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Peter Alkaev

"Oh, bother."

0 · 684 views · located in The Vigilante Village, Tennessee

a character in “The Vigilante Village”, as played by LaPatataPequeña




Ride | Twenty One Pilots
Unsteady | X Ambassadors

|{Full Name}|
Peter Kirill Alkaev
Пётр Кирилл Алкаев

Petra - a childhood nickname given to him by his brother Matvei
Angel - a childhood nickname given to him by his mother, though it's not in use anymore



Saint Petersburg, Russia

Peter likes to exaggerate his height, saying that he's 177cm instead of his true 172cm. It's almost amusing, really. Especially when he's called out on it and gets flustered because of his lie. Still, he's been told that he has a nice face, and the most complimented thing about him is his eyes. He doesn't understand why, though. Their just blue. His skin is rather pale and his face is dotted with freckles, and scars are scattered all across his body. His hair seems to have a wild mind of its own, and when he's alone with a mirror Peter often finds himself hating his uneven eyebrows.

Unlike his brother Matvei, Peter wasn't gifted with any interesting powers. In fact, he wasn't gifted with any at all. The only abnormal thing about him is his complete lack of decent grades and love of risking his life.

|{Hobbies || Talents}|
HOBBIES: jumping off things, collecting stamps/postcards/magnets, drinking
TALENTS: being the family disappointment

|{Fears || Weaknesses}|
FEAR: drowning, being in cars,
WEAKNESS: envy, anger, jealousy, self-destructive

destructive || reckless || daring || stubborn || intelligent

Who is Peter Alkaev? Well he's a mess, for one thing. Unlike his brother who's all straight lines, perfect edges, and fantastic hair, Peter is... messy. His lines are crooked and his edges are jagged, and Lord knows he cant keep his hair down for the life of him. Even more, Peter is horrendous at doing anything rationally. He doesn't think much before he turns his feelings into actions, and when he gets angry there's nearly nothing holding him back. If it weren't for Matvei, Peter would surely be in a lot more trouble than he's in now... which is it say, quite a lot.

Of course, every coin has two sides. Unfortunately, the second side doesn't differ much from the first. Even when he's calmed down and is less explosive, Peter has a habit of saying the wrong words or tripping up and doing the wrong things. He makes poor decisions, like going out and drinking the night away when he knows he has something important the next day, or skipping school to sleep at home even though he has a re-test scheduled. It doesn't help that his communication of his problems is basically nonexistent, either. Peter likes to bottle his troubles away and pretend that they don't exist.

|{History}| ImageImage


"Some people are born lucky" his mother, a shaky woman by the name of Valencia Alkaev, had said to Peter once. "And others are just unlucky to be born." She had shouted those words during a heated argument with him one night, and she had denied them afterwards, but Peter never forgot what she meant; He was just one of the others.

His bad luck started after his birth, though, when his father 'left to buy some cigarettes' and never came back. Peter hadn't been even a year old then, and his mother had been in a struggling position at her work, and after that night their lives seemed to only go downhill. Valencia, heart-broken and troubled, threw herself at whichever man happened to pay her any attention, and ended up landing with Jack, an American man who was only in the city for business. "I'll be here a year," he swore. "Only a year." but Valencia must have had an attraction for liars, because no more than three months and one pregnancy announcement later did Jack quietly exit the door during the night, and never returned in the morning.

Over the course of the next eleven years Valencia had countless relationships, and Peter tried to distract himself from them by burying himself in his schooling. His mother stuck to foreigners, mostly. Usually the ones that only spoke little or broken Russian. And then she'd get so attached to them that she'd fall into fits of depression whenever they'd inevitably leave. Peter hadn't even entered teendom birthday yet, but already he'd have 'stepped up' and acted as a parent for his younger brother, Matvei, more times than he could count during the days where Valencia neglected her job as their mother. He still remembers the nights where he'd sit on the floor of the kitchen with his math or science textbook on his lap and Matvei by his side, and them reading the material together.

A few months after Peter's twelfth birthday, Valencia entered what would be a long-term relationship with a man named Anton. He, Valencia had said, would make all their problems disappear. Their overdue rent, their piling bills, their lack of edible food in the fridge. At the time Peter had nearly believed her, but it took not even a full week of having Anton live with them for him to discover that his mother's words weren't true. For starters, he was flat out awful. He shouted, he swore, he brought a new pack of beer home every time he returned from work, and throughout the following hours he would drink every bottle. The small house they lived in reeked of his stench, but Valencia was blind to it. Her new, more stable job required her to work long hours, and for the majority of the time she wasn't home. But even when Peter and Matvei complained to her, she'd turn a blind eye. It was because Anton paid for them to live, Peter knew. Even if the living wasn't comfortable. Even if the living included them enduring Anton's abuse.

