Earth 42

What makes someone human?

Well, if you asked psychologists, they'd say bipedalism, language, and tool making.

If you asked almost anyone from Earth 42, they’d say that there isn’t exactly such a thing as being human. It’s the same thing as being any other species of animal. You don’t exactly ask a cat what makes it a cat. That, or they’d just tell you to fuck off and carry on with your day. Both reasonable responses.

But notice the emphasis on ALMOST anyone.

There is someone that’d actually give you a philosophical answer in response, that person being (Y/N) (L/N).

“What makes you human is your consciousness,” They might say. “Having emotional traits and stuff is nice and all, but if you kick a dog, they’d get just as mad at you as a human would. Humans are primal to their core. They are selfish, greedy, lustful, violent, and gluttonous, but they have the brain power to be aware of these flaws.”

But, then, they might follow it up with, “But, what good is being aware of your flaws or primal instincts if you do nothing to stop it? If a person is bad and knows it and doesn’t stop, that doesn’t make them any less bad then someone who doesn’t know it. So, at the end of the day, we are just animals. Filthy, shameless animals.”

…Kinda odd that they had a whole paragraph prepared for that question, but go off, bestie…Even if it is a bit hypocritical.

You see, (Y/N) (L/N) ain't no different from all those other people on Earth 42. Their answer may be different, but they aren’t. You see, being raised in a violent, corrupt, oppressive, almost dystopian society is gonna stick to anyone, no matter how strong their morals are. If you have to fight and break laws to survive, you’re going to do that. Ironically, just how much (Y/N) is aware of that doesn’t exactly change the fact that they do it. They don’t exactly practice what they preach. Guess they are just as much of a filthy shameless animal as everyone else.

Speaking of the little animal right now, you’d find them to be…rather busy.

Busy doing what?? Oh, y’know, just extorting people of their overdue loans from their boss Aaron Davis. Just a normal friday afternoon doing normal friday afternoon things.

Brandishing their switchblade with a disinterested glint in their eyes, (Y/N) looked down at the middle aged man beneath them, crumbled down on the streets chillingly icy concrete grounding, as if they had better things to do and this was an inconvenience to them, rather than the man with a busted lip, awkwardly bent nose, and bloodshot eyes from the tears he shed…Or from the substances he might've taken before this. Both seemed like plausible reasons in (Y/N)’s eyes.

“Y'know, this really is starting to grow tiresome, dude. Prowler and Davis expect this now. You can’t just decide to hand it over when it’s convenient for you.” (Y/N) stated, rolling their shoulders back, loosening up the limbs for what’s to come next. They twirled the switchblade in their left hand, dancing it around their fingers until its bladed tip was pointed down to the ground, at the victim of its wrath, spoiling what was going to come.

“I told you, asshole!! I. Don’t. Have. It. Am I supposed to just pull a wad of cash out my ass?!”
The man wheezed through his swollen lips, his fury only barely masking the waver in his tone as he stared up at his attacker. He could sense the imminent threat of death lurking right above him, but it wasn’t enough to deter him from hiding. He would fight, and if he couldn't, he'd make it so even if or when he died, he wouldn't go out without his dignity. He wouldn't plead for more time, he wouldn't grovel at the spider dressed assholes feet, he refused to be playing a docile part of what he assumed to be this persons murder fantasy.

(Y/N) let out a low, tired groan, their fingers pinching at their masked bride of their nose. The smell of rotting garbage was thick in the air of the street. That, or it was something else rotting...something more organic. It wouldn't surprise them. This world went to shit as soon as Kingpin got in charge, and now people didn't even bother to hide their crimes, simply doing them on the sidewalk in front of everyon--

Oh.

They suppose they have no room to talk..

