(she sounds slightly distracted when she answers. her book is getting so good peter, she's still got her eyes on the last bit of her paragraph...) Hmm?
(a pause, before she registers that he's asking her something,) Oh– yeah. I'm down.
Yeah, just enjoying the one good afternoon out of the month while I can. You know how this place works; one second you're appreciating nature, the next you're being overrun with creepy crawlies.
Thought I'd walk over, meet you halfway?
[He hesitates, which is — unusual.]
A little company to distract me right now'd be nice.
(yeah, now that she's paying proper attention she can tell something's off, but he's meeting her in person to talk she won't ask, will save it for then; dog-earring her book, she shuts it and slips off her bed, dragging her boots out from underneath of it.)
(- and, before she clicks off the omni,) Take your mask. It filters, right, there's some– weird mushroom shit happening. (she's lacing her boots. her voice drops to a pissed-off sorta mutter,) I don't like it.
Right, yeah. Weird mushroom illnesses, your favorite kind of thing to deal with.
I've got it on me, just in case.
[The mask, that is. The dorky hero-type in him almost offers to build her a mask that will properly filter things... but, uh. He realizes maybe it's a little too late for that. He's pretty sure his time's about up. Pretty close to it, anyway, if the strange discoloration on his torso and urge to dunk his whole body in water is anything to go by.
Cool. Great.
He focuses harder on getting to Abby than those annoying thoughts, and can be seen in the distance as a swinging dot on the horizon — he's not, strangely enough, in his Spider-Man uniform. In fact, he hasn't been in it in a few days now.]
(it's kinda funny to see the little moving dot in the distance and gather that it's him. in fact, once abby realises what she's looking at, she speeds up her walk. what? she's competitive. she wants to beat him to the halfway point even though there's no hope of her pace outstripping his.
he does win her out, they're much closer to her place than his. it doesn't actually matter, it's just good to see that he finally got his web slinging under control, and abby is not remembering the time he didn't, okay. she isn't, she doesn't think about that at all.)
Bite me, (she calls back, and takes a big step out of the way to give him room to do his cool superhero landing. she's considerate like that, and pleased to see him, grinning as he straightens up.)
[He looks healthy, he looks okay — it's something of a paradox, honestly, because usually bad news means someone's unwell in some way, right? Or at least, that's the status quo here. Landing in one of those silly superhero poses, he looks up with raised eyebrows and a fond smile.]
Careful, I might just bite your ankles with an order like that. [But he elects not to. You're welcome! Instead he stands straight up, smoothing out the wrinkles in the front of his flannel shirt.] I'd say that's a new world record; not that there's a lot out there for swinging on a web from place to place.
(she does a little jump out of the way to discourage him from that, nose scrunched, threatening laughter.)
Yeah. Kinda think you're racing yourself at this point.
(he does look okay. maybe abby was a bit worried when he messaged her out of the blue; but she's happy to have been called on, glad that bad jokes can make him feel a little better. she gives him a nudge in the arm with her elbow, hands stuffed into the pockets of her jacket. bit cold out here, now that the weather's starting to turn.) We going anywhere in particular?
Hey, I don't mind having myself as a rival. Sounds fun!
[He talks to himself plenty when he's in the suit, anyway. Kind of a... way to keep himself entertained? A way to feel like he has company on those longer nights? He's big dumb grin shrinks, and he looks a bit more solemn out of his eyes.]
... Honestly, I wasn't really thinking about a destination.
but she's hardly one to criticise anybody for not wanting to talk about it. probably, like, the last person who should be making snarky comments. so instead she shrugs, and gives his shoulder a companionable bump with her own as she falls into step beside him.)
... Guess you can, just this once.
(a beat, before she continues:) Sounds like you're angling to hear about what I'm reading at the moment.
[Not long after their last meeting, Abby will find a small bag sitting on her window sill.
The small note attached reads:
"I know it's not your style, and I don't expect you to go swinging around the city, but this might be helpful if you need to climb up something and you're all out of rope. And, y'know. If you want to blast a monster in the face with web to make a clean getaway. I've added a couple of months worth of web cartridges, so use it wisely, but - if you ever need someone to replicate the formula, there are some notes in here that detail how to make it. Careful not to try it yourself, or you might end up stuck to a wall for a few hours.
Hopefully this helps you or your own in a tight spot. Feel free to give it to one of your 'adopteds' if it's more their style. You know what I mean by that, I know you've got a bleeding heart.
Thanks for everything, Abs.
