It never felt like it would get warmer in Gotham even inside the GCU. I pulled my jacket tighter across my arms. Today I would get a chance. I would make a chance. The creased photocopied photograph that was stuffed inside my pocket burned a hole into my mind. I sighed before opening my eyes. Reaching my hand to answer the call. Monotonous. But it would be worth it. I'd never have gotten this close so soon if I went the same path as my father. Maybe I should have stared a little harder when I was in S.T.A.R Labs.
But I didn't want the life my father had. I don't think I could bear to look Mama in the eyes if I did. Saying 'Look, Mama. I'm just like Dad.' Wrapped in a white coat and the same old-fashioned glasses. Although I was being a hypocrite. I was living the life my father had. I stuck my nose into every cry for help. At least I wasn't alone. I could give my mother that mercy.
Ahh. Perhaps it wasn't a good idea to be so wrapped up in my thoughts so often. It's not like the caller noticed so I shrugged it off. It is horribly stuffy in here. Peter. Yes, I'm aware. I tried to covey this with a raise of my brow, but Peter still didn't care to Interpret human facial expressions. So, I whispered instead. "Just a lil' longer, then I'll need you to do that thin' we talked about."
Peter grumbled. He wasn't exactly thrilled to be anywhere near GCU, but it was necessary. Yes, yes. You want me, this spider, to go into the room down the hall and let you know where the metal sticks are. I could theoretically pause the tracking in my suit to do it tonight. But I knew for a fact that a good half of that team would be able to track me down and Babs would be upset I'm doing this alone. Best to not let her know I was doing it last time I was in Gotham either. Hell before I got my...abilities.
Peter would get a nice fat, juicy, and wriggly bug in return for following this mere mortal's whims. If spiders could salivate, I'm sure I would be driven crazy by Peter's. I could, however, hear him talking to himself—sounding an awful lot like Gollum in Lord of the Rings. Wriggly Fly. Oh, juicy beetles. So crunchy and delightful. I will rip off your head and decorate your carcass with my webs. A moth to complete the meal. Ne'er did a spider want more.
Anyways.... I let him crawl down my pants leg and scurry to the crown molding before he was stepped on. Please bring good news. I leaned back in my chair and went back to what I was getting paid for. Man, it still smelt burnt in here. Wouldn't be so bad if the varnish wasn't making me want to hurl. 0/10 will be complaining later today. Plus, it would be some incentive to knock around some Freaks.
My stomach was threatening to devour me inside out when Peter returned. There were NO bugs in that room! If spiders could glower, he was. But I felt no pity since I hadn't made that promise. "I can't imagine there would be." I murmured, allowing the orb weaver to crawl into my hand. It was offensive! How can there be no wrigglies and crunchies! Peter lamented. I hummed and leaned back in my chair. "So? The keys?" I pressed. The metal sticks are lying on the flippy things. "I 'ppreciate it, Peter."
One step closer. Alright time to eat before I strangle someone. Probably Jason. I swear to God he was eating my snacks in the Belfry. I could smell it on him.
That fucker definitely was. And it was definitely something I was ruminating over. I needed my snacks! All this extra webwork and carrying out justice was carving me into being as feeble as Peter! Ughhh, my back was gonna kill me before some crook did. Once things started to slow down for the day, I could sneak the keys. Could I have picked the lock? Yes. Could I have also grabbed the spare keys I definitely knew were in the main office? Yes. But both options could leave traces that led back to me.
No. Today, I would make a copy of the key. It didn't need to last. It wouldn't do me any good to be caught with it either. So, it would be something temporary. Wood might be the best option. Another metal means I'd have to transform it into something else. And materials like crayons and wax might break off with the university's shitty locks.
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Fowl tongue, have my words
FanfictionBriar was cursed. There's no doubt about it. Her father was cursed and when he died it only seemed fair inherited it. And when she was bit at 15, that was fine. She lived. And when Barbara asked her to help her in Gotham, well, there were some thing...
