apocalypsehowcomm | Log: I'm Real, I'm real!

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Log: I'm Real, I'm real!

Who: Peter Parker & You!
When: March 13th mid evening, March 14th the morning
Where: Around ADI building
Summary: Peter arrives to the ADI confused, alarmed and injured.
Warnings: Hallucinations, panic attacks, paranoia, descriptions of injuries

A. Illusions - OTA

He sucks in another sharp panicky breath as he curls a hand tightly against his chest. Pain radiates its way through Peter as he staggers out of a supply closet into very plain hallways.

It isn't the dark dim hallways Mysterio projected before, but Peter isn't sure what else Beck actually is capable of. What else can he do? Does he have any other kinds of weaponry on him? Are they even still in that warehouse?

Is Beck just making him walk in circles?

Peter's hands shake as they curl into fists. A frustrated growl escaping him as he picks a direction to stalk down. The adrenaline from earlier is starting to drop. He can feel every bump and bruise he's taken. Even with the padding in his suit protecting him, he can still feel where he's been shot.

"Just stop this! Right now!" He shouts at the quiet hallways. The lack of response does nothing to make Peter feel any better.

Why isn't Quentin Beck just killing him? The man was leading up to that earlier.

Those who encounter Peter will see the teenager pacing the halls, eyes wide and wild. He's glad in an all black tactical suit, a mask with white big lenses on the front that moves with his eyes blinking.

Others could see him ducking into an open office, trying to climb a wall only to slide right off onto the floor. He keeps trying to go up walls and getting more frustrated by the minute.

B. Truths- OTA

After his frankly kind of embarrassing outburst upon arrival, Peter is doing his best to kind of lay low. As low as anyone else just arriving can anyway.

He had been calmed down and shown the ropes, and well. He feels kind of dumb now. A night of sleep also helped a lot. He still feels incredibly sore. He just needs to take it easy. Keep icing his bruises. Normally he heals way faster than this, but he guesses he took a bit of a beating this time.

The fact he's still in costume the next day probably makes it hard to miss him, but he's kind of low on choices right now. Taking the mask off actually helps it be less weird at least. The bruises blossoming on his face likely are hard to miss, but, he can't really do much about those.

Peter is tucked away in a corner of the canteen, picking over some microwave food. It isn't great, but he's starving, and trying to just inhale all of it. He doesn't want to choke on the food. He's already kind of made enough of a scene as it is.

At someone else's approach, he sits up a bit stiffly, but manages an embarrassed thin smile. "Sorry, did I take your table-?"

He scoots one of the plastic colorful chairs back. "I can find another table."

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Peter manages to awkwardly roll off of the floor, clearly hurting in the process but getting to his feet anyway. He starts towards Winter a bit slowly. Peter isn't completely sure he believes the other man, but he needs to investigate.

"I'm sticky. I can usually climb walls." He would normally phrase that a lot better, but in the moment he's too tired to really get it together.

"It's a power," Winter surmises. "Something beyond human. That won't work here unless you scare people." A pause. "And that's a bad thing that you really shouldn't do."

Which, yes, kind of a no-brainer there. But it's specifically bad here.

"...Scare people? Thats... why?" Peter has to ask. He comes to a shaky stop near Winter, but not close enough to touch.

Though the sentiment doesn't completely dissuade him that this isn't somehow related to Mysterio. Beck would want him to terrorize people.

"All powers here come from these. Fear entity. Things. Gods, monsters, something." He shakes his head. "ADI can explain it better than me. But in order to use powers. You have to feed the entity. And feeding them is done by scaring people in a certain way."

He looks down at his metal hand on his mask, looking maybe a hair guilty. "Mine's the Stranger. Fear of. Not-quite-human things. So I have to try to be more like a person so I don't feed it on accident."

"Huh, that's- a lot." Understatement on his part, but Peter manages to find something a little more intelligent to say. "Okay, if this is real, that's something I need to remember."

"I think, you're doing pretty good so far." Says the teenager who was failing around earlier and still doesn't think the situation is real.

Winter doesn't look particularly impressed with the compliment. "I'm probably nothing like the person you remember," he says. "Come on. I should show you to the people who can explain this right. I'm no good at it."

Maybe they'll help him realize it's real, too?

Peter would feel self-conscious about the odd compliment if his head was a little more together. He will likely remember this later and cringe.

For now, he just shakes his head. "I think I'm going to just stay here."

He would rather stay firmly in denial for a little bit longer.

Dammit. Winter hesitates, but then moves further into the little office, giving Peter himself plenty of space. He's certainly not leaving the poor kid in here alone, to either get tormented by fear-entity illusions or just plain lost. "Sit down, then. Tell me your name. And why you usually can stick to walls."

And when he sits, against the wall, he pulls out... a bag of peanut-butter sandwich cookies. Which he holds out for Peter to take.