Over the next bunch of years many things happened, though unfortunately very few of them were any good. Peter and Anton were at ends constantly. Fighting, screaming, shoving the other out of the house. His focus on his education took a significant blow, and often Peter dared to pack his belongings and leave for weeks at a time, just to get away and breathe for awhile. His worry of what would happen to Matvei without him was always enough to bring him back, though. It wasn't, however, enough to stop him from being reckless. In short, Peter was unlucky to begin with and stupid for the rest. He was sorted into the wrong social circle early, mostly due to his obviously poor home life, and quickly he was swooped up and chosen as the king of horrible decisions. He could come home completely wasted and his mother wouldn't care, and Anton would only yell at him like he always would. He was quick to turn his actions in to a game of how far he could go before someone would try to stop him.

He never came across a limit.

1. The saddest thing about Peter, and the reason for him being at the camp, is that he really isn't a dumb person. He's a natural at learning and absorbing information, and hell, sometimes he even finds it fun. The days where he showed up for class were the best ones, his teachers had said, because if there was one kid they knew for sure could go big places, it was him.

2. Peter has an intense fear of drowning, and often has nightmares of it. He only feels safe in water when it's clear, but that doesn't stop him from diving into the lake. What can he say, he gets a thrill out of being afraid.

|{Face Claim}
Tom Webb

Character Dialogue || #527A55

So begins...

Peter Alkaev's Story

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Khufu Nemesokar Character Portrait: Perdita Winkler Character Portrait: Nike ReMere Character Portrait: Kennedy MacClaire Character Portrait: Sara Castitas Character Portrait: Alexa Toretti
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{ Day 1 ~ Orientation }



The silver car decreased its speed once it came to the sandy, decrepit parking lot of the campsite. A rustic country fence separated the far-off cabins from the clearing, and the rolling Smoky Mountains of Tennessee were looming overhead like watchtowers. The sky was blue, cloudless, and welcoming. Everything was calm and quiet.

The golden-haired girl turned off the radio as she leaned towards the side window next to the passenger’s seat. She placed a hand on the glass, her eyelashes flitting faster than the wings of dragonflies as she processed the colors, the textures, and the sounds.
Joel stopped the car in front of the fence and turned off the engine.

“Well this is it,” he said after a few moments of silence. “You’re finally here. You made it.”

She gazed out the front window, her hands tugging at the bottom of her simple white v-neck. Her eyes darted around in their sockets, taking in the last of the scenery.

“There’s no one here,” she muttered.

“That’s because I had to get here early in order to help with the orientation,” he replied. “Just wait a couple of minutes, and this entire camp is going to be packed. Trust me.”

She shifted in her seat a little, uncrossing her legs and tightening her grip upon the pink crystal in her hands. It was her good luck charm, but he didn’t know that.

He placed a hand on her knee. “You nervous, Perry?”

She sucked on her lower lip. “A little, yeah,” she said with stiffened breath.

“Don’t be. You’ll get along just fine here,” he reassured her for the tenth time. “You’ll make friends and as soon as you know it, this place will become your second home. That’s what happened to me. That’s what’s happened to every single person who’s come here. You think I’m crazy now, but just you wait, Little Miss Perriwinkle.”

Giggling a bit, she turned her head to face his beaming visage. For a moment, he almost looked her age.

Jumping out of her seat, she wrapped her arms around him, and he did the same. In those few seconds, they were as inseparable as conjoined twins. They shared the same blood, the same heart, and the same mind, and although they were seven years apart, they practically shared a soul.

“Thank you, Joel Stone,” she muttered, almost feeling tears behind her eyes. “Thank you for everything.”

Their arms still around each other, he patted her on the back, his eyes gently closed. “No problem,” he said. “I figured you needed this. I’m sure you need this…”

Finally, they both released their grips on one another, and began to gather their things. She put the pink gemstone in her pocket, while he popped out the Led Zeppelin album from the CD player and put it back in its case.

She opened the door, and could feel the intensity of the fresh country air waft into her nose and beat against her alabaster skin. Joel opened the trunk, and quickly, the two of them grabbed their suitcases. Once they had everything, he locked the car, and led her through the gateway; two wooden planks with a sign on top that read VIGILANTE VILLAGE – EST. 1986. The letters were composed of white hemp cords that looked as though they would never fade away despite their years in the rotting summer sun.

