#notaparasite

@notaparasite plotted starter

Given how her first encounter with Chase’s dad had gone, Charlie had been hesitant at the idea of meeting his brother. But Chase clearly cared about him, and she’d do anything to make him happy, so after some reassurances that Eddie was a wildly different person from Victor, she’d agreed. Now, with the initial introductions finished, Chase had wandered off and left her alone with the man, feeling slightly awkward.

“I moved here right before the school year started, so I could attend Atlas,” she explained. “Chase was the only person who was actually nice to me, and he kept trying to tell me he really wasn’t nice.” She smiled at the memory, his adamant insistence that he wasn’t that nice, how his genuine concern had cracked the walls she always used to keep other people at bay.

The birthday party is going well, despite the momentary panic that had first set in when the guests didn't know which roads to take. Haven's was located far out of the big city, on sprawling farm fields of corn and woodlands. Luckily, they had horses, and Kieran with Anderson rode out to greet the guests in their cars and led the way into small roads through the trees.

The children are shy and excited to see so many people atttending the birthday party. Of course, most of them are volunteers, funders and a select few of photographers. It was a charity run at the same time, anyway. Kieran had little Tomas in his arms as he greeted and made small talk with the guests, until someone walks up with a flower in hand.

She doesn't frequent bars as much as she used to back home—doesn't have the spare cash to waste on bottles, and even though she doesn't look blatantly homeless she still gets side-eyes when she's in some establishments. But sometimes it's worth it, sometimes someone buys her a drink or something to eat, and she can forget how lonely she is here.

But tonight didn't seem to be turning out that way. There's not many people here, which makes it all the easier to spot the man hunched over himself in a corner booth. Even without looking closely, she can tell he's crying—can hear shaking breaths under the music and conversation, smell the sharp-salt of tears through the smoky air. Enhanced senses finally useful for something.

Comfort isn't her strong suit, she's more of a tough love kind of person, but she still slides into the seat across from him, picking the label on her bottle quietly.

@notaparasite continued from here

Sighing, Matt kept shifting his gaze between Eddie and the fridge. He knew his roommate had a point, even he thought it was a little gross, but there weren’t a whole lot of other options.

“I’m aware. Look, how about this; I’ll use what I can to brew as many potions as possible, and we can throw the rest in a cooler. But you gotta be okay with me stocking potions in the cabinets that could either explode, knock someone out, or potentially turn you into something if you mess with them.”

That was the best he could do. Throwing out the ingredients wasn’t an option, Matt needed a lot of them. But if he used some of them for brewing, at least they wouldn’t smell anymore.

He had set his cup down for a second so he could text his dad some lie about going to a book store. Alan hadn’t expected the drink to burn his mouth when he picked it up again. 

The contents spilled down his hand, over his jeans, and against his chest as he doubled over, gasping. Whatever had been in the cup was now searing its way down his throat. He leaned back against the wall, struggling for breath. 

Someone came over and grabbed him, pressing a hand over his mouth. Alan bit down and received a slap for his troubles. 

Bucky didn't really know Eddie Brock. He knew of him and some of it sounded like rumor and supposition. Like maybe he wasn't really a host to an alien entity? Actually, that made more sense than the he's-just-crazy explanation. Bucky had seen a lot of weird shit since the war. Still, their circles didn't really mix or cross much. So when he found himself staring at a wedding invitation two inches from his face that his name was nowhere on, well, he was reasonably confused.

He didn't know Anne or Dan so he wasn't supposed to be invited. And he didn't really talk to Eddie Brock, whose name was on the invitation, so he wasn't really sure why he was involved. This should have been a thing that he wasn't apart of, wasn't even aware of. He leaned back a little further from the invite so his eyes could focus, read it again with a frown, and finally moved his eyes past the paper to the one holding it. Huh. Eddie Brock. In the flesh. That would make sense. Maybe he could get an explanation now?