Spider-Gwen 2 || Hanging by a Thread

Draw Blood || Gwen Stacy

"The sun is my enemy today; I'm running from the misery like there's no tomorrow"

-Disciple, The Warning

Fall was beginning to turn to winter in New York City. Far below the Chrysler Building, the city's residents were already beginning to bundle up as the temperatures dropped-nearly every individual was donned in scarves or heavy coats as they shuffled about to reach the day's next destination. But far above them was the only citizen of the city that could manage without heavier clothing for today.

So glad the new suit has built-in heating, Gwen Stacy thought to herself as she remained perched near the top of the iconic skyscraper. The dark, sleek substance of her new suit somehow managed to keep her body heated, almost like a warm hug from a living person. Gwen had her mask off and her cowl off for the time being-even though she loved the look of her suit with the mask, sometimes it felt nice to feel the air on her face when she was far enough away from any prying eyes that would try to recognize her.

She was listening intently to her earbuds that were hooked up to her father's old police scanner, waiting patiently for anything that sounded like it required her intervention. Ever since the release of the Midtown Prom Incident's security tapes, Gwen had returned to her old methods of patrolling and monitoring the city for any crime that she could stop in its tracks. Her name was cleared, and she was beloved by the city once again.

Same can't be said for Oscorp... Gwen mused internally, her eyes drifting to Oscorp Tower in the distance. Their shady connection to the incident via the tapes had resulted in a ton of backlash-some major corporations had publicly announced that they would no longer use Oscorp products until further notice, and the public's righteous fury over the deaths of Owen and Peter had shifted from Ghost Spider to the fat cats of the scientific research company.

All the change that had followed Gwen in the last week or so had made the whole city feel different. Even though she felt safer now, there were still a lot of questions that she wanted answered...

Namely, what the heck is this thing I'm wearing??

The blonde held out her hand, looking at the dark substance that coated her old suit. Gwen had seen Felicia use this... thing... to produce attacks featuring a superpowered black ooze that surpassed even her own spider-powered strength. And, when Gwen had gotten cornered by the police recently, she'd inadvertently unleashed that power herself.

She wiggled her fingers, trying to meditate on the new sensations inside-the odd feeling of not being alone that Gwen had felt ever since this mysterious substance had bonded with her form. Her brow furrowed, and she flexed her fingers. Immediately, small lines of black slime began to emerge from the suit, crawling around her fingers and hovering aimlessly off her fingertips-not too dissimilar from the metal arms of the tritium stabilizer that Gwen had developed for Dr. Octavius.

I wonder... Gwen pondered, turning her hand over and studying the black tendrils. ...How much control I can have over this stuff?

She stretched her fingers out, her brain constructing an image of the tendrils forming fierce claws around her fingers. As if on cue, they did just that-elongating and bonding as her gloved hand morphed into set of vicious claws-each one at least eight inches in length.

Phew... Gwen thought, smiling to herself and letting her hand return back to normal. ...That's going to come in handy at some point.

"That's some suit of yours, isn't it?"

A distorted voice made Gwen's frame lock up, and a tense breath shot from her lips as she slowly turned her head in its direction.

"Of course... I'm assuming a lot by saying that it is indeed yours, am I not?" About fifteen feet away was the source of the voice-an imposing figure, decked in full body armor with a black, purple, and green color scheme. An intimidating gauntlet was on either hand, and the newcomer was making a sharp, piercing metal scratch noise as he swiftly scraped the claws on his right hand against each other.