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[Ah yes, the telltale tingle that goes up his spine and drops his stomach.

Despite being mid-turn toward the alleyway, Peter's head immediately snaps to the side, avoiding her fist fully.]

Hey!

Juuuuuuuust keeping you honest. How did you even do that?

(Also, that was cool. God, fighting him must be a nightmare, which sounds ridiculously fun if it weren't, you know, Peter. Why does it have to be Peter!!!

And she was almost going into the alley, before she remembers why exactly is he going there in the first place. Right, yeah, no. She'll wait far from it, thank you so much.)

[As he vanishes into the alley:]

I don't really know how it works...! When I first got bit, I just thought it was anxiety. And maybe it is, you know? some kind of weird, precognitive anxiety. I just know when things are shooting at me or sneaking up on me or about to blow me into little pieces. Usually, anyway.

[Someday he'll get the hang of not having a school bag full of Spider-Man onesies, huh? Today is not that day, as he bumbles around in said bag to start pulling his uniform on. A shoe goes flying on accident over one of the trashcans.]

Whoops!

[When he pops his head out to look at her, Spider-Man says:]

It's never good when the other shoe drops.

[ugh]

(Her back leans against the wall outside the alley, looking forward, but she's not great at sitting and waiting. Her hand reaches for her pistol, some flairs, twists, just so she has something to do while he is there putting that ONESIE. God, the shit she accepts for him. He'd better appreciate it.)

That's not fair. I'm shooty and bomb-y, I just don't sneak up. You'd know I'm there. How is this a fair trade?

(Which, probably correct, knowing how much she doodles around and her little stunt at the train.

The mask always startles her a bit when she first sees it, so she jumps before she squints. It's just Peter, but also!!! UGH.)

Wait. You actually don't wear shoes with it, how do you live? How do you still have functioning feet?

(Because Etraya and New York are not Zaun, Jinx.......)

(At this rate, Jinx spends no effort to climb to Peter's window. It's muscle memory, and she opens it with no issues, he probably expects it? She hopes, anyway. He's... Asleep? So late? Strange, but no biggie, because she has new blueprints for his web bombs, and she sits on his bed with it spread out on her lap.)

Peter, wake up. I think we got a breakthrough — maybe, with some chemtech here and there, we can actually make this work with the stuff we salvaged from the junkyard. Come on, we got stuff.

They are shoes. Kinda... I mean, they're a little thin in the sole I guess...

[Oh. He holds up a finger.]

Actually! A few years back, I got one of those weird spidey tingles when I was running down an alleyway — which I thought was super weird, because I didn't see any actual danger anywhere? Turns out, it was a nail, and I totally ended up stepping on it anyway.

I spent all night worrying if I would heal fast from tetanus.

[Peter had only gotten about an hour into his morning before he realized what day it was. He'd been in the middle of pouring a bowl of cereal (something so sugary, it'd give you a cavity per bite) when the sight of a cheap calendar on the side of his fridge hits him like a truck.

May 5th. The date strangles him with both hands, relieves him of his willingness to face the day and enjoy his life. It's the first time he's had to face her birthday since she'd passed, but how do you face something that immediately surrounds you on all sides? And how does something you've thought about every day still manage to shellshock you into silence? How old would she be today?

Maybe just not think about it. Maybe only sleep about it.

It's a lot to think about right this second.

So. He's gonna sleep. That's what he's gonna do. Sleep until it's May 6th.

He crawls into bed, and time passes for everyone but him as he stares at the wall and waits for his mind to be tricked into another 18 hours of slumber. Somewhere in that timeless mess of over-thinking and sad visitations to happy memories and the mistakes that reshaped them, he hears someone come into his window. No spidey-sense goes off, and Jinx is talking, so it's probably fine.

He pulls the blanket over his head as she talks at her blueprints.

With a concerningly flat affect and lack of energy:]

Sorry. Sick day today... I think I got the flu.

(That's not Peter behavior, and she knows he heals faster, he cannot bullshit her with an excuse as bad as the flu for a man whose immune system is stronger than anything she's seen. Something is wrong, and the blueprints are the last of her worries with how sad he sounds.