Cabins and wooden huts that looked as though the Cherokee had built them circled around the man and girl as though they were in the middle of some ancient European square. He led her to a bulletin board near a large flagpole. There were two banners waving at the top. The first, obviously, was the American flag. The second was colored a light blue and contained a decorative crest composed of steel, seven stars, and a shield.

“That’s the flag for the W.A.O.H.: the World Association of Official Heroes,” Joel said once he noticed that her head was trained upwards. “They’re the ones who provide the funding for this place.”

He pointed to a paper on the bulletin board, which was green and had a bunch of slots for people to write their names in.

“When you find a place you want to room in, just remember to come back here and write the number of your cabin, and then your full name.”

“Okay,” she said. “Don’t know if I’ll remember that, but I’ll do it.”

He nodded, and their eyes locked. The caramel highlights within Joel’s dark hair glinted like gunmetal in the shimmering sun.

“Alright, Perriwinkle…this is where I leave you. Unfortunately, I have important matters to attend to.”

She snorted. “Important my ass!” she teased. “It’s not like you’re in the Bronx chasing after crooks and shooting up drug lords. You can unwind, y’know. We’re in the South now.”

She had said her last sentence in a drawl that partially mimicked his. He laughed and placed both of his hands on her shoulders.

“You’ll understand someday…when you’re in the same position as me and mentoring some little spunky girl with wind powers.”

She snorted again. “That’s a stupid thing to do! Why would I ever do that!”

They hugged again, although not as tightly as before.

“I’ll see you later, Perriwinkle,” he said before quickly disappearing into the dust.

The girl tightened her grip on her suitcase, twirled her lucky stone around in her denim pocket, and without delay, chose a path.

Every so often, she would look left and right, making sure that nobody was following her or that there were no ghosts around to haunt her or anything. Eventually, she found a cozy-looking cabin situated just underneath a large basswood tree. There was a small plaque on the door that had the number ’12’ nailed upon it with wooden planks. Since ‘12’ was a lucky number of hers, she took it as a sign to go in.

The creaky door slammed behind her, and the smell of pine wafted into her nose. The temperature was surprisingly cool and comfortable, and there was quite a lot of light. She smiled at the sights of the sofa, coffee table, and full-size refrigerator behind the island counter near the backmost wall. This wasn’t your regular, crappy, mosquito-infested cabin that she had read about in children’s books.

She groaned when she saw the sight of the ladder leading upstairs to the beds. Still, it wasn’t a skin off her back. Tightly grabbing onto the handle of her rolling suitcase, she propelled herself into the air with a large blast of wind, and gently floated down like a dandelion seed until her feet reached the second floor. With all her strength, she lifted her suitcase up upon the edge of the farthest bed, and curled her body onto the remaining part of the mattress.

This was it. This was the first time she would be in a place of social interaction with kids her age. It was tragic to think about, but it was happening and she was scared and excited and at the same time, contemplating why she was alive.

It would be an adventure far more entertaining than the ones she had created on the streets of New York.

Hearing sounds coming from outside, Perry lifted herself off the bed and scurried to the nearest window. She watched the teens her age pass by with wide eyes. She wanted to greet them, but at the same time, felt like a queen safe inside her castle tower. So in that moment, she decided to stay inside. Perhaps she didn’t need to go up to them. Perhaps they would come to her…



After leaving Perdita, Joel put both of his hands inside his jean pockets and sauntered towards the staff cabin. He had important matters on his mind, but at the same time, hoped he would be able to fool around with old friends and meet some of the new staff that had been hired during the spring.

Once he came to the large cabin that almost looked three-stories high in length, he produced a pair of silver keys, twisted them through the lock, and walked inside.

It was dark, meaning that no other staff members besides him had been inside the building yet. However, that still didn’t mean that Clover Collins, the lascivious woman in charge of the Vigilante Village, wasn’t inside her office.

He came to her quarters and knocked on the door, which was about a quarter of the way open.

“Clover?” he called. “It’s me, Joel. Are you in here?”

He pushed upon the knob a bit and realized that there was nobody home despite the fact that the lights were turned on.

