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riverviewlogs2018-07-19 02:50 am
madeupnames) wrote in riverviewlogs2018-07-19 02:50 am
[OPEN] 5 Times Peter Parker Looked Like He Needed Help + 1 Time He Should Have Needed It
who: Peter Parker and You!
what: Just some prompts.
when: Before July 20th, when he'll be way less sad about [mumbles about Infinity War].
where: See prompts for locations.
warnings: A picture of heights, and some blood from a hand boo-boo. And bullies. Lots of embarrassing Peter stuff I'm sure.
1. Assholes
[Peter Parker ducks his head as he's surrounded in an alleyway between school and the community housing, caught off guard by some local school bullies who seem more eager to torment the too-happy new kid with the terrible social cues. He's playing it safe for now, because if he is anything other than ordinary people might connect dots he doesn't really want connected. They're blabbering like all brainless assholes tend to:
"Nice sweater. Your grandma dress you up before you ran off?"
"Oh man, check out the fucked up shoes."
"Hey, this shortcut has a tollbooth now, Parker."
"I know he's got a tap card on him; shouldn't be telling people in class about that, fucking idiot."
Peter keeps his back to the wall, hands on his backpack straps.]
... Cut it out, guys. Leave me alone.
[He isn't scared — more like worried that he'll have to take a punch or something to keep his cover, because then it'll give them incentive to bother him more. Man, he's starting to miss Flash right about now; the guy was a grade-A dick, but at least he stuck to less physical means of assholery.
Peter's not sure if he's the only one these guys torment; he's betting he isn't.
Spider-Man could've handled this by now, he thinks miserably.]
2. Converse shoes
[Peter Parker presses his face to the shop window, eyeing a new pair of converse-adjacent shoes with almost sparkling eyes. He's wearing two mitchmatched shoes right now — a tennis shoe he got for half-off a few weeks ago and his even older nike sneaker. They're the same color, so obviously it's entirely unnoticable.
You see... he'd have his other sneaker if he didn't accidentally lose it when he kicked it off mid-Spider-Man change. He was in a panic to hurry and help someone dangerously close to where the groundtrams passed by and didn't know his own strength; the nike shoe is probably halfway across the dang city by now.
Nobody to blame but himself, here.
But...!! He's trying really hard not to give in to temptation, because he has to use the cash on his card to buy Bucky Barnes a new pair of shoes after he barfed pancakes on them.
A guy can dream though, right?]
3. Hand Cut
[Picture this: you walk through the community housing, to get to the elevator.
You push the button, and the doors open.
And Peter Parker is standing there casually, on his way down, his whole left hand wrapped up in bloody paper towels.]
Okay, this looks bad, but I swear it's not.
4. Insomnia
[Sometimes the city is just too damn loud. But, like, he's done with Spider-Manning for the night, so people don't think he's a total freak who never sleeps — that leaves him bored and overstimulated by the lights and sounds below. And sometimes it's a little more than that, swirling thoughts about what had happened back home, or something he didn't do quite right last week as Spider-Man, or the cult thing. So he goes up to the community housing rooftops and sits with his feeting hanging out between the railings.
He blows out a sigh.
Then posts a picture, because why not? If he's bored, maybe he can just... talk. Talking helps.]
Look at this view, it's pretty cool. City life is wild down there...!
Really puts a lot into perspective I guess? Insert philosophy essay here?
Also, does anyone know where grumpy uncomfortably scraggly Bucky lives?
I got him some shoes.
5. Attacked By The Local Chatterbox
["Aren't you the sweetest thing? I just wanna eat you up!" It's someone with a weirdly Southern accent, but he's pretty sure she's not Southern because she's not from Earth — she's from some other galaxy where everyone is twice the height of a human and all muscles, so much so they're practically bulging off her arms, under a totally lovely sundress. She'd just arrived to Riverview, and he was giving her directions, but now he's seeing this was a grave mistake.
She pinches his cheeks as she towers over him by a good five feet, and he squirms.]
P-please, Miss—
["Oh, bless your soul. You humans are just the cutest. How old are you now? Four or five? Where's your mother at, you little thing, you?" He sputters in surprise.]
I'm not five! I'm fifteen!
[Fifteen?! By golly, that's old enough to dress yourself in human years, right?!"
S a v e m e.]
