Decided to play some with an old Spider-Man OC that I've had back burnered for so long. I may play with my toys more, but this was just to help with my creativity block <3
I want to do a post with more details soon but here's the guy(?)
New York would be the same. That was the tragedy when it came to citizens who died, as awful as it may be for those who knew them. Grief would consume and then it would dissipate much like the rain. Feet pushed closer to the edge of the rooftop, but stopped just before losing balance and plunging to the city below. Not that there was much fear regarding that.
Today, it seemed the entirety of Queens was in mourning. The sun had set at approximately 1730, the streetlamps illuminating the roads. So were the candles. So were the smart phone flashlights. So were the people who walked and laid flowers down and-
They were mourning.
Spiderman took note of the faces in the crowd. Recognition pinged over and over and over. Spiderman knew these people, Spiderman knew the deceased.
The vigil came to a halt as one Maybelle Parker collapsed before a large portrait that was set out on a rod iron easel. A flurry of red followed behind her as Mary Jane Watson ran over to help the older woman up from the pavement. Spiderman focused on them before running a scan through the entire crowd.
Despite everything that happened, Maybelle Parker and Mary Jane Watson were designated priorities and would remain so, it had to be that way. Still, every citizen below was considered someone to protect. Humanity was something to protect. Even the ones who committed crimes. Spiderman was not a judge, no. Merely a… Hero that was set to protect those who need protecting.
There’s a ping inside the suit. Right.
Despite the parameters, Spiderman failed at protecting the one person who had mattered most in the moment- Or maybe he mattered the least. The numbers were still calculating away, had been for days as Spiderman attempted to provide objective fact to subjective chaos. Errors were still bouncing back, but that’s why you add new numbers and new functions and new-
Reset. Confirm? Yes.
The numbers didn’t change the fact that Spiderman did not protect Peter Parker.
Spiderman had sat in the distance, perched up in a tree as the coffin was lowered into the ground. There were many calls of petty crime that tried to pull attention away from the moment, but Spiderman stayed despite it all.
Peter Parker had been a staple of his community. He helped his aunt at the community center, he was set to go to MIT in the fall. His search history was full of different jeweler websites as he searched the internet for the perfect ring for one perfect Mary Jane Watson. Peter Parker had been Spiderman.
More errors fired off on the screen, flooding the system with distraction after distraction. Spiderman stepped back from the edge. The hero forced another quick restart but that only seemed to slow down the barrage by seconds. A web shot into the air to carry the error riddled figure out into the city.
The rest of the city was acting as though nothing had happened. The lights of the advertisements still burned the eyes of people below who milled and scammed and took pictures of the city. Always heard it was a beautiful city.
Spiderman swung all the way to the old library. It was long since closed for the night but there was still a window wedged open up on the top floor. It was dangerous to keep a window open, but it was a calculated risk that a thief or a vandal would not be able to climb up to this window, especially without a fire escape present. It wasn’t impossible, technically, but probability favored the bold.
Squeezing into the window was easy, then there was a moment of observation. Taking a scan of the room, there was no one up there. There never was, this room was always abandoned. There weren’t even books up there, just old dust covered desks and some broken chairs that had yet to be thrown away.
And a rather advanced computer set up.
Stealing, objectively, was bad. Which was why the computer was not stolen. It had belonged to Peter Parker, which meant it also belonged to Spiderman. The computer was tucked into the back corner, hidden by a mountain of perfectly stacked desks. Spiderman needed a new spot to hide this, but everything was still so fresh. The search would have to wait until everything settled.
Reaching up into the hood of the costume, Spiderman pulled the zipper down just enough to pull out the short cord. Spiderman knelt down to plug the cord into the tower of the machine, then in an instant, the suit lost form and crumpled into fabric upon the floor.
Spiderman opened up the police scanner in the background before it started to sort through the errors. It seemed the only way to clear it all was a system reboot. Annoying, but fine.
restart_program(“Åtte_beta”)