I really missed watching you two write together, ahhhh, such nostalgia rush.
— Word of advice, don’t offer excuses to people who didn’t ask for them. You could’ve said thank you and left. And a better excuse would be a mugger, or an addict— Even if addicts aren’t that violent on the whole, people tend to believe that.
Isn’t it just a little bit shady to be giving teenagers advice on how to lie? Could get the Mothers Coalition of America after you for things like that, buddy.
[ Keep it in, Petey. You’re not hiding behind a mask, and this your elder you’re running mouth off too. Just because you have the quips tucked into the corner of your lips doesn’t mean you need to use them.
This isn’t a fight. ]
'Sides, this is New York, anything's believable.
[He can smell the sweat and blood so well he can tell where he’s been cut. A hint of nervousness, of anxiety, too. Because even if he’s blending in as a normal citizen, he’s one of the most dangerous men in the universe.]
— No, I’m new here. But there’s a small clinic three blocks from here, if you want to tend to that wound. Nonprofit. They don’t ask many questions.
[He talks casually, as if he could tell the boy’s injuries from a simple glance, or as if he saw people bleeding everyday.
Which he did, sometimes.]
[ Murphy’s law, his life is dictated by the rule of Murphy’s Law he swears to god. ]
That? Oh, uhm, that’s nothing I just…Y’know.
[ Think. ]
Like I mean, you know how it is with the like, uhm…You know, like the uhm, those like… Hobos.
They’re pretty brutal. [ They’re not. ] —I’m sorry, that was stupid, it’s uhm actually something from earlier today I skateboarding and I just, yeah….
Anyway, I’m fine it’s just, like, a scratch. I’ve had a lot worse.
[ Well the last part was true anyway. ]
A porn blog just followed me.
[ You know what’s really hard? Trying to look like a normal teenaged hooligan wondering New York City streets when you’re nursing a limp and you can feel bits of blood seeping through spandex, which means that soon it’s gonna show on your pants.
Well, it’s hard for Peter anyway. When you come up with lies so creative as “Oh I fell” and “I was just washing my American flag”, you don’t typically want to get questioned about this stuff. So if he seems a bit frazzled, it’s because he really is.
Not to mention the fact that the sweat and heat from his latest encounter is waning away and leaving him with a chill that adds misery to injury. He’s had worse but he still doesn’t want to walk(or swing) home tonight. ]
Uhm, excuse me sir, do you know the bus schedule?
[ It’s a light, soft tone because Peter doesn’t want to bother anyone, furthermore he doesn’t want to really be noticed. So he’s just going to shove his hands in his jacket pockets and roll his shoulders in to look as small as possible as he waits for the response. ]
Even before the bite Peter was never really someone who could sit still. He was a fidgety child, shy with insecurities and hyperactive with curiosity. Whether he was wringing his hands nervously while trying to communicate or bouncing from foot to foot with excitement as a rush of knowledge swept over him, he had always been in perpetual motion.
The bite intensified everything.
What had before been subconscious and psychological was now also instinctual. There was a new rhythm in his DNA. A constant driving force that guided his motions while simultaneously giving him an unparalleled freedom that only being airborne for those few precious seconds could provide. It was calculations, physics, the science that was so dear and natural to him, but it was also instinct.
Things like not crashing into the side of buildings, landing with minimal destruction to the environment, and knowing the range of webshooters had taken work. Things such as form, direction, speed, and swinging did not.
The powers, combined with the anonymous nature of the suit, that euphoric feeling of just being someone other than that nervous kid he was before, that fragile nerd who got shoved in lockers and bullied endlessly… He finally felt invincible.
He finally felt free.
There was a new confidence to his movements, a new sense of purpose as long limbs that had been curled up an entire lifetime with fear and doubt finally stretched out and worked, a new weightlessness as an old life seemed to disappear behind a mask and a suit to make way for a new being. A new him.
It had been easy to get cocky. It had been so easy to leave his ordinary life behind and escape into his alternate self, to forget everything that was inherently attached to Peter Parker, to be Spider-man.
But responsibility is an anchor and chain, and when the chain loses give the anchor weighs.
It had all happened so quick, one minute he was liberated, and the next everything was going so wrong. The revelations came one after another, each one paired with a new crushing wave of guilt. It was his responsibility to catch Uncle Ben’s killer, it was his responsibility to protect the city, it was his responsibility to put Gwen’s safety before his own feelings, it was his responsibility to keep his identity secret. After all it had been his fault Uncle Ben died, his fault Dr. Connors became a monster, his fault Gwen’s father died, his fault Aunt May was up every night crying when she thought he couldn’t hear.
It was his responsibility to use his power not for freedom or personal gain, but for the good of the city. To protect those that couldn’t protect themselves.
The feeling of freedom ebbed and waned as the tide rolled in, and Peter felt like he was struggling not to go under. Life had turned into a continual barrage of waves that washing over him while he gasped for air and worked desperately to keep his head above water. There’d turn there’d be a new villain, a new loss, a new failure, a new injury, a new wave. He was still Peter Parker, but now he was also Spider-man too, and the dual lives weighed heavily on his shoulders.
But no matter what he still had this, these few moments of absolute freedom and weightlessness. Gliding through the air and over his city, catapulting himself off the top of the highest skyscraper and into the sky—
These perfect moments of peace before the next fall.
It was enough to keep moving for.
[ You know who’s having a bad day? Peter Parker is having a bad day. Responsibility is a bitch of a heartless bitch, especially when you have a lot of it. On top of maintaining the public safety of a city Peter has to balance his academic life as well, especially when he’s going on scholarships.
Which is why rushing through a quiz in physics lab so that he can rush out and stop a crime being committed is a bit tough, and tiring, and right now he can only sigh loudly and try to push the impending failure of his quiz to the back of his head. ]
Can I help you with somethin’?
wakethesinner started following you