+1. Getting Hit By a Car
[Peter Parker is crossing the street, most of the city sleeping now.
Maybe he's hanging out with you, someone he knows pretty well; maybe heading off to get some late-night dinner, because he's always starved, man. Or maybe he's on his own, just casually making his way back to the community housing, and you happen to be there. Maybe he's even stopping the truck that would hit you, if he didn't intervene with his own body.
Either way, a vehicle runs a light — and is flying at Peter and his fellow person so quickly, his Spider senses almost don't read it in time. But when they do, his body jerks into action; he puts both arms out in defense, and the car slams into him at full force.
The hood gets dented, and the truck jerks to a very abrupt stop. The man in the car is cursing and holding his bleeding nose from where he'd hit it on the steering wheel, and Peter Parker is peeling his hands from the indentions they've left on the metal.
... Ummmm.
Ummmmmmmmmmmmmm.
... Shoot.]
what: Just some prompts.
when: Before July 20th, when he'll be way less sad about [mumbles about Infinity War].
where: See prompts for locations.
warnings: A picture of heights, and some blood from a hand boo-boo. And bullies. Lots of embarrassing Peter stuff I'm sure.
1. Assholes
[Peter Parker ducks his head as he's surrounded in an alleyway between school and the community housing, caught off guard by some local school bullies who seem more eager to torment the too-happy new kid with the terrible social cues. He's playing it safe for now, because if he is anything other than ordinary people might connect dots he doesn't really want connected. They're blabbering like all brainless assholes tend to:
"Nice sweater. Your grandma dress you up before you ran off?"
"Oh man, check out the fucked up shoes."
"Hey, this shortcut has a tollbooth now, Parker."
"I know he's got a tap card on him; shouldn't be telling people in class about that, fucking idiot."
Peter keeps his back to the wall, hands on his backpack straps.]
... Cut it out, guys. Leave me alone.
[He isn't scared — more like worried that he'll have to take a punch or something to keep his cover, because then it'll give them incentive to bother him more. Man, he's starting to miss Flash right about now; the guy was a grade-A dick, but at least he stuck to less physical means of assholery.
Peter's not sure if he's the only one these guys torment; he's betting he isn't.
Spider-Man could've handled this by now, he thinks miserably.]
2. Converse shoes
[Peter Parker presses his face to the shop window, eyeing a new pair of converse-adjacent shoes with almost sparkling eyes. He's wearing two mitchmatched shoes right now — a tennis shoe he got for half-off a few weeks ago and his even older nike sneaker. They're the same color, so obviously it's entirely unnoticable.
You see... he'd have his other sneaker if he didn't accidentally lose it when he kicked it off mid-Spider-Man change. He was in a panic to hurry and help someone dangerously close to where the groundtrams passed by and didn't know his own strength; the nike shoe is probably halfway across the dang city by now.
Nobody to blame but himself, here.
But...!! He's trying really hard not to give in to temptation, because he has to use the cash on his card to buy Bucky Barnes a new pair of shoes after he barfed pancakes on them.
A guy can dream though, right?]
3. Hand Cut
[Picture this: you walk through the community housing, to get to the elevator.
You push the button, and the doors open.
And Peter Parker is standing there casually, on his way down, his whole left hand wrapped up in bloody paper towels.]
Okay, this looks bad, but I swear it's not.
4. Insomnia
[Sometimes the city is just too damn loud. But, like, he's done with Spider-Manning for the night, so people don't think he's a total freak who never sleeps — that leaves him bored and overstimulated by the lights and sounds below. And sometimes it's a little more than that, swirling thoughts about what had happened back home, or something he didn't do quite right last week as Spider-Man, or the cult thing. So he goes up to the community housing rooftops and sits with his feeting hanging out between the railings.
He blows out a sigh.
Then posts a picture, because why not? If he's bored, maybe he can just... talk. Talking helps.]
Look at this view, it's pretty cool. City life is wild down there...!
Really puts a lot into perspective I guess? Insert philosophy essay here?
Also, does anyone know where grumpy uncomfortably scraggly Bucky lives?
I got him some shoes.