Give those sweet biceps a kiss each for me. ;)
Love,
- Peter 🤟"
Inside the bag is, in fact, one of his webshooters, with a bundle of web cartridges and a set of instructions on how to use it — including big web blasts and taser-webbing.]
Trench and Deerington may be full of uncertainties but at least there is one constant: wherever she is, Clarisse knows where to find weed. Abby has no idea how she does it, and having just wondered that, she remembers suddenly that there are so many different kinds of mushrooms that sprout up around their home and suburb. The thought has her staring suspiciously at the joint between her fingers...
Before she takes a second drag.
That would require grating the mushrooms up really fine, and she knows Clarisse is too lazy to go through all that trouble just to get high. It's bog standard weed then, and she's simply a magnet for it.
As if Abby cares. It's a very useful feature. She passes the blunt, and exhales smoke lazily out of the corner of her mouth, settling further into the couch.
"Okay. Hear me out."
She pauses, for dramatic effect. "Who would you fuck out of Darth Maul, Reaper, and..." her expression twists, threatening laughter, "Korra. Go."
Clarisse pauses with the blunt halfway to her own lips, watching Abby through the haze of smoke, and then she utters a surprised, reedy laugh.
"Some great options there," she says, and takes a drag, feeling the heat settle in her lungs. She holds her breath while she thinks things over, then exhales sharply, decisively, adding to the smoke already drifting around the room. "Korra. As long as her mouth's taped shut."
Because Maul probably has a weird dick, and who the fuck knows what's going on with Reaper. Korra at least looks like she lifts.
She watches Clarisse back through half-lidded eyes, and gives her a little nudge with her socked foot. They're sharing this couch, sort of top and tailing it with the blunt covering the space between them. It's nice. It's just what Abby needs, really: the two of them, and no obligation to be any kind of serious.
"Maul," she replies, with no hesitation. Because he probably has a weird dick. And– "The whole..." she gestures at her face, to indicate the face paint and horns, and then, generally, his whole deal, "Is some weird kink thing, right? Bet he's kinda wild."
She's definitely trying to get Clarisse to kick her and tell her she's gross. Is it working.
Clarisse does kick Abby, but mostly just because it's rude to tease your friend by saying you'd fuck someone they hate. She's still grinning, though, and the kick turns into more of an aggressive nudge into Abby's ribs.
"Abby. You're into some freaky shit, huh? Wow, never would've guessed."
She laughs, triumphant, and tries to nab Clarisse's ankle under her arm but she moves it too fast, jabbing like a snake. Also, Abby's timing is a little impaired.
"I am not, I was messing with you." She's frowning in concentration, but breaks it to look up at Clarisse suddenly, knowing, "And that's some shit to accuse me of when your girlfriend is literally temperature play."
"Oh, yeah," Clarisse says, grinning. "Temperature play and super strength. It's way hot. Plus... I am half divine, you know." She's high, so she's not exactly sure what she's implying with that line—that she has better stamina or that she's just more amazing than other people and therefore her sex life has to be, too?—but it doesn't matter. To her, anyway.
She passes the blunt back in Abby's direction and blows smoke at her as soon as she reaches for it. "But don't accuse me of accusing you of some shit when you're the one who started the whole thing by faking like you'd be into Maul's weird spiky dick, Abigail."
"What does that even mean." She gives up on trying to trap Clarisse, and sits up properly for the joint. In response to getting smoke blown at her? She simply coughs directly into Clarisse's face, and yanks it out of her fingers. Cope.
After reclining back, and wriggling around until she finds the perfect way for the cushion to bunch up against her shoulders, her face scrunches up. "Spiky? Is it...?" Yikes. A drag, in which she works her jaw as if chewing the smoke, "I thought it'd just be... curved."
Her spluttering exhale is more laugh than anything else. "Or like a tentacle."
Clarisse gives her a disdainful look, though it's unclear whether that's because Abby just coughed in her face or because Abby took the joint from her the way she did or because Abby assumes she actually knows what Maul's dick looks like. Maybe all three.
"How would I know what it looks like?" She scoffs and leans her head back, closes her eyes. Feels sorta like she's in gentle motion, a boat rocking back and forth on the waves, though she knows she isn't. "Maybe he doesn't even have one."
Counterpoint: Clarisse's face is just like that. It makes Abby think of weird shit her dad used to say when she was a kid. If the wind changes, your face will stay like that. What does that even mean??
"You wouldn't, but you've officially put the most thought into it of the two of us."
She's teasing, her eyes lazy and bright. She stretches her legs out a little further, and tips her head back to stare at the ceiling. "Sex with guys is... overrated, anyway."
