🕸️

the anarchic spider-punk,    feat.    @mesothelae !
            
            /hobie/.    i gotta de-stress somehow,    mate.    *    the correction comes as second nature by now—    /he's/    not hobart,    his father is.    maybe that's where the disconnection had started.    grunting,    hobie flops on to the bed    &    picks the half-smoked blunt from an ash tray,    raising it to their lips.    *    you sittin'    or wot?

@websriot        guess you could say that.   [hobie’s right,    some mysterious man wearing designer just entered their apartment.    he definitely looks like an outsider (he is).    when they enter hobe’s room,   his face turns all the way up at the scent of weed.]      hobart—-     dude..    

the anarchic spider-punk,    feat.    @mesothelae !
            
            's not what you're used to,    though,    right?    *    a small,    amused smile tugs at hobie's lips at the sight—    like aeri's just entered a bad neighbourhood    ( which he has ),    &    is afraid of getting mugged    ( which is entirely possible ).    *    calm down.    everyone here's chill.    half of    'em are more scared o'    you than you are o'    them.

the anarchic spider-punk,    feat.    @mesothelae !
            
            *    as much as he may want to,    hobie doesn't pull away.    even as aeri reaches for their hand,    they don't pull back—    instead,    they just clench their jaw.    *    'm not goin'    back,    mate.    i can't.    i got...    i got $!)? t'    do.    i ain't gonna let what—    what happened to manny happen t'    anyone else.

@websriot        [e hesitates for a moment before reaching out to gently grasp hobie’s shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze.   same hand drags from their shoulder down their arm and to their hand.]      i won’t.    (  ..  )     have you thought about coming back..    ?     to spider-society.    a lot of people miss you.   

the anarchic spider-punk,    feat.    @mesothelae !
            
            's fine.    robbie had extra lyin'    around,    n'    he owes me one,    so he just gave it t'    me.    almost got caught by the coppers a few times,    though.    *    despite himself,    hobie does crack a small smile in response to aeri's.    they can't help it,    after all.    *    jus'    don't use it all at once.    or do.    i'm not your mum.

*   <3

*  witty banter!

i.    on winnie

in unprecedented synchronization, gwen, too, smiles. a breathless little chuckle moves its airy way past lungs to travel through airways and come out a defeated chuckle. a glib undercurrent of insincerity often found in small talk in complete absence. whatever pit seemed to form at the depths of her muscle tissue seems to dissipate for the split second she catches a glimpse ‘pon unmasked visage. hobie’s feels like the first real face she’s seen in weeks. maybe months. one not yet waned into memory. a cancer stick’s plucked out his digits offering from the worn box, the ends nearly wet and barely holding onto shape. the tobacco here didn’t taste the same as it did in bruxelles, somehow nothing ever did since her dad’s passing. a pause. she keeps the cigarette caged in between whitened fingers.   “this is all i have left.”   dismay’s dissipated to loneliness, grief, helplessness. the sound of pyotr pavlov’s whips was now evanescent. but the world around her  — around them —  seemed to keep moving. she figured she ran on time constraints, but that she should run nonetheless.   “i like it,”   there’s an unshakeable sadness in her speech, woe bottled up in a tiny glass bottle. gwen tries to emulate a smile of her mother’s once more, but her memory can’t seem to hold onto helene stacy’s laugh lines.   “no matter how lonely.   (..)   but turning down an invite’s rude.”   oh, so she could joke now?   “it’d be nice to stop by. meet everyone, stop by manny.”

the anarchic spider-punk,    feat.    @ogblond !
            
            hobie doesn't believe in fate—    he never has—    but the way gwen says it makes him want to.    ❛❛ not easy t'    get along with—    that's an understatement,    innit? ❜❜    for the first time all night,    their lips quirk upward in a smile,    amused yet tinged with something blue.    upset,    maybe.    whatever it is,    it buries so deep into hobie's chest that they have to stretch their back out until something pops,    releasing a hiss of air through clenched teeth.    that feeling in his chest doesn't budge.    watch beeps,    but hobie ignores it.    they've been getting better at being selfish.    ❛❛ ...    listen,    uh.    i bet it gets...    lonely here.    dunnit?    every spidey comin'    &    goin',    nobody sticking    'round longer'n necessary. ❜❜    long,    gloved fingernails fidget around in one of his seemingly-infinite pockets,    until they close around an old,    beaten carton of cigarettes,    empty save for three sticks.    one is offered out to gwen,    another is held between their teeth.    ❛❛ if you ever...    get too lonely,    y'should let me know.    you can crash in my universe whenever.    it's,    uh,    not...    /good/,    but it's better'n bein'    lonely all the time. ❜❜    a beat.    ❛❛ think my mates'd like ya.    manny would've,    too. ❜❜

