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Aug. 22nd, 2032 10:35 pm
The last couple of years had, frankly, been insane. Starting with the summer that he missed the entire damn Starcourt Mall burning down because he was doing a week of essentially van-camping to try and get his head on straight so he could actually fucking graduate this time.
It hadn't helped, at least not in the way he'd expected it to, because two days in a meteorite had smashed down not far from where he'd set up camp, and even though it was well past midnight he figured he should at least check it out, after all, maybe it was space ship parts he could sell back to Nasa or something.
It hadn't been. But it had been how he'd met Venom, though 'met' was putting it lightly. The speed-run from 'aliens are real' to 'I'm going to protect this one' had been rough, in fact, it had been an absolutely fucking terrifying couple of hours, but in the end he and the symbiote, Venom, had come to an agreement. It was an agreement that had held through finding out that it wasn't just aliens that were real, but apparently also terrifying entities from another reality, and somehow even that wasn't the most insane thing to have happened.
No, the most insane thing was that not only had he graduated, definitely with Venom's help, but also -and perhaps even more insane- was that Steve fucking Harrington had suggested moving to New York, like together, like for college, and while his initial instinct had been to laugh, what he'd found himself saying was 'let's make it happen'.
And sure, they'd had to find off-campus housing since they'd ended up getting into two different schools, but that was beside the point. They'd both gotten in, somehow, and they'd managed the move without killing each other -or anyone else- and had more or less managed to make the crappy apartment into something worth living in.
Friday evening had Eddie shouldering the door closed behind him, announcing: "Orientation week has been survived, what about you?" Before even verifying whether or not Steve was home.
It hadn't helped, at least not in the way he'd expected it to, because two days in a meteorite had smashed down not far from where he'd set up camp, and even though it was well past midnight he figured he should at least check it out, after all, maybe it was space ship parts he could sell back to Nasa or something.
It hadn't been. But it had been how he'd met Venom, though 'met' was putting it lightly. The speed-run from 'aliens are real' to 'I'm going to protect this one' had been rough, in fact, it had been an absolutely fucking terrifying couple of hours, but in the end he and the symbiote, Venom, had come to an agreement. It was an agreement that had held through finding out that it wasn't just aliens that were real, but apparently also terrifying entities from another reality, and somehow even that wasn't the most insane thing to have happened.
No, the most insane thing was that not only had he graduated, definitely with Venom's help, but also -and perhaps even more insane- was that Steve fucking Harrington had suggested moving to New York, like together, like for college, and while his initial instinct had been to laugh, what he'd found himself saying was 'let's make it happen'.
And sure, they'd had to find off-campus housing since they'd ended up getting into two different schools, but that was beside the point. They'd both gotten in, somehow, and they'd managed the move without killing each other -or anyone else- and had more or less managed to make the crappy apartment into something worth living in.
Friday evening had Eddie shouldering the door closed behind him, announcing: "Orientation week has been survived, what about you?" Before even verifying whether or not Steve was home.
Summer of Starcourt - @ScoopsTroops
Mar. 10th, 2023 05:57 pmWayne had been against the idea, not in general, he'd made that clear, he actually thought a summer job might be good for Eddie, and not because he didn't think Eddie could actually do it -the fact that he held down a regular gig with the band was proof that he had the follow through- it was just that he'd known Eddie would hate this particular job.
As usual, Wayne had been right. But Eddie wasn't going to admit defeat, not yet. It was only another few weeks, he could persevere, because aside from a reasonable staff discount -which meant he could pick up a few new releases he'd already been eying- working at the mall had an unexpected perk.
Which was Steve Harrington in a ridiculous Donald Duck sailor suit over at the Scoops Ahoy. Now, Eddie had thought his stupid crush on Steve goddamn Harrington had died when Steve had graduated and Eddie no longer had to see him multiple times a day, but apparently he'd been wrong.
Though he'd had enough time to figure that if his demons were going to resurface, he might as well roll with it, because at least now the worst he'd get was a verbal jab from Robin, but she never really meant them -at least not in his case, not that he could tell- and not a bloody nose.
