rose colored thief

It takes a moment for Juno to figure out why Peter is here, in his room. His mind is going and he’s not holding onto thoughts for more than a few seconds at a time- his eyes slip over Peter’s face, back and forth, trying to find purchase on something, anything, and failing. Finally he lifts a hand to cover Peter’s on his shoulder, still curled up, hurting too much to uncurl, to relax.

His fingers shake.

His skin is cool to the touch.

“Nothing-” he starts, rasps, chokes on, and it sends him into a fit of coughing, blood and thicker things speckling his lips, the floor, and when it subsides his voice is even worse. “Nothing happened. Told you… before. Radiation…”

He trails off, exhausted with the thought of trying to explain. So many words, so many ideas, so much linear timeline to hold onto. It’s already gone from his head. So many things are gone now. Rita’s watching from the corner, and she’s wearing Sarah’s face.

“Sorry,” he rasps, chokes, wheezes around a throatful of things that never should have come up like this. “For leaving.” That’s important. He can remember that.

And.

“Love you. Always- always loved you.” His gaze slips from Peter’s face, hazy, to the corner. Sarah’s smiling, warm. Come on, my little monster. You’re almost there. 

“Shouldn’t have left. You.” He struggles for a second, squeezing Peter’s hand weakly. “Best thing that ever… ever happened to me.” Like an echo. “Wish I could see you… out there. Being you.”

He’s fading fast, breaths coming shallower, slower. It almost doesn’t hurt anymore.

Peter squeezes Juno’s hand hard, tight. “Juno,” he says, feeling oddly breathless. He never wanted to be here again, staring at blood and a cold body and-- He takes a shaky breath. “Juno, please, don’t.” As if he can stop it just by asking. He was on Mars long enough to hear just how fatal radiation poisoning from the atmosphere there can be.

“Juno-- Juno, it’s alright, it’s fine, please... Just don’t leave me again.” He feels absurd and childish, saying it, “I’ll never forgive you-- I won’t--” And his voice shakes as he says it. He sinks down, and then he’s on the floor with Juno. Curled up against his back, surrounding him. Like some kind of horrible echo of the last night they spent together. He keeps Juno’s hand.

He buries his face against the back of Juno’s neck. He can’t pretend or push himself away here, now, in this situation. “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me, you fool,” he breathes. “You know that, don’t you? You’re incredible. And I missed you so much.”

He thinks that he’s likely going to start rambling. That’s alright. He squeezes Juno’s hand again.

@pasderose

Two weeks after Juno arrives at the Ark, he wakes up and realizes he’s drowning.

Not in water. He’s grown used to the play of light through water in his room by now, knows how to see it and still know that he’s safe, that he’s dry and as safe as he’s probably ever been in his life. He knows better than that. No, he’s not drowning in water. He’s drowning in his own blood, in the bits and pieces of his lungs floating in the soup of them, in his own inability to breathe.

That’s called suffocatin’, boss, it ain’t drownin’.

Thanks, Rita.

He rolls to the side and coughs, and coughs, and doesn’t stop coughing, as he hasn’t stopped coughing for the past several days as he’s sequestered himself away in here, ignoring any and all attempts to contact him by way of simply not having looked at his phone to have seen any messages. He’s been sleeping a lot- he’s been cold a lot, and when he’s been awake, he’s noticed his skin going pale in patches.

He’s dying.

No appetite, freezing all the time, exhausted all the time, this goddamn non-stop cough… and now he sees Rita bending over him, scolding him, and his coughing turns into a rattling laugh, like someone trapped a bunch of little metal pellets inside his body and they’re just ricocheting around, bouncing off his ribs. He knows damn well Rita isn’t here.

He reaches out to the bedside table, wavers- he’s so fucking weak, his arm gives out, and he goes toppling onto the floor, but the holophone comes with him, and that’s good enough.

He should shoot a message to Xivu Arath, he thinks, but that thought is fleeting- it comes and it goes, and what stays is message. Message. Message who?

Peter.

He finds the contact on the list, hits it, doesn’t bother with a message- just waits until he hears that voice, so blessedly familiar. He hasn’t spoken with him since the first day he got here, but it feels like a lifetime. God, he misses him, and he’s not sure if he said that out loud or not, his thoughts ringing in his ears like a million voices.