"No. You're SUPPOSED to be prepared when you make a deal with someone!! How big of a dumbass do you have to be?! We got those assholes off your back so now you-- Oh, why am i wasting my breath?? It won't matter." (Y/N) let a soft low sigh fall from their lips as they moved forwards, crouching awkwardly on top of the man with their armed hand held high. Their position was awkward, they were sure of it, but they didn’t exactly know how to fix it. True, they work for Davis and his nephew, but they never exactly had to do the dirty parts of the work, all they had to do was rough them up a bit from time to time and give the whole money spiel. They weren’t shy to say that they were spoiled, getting the best parts of the job, thanks to being in good graces with the two.

But now wasn’t really one of those times where they are spoiled.

Now here's the worst part. They always hated this part, it was the messiest and the most complex. Usually Miles has this part covered but he was with his amá to deter her curiosity about his constant outings with them and Aaron.

"Now...How do I do this without...y'know, making it last too long?? Davis said it was the head, right?? No, no..Definitely the chest--Oh, but i don't know if the knife is long enough.." (Y/N) spoke, their voice barely above a whisper as they debated with themselves on how to do things, unsure of their capabilities. They dragged the blade's tip from the head down to the man's heart, the switchblade's tip just barely poking through the thin fabric of his clothing. "Oh, but there'd be too much blood.."

"...Are you kidding me? You can't even do your own job? What?? Is Aaron so pathetic he had to hire kids to do his dirty work--" (Y/N) shut the man up, shifting their position so their knee was on the man's gut, pressing down into his upper abdomen. Their arm remained up, the point of the dagger digging into his ribs.

"You don't get to talk about what's pathetic." (Y/N) sneered, their eyes may be covered, but the rage and disgust that was held in them wasn't. "You don't get to talk about Davis." The uncertainty in their demeanor was gone. The man's words had set them off, giving them the push they needed to finish the job. They didn't care about the mess it would make. They were sure there was some humor to be found in how easily that switched up with just a simple taunt, but there was no comedy in this moment.

They were taking a fellow human's life. Their mind couldn’t even fully wrap around at how fucked up that concept was. They don’t get to decide who stops breathing and who keeps on, and here they are, casually resting atop a man with the look of fear and rage in his eyes.

They wonder how long it will take for them to forget about this job.

A week? Month?

Actually, that wasn’t really important. This man tried to pull a fast one on their bosses, on their family. He can’t get away with that. They needed that money. Rio needed that money.

…

If the world could take Jeff so easily, then they are sure they could take this man’s life just as easily. That’s just how life was. Life wasn’t kind. Life wasn’t generous.

Life wasn’t fair.

…

…

Y'know what would be really funny right now??

If they just got hit by some lightning.

The world apparently agrees with that sentiment, because as soon as they pushed the blades slick, piercing tip down, a sharp, harsh force kicked itself down their backside, like a boot straight to their spine that made a dull ache wash over their body like a shore consuming the sand before it.

Their lips parted, an appropriate noise of a scream escaping them, but it wasn't one they were used to. It wasn’t their voice. It sounded...pixelated? Distorted? It was warped and constantly changing, morphing itself into something beyond theirs. It was still their same pitch and still had the same accent that they had from years of living through culture, but it was changing constantly, as if it were different versions of themself as well as their own. All screaming together, in a chunky, bundled up mess of synchronicity.

...

What the fuck kind of lightning was this?

Their muscles tensed up, the tendons in their fingers going straight up, refusing to hold onto the blade any longer, letting it clatter to the sidewalk with ease. Their eyes snapped to the arm, but it wasn't theirs. it was constantly changing, distorting and...It was...glitching??

Static blared in their ears, like the white noise of a TV that had been left on. The static was loud, the colors and shapes of their surroundings were blurred. All of this was taking away their vision, their focus, their balance, their mind. The buzzing in their ears drowned their hearing.

Then, suddenly, just as quick as it came, it disappeared.

It stopped and they were normal once more. abnormally so. Their body could move once more, with the blurring colors of their body glitching ceasing, as had the static blaring in their ears. But...they were no longer on the man, or in the streets for that matter. Looking up, they'd find that everything was different, changed.