Right away, he noticed the envelope upon her desk that had his name written on it in bright red letters. He strode into the room, which smelled heavily of lipstick and jade incense, took the envelope between his hands, tore it open, and read the letter inside…

Dear Joel (or if you’re not Joel, which I doubt you are, whoever may be reading this),

I am currently away in Georgia dealing with some important, confidential matters that are of no importance to you or anyone else. While I am gone, I ask that you take care of the camp for me in my absence. God knows how little I do for this godforsaken place anyways. You folks practically keep the site in one piece. Make the kiddies happy and entertain them as best you can. I’ll be back in a day or less. (Hopefully…)

XOXO and a lick or two,

Clover Collins

He folded it and placed the letter, as well as the envelope, back upon her desk. He raised a brow. Important matters? The vagueness of it all planted a seed of suspicion inside his head. Clover Collins was not a woman to trust easily. It was no secret that she had been a cold-blooded killer in her past life; working with a band of deadly assassins who had occasionally affiliated themselves with the mafia. Yet, somehow, she was let off the hook and eventually elected the leader of the Vigilante Village. She was charming, headstrong, and down-to-earth, but certainly not clear. Her motives were unreadable. Her true opinions, well…those were things that only the good gods above knew.

And yet she depended on him. She let him know what was going on, despite the fact that they hardly ever talked. Still, there was a tone she used whenever she talked to him that never failed to place tension in the air. She used charismatic words and gestures whenever she saw him, yet at the same time, her cat-eyes always glared at his with malicious irises that just screamed distrust. She didn’t like him. He knew it. He didn’t care why she didn’t like him, but at the same time, he wanted to know why…

Snapping out of his thoughts, Joel searched through the drawers of her desk until he found a green clipboard and a ballpoint pen. He grabbed a couple of the papers from inside the filing cabinet in the back of the room, and headed back outside, where he sat upon the front porch steps of the staff cabin.

The papers he had attained from Clover’s office had the names of the campers on them, their powers, ages, hometowns, and physical descriptions. There were even a few pictures next to the names of teenagers who had attended the camp in previous years. Relaxed and sturdy, Joel clicked the pen and languidly watched the kids enter the Village. As he checked off the names of the young adults who arrived, he finally had the feeling that this summer would be a great one.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Khufu Nemesokar Character Portrait: Perdita Winkler Character Portrait: Nike ReMere Character Portrait: Kennedy MacClaire Character Portrait: Sara Castitas Character Portrait: Alexa Toretti
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Sara watched as the trees whisked past. Majestic boughs stretched over her, casting dappled shadows that fell behind her as she ran. The battleaxe and twin hammers strapped to her back and thighs, respectively, gave her incredible stamina. She smiled and leapt agilely over a fallen log, the knives inside her robotic leg lending her speed and and adding height to her jumps. Sara slowed and her power core hummed and glowed as she caught her breath.

Feeling her semi-machine lungs expand to accommodate more oxygen, she sighed contentedly as she gazed at the wooden signs with the familiar words emblazoned in white- VIGILANTE VILLAGE – EST. 1986. Smiling and readjusting the bag on her back, Sara walked into camp.

She wandered around, weaving contentedly between the cabins she remembered so fondly. She briefly contemplated how many of her old friends would be gone.

Sara sighed and headed towards her favorite place in the entire camp- the arena. She couldn't wait to train, and with her new armory of this year, she was well prepared to kick some serious butt. She walked into the ring, drawing a scimitar and throwing down a small doubloon-looking coin. The coin shimmered and started to billow out in gold clouds that looked quite a bit like cotton candy. Sara tapped into her machine, enabling her aimbot and damage meters. The golden pirate that had emerged from the tiny coin lit up in colors, much like a heat detector.

Sara grinned- she'd been training with this small device almost all year, and it knew her style. A real challenger to her battle skills. She watched her opponent's color readings closely for indication of an opening. They circled, and with a quick feint and roll to the side from the cyborg, the battle was on.

The golden warrior leapt back, his agility and ability matching hers. Sara held her scimitar towards the pirate, and as expected, he attempted to disarm her by slicing at her wrists. She drew up the blade almost instantaneously, deflecting her opponent's blade and flicking it to the ground, immediately seizing his openings and stabbing down where his unguarded arms were.

He leapt backwards into the air, his agility enhanced as he did a flip. "Just like something I'd do," Sara muttered to herself. "I'm such a show-off." She swept as his ankles as he landed, slicing his left foot clean off and the right severely maimed. The pirate hobbled towards her, his speed and agility decreased but still retaining his brute strength. She exchanged a flurry of parries and thrusts with the warrior, eventually chipping off his fingers and a large chunk of his abdomen. He seemed to be behind today.