What he does say, between the death-rattle of his breaths and his hacking coughs, wet and thick, is, “Peter,” unable to focus enough to remember aliases, aliases- “Hey. Got a- got-” and he groans, curling up around the phone on the floor, and has to start again. “Hey.” And then he shudders and says, artless, unable to craft words, “Think it’s time to go. C-come… say goodbye,” because that’s what he wants. The only thing he wants, facing his own death.

He doesn’t want to leave him without warning, again, even if Peter isn’t expecting to wake up to him there this time.

“Detective,” Peter says, soft, staring up at the ceiling. He’s feeling melancholy, lost, and he thinks... it would be nice to hear Juno’s voice. But then Juno begins to speak.

Peter doesn’t wait to hear the end of Juno’s words before he hangs up and stumbles out of bed. He pulls himself into clothes, just barely remembers to grab his phone, and he closes the blessedly short distance to Juno’s room. It’s all a blur really until he’s in Juno’s room. To see Juno on the floor, looking... well, he looks terrible... It’s a shock that makes him feel sick to his stomach.

“Juno--” His voice is strangled. He shuts the door behind himself and he drops to his knees, reaching out to touch his shoulder. He breathes, once again, “Juno... Juno, what is it? What happened?” His other hand finds Juno’s cheek. Because he can’t quite help himself. He wants to feel the warmth of him, as part of him is suddenly afraid that he won’t be able to anymore.

Juno flinches, and his silence is answer enough- and he opens his mouth, closes it again, then says, “I didn’t,” quietly. “At first I was too… too wrapped up in my own misery. Then I didn’t feel like I had the right. I left you- I figured you’d be trying to move on. Half a year, a year… After that I didn’t feel like I had the right to… to intrude.” He pauses, wets his lips, then says, “And then everything went to hell, and… I don’t know. I don’t know if I would have looked for you, after I figured things out in Hyperion. If I would have worked things out with myself enough to.”

His hand presses harder to his chest, holding himself together by sheer force of will, and his voice is a little raspier, a little more strained when he says, “It’s all excuses though. I should have, and I didn’t, and that’s all it comes down to.” 

Nevermind that he had another parasite digging into his brain, nevermind that he had set Hyperion City up for destruction and had to fix it- still has to fix it, somehow, even though he’s not there anymore. Nevermind that he thought he’d found something he could do, for once, without fucking everything up, and that he thought Peter would be better off with… whatever he chose to do, whoever he chose to be.

None of that matters.

“If… If you decide you do want to know… I’m on the sixth floor.” He gestures back towards the staircase sinking into the ground out in the distance. “And if you don’t… I’m sure this place is big enough that you won’t have to see me too much.”

Peter feels the words dry up in his throat. He shuts his eyes and he sees Juno’s face burned into the inside of his eyelids. The hurt in his face, in his voice, even in how he holds himself. It would be so easy to just ask him why, or to say that it doesn’t matter, that he wants him back...

But he just takes a deep breath, slow, and then he shakes his head. “I... If I come into possession of any information that would be pertinent, I will send it along to you. But I can’t... Juno, I can’t do it all over again.” As he opens his eyes, he only looks weary. “I gave you everything. My name, my past, my h...” He feels the word catch in his throat. 

“My heart.”

And then he feels like an idiot. How much of a fool must he look? To have fallen and trusted so, so quickly. Peter shakes his head again, as if trying to clear it. “Good day, detective,” he says, forcing his voice steady. “Thank you for the offer, but I must be going.”

Sento isn’t the best at reading people, but he’s sure at this point that this man is being deliberately obtuse. Couldn’t he see that they’re in the same boat?

He rubs the back of his neck, slightly uncomfortable. Sawa could probably get something out of him, but it’s just him.  “I think the situation is a bit more dire than you may realize,” Sento says, carefully, “Mars is uninhabited. No technology exists that could allow it to support life. From my perspective, anyway. That doesn’t seem to be true of yours.”

Peter stares at him in surprise, once again. Uninhabited? He quirks one perfect eyebrow. “From my perspective, no. Mars is thriving-- Well. Thriving as best it can. When Earth became less and less hospitable for human life, humans expanded out across the stars. I’ve never even been to Earth, I was born on a planet far away from it.”

Let it not be said that Teague Martin is not a man of the future. This place is confusing, confounding, at times impossible, but he has taken three days to get his bearings. So far, things have gone well. He has learned that the light-up display is his holophone, whatever that means, and he has fiddled around with it enough without breaking it to learn the basics of how it works. He has even downloaded a few ‘apps’. One of those apps is Kindling.

