Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man

Listening to someone be passionate about what they liked, however, was an entirely different matter. Even when the Force spoke of an apology incoming.

And then, of course, there was something worth noting down, but in concern instead.

"I would welcome those details. Both regarding your people and the way they have blended the technology, and the technology itself. One never knows." He agreed.

Because even if he didn't see any patterns, the Jedi Order had people who would. And thus, it was always worth coming back with as many detailed notes as possible.

The way the other brightened at the idea of seeing the pictures, however, made Yan almost smile. Merely a twitch of his mouth, a small signal in the usual steady cast of his expression. It almost made him want to offer to take him flying, but that would be too much, too fast.

"What happened, when you were last in space?" He asked, and kept his tone deliberately, curiously mild.

At least, where most people couldn't get to. Damage Control or whatever SHIELD was operating as now probably still could if they wanted to, but at least guys like Toombs or anyone else wanting to make things that could hurt people couldn't reach it. Peter really hoped that was the case.

He paused and looked back over at Yan's question, "Oh, that's when we went to find Thanos to try and stop him." it felt like ages ago now, so many things felt like they happened since then. Peter looked back at the light when it changed and started to cross, "A ship with some guys of his came here to get two of the infinity stones and took off for his home planet after, and I was on it." he summed up. Did the Jedi know about things like infinity stones? That had to be in their records somewhere, right? They seemed pretty important and Peter wasn't sure where the others had been but they had to come up somewhere.

It helped that he knew the view, and that he'd already set himself so he could see Peter and the fireworks both, and the latter had been going for some time and would remain ongoing for longer. So if he smiled back, well, so be it.

"You know I have never done anything by halves." He replied. And then, "Where do you usually watch them?" He asked, curious, leaning on the railing too, just the slightest lean.

It didn’t have Harry there with him to watch them either, and he already liked it this way a lot better. It hadn’t been a holiday he and his aunt had celebrated in any major way, past maybe watching ones go off in the neighborhood or seeing them on TV on the local news, but it was easily better like this. Peter leaned in and gave him a short kiss, hearing rather than seeing more additions to the city’s celebrations, “The one here is still a lot better though.” he mumbled, giving one more kiss before pulling back and smiling again, “What about you? Enjoying the view?” it wasn’t missed that the fireworks didn’t seem to be holding much of his boyfriend’s attention.

If the kid's morals didn't agree, it was as simple as moving around him. Or, at the very least, that had been the idea, originally: there was no need to hurt an innocent if it could be helped, and especially not one they wanted to recruit.

And while Tarre had been holding some hope that his people would be convincing, he knew there was something afoot, and not ideally so, when he got a message.

It didn't break through his focus. It was not long and it didn't go into detail, but the moment the cloud dispersed, he could see the shape of it. And the shape of it now included a lot of potentially useful individuals webbed down to several surfaces, and an exhausted Spider -clear in the body, and clear in the senses that spoke to Tarre of life and the living- speaking to his warriors.

And Tarre himself, approaching from the opposite direction, and witnessing the situation before giving the hand signal to move, and get out cleanly, no need to remain, he had this.

"Backwebbing, perhaps." He said, while taking care to keep his tone even, and his posture non-threatening despite the mask. "But that would have implied you were one of us, and you have not signed anything, so I suppose I cannot blame you." He settled for. And then, Regarding the youth, "You know they would not have done the same for you, at all, do you?"

He expected so. He still wanted to see the answer.

@localwebslingers

Waiving that they could call an ambulance for him, that if he caused trouble and started fights they could ask him to leave, that he understood there were rules in the shelter and he was expected to follow them just like everyone else. Those he understood, they made sense when the social worker sat down and went over the form with him since he was a minor. He had no idea what Mandalorians made someone sign to stay with them. Some agreement to help and keep quiet about what happened and not turn against them. Peter didn’t want to sign something to prove he could be trusted or trust someone else. It felt like it was better to just know he could.

He was quiet and looked over at the closest Oscorp worker and pointed, loose and vague with growing exhaustion, “You mean them? That they wouldn’t have stepped in to keep someone else from taking me away? Sure they would have,” he looked back at the man, “can’t test on me themselves if someone else gets to me first.” they would have done something, just not to help him. Peter knew that, aside from FEAST no one wanted to help without it helping them or having some kind of condition. Even the Mandalorians needed something signed first it sounded like. He moved to push off the car to try and leave and swayed slightly with the first steps, “One of your people was hurt and I helped her get to the next street, you should go check on her and the others.”

Billy listened quietly, and a small smile crept over his face. It was true, he didn't like crowds. People at school knew, they thought it went along with his more complex aesthetic, like he was putting on airs trying to be extra, or something.

It was nice, though. Peter seemed to take it seriously. He raised a hand, letting a blue light of magic appear in his palm.