That afternoon, shift over, he made his way up the concourse, stepping aside to let the gaggle of girls exiting the ice cream shop pass before eeling into the place himself, "Chocolate chip cookie dough my good man, make it a double, it has been a day, summer sale might actually kill me."
As usual, Wayne had been right. But Eddie wasn't going to admit defeat, not yet. It was only another few weeks, he could persevere, because aside from a reasonable staff discount -which meant he could pick up a few new releases he'd already been eying- working at the mall had an unexpected perk.
Which was Steve Harrington in a ridiculous Donald Duck sailor suit over at the Scoops Ahoy. Now, Eddie had thought his stupid crush on Steve goddamn Harrington had died when Steve had graduated and Eddie no longer had to see him multiple times a day, but apparently he'd been wrong.
Though he'd had enough time to figure that if his demons were going to resurface, he might as well roll with it, because at least now the worst he'd get was a verbal jab from Robin, but she never really meant them -at least not in his case, not that he could tell- and not a bloody nose.
That afternoon, shift over, he made his way up the concourse, stepping aside to let the gaggle of girls exiting the ice cream shop pass before eeling into the place himself, "Chocolate chip cookie dough my good man, make it a double, it has been a day, summer sale might actually kill me."
Can't go home again - for @GarethTheGreat
Feb. 13th, 2023 02:40 pmEddie wasn't sure how long it had been, mostly because he couldn't remember the last time that time had actually worked correctly. Though it seemed to be doing so now that he'd somehow gotten out of that red-lit hell-scape. He knew he'd been more sure of things there, he'd had purpose there, though he couldn't fully remember what that had been, either, only that it had been.
He knew that was relieved not to have that now, even if it meant that he didn't know what he was doing here, either.
Food was harder to come by, he couldn't just will creatures closer the way he could in that near-colorless other-world, but he'd managed, birds at first, and then rabbits, and when he finally managed to catch a deer and even though he'd gotten kicked for it, it was like someone had turned the lights on and he could think again.
It was enough to make him realize that this was definitely Hawkins and not the Upside Down, but he still didn't know how he'd gotten back, or why Hawkins itself still felt wrong somehow. He knew he couldn't go home even though he couldn't pin down just why, but that didn't leave a lot of options as far as where he'd actually be welcome. It pretty much left just one option, really, but it was a good one, as far as these things went.
Which was pretty much the only reason -and not even that good of a reason since he didn't actually know what time it was except 'dark'- that he was tapping out a quiet, though urgent, staccato against Gareth's window with his nails, briefly catching his reflection in the glass as he did so and realizing that he looked like hell. He was too pale, almost translucent, and his eyes were shadowed and dark and even though he couldn't see it, he knew they'd reflect like a cat's if light hit them at the right angle.
He knew that was relieved not to have that now, even if it meant that he didn't know what he was doing here, either.
Food was harder to come by, he couldn't just will creatures closer the way he could in that near-colorless other-world, but he'd managed, birds at first, and then rabbits, and when he finally managed to catch a deer and even though he'd gotten kicked for it, it was like someone had turned the lights on and he could think again.
It was enough to make him realize that this was definitely Hawkins and not the Upside Down, but he still didn't know how he'd gotten back, or why Hawkins itself still felt wrong somehow. He knew he couldn't go home even though he couldn't pin down just why, but that didn't leave a lot of options as far as where he'd actually be welcome. It pretty much left just one option, really, but it was a good one, as far as these things went.
Which was pretty much the only reason -and not even that good of a reason since he didn't actually know what time it was except 'dark'- that he was tapping out a quiet, though urgent, staccato against Gareth's window with his nails, briefly catching his reflection in the glass as he did so and realizing that he looked like hell. He was too pale, almost translucent, and his eyes were shadowed and dark and even though he couldn't see it, he knew they'd reflect like a cat's if light hit them at the right angle.
Eddie doesn't live here anymore
Feb. 1st, 2023 03:40 pm[some minor inspiration]
Eddie was pretty sure he'd died. Between the demo-bats and the haz-mat suits after, he didn't think there was any way he could actually still be alive.