Apparently this Kindling is a dating service, meant for those avoidant of genuine human interaction, but as far as Teague is concerned it’s an easy way to get a handle on the people he’s been stuck with here. If he can find anyone else from Dunwall, even better, but he’d like to make a few alliances as soon as he can to make sure it doesn’t end up him against the world.

He’s swiping right on pretty much everyone. Gotta keep his options open.

Eventually there’s a ding! of someone else matching with him, or so the app tells him, and he’s a little bit confused tapping at the screen so he misses exactly who it is, but once he’s on the right screen he figures it’s only polite to say something.

[msg] Stuck here too, are you?

Peter likes to think that he’s not the kind to use dating services. The fact aside that he’s already a professional at lying about himself, it isn’t as if he’s got any interest in dating someone. But, well. Given a shocking encounter with Juno and the ensuing feelings... a man can have his messy rebounds, can’t he...?

He downloads the app for a bit of fun, thinking that it’ll at least make him feel better to look. An effortless smile with sharp teeth for the picture, typing in some throwaway name-- Callisto, that’s a fun one --and then he’s done. He occupies himself with it for a while, playing around with the application and swiping left or right.

And then, ding. A match. And a message. He looks at the man with interest, inspecting the picture and finding himself satisfied. And then he returns to the message.

Daud does not consider himself to be a man susceptible to flattery. That aside, he knows he looks like he was just dredged from the depths and rolled in sand. 

He thumbs the lapel of his coat anyways and leans in, lighting the cigarette and taking a deep drag. Awfully light fingers, Rex.

“I’m from all over.” He breathes out smoke, his nerves settling at last. “Ended up in Dunwall. You know of it? Whaling town, hardly gets any sunlight.”

He finds it hard to believe everyone here is a transplant.

“You don’t look like you’re from the Isles.”

“No, I’m not from any Isles,” Peter says smoothly. He gives a helpless shrug as he pockets the lighter again. “And I’m afraid I don’t know of Dunwall either. I’m a bit of a traveller myself, so I must say that it’s surprising to hear of places I haven’t been.”

His gaze flicks up and down Daud as he smooths out the deep pockets of his jacket, finding a bit of comfort in the bumps and ridges of the lighter and what he thinks is a bit of pencil in there.

Sento listens, shocked, as Duke rattles off the names of places that definitely couldn’t… Support life? Not now, anyway.

“Wait,” He says, carefully, struggling to phrase this question in a way that would get him an answer - old Martian calendars wouldn’t translate to Earth understanding of time, after all,  “Just to clarify. Have you… Been to Mars?”

Peter stares at Sento for a long moment, confusion in his own face. “Well... Yes. For a bit of business recently. Though... that all ended a bit messily, so I haven’t been back. It’s an interesting place. Why? Are you thinking of going sometime?” 

“You are,” Juno says stubbornly, mouth dry- “you are, and I know that because I know you better than is strictly comfortable, because I crawled inside your head, and even if you can pretend you don’t remember that I can’t. I know you, whether you like it or not. You’re not innocent, hell, I know you lost that a long time ago, but that doesn’t mean-“

He draws himself up short, then, chest starting to heave, nostrils flaring as he takes in the air required to keep him from losing control of everything entirely, and he swallows, then says, hoarser now, “Yeah. I left. I made a stupid fucking mistake that I can’t take back, no matter how often I dream that I’m still there and can make a different choice. I can’t because that’s not how the world works, not because I don’t want to, and not because I’m some heartless shithead who can, who can just not feel-“

He has to cut himself off again as his voice starts to waver, eye damp and face crumpling a little to push back the tears, and he half-turns away, not wanting this to be some… some pathetic waterworks show. He forces his face straight, blinks until he’s pretty sure he won’t cry, then looks sidelong at Peter again.

“I’m sorry,” he says, voice still hoarse but more steady at least. “You’re right. I’ve got no right. But it’s not that easy to just turn off.”

Peter shudders at the memory, how had he been so... so trusting, then? That hadn’t even been trusting, that had been pure idiocy. He had had no need to do something like that... He takes a deep breath. He can see the way that Juno’s face crumples, and it makes his heart ache.

God, it makes him want to cry too. He shuts his eyes. Takes a moment to steel himself. “You’re right. That isn’t how the world works. You make mistakes and you can’t do anything but keep going. But you can try to make them right.” He opens his eyes to look at Juno, dark eyes fixed on him.