Clarisse's face is just like that, and she won't apologize.
"No," she argues, "you did, when you made me play this dumb game in the first place." She's conveniently forgetting that she was the one who brought up Maul's dick and what it might look like, but if Abby knows anything about her, it's that she'll never admit to being wrong about it.
And anyway, there's a new and much better topic of discussion, so. Clarisse opens her eyes and sits up, maybe a liiittle more enthusiastic-seeming than she intends. Her cheeks are even a tiny bit redder than they were a second ago. "Yes. Gods, it's so much better with girls."
Abby laughs, breathy and warm, and lifts her head to eyeball Clarisse as she practically straightens her spine. She's so funny whenever Bella comes up inadvertently in conversation... she gets shiny. That's the only way Abby's weed-fuzzy brain can think to describe it right at this second. It's love. She's really happy for them.
"Yeah," she agrees, even though her experience with girls boils down to the grand total of: none, "It's– girls are..."
Thoughts... Abby isn't really sure what she's going for. She makes a vague shape in the air with both hands. "Soft."
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Voice.
You have any time today for another walk around town?
Totally won't catapult us through the air on a webshooter. Promise.
[Smooth, Pete. Really smooth way to start a sad conversation in the making.]
voice
(a pause, before she registers that he's asking her something,) Oh– yeah. I'm down.
You already out?
voice
Thought I'd walk over, meet you halfway?
[He hesitates, which is — unusual.]
A little company to distract me right now'd be nice.
voice, 1/2
'Kay. I can do that. (any time, for him.)
See you soon.
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(feels bad, man.)
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Right, yeah. Weird mushroom illnesses, your favorite kind of thing to deal with.
I've got it on me, just in case.
[The mask, that is. The dorky hero-type in him almost offers to build her a mask that will properly filter things... but, uh. He realizes maybe it's a little too late for that. He's pretty sure his time's about up. Pretty close to it, anyway, if the strange discoloration on his torso and urge to dunk his whole body in water is anything to go by.
Cool. Great.
He focuses harder on getting to Abby than those annoying thoughts, and can be seen in the distance as a swinging dot on the horizon — he's not, strangely enough, in his Spider-Man uniform. In fact, he hasn't been in it in a few days now.]
Look out below!
[Don't worry, he won't land on you.
But it's fun to call anyway!]
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he does win her out, they're much closer to her place than his. it doesn't actually matter, it's just good to see that he finally got his web slinging under control, and abby is not remembering the time he didn't, okay. she isn't, she doesn't think about that at all.)
Bite me, (she calls back, and takes a big step out of the way to give him room to do his cool superhero landing. she's considerate like that, and pleased to see him, grinning as he straightens up.)
Hey. That was fast, how long did that take you?
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Careful, I might just bite your ankles with an order like that. [But he elects not to. You're welcome! Instead he stands straight up, smoothing out the wrinkles in the front of his flannel shirt.] I'd say that's a new world record; not that there's a lot out there for swinging on a web from place to place.
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Yeah. Kinda think you're racing yourself at this point.
(he does look okay. maybe abby was a bit worried when he messaged her out of the blue; but she's happy to have been called on, glad that bad jokes can make him feel a little better. she gives him a nudge in the arm with her elbow, hands stuffed into the pockets of her jacket. bit cold out here, now that the weather's starting to turn.) We going anywhere in particular?
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[He talks to himself plenty when he's in the suit, anyway. Kind of a... way to keep himself entertained? A way to feel like he has company on those longer nights? He's big dumb grin shrinks, and he looks a bit more solemn out of his eyes.]
... Honestly, I wasn't really thinking about a destination.
You up for pointless wandering while we talk?
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(ah, but she caught that little mood change there...)
What's up? (he said he wanted a distraction, but that doesn't stop her from being curious. better fess up, pete.)
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The smile he gives is half-hearted, like he knows she knows he's full of it.]
What, can't I have a nice walk with a friend? Talking about everything and nothing?
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but she's hardly one to criticise anybody for not wanting to talk about it. probably, like, the last person who should be making snarky comments. so instead she shrugs, and gives his shoulder a companionable bump with her own as she falls into step beside him.)
... Guess you can, just this once.
(a beat, before she continues:) Sounds like you're angling to hear about what I'm reading at the moment.
