043 | SPAM & VIDEO

[myresponsibility]

[Open Spam]

[Peter has been cataloging the damage to the ship in every nook, cranny and corner he can get at, taking video, snapping pictures, and writing everything down. He revisits certain trouble spots, ones where they seem bad, but maybe not bad enough to focus on immediately just to make sure they haven't totally fallen apart yet. That means he's on the ceiling of the dining hall, going in and out of unoccupied cabins, knocking on doors of anyone who's got rot outside their cabins and sometimes climbing around in the elevator shaft just to make sure they've got all their bases covered.

He's doing this all in his Spider-Man costume, sans mask, because it's less likely to get caught in the mechanics of the elevator shaft or you know, anywhere else, and he's not looking to get squished or stuck anywhere, thanks.

It's... weird to be wearing it again after so long. He still really doesn't feel like he should, but at the same time, it kind of feels like he's supposed to.

(No, that doesn't really make sense, but bear with us.)

He's also keeping an eye out. It seems like more people are displaced than not, and he's not stupid: even with the power dampeners back in place, there are people who are going to be serious problems, and he's got the ability to stop them, and the moral obligation to do it.

So watch out, Barge. Peter Parker is (a little reluctantly) back in the saddle.

Which means he's got some other stuff to take care of.]

[Warden Filter]

Hey. I'm Peter Parker. Not the fangy, gross, kind of possessed by I don't even know what Peter, [The joke still falls a little flatter than it should, like he can't quite reach the same easy glib humor as before. He sounds (and looks) a little older than he should. He (and his costume) also looks a little grimy, because the elevator shaft is a bit dusty and gross? Maybe we should clean that more often?] Just, you know. Me. Spider-Man. [He tries really, really hard not to let on how weird it is to say that.] And I'm the other warden on Maintenance and Repair.

So, you've all already heard Anya's speech, and I'm not gonna give it to you again, but seriously: we need help. Even if you don't want to go back there, you're gonna have to if this place falls apart. I've been doing a lot of digging around trying to figure out what the best plan of attack should be, and if you need a hand learning how to play nice with power tools, I'm around.

And if you can't handle your inmate, even with reduced powers or whatever? Call me. I can help.

[Anddd now he's a bit uncomfortable, maybe a little unsure, and it shows in his expression a bit, but he clears his throat and furrows his brow and kind of just powers through.] Thanks.

Comments

spam;

[interns]

[ truth be told, Gwen doesn't hate seeing him in the costume. it doesn't wig her out like she thought it might, doesn't remind her of the things she's trying to come to terms with. all she remembers right now is the good - kids wearing shirts with his symbol, the police force recognizing that he was more than just a vigilante, words webbed on the Brooklyn Bridge. it scares her, the life that comes with being Spider-Man, it probably always will, but she's more proud of him than worried about him. which is why she takes her time eating her lunch even once she notices him in the dining hall, doing who knows what on the ceiling. he looks occupied though, he's not just watching what's going on down below him at least, so yeah. she takes her time before moseying over his way, fingers linked behind her back as she moves to stand riiiiight under where he's roaming around on the ceiling, following him along for a bit before- ]

Looking good, Spider-Man.

[ yes, she said it a little tiny bit louder than she probably needed to, but no, she isn't feeling bashful about it. everything is pretty- not awesome right now, she knows, she's aware. but she's really proud of her boyfriend? and she's not going to pass up an opportunity to be silly about it. this is what he gets for smooching her at graduation. well, it's one tiny part in a long-term revenge plan. of mild embarrassment. ]

spam;

[myresponsibility]

[Peter startles a little, both because he'd genuinely been caught up in his work and, well, that voice and that name sort of sends an unpleasant shiver down his spine, because he's working on it (forgive her, forgive yourself James had said, and he's trying, damn it, he's trying), but he still has bad days where he feels like he can barely convince himself to get out of bed.

There are better days when all he wants to do is wrap himself around her and hold her close, listen to her breathe and try to remind himself that it's okay, this is okay, they're going to figure this out. And now there's this, apparently.

So he looks down and smiles, sort of shy and maybe a little wounded, or just bashful. Her smile is still pretty much the best thing ever, though, so he might be missing James and his best friend might be a psycho werewolf right now, and a couple of his other buddies are kind of crazy, but. Gwen's here.]

Hey. [He takes a look around just to make sure it's safe (and maybe that Scott's not around...) before hopping down to the ground, sliding his camera over his shoulder and reaching out to take her hand, his smile turning a little bit more like his old self and less like whatever he is, now.] Can I tell you something?

[interns]

Hi.

[ her fingers lace up easily with his, like she was expecting it ( even if she's trying to not expect anything, just be grateful for what they have, all those very selfless things that Gwen needs to work on accomplishing ), or maybe she just would have reached for his hand anyway if he hadn't first. she turns to maybe give him a kiss on the shoulder, but sniffsniff. oh Peter, where have you been? but she's more curious about what he wants to tell her, first ]

Yeah, anything.

