ph_logs | I think you ought to walk with me and be safe [November Open]

I think you ought to walk with me and be safe [November Open]

Who: Chris Freeman & ... First Aid (

lovinglefthand) / Erik Osborne (

lordoftheozarks) / River la Croix (

somebodychildofanyone) / The Shade (

deaths_head) ... & YOU!
What: catch-all, wildcard, and promised threads
When: in-game November, post-Pumpkinfest
Where: All around town
Warning(s): discussions of trauma, past deaths (in-game and backstory) are likely; probably NSFW in the Erik thread, lbr... mind the comment headers if anything else comes up.

OPEN - Hey there Little Red Riding Hood, you sure are lookin' good...
Chris happens to find the idea of seniority based on who's been on Marrow Isle the longest to be an absurd way to organize things. Dr. Winterbottom, despite her retirement, is the final authority for medical matters because she's a local and has the most experience out of all of them. Chris isn't sure exactly how to organize everyone else, but they consider themself at the bottom of the rankings, having only book learning, some experience as a medical assistant, and employment history as a coroner.

So it's not unusual to see Chris taking on the 'drudge work' -- arranging appointments for people, making home visits for follow up purposes, arranging supply contacts for 'the real doctors' to get the things their clinics need. This frees up people like Sally Boyle, First Aid, Dr. Pierce, and Dr. Watson to do the things that only they -- trained and experienced pharmacologists, doctors, and surgeons -- can do.

It's very likely to see Chris somewhere around town on an errand of some sort, or even visiting the outskirts to keep tabs on people who live away from the town center.

CLOSED to First Aid - You spent your stipend on THAT?
"You got the general store to tell you what grocery package I bought for next month?" Chris asks. They fold their arms over their chest defensively. "I'm an adult, you know. I can spend my money as I please."

The confrontation with First Aid is most likely taking place at the Winterbottom Clinic after hours. Seems that First Aid is very serious about making sure that everyone is as healthy as possible. Including their co-worker Chris.

CLOSED to Lord Erik Osborne - I promised you a fashion show...
Chris finally accepted their fate as one of Dr. Agnes Winterbottom's sucessors, and took over running her clinic at the end of October. As of November first, they've been given a small house within walking distance of said clinic, and moved their few material possessions from a room at the Oak and Iron into the house.

Chris asked Sam to deliver a letter to Erik -- and the vampire lord will find that it's an invitation to visit Chris's new home.

Part of it reads: 'Any evening that you're free, just give me a day's notice so I won't be on call that night. I promised you a little fashion show, remember?'

(Which may be enticing on its own, but this also gives Erik a chance to satisfy his curiosity about Chris's powers. Answering questions in private is usually more comfortable.)

CLOSED to River - A miracle of food engineering... (and maybe other engineering too)
Despite slightly rocky interactions -- Chris cried during their first conversation, and River accidentally sliced her fingers during their second -- Chris is actually feeling pretty good about a friendship with the head blacksmith of Infernal Arms and Armor.

And because it worked so well last time (with Sam), Chris trades in one of their last food vouchers for some savory hand pies from the Oak and Iron's kitchens. Come lunch time, they are at River's forge with a basket of food to share.

Has River been introduced to the idea of hand pies yet?

Chris also has some ideas for a bed -- an old design in their own world, not available on Marrow Isle -- that could help with post-surgical recovery. Zie wants to talk about the idea with River, and see if fabricating the parts is doable... either with her team, or from John who does less weapon-related forging.

CLOSED to The Shade - Death dad and death son go a-hunting
Both Chris and the Shade have a connection to death, something that the Shade could easily see when they met at a shooting game during Pumpkinfest. That hadn't been the right venue to get more information on using that connection to death with a weapon, as the Shade offered to teach them about... but some time in November?

Chris heads over to the Shade's place one morning, at his invitation. They've got their most sturdy shoes and sensible clothes on (no skirts or slippers today), and just their first aid kit in their ever-present bag. Chris isn't quite sure what these lessons will entail, but they are determined to be a good student.