The paper goes flying, unimportant, before she removes her boots and throws them... Also somewhere. If she's going to be here, she's at least not going to dirty up his bed, and very uncharacteristically gently, her hand moves to feel his forehead.

Not fever hot.)

Don't lie to me, I hate lying.

(But it's not a warning as strong as it sounds, it's... A request, as she pulls the blanket over herself too, over her head as she lies down so both of them are under it.)

I'm here, what's wrong?

Edited 2025-04-28 22:43 (UTC)

... Being sad counts as a sickness sometimes, doesn't it?

So it's not, like. A complete lie.

[In normal situations, Peter would be a little flabbergasted or embarrassed by the idea of someone worming into his bed. Or at the very least, he'd be kind of mortified by the idea of someone seeing him like this? Here in the dimness of the blanket's coverage, he looks back at her with unkept hair and a tired frown, and eyes that threaten to shine with emotions that he doesn't want to actually face. If he'd just convinced his mind to sleep... if he'd just been able to close his eyes and forget, at least for a little while...]

It's her birthday today.

[Only, there's no one alive to celebrate. Is this what it's gonna be? Getting sad on her birthday, then getting sadder on her death day? He can't stand the thought of it, or even find comfort in the idea that it'll slowly get easier.]

Edited 2025-04-30 20:20 (UTC)

(Why does he manage to break her heart so much? A damn Enforcer, and not even a real one at that. Why does she care so much, and why does seeing Peter ever-shining smile wither makes her stomach drop? Perhaps it's not the best hand to do this with, her cold mechanical finger along with the others moving some hair away from his face, thumb attempting to dry any remaining tears that he might have drying on his skin.

She's been through this. Mom, Dad, Vander, Silco. Grief is a strange phenomena in the undercity, they don't get much to mourn. Her idea of mourning is yelling at Silco's chair, avoiding going to the basement of the Last Drop, and wallowing in her own mind. It's no prettier than this. It's destructive, most of the time.

This... She can deal with, probably.)

... Then I'm staying here, until tomorrow.

... Sheesh, you'd need a metal sole on that if you ever wanted to Spider-Zaun. How fast do you heal, anyway? My finger is not even 100% and that's been months now.

(But she finally gets it. His brain and body process his environment faster than he does himself, that's why he can dodge and he can sense things he hasn't made the conscious connection to anyway. Now, what amount of stimuli it can pick up, she's not sure.

Good to know.)

Though I don't think you'd survive in Zaun, or if anything, your 'weirdo spidey tingles' would be the most obnoxious alarm in all of existence.

[At her words, Peter's exhausted stare immediately brightens with surprised uncertainty. What she offers is something he would have happily offered if the tables were turned, of course, but — he's much more unkind to himself. So it doesn't count.]

No, that's — You don't have to do that. I'm literally the worst company right now, and you're gonna just be wasting a whole day you could be doing anything else.

[Does he think he's going to genuinely convince her to do anything else now that she'd seemingly made up her mind? Not necessarily. But maybe miracles really do happen!]

[He huffs.]

'Weirdo' is a little unnecessary. But yeah, it can be kinda obnoxious.

You really think I wouldn't make it in Zaun? Even if I become a parkour champion?

[He holds out a hand for her to grab, so he can zip them through the air.]

(She's as surprised as he is, but mostly with how he went from moping to somewhat alive again. The concern slowly morphs into a similar shine on her look, and she doesn't know how to express her relief other than a roll of her eyes. Close is distant, distant is close, all that.)

It's my day, and I choose what I think of the company. Can I stay?

(Please.)

That means you can just move through the levels, and maybe, maybe, get less mugged at, shot at, robbed at, solicited at, or dead at. Fun place. You found me, Silco, now you just gotta meet Sevika, Vander and Viktor, and you get a full picture of the Zaunite dream.

(She works best (worst?) when there's no time to think, or when she has already made a decision. It'd be much better if he just didn't make her think about taking the hand!!! There's just a tiny hesitance she can't explain, her hand pulling away, halfway towards his for a smidge of a second before she holds it.)

[He stares back at her for a moment, as if she'll inevitably bend to the whim of his big sad brown eyes. But then, a sigh of surrender. She's victorious, no words needed there.]

Then... we probably shouldn't lay in bed all day.

