OUR HOUSE

[saltwaterlungs]

CHARACTERS: Phil, Dimitri, Darcy, Ruby, the Venom Symbiote, and you!
DATE: June
LOCATION: The farmhouse on 499 Winter's Avenue
SITUATION: Home-making and housewarming
WARNINGS: Usual warnings for all characters involved but otherwise n/a

I'll light the fire, you place the flowers in the vase (Closed to phil/dimitri/ruby/venom)

Moving out of the Oak and Iron has been on Darcy’s mind- well. Virtually since she got to Pumpkin Hollow. But with Phil back and all, they started making plans for it in earnest. A combination of saving up and mysterious brass from some old dude fairy (??? she isn’t asking too many questions) means that they have the means. All they have to do is do it.

The week prior to the housewarming is spent working in and around the construction of a couple of new rooms, subdivided up from the old floor plan. Paint, wallpaper, fresh fabric to reupholster some of the furniture, a lot of cleaning. Plus there’s the logistics of moving all their stuff, which is significantly harder without cars and on an island that’s bigger than one ship. Darcy doesn’t even have that much shit, it just all stacks up somehow.

She spends her time mostly between generally assisting the move, setting up the kitchen, and putting her room together once they’ve finished building it. Darcy can be found doing any of those three things.

Rest your head for just five minutes, everything is done (Open)

It’s not going to be the shindig to end all shindigs, but once the dust has settled and everyone’s recovered from moving everything around, friends and family will get a call inviting them over. All the windows are open for the mild Summer night air, the curtains drift a little in the breeze, and the song of crickets can be heard from anywhere in the house. The lights inside the house are warm and cheery, and seem to beckon you in, the shadows around them seeming… darker, somehow.

There’s lemonade with some Phil-made ice cubes in it, and Darcy hasn’t moved from the kitchen in service of making canapes to feed anyone who shows up. Cold cuts on bread, sandwiches with cucumbers left over from the carnival, small fish cakes. It’s a good way to break the kitchen in. When the food has been made, Darcy sets up out the front on the porch, curled up with some lemonade on one of the chairs, looking out into the night and making some small greeting to anyone who approaches.

Life used to be so hard, now everything is easy cause of you

[wildcard!]

Comments

[goodweather]

i want a hundred days [construction] [closed to cr]

My god, he thinks, when they first arrive at the spot, at the home they’re going to expand, with the weeds they’ll have to dig up and the walls they’ll have to build and the furniture they’ll have to upholster, and a rickety, splintery bridge crossing the creek between it and the road.

My god, he thinks, as they’re putting it all together. Scrubbing and hammering and putting together, with the advice and helping hands of some townsfolk who know better than them about putting together a house. Whenever he’s out there he wears a scrap of fabric tied over his bad eye. He’s sweating his ass off anyway—there’s no reason to try and look good.

Most of his time is spent working with others in the actual building of the house: setting foundations, sawing planks and hammering stairs, the carrying of glass for windows. After that he busies himself with the arrangement of furniture and the planning of rooms. There’s no enough room for four people upstairs, so it’s looking like he’s bunking up next to the kitchen. (And the front door.)

As the days carry on, the physical toll starts to catch up with him: soreness, pains, bruises. But hey, Hawkeye was right: he doesn’t really get headaches when he’s out there, even with all the sunlight and hammering.

My god, he thinks, we’re really doing this.

of bright light [housewarming party, 1] [open]

As the adult, the patriarch of the house, and also the one with the most extroversion, most social skills, and least amount of present depression, it’s up to him to plays the gracious host. Host he very much shall.

Phil circulates in the party, making sure to greet each guest, that everyone is fed and watered, making small talk with everyone he can find. Saying things like, “hey, thanks for coming, so glad you could make it,” or “have you tried (one of our various snacks)? Darcy made them,” or “temperature okay for you? Not too warm in here?” or checking in on whatever current events he knows to be going on in their lives. (Honestly, it reminds him a bit of having to say hi to everybody at his wedding.)

The cool breeze that always surrounds him blows brightly and lightly, and the orange glow that follows him is warm. It’s warmer than it’s been in some time.

My god, he thinks. We really have a house.

we’ll break the hearts and say goodbye [housewarming party, 2] [open]

As the night winds on, his stamina starts to flag. When the party seems self-sufficient enough to go on for a little while without him, Phil slips away upstairs to sit in the dark hallway. Just for a moment. One quiet moment where he can nurse his headache.