“Did you even try to find me?” He asks, feeling miserable all over again as he does. “Or were you going to spend the rest of your life beating yourself up about your mistake and feeling sorry for yourself? Before you ran into me again.” He pauses and then he shakes his head, and his voice lowers.

It figures, doesn’t it, that the man who made Juno feel like he could fly, like there was reason for hope in the world after all, can so easily make him feel like he’s coming apart at the seams, all of his stuffing laid bare to the world? Juno’s remembering why he closes himself off. Maybe he realized Sarah was only human, but that didn’t make it hurt any less when her anger was pointed at him, did it?

“I thought,” he says, keeping his voice from shaking as much as he can, tone tense and irritated, “that you wouldn’t want to talk about it. If I was wrong, then we can talk. But don’t stand there taking potshots at me if you’re gonna act like nothing ever happened.” He takes another breath, then shifts his hand to press against his chest, trying to keep the motion subtle and hidden with his other sleeve, trying to stave off the inevitable for a bit longer.

“I’m sure I deserve it. I know I do,” and his voice is definitely shaking now, so he takes a second to steady it, then just falls silent, totally unsure of where to take the thought from there. Finally, he just says, “You’re better than that.”

“Why, Juno, would you think that I’m better than that?” Peter says, sounding a little strained. “I hardly pretend that I’m a good person, I’m not... some kind of angel. Whatever version of me that you have in your mind that’s some poor innocent jilted lover isn’t real.” Ah, and there it is, Juno’s touching nerves like he’s playing Martian Operation.

“Of course I don’t want to talk about it, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t happen,” he says, and he sees the irony in that placed alongside his own actions. Maybe he’s just being cagey because he doesn’t want to hear why Juno left, even if he desperately wants to know it.

Juno flinches- he can’t help it, it does hurt him, and after the beating his heart and his shield for it have taken recently, he just doesn’t have it in him to bite back at Peter immediately. Not when he definitely earned those kinds of comments. Still, he feels his shoulders drawing up, chest tightening in a way that he’s not totally sure isn’t his lungs responding to the sudden sense of stress, but may just be his heart taking another battering.

He shouldn’t expect any different… but he’d hoped, and it shows in the way his relatively open expression drains away, going all dull and closed off.

He stares at the stall he was looking at for a moment, frozen, then exhales slowly and says, “Yeah. I guess that’s all true.” He wants to run again. He doesn’t want to be here exchanging verbal volleys with Peter because he can’t apologize. But he can’t. It can’t be… it can’t be something he does just to get out of feeling bad, out of Peter’s anger at him. He doesn’t want Peter to think that, either.

He swallows down the flutter in his chest sternly, breathing carefully until it goes away, then says, “I’ve never been a hero, Glass, and I’d never call myself one. Have some damn dignity and say what you mean, if you want to say something,” and his voice is tight with the confrontation he’s trying to keep himself from starting, but he doesn’t turn to leave, not this time- no, this time, it won’t be him to walk away.

“Me, have some dignity? Oh, I have plenty of dignity, Detective,” Peter snaps, and he startles himself with it. Oh, he hates the way that Juno Steel gets under his skin. The way that he can get at Peter’s emotions like nothing else... Peter shuts his eyes closed and he takes a deep breath. “Don’t look at me like that. Did you really think that I wouldn’t be... that I’d just...” He fights to school his face.

No, he can’t do this, he can’t let Juno Steel pick him apart without even meaning to again. It isn’t like the detective ever means to, he just... has a way. Peter opens his eyes again to look at Juno, and he tries to keep cold, tries not to feel guilty and not to look like he missed Juno miserably.

“No, you’re right,” Juno says, and then he wrinkles his nose and adds, “Although I might have let him do it even if I didn’t trust him. Damn thing would have probably blown up or-”

And then Peter interrupts, clearly having been thinking, and Juno’s stunned silent for a minute before he says, “I- well-” flustered and defensive, suddenly, “I didn’t help her commit any crimes! Technically! I just kept watch for anything suspicious while she was, uh, doing a handoff of… already purchased goods…” He trails off then, fully aware of how bad that sounds, and he’s flushing, unable to look at Peter for a moment.