But, apparently, he was.
The problem was that no one could know it, not even Wayne, something that had been explained to him on no uncertain terms. He'd been told that everyone would get an explanation, which he found both vague and unconvincing, but he also knew that there was a difference between disappearing and completely vanishing without a trace, and he wanted to stay on the right side of that equation.
He'd also been a little surprised that they'd given him a choice of where to go, within reason, and he'd decided on Thibodaux, Louisiana maybe just a little too quickly, but no one said anything against it, and instead of Eddie Munson, casualty of an extradimensional otherworld, he became Andrew Ferris, high school drop-out and generally law-abiding citizen.
It was finding a guitar in a junk shop window that had led to him getting a job at that self-same junk shop, that was also a repair shop and even a garage around the back -and if the vague yet menacing government agency that had dropped him here had known about that or not wasn't something he liked to think about too hard- run by a five-foot-nothing black woman known only as Auntie, who called him 'kiddo' in the same tone of voice that Wayne always had, and could have been anywhere between forty and eighty and sometimes acted like a teenager herself.
Auntie had also been the first person to tell him that running away wasn't the same as running from, and while he was probably doing that second one, she didn't think he had it in him to do the first. He hadn't had the heart to correct her, wasn't really sure he wanted to, because it was nice to have someone who believed in him, even if she didn't actually know him.
Mostly he liked the place because it was close enough that he could drive up to New Orleans on the weekends, find a nice corner or courtyard to busk in for a few hours, or just wander for a while.
Eddie was pretty sure he'd died. Between the demo-bats and the haz-mat suits after, he didn't think there was any way he could actually still be alive.
But, apparently, he was.
The problem was that no one could know it, not even Wayne, something that had been explained to him on no uncertain terms. He'd been told that everyone would get an explanation, which he found both vague and unconvincing, but he also knew that there was a difference between disappearing and completely vanishing without a trace, and he wanted to stay on the right side of that equation.
He'd also been a little surprised that they'd given him a choice of where to go, within reason, and he'd decided on Thibodaux, Louisiana maybe just a little too quickly, but no one said anything against it, and instead of Eddie Munson, casualty of an extradimensional otherworld, he became Andrew Ferris, high school drop-out and generally law-abiding citizen.
It was finding a guitar in a junk shop window that had led to him getting a job at that self-same junk shop, that was also a repair shop and even a garage around the back -and if the vague yet menacing government agency that had dropped him here had known about that or not wasn't something he liked to think about too hard- run by a five-foot-nothing black woman known only as Auntie, who called him 'kiddo' in the same tone of voice that Wayne always had, and could have been anywhere between forty and eighty and sometimes acted like a teenager herself.
Auntie had also been the first person to tell him that running away wasn't the same as running from, and while he was probably doing that second one, she didn't think he had it in him to do the first. He hadn't had the heart to correct her, wasn't really sure he wanted to, because it was nice to have someone who believed in him, even if she didn't actually know him.
Mostly he liked the place because it was close enough that he could drive up to New Orleans on the weekends, find a nice corner or courtyard to busk in for a few hours, or just wander for a while.
Edward the Banished. No one really knew where he'd been banished from, but everyone knew enough not to ask and there were always just enough rumors circulating about him and his crew to keep things interesting.
His crew was small, but loyal, and both of those things were the reason they were all still alive and more or less in one piece. Another part of that reason was that they never went after anything that both Eddie and his first mate were sure they could actually overpower.
Which was what made the merchant vessel unusual, definitely larger than they usually ran down, but clearly ill-prepared, especially in the dense fog. It wasn't a derelict, though it was a minimal crew, and between fog and moonlight there was no way to tell just how damaged it actually was, so it was possible that someone else had already ransacked it and then left it adrift with the remaining crew.
