𝙿𝚄𝙽𝙺-𝚁𝙾𝙲𝙺 𝚂𝙿𝙸𝙳𝙴𝚈 ;

# WEBSRIOT :    an independent,    selective writing blog for HOBIE BROWN / SPIDER-MAN,    of marvel comics.    mature themes ahead,    strictly 18+.    penned by chaz    ( 21,    she / they,    gmt ). ALSO FOUND AT: sergei kravinov.

—

what used to be prospect park is always quiet nowadays. before everything went sideways, before osborn, people would come here almost every day to lounge about in the sun & gossip about menial things, hobie's mum used to tell him. dogs would run about chasing each other, kids did the same. some days, she said, there would be live music; she & hobie senior used to dance as long as they could before going home. she'd always talked about it so gently, the same way she talked about old friends she didn't see anymore. hobie never quite understood that.

now, there's nothing that could have even resembled what was in old photographs. most days, the dead or dying grass is covered in smog & waste, piles of rubbish that rivaled the skyline in terms of height. if that hadn't turned people off the place, the smell would have, but somehow, hobie's learned to ignore it all.

alison doesn't get a verbal answer; hobie just moves to the side from where they're crouched, allowing her to do the same if she so desires. they'll never say no to her company. hell, she's the only bright thing left here.

" 's weird, " hobie finds himself saying, lips moving before he even registers the words coming from his mouth, " i never really knew 'im — he died when i was four — but i always... tried t' live up to his name, yanno? keep him alive, in a way. "

they shift in discomfort, not from the gravel scraping up their knees, but from how vulnerable everything feels all of a sudden. nobody knows anything about tiger outside of what hobie's disclosed to them, & now here he is, discussing him like the weather.

—

normally, hobie would say no. it's almost automatic, the way his ego tries to crawl up his throat & out into the open. no, he can do it himself. i'm capable, he wants to say, like logan has suggested otherwise by merely reading between the lines. i can do it myself. i have done it myself.

but the difference between what hobie considers normal & now is this: before, they were running on adrenaline & blood loss, had someone to protect. now, it's just himself: manny is dead & buried, & the man ( if you could even call him that ) responsible just gets to walk, no judgement handed out.

so, hobie makes the hardest decision he thinks he's ever had to: he swallows his pride.

" ... " there's a moment where he hesitates; maybe this is a bad idea. sure, he & logan have crossed paths a few times before, but are they friendly enough for him to ask such a thing? hey, man, thanks for saving my ass a couple weeks back; wanna help me settle a score & kill this asshole? it makes him laugh, the absurdity of the situation. almost.

the apartment has never been this overrun before.    bodies crowd into one another,    sweat-slicked    &    bloodied from the earlier attempt at normality in someplace that had quickly become abnormal.    they'd heard the agents before they'd seen them:    heavy boots crushing against gravel,    loud shouts of warning but not enough time to move before the firing had begun,    the glee with which they had watched person after person lucky enough to scream in agony,    or lucky enough to hit the ground with no sound whatsoever,    depending on your persuasion.    hobie knows what the news channels will make of this come morning:    what had begun as a peaceful protest,    quickly led astray by the anarchic spider-punk ( god, he hates that name )    &    his shoddy leadership.    twelve dead, three times that many wounded.    the arrests would start later,    if there are any at all.

alison's presence is not acknowledged by everyone.    those who do see her stare in confusion,    avoid crashing into her by narrow intervals.    the whispers start up soon after    ( who's that? what's she doing here? no way, is that disco-$&!@? )    but come to an even more sudden halt when hobie makes himself known.