c2
Which, if he could, like feel his legs and recognize his surroundings he would’ve. But do you know what is essential in running? Knowing WHERE TO. Peter feels the adrenaline (that he didn’t know was pumping) fading, following with the pain that actually grounded him down here.
“Oooh, a red helmet? Look who’s got a sense of fashion! Wait… Don’t say…. Is this inspired by…. ME?!”
Peter squeals, as happily as he can muster at his state - gotta be honest he probably had the pain in his voice evident with the lack of breath he feels and the hoarseness he hears in his jukebox - his newfound bulletwound squealing (*squelching) with him. But nope, Spider-wit™ never stops in the presence of danger. Peter can feel the annoyance creeping into the red mask despite his mask not being as readable as Peter’s is, holding a gun towards him threateningly (by the way his grip tightened, yeah he is pretty sure the guy is at the very least confused) - the back of his neck starting to flare into his ears as his Spider-sense™ squeezes it’s way back to Peter (which probably was there the whole time anyways, but oh is it bad timing to be feeling it again, spare him from the panic, would you?).
“I tell ya, it's always a pleasant surprise when people new to the field do that. Hero - worship and all that, you know? Your’s is actually the best in a while, well, I mean, except for the lack of the webs and the fact that you don’t have any blue on you - * brief pause, let Peter be theatrical,thankyouverymuch - Unless, you, now wait a goddamn minute…”
As the panic rises, Peter doesn’t even try to stop the words slipping out of his mouth though he knows it would probably make the red-helmet-with-the-motorcycle-definitely-gangster-guy angrier, because that is both what he needs and doesn’t need at the same time - like, yeah, he needs time. And fury covered distraction if possible, though that doesn’t seem likely to happen as the guy doesn’t really break into any action which indicates that he knows how to be cautious despite his annoyance and growing hostility, which is BAD, smart enemy always bad easy rule .
“Don’t tell me that it’s inspired by Iron man! Or, OHMYGOSH, is it Deadpool?”
Peter says as passionately and painfully dumb as he can muster (Hehe, painfully.) exaggerating his act of fake offense, in reality desperately trying to find a way of escape through the corner of his eyes. And in case you ask, yes that is exactly how he takes advantage of his mask - they don’t know if you’re pulling the bombastic side eye card or not. His heart pounds, not exactly able to process the sound information he is receiving through his ears, his enhanced, highly dialed gears not working in his favor. Huh. Not that he can actually manage to distinguish anything but that sounds suspiciously like a person running, getting closer, with some kind of leather jacket to metal brustling together - Oh shit. The red helmet (please say that it’s inspired by me) had a brown leather jacket on, didn’t he?
There is no fucking way I can move a muscle, Peter thinks. He somehow did manage to notice the guy lunging at him despite his sense of the world being absolutely flocked and fuzzy - which Peter thinks that absolutely deserves a trophy of its own - but his body was incredibly wary and frail, not appearance-wise but on an internal level. He literally felt like he just built himself back up from being cremated, and would turn into a pile of ash as soon as he gives in and collapses.
Except Spider-man can’t collapse.
For another second, Peter feels the pain in his abdomen stop - by the way his heartbeat feels he’s pretty sure that his heart has quite literally moved it’s place to down there - covered by the sharp tingle on his back of his head, the feeling that he has grown so used to despite the fact that it probably did contribute to a fair share of his panic attacks. His legs protested hard - no we won’t move, we have a hole in our roof goddamn you - with his OTHER legs kept safely somewhere in his insides. Oh, come on. Peter thinks internally, feeling a slight frustration though he knew they were giving everything they had to simply not fall apart. But there was no time, no time to go to the landlord to ask for a repair job, so (despite the fact that there is an actual gun pointing at him) Peter does the next logical thing to dodge - he webs the helmet on instinct, also webbing the gun before it fires, suddenly time going fast as it’s supposed to be, clearing some of the panic off of him as he gains some control over himself.
“Play nice, Red! You know shooting your friends is bad!”
As his world becomes crystal clear, Peter exclaims, in his “mature enough to say preschool teacher stuff” voice, with a fake irritation just to perfect the act. Yanking the gun out of his hand, Peter - as menacing as always - gives the infamous smile, the one where his mechanical eyes bend into a crescent shaped blade (which is also mentioned as a sweet look regularly, but usually his enemies (or allies) say that “it is physically impossible to make a face that is more annoying than that fucking expression”.), not sure if it would anger the guy as he didn’t give any reaction before. Though Peter really, really could use the distraction and the extra time, he is actually about like, 80 percent sure that the guy wouldn’t burst, or even bat an eye.
“FUCK YOU!”
Ok, alright, jumping to conclusions, really Parker? Also, did he just swear externally without a filter? Not cool. There are kids watching this thing!
“Watch that mouth, Mr. That’s not very nice, now is it?”