OPEN - Wildcard
Did I promise something with Chris and forget it? It happens, my brain is a garbage fire. Feel free to toss anything at us here.

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There's a flash of gratitude in Chris's eyes when they realize that Erik isn't judging them. And yes, he is a trusted companion.... already someone precious to Chris.

"He was afraid. We were both so afraid." Chris confesses, "Sometimes, in my dreams, I hear him say that I should be dead and not him. But that's... that's just my guilt talking. He didn't understand me at all, but he did love me."

Chris nuzzles Erik's neck, kisses his skin softly, and asks, "Is there... something else you want to know? I don't... I can't dwell on my first death. It still hurts, Erik." And Chris presses a hand over their own heart for a moment, to communicate that they mean an emotional pain.

Edited (pronoun confusion) 2023-11-21 04:13 (UTC)

"I understand, Chris. I cannot dream anymore, but I still carry a great deal of guilt about how my twin sister was lost. We did not agree on much, she and I, and there were things I could not forgive her for, but I loved her too. I did. Losing her was painful." And yet, at the same time, it was a relief. That's what bites at him most. He barely needs the hint to know what kind of pain Chris means.

"Of course. I won't bring it up again unless you do. There are plenty of other things I'd like to know, some of them more mundane but no less important. I want to know what you like to eat and drink, what colors you prefer, what style of dress you find most comfortable, what you used to do for work, and more. I'd like to understand the life you came from. I'll trade you by telling you of mine."

There's a wise-ass retort that pops into Chris's mind, but they meant what they said about knowing when to make trouble and when to avoid it. (~~But... Nazareth were really onto something when they said Love Hurts.~~) Instead, all Chris says is, "I'm sorry about your sister. That you lost her, and that losing her meant you can't resolve all those disagreements you had."

As Erik lists off those mundane things that he'd like to know about Chris, Chris starts to smile a little. It's easy to dwell on the darker emotions, to sink in that mire and forget that there are good things in life still. And being reminded of the little things does help.

"Aidie would say whatever I like to eat and drink, I don't get enough of it." Chris rolls their eyes, but their tone is fond. "There's this little place in Old Gotham that does fusions of French and Chinese street food. I'd usually go order that when my job was really stressful and I needed to give myself a 'treat'. One of my favorites was their version of galette saucisse... it's a buckwheat pancake wrapped around a grilled pork sausage and garnished with mustard. But they use Chinese sausage and napa cabbage, and you can opt for spicy mustard."

Chris rests their head on Erik's shoulder. "As for work... I'll tell you a secret. I was working as a coroner with the Gotham City Police Department, but... I'd use my powers to talk to the ghosts of the dead, and help solve the crimes. It drove Detective Xiao crazy that I didn't 'leave police work to the police'."

"Thank you." It's a simple but heartfelt response. He doesn't want to linger on those old hurts, either.

Seeing the smile start to creep into Chris's expression does a lot to lift his mood, too. "That sounds like an interesting combination. My former servant, Max, would have loved to try it for himself. He was very fond of baking and cooking." Poor Erik never even got to try either of those cuisines, but they do smell nice.

"A coroner? I see no reason to be ashamed of that. If the police don't want the help, then they are the fools. But, they often are."

"Oh no, I tell everyone that I worked as a coroner. The secret is that I used my powers. I never told anyone at home about that part, and you're the first person I've told it to here."

They run their hand along Erik's chest, then begin trailing their fingers along his side. Their voice is thoughtful as they ask, "You miss him, don't you? Max. I wish I could meet him, too. Because he's important to you."

"Oh, I'm sorry. Because you weren't believed about them?"

He's the first to know here? He nuzzles in close of kisses them. "Thank you for trusting me with that secret." He'll treat it with the utmost care.

A long sigh makes his chest depress beneath their fingers. Max... does he even have the right to miss his Pet?

