“I don’t know,” he said. “Do I? Does anyone? There’s no page on that in the manual–The Big Wheel and You: What to expect when a madman drives a unicycle through Midtown! I mean, there also isn’t a manual.” Peter frowned. “We should write a manual.” As Tony shepherded him out of the elevator–a little too forcefully, quickly, nervously–he heard something clattering in the shaft above them. Peter looked up, but there was nothing there. He didn’t make a crack about the new pets; he saw the way Tony tensed up, and followed him quickly out.
He’d never seen the lab clean. This was Tony Stark, who preferred loud music and flashy tricks to remembering to clean up after himself, and, Peter was pretty sure, didn’t know how to run a vacuum cleaner that wasn’t robotic. Not that he could judge; his workstation back at ESU was a nightmare on a good day, and his apartment, well. The less said about that the better. (Sorry, Aunt May.) But this was worse than usual. It could have been the gremlins–it was probably the gremlins, but it could also have just been Tony. Peter picked up an empty soda can and lobbed it in the general direction of a trash can. That was… helping.
He didn’t care that it was shitty frozen pizza, or that it was long past room temperature. It was pizza. Fuck, he was starving. When had he last eaten? Before the Big Wheel, probably. A protein bar. So he grabbed a slice before so much as putting down his backpack, and leaned against the table. “Thanks,” he said, mouth full. “What if I wanted to meet the gremlins? You gonna turn into a grempire? Were-gremlin? You try feeding them pizza?” Peter swallowed, slung his bag over the back of a chair, and reached for another piece. “Can I see the map? Do we have a game plan? Can I do anything?”
❛ title’s too long, no one’s going to read that. it needs workshopping, but sure, we can write a big wheel manual. ❜ if everyone fixes their problems, maybe the place will bounce right back into an altogether uneasy calm. tony isn’t grateful for the havoc that’s gone on lately, but he’d admittedly been getting a little restless. for all they know, this whole thing could be just to keep them busy. they’re hamsters running around a little wheel while doom sits on the couch and watches, that sort of thing. anyway, the point is, they’ll have more free time eventually.
❛ if all it took was a 20 dollar meal to get them to settle down, believe me, they’d be gone. just because it works on you… ❜ he trails off, eyes rolling. they’re not barbaric, and while tony isn’t anywhere near daisy’s appreciation for the creatures, part of the problem is trying to go about all of this without leaving the building a gruesome scene of gremlin remains. realistically, if they wanted to corner them all and pick up a flame thrower or something, it would be way less time consuming and tedious. but, also, very gross. potentially very inhumane. yada yada yada.
he’s back, wandering through his own head, before peter’s voice drags him back. the map is only a hop, skip, few button presses away. a holographic latverion spreads around the room, peter standing in the savage lands and bracketed between images of felicia and gwen connected by a line. he snorts, even though it can’t have been anything but unintentional. designated pairs pop up around their spots all around, situation descriptors below. some more extensive than others, his and daisy’s informative versus karen and ben’s, which just says ‘rocks?????’ ❛ you could, yeah. i mean - take your pick. dragon ? books ? vampires ? seems like everyone’s got a handle on it for now, though. what you should do is take a break. eat your pizza. ❜