That'd be — a bummer.

[He has the paints Aurora gave him? Maybe painting instead...]

[He doesn't hesitate to take her hand, pulling her in and thwipping a web to clutch onto the nearest infrastructure. Just like that, they're air-bound! He has to talk a little louder over the whipping of the wind around them:]

Oh! I met Vander before! He was pretty cool. We talked a little bit about your world...!

Sevika is the one that mean-mugs the camera, right?

The tall lady who looks like she could bench press a few of me?

I'm not gonna complain.

(Although they probably know she'd get restless really quick.

That said, whatever he wants to do, she's with him.)

We're resurfacing?

(As swift and elevated as they are when they're up in the air, it never really scared Jinx. She doesn't scream, there's never any part of her that is skittish about it. Some of it is trust, understanding Peter wouldn't drop her, and the other part is how fun it is to feel the sunshine and breeze on her hair, the sights, and the freedom it provides.

Her arm wraps around his shoulders for extra steadiness, eyes watching down before they— oh, so Vander knows Peter. He doesn't know they're friends, or else he wouldn't be asking her all the time who is it that she's been hanging out with.)

You did? What did he tell you?

(But, as for Sevika.)

Her face is just stuck like that, you kinda get used to it.

[Jinx sitting in one place all day does sound like some kind of punishment crafted specifically for her. Not that Peter is usually much better... but... y'know. Depression Day. With a slight nod:]

Resurfacing, captain.

[He pops his head out of the top of the covers, then pushes himself up on his elbows, tugging the blanket around his head until he looks like a little Russian lady selling beets on the corner. The sun attempts to shine at him through the window and he hunkers down deeper like a snail.]

Ugh. I forgot the sun exists.

Edited 2025-05-09 06:50 (UTC)

Aye.

(Yeah, but the shit she would do for him, you know? She'd fail spectacularly, but she'd be willing. With determination, she nods before she also comes out of the blankets, which doesn't matter much because he made a little silly cape with it.

The complaint is heard, chuckled at and she jumps off the bed to close the curtains. Once that is done, her hands go to her hips as she takes the room around her.)

That sounds like regret-hangover talk. Did you drink, Pete? Can you even have a hangover?

(She also assumes he hasn't eaten, so she's sighing a little, moving to his fridge to see what she can salvage from there.)

[Peter considers the conversation he'd had with Vander, as he lands them on top of the apartments for a moment, then leaping and zipping them over a long length of street before his feet find the sidewalk; sorry, Jinx was in full bridal carry mode for a few seconds there!]

I was in the middle of feeling bad about the train riots, and he told me it was his job to worry about me. Being young, and all. [He's an adult, though, so people really shouldn't worry too much about him! He's totally got this. Speaking of, he says more sheepishly:] He miiight know I'm Spider-Man. He didn't exactly say it outright, but he saw me use my webs while I was in civilian clothes...

(She's always getting maneuvered, but you know, although it brings some flush to her face, this is fine. It's the adrenaline, certainly nothing more. This also always makes her braids a little messy, from all the wind and the moving — small price to pay for the fun of it.

Her fingers start removing the golden locks, sticking them in her pocket as she listens to the tales of Spider-Man and Vander, attempting to undo one of the braids. It's fine, it takes her like, just half an hour to get it back done.)

Classic Vander. He'd definitely not care if you're super durable, or if you got Shimmer or Spider-DNA.

(Oh, he might know it for sure. Oops, Peter. OOPS.)

If you ask him to zip it, he'll zip it. That man holds all the secrets of Zaun, he was a bartender, so what is one more in the forbidden sea of secrecy?

[Peter doesn't abandon his blanket. Instead, he waddles after her with his new bed-themed shawl over his head.]

... Drink? Like, alcoholic beverages?

I'm not legally old enough to drink.

That's a thing? Very funny, I almost fell for that one, but I'm taking it as a 'no'.

(Lawless Land, Zaun. She'd be surprised.

Either way, she feeds an Isha, how fucking hard is it to feed a Peter Parker?)

You need to eat. A sandwich does it, right?

Edited 2025-05-10 22:48 (UTC)

etraya Inbox.

so rude!!!

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cw: loss of parent figure, depressive episode

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