Then he says, “I mean. I did shoot someone. Two someones. Or maybe several, indirectly. So I guess I’m a criminal after all,” with a half-guilty, half-wry twist of his lips. “Anyways. She had sold a Curemother to this guy, turned out this guy owned her ex-girlfriend’s radiation-poisoning-treatment debt, we had to go stop her ex from killing anyone and get her back and, you know. We did it, she said she wouldn’t mind offering me another job, I went and got my eye removed, I woke up here.”

The last of this he finishes in a bit of a rush, and then he shakes his head and says, “Damn. But I don’t really believe the big guy did it. Not right after all that shit with Vespa and Buddy. It just doesn’t make sense…”

“People are often capable of things you wouldn’t believe them capable of,” Peter says. “Especially people you don’t know well.” And then he immediately feels like an ass. He also kind of hopes that it makes Juno feel bad, at the same time. Well. He’s not perfect.

He looks down at his nails, even though they’re sensibly trimmed short and have no paint on them right now. He pretends to inspect them anyways. “...Well, Juno Steel,” he says with a faint smile, “you don’t need to look so guilty about it. In the grand scheme of things I promise that you’re still a big hero. Heaven forbid you find yourself embroiled in the criminal underground, after all.”

Juno frowns uneasily as he watches Peter pace, trying to act like this is just… just him talking to anyone else he’s ever known? No, maybe not, not like he’s ever civil to people he knows. Or people he doesn’t. Maybe he should just stop worrying about it so much? He crosses his own arms, swallowing a few times and then saying, “Jacket? Hell if I know.”

He pauses for a minute, then says, slower, “He picked me up when I was, uh. Down on my luck. Brought me to the dame he worked with, Buddy Aurinko. I did a job for her- a couple, actually- as payment to get my eye taken out. The cybernetic one I had in, not… my real eye. Obviously. It was just me and him at the lab.” He turns that thought over in his head, Jacket betraying him, and it’s not like it induces any panic in him, or real distress, but he’s not fond of the idea.

“I don’t think he would. I think Buddy would have liked me to work for her more, if she could manage it, and he’s pretty dedicated to her. But I guess anything is possible. Hell, I’ve only known him for a couple of weeks at best, aside from the time he was stalking me, so maybe. I guess.”

He snorts too, then, and adds, “No, please, keep brainstorming. I’m not coming up with anything on my own yet. I appreciate the perspective. I probably wouldn’t have thought to question it. Stupid to trust a guy I barely know.”

Peter lets his gaze slide away from Juno entirely, feeling a little stung by Juno’s words. Ah, this is going to be difficult. “Well,” he says heavily. “Trust is vital to have when performing such delicate procedures. I’m sure you would have had a much harder time performing the operation if you had not trusted him at the time.”

He glances over at Juno then, feeling his chest ache to look at him. It would be so easy to just forgive him and ask if they could try again, wouldn’t it? ...But no. Why would Juno want him back if he left him once before?

Wait... What was that name Juno had just said?

Rex smiles at him with teeth not quite as sharp as Lizzy’s. He seems distracted.

“Thanks,” Daud says. “I do need a light, as a matter of fact.” Even if he did have matches, they probably wouldn’t be usable. His undershirt and trousers are still damp from following the Outsider into the surf.

There’s an almost feline grace in the way Rex moves. He doesn’t look as out of place as Daud feels, with the smooth and perfect machinery that moves down the track without sparking or belching greasy smoke into the air. 

He accepts the cigarette, taking care not to lose his grip on it and his last shred of dignity in front of this stranger. “I’m Daud. Are you from around here?”

Peter smiles, and he can feel himself relax as he goes through his pockets again with a small hum to himself of thought. “No, I’m not,” he says with a laugh. “Though I’m going to guess that you aren’t either, given the case with most everyone else I’ve met so far... Aha!”

He pulls a lighter from his jacket pocket with a pleased expression. “There we are,” he says brightly, and with a flourish he clicks the lighter open, offering the flame to Dad and cupping his hand around it to shield it from any wind.

“So, Daud. Where are you from?” His gaze slides down the man’s figure, taking in his attire with some interest. Perhaps this is the new fashion somewhere he has never been.

Sento pauses in setting out the food. Why was his first instinct to fight? He clears his throat, uncomfortable. “I’m… Used to fighting, at this point. I think your idea sounds better, really.”