Of course, it was also possible that there had been an illness that had killed much of the crew off, and in that case they shouldn't risk going aboard. But in the end they did so anyway, and had ended up with a much better prize than any of them had expected. One that had been left tied to the mast of the Dragonslayer overnight. Maybe a little over-enthusiastically tied, something that Eddie shot a look to the youngest of the crew for, receiving only a shrug in return, as if to say that she'd done her job and if he didn't like it, that was on him.
Eddie stepped forward, knowing that with the rising sun more or less behind him he wouldn't be much more than a blurry silhouette to the prisoner, but that was part of the intimidation tactic, as was the fact of his crew being there to watch what happened next. He drew his sword, swinging it in a lazy figure-eight arc before leveling it at the prisoner's throat, "Simple yes or no question, and if I don't like the answer you're going overboard with the rest of your crew." Truthfully they hadn't actually thrown anyone overboard, though one had fallen in the skirmish, they'd just left the other ship adrift in the fog, having taken the cargo and their prisoner.
"Are you Steven Harrington, sole heir to the Harrington sugar plantations?" His tone was level and conversational, as steady as the tip of his blade pointed at Steven's throat, clearly sure of the answer already but curious to see if the prisoner was going to confirm it or try to deny it.
His crew was small, but loyal, and both of those things were the reason they were all still alive and more or less in one piece. Another part of that reason was that they never went after anything that both Eddie and his first mate were sure they could actually overpower.
Which was what made the merchant vessel unusual, definitely larger than they usually ran down, but clearly ill-prepared, especially in the dense fog. It wasn't a derelict, though it was a minimal crew, and between fog and moonlight there was no way to tell just how damaged it actually was, so it was possible that someone else had already ransacked it and then left it adrift with the remaining crew.
Of course, it was also possible that there had been an illness that had killed much of the crew off, and in that case they shouldn't risk going aboard. But in the end they did so anyway, and had ended up with a much better prize than any of them had expected. One that had been left tied to the mast of the Dragonslayer overnight. Maybe a little over-enthusiastically tied, something that Eddie shot a look to the youngest of the crew for, receiving only a shrug in return, as if to say that she'd done her job and if he didn't like it, that was on him.
Eddie stepped forward, knowing that with the rising sun more or less behind him he wouldn't be much more than a blurry silhouette to the prisoner, but that was part of the intimidation tactic, as was the fact of his crew being there to watch what happened next. He drew his sword, swinging it in a lazy figure-eight arc before leveling it at the prisoner's throat, "Simple yes or no question, and if I don't like the answer you're going overboard with the rest of your crew." Truthfully they hadn't actually thrown anyone overboard, though one had fallen in the skirmish, they'd just left the other ship adrift in the fog, having taken the cargo and their prisoner.
"Are you Steven Harrington, sole heir to the Harrington sugar plantations?" His tone was level and conversational, as steady as the tip of his blade pointed at Steven's throat, clearly sure of the answer already but curious to see if the prisoner was going to confirm it or try to deny it.
Trained up right - for @Hairsprayed
Jan. 19th, 2023 10:32 pmHow Eddie had wound up working at Phasma's club was ...well it was a string of coincidences and a handful of instances of being in the right place at the right time or just flat out introducing himself to the right person.
Like most of the rest of the staff he'd started in reception and wardrobe but had quickly been folded into a mentorship because he was a quick study for the technical parts and thought he knew what he wanted to do. The problem -if it could be called that- was that a few months in he realized that maybe he'd been wrong about which side of the picture he wanted to be on. The fact that he didn't feel at all nervous bringing this up to Phasma herself was testament to just how good of a mentor and boss she was.
She had ruffled his hair in the way that made him lean into her hand, as she explained that she didn't really have time to properly train a new sub, "But it's not like I'm going to just throw you to the wolves, I know someone, and if I'm not mistaken he's got the time for this kind of thing." And she knew he had the skill for it, he'd been one of the last few she'd fully trained herself, "I'll arrange a meeting, that way if either of you has any misgivings, you'll both be on neutral ground." Not that she was entirely worried about that either, "And you're lucky I like you because if things don't work out, I'll figure out a way to train you properly myself, though it means you'd have to be alright sharing my attentions with Estelle."
