hadriel_logs | i got the blueprint to create my own myth

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clifford norman

i got the blueprint to create my own myth

Who: Clifford Norman, Peter Rumancek, Newt
What: Cliff drops in to deliver a report on the caves and basically be little shit.
Where: House 1402
When: 3/1
Warnings: Swearing, underaged drinking and smoking, idk Cliff stuff.

[so dying hadn't exactly been a fun experience, especially only a few weeks into this extended and uninvited vacation with team hell cave, but what he could remember of his time before he'd been killed was honestly worse than anything else he could have possibly imagined.

he wasn't a fucking monster, and he didn't exactly appreciate this place trying to turn him into one.

he's not some kind of good samaritan either, of course. trying to keep other people from getting themselves killed by being stupid was just... common sense, right? which was why he'd volunteered to run through the caves for that person on the network. and while his week had wound up a touch disrupted by that whole wendigo thing (seriously, what the fuck) he'd still had time to do a bit of scouting earlier and he figured now was as good a time as any to check in with the guy and see if this whole thing was even worth continuing.

the fact that he hasn't exactly bothered to find a steady place to bunk down in yet and he's feeling weirdly nostalgic for the comfortable familiarity of oscar's kitchen right now has nothing to do with it, obviously.

cliff finds the house newt had told him about easy enough as a wolf, and it doesn't take him very long at all to recognize the smell of that peter guy all over the place, which is honestly enough to prompt him to change back into his human form and let himself in, throwing himself down onto the first available soft surface (a weird looking couch because everything in this damn cave is fucking weird). another second and he's got a cigarette out and lit and he brings it up to his mouth to inhale deeply before exhaling slowly and closing his eyes.]

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(Dying was never a fun experience. Waking up from being dead was even worse though, Newt had discovered.

Newt had spent the majority of this entire monster deal isolated. It was too much, too personal. Things seemed to be winding down though finally- much to his relief. Newt himself was just getting out of the shower, toweling his hair dry and freshly dressed in a tshirt and some sweats when he catches a familiar whiff. Cigarette smoke. And it's definitely not coming from Peter and his bedroom which means...)

Peter, I swear to God you know better than to...

(He walks out into the main room to find a very much not-Peter person laying on his couch and smoking a cigarette. For a moment, Newt just stands there, eyes wide.

Then his lips pinch up into a hard line and he stomps over to the boy and reaches down without another word and plucks the cigarette straight out of Cliff's hand. Because it had to be Cliff, right? Seemed to fit the description.)

Oh no, no, nope. House Rule #1, Cliff, we do not smoke inside. If you want to smoke, you move your butt outside onto the balcony. And don't just tap your ashes wherever. There's mugs. Bloody hell.

(Pure exasperation. He walked away with Cliff's cigarette with an air of authority only mothers were capable of. He walks right into his and Peter's bedroom, steps over Peter on the bed and opens up the balcony door before turning about and shouting so Cliff could hear him:)

C'mon and get your cigarette out here! Then I'll make you something to eat.

[peter is right in the middle of a perfectly good catnap when newt starts yelling.]

Oi!

[that's as newt steps over him, and peter smacks the back of one of those long passing legs with an open palm.]

Didn't we just have a talk about me being well trained?

[he rolls to his feet, starting to follow newt out onto the balcony before doing an about-face and going to investigate the living room instead]

And who the fuck is--oh, it's ginger. Hey, ginger. Congratulations on getting him all riled into den mother mode straight off the bat. Also, what the hell are you doing in our house?

Hey! [cliff opens his eyes and bolts upright to glare after newt steals his cigarette, though he still can't be bothered to actually pick himself up off the couch right now to get it back. which says something about his current state of mind, really.

this is weird, why does he feel like he's back home with his mom right now?]

I was doing you a favor you know! [he yells after newt. loud enough for peter to hear him too when he adds:] It reeks of fucking dog in this place!

[he casually flips off peter when the other boy walks in and starts calling him names.] I was invited here, asshole. And you owe me another cigarette for the one your fucking roommate just stole from me.

If you weren't so lazy, you could come and get it! It's not like I destroyed it.

(He would never. He's not a barbarian but he is pretty strict on the whole no smoking in the house rule.

That's because you are back home with your mom. Just replace that mom with a tall, blond teenage boy. Newt does stub out the cigarette gently into the balcony so as to not ruin it.

He walks back out into the main room, right up behind Peter and crosses his arms over his chest, face screwed up into a completely bitchy expression.)

First off, aren't you being kinda hypocritical? Secondly, Peter definitely smells like puppies not dog.