to be so young and mournful over a life she would never live. had someone told her she’d died then and there, gwen would’ve naïvely been convinced. nothing else had come close to the pitted seething, growling ache at the very pits of each tunnel of her arteries. perhaps the news of her own father’s passing. the imagery flashing, pessimistic, displaying side by side graves. father and daughter, mother over the transatlantic and long rotten:   père de gwenaëlle, enfant de georges. regretté de tous. memorialized anecdotes. the easter egged deceased.   “i don’t think i’m an easy person to get along with.. but you aren’t either.”   the city’s lights bring her back to life, the colors pulling gwen from morbid visions of near—future. so does seeing his form by the side of her eye; breathing, moving.   “so, yeah.. maybe we would have.”   most of the other spiders whom’d had the misfortune of landing with her as damsel seemed to find her inconsolable. the feeling was mutual, of course, gwen seemed to gray out like burdened skies when it came to the greater responsibilities of spider—men. hardly hobie though, it seemed.   “maybe that’s why we met now.”

@websriot,             I am, i even thought of dedicating my life to comedy rather than crime.      [Another joke, one that causes Felicia’s shoulders to lift into a shrug. eyes connected back to the foreign object,]         oh?  Guess someone’s going to be in trouble. I don’t want to be around for that, i still want to keep all nine of my lives intact. You know?      [a wink, and a grin.]       Not really, what if it blinks you out of existence?

the anarchic spider-punk,    feat.    @clawnmark !
            
            ...    oh,    ha ha.    you're a little comedian,    ain't ya?    *    hobie's nose scrunches in mock distaste,    &    they pocket the object,    pressing a shoulder into the wall beside them.    head tilts as he stares down at felicia.    *    no clue.    stole it    'cos it looks cool.    's mine    'til miggy figures out i took it,    i'd say.    why?    y'want one?

@websriot,         oh! i think i see a crack coming through.      [a hand goes to cover their mouth. eyes wide with mocking shock, before lips pull into a grin.]       i’m kidding. just what is it though?    /relax/, i won’t be taking it from you anytime soon.

+ punches u

/    i got u <3    @SP1DERBE4TS

ID.  @websriot 
            
            * ╱╱  tried adding & didn't work

the anarchic spider-punk,    feat.    @spdrbytes !
            
            nunya.    ( ... )    there's another kraven runnin'    around my universe.    ain't mine,    n'...    he's scarin'    the kids.    i really wish i didn't,    but i need your help.

@websriot,            [Felicia’s nose scrunches, if it were some poor attempt at a joke, it definitely wouldn’t make them laugh.]        nevermind that, how about dinner?  I know you have it in you,       [a smile rises, a hand rises to rest their chin on.]       Sure, I’ll help you out. i just expect a little more later, does that sound good?

the anarchic spider-punk,    feat.    @clawnmark !
            
            ...    honest t'    anarchy,    i didn't think i'd get this far.    *    hobie's grin grows,    hand moving around to scratch at the back of their neck.    *    i got...    a six-pack of beer,    couple ciggies,    backstage pass t'    the gig,    bag o'    green,    guitar pick,    n'...    *    patting down his pockets,    hobie eventually tugs out a wad of cash.    *    ...    like,    at least two bucks.

@websriot,           has it been working? or am i just a hard one to resist.      [nose scrunches, arms crossing against their chest as they listened.]       so, you want me to get chased around a little bit? maybe rough up some of them in the process    ..       [a hand presses to their jaw, as if they had to think some more.]       that depends, what do you have to offer? i can’t do this without getting something in return. that would mean i’d be doing it for free, and you know that’s just not how this cat works.

/  your honor in my client’s defense omgggg who caressss

ID.  @websriot 
            
            * ╱╱  AS HE SHOULD !!!!!!!!!!!!!

ID.  @websriot 
            
            * ╱╱  :))))))

❲  ➢ ┊    on @chronicFEATS  

&.    if im not too late