[ open & closed ]

[kindofamazing]

Who: Peter Parker kindofamazing
What: Oh you know, just Peter re-finding his footing again
When: Early May
Where: Central City
Content Warnings: Almost certainly some angst. Maybe badly timed Spider-Jokes.



[ open: don't thwip and text ]

[One day, Peter will make sense of the weird, bending reality of this world they've found themselves in that slips just beyond what's been proposed in string theory and still currently feels like Ball of Yarn Attacked By Kittens theory. But today is not that day, and tomorrow isn't looking too great either.

What he can do though, while swinging his way through the streets of Central City, is multitask with trying to catch himself up with all the things he's somehow missed over the last two or three weeks as he furiously scrolls back through the network on his phone, muttering to himself.]

How is this even-- Wait, did that-- Oh, come on! Are you kidding me!

[There's a reason they say don't text and drive and maybe in a place like this it should be extended to don't swing and text. Or fly, if you're into that. But in any case, a high speed, between-buildings collision may be right around the corner... Spider Sense only really works for real threats, not being a distracted moron.]

[ open: donut mess around ]

[Okay, okay. So lesson learned, time for a pause and an attempt to breathe as he drops down to street level, taking just a moment or two to just kind of hold his head in his hands and tilt his head back with a long, deep groan.]

I hate you, Gabriele Veneziano...

[It's not Veneziano's fault. It's really not. He knows it's not, but that seems as good a place to nebulously throw his frustrations as anywhere else.

Then, his eyes focus through the visor the mask and between the cracks of his fingers as a soft, pink neon light filters through and he gives out a soft, hollow chuckle that's a lot closer to a sob than he'd like as he lets gravity pull his body back forward and hangs his arms by his sides.

And then, he walks to the door, pausing abruptly before actually crashing into someone else heading in this time and instead holding the door open for them.]

Hey, you want a donut? I'm buying anyway so... You know. Sharing is caring or... something, right?

[ closed: ikols ]

[It's been non-stop. Non-stop trying to work out where he'd reappeared after apparently blipping into some weird stasis or whatever happened for close to a month out of nowhere. Non-stop trying to find his way to more secure signal and a way back to Central City, and trying to just catch up on as much as he's missed via the network as superhumanly possible. Non-stop through a flurry of blind, stupid panic that has him getting donuts of all damn things and not even stopping by his own apartment because there is somewhere else he needs to be.

There is something Loki has made exceedingly clear since their very first chance meeting and various whirlwind meetings since: consent is everything. And Peter respects that. In more ways than he probably realised before. And in this particular moment, one area has been closed off in quite a literal way--no more open, free-access window. No dropping in without notice. That's not an option anymore.

Maybe he should have gone back to his apartment first, attempted some brand of freshening up rather than a quick change into civilian clothes the alley not far from Loki's place. Hell, he could have combed his hair properly instead of trying to rake his fingers through it a few times in his hyper-nervous circling around second guessing in a backstreet with a box of assorted donuts in a plastic bag that's looped over one wrist.

... What the hell must he look like right now? Someone's probably going to call the cops.]

Get it together, Parker. Just--

[A deep, refocusing exhale with air leaving hollowing cheeks leaves his lungs before he spins and just jabs the intercom of Loki's apartment with enough nervous force it leaves a crack through the button. ... Yeah. Wow. Okay. He hasn't done that in, what, almost ten years? Cool. Very cool.]