Peter says a mockingly firm voice, because, duh, he WAS mocking him, mockingjay. Hm. Mockingjay. Better a nickname than red, gives him more character. As he makes a short act of pretending to think of something with his fingers on his chin and his posture a little loose(no he is not thinking anything either than ohforfuckssakehowdoIslipaway ), Peter internally makes a note of that nickname in his head, and no he is not going to ask if it’s ok to call him so. He glances over his shoulders, subtly as possible, this place - either if it’s New York or not, he bets his monthly savings on it is not but pleaseletmebejustwrongaboutthesethingsforonce (no chance, Parker.), doesn’t really have a ton of high buildings that would potentially give him the benefit of fast and untraceable escape swing. And honestly he isn’t sure if he could manage swinging longer than a few minutes…
So it’s either a swing chase that would probably take a huge toll on him, in a place he doesn’t know if he can even find a place to rest, or that particular higher building that Peter has been side-eyeing so hard. A bit out of reach for his webs, meaning that he would have to pull that little trick of his for extra boost. The feeling of slight disorientation and trance returns, the building looming over him though physically not being able to cast a shadow this far but somehow still managed to psychologically, probably from the pressure of “what if I don’t make it”. After all, it would take a lot out of him with the bullet wound - damn is that a bad place for it to hit. Which one would be more lethal? Peter had no idea. Absolutely spacing out (don’t ask him why - he don’t do why for mental issues.), Peter absentmindedly dodged another bullet by twisting his torso just the right amount instinctively, because he obviously was having an abdomen problem, duh.
“Woah there, man. You don’t like the whole “teacher” thing, huh?”
Peter speaks in a fake surprised tone, naturally finding out what bothers the other man effectively. It is one of his best charms and personalities - angering people - after all. Ok, fine. No time to think anymore. He’ll just have to go for the second, because this guy had shot him mid-air when he was web-slinging, and though he doubted that he could do it again with his Spidey sense back on board, his whole body was sluggish and dull and he couldn’t take any chances. And plus, he’ll get to enjoy the surprised face, even with the mask. (Yes, this is somewhat based on the assumption that this guy doesn’t know him, but he didn’t call him Spider or bug - He said Fuck YOU. And no one says YOU to Spider-man. Especially enemies. Well ok maybe not no one but that bit needed to be a little more luck-based, and besides, this probably made it harder to manage a bullet in him because it lets him move faster and yes he is using way too much space between the parentheses.)
“I don’t.”
Jay murmurs, slightly murderously (Hey that rhymes!). ..But despite the evident anger and hostility in his voice, the man doesn’t fire another bullet. Instead, he manages to shoot a lethal glare, the kind that makes you think that if there was a scientific way to change that force in his eyes to a physical one, it would be able to kill absolutely anything - through his whites on the mask. He’s observing, isn’t he. Oh, hell. Smart enemy always bad. He needs to do something fast, because though his powers aren’t exactly something that anyone could decipher (except like the most obvious ones like the sticking and stuff), he doesn’t find it pleasant when people stare at him like he is a experiment, a guinea pig, something that needs to be captured and studied. Ok fine, he IS more spider than human at this point, but it still feels weird - though he doubts this guy is looking at him like that.
“Welp, it’s been fun and all, Jay. But I have to go. Got a hot date and stuff, ya know?”
Peter doesn’t miss the way Jay flinches at his new nickname.
He lifts an eyebrow. Weird. But convenient, to be honest. Though this is a perfect opportunity to mock him, Peter isn’t THAT stupid enough to miss a chance to flee- especially not when his Spider-sense™ turns itself down to a buzz. Or at least he is too weak to be stupid right now. Here goes nothing, he mutters to himself. A sigh creeps into his voice, his muscles shifting slightly underneath his backbone. Oh fuck no, his legs protest as he sinks down a little bit, his thighs pounding from the muscle movement and strain from his worn out muscles till his knees. The part that attaches his shoulders to his rib cages weirdly detaches, cowering forward for a bit briefly, making the person that watches wonder if this is physically possible or if it is as inhuman as it seems to be. The organs in his body, surprisingly untouched except for the hole in his stomach pushes out four mechanical- looking arms, pointy at the edges, ripping some skin - ok, it kinda does look like shedding - out of his back, without blood seeping out, as if his back was designed to be able to do this, like the legs are part of his organism (which it is.). The movement doesn’t really seem like a transform, without any blood involved and the action completely smooth like it is animated. Like a spider growing out his legs -
A horrified, or more exactly, disturbed sound escapes Jay, his whites wide and his gun lowering like the policemen that stare at the godzilla in kaiju movies. He knows that expression, he can even guess what the guy is gonna say.
“What the @#!$%!”
“WHAT THE FUCK!”
He bursts out into laughter, pushing his all six legs hard towards the high building, adrenaline taking over just enough until it is able to shoot a web towards the top of the building, an absolute skyscraper now that he sees clearer. He twists his body mid air as much as he can, (his legs under his waist, yes his human legs) following his senses as much as possible, probably got a slight scrape down on his thigh but surprisingly intact other than that. As he pulls himself high up into the air, Peter sees something that he knows he won’t forget forever - lights, bright lights underneath his feet weirdly illuminating green and pink onto the foggy sky.