That had caused Eddie to grin, because Estelle was one of the reasons he'd come to the realization that as much as he liked things like setting up riggings and rope-work, and even things like actual presentation and stage-direction, that maybe he wasn't actually cut out to be a dom, "I think I'd be okay with that."
True to her word, Phasma had arranged the meeting the following week, on a Monday afternoon a few hours before the club actually opened for the night, and she'd told him he didn't have to be in uniform, especially since Mondays were the nights he helped Security with monitoring and wasn't actually on the floor. But even still he'd made an effort, which was to say, black jeans without holes in the knees and a dark long-sleeved Henley with thumb holes in the cuffs -as if that might do something to disguise just how much he fidgeted with his hands when he was talking- and while he'd left his hair loose, he'd made sure it was mostly going in one direction instead of just flouncing around willy-nilly as it was prone to doing otherwise.
He gave a quick little rapid-fire rabbit-kick of a knock to the meeting room door as a courtesy before letting himself in. He was still a few minutes early, but didn't know if the Steve that Phasma had mentioned was the type of guy to be a few minutes early too, or right on time.
Like most of the rest of the staff he'd started in reception and wardrobe but had quickly been folded into a mentorship because he was a quick study for the technical parts and thought he knew what he wanted to do. The problem -if it could be called that- was that a few months in he realized that maybe he'd been wrong about which side of the picture he wanted to be on. The fact that he didn't feel at all nervous bringing this up to Phasma herself was testament to just how good of a mentor and boss she was.
She had ruffled his hair in the way that made him lean into her hand, as she explained that she didn't really have time to properly train a new sub, "But it's not like I'm going to just throw you to the wolves, I know someone, and if I'm not mistaken he's got the time for this kind of thing." And she knew he had the skill for it, he'd been one of the last few she'd fully trained herself, "I'll arrange a meeting, that way if either of you has any misgivings, you'll both be on neutral ground." Not that she was entirely worried about that either, "And you're lucky I like you because if things don't work out, I'll figure out a way to train you properly myself, though it means you'd have to be alright sharing my attentions with Estelle."
That had caused Eddie to grin, because Estelle was one of the reasons he'd come to the realization that as much as he liked things like setting up riggings and rope-work, and even things like actual presentation and stage-direction, that maybe he wasn't actually cut out to be a dom, "I think I'd be okay with that."
True to her word, Phasma had arranged the meeting the following week, on a Monday afternoon a few hours before the club actually opened for the night, and she'd told him he didn't have to be in uniform, especially since Mondays were the nights he helped Security with monitoring and wasn't actually on the floor. But even still he'd made an effort, which was to say, black jeans without holes in the knees and a dark long-sleeved Henley with thumb holes in the cuffs -as if that might do something to disguise just how much he fidgeted with his hands when he was talking- and while he'd left his hair loose, he'd made sure it was mostly going in one direction instead of just flouncing around willy-nilly as it was prone to doing otherwise.
He gave a quick little rapid-fire rabbit-kick of a knock to the meeting room door as a courtesy before letting himself in. He was still a few minutes early, but didn't know if the Steve that Phasma had mentioned was the type of guy to be a few minutes early too, or right on time.
All Tied Up - for @Hairsprayed
Jan. 14th, 2023 05:34 pmThey'd planned to do this back around Christmas so that it would be thematically appropriate, but things had kept getting in the way, up to and including Steve's parents' flight being cancelled and their actually being home for New Year's Eve, which had been a definite wrench in the works on top of all the other delays, most of which had actually been fun regardless.
But finally, partway through January, they finally had time to themselves again, with Wayne off on an ice-fishing trip and Steve's parents gone to who knows where to make up for the missed New Year's Eve trip, and truthfully Eddie didn't really care why they finally had time alone, he was just thankful that they did. Mostly because he'd actually taken the delay time to practice some knots, though he already had a reasonably good idea of what he was going to do, since he had the rope for it. He'd also kept the single string of twinkle lights from the 'fireplace' accessible, just for the aesthetic of it, since that had been the original plan.
