For how foreign a beast they may be, Rue knows well enough how to make themself comforting and familiar to appeal to those humans and fae around them, so they aren't completely ostracized for their wild shape. And if Peter now finds any comfort in that gesture, they are all too happy to shower all of that warmth right down upon him.
He's going to be alright. He will. They just need to get out of all of this snow!
"How about you start with telling me about your friends back home? I would love to hear about any of them."
Peter's seen true beasts. True evil, brought to the surface; appealing shape or otherwise, Rue's bearing is earnest and kind. Besides, despite the anxiety that perpetually coats Peter's tongue, his spidey sense hasn't set off with them, this entire conversation. Maybe it's naïve, but Peter trusts that assessment implicitly.
"Uh..." Peter huffs a laugh, rubbing his free hand awkwardly over the back of his neck. "...I don't really...have any?"
Friends that aren't dead or in an asylum? It's definitely sad that Peter has to fish for a name, before he finally settles on: "There's a girl at the paper I work for, uh, Betty. She's nice. I bring her coffee in the morning, I guess she's - yeah. A friend."
The train pulls up, a beat later, and Peter gestures forward as the doors open with a quiet shhhk. Owl-bears first, of course.
Oops, okay, maybe that was a misstep on Rue's part. They hardly wanted to speak on sore subjects -
"Oh, you work for a paper? Whatever do you do? Do you quite enjoy it?"
Nailed it. Rue's big eyes smile down at Peter at the offer for them to go first, and with a grace that's maybe surprising given their shape and size, Rue glides onto the train and finds a seat appropriate enough for an owlbear, with an open seat across from them so they can still speak.
"Yeah, it's uh - local to New York. It's called the Daily Bugle. I'm a photographer. Freelance, mostly, but sometimes Jonah throws me a bone with an assignment."
Peter follows Rue into the train car, peering around curiously. It seems like any regular train car, save the fact that it's way cleaner than any of the subway cars Peter is used to frequenting. He folds himself into a pretzel across from Rue, knees tucked under the seat arm rests, because he never did figure out how to sit normally. "I like it. Doesn't pay that great, but it gives us a little extra cash - May and me, I mean. I've always liked photography, as a hobby."
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newyorknative2024-06-14 11:33 am
no subject
He's going to be alright. He will. They just need to get out of all of this snow!
"How about you start with telling me about your friends back home? I would love to hear about any of them."
no subject
"Uh..." Peter huffs a laugh, rubbing his free hand awkwardly over the back of his neck. "...I don't really...have any?"
Friends that aren't dead or in an asylum? It's definitely sad that Peter has to fish for a name, before he finally settles on: "There's a girl at the paper I work for, uh, Betty. She's nice. I bring her coffee in the morning, I guess she's - yeah. A friend."
The train pulls up, a beat later, and Peter gestures forward as the doors open with a quiet shhhk. Owl-bears first, of course.
no subject
"Oh, you work for a paper? Whatever do you do? Do you quite enjoy it?"
Nailed it. Rue's big eyes smile down at Peter at the offer for them to go first, and with a grace that's maybe surprising given their shape and size, Rue glides onto the train and finds a seat appropriate enough for an owlbear, with an open seat across from them so they can still speak.
no subject
Peter follows Rue into the train car, peering around curiously. It seems like any regular train car, save the fact that it's way cleaner than any of the subway cars Peter is used to frequenting. He folds himself into a pretzel across from Rue, knees tucked under the seat arm rests, because he never did figure out how to sit normally. "I like it. Doesn't pay that great, but it gives us a little extra cash - May and me, I mean. I've always liked photography, as a hobby."