort of sense and his heart drums a fast rhythm in his chest. she didn't have to do that, he thinks. he didn't think he'd get a care package again.
the parts fall from the pouch and into his hands and he nearly drops them from the excitement as realization dawns quick and he almost scrambles for his phone until he remembers he doesn't have it.
so, sharply and quickly, wanda will see words across her vision instead. ]
no subject
besides, it's always a treat to hear from him. the world feels a little smaller when she gets to talk to those she cares for in other factions.]
[at the question about whether she would need anything from cadens, wanda stops for a moment and thinks.]
no subject
it's...probably not surprising, though. ]
no subject
[and though she replies, she is that peter has already mentally moved on to something else. it brings a smile to her face when he thanks her for thinking of him. she wants to say of course i would think of you, but stops herself; not only is it perhaps a little too weird, but perhaps it would be painful for peter, who just recently lost a mother figure. it's really hard to encapsulate her feelings towards peter.
he's like a son to her, in many ways.]
no subject
the last weeks have held many moments - small and large both - that had assured some proverbial connection between them. and peter worries — about the distance between cadens and solvunn, about not being able to help if she needs it; about her disquieting worries of him hating her, from way back when. most of all, and perhaps the hardest to put into words and thoughts and so he hasn't — is what if he loses her too? or what if she goes back home and forgets him?
that isn't a burden to put on anyone else other than himself, but the fear sticks like a tack. something about her rings of familial reminders. that's a little unfair of him too, isn't it?
for now though, he already starts thinking of what he could pass along from here. maybe he can go out tomorrow and grab some stuff? ] [ thanos comes to mind as example of what zealous ideals and misplaced power gets you, after all. it sets his senses on edge.]
no subject
[please, she is not caught up in new american/english lingo!]
no subject
yeah, so long as everyone keeps being fairly reasonable.
i wish there was a way to get over to other factions more easily?[ not that she'd need his help, but it would be nice to know he could get over wherever he was needed!! ]
no subject
[please don't become an enemy of the state]
august 10
with a small cupcake set in front of her, as she sits on the empty table in his apartment, she closes her eyes and—
sends a message.]
no subject
the question catches him off guard. ] [ technically, wouldn’t it be close to his birthday now?
he wasn’t really counting. hadn’t been — it’s like the idea didn’t even cross his mind. ]
no subject
wanda tries again.]
no subject
he settles, sits cross-legged and finds himself falling back into his horizon after only a few short breaths.
when he opens his eyes again, its in the kitchen, staring at her sitting at the dining table. he smiles, warm, having had his curiosity get the best of him. ] Hey, what's — Oh. [ eyes direct themselves down, at the cupcake in front of her. he blinks. it's — well, technically, it would be his birthday around this time, wouldn't it? but how did she know? it wasn't like he told anyone. it wasn't like it mattered, what with how timelines intertwined, right? in truth, he hadn't thought twice about it until now. his tone is quiet, a little small. ] Is that why you asked me? About my age?
no subject
with a soft draw of her breath, wanda stares to the side of the table, and there materializes nineteen candles.
she puts one down right in the center of the cupcake and, picking up another, she raises her hand to offer it to peter. can they fit nineteen candles in a cupcake?]
I think the circumference of the cupcake should... [she nods lightly, as if doing the maths in her head before settling] fit nineteen candles.
Do you want to try?