Pᴇᴛᴇʀ Pᴀʀᴋᴇʀ. (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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entrancelogs2017-11-14 03:02 pm
saved) wrote in entrancelogs2017-11-14 03:02 pm
[ota] when did i become so numb?
Who: Peter Parker and You.
Where: Outside/His room
When: 11/13 -> 11/20
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Peter returns from his canon update as a wreck. Approach with caution. Feel free to approach him outside, in the hallway, or if you know him, go to his room/contact him via device. (Warning: I apologize too if these threads don't go to AC length. He's shutting down and avoiding and tending to lash out. He'll get better and then the CR can build off of these short, emotional bursts. ).
The Story:
♪ It's been a couple weeks since it happened. It replays in his head with perfect clarity whenever he closes his eyes.
There's the desperateness that he reaches out with (webbing flinging out, attaching to her). He can feel the weight of her body against his hand as he tries to pull her up from an endless fall. He hears the crunch of her head hitting the pavement and the snap of her spine splitting in half. Gwen. He killed her in more ways than one. He'll never forget that sound (or that she was about to take a flight and be free to do great things).
He barely leaves his room. Why would he? He's not Spider-man anymore. He functions on the barest of levels because of his aunt- because she already lost Ben ( again because of him. Captain Stacy too. Father and daughter dead, a promise broken. Noticing a pattern? It's him).
A shroud weighs on him as he finds himself outside of the mansion, staring at it, processing it too slow, looking wrecked (like he hasn't eaten much or slept much or put on new clothes today).
A rush of memories spill in like rapids, intermingling strangely with what he has lived the last year or so (it's terrible they're made to forget). He had friends here. He had Mary Jane here. Memories clash together abruptly. None of these people are in his world. She's not in his world. It's just him. Alone.
Peter sinks down to the pavement. Breath catches in his lungs. He punches a hole into the ground, scraping and cracking his knuckles in the process. Tears build in his eyes. When he can move again, it's sharply like he's tightly wound, like he's jagged edges barely bound together, ready to lash out. Blood drips off his hand. He moves through the hallways straight to his room.
For the week, he stays there. Sometimes answering the door when there's a knock. Sometimes answering his device when someone calls. Sometimes lying in bed and not answering anything at all.
Where: Outside/His room
When: 11/13 -> 11/20
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Peter returns from his canon update as a wreck. Approach with caution. Feel free to approach him outside, in the hallway, or if you know him, go to his room/contact him via device. (Warning: I apologize too if these threads don't go to AC length. He's shutting down and avoiding and tending to lash out. He'll get better and then the CR can build off of these short, emotional bursts. ).
The Story:
♪ It's been a couple weeks since it happened. It replays in his head with perfect clarity whenever he closes his eyes.
There's the desperateness that he reaches out with (webbing flinging out, attaching to her). He can feel the weight of her body against his hand as he tries to pull her up from an endless fall. He hears the crunch of her head hitting the pavement and the snap of her spine splitting in half. Gwen. He killed her in more ways than one. He'll never forget that sound (or that she was about to take a flight and be free to do great things).
He barely leaves his room. Why would he? He's not Spider-man anymore. He functions on the barest of levels because of his aunt- because she already lost Ben ( again because of him. Captain Stacy too. Father and daughter dead, a promise broken. Noticing a pattern? It's him).
A shroud weighs on him as he finds himself outside of the mansion, staring at it, processing it too slow, looking wrecked (like he hasn't eaten much or slept much or put on new clothes today).
A rush of memories spill in like rapids, intermingling strangely with what he has lived the last year or so (it's terrible they're made to forget). He had friends here. He had Mary Jane here. Memories clash together abruptly. None of these people are in his world. She's not in his world. It's just him. Alone.
Peter sinks down to the pavement. Breath catches in his lungs. He punches a hole into the ground, scraping and cracking his knuckles in the process. Tears build in his eyes. When he can move again, it's sharply like he's tightly wound, like he's jagged edges barely bound together, ready to lash out. Blood drips off his hand. He moves through the hallways straight to his room.
For the week, he stays there. Sometimes answering the door when there's a knock. Sometimes answering his device when someone calls. Sometimes lying in bed and not answering anything at all.