He had managed to burn through the half-nervous, almost-anxious energy well before, mostly by way of tidying up, not that Steve didn't already know how he lived, but because he needed something to do with the energy if he was going to be any use when Steve actually got there, but also by making sure that everything they were going to need was lined up on his desk within easy reach.
Which was part of why he was grinning outright when he opened the door, "On time, again, guy could get used to this."
But finally, partway through January, they finally had time to themselves again, with Wayne off on an ice-fishing trip and Steve's parents gone to who knows where to make up for the missed New Year's Eve trip, and truthfully Eddie didn't really care why they finally had time alone, he was just thankful that they did. Mostly because he'd actually taken the delay time to practice some knots, though he already had a reasonably good idea of what he was going to do, since he had the rope for it. He'd also kept the single string of twinkle lights from the 'fireplace' accessible, just for the aesthetic of it, since that had been the original plan.
He had managed to burn through the half-nervous, almost-anxious energy well before, mostly by way of tidying up, not that Steve didn't already know how he lived, but because he needed something to do with the energy if he was going to be any use when Steve actually got there, but also by making sure that everything they were going to need was lined up on his desk within easy reach.
Which was part of why he was grinning outright when he opened the door, "On time, again, guy could get used to this."
It's gonna be my year - for @ScoopsTroops
Jan. 5th, 2023 07:25 pmAfter nearly dying -and helping save the world in the process- graduating high school just... didn't seem that important in comparison. But, Eddie had made a promise that he would. He'd promised Wayne and he'd promised his mother -one of the last things he remembered saying to her before she disappeared- and Eddie Munson went back on no promises.
The ending of everyone's school year had been both disarrayed and extended, between the earthquakes, the relief efforts after the earthquakes, and so many people moving out of Hawkins that there was talk of sending at least the graduating classes to Summitville to finish out the school year, it had all been a logistical nightmare, but that had worked out in Eddie's favor in the end.
It had been a group effort to bring Eddie's remaining grades up, but out of all of them Steve had been the one he turned to most frequently, whenever he was stuck on something, or felt like he was forgetting something he should definitely remember by now, or the multiple late night crises of 'I can't do this', and Steve had been there, through it all. Steve and his infinite fucking patience, Steve who had proven to be a surprisingly loyal friend, Steve who, for some reason, Eddie was anxious about even asking: "You're going to be there to watch me walk, right?"
Maybe it would have been easier in person than over the phone, but maybe it wouldn't have, and it didn't much matter either way, since he'd asked regardless.
The ending of everyone's school year had been both disarrayed and extended, between the earthquakes, the relief efforts after the earthquakes, and so many people moving out of Hawkins that there was talk of sending at least the graduating classes to Summitville to finish out the school year, it had all been a logistical nightmare, but that had worked out in Eddie's favor in the end.
It had been a group effort to bring Eddie's remaining grades up, but out of all of them Steve had been the one he turned to most frequently, whenever he was stuck on something, or felt like he was forgetting something he should definitely remember by now, or the multiple late night crises of 'I can't do this', and Steve had been there, through it all. Steve and his infinite fucking patience, Steve who had proven to be a surprisingly loyal friend, Steve who, for some reason, Eddie was anxious about even asking: "You're going to be there to watch me walk, right?"
Maybe it would have been easier in person than over the phone, but maybe it wouldn't have, and it didn't much matter either way, since he'd asked regardless.
For a few, brief moments, Eddie had thought he was done for, but then, miracle of miracles, the bats had started dropping to the ground around him like bees when a cloud covered the sun unexpectedly. Only heavier, and wetter, and he just rolled over onto his side, curling in on himself to cover his injuries until the noise stopped.
Except that when the sound of falling bats stopped, another sound had already started, distant and deep, and he wasn't sure what to make of it, but before he could even try to figure it out Steve, Nancy and Robin were practically on top of him, making a mad dash for the trailer and the portal there to get out. Steve had realized the shape Eddie was in and told the girls to keep going, that they'd catch up. They would have caught up, if what Eddie had been hearing hadn't caught up with them first. It was a horrible sound, like a thunderclap that also tore the universe apart at the seams, all-encompassing, deep enough to send him to his knees on the pavement, but at the same time, like a wet sheet being torn.
