#psyder

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Hello!! ad happy holidays!! Next stream is one im really excited for! This batch of dono doodles where you can request any couple (or more) of characters to go under the mistletoe!

The prices are as follows:

you'll be given the option to pay with these three price ranges and will have a selection of my characters (all 18+) or any other characters of your choice! (unless you want to request something a bit more tame (platonic gestures) while also donating more, or if you do not want to opt into the even you will be able to mark that down in the form!)

When do you stop being enemies? Where is the line, and why does it sometimes look so blurry?

Well, mine was a little bit different from the norm. The spider that bit me, well, it wasn't radioactive or genetically engineered, it was charged with a sheer quantity of psychic energy that could have screamed a thought into every mind from Allentown to Montauk, a psi-bomb all in itself wrapped up in a creature with a brain one eight hundred thousandth the size of a human's.

It was the tiny little spider brain that saved me. When the fangs hit my skin, that energy lashed out. Could have reduced all of New York City to a crater, but you can't put a lake through a drinking straw all at once. No, the energy instead earthed itself - not just through me, but into the spider's past, and my past, and even into the branching paths of my future.

For a moment, it was all connected, all laid bare, and then the spider burned itself to a cinder and my brain took a hammerblow that knocked me out on the spot.

When I woke up, I was home. I'd managed to stagger out on autopilot, or something - hell, maybe teleported here, I've never been able to figure that one out. My subconscious spun a psionic web around itself, encased me for a solid twelve hours while my body did its best to tear itself to pieces.

I don't remember much of it. Mostly, I was trying to remember how not to be a spider, drowning in the tiny memories of millions of spiders past, unmoored - the memory of the house helped, I think. Maybe that's where the psychometry comes from, helps ground me into something that's been where it is, being what it's being, for decades or longer.

When I woke up, the cocoon faded. I wasn't dead, and I was starving. Went to grab a leftover burger from the fridge and got a mindful of cow memories... Right up to the slaughterhouse.

Scorpion: Maddie Jefferson, mercenary for hire. Tall, muscular, and scarred, with dreads, cybernetic augmentation, and a bit of a kinky streak. She's been hired to fight the Psyder a few times, but it's turned into a little bit of a nemesis/rival thing over time, and she's no longer sure whether she'd rather beat down the Psyder or share a drink with them. Little bit of an enemies to lovers thing going on.

The Rhino tossed his head, yanking the startled Psyder clear off of the ground and across what had once been quite a nice little park and was now mostly flying debris, caught in the villain's psi-storm. An inarticulate bellow of rage, both voiced and telepathic, made the hero's head ring, and they were just a bit too slow with a dodge, a fragment of granite statuary glancing off their back and driving the breath from them with the impact. Concentration broken, the web-line flickered and faded.

Thankfully, even with lungs suddenly screaming for air, arachnid reflexes couldn't be beat. Fingers slapped firmly against the wall of a building and the Psyder flattened themselves against it, one hand reaching back to check for blood or broken bones - none this time, they were pretty sure. Time to take a breath and reevaluate the situation.

"The zoo ain't that bad, is it? And it's not like you're going to find another savannah that nice in the city, not at Manhattan prices -"

Suddenly, a whole taxi was flying at them, driver open-mouthed and clutching desperately at the useless steering wheel.