Post by farcry11 on May 2, 2014 5:29:03 GMT
Peter pushed open the door to his flat quietly, gingerly. Peering inside, he saw it completely as he had left it, and entered. Walking down a short little hall to his living room, he set his duffel bag down and sat down heavily on the couch, taking off his eyepatch as he did so. He was at home now- he didn't need to impress anyone, hide his deformity. It was good to be back.
A sudden "Mrow!" from behind him caused Peter to jump, and he craned his head around to see his cat jump up on the back of the couch. It meowed directly in to his face.
"Huh, so yer not dead. Guess Missus Aranciata kept her promise n' fed you then, eh?", Peter said, scritching the feline behind his ears. Nigel, he was named- a resilient cat- some kind of heavily mixed mutt. He was essentially Peter's only friend as well, the one that was always there for him. Needless to say, he had taken to talking to the cat quite a bit.
Peter smiled softly as the cat jumped down and curled up in his lap, purring softly. He petted it gently and idly, leaning his head back on the couch. The loyalty implant in his neck still bothered him sometimes, and the tracking implant in his arm wasn't much better- but they were preferable to languishing in a CentComm prison cell, or enduring days of torture. He had Selvion to thank for his new situation, and as much as it irked him to accept favors from that spineless, dead-eyed bastard, he was still greatful. He sighed softly.
With Selvion pulling the right strings, Peter would escape most of his punishment- but he would likely bear the implants for a long, long time. He wondered what would become of Adrianna, but then thought against it- whenever he pondered that woman for too long, he became rather emotional. That wasn't what he needed right now, not at all. Pete let out a long, low sigh, then took off his jacket and slung it carelessly over the back of his couch. He got up and ambled slowly to his bedroom, Nigel at his heels.
Staring up at the ceiling, Peter found his mind wandering again... "You can't help who you love," she had said. He agonized over those words from time to time- perhaps because they were so irreversibly true. He couldn't help his love for her as much as she couldn't help her love for Renworth, or Dilgan, or whoever else- even though they had spurned her, hurt her, cast her aside time and time again. But she was stubborn- he knew this- and he wouldn't try to tell her she was wrong. After all, he acted just like she did, after a fashion.
But he couldn't think about that for too long- it made him rather emotional. He had to focus on the positives in his life. He had all of his limbs. He still had one eye. He had a home- he WAS home. Rolling over on his bed, he stared out of the window for a moment- another rainy night in Lowell. He liked the rain... Calming, constant. His eye shut, and he smiled slightly to himself. He was happy here; he was home.
A sudden "Mrow!" from behind him caused Peter to jump, and he craned his head around to see his cat jump up on the back of the couch. It meowed directly in to his face.
"Huh, so yer not dead. Guess Missus Aranciata kept her promise n' fed you then, eh?", Peter said, scritching the feline behind his ears. Nigel, he was named- a resilient cat- some kind of heavily mixed mutt. He was essentially Peter's only friend as well, the one that was always there for him. Needless to say, he had taken to talking to the cat quite a bit.
Peter smiled softly as the cat jumped down and curled up in his lap, purring softly. He petted it gently and idly, leaning his head back on the couch. The loyalty implant in his neck still bothered him sometimes, and the tracking implant in his arm wasn't much better- but they were preferable to languishing in a CentComm prison cell, or enduring days of torture. He had Selvion to thank for his new situation, and as much as it irked him to accept favors from that spineless, dead-eyed bastard, he was still greatful. He sighed softly.
With Selvion pulling the right strings, Peter would escape most of his punishment- but he would likely bear the implants for a long, long time. He wondered what would become of Adrianna, but then thought against it- whenever he pondered that woman for too long, he became rather emotional. That wasn't what he needed right now, not at all. Pete let out a long, low sigh, then took off his jacket and slung it carelessly over the back of his couch. He got up and ambled slowly to his bedroom, Nigel at his heels.
Staring up at the ceiling, Peter found his mind wandering again... "You can't help who you love," she had said. He agonized over those words from time to time- perhaps because they were so irreversibly true. He couldn't help his love for her as much as she couldn't help her love for Renworth, or Dilgan, or whoever else- even though they had spurned her, hurt her, cast her aside time and time again. But she was stubborn- he knew this- and he wouldn't try to tell her she was wrong. After all, he acted just like she did, after a fashion.
But he couldn't think about that for too long- it made him rather emotional. He had to focus on the positives in his life. He had all of his limbs. He still had one eye. He had a home- he WAS home. Rolling over on his bed, he stared out of the window for a moment- another rainy night in Lowell. He liked the rain... Calming, constant. His eye shut, and he smiled slightly to himself. He was happy here; he was home.