Peter Parker (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
madeupnames) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
riverview2018-06-14 10:57 am
madeupnames) wrote in riverview2018-06-14 10:57 am
Video. Burner Phone: Spider-Man. | hhhEEELP
Hey, so, need a hand — shit — damn it —
[LANGUAGE.
Also sorry, there's a THUMP-TING noise, because he clips into a light post he did noooot see in the middle of swinging over the city.
The feed spins to life, a red, white, and black masked face in instant view for a moment before the video rolls and rolls — a cement roof underfoot, as the figure stumbles with a gasp of surprise before pretty much crash-landing. The screen is black, the unseen figure moans, and then, holding achy ribs (it was a light fall, no worries, but the way this hurts way more when it didn't before is a little unnerving), he reappears again. It's the local Spider-Man, and the feed doesn't seem to want to stop shivering as the wind whistles. He swallows. Or, um, tries to, but he seems to have some trouble with that.
It's late in the afternoon, the light fading from the sky, and he's breathless from the running (swinging, climbing, panicking) he'd just done.]
Sorry! [Swallow.] Sorry. I fell, but I'm good. I'm, I'm fantastic. Never better. Don't tell Tony Stark. [An A-OK sign is held up with his fingers, the mask blissfully blank and pleasant and voice tempered into something less panicked; cool, we're in hero mode.] Uh, I was out looking for — for these two, Billy and Teddy? They haven't been around, so I was worried they'd... And then Lanie, she's this kid from the park, her mom can't find her. And I owe her, like, five front of the line amusement park coins at this point — right, not the time. But I've been scouting because her mom is seriously freaking out, and...
There were — there was this younger lady was flagging me for help. Said she hurt their ankle while she was out running, so I swung over, but it was tooootally a trap. Like, full-on 'Mouse Trap, look out, don't go for the cheese' kind of trap . And when I went to pick the lady up and take her to the hospital — [He seems to choke on the word a little, swallowing again, straining against something at his throat.] She snapped this on me, and some of their buddies jumped out to grab me once they knew it was latched and working.
[With a nervous chuckle, he shows the metal collar around his neck, which he vainly tries to claw his fingers under.
It's doing something to me. I can't see and hear things like I used to, and my strength's freakin' gone, and nothing's dialed to 11 right now. Like, it just sapped the powers right out of me. And let me tell you, swinging around when you've got no endurance and no healing factor is really scary! Indiana Jones is nuts. [A breathless laugh, brushing the situation off as easy-breezy and not an issue.] They must've thought my webshooters were a part of my powers or something, because they were were surprised when I took off like a bat out of heck. A-anyway, I'm really sorry. I didn't... I should've went after them, but I'm... I'm having a hard time focusing... a little...
This thing is, like, so uncomfortably tight. I think the clasp works like handcuffs do. [Another uncomfortable laugh that may or may not be bordering on a panic attack, as he scrapes gloved fingers against the too-tight collar again.] I can't even get the mask off.
[A pause, and he looks toward where he had swung in from — as if he's considering going back to the park, torn between common sense and his job as both a hero and perimeter guard member. "Peter, your heart rate is unnaturally high," Karen the AI says helpfully in his ear. He's trying to breathe against the fabric of the mask. His vision is blurry.
... He needs his glasses. But he doesn't own glasses anymore.
A bit more defeatedly:]
... Can anyone get this thing off and, I don't know. Figure out how it works?
Please?
[LANGUAGE.
Also sorry, there's a THUMP-TING noise, because he clips into a light post he did noooot see in the middle of swinging over the city.
The feed spins to life, a red, white, and black masked face in instant view for a moment before the video rolls and rolls — a cement roof underfoot, as the figure stumbles with a gasp of surprise before pretty much crash-landing. The screen is black, the unseen figure moans, and then, holding achy ribs (it was a light fall, no worries, but the way this hurts way more when it didn't before is a little unnerving), he reappears again. It's the local Spider-Man, and the feed doesn't seem to want to stop shivering as the wind whistles. He swallows. Or, um, tries to, but he seems to have some trouble with that.
It's late in the afternoon, the light fading from the sky, and he's breathless from the running (swinging, climbing, panicking) he'd just done.]
Sorry! [Swallow.] Sorry. I fell, but I'm good. I'm, I'm fantastic. Never better. Don't tell Tony Stark. [An A-OK sign is held up with his fingers, the mask blissfully blank and pleasant and voice tempered into something less panicked; cool, we're in hero mode.] Uh, I was out looking for — for these two, Billy and Teddy? They haven't been around, so I was worried they'd... And then Lanie, she's this kid from the park, her mom can't find her. And I owe her, like, five front of the line amusement park coins at this point — right, not the time. But I've been scouting because her mom is seriously freaking out, and...
