logsville | ( OPEN ) FEBRUARY CATCH-ALL

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( OPEN ) FEBRUARY CATCH-ALL

Who: peter parker & carmilla karnstein & hopefully you!!!
When: the month of february (i am a little early)
Where: all over!
What: just a catch all for my two running through the month! check inside for open prompts.
Warnings: carmilla can think about some dark stuff on occasion but nothing planned at the moment. warnings will be in toplevel comments if they come up!

PETER PARKER.
PERMISSIONS. | INBOX. | APP.

CARMILLA KARNSTEIN.
PERMISSIONS. | INBOX. | APP.

WANT SOMETHING MORE PERSONALIZED? CATCH ME AT

MEOWED OR PM, OR USE THE WILDCARD OPTION!

STARTERS BELOW.
↓↓↓

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[It is objectively hilarious, is the thing, even if he imagines that his first few meals were rather similar in his obvious distaste for the whole experience. It had been a difficult adjustment, especially when so much already felt out of his control, but he's settled into it well enough.

Learning to cook had helped, since it made him feel far more in control of the situation. It isn't much, really, but he has to take these things where he can.]

Still terrible, honestly. [After tidying up the porcelain mess, he'd realised that they hadn't actually ever replaced the carpet. It's been lingering in the back of his mind, but it's also not a priority.] You enjoying your wonderful new home?

[/sarcasm.

Obviously.]

A lot more now that my "husband" disappeared.

( she could not have possibly phrased that any more incriminatingly, like she was personally responsible for the disappearing. considering how happy she'd been to fucking stab her dopple, it would be understandable for someone to presume she murdered her "husband". honestly given a bit more opportunity she very well might have tried, it's just she didn't get the opportunity because his entire existence was quietly scrubbed away like a particularly unsightly stain on cheap laminate.

still, overall, )

But the 60s blow and I'd love to pull a disappearing act myself, if it didn't probably involve being murdered and/or brainwashed. ( she's still on the fence on whether Mother is the one pulling the strings around here. it's a little provincial and dull for her mother, but who the hell else would have enough magic to trap a whole town? or reverse her vampirism?

and yes, maybe she's dead and trapped in some horrific purgatory, but that she wasn't immediately sent to burn in a lower ring of hell made no sense. no need to purify this soul, it was a lost cause a few centuries ago. )

Did him in, did you?

[While his overall opinion on the intelligence of humanity varies from day to day, he'd like to hope that someone who murdered their spouse wouldn't be so stupid as to talk about it so casually.

Anyway, this place is weird. It wouldn't shock him that people are going missing. The man probably got himself eaten by one of those fucked up reindeer.]

The brainwashing wears off, actually. [Speaking from experience, now! Which is a cool and fun thing that has happened to him.] Not sure on the murder, there's all sorts of nonsense that'd like to kill us, though I've not heard of anyone actually dying.

[Those awful porcelain creatures are just many in an ever-growing list. If Crowley weren't so happy here, he might be more worried, but in the grand scheme of things, the occasional attempted killing is more than worth the trade off. Being free from Hell is nice, even if being human sucks.]

( she lifts her eyebrows and her shoulders in an incredibly sarcastic show of innocence. little ol' her? murder a man? surely not! but that's officially all she has to say on the matter. not even a proper declaration of innocence. everyone always assumes the worst of her anyway, so why bother? )

Speaking from experience? ( because if he has had his head scrambled, he probably knows what about causes it. and how she can avoid it. Carmilla has been controlled enough in her life, she's not keen to make it easy for someone else to pull up the strings. )

You haven't, huh? Don't you figure that's the between the lines on whoever disappears? ( like her dearest husband. she's got no proof Ian's dead but she certainly has been presuming as much. everyone calls her a widow now, which honestly kinda tracks. Carmilla could sure stand to be more worried about the guy, as he'd essentially been wiped off the face of the planet like he never existed in the first place. despite the fact that had been exactly what set Laura off on her war on Silas, girls going missing and nobody caring, Carmilla is more curious about what happened to him than actively concerned. )

Mm, best to avoid getting on the wrong side of the police, if you can.

[He can't... remember exactly what they did. He recalls deciding to check out the projection booth with Archer, some of their arguing back and forth as they snuck around, but then it all gets sort of fuzzy until he'd come to himself in the kitchen, with a very cross Aziraphale waiting. It had, if nothing else, reaffirmed his decision to not fuck about with the police if he could avoid it, no matter how curious he might be about what's on the other side of the tunnel leading out of town.]

Could be, sure, but there's no proof. No body, no funeral. Maybe they've carted him off to put some personality chip in his brain?

[This is........ a joke.

But like in the way where they're in a town styled after the 60s, where all the locals act like robots, some of them worse than others, and if someone cut open one of them and found microchips in their brain, Crowley wouldn't be surprised.]

( she purses her lips in consideration. note taken. she's not exactly great at following rules or laws, but, Carmilla is indeed smart enough to hide that fact from the people most likely to give her consequences for it. and as a dumb squishy human, honestly, how much trouble can she honestly get up to?

a lot. the answer is a lot. but she's not going to admit to that.

she begrudgingly eats another bite of grilled cheese like it personally killed her puppy, before agreeing with a huff of a smokey laugh, ) Yeah, he could have used one. ( honestly girl your husband is disappeared and/or dead and you're going to kick him while he's down???? she waves a dark tipped hand, noting widely, ) Considering the status quo around here, I doubt people disappear to get more personality.