Peter hesitates for a second before moving to slide down on the floor near Winter. Once he's settled, Peter finally takes off the mask he's been wearing. The exhaustion is plain on his features, as is the bruise starting to take shape around one of his eyes. The teenager looks like he's been through a fight and was on the losing end of it.

"I'm Peter, Peter Parker." He takes one of the cookies. He takes a bite and realizes very quickly how hungry he is. "As long as you don't tell anybody else, sure. I mean, I know you kind of from before, but- you're different here."

"I won't tell anyone else," Winter says dutifully. He also kind of wants to know what this mythical other-him is like, but wall-climbing power comes first.

Peter takes another bite of the peanut butter sandwich cookie, chewing thoughtfully as he tries to figure out how to even summarize it. He's never actually explained it outloud to anyone but May.

"I was on a school field trip when I was a lot younger, I got kinda lost in the building and got bitten by this spider." He says simply enough. The cookie isn't that big, but Peter is trying to make it last.

"I got really sick from the bite, but when I got better I could walk on walls and the ceiling like a spider."

When Peter is halfway through his current cookie, Winter holds the bag out again. You can totally have another, kid. Take two more, even. There's like eight total in the back, and Winter only ate two before running into him, so there's plenty.

He accepts the story with a nod. It's probably not any weirder than memory-wiping chairs and apocalypse monsters. "Is it hard? Climbing walls."

Peter readily reaches out to accept another cookie, not hesitant about eating free food. He had a long day before arriving, and it was only just getting longer. He wonders if he can just take a nap somewhere.

"No, its- really easy. I just kinda stick. I can stick through what I'm wearing too, so I can climb whenever normally." He polishes off his first cookie before moving onto the next.

Sounds more like magic than an actual physical property, if he can do it through clothing. Weird. "Do you ever do it on accident. Just stick to something. And can't let go."

"When I first started, yeah. I would kinda stick to everything." Peter says honestly enough, nibbling on the second cookie in his grasp.

"I got stuck to a door, my bed, I got my hands stuck to each other. It was the worst until I got the hang of it."

"How did you keep that a secret." Because clearly if somebody doesn't want Winter, of all people, telling anyone how he got to be able to climb walls, he must have been keeping the whole thing a secret, back in his world.

Seems like that'd be hard to do if you stuck your own hands together. Winter might find that mental image kind of quietly funny.

"I figured out how to hide the weird new powers after a bit. It took time to adjust to, but, no one really noticed." He answers with a slight shrug. May and Ben had been so busy, and Peter wasn't exactly a kid who needed a lot of supervision at the time.

"I only told my family, my Aunt kind of recently. She never knew until then."

Winter offers the bag of cookies one more time. "How did she take it." Since powers in their world clearly are not like powers in this world, and it's not a horrible, horrifying thing, to be able to use powers because some fear-entity let you.

"Uh. Not good initially." Peter cringes at the memory and ensuing fight. That was one of the worst fights he and May ever had. He understands why, but it wasn't great. "We talked it out, but she was still kind of apprehensive."

"Thank you, but I might end up like eating all your cookies at this rate." Peter manages to remember he probably shouldn't horf down all of Winter's cookies.

"I can always get more," Winter shrugs, and sets the whole bag down closer to Peter than to himself. There's only a couple left, anyhow. "There's a vending machine. And a cafeteria. And my roommate will have dinner ready by the time I get off shift and finish with my trainee for today."

Peter hesitates, clearly tempted by the cookies. "...If you're sure, I mean." Unsurprisingly the teenager is hungry enough to gently reach out for another cookie.

"You train someone-? What do you train them in-?" Peter is genuinely curious if anything, happy to talk about something else for the moment.

"I train a handful of people. Self-defense, mostly. How to get away from an attacker. Some of them have graduated to actually fighting, back." He's proud of his various students and sparring partners. They learn well, even if most of them will never be the kind of fighter he and Yelena are.

"Is it hard to learn self-defense?" Peter questions back, still sorely tempted by the cookies left out between them. He had gotten used to his strength, to his body's new built in agility from the spider bite.

Without it, Peter feels weird.

Winter nudges the bag a little closer to Peter. He's seriously. Eat, kiddo. "No." Well. "It takes dedication. And work. But the basics aren't difficult if you have any understanding of how your body works. Do you want to be one of my trainees, too?"

He has no reason to believe a kid who can climb walls would necessarily know how to defend himself, after all. And a kid who asks if it's hard clearly doesn't know for sure, right? "If you stay," he adds. "If you believe that this is real, now."

Peter reaches out for another cookie, he feels guilty still about just taking food like this, but the nudge is enough to encourage him. "I think so, if- if you want me around anyway." He nibbles at the cookie, just relieved to eat still. "I'm not strong anymore, or fast, I'm just Peter."

He isn't sure if he should be happy about that. Isn't being Peter what he wanted? To be normal?

He's normal, but at the wrong time.

"I... guess it is. I guess it is real."

Log: I'm Real, I'm real!

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