(no subject)

[imareporter]

WHO: Bobo, Karen, and Eddie/Venom
WHERE: Outside of the Inn
WHEN: Post This
OPEN TO: Bobo/Karen/Eddie/Venom
Warnings: none yet.


Eddie sticks his hands in his pockets and ignores the shifting beneath his skin. He and Venom feel powerful, capable, ready to fight and there's nowhere that's easier then with the three of them. Making sure they're safe, they're okay. That's what heroes do right?

Exactly

He glances up at the slowly dimming sunlight.

"...You're gonna take over this if I pass out right V?"

We will do our best Eddie. We are Venom. We are truly together. It feels good.

The moment he sees the first person he stands up, "...you guys want to sit? To talk?"

Comments

[fooloftheking]

When Karen contacted him about meeting up with Eddie and Venom, Bobo instantly worries. He thinks about Eddie when they'd been on the shrine. He thinks about Karen and how he should have gathered her up off the floor and held her through that.

Those things are in the past though, and all he can do is be there for them now.

Smiling slightly when Eddie rises, giving him a nod. "Sure, that works. You doing okay?"

He feels the oddness like a cold lying just beneath the surface, where you know something is wrong but you're not sure what. Ignoring it though as he slides out of his jacket, revealing the wraps around his hands and wrists but without a second thought for them as he lays the coat aside over the back of a chair.

[digging]

It's cold out here, and most any conversation is better suited to the three of them seated inside with their chairs scuffed up beside the crackling fireplace. But this isn't most any conversation, and if being on that mountaintop taught them anything, it's that the three of them aren't exactly normal people. If someone were to walk up, to interrupt them, even meaning well... Karen doesn't think she could stand it.

"Sure," she assents, eyes skipping over Bobo's bandages as she tugs her coat closer and sinks into one of the rickety chairs kept on the porch. Her gaze slides to Eddie, eyebrows lifting. Even now, it's hard to know if he's acting 'weird' by his normal standard — The man is host to an alien parasite, he left the conventional standard of weird behind awhile back.

[imareporter]

"Better then I probably should be." Eddie and Venom are of one mind on this and he looks and feels a little straighter, a little more commanding, "But I want to hash out a few ground rules regarding what we...went through."

He sighs, "I'm a notorious sad sack so I'm fine with people knowing shit about what I'm doing but I don't intend to reveal anything about you guys's histories and I hope, you can agree that's smart."

His hands squeeze together.

"Second thing. Your guys's wristbands. They change?"

[fooloftheking]

The temperatures remind him of home. Much of the village does, with the temperatures and the way the weather is turning. How all of this place looks. There's a comfort to be found there, one that he doesn't entirely feel most days. These days, since the change, it's only been worse but he feels the need to reconnect with the man he is, not the one he's feeling of late.

"I didn't plan to talk about your lives with anyone. Hell, I don't even talk about Venom to most that haven't met him." Giving Eddie a look, still trying to work that out in his head. "I talk enough about what I am, and the monster I am, but thank you."

His hand goes to his covered wrist, touching the hidden band for a moment. "Yeah. It changed. A lot more than that damn band too."

[digging]

"I wouldn't tell anyone," Karen confirms, sliding her gaze between the two of them. "It's not mine to tell. It wasn't theirs to tell," she adds with a vague flip of her hand skyward, the easiest shorthand for the person or persons playing god with them all here.

Truthfully, while it's nice to have it definitively confirmed, she hadn't worried about any of them telling what they'd seen; the experience had drawn them into a sort of silent pact, a circle of shared trauma. Violating that understanding would have felt terribly wrong.

"Your message was the first time I'd heard of it," she says, of the wristbands. "I've been kind of... keeping to myself." Which they all surely can understand. She glances to her own wrist, the band there still black, and then looks back up, brow pinched. "What do you mean, more than the band has changed?"