[Ma'am have you considered like, salads.

Not that Crowley can blame her for looking the way she does while trying to eat a grilled cheese. The whole concept of dairy is monumentally fucked up, in his opinion. He gets why humans resorted to it, with all the nutrients and protein and things, but at what cost?]

Oh, you know what I mean. [Does she? A bold assumption.] You ought to keep an eye out for him, see if he turns up with a placid smile in a few weeks.

( she'd hate salads just as much. why can't a girl sustain herself on chocolate, champagne, and cigarettes? honestly i can't promise she wouldn't be begrudging about having to eat, even then. it just gets old. she was more than happy to only eat a chocolate chip cookie and occasional brownie every decade or so.

she wrinkles her nose at the implication she should look out or have some kind of human empathy toward her dearly departed and/or missing husband. )

I don't give a shit if he does or not. The town thinks he's dead and I'm more than happy to do the same. ( widowhood suits her far better than actually being married. especially to a man. she's not so dramatic to say her heterosexual fake marriage had been the worst thing that ever happened to her, but that doesn't mean she'd give it a particularly favorable yelp review. )

[He immediately wrinkles his nose at her, as if somewhat affronted by what she's saying. Please, Carmilla, like he'd expect someone to have empathy. Disgusting.]

I'm not telling you to get a shite about him. M'just saying it'd be worth knowing if he turns up again completely mind-wiped. Give us an idea of whether they plan to do it to the rest of us.

[It's been relatively benign as far as he can tell, aside from the kidnapping. Even the tranquilizing was done because he stepped out of line, which isn't so much a goal as a punishment.]

( maybe it would be useful information. and it's not as if she won't keep her eyes open — but actively searching for her fake husband? definitely not her style. Carmilla wouldn't even actively search for missing coeds, and she's definitely more inclined to hot girls than unwitting husbands. granted she knew where the missing girls were the whole time, but shh.

she knocks her plate away with maybe a third of it consumed. that's all she's got. she fishes through a bag to find cigarettes instead, which she consumes far more easily than solid food. smoke and death in her lungs makes more sense than proper sustenance. it's only after she lights it and finishes her first drag that she shrugs and says, ) Well, if he shows up home, you'll be the first to know.

( that's about all she'll do. maybe. it's only a maybe, honestly, because being helpful??? that's not her vibe. stewing on information and not sharing with the class until she's tied to a chair and kept on a starvation diet for a few weeks? that's more her style. )

Aww, ta.

[Crowley puts a hand on his heart, expression a mockery of appreciation, because he's nothing if not an asshole, so he's fine with playing this game with Carmilla.

He almost considers asking for a cigarettes, but decides she probably wouldn't give him one.]

Name's Crowley, by the way, don't think we did proper introductions.

[Not that he offers to shake a hand or anything, he's apparently too busy taking a sip of his coffee and wincing a little at the taste. What he'd give for a trip to Italy for a decent espresso.]

( would she share cigarettes? in particularly perfect circumstances, maybe. it's always nice to not be the only one crippled by vices in a room. she's more giving after alcohol, though, and grilled cheese and ice water doesn't temper her mood quite the same as champagne.

Carmilla isn't great at introductions and is happy to not participate in them whenever possible. to be fair, she adopts new aliases every few decades, and it's easier to be a shadow if you never leave much of an impression. still, it's a unique situation she's found herself in. and Crowley proved decent with a shotgun and was surprisingly not that mad about the whole throwing her murderous double in his direction thing. so it's probably worth it to play nice. ...nice-ish. )

Carmilla. ( no last name. not her own and not her missing husbands. but enough of an identifier for now. she definitely judged him for his inability to drink coffee just now, as if she hadn't been offended by his judgment on her inability to eat grilled cheese. ) How long have you been stuck here?

[There's some importance to names, regardless of whether they're chosen or given, but Crowley doesn't think too much of Carmilla. Not the most common name, but not entirely rare, either. The lack of a last name equally isn't a concern, especially considering he only give a singular name to identify himself.

Not that it shows up anywhere, were someone to go looking for him, except perhaps on some old photos and papers that are littered throughout his house. He's a Fell, according to this place, which is sort of funny, really.]

S'a bit tricky to say, exactly. You might've noticed time doesn't much work right, here. Was here in October, seem to have skipped November, and then I've had December and January. It was 1961 last year, too, for the record. We're repeating the year.

( look, maybe she should have supplied another anagram. but you try coming up with unique shit for the same 8 letters. also, she's lazy. she's seen no evidence that anyone from Silas has followed her here. and if mommy dearest managed to survive a magic sword impaling, it doesn't matter what name Carmilla supplies. Lilita always manages to find her anyway. she likes Carmilla, she's been going by that long enough that she has some kind of fondness for it. so why not?

it doesn't seem to set off any alarms for Crowley, and it hasn't for anyone else. she's probably safe enough holding onto the same moniker.

she contemplates over the smoke flowering in her lungs. ) Huh. ( a time loop? that's curious. she remembers, vaguely, watching the new year roll in in a foamy pink nightgown, even though technically she arrived after that. so she gets what he means about weird, ephemeral time. hell, that's when she met him for the first time — some strange dream that was and wasn't. ) And nobody in town thinks it's weird they have to do-over a year that wasn't even fun the first time around? Interesting.

( seems very likely that whatever brain worms keep the population complacent also kept them from being alarmed that they were reliving the same year over and over. )

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( OPEN ) FEBRUARY CATCH-ALL

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