"What...The....Fuck??" (Y/N) gasped out, breathless and in...quite honestly, a state of shock. Their throat still burned as if it were set aflame, and their muscles tightened and relaxed, convulsing from what they could only assume to be aftershocks. Everything was much brighter than it was just seconds ago. The stench that once ruled air was replaced with the scents of shops using their vents to lure customers in, with doors wide open so people could smell the sweet aromas of food even from outside. The streets no longer looked desolate, abandoned, and dark. There was a new color and the air felt...clean? Like there wasn't a cloud of smog and smoke surrounding the city, covering it in its black tar.

This was still New York...But it wasn't their New York. It was something different. As if a vague version of what their New York could've been.

This was so weird. (Y/N) felt slightly nauseous. This was not their city and they weren't sure they liked it one bit.

"...Miles?....Davis?" (Y/N) called out, looking around for any sign of their partner, their brother or their boss. They weren’t afraid to say their voice wavered, and they weren’t afraid to say they felt their stomach drop at what they got back in return. Nothing.

...

At least nothing they wanted.

There was something–Or, rather, someone. A man, just a casual passerby who was going on carelessly, minding his own business. Well, that was of course until he wasn’t. He stopped almost as soon as he caught a glimpse of (Y/N), looking down at the strangely dressed person who was crouched down and hovering over the sidewalk, most likely looking like they had just popped a squat and were about to make it their toilet. He stayed still, as if his brain were lagging, before a loud gasp croaked out his throat as if remembering something or coming to some sort of realization, his hand moving to his pocket almost instantly as if it were his instinct.

(Y/N) tensed up, quickly backing up, though their nails dug deep into the concrete beneath them, ready to strike and fight out of their own instincts if he were to pull out a weapon like they had expected.

But he didn't.

He pulled out a phone instead.

"Oh my god, It's Spiderman!!"

...Who??

Though, (Y/N) didn't really have time to ask that, as when they tried to part their lips to vocalize such a thought, They were blinded. The bright flash of the camera took over their vision and made it whiter than what they assumed the heavens to be, followed up with that iconic flicker sound effect that came with said flash.

Damn iPhone users.

(Y/N) hissed out, their noise comparable to the one an aggravated animal would make. A hand came up. shielding their face from the blinding light that kept flashing from the phone as the man practically spammed the picture button. Who even needed to use the flash in the middle of the day?! Was he TRYING to make their eyes go out?!

They were stressed, confused, distressed, and quite frankly afraid. People are afraid of the unknown, and this situation they had just gotten thrown into was certainly not a well known concept to them. They felt their chest rising and falling, their panicked and ragged breathing teetering on hyperventilation as they pushed themselves back, almost instinctively. Their pupils constricted, tightening into small black slits, jerkily looking at the man up and down, as if he were a threat.

He very well could be. They knew this world. It was not kind. For all they knew, this spiderman person he clearly had them mistaken with could be in high demand. Maybe that's why he took a picture?? Yeah, that's it. Well, if he really thought they were gonna go without a fight, then he was as much of a fool as he was balding.

They acted quickly and with no thought, simply doing what felt right to stop the flashing and possible attack to come. They leapt forwards, hands shooting out as if they had done something similar a million times before. With harsh, rough and jerky movements, they grab at the phone, snatching it and tossing it to the ground with enough force to most likely shatter the screen. They now stood properly on their feet at their full height, a sneer tightening on their lips, though it wasn't like the civilian could see behind that mask Davis always insisted on them dawning on.

"I don't know who you think you are, asshole." (Y/N) gritted out, feeling like they just ran a marathon with the adrenaline that pumped through their veins. They rose slowly, taking note of how the man jumped back, as if surprised by the aggression and almost even afraid of it. What a weak ploy to get their guard done. "And I don't care. Where am i?? Who are you?? Tell me how to get home. Now." A hand reached forwards, fisting the man’s shirt and yanking him towards them, breaking any type of distance the man tried to bring for safety.