"I do. He was one of the first bright spots that entered my life in a long time. But, for him, it wasn't the same. I miss him dearly but... I am glad he is not here, now. The last place I left him, he was happier than I'd ever seen him. Happier than I could ever have made him."

"More because... if I had been believed about my abilities, I would be forced into service to the government." A smile flickers over Chris's face at that nuzzle and kiss, and they kiss Erik back softly. "Where I am from, most people with superhuman abilities are called metahumans. There are others who get their powers in other ways. But I'd be considered a metahuman. And you don't... you don't see metahumans with regular jobs. Either they dress up in costume, hide their faces, and work as vigilantes... or they come under the purview of the Department of Metahuman Affairs. It happens even with children... D.O.M.A. runs orphanages full of metahuman children. If they know who we are, we aren't given a choice."

When Erik answers more about Max, Chris stays silent. They still touch Erik gently, petting him as an offer of reassurance.

"Then... I hope he stays happy where he is. If that other place is better for him, then it's good you let him go." Chris is quiet again for a moment, then wonders aloud, "If Max did end up here, on Marrow Isle... you wouldn't take him on as a servant again, would you? If he didn't want to be."

The question takes on some extra weight, given what Chris just disclosed about the situation at home, for people like them. In this way, at the very least, there is a right answer and a wrong one.

"As lovely as you might look in a mask, I wouldn't want to see you out facing dangers that way all the time. I'm sorry you were made to hide what you are." Chris's talk of choice doesn't go unnoticed. It's still loud in his ears when the subject turns to Max.

"I didn't let him go. He was whisked away to that place in much the same way we have been transported here. I couldn't have let him go if we were both still in our own worlds. There are vampires who want his blood and I am all that stands between them." As pretty as it would sound to say he gave Max his freedom, that's not the truth. Max took the opportunity presented to him. Still...

"If he came here, I would not force him, no. Last we spoke, he made it very clear that he intended to remain a free man. I told him I would honor that. I will. Still, I cannot help but long to be close to him again. Not as his master but... as something." A friend? A lover? Confidant? Even he isn't sure what word would fit.

"Me? Lovely in a mask?" Chris taps Erik on the nose. "Are you thinking of how I dressed up for the gala? Because superhero masks aren't nearly that sparkly."

(Chris can't judge, though. They think back to that first meeting with Erik every so often, and still get warm, fluttery feelings about it.)

Chris listens with far more seriousness as Erik explains the situation with Max, how Max was separated from Erik and took his own freedom. "Then it's good that you honored his determination to be free, when the circumstances of your own world don't apply. It sounds like it wasn't easy for you." They reach out, caress the side of Erik's face, and say, "Friends might be a good place to start, if you see Max again. If he'd be willing to, of course. ...We're friends, you and I."

"I think of that often," he says with a cheeky grin. But, all right, he does have some vague sense of the type of mask they really mean. He's not completely insulated from pop culture.

"It wasn't, no. I was attached to him. Max's presence in my life was grounding. I took that much too much for granted." His eyes don't meet theirs when they reach for his face. He's looking somewhere into the middle-distance. Friends...? Would he be able to leave it at that? Would he be able to resist not trying to make things as they were? They may be giving him more credit than he deserves. Seeing Max with his new lovers made his blood boil in ways that still scare him.

"We are," he finally turns his eyes to them, trying to shake away the gloom. "And that is not trivial to me in the least. I sometimes catch myself thinking what we have is more than mere friendship but I think the truth may be that I have gone so long without a friend, I forgot how powerful such bonds could be."

"And just so you know, my lord," that playful tone is back in Chris's voice, "now that I know you're supposed to leave him be like he wants, I'll keep you in line if he and his friends end up here."

Chris shifts, moving from their spot lying beside Erik in order to put one leg over him so that they straddle his body instead. Both of Chris's hands come up to smooth Erik's hair and pet along the sides of his face and neck.