5. Attacked By The Local Chatterbox
["Aren't you the sweetest thing? I just wanna eat you up!" It's someone with a weirdly Southern accent, but he's pretty sure she's not Southern because she's not from Earth — she's from some other galaxy where everyone is twice the height of a human and all muscles, so much so they're practically bulging off her arms, under a totally lovely sundress. She'd just arrived to Riverview, and he was giving her directions, but now he's seeing this was a grave mistake.
She pinches his cheeks as she towers over him by a good five feet, and he squirms.]
P-please, Miss—
["Oh, bless your soul. You humans are just the cutest. How old are you now? Four or five? Where's your mother at, you little thing, you?" He sputters in surprise.]
I'm not five! I'm fifteen!
[Fifteen?! By golly, that's old enough to dress yourself in human years, right?!"
S a v e m e.]
+1. Getting Hit By a Car
[Peter Parker is crossing the street, most of the city sleeping now.
Maybe he's hanging out with you, someone he knows pretty well; maybe heading off to get some late-night dinner, because he's always starved, man. Or maybe he's on his own, just casually making his way back to the community housing, and you happen to be there. Maybe he's even stopping the truck that would hit you, if he didn't intervene with his own body.
Either way, a vehicle runs a light — and is flying at Peter and his fellow person so quickly, his Spider senses almost don't read it in time. But when they do, his body jerks into action; he puts both arms out in defense, and the car slams into him at full force.
The hood gets dented, and the truck jerks to a very abrupt stop. The man in the car is cursing and holding his bleeding nose from where he'd hit it on the steering wheel, and Peter Parker is peeling his hands from the indentions they've left on the metal.
... Ummmm.
Ummmmmmmmmmmmmm.
... Shoot.]
no subject
That yelp could have shattered a wine glass, Jesus.
But the kid calms down, and after the incredulous stare Peter shoots him, he goes right back to wiping the wound, shaking his head a little. (Rich, really, considering how he similarly flips his fucking lid whenever Gamora has cause to disinfect his wounds.
Cut from the same cloth, are the Peters.)
The explanation satisfies him, though, and he sets the antiseptic wipe aside to press a fresh sterile pad to the kid’s palm. As he’s wrapping gauze around it, ]
So what I’m hearing is— ninja stars? Whatever. Big windows? Your true nemesis.
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I think it's more like momentum is my greatest friend and foe.
[You could literally call his fighting style "momentum" and it make sense.]
Have you never been thrown throw a window before? It's the new hip thing.
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Does a giant hole in a wall count as a window?
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I'm not surprised a skull as thick as yours would punch holes in walls, though.
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[ Said flatly. With the bandaging done, Peter gathers up all the spent materials to toss them away. ]
I was in an old, abandoned temple on a planet called Morag, picking up an ancient artifact. Turns out someone else wanted the same artifact and tried to kill me for it.
Long story short, he blew out a chunk in the wall behind me, and I rocketed myself out to escape.
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You're a real mess-maker, dude. But I guess I've broken a few chimneys in my day, so I can't talk much...
Oh! [A lightbulb goes off over his head; it might as well not even be metaphorical.]
That reminds me! I got you something. For mess-cleaning. I totally would've brought it down, but I was too busy bleeding all over everything.
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Whatever it is the kid is giving him has equal chances of being really thoughtful ooooor a gag gift. Peter's leaning toward gag gift. ]
If you're trying to give me your weird pancake bot, pass.
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What the heck, I’d never give away my beloved Pam...!
Now do you want your super awesome present or not?
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Depends.
Is it gonna make me block you again?
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I don’t think so. It’s super helpful and it doesn’t run on puns.
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[ Peter holds onto his skepticism for a breath or two longer before letting it all out on a sigh. ]
Is there a special occasion I missed, or...?
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Just 'cus. What fun's life if you're not doing stuff for other people?
It'd be boring.
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You literally just got ninja stars thrown at you and smashed yourself through a stationary window.
I think "boring" is kind of beyond your style, kiddo.
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Like I said.
[He enjoys his work — especially now that he feels his own sense of accomplishments, or the rush he can get from catapulting dozens of stories through the air — but this job is only ever because of Uncle Ben and how he'd reminded Peter in his own way that life was about using what you had for the good of others. That was key.
He points at Peter.]
Don't sneak out of a window or something while I'm gone; you don't stick to buildings anyway.
And it's something you're gonna like! Trust me!
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—wait. Aren't patients supposed to get the lollipops for good behavior, and not the doctors?