(He nods sagely, like he would know. Which he absolutely would considering he woke up almost every morning with his face planted in Peter's anywhere.

He does give Peter a bit of a sheepish look though.)

It's true, I did invite him. Just had no bloody clue when he'd show up is all.

Trust me, Newt understands the value of a cigarette. Yours is fine, you just have to get off your ass to finish it. [he sighs, heavily.] Why does everyone insist I smell like puppies?

[peter looks from newt to cliff, and then back to newt. does newt know that cliff can...he must, right? maybe? he did call cliff a hypocrite about the dog thing.]

Are we adopting another lost boy or is something else going on here?

[cliff just glares dimly at both of the boys before huffing out a low breath and dropping back into an artless slump across the sofa with an arm slung over his eyes.] Ch, whatever.

[he can't quite manage the energy right now to fight too much over his cigarette.]

I'm not a fucking dog, but you totally smell like dog so that's probably why. [he considers adding an 'idiot' at the end, but decides to focus on something a little more pressing.]

Nobody's fucking adopting me stupid. I told him I could check out the caves and he told me to come by after.

Because you do? Hardly a bad thing, pup.

(Of course Newt knows. Newt was stupidly approachable. His eyes cut over to Cliff and he walks over to him, bending over him to pick up the arm off of his eyes to squint down at him. He just as soon drops the arm.)

Peter's not a fucking dog either, shank.

(He's feeling defensive on Peter's behalf. Don't come into his house and insult his werewolf, Cliff. That's rude. He straightens up and crosses his arms over his chest, staring down at Cliff rather unamused.

Though that look quickly transforms into a look of interest.)

You went to the caves? Did you find anything?

(Annnnd he's just gonna sit right on the edge of that couch by Cliff's hip. Enjoy your personal space being invaded, dude.)

It's fine, Newt, if he wants to play pot and kettle, let him. I think it's his way of being friendly.

[peter comes over too, but he perches on the end of the couch by cliff's feet, sitting on the armrest.]

So what did you learn in the caves?

[it's really only the exhaustion that keeps cliff from reacting immediately, but somewhere between newt releasing his arm and cozying up on next to him on the couch, cliff is swinging out wildly at the other boy in a move that's honestly more of a desperate bid to put distance between them than an actual attack.

and then cliff is tumbling backwards over the arm of the couch to get away from him, a distinctly panicked look on his face as he immediately attempts to make himself a smaller target.]

Don't touch me!

(A whole lot of a lot happens in the next couple of seconds that has Newt jumping to his feet and a good few feet the opposite way from Cliff. His heart had all but leaped into his throat and the first thing he did was look down at his hands to see if they were bloody.

It was almost a straight on flashback to how other people had jumped away from him out of fear or their own craze from being sick and half the time it had resulted in his hands being filthy. They're clean now but it doesn't stop them from beginning to shake.

His head snaps over to Cliff, eyes wide and searching. With how horrified Cliff looked, he wondered for one frightened moment if he really had done something. His memories were funky when it came to Hadriel and he had only just gotten back from being a Crank. What if he really wasn't all the way healed? He was pretty sure he had been fine but...His own judgement was hardly valid. Had he said something? Done something?

His crosses his arms over his chest, tucking them up under his armpits and his own body tightens in on itself. He looked at Peter, eyes in their own panic.)

Did I hit him? Did I- do something?

(He genuinely had no clue. He's pretty sure he hadn't done anything to scare Cliff but right now, he was banking on Peter for what actually happened just now.)

[peter, for his part, is up off the end of the couch and moving for newt as soon as he and cliff go flailing in opposite directions.]

You touched him, that's all. He told me once he doesn't like to be touched, but, uh.

[his hands close around newt's upper arms, chafing them, trying to get newt to concentrate on him, and his voice goes softer, soothing.]

I guess he really wasn't kidding. You didn't do anything, Newt. You're fine. You're healthy, okay?

[peter clearly has priorities here. he doesn't look away from newt, just raises his voice slightly.]

You okay there, Ginger?

[whatever peter's priorities, it's honestly in the best interests of everyone in the room that cliff has a moment to himself to calm down and try to collect his scattered nerves.

he waits for his heartbeat to slow, his breathing to even, and then he's exploding to his feet in a frisson of angry, embarrassed energy, breezes right on past newt and peter without a word and his hands hidden in the front jacket of his hoodie, and out onto the balcony that newt had mentioned to him earlier.

it takes him less than a minute to find his stubbed out cigarette, fish out his lighter to light it up again, and position himself tightly in a corner of the balcony with his hood pulled down low over his head and a dark, wary look in his gold eyes.] Just don't fucking touch me and we'll be fine.