"I didn't want to be... presumptuous," Chris admits. "And... even if we decide to be more than friends, I want to also stay your friend. Is that... can we do that?"

"Between you and River, I'm sure I'll be kept on the straight and narrow. Well, perhaps not straight." His tone is light to cover for the deep-seated dread that settles into his core just at the thought of not only Max coming here but his friends following. He might never know peace again if that bitch, Erin, shows up.

But it's hard to stay worried when he has such a lovely distraction straddling him. But Chris is bringing up another good point. Now that River has been mentioned, too, it might be time to start defining things.

"Chris, sex with you is wonderful and extremely satisfying, of course, but it's my friendship with you that I value most. I wouldn't trade one for the other. So, yes, if we decide to call this more than friendship, I wouldn't wish for anything to fundamentally change. That said, you are aware that I am dating River? Who is, herself, dating Miss Whitlock simultaneously."

Chris smiles warmly at the confirmation that their friendship is valued. (It may have become a common sentiment since they arrived in Pumpkin Hollow, but that doesn't lessen how nice it is to hear.)

They do pause a moment upon hearing that River is dating Erik and Annabel Lee, but it's not long before the smile returns. "Oh, dearie dearie me, what a web I've wandered into..." Chris says lightly. They lean down and nuzzle their nose against Erik's. "I like River. She's always been nice to me. But I didn't know you two were involved."

There's no jealousy there. If River is dating someone else while dating Erik, clearly it's not an exclusive relationship. (Erik's job doesn't enter into things, a job is a job and a relationship is different.)

"I am as surprised as you are," Erik admits. He's still uncertain how good of an idea it is to let himself be this involved. But the draw of having something he's been denied for so very, very long is too great for him to set aside. He wants this to work. Part of him wonders if this isn't exactly what that woman who met him at the outset of this meant when she asked him to build a new life, to find purpose, and seek out his salvation.

"We made it official at the festival, during the day before it all went so wrong." It wasn't long after Chris had left her with a bleeding hand from pumpkin carving.

"I'm glad you two get along well. She's a good friend to have. And, I'm sure it's obvious, but we are both the type of person who can have more than one romantic bond at once. The web may yet grow wider." He says that last tentatively, asking without saying the words, whether that is something Chris can tolerate.

"Mm, well, I've been keeping any other dates that I have pretty casual," Chris responds, "But I'll never begrudge you happiness, however you find it. I care about you, Erik."

They lean down a little and kiss Erik softly on the lips, then say -- soft and serious, "I don't think that's going to change. You are very important to me."

Erik closes his eyes and savors that kiss and, more than that, he savors their words. Sometimes he still fears he might wake up to find this was all a spell or hallucination. How long has it been since someone cared about him without the shadow of some ulterior motive lurking behind it?

"I can say the very same. You are so precious to me. Still, should you find someone who makes you happy, and should that mean you must commit to only them, I will gladly stand aside and remain your friend. I want you to have no fear of losing that."

Chris may be a little strange, with their connection to death, but they are reasonably real. And their feelings for Erik are genuine and without pretense.

And when Erik calls them precious, Chris smiles brightly. They move to rest their head against his shoulder, repositioning themself so they can lie down more comfortably, and give him a squeeze with both arms and legs -- a full body hug.

"I like being your friend. I like being with you." They peek back up at Erik, and that smile has become a little smirk as they say, "Anybody who says I couldn't stay your friend wouldn't make me happy. I think you're pretty stuck with me, my lord."

He closes his eyes so he can savor the warmth of them pressing against him, hugging him with their entire body. It feels so right.

When they move to peek up at him, he lifts one eyelid to peer down at that cute little smirk. "Oh no," he says in obvious mock distress, "what a terrible fate." And then he hugs his arms tight around them to hold them close again. Mm hm. A terrible fate, indeed. What ever will he do?

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I think you ought to walk with me and be safe [November Open]

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wrap!