Landing a few more lucky hits, the pirate eventually sputtered to a stop, and Sara drew a small handgun and shot him in between the eyes. The pirate shattered into golden shards of glass, which shivered and flew up into the air, meshing and landing in Sara's palm as a coin once again. She exited the arena, her adrenaline and excitement for the new year pumping. She rubbed her warm power core in between her shoulder blades, and meandered towards a large tree where she leapt vertically into its welcoming boughs. She sat, dangling her feet- one metal and one flesh- over the edge of the thick limb. She watched the entrance, noticing campers begin to wander in.

Feeling her power core finally cooling down, she set her path in a beeline to her cabin of last year- Cabin Twelve, under the basswood tree. She pushed the door open hesitantly, listening for sounds and emotion. She sensed a feeling of brief wonder from upstairs.

Shrugging, Sara walked into the huge living room, swiftly scaling the ladder with silent footsteps. Slinging her bag down again onto a bed with no regard to the assorted deadly weapons and bombs contained inside, she quietly approached the girl.

"Hello! I'm Sara. Second year here at the Village. What's your name?" She offered a friendly hand to the girl, who had a seemingly innocent face and wide, doe-like eyes. Sara smiled- this girl was a whirlwind of emotion that she had no care to decipher.

The cyborg girl only knew that this new camper held adventure and memories-to-be in store, along with everyone new this year.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Perdita Winkler Character Portrait: Sara Castitas Character Portrait: Peter Alkaev Character Portrait: Matt Alkaev Character Portrait: Mihyo Yoo Character Portrait:
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|{ American Authors | Hit It }|
"I say if you don't know, then you go slow."

Nike had been drawing for the past two hours in the back seat of her moms mini van right before she got sick and well- barfed. Now she was listening to music now, already passed the American border an hour ago, she knew driving to the camp took awhile, but this year felt like forever. She looked around outside, and saw trees, crops, small farm houses. Nike found that oddly comforting as her mom and dad talked in the front seat, unaware of their daughter staring out the window like a teenaged hipster. Nike always thought her parents were so cute together, both of them smiling- laughing at each other. They always had time to make fun of each other, and Nike smiled at the fact that they both pointed out flaws but accepted them. Nike shuddered when she remember that one memory of them arguing, right when she was a new born, over the fact when the doctor told them about Nike's power.

Nike turned on some Twenty One Pilots as she tried knocking that memory out. She tried thinking of camp as she did, and let out a happy sigh, all those happy thoughts flooding in made her feel warm, and then she remembered Matt. Yeah Matt. Nike had developed just a small crush on him last year, but being separated from him over the school year made her want to cry. He was like her other half. He really understood her in a way no one else did. His bleach blonde hair, and gorgeous smile flooded into her mind as she shook her head and blushed. Hopefully she'll be able to meet him today. The one thing she remembers most about camp is cliff jumping. And yeah into water. Her and Peter would always jump in, and Nike would always have to pull Peter out of the water when he froze up. She chuckled at the thought, and then watched her dad turn around. "Hey Kiddo." He said, while Nike turned her music off, and took off her headphones.

"Yeah Dad?" Nike mumbled, her voice happy, but a slight darkness hidden within it. "Me and your mom want you to enjoy your summer here ok? We'll miss you, but promise us one thing-" As he stopped he looked at Nike's mom exchanged a look, then placed his hand within hers and while fingers joined together. "Don't do anything.. Dangerous. You remember how scared we were last time you pulled.. Something like that off." He said, while tears formed in Nike's eye. "Nike he had to say it.. Were sorry ok?" Her mom said, without taking her eyes off the road. "Yeah.. It's ok. Just don't bring it up again." Nike muttered, a lump in her throat.

Soon they pulled up to the camp and Nike stepped out of the car, staring at the flag for a second and smiling. She looked at her mom, and dad and they got out and hugged her. In unison they both said "love you" and hugged and kissed her. Nike nodded and grabbed her bags and backpack while she walked away, watching her mom and dad drive away. She got registered, and hiked up and away to her cabin, hearing chatting inside already. She stumbled in and threw her bags on a bottom bunk, far enough away from all the other girls. She was now situated in cabin 12. This was her home now.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Peter Alkaev Character Portrait: Matt Alkaev Character Portrait: Character Portrait: Character Portrait: Character Portrait:
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Matt's eyes drifted in and out of focus as he lazily watched the trees zip by in a blur. Normally he'd chide his brother for his disregard of speed limits, and he'd remind him of how recently he had gotten his license and how easy it was to crash, but this time he didn't bother. He too tired to argue, and Peter was just excited. Peter was also just a bad driver.