[for a given version of fine that could even involve cliff, anyway.]

(Newt feels his nerves settling the moment Peter touches him. Then there's the reassurance that no, he hadn't done anything. He trusted the boy entirely enough that all he needed was a couple of words solidifying what happened and his shaking began to dwindle out.

It didn't stop him from feeling guilty though. He wasn't the sort of person who wanted to make others uncomfortable and he really hadn't meant to scare Cliff.

Although Peter had clarified he hadn't done anything, he was still a little nauseous. It wasn't so easy to completely get over that. He just barely hears Cliff but doesn't respond.

He mostly just steps back and leans against the wall, staring down at the ground. He's not shaking anymore but he looks oddly drained.)

You can go ask him about the caves, okay? I'm gonna.

(He shrugs a bit and makes a vague gesture towards the kitchen.)

Yeah, okay.

[peter pets the fuzz on newt's head and gives his shoulders a bit of a squeeze.]

I'll talk to him, you do your cooking thing.

[he heads out onto the balcony, giving cliff plenty of space by leaning against the railing of the opposite corner as he lit up his cigarette.]

I'd ask you what the shit that was about, but I'm pretty sure you'd just tell me to fuck off, so how about you just tell me about the caves instead.

Scare Newt like that again and I will put a boot up your ass, though. That doesn't count as touching.

[cliff just winds up baring his teeth at peter around the cigarette clenched between them, because honestly he's not in the best mood right now for peter to be making any kind of threat. he narrows his eyes in peter's direction and flicks a bit of ash childishly his way.]

I just don't like being touched, okay. Does there really have to be a fucking reason?

[which well. there was, and cliff was even more or less aware of what that reason was. but talking about it with someone like peter was absolutely out, it wasn't even the sort of thing cliff thought he'd be willing to bring up with oscar, and he maybe trusted that man a bit more than he really should, after so little time.]

When I'm a wolf people think it's suddenly okay for them to touch my face or stomach or whatever, like the fact that I have fur somehow means that it doesn't count. Your roommate apparently didn't even need that excuse.

[there isn't a single hint of any sort of apology in his words or tone. but honestly peter should really expect that from cliff by now anyway. and yet:] When he's done doing whatever he's doing in there I'll show him my wolf so he knows not to try that shit with my then either.

[a long drag from his cigarette and then he's looking out past peter and the balcony, at the cave beyond.] Most of the monsters in the cave don't even bother me when I go in as a wolf. And the really weird ones I can smell long before they can smell me.

[peter is unmoved by the baring of teeth or the flicking of ash. the snarling about newt, however, that makes him fold his arms, cigarette left between his lips when he speaks..]

There is a fucking reason, and don't be a dickwad, because I just said I wasn't going to ask. Newt is what people commonly call 'friendly', a term which neither you nor I will ever understand in its fullness but which he is very, very good at. You don't get to come into our house and terrify him--and yeah, he's fucking terrified right now, because you just made him think he hurt you somehow--and then have a sulk about it. You have an issue. We get it. If you don't want to share with the class, then have your smoke and balls up, ginger.

[it's all delivered in the sort of calm, deadpan tone that conveys that peter's just laying down the house rules, same as not smoking inside. if he's anything more than mildly annoyed, he's not showing it.]

But yeah, you should show him, so he knows, although I think you've made it pretty clear. You're not the same as me--when I'm a wolf, I'm a wolf, and being touched isn't the same as being touched as a person. I went in with him, so I'm not sure if they would leave me alone if it was just me. You must scent differently between the two forms. You find anything else?

['terrify him'.

the words bounce around in cliff's head until he can't even see straight, and his breathing picks up almost imperceptibly until he's actually choking slightly on his smoke. he hunches his shoulders and ducks his head low until he has his breath back.

when he lifts his head again there's a slight sheen to his eyes that peter probably shouldn't bring up if he doesn't want this conversation to end right fucking now. the important thing though is that he almost looks apologetic now, for a given version of it anyway when it's involving clifford.]

... wasn't trying to scare him. [and that's seriously all he's going to say about that. he can't... he's not getting into this right now. not after what happened inside, not while he's still feeling so raw over the whole wendigo thing.

he just can't.]

It's still your face though. [cliff says, and more than anything else they've compared between their... issues, this is probably the strongest sticking point of difference between the two of them for cliff.] Being in a different shape doesn't mean you're not you anymore.