When the noise was over, the cause of it was obvious, what had just been a gate in the ceiling of the trailer was now a massive fissure running off in the direction of the lake and another running off down the road, looking a little like some kind of giant had just unzipped the asphalt right down the middle of the street.
But there was nothing useful in any of the chasms, they'd already looked, walking along to the points where they all connected, the house, the lake, the trailer and the stretch of empty road, anywhere that had been an connection point between the Upside Down and their own Hawkins just wasn't any longer.
That had been days ago.
It was difficult to tell time, really, in the Upside Down, there weren't days and nights, really, just gloom and different-gloom, and times when the creatures were more active. For the time being, they were safe, barricaded into the Harrington's living room, window covered, exits and stairwell blocked, curled up together on the couch. Eddie's offer to take first watch wasn't as altruistic as it seemed. Mostly it was just that he'd known he wouldn't be able to sleep, not right away and certainly not easily, The Voice had been getting louder.
Most of the time it was just a slightly off-timed echo of his own thoughts, though sometimes it seemed like the worst sort of invasive thoughts. Clear-as-day, out-of-the-blue violent impulses that he had so far been able to ignore, but while they'd been setting up their burrow so they could at least try to get more than a couple hours of sleep each, the voice had started to seem like an entirely separate entity, and one that was trying to get his attention and he needed time to try and figure out if he had finally actually snapped, or if something else was going on.
It might have worked, too, except that the warm weight of Steve curled close against his side, breathing steady and even, combined with and compounded the fact that Eddie had been sleeping considerably less than Steve had, and it ended up being easier than he expected to drift off.
"Look Marce, we know he's not going to try anything if I'm right there with you, if we really want to nail him it's going to have to look like you're alone, you going to be okay with that?"
"I guess, you'll still be there though right?"
"Absolutely, you know we... We're in this together now, and I'll be there, even if you can't see me."
"Are you sure you're not Spider-Man?"
"Marceline, babe, you're the one who told me he was even here, so obviously he was here first and apparently has better things to do than deal with your stalker problem, but that's what I'm here for, right?"
"Guess so, let's do this."
Eddie wasn't sure how he'd gained the reputation of being the go-to guy who was safe to walk home from a party with after your friends all bailed, or to walk home from the club when you had to leave early, or just in general If you were having stalker problems, but it wasn't as if it was an incorrect reputation.
Granted, it definitely had more to do with Venom than it did with him, but he'd still take it.
Marcy, for instance, had been having persistent trouble with a guy she'd met at a friend's party a few months prior, the kind of guy who couldn't take a hint, and wouldn't take a flat out refusal, exactly the kind of guy that no one was really going to miss if Venom got ahold of him.
Which was how they got to where they were now; Marcy walking back to her dorm from a get-together that had run late, with Venom following not far behind moving from tree to tree. Even with the additional bulk over Eddie's wiry frame, he moved surprisingly lightly, no broken branches and barely a rustle to mark the movement.
At a time like this, Eddie could slip into observation mode and let himself drift, keeping alert for any kind of cross traffic that might spot them, or for their mark, but otherwise keeping quiet and not letting himself be a distraction, which was something he'd had to learn the hard way a couple of times. But no serious harm had been done, or, rather, Venom had repaired the damage, and that had been the weirdest sensation he'd ever experienced, but it had been long enough now that they could mostly work together, especially in a case like this.
"I guess, you'll still be there though right?"
"Absolutely, you know we... We're in this together now, and I'll be there, even if you can't see me."
"Are you sure you're not Spider-Man?"
"Marceline, babe, you're the one who told me he was even here, so obviously he was here first and apparently has better things to do than deal with your stalker problem, but that's what I'm here for, right?"
"Guess so, let's do this."