... oh well. Whatever.
He unwraps the thing and points the bulb at the kid. ]
I promise nothing, and I'll believe it when I see it.
[ Aaand he pops the lollipop into his mouth. ]
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Peter vanishes and returns in just a few minutes (maybe too eagerly) and when he shoulders his way back in he's got something wrapped up in a jacket, which is entirely the wrong way to present a gift — but anyways, he says very sternly:]
Turn around and cover your eyes! You can't see it 'til I've got it ready.
[THIS IS CRUCIAL.
Also he needs to steal one of your cassettes from the counter while you do that.
Whatcha' got, old man.]
no subject
... Seriously?
[ But eventually, he lets out a breath, turning back toward the sink where he's been waiting. He ducks his head, covering his eyes with a hand.
He might literally kill you for touching his Walkman without his express permission, just by reflex. So to avoid permadeath and manslaughter charges, maybe leave it and the tape it houses, Awesome Mix, Vol. 1, alone.
But beside it in two clear cases are Awesome Mix, Vol. 2 (he doesn't play that one as much these days), and another tape with a label in markedly different handwriting.
Go nuts. ]
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♪ OOOH BABY DO YOU KNOW WHAT THAT'S WORTH?! OOOH HEAVEN IS A PLACE ON EARTH! ♪
Peter sounds very content when he holds out his arms to the cleaning, music-blasting roomba and says:]
Here he is, Mr. Blue Sky, the most advanced robot in the galaxy!
[... The scene is actually more like
if we're being honest with ourselves.]
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The noises coming from behind him are deeply worrying. The fact that the kid's present, whatever it is, happened to fit under a jacket does only a little to reassure Peter – Rocket has almost certainly made things smaller and deadlier than whatever it was the kid was carrying. But, okay. Benefit of the doubt, here. The kid probably means well? Or else this has been a seriously convoluted and drawn-out attempt at murder, in which case, well. More power to Little Pete. But then he hears an all too familiar rattle – reels shifting in hard plastic – then the equally familiar ka-chunk of something clicking into place, and then he hears music.
... no. Not just music. That's definitely Peter's music, even if it's a recent addition, and he turns, half-startled and half-curious, to see a weird—
—thing.
And Little Pete, looking proud as hell.
But mostly a thing.
Peter glances between the two of them for a few seconds. One, then the other. Back to the one, then to the other. Then to the counter, which currently holds an empty cassette tape case.
Then, with more than a little trepidation, ]
—What, uh.
What... is it?
[ A beat. ]
And I don't remember saying you could touch my tapes.
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Instead he presents Mr. Blue (shorthand, okay) like a science fair project.]
It's a roomba! A music-playing roomba. Once you turn it on it basically vacuums for you, so you don't have to do much of anything for the floor. And the googly eyes are just for aesthetic.
[Watch it belt out some Belinda Carlisle on a clearly old, recycled cassette player.
Also it just ate an abandoned wrapper off the floor.]
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... Listen, he knows the kid is still learning, and far be it from Peter to criticize on something he knows very little about. But he's seen Pam from videos posted on the network, so excuse the guy for being a little doubtful.
The little thing bumps into a table leg and promptly about-faces, which answers at least one question Peter had. ]
And it just vacuums, right? And— I mean, other than vacuuming and playing music, it doesn't do anything else?
[ Because if that thing has a computerized voice and starts calling him "Space-Prince," Peter might punt it. ]
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Maybe he should've made it... cooler... Or... painted nice colors on it?]
Y-yeah! Of course. It's just a cleaning robot. Is it the eyes? Are they stupid? I can change it up a little if you want it red or... something nicer. Is the sound quality bad?
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[ Okay. Maybe he should put his misgivings aside for a second and worry about possible malfunctions and/or explosions later.
So for now, he brightens his voice. ]
It kinda reminds me of those little dudes on the Death Star. You know which ones I'm talking about?
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[Success, Peter Quill, the boy is pleased and distracted from his own concerns.]
Mr. Blue Sky is the Jedi version of those — we don't associate with the dark side in these parts.
We just clean up messes and make the world a better place.
[The googly eyes jiggle around as he hits a wall delicately, spins, and wanders off to fight more dust bunny crime.]
... Maybe just warn Groot that he's not a burgular or something.
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