If he heard anyone following after him, he’ll greet them with a little wave. “Just taking a breather. Don’t mind me.”

you will never die [wildcard]

(( hit me! ))

I want a hundred days

[saltwaterlungs]

[ Darcy stretches out after the last of the wallpaper on the wall they're working on in the living room is stuck up, yawns as they take a step back to look over it. Her fucking back- is this what being old is like? The glue they're using has a weird and kind of strong smell, and Darcy glances over to Phil to gauge whether or not she can suggest they take a break. ]

Feels like we're building the fucking arc, [ Darcy stifles a yawn, rubbing her hands together to try and peel some of the dried glue off, ] if the island floods again, everyone can just come here with two of each animal.

[goodweather]

Don’t make me even more of a single father than I already am.

[ He’s never claimed to be dad to Dimitri or Ruby and likely never will, but he is very much taking unofficial guardianship and some responsibility for them. Like, they’re young adults who are going to be living in his house and they’re Darcy’s adoptive siblings. So.

Phil’s been busy fussing with the arrangement of furniture. There’s not a ton he can do with the house still being unfinished, but he’s still busy summoning up every ghost of Rita’s interior decoration criticism to do it.

Anyway, this end table is getting shoved over here. ]

How are you doing? Need a break?

[saltwaterlungs]

I don't remember the part in the bible where Noah did animal parenting. Dibs not bunking with the horses.

[ There's a hesitation before Darcy answers, ] ehn. Maybe a small one. Only if you want one, I'm happy to keep going if you don't.

[ It should never be said that Darcy didn't carry her own weight. She's contributing as much to the house as any of the rest of them- aiming for more than the rest, even if she's not managing it. ]

[goodweather]

[ Okay, well, he sees that hesitation and Darcy is going to just keep matching him, and Phil wants Darcy to take a break so he guesses they're both taking a break. He takes a long, long stretch, grunting as he twists his back. ]

Let's sit down for a second. [ He moves to a set of boxes that haven't been unpacked yet and takes a seat, sighing as he does. A thumb absently rubs at the still-fresh starburst scar on his wrist. ]

Good stuff so far, mm? Building our own addition to a house.

[saltwaterlungs]

Mm. Feels like there's kind of a lot to do still.

[ Always more to do, always further to go. ]

I've never actually like. Lived in a house before. Like a house-house and not an apartment.

[goodweather]

... Oh, yeah. Huh.

[ The mild surprise is both from the fact that Phil grew up in a house, as well as sifting through the mingle of memories he has of Darcy. ]

I haven't lived in one since I moved out for college. It's been... a while. It's nice, though. Only thing is you have to maintain and fix everything yourself.

[saltwaterlungs]

Yeah. You remember where we grew up.

[ Only because nobody else is in the room right now. They both remember the apartment in Monplasir, on the rue Saint-Nestor, with all the other apartment blocks lined up the street. The bus stop, the metro station with the big monument to the Lumiere brothers, the markets a short walk away...

Home, still. ]

After the cabins, honestly, I'll take it. Nice to have something to spend our time actually doing. Especially since we don't have movies anymore. I never did get to the end of that season of bake-off.

[goodweather]

Hey, maybe your laptop will turn up in Calloway’s. We still have electricity. I can get Tarantulas to jury-rig a charger.

[ Or something. God, he misses Wikipedia. ]

But yeah, it’s… nice to have more than a couple hundred square feet to ourselves. And we can actually make it ours. Our own furniture, our own curtains, you know. I think I want a patio out back.

we’ll break the hearts and say goodbye

[pineapplesalmon]

César looks surprised for a moment and then lets out an embarrassed laugh. "I, ah, am doing the same thing. So don't mind me, either."

He doesn't even hesitate to sit in the hall, just does it, back against the opposite wall from Phil. Far enough away for private contemplation but close enough for conversation.

[goodweather]

"Oh! Hey, César."

He'd greeted the man some time downstairs, but had been quickly pulled away for another matter, so he didn't get to say a proper hello. He's glad now to see his old friend with a bit more time for themselves, even if... even if this César never knew him.

"How's the party so far? You having a good time?"

[pineapplesalmon]

"A great time. It's been forever since I've been to a small house party like this. It feels... really good." César looks rather relaxed, happy, and unstressed. "Just need a quieter moment to recharge."