Eddie wasn't sure how he'd gained the reputation of being the go-to guy who was safe to walk home from a party with after your friends all bailed, or to walk home from the club when you had to leave early, or just in general If you were having stalker problems, but it wasn't as if it was an incorrect reputation.
Granted, it definitely had more to do with Venom than it did with him, but he'd still take it.
Marcy, for instance, had been having persistent trouble with a guy she'd met at a friend's party a few months prior, the kind of guy who couldn't take a hint, and wouldn't take a flat out refusal, exactly the kind of guy that no one was really going to miss if Venom got ahold of him.
Which was how they got to where they were now; Marcy walking back to her dorm from a get-together that had run late, with Venom following not far behind moving from tree to tree. Even with the additional bulk over Eddie's wiry frame, he moved surprisingly lightly, no broken branches and barely a rustle to mark the movement.
At a time like this, Eddie could slip into observation mode and let himself drift, keeping alert for any kind of cross traffic that might spot them, or for their mark, but otherwise keeping quiet and not letting himself be a distraction, which was something he'd had to learn the hard way a couple of times. But no serious harm had been done, or, rather, Venom had repaired the damage, and that had been the weirdest sensation he'd ever experienced, but it had been long enough now that they could mostly work together, especially in a case like this.
Going to the club - for @pinch_hitter
Oct. 20th, 2022 10:04 pmEddie wasn't sure what they were, and was honestly half-afraid of even trying to put a label on it, because that had historically not worked out well for him.
But Steve seemed to genuinely want to know more, and wasn't weird about it, most of the time, and while Eddie still couldn't be sure this wasn't going to end with him being someone's experiment, again, he was willing to give it a fair shake.
But Steve had expressed a genuine interest in visiting the club, even after Eddie had explained what kind of club it was, and Eddie hadn't really had any reason to try and avoid the visit, he'd missed the place, really, and all he'd had to say was 'it's in Chicago, you'll need a free weekend' and that was that.
The fact that he'd gotten one was all the proof Eddie needed that he was actually serious about this, and maybe about other, more nebulous things that they'd only sort of skirted the edges of so far.
At street level, the club was like any other on the block, if with a slightly more goth bent to it -though not full out like the actual goth club two blocks over- but Eddie just led Steve past the bar to a small lobby overlooking the dance floor. It looked a little like the waiting room for a lawyer's office, or maybe some kind of high-end dentist's office, with two chairs, a bookcase and a heavy wood desk. The young woman behind the desk certainly fit the aesthetic, sleek and polished and looking more than a little bit like she belonged in a Robert Palmer music video.
Eddie just beamed in his usual fashion, rapping his knuckles twice against the edge of the desk even as he said, "If you could let Madam P. know that Edward's here to see her, and I brought the baby bird I mentioned on the phone."
But Steve seemed to genuinely want to know more, and wasn't weird about it, most of the time, and while Eddie still couldn't be sure this wasn't going to end with him being someone's experiment, again, he was willing to give it a fair shake.
But Steve had expressed a genuine interest in visiting the club, even after Eddie had explained what kind of club it was, and Eddie hadn't really had any reason to try and avoid the visit, he'd missed the place, really, and all he'd had to say was 'it's in Chicago, you'll need a free weekend' and that was that.
The fact that he'd gotten one was all the proof Eddie needed that he was actually serious about this, and maybe about other, more nebulous things that they'd only sort of skirted the edges of so far.
At street level, the club was like any other on the block, if with a slightly more goth bent to it -though not full out like the actual goth club two blocks over- but Eddie just led Steve past the bar to a small lobby overlooking the dance floor. It looked a little like the waiting room for a lawyer's office, or maybe some kind of high-end dentist's office, with two chairs, a bookcase and a heavy wood desk. The young woman behind the desk certainly fit the aesthetic, sleek and polished and looking more than a little bit like she belonged in a Robert Palmer music video.
Eddie just beamed in his usual fashion, rapping his knuckles twice against the edge of the desk even as he said, "If you could let Madam P. know that Edward's here to see her, and I brought the baby bird I mentioned on the phone."