He rolls Duke’s question around. Of course, this could be Evolt’s doing. Sento was wrong, and Evolt turned their plan back at them, and made this place, to… Torment them? That seems a bit too altruistic for him. He replies, “None that hold any water.” He looks out the window, at the clear water, full of life. He frowns. “All I know is, this place… It’s too technologically advanced to be Earth.”

Peter blinks. “Well,” he says mildly, “yes, I’m sure. Earth is hardly the crown jewel of its system.” Is Sento saying that he’s from Earth? Peter’s lips twitch a little, expression bemused for a moment as he looks at Sento, then follows his gaze to look out the window.

Juno wants to run, too- wants to turn on his heel and go back to that room and let whatever happens happen, anything to escape this feeling- it was getting so… so easy to want to live, when he didn’t have to face what he’d done, but here, like this… 

But he already ran away once, didn’t he? That’s the problem here. Peter, Rex, whatever he wants to be called… he deserves better. Juno deserves better.

So he forces himself to straighten and looks around, then says, “Can’t be a simulation. No such thing as a simulation that can mimic the ways a body feels when it’s hurt so perfectly. The coughing- there would be a pattern to it. Or I wouldn’t be able to tune out the aching. Things like that- there would be little things to give it away. I don’t think we’re that lucky.” 

He pauses, then, and clears his throat, then coughs again, spitting up into the handkerchief and grimacing before he says, voice rougher, “Uh. Theories. Not that account for… I mean, I could have been drugged when I was drinking the tea- hell, I know I was drugged. But not that drugged. So… I don’t know. I’m going to have to do a lot more snooping to figure out anything.”

Peter sighs and he rubs the back of his neck, turning the words over in his head. “Alright, then. Not a simulation. And we can at least infer that our captors have a great number of resources at their disposal.” He starts to pace idly, staring at the ground and crossing his arms. “I could have been drugged as well, I suppose. It is also possible... that... your companion colluded with our captors.”

He looks at Juno, and he arches one perfect eyebrow. “What were your companion’s motives? His allegiances? Were there any alternative motives you knew of?” He has to make himself stop the flow of questions then. “Not to... question his integrity, I suppose,” he adds. “But it’s a possible lead.” He comes to another halt, and he’s suddenly feeling very awkward.

@pasderose

Daud stands at the platform, waiting for the next train to the city. His hands won’t stop shaking. Cursing, he fumbles through his coat for a cigarette, almost dropping his useless rune and the strange communication device in the process. 

He did not in a million years expect to run into the Outsider on that beach. The last time they spoke was after Delilah, when he called Daud “the savior of the empire.” 

Interested now, you bastard?

He needs to leave, pull himself back together. Figure out what to do next.

Someone walks up beside him to wait. The shock of dark hair makes Daud start, but he recovers quickly. This person is taller, wearing glasses over pretty brown eyes.

Daud leans in. “Got a smoke?” he asks.

The trains here remind him of Jupiter. Granted, Jupiter’s trains aren’t quite like this, but it’s the kind of sleek, efficient lines and speed he knows from there. Peter mulls over trains to take his mind off his... bigger predicaments. Detective Steel’s unexpected arrival being one weighing heavy on his mind. What is he going to do? What can he do? What kind of approach does he take, does he withdraw?

Peter comes to a halt next to another waiting, staring at the track distractedly. And then he’s abruptly pulled out of his thoughts by the man next to him speaking. He looks over, letting himself look a little startled, brows raised. “Oh, pardon me. You surprised me.” He puts on an easy smile fast enough. “Let me see, I might.” He hardly smokes anymore, but it’s never a bad idea to have a pack on him. For situations just like this one, in fact! Almost. More often for situations where he wants to cozy up to someone, or start a conversation easily.

Sento isn’t quite sure he remembers seeing the name Duke on the nameplates in the hallway, but there are any number of reasons for that discrepancy. He lets Duke keep his secrets.

“Sento.” He says instead, “If you’re anything like me, there’s no reason for us to be here. It’s important to present a united front, if we have to fight.” He shakes his head. “And you can’t fight on an empty stomach, obviously. There are plates in that cabinet. Could you grab a few?”

Peter laughs as he straightens and moves around the counter. “You think we’ll have to fight?” He asks. “I was hoping that this would be an easily cleared up misunderstanding, really. But that’s not likely I suppose.” As he opens the cabinet, retrieves the plates and sets them on the counter by Sento, he considers that. “I don’t have any idea why I’m here either, though. I have my theories but... who’s to say?”