[myresponsibility]

[Yeah uh, he probably could use a bath and the costume will need to go through the wash (on a color cycle so his white don't get dyed pink and blue again, oops), but hey, this is probably better smelling than certain other adventures have left him...?

Anyway.

Peter leans in a little closer and drops his voice to a stage whisper, the grin sort of spoiling any attempt he's making to make this look like it's actually a secret.]

I really, really love you.

[spam]

[lydiascreams]

[She's just walking past the elevator, not at all planning on going inside when she hears the noise. And then all of the sudden sees someone crawling out from it, definitely not someone who was in the elevator car.

Lydia gasps, eyes wide, hand over her chest, and then slowly she recognizes the costume and who this is.]

Jesus! What were you doing in there?

[spam]

[myresponsibility]

[Peter carefully pulls the doors closed, mostly because he's afraid of breaking them and less because they're especially heavy or difficult for him to fuss with. Fortunately, they slide close without much effort once he's got them going, and he quickly pulls his hands free to make sure his fingers don't get pinched in them.

But okay, yes. Full attention on concerned friend, yes. That.]

Anya asked me to catalog the damage to the ship, figured we kind of didn't want to leave any stone unturned, you know?

It's safe. The brakes are fine.

[spam]

[lydiascreams]

Great.

[She's staring at him, because--]

Was is safe for you to be in there? [She knows from everything she's heard about him that Peter is smart, but she just needs to double check. He hasn't really been himself lately?]

[spam]

[myresponsibility]

Is anywhere on the Barge totally safe?

[Just saying.]

I'm fine. Believe me, I'd rather I try and make sure there's nothing falling apart in there than like, Anya or Stephen or someone.

... You know, if Stephen wasn't thinking about growing a goatee right now. Or something. I haven't actually really talked to him since the swap, so. [He shrugs.]

spam!

[flashin]

[Wally is, surprise surprise, in the dining hall rooting around for food at the moment. Because, as always, he's starving. So, he's emerging triumphant with a kitchen with a collection of food that looks like it could feed a family of four all loaded up on a tray and just looking pretty pleased about life, all things considered, when he hears the sound of movement from-- above him???

He stops, turns, and looks up at the kid in red and blue that's stuck to the ceiling and, well, just kind of stares for a second.]

Dude, that's kind of creepy.

spam!

[myresponsibility]

[Peter's been aware of Wally and the other people in the dining hall for a while, but honestly? This part of this whole thing being weird hasn't really occurred to him. He's got a lot of other stuff to worry about, and his identity hasn't been secret here in what feels like forever.

So he just very calmly looks down at Wally and smiles.]

Yeah, well, arachnophobia is pretty common, [He offers, a little wryly. There's still some of that grief and depression lingering in his expression somewhere, but it's a lot less noticeable than when Wally was first on board and talked to him, so that's progress, at least.]

[flashin]

[The tray of food is getting set down, although Wally's definitely snatching up one of the protein bars he'd managed to dig out of one of the kitchen cabinets, opening it up and taking a bite of something that is definitely just processed, disgusting health.

He doesn't seem to mind, considering he's just chewing that weird mess while giving Peter that same half-contemplative, half-weirded out look.]

Yeah, especially when the last spider-guy I knew happened to be an assassin for hire. [Munch munch] Kind of cultivates arachno-wariness.

spam

[suaveandspectral]

[Having relearned how to navigate doors without walking right through them, Jim is wandering the halls trying to get a discreet look at the place. It's a right mess, and gives support to the claims that the place has been under some form of recent attack. Too bad he missed it, the other barge might have been his ticket out of this ridiculous place.

As he enters the dining hall movement on the ceiling makes him glance upward. He sees a figure in brightly colored spandex exhibiting strange abilities and immediately his superhero-avoidance instincts come to the fore.

Unfortunately said instincts haven't yet adjusted to his new restrictions. Rather than a triumphant escape via phasing through the solid wall behind him, Jim rams face-first into the wall and is knocked right on his ghost arse, flickering from white to black before he recovers.]

spam

[myresponsibility]

[Peter's too caught up in his work to notice the new arrival until that, well. Sort of dramatic escape attempt.

The slam makes him perk up and immediately turn towards the sound, frowning when he sees it's a guy he doesn't recognize and- well, this could potentially turn out bad, but he can handle himself, and obviously this guy needs help, so he hops down from the ceiling pretty much without hesitating, landing neatly and walking over to see what he can do to help.]

Wow, dude, you okay?

[suaveandspectral]

[His dignity's taken a hit, but the pain is fleeting. Jim pushes his hat back up and clambers to his feet.]

Quite. You merely surprised me. [He takes the measure of the man before him, adjusting the monocle in his unseen eye socket. Definitely a superhero with an opening line like that, but no one thus far has cause to know his identity before he's told them. Perhaps flight was a hasty response.]