There were — there was this younger lady was flagging me for help. Said she hurt their ankle while she was out running, so I swung over, but it was tooootally a trap. Like, full-on 'Mouse Trap, look out, don't go for the cheese' kind of trap . And when I went to pick the lady up and take her to the hospital — [He seems to choke on the word a little, swallowing again, straining against something at his throat.] She snapped this on me, and some of their buddies jumped out to grab me once they knew it was latched and working.
[With a nervous chuckle, he shows the metal collar around his neck, which he vainly tries to claw his fingers under.
It's doing something to me. I can't see and hear things like I used to, and my strength's freakin' gone, and nothing's dialed to 11 right now. Like, it just sapped the powers right out of me. And let me tell you, swinging around when you've got no endurance and no healing factor is really scary! Indiana Jones is nuts. [A breathless laugh, brushing the situation off as easy-breezy and not an issue.] They must've thought my webshooters were a part of my powers or something, because they were were surprised when I took off like a bat out of heck. A-anyway, I'm really sorry. I didn't... I should've went after them, but I'm... I'm having a hard time focusing... a little...
This thing is, like, so uncomfortably tight. I think the clasp works like handcuffs do. [Another uncomfortable laugh that may or may not be bordering on a panic attack, as he scrapes gloved fingers against the too-tight collar again.] I can't even get the mask off.
[A pause, and he looks toward where he had swung in from — as if he's considering going back to the park, torn between common sense and his job as both a hero and perimeter guard member. "Peter, your heart rate is unnaturally high," Karen the AI says helpfully in his ear. He's trying to breathe against the fabric of the mask. His vision is blurry.
... He needs his glasses. But he doesn't own glasses anymore.
A bit more defeatedly:]
... Can anyone get this thing off and, I don't know. Figure out how it works?
Please?
no subject
( she's glad to note that the sound of his ragged breathing has calmed. it's still a bit forced, if she listens closely, like someone who's trying very hard to get their shit together — but she can't blame him, either. she'd probably be freaking out too after being locked up in a metal maniac's dog collar. )
How do spiders become radioactive, anyway? Were you urbex-ing Three Mile Island or something?
no subject
[Okay, look, he figures at this point he's been pathetic enough that she probably has guessed he's not very old. He takes a moment, closing his eyes and feeling relieved that the sun is setting in the distance. Less light, the better.]
I don't really know how the spider got there. I mean, to be fair, I just kind of say it was radioactive, but who knows... Either way, I figure it was some breech in their work area? [He shrugs.] I got really sick — like, I should've gone to the ER, probably. When I woke up, my vision was 20/20. Or, um. 40/40. I don't know.
I could hear a conversation outside, seven stories down, across the street.
And I could walk on my ceiling.
You know. Typical teenager things.
no subject
( to be totally fair, she hadn't really assumed his age until she'd seen his jawline out of the corner of her eye. that had told her she was working with someone younger, maybe late teens at the most. somebody who had an excuse for feeling as totally uncomfortable in their own skin as skye did. )
If it makes you feel any better — ( even though she knows it probably won't. ) — mine was a rock cocoon followed by a mild coma, so.
( a shrug. )
Getting superpowers, probably a solid three out of ten for me.
( THE TRUTH IS OUT THERE. )
no subject
Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait! He has to stop himself from just totally spinning around to face her, because now he's crazy interested — another super-powered type? That's like a moth to a bug zapper, here. But the awe is definitely heavy in his voice.]
A rock cocoon? That's — What kinda' power did you get?
no subject
( she's pleased to see it's pulled his attentions away from how crappy his day had gone. if skye can share a little bit about herself and take some of that pain and suffering away, she feels like she really ought to do it. )
I can ... I don't know how to explain it. ( so she demonstrates. her hand stretches out, palm parallel to the roof line; after a beat, a slow wave of seismic energy rolls out towards the roof, shaking the tiles and lifting up pieces of rubble that are rocked and rolled right off towards the ground below. ) I can make things shake, I guess.
no subject
... Like an earthquake? Oooh, scary.
[But he clears his throat, feeling more like himself... albeit extremely fucking ill. But don't worry about that. Focus on the good stuff. Maybe if he does that, he won't puke on anyone's shoes.]
In a cool way, I mean... Not exactly just seismic noise, since you can use it on anything, right? Like, if you used it on someone's belly, it'd look like one of those weight-loss body-shaker thingys. Or does it only work on earth?
no subject
I honestly have no idea — well, I mean, I don't have super great control of it yet. It's still new to me, so trying it out on people's bodies hasn't been... totally high priority yet.
( there's a beat. )
You're way too damn skinny to need a weight-loss shake, Spider Dude.
( and then, now that she's actually, you know, seen his face. )
Okay, look, I can't just keep calling you variations on spider shit, you have to have an actual name I can program into my phone.
no subject
Spider-Man.
... Or, uh. Or Peter. Peter's... good.
[Yeah, this was doomed from the start. He gives up identity covering at this point; like, once someone catches you in the middle of an undignified panic and you both end up super-powered allies, there's little point in trying.]