[and honestly? he might be talking about something as trivial at petting and chest scritches right now, but what he's saying is still a pretty clear insight into cliff's mentality about this whole wolf thing as a whole.]

Dunno. [a shrug, because peter's weird and maybe he just likes people touching him on the face, he hadn't seemed to have any problem touching his roommate earlier.] I hadn't gone near them until he put that thing on the network about them and I really only had a chance to run around for a bit and get a feel for the place before.

[his eyes goes shuttered, and he's back to looking out past peter rather than at him.] Before that Wendigo bullshit.

[peter squats down in front of cliff, not touching him, but close enough that cliff can smell leather and puppy and cigarette smoke.]

Hey, kid, breathe. Newt's not afraid of you. He thought he hurt you, not the other way around. He's got his own shit. Neither of us are afraid of you.

[he backs up a bit to give cliff some space and sits down on the balcony, folding his legs.]

Sure, I'm still me, but I'm also a wolf, and wolves are okay with being touched by others they deem acceptable. [he doesn't use the word pack, even though it would make the most sense here.] I don't let just anybody touch me. Sounds like you're more like a boy in wolf's clothing, not a wolf who's also a boy. Interesting. Someday I'd like to see you when I'm a wolf.

[peter sighs, and lights his own cigarette.]

Yeah, that windigo bullshit. Did you get turned?

[you learn quick peter, and cliff might not actually acknowledge it out loud, but the fact that he doesn't attempt to scoot or lean away from peter now is indication enough he appreciates the little bit of space that you're giving him.

he scowls and pulls his legs up to tuck against his chest, knocks his head back against the edge of the balcony and focuses on his working his cigarette down to the end for a couple minutes before stubbing it out next to him and finally looking back at peter.] No kidding, why do you fucking think I don't like people touching me.

[which isn't a complete answer, and isn't even a totally honest answer, but it's the most he's willing to mention right now.

something he's not okay with talking about though? that wendigo bullshit, and what he got up to during it. he darts a bright, warning glare peter's way at the question and talks about the tunnels instead.]

I don't even know what you want me to be looking for out there. Pretty sure if there was a way out through them someone would have found it by now. And all the monsters in there would have fucked off for sure to somewhere else.

You're afraid of people touching you. Difference. But besides the point. No touchy, we got it, moving on.

[peter talks with his cigarette, and then takes a moment to smoke it before he continues. he leaves the silence there where cliff doesn't mention the windigo thing, and takes it for what it is--yep, cliff caught the eating-people-flu. that, peter doesn't press on at all. he doesn't want to know about anyone's cannibalistic desires, to be frank. he's seen enough half-eaten bodies for one person.]

Smart kid, you. I don't think there's a way out. But there's something about those caves. Newt found a place where two different kinds of rock just seem to be pushed together, like someone cut a cave-sized hole out of another place and then just plunked the cave in it. We found a computer chip, but a weird one, and just one, which is also weird. Like who finds just one piece of a broken thing? Plus there's the thing with the moon. It cycles all wrong. So either we're in a place with a bunch of moons, time keeps changing, or we're moving.

Or something I haven't thought of yet. But there might be clues in the caves, cause there sure aren't in here and the gods aren't useful for much besides cigarettes and bringing people back from the dead.

[cliff bares his teeth in peter's direction, but doesn't actually argue his point, which is telling enough, honestly.

he considers bitching peter out for the kid comment, but honestly between trying to eat people, dying, coming back, and that newt guy being so fucking touchy, he honestly doesn't have the energy to pick that kind of fight right now.]

So we're fucking playing detectives then. [cliff says with a huff. if he'd known it was going to be this much effort he might not have volunteered.]

Anything weird then, yeah okay. [rolling his eyes.] Which is basically everything down here. Sounds easy enough. [it doesn't sound easy at all. he's definitely regretting things.]

You got anything better to do than play detective? Cause it's not like we're teeming with fun summer camp activities here between bouts of monsters and people-munches and being buried alive.

[peter waves a hand that's clearly dismissive of cliff's whining.]

Not weird for home, weird for here, goob. Like rocks pasted together or computer chips or smells that aren't monsters. If we can figure out what these dumbass gods are up to maybe we'll have a bargaining chip. Or at least we'll know what the fuck's going on.

[clint slumps down over his knees with a sigh. he doesn't even have the energy right now to maintain general obstinance, and that's the most telling thing of all he figures.

that whole thing with newt hadn't helped his nerves any either.] Fine, whatever, I said I'd do it, didn't I?

[just... not today.]

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i got the blueprint to create my own myth

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