....

"And who the hell is Spiderman??"

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The cold nipping breeze of the air assaulted at the masked face of a black, pink and white clad hero, pushing against her and seeping through the mask and into her skin as she swung, fighting against the force as she swung through the air, thick strings of webbing being her main source of doing so. The wind whipped through her hood, pushing it off her face and sending it flapping behind her. She wasn't ashamed to say she might've been showing off, doing just a tad more tricks than necessary such as acrobatic flips and the like.

What?

Showmanship was all a part of the hero biz. Besides, she wanted to make her time in this dimension a good one before she had to return back to her duties--

'RIIIING'

'RIIIING'

Speak of the devil.

The hero let out an exasperated sigh, ripping her hand down to cut off her web that was going to fling her to the next building over while simultaneously digging her feet into the concrete tiling of the roof she had found herself atop already, skidding herself to a stop and killing her momentum.

“Gwendalyne, we got another one. Anomaly spotted on Earth 1201. You think you got this one covered??” A familiar, staticky voice spoke up, followed up by a hologram glitching to life on the bulky metallic watch on Gwen’s wrist, persuading her to lift it up, her gaze connecting with holographic ones of her mentor, Jessica Drew. The woman’s hazel gaze was distorted into a fine yellow thanks to her visor, but her gaze was still as strong as ever, with her arms crossed over her chest as she stood tall and confident, her body language showing that it wasn’t so much a question as much as it was a kind way of telling her what to do, being translated thoroughly through her hologram form.

“Don’t worry, Jess. I’ll get it under control. Promise.”

Gwen nodded firmly, her feet planting firm on the roof of the building she had perched herself atop, as if she was waiting for a call like this one. Her fingers tapped at the screen of the watch, keeping her words with the Spiderwoman short and sweet, turning on the LYrate Lifeform Approximation system on the device instead, which ended the two's call automatically. The hologram of Jessica fizzled out just as quickly as it came, replaced with a much smaller hologram, this one with color that wasn't tinted with the blue that came with being broadcasted before Gwen brought. She was small, a pocket sized person that appeared to be standing--or rather hovering over the watch.

Girl had drip too.

“Lyla, can I get some information on the anomaly?”

Gwen questioned, tapping on a few keys on the watch screen until she could get the details hovering above her face as Lyla spoke, rolling her eyes and swaying her body from side to side to give them human appearance of boredom, an emotion she lacked despite mimicking it. "No known origin points, appears to be a humanoid with a civilian size build. C class villain, it'd be no problem catching them." She stated. She then continued. "...Not in our system though. It seems they aren't an average threat throughout the universe. It must be just some average Joe. Approach with caution though, they are reported to be violent."

With those words spoken, Gwen nodded and lifted her head, looking directly towards the sky.

"Thanks Lyla, we'll keep you updated."

Gwen then pressed one last key on her watch before ending the call. She let out a tired sigh, looking at the street below her. It was busy, brimming with life, people carrying on with their days without any care in the world. God, how she wished she were one of them.

Just a normal person living their life while ignoring the chaos that surrounds them. She'd like that. A lot. No worrying about her dad, no worrying about the multiverse. Especially not worrying about...Him. Just being a teen girl, doing teen girl things.

Oh well, it did no good to mope and whine. Time to do what she did best. Fight.

She pressed her fingers against the screen of the watch, putting in the coordinates to 1201.

"Shouldn't be too hard. Just some random civilian, yeah? Easy." With a light tap on the screen, the world before her tore open, a hole ripping itself through the universe in front of her. It was a mess of reds, blues, and oranges, and she had grown so accustomed to it, she didn't even bat an eye, simply letting her hand fall down from the weighted bulk of the metallic watch while her other hand grabbed at her mask, pulling it down and fully concealing her face. It’s go time.

Alright, folks.

Let's do this one last time.