Matt found himself wondering for not the first time why he hadn't been more persistent about taking the bus.

Three sharp turns and one uneasy stomach later, Matt squeezed his eyes shut and regretted his decision. "You're going to get a ticket." he groaned, clutching on to the door handle. He took in a deep breath, then opened his eyes slowly and shot a sideways glance at his brother. He was sweating. Of course, Matt thought, frowning. "Either that or you're going to skid off the road."

Peter's focus on the road was unswayed. "Shut up."
he said, his voice tight. Matt doubted that he had even heard him.

With a scowl on his face, Matt strained his neck to see the speedometer, and with a stern look of disapproval he glared at his brother. "At least ease off the petal a bit, will you?"

Peter's eye glanced down, and with careful carelessness he brought the car to the proper speed limit. Matt glanced out the window, sighing in relief when he saw that the trees were no longer blurring together like they had before. At least if they crashed now, they wouldn't go flying through the windshield. "Sorry,"
Peter muttered, sounding more at ease now. "I'm just..." he paused, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. His eyes glanced up to the rear-view mirror for a short second before going intently back to the road. "You know."

Matt didn't, and sometimes he wondered if Peter didn't, either. "You know," he'd always say, but he'd never make any move to explain. Maybe he was just dumb and figured that Matt had mind-reading powers as well as his weather ones. Whatever it was, Matt found it easier to make a guess rather than try to beat Peter's feelings out of him.

"Nervous?" he asked. Peter shrugged.

"Sort of."


"I dunno."

Oh, Matt thought, leaning back in his seat. He'd had hoped that after spending three years straight by his brothers side he'd learned how to read him, but brotherly bonding was harder than he thought. It was moments like these where Matt wished that he really did have those mind-reading powers. They would have made things a lot easier. "You know, I'm sort of nervous, too." he lied. That seemed like a good start.

Peter glanced at him. "Oh yeah? Why?" Matt shrugged.

"It's just, like..." Matt paused. He hadn't thought of what he was going to say. "Who's gonna be at camp this year, what cabin I'm gonna be in, who I'm gonna get stuck with."

Peter laughed. "That's what you worry about in your spare time? Who your buddies are gonna be? God, Matvei."

Matt furrowed his eyebrows. "What?" he demanded, somewhat offended. "What's wrong with that? What am I supposed to be worrying about?"

Peter laughed again and shook his head. "Nothing, nothing." he said easily. He gave the steering wheel a turn, and Matt looked out the window to see that he realized where they were.



Peter wondered if he'd ever not feel like the world was spinning around him whenever he drove. From a reasonable perspective, driving while feeling such a way was an awful thing to do, but so was the alternative of riding in a bus for two days and stopping at every stop imaginable. At least this way Peter could feel awful and have a fun road-trip at the same time.

"Get out,"
he said to Matvei, leaning over and opening the door for him. "Go find your buddies."

Matt unbuckled his seat belt and frowned when Peter didn't. "You could, you know, come with me."

Peter shook his head, declining. "I'm gonna sit in here for a bit," he said, then added when Matt gave him a look that resembled a mixture of concern and frustration. "I'll catch up! I'm not going anywhere." he promised. Matvei shook his head before hesitantly climbing out of the car, then he swung the door shut behind him as he headed in to camp. Peter slouched in his seat and sighed. He wasn't ready to go out yet. His stomach still felt like it was two bad moves away from making him hurl.

His eyes drifted upwards to the rear-view mirror, where he could see his jacket resting in the back seat. Don't, he thought, chewing at his bottom lip. Don't. But he was already unbuckling his seat belt and turning around to move the jacket out of the way, which then revealed the bottle of Smirnoff he had been smart to hide. He would have never heard the end of it if Matvei had seen it. Peter grabbed the bottle and temporarily put it on the passengers seat, then he opened the glove compartment and pulled out a green water bottle that was unfortunate to have a Mickey Mouse sticker stuck to it. He had probably bought it from the dollar store.

Don't, he thought again, but it didn't stop him from transferring some of the Smirnoff from the original bottle to the Mickey Mouse one. He sighed, closed the cap, then put the bottle back under his jacket and opened the door. He wouldn't come back to get it. He wouldn't.

"Matt!" Peter called, making sure to lock the car before he went to follow after his brother.