[goodweather]

That gets César a winning little smile from Phil. "I'm glad to hear it. I haven't hosted in a long while, so I was a little worried I'd gotten rusty."

... And normally he would be glad to let things lie here, to give them both a quiet moment of peace in each other's company, but he ought to say something. Now at least César's used to the idea of the multiverse, so this conversation shouldn't be too weird or difficult.

"Hey, uh, I should probably mention it to you if nobody has yet. You know how there was a bunch of us coming from a weird interdimensional prison ship?"

[pineapplesalmon]

"You haven't."

It's César's turn to give a little smile, although his is reassuring. "Yes, from the Serena Eterna, where a version of me had two husbands."

Phil's right that he's used to the idea; César also wants to spare Phil from rehashing what he already knows.

[goodweather]

"Ah." Relief settles on his shoulders. "Yeah, that. We were good friends. I thought you should know. I'm glad you came; I'd missed you."

He shifts, settling into where he's seated, taking the moment to think. "Sometimes we got objects from between dimensions. Once, you'd gotten a miniature model version of your mobile lab--like an RC car. You called me to watch you pilot it, and told me that after you drove it around a little, you'd let me try. So you got to calibrating the speed. I remember you saying that the original could travel just under the speed of light, so you figured that the smaller one's speed would be scaled down accordingly."

A soft glint of laughter enters his eyes, the soft orange glow of his Mantle reflecting into them. "Well, it hadn't. The moment you pressed 'forward' on the joystick, it smashed into the nearest empty building and exploded."

[pineapplesalmon]

César figured they were friends the second Phil brought up the ship, and he smiles a bit wider when he's proven to be correct. "I'm still warmed by how many friends he had. Dimitri said he knew me before, so I figured others close to him might've, too."

He looks surprised for a moment (partially at the story, partially at the glow in Phil's eyes) and then lets out a crack of laughter. "Oh, no. That's so horrible! You would think that would be scaled down, too, right?? And here I thought Rex was hard on his toys!"

[goodweather]

Phil laughs as César does, deep and with the whole of his chest. “We blew a hole in the side of that building! Started something of a fire, too, but we got it put out. It was a magic realm, too, so we didn’t pay a cent in damages. We were a couple of lucky dogs for having just blown up a wall.”

bright light

[not_the_last]

She makes her way through the party, looking for her hosts first.

(Housewarming. It's a concept that makes sense to her, but not one she ever expected to experience. She's not altogether sure how one's supposed to behave at one of these.)

Once she's in the right room, of course, Phil isn't hard to spot. She brightens and heads in his direction, her hair stirring in the breeze.

[goodweather]

Phil turns and there's a streak of white in his vision, belonging to a familiar head. When he sees her, the glow on his shoulders surges warmly.

"Cassandra!" he greets. "I'm so glad you could make it." And a little relieved, if only because he was worried that the idea of being in Darcy's house would scare her off. "How have you been? Doing okay lately?"

[not_the_last]

"Yes, I'm doing well." She casts a look around the room, and smiles at him. "Your new house is lovely. I'm so happy for you all."

[goodweather]

"Thank you!" he beams. "Dimitri's been doing construction work, so he did a lot of figuring out how to actually build the thing properly, and a lot of the heavy lifting." Of course. "Aside from being told what to do, I mostly figured out layout and where all the furniture was going. We still haven't completely done up everything yet, but that can wait."

[not_the_last]

"It's good to be able to make a place yours," she says. "I'm hoping to have a chance to do that myself, once I've settled in. At least with regard to furnishings and such."

[goodweather]

"All it takes is time, but it does take time," he assures, suddenly deeply aware that aside from the cabin on the ship, he's pretty sure Cassandra has largely only lived in a castle that had already housed her ancestors for ages. Does she know much about interior design, he wonders.

"A house takes a long time to furnish in a way that makes it really feel like yours. You have live your life in it to leave the evidence of you in there, you know?"

[not_the_last]

"Exactly. And," unknowingly echoing his thought, "the closest I've ever come to that is rearranging things in the castle, after the Briarwoods were gone."

A beat. "I turned the long table perpendicular, in the main dining room."

(Not the grand hall, where they held the feast that one terrible night; the smaller hall where the family dined together, often with high-ranking members of the household or less formally-received guests.)

[goodweather]

His brow shoots up.

With a barely suppressed laugh: “Is there still room to slide past the end seats?”