Spam

[voluntaryapnea]

[Stiles is trying, without much success, to log onto his counterpart's computer. He's tried every damn password he can think of: his dad's birthday, his mom's, their anniversary, Lydia's birthday, Scott's birthday. He's tried combinations of words: strawberry blonde banshee, true alpha, McCall Pack, and it's gotten him exactly Jack squat.

His frustration level is building and he drums his fingers on the desk, glaring at the laptop. He's pretty damn sure his doppleganger probably has a wealth of valuable information stored on the thing, and there's no reason in the world he shouldn't be able to figure out what his own freaking password is. He growls and slams the lid shut, leaning back in the chair as he grinds his teeth together.

There's a knock on his door and he sighs, rubbing a hand over his face before getting to his feet and moving over to open it, pausing at the sight of Peter Parker in his Spider-Man costume, sans the mask. For a brief moment he's confused because the last time he'd seen Peter, he'd been wearing a much different kind of costume. It dawns on him that this is this barge's Peter Parker. Which means he's some kind of superhero do-gooder. He has to resist the urge to roll his eyes.]

What?

Spam

[myresponsibility]

[Peter does a little bit of a double take when he sees Stiles. His friend looks... a little rough, or maybe just a combination of surprised and annoyed to see him, and that's. Weird.

Maybe not so weird, considering which Scott is on board, but still.]

Hey. Sorry, I was just trying to figure out if the rot's getting inside your cabin, too, there are some patches outside-

[He trails off and frowns at Stiles, not doing much to hide his concern.]

You okay?

Spam

[voluntaryapnea]

[Of course the human him is friends with all of this barge's superheroes. Steve, Bucky, Peter. It's probably the only reason the idiot isn't getting his ass kicked on a regular basis. And of course, Scott. And he's still not sure how he feels about any of that whole situation, so he shrugs a shoulder and glances into his room.]

There isn't.

[It's been nearly a week since he landed on this barge, and as easy as it's been to pretend to be his other self, he's getting kind of bored with it.]

I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?

spams

[150th]

[Why is there knocking? Who would even knock?

The door slides open on its own. No one is there, but a vague brush of surface telepathy reaches Peter.]

{Yes?}

spams

[myresponsibility]

[Peter blinks, rears back a little, but then shakes it off like it's no big deal, because it's not, really, in the grand scheme of things.

I mean, seriously, far from the weirdest thing that's ever happened here.]

Hi. Uh, is there any of the rot, or like, damage in your room? There's some in the hallway, I'm trying to check and make sure it's not, you know. Eating a hole in your wall while you're sleeping or anything.

spams

[150th]

[A pause. It is checking the walls, its cabin is not very well-lit. In fact, all that can be seen is a glowing pillar with black vines twisting up from its base, and a strange, inhuman shape pacing in the back.]

{It does not appear so.}

[Spam]

[semifreakingnormal]

[He smells Parker well before he sees him. Scott follows the scent down a level, glad that at least that isn't dampened - and pissed, too, because he doesn't want to thank this fake Admiral for anything. Circling the elevator, he finally stops in front of it and jams his finger against the call button. When it open he ducks in immediately. Whatever caution he might have once possessed has burned up in the short time he's been here.

Allison's becoming an alpha, the wrong people are wardens, the wrong people are here, and he's powerless. He hates it.

When he looks up and spots Peter crawling into the carriage, he growls and pushes a smirk to his face.]

Haven't seen that outfit in a while.

[Spam]

[myresponsibility]

[Oh, shit. Peter realizes who's in the elevator just at the right moment to not be able to make a graceful retreat, so he just. Sort of lands. On the floor.

And then stands around a little awkwardly, because hello, crazy best friend.

You know who's got two thumbs and is tired of his friends turning out to be psychos?

This guy.]

Yeah, well, black's not really my color. [Neither are the fangs, but we've discussed this.] I'd ask what was going on with that, but I'm not sure I wanna know, you know?

[warden filter] a million years late

[punched_hitler]

You seem like a good guy to have on maintenance and repair.

[Okay, it's a joke, but he actually means it.]

And to have as backup.

[And that's definitely no joke. So he'll keep that in mind, when he can't count on some of the people he otherwise would.

Or in general.]

[warden filter] pft never late!!

[myresponsibility]

Yeah, well-

[He smiles, and hopes it doesn't look too pained, or forced, or sheepish. It's like relearning how to walk.]

I try. Might as well be putting what I can do to good use, right?

[Instead of just curling up on the nearest available flat surface and wishing he could just shut his brain off for a while, anyway.]

[warden filter] <333

[punched_hitler]

Seems better than sitting around bored.

[He tries to make it a joke, but he understands. The curling up is really tempting, isn't it? But it never solved anything, and he figures you know that.]