More news from nowhere [OPEN]

[punyparker.livejournal.com]

Those who have seen Peter Parker around lately will know that he didn't take the Daligig's revelation at all well. Hours spent in the sensoriums fawning over the New York panoramic, even more time spent in the media library trawling through records from Skip James to the Smiths, all of which acutely miserable.

But that was then and this is now. Now-- now he walks quietly through Stacy's corridors, a camera slung over his shoulder and a tatty shoebox in his hands. He scans the walls until he finds one that seems to satisfy whatever purpose he has in store for it and drops to one knee so that he can get at the contents of the box.

One by one he takes out the pictures of friends and family both past and... as present as can be. Being the photography nut that he is most were taken by Peter himself, but there are some from other sources. There is Peter as a kid at Coney Island with his aunt and uncle and photobooth snaps of him and Gwen posing ridiculously. Graduation photos with a begrudging Flash Thompson and one of Harry and Norman back when things were good. A photo of his parents that he credits to May. Shots of the Bugle staff. One of Felicia which he'd had to have been very sly to take and of course, the inimitable Mary Jane Watson.

He takes each of these, looks them over fondly, and tacks them up on the wall. It was a start, the beginnings of what he hoped the rest of the crew would add to. There they were, all the people he'd known and loved over the years. All the people that gave him the strength he needed to face each day were laid out in front of him and in that moment he knew that there was no way in hell that any one of them was gone.

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[forced-unlife.livejournal.com]

Khel nodded at Parker's invitation. Unstrapping the buckles holding it shut, the undead warrior removed his left gauntlet, revealing a skeletal hand, not quite as bleached as his skull but still very dry. Hanging loosely off of it was the one part of his past he refused to surrender. It was a reminder of the treachery that had come to pass, but he still treasured it.

It was a plain and simple golden band, nothing more. It had a simple enchantment on it to keep it pristine, but it was otherwise very mundane and unadorned. "My wedding band," he said, after staring at it for what felt like hours, but was almost surely seconds.

[punyparker.livejournal.com]

"Oh, I'd never expect you to part with that," he replies, holding up his hands in a 'no way' kind of gesture.

He pauses for a moment, trying to gauge Khel's reaction to the ring, "But maybe you could tell me about her?"

[forced-unlife.livejournal.com]

"It is not the most pleasant of stories, but it is only fair I tell thee," Khel replied. His telling of his story (http://forced-unlife.livejournal.com/profile) had grown easier with each retelling, surprisingly, and he found that the grief he normally felt upon completing the tale was not so strong.

"This was many thousands of years ago."

[punyparker.livejournal.com]

He just... stares.

"Wow."

[forced-unlife.livejournal.com]

"I am sorry. I meant not to cast my troubles onto thee."

[punyparker.livejournal.com]

"No, no," he urges, "It's just an incredible story. I'm a little honoured you shared it with me; it can't be easy to recount something like that for a virtual stranger."

[forced-unlife.livejournal.com]

"Everyone I knew is dead, friend. Everyone here is a stranger to me. What would it serve to not tell my story to the only ones who would know me?"

[punyparker.livejournal.com]

"I'm sorry." he says flatly.

It certainly put his isolation into perspective. At least he had Carol. At least he had people that recognised him even if he failed to recognise them. People who understood him unconditionally.

"This is still so alien to me. I guess that's why I wanted to do this," he gestures to the wall, "So that I could get to see pieces of other peoples lives."

[forced-unlife.livejournal.com]

"Peace. There is no need for apologies." Khel found that, yet again, his lack of current social skills seemed to have been causing troubles as far as conversation went.

"Many of the pieces of my life are lost, but I find I can see them again in the room known as the Sensorium. I try to avoid such a crutch, however, for dwelling too much on the past can blind one to the present."