"Did you forget?" Billy asked. "I can keep up with you. The height will be fine."

It wasn’t a far or a difficult trip, though by a slim margin it might have been easier for Billy who didn’t have to find the right spots to shoot webbing, and Peter made sure to motion following him up to help keep both of them from being noticed. Once they were almost at the top, he stopped and started building a stretch of webbing for them to sit on between the cables. Far enough away from the lights decorating the bridge that they weren't blinding or would interfere with watching the show, but still high enough up that it would be hard to notice two figures sitting there. It was a little bigger than he usually made it for himself and when he was done, Peter flopped down onto it and gestured towards the water where the boats could be clearly seen, “What do you think?”

Unlike the original, a telling difference could be spotted in the way that Miguel hauled himself through the skies, gripping tightly and trusting completely in the tensile strength of his own spun webbing as he took a corner at speed. Taloned toes occasionally sheered chunks off of weather beaten facades as he worked to stay in motion, minimising the strain placed on his passenger until he landed in the vicinity of the police station, cracking the pavement beneath his feet.

Eyes automatically veering towards this small act of property damage, it takes Miguel a minute or two to give Parker his attention again, gaze steadily lifting to the other's masked mug in a way that felt flaked with reluctance. "Okay, don't move from this spot in the meantime..." Using terms that, in any other setting, could've easily applied to the criminal on his shoulder, rather than the hero opposite him, Miguel held onto a shred of hope that his words might be heeded as he tended to the business at hand. Crossing the street without looking in either direction, he was before the desired door within seconds, pressing the bound fool against it as he moved around a half-clenched fist, launching globules of organic webbing at the spots where the crook pressed up against the metal.

"I should say something inspiring here, shouldn't I." Given to a self-confession, more for the crook's benefit than that of Peter's, an unability to say something witty, or even crack wise, delayed Miguel's departure by an extra minute or three. It was mercifully broken by the passing of a nearby taxi, headlights cutting through the semi-dark as the Society's leader forced out a cough, pretending to clear his throat before rapping the door with the knuckles of a clenched fist.

Miguel had one new gang leader with a bad attitude and a kinship to caterpillars handled on his own, right? Right.

It wasn’t immediately clear how much was really spent laying there, passively listening to the sounds of the city and yet so used to them that they barely registered at all, but Peter was aware it was enough to that there was still pain in his ribs, and that at least part of his legs were willing to grudgingly admit that things like general sensation maybe weren’t so bad after all. A low bar, but one he would take and work with. Eventually though, he heard Miguel join him back above the sidewalk and reality seemed a little more manageable again so he made a sound of acknowledgement before slowly moving to prop himself upright, "What, worried that they won't come out soon enough?" he asked, looking down towards the ground to see the man still trying to squirm and wiggle free of the webbing. It would be a losing battle, it always was, "But no, I wasn't really planning on it. I was kind of thinking sleep might actually sound good for a change. You know, really catch myself off guard and get more than two hours of it." everything still hurt, and if he wanted it to hurt less by morning, the sooner Peter could get home and properly rest the better.

Another moment passed and the door to the station swung open, with the man still webbed to it, and a detective poked their head out to inspect who was left for them. He looked over at Miguel and shrugged, "Told you, works every time." he defended and carefully eased himself fully upright and closer to the edge. Not ready to drop down and swing off yet, but mentally bracing for the trip back home, "What about you? Needing to find some trouble to get into tonight or you got other places to be now? Pizza offer is still open if you're interested."

"Ph... physically, yes. It was real. The glass was real, and the green house-? The greenhouse I fell through, that was out here, not on The Road, so that was real, too." He said, shoving guilt down his gullet, scratching behind his ear again to avoid looking Peter in the eye.

"Maybe then it doesn't matter. Whatever Vision is out there, he's not my-..." Billy cut himself off. The flashes in his mind... a man, red-faced and smiling with adoration, they were few and far between. His hand clenched by his belly, overtaking it with his dad's face, his glasses and dark hair. Three years. A couple of flashes.

And maybe it was just up to Billy if it mattered or not.

He smiled a little, “You know I honestly wasn’t really registering how scary and crazy it was, and I think I was keeping myself from trying to think about how I was going to get back home. It was pretty cool though. I even got to try and help land it with Tony since we were going too fast and trying not to crash.” Peter gestured vaguely with one hand, “But it was completely just…like abandoned. It looked like something crazy happened, and I mean wasteland levels of crazy, and whatever it was it apparently completely threw the planet off its axis and messed with the gravity. Like in one place you’d be walking around like normal and the next it was exactly like you see in videos of people in space where they can just kinda move through the air. But yeah, it was still cool, you know aside from the whole no idea how to get home and fighting part.”