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look at me playercesting to give you the 1, 2, K.O.
mods arrest this player IMMEDIATELY
3:^)
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(Belated Late November)
The small note attached reads:
"I know it's not your style, and I don't expect you to go swinging around the city, but this might be helpful if you need to climb up something and you're all out of rope. And, y'know. If you want to blast a monster in the face with web to make a clean getaway. I've added a couple of months worth of web cartridges, so use it wisely, but - if you ever need someone to replicate the formula, there are some notes in here that detail how to make it. Careful not to try it yourself, or you might end up stuck to a wall for a few hours.
Hopefully this helps you or your own in a tight spot. Feel free to give it to one of your 'adopteds' if it's more their style. You know what I mean by that, I know you've got a bleeding heart.
Thanks for everything, Abs.
Give those sweet biceps a kiss each for me. ;)
Love,
- Peter 🤟"
Inside the bag is, in fact, one of his webshooters, with a bundle of web cartridges and a set of instructions on how to use it — including big web blasts and taser-webbing.]
(this never happened)
Before she takes a second drag.
That would require grating the mushrooms up really fine, and she knows Clarisse is too lazy to go through all that trouble just to get high. It's bog standard weed then, and she's simply a magnet for it.
As if Abby cares. It's a very useful feature. She passes the blunt, and exhales smoke lazily out of the corner of her mouth, settling further into the couch.
"Okay. Hear me out."
She pauses, for dramatic effect. "Who would you fuck out of Darth Maul, Reaper, and..." her expression twists, threatening laughter, "Korra. Go."
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"Some great options there," she says, and takes a drag, feeling the heat settle in her lungs. She holds her breath while she thinks things over, then exhales sharply, decisively, adding to the smoke already drifting around the room. "Korra. As long as her mouth's taped shut."
Because Maul probably has a weird dick, and who the fuck knows what's going on with Reaper. Korra at least looks like she lifts.
"Now you."
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She watches Clarisse back through half-lidded eyes, and gives her a little nudge with her socked foot. They're sharing this couch, sort of top and tailing it with the blunt covering the space between them. It's nice. It's just what Abby needs, really: the two of them, and no obligation to be any kind of serious.
"Maul," she replies, with no hesitation. Because he probably has a weird dick. And– "The whole..." she gestures at her face, to indicate the face paint and horns, and then, generally, his whole deal, "Is some weird kink thing, right? Bet he's kinda wild."
She's definitely trying to get Clarisse to kick her and tell her she's gross. Is it working.
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Clarisse does kick Abby, but mostly just because it's rude to tease your friend by saying you'd fuck someone they hate. She's still grinning, though, and the kick turns into more of an aggressive nudge into Abby's ribs.
"Abby. You're into some freaky shit, huh? Wow, never would've guessed."
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"I am not, I was messing with you." She's frowning in concentration, but breaks it to look up at Clarisse suddenly, knowing, "And that's some shit to accuse me of when your girlfriend is literally temperature play."
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She passes the blunt back in Abby's direction and blows smoke at her as soon as she reaches for it. "But don't accuse me of accusing you of some shit when you're the one who started the whole thing by faking like you'd be into Maul's weird spiky dick, Abigail."
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After reclining back, and wriggling around until she finds the perfect way for the cushion to bunch up against her shoulders, her face scrunches up. "Spiky? Is it...?" Yikes. A drag, in which she works her jaw as if chewing the smoke, "I thought it'd just be... curved."
Her spluttering exhale is more laugh than anything else. "Or like a tentacle."
A girl can dream.
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"How would I know what it looks like?" She scoffs and leans her head back, closes her eyes. Feels sorta like she's in gentle motion, a boat rocking back and forth on the waves, though she knows she isn't. "Maybe he doesn't even have one."
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"You wouldn't, but you've officially put the most thought into it of the two of us."
She's teasing, her eyes lazy and bright. She stretches her legs out a little further, and tips her head back to stare at the ceiling. "Sex with guys is... overrated, anyway."
Her hot take.
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"No," she argues, "you did, when you made me play this dumb game in the first place." She's conveniently forgetting that she was the one who brought up Maul's dick and what it might look like, but if Abby knows anything about her, it's that she'll never admit to being wrong about it.
And anyway, there's a new and much better topic of discussion, so. Clarisse opens her eyes and sits up, maybe a liiittle more enthusiastic-seeming than she intends. Her cheeks are even a tiny bit redder than they were a second ago. "Yes. Gods, it's so much better with girls."
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"Yeah," she agrees, even though her experience with girls boils down to the grand total of: none, "It's– girls are..."
Thoughts... Abby isn't really sure what she's going for. She makes a vague shape in the air with both hands. "Soft."
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