Thread: The Five Stages of Good Grief Who: Peter Parker, Gwen Stacy Where: Columbia University, New York City When: Wednesday Afternoon, July 1, 2015 What: Spider-Man discovers that he's 'famous' and misses his summer course with Gwen. Warnings: Forecast indicates mild violence, homework, and a chance of puns. Status: Completed
Backpack slung across both arms, Peter's swing arced down through the glass and concrete canyon on westbound King Blvd, having already saved a distracted pizza delivery guy from classic NYC road rage and preventing a nasty high rise construction accident in the Bronx. Pushing for more speed, he used all of his weight and spun past a bus, giving a thumbs up to the kid at the window. You just had to sign up for summer courses, didn't you? Over-achiever Peter, that's what the guys are gonna call you when school starts up in the Fall, you know it and I know i--
His train of thought gave way to alarm as he reached the apex of his climb and could see the 3:15 Broadway train pull away in the distance. "I'm late! I'm really late!" He needed a good excuse this time. This was the third time he'd be showing up late to class and those college professor types didn't mess around. They certainly cared more than Forest Hills High's gym coach. Not that that is very hard.
This time he felt the buzz at the back of his neck before he heard the alarm, his senses tuned below at a convenience store couched behind a newsstand kiosk. With a dramatic sigh, Peter plummeted, slipping out of his backpack and webbing it under the lip of the roof. He heard the shouting and already knew what he'd see before he landed. Almost.
The man was already running out of the store, gun in hand. "Out of my way, freak!"
Spider-Man sidestepped as if to let him go, then grabbed the gun, thumbing the safety switch on it before he wrenched it away. "I'm the freak?! Says the guy wearing the White Sox shirt in my town." The man swung the bag of ill-gotten goods at him, and Peter disarmed that as well, shaking his head. "I'm late for a very important appointment, dude. You're being really inconsiderate. Oh, and robbery is bad too. As an ambassador of the fine city of Chicago, you're doing a heck of a job."
"Shut up and die, you f-"
Peter went on the offensive, knocking him in the jaw and throwing the man over his shoulder, tossing the bag back in the door of the store as he slammed the crook to the ground. "Language," he scolded, before webbing his arms and legs to the glass. "Clearly not only does New York do baseball and pizza better than the Windy Ci--"
"F--" Webbing to the face.
"Don't interrupt a man when he's insulting you. That's just rude!" Spider-Man backpedaled, and turned to look at the guy in the kiosk outside. "Amirite?" He glanced down and noticed the newspaper at the front, with SPIDER-MAN: MENACE! emblazoned at the top. Picking it up, he looked up quizzically at the vendor. "How much?"
"On the house, Spidey. Nice work."
"Yeah, thanks." Peter rolled it up and pointed at the crook behind them. "Call the police. The webbing will start to dissolve in about an hour. Thanks, bud. And you, I got my eyes on you, pal!" Peter pointed at his glass eyes with two fingers before jabbing them in the crook's direction. Paper in hand, he spun a web up above and left the scene, satisfied at the sound of sirens in the distance.
By the time he made it to Columbia University campus, Peter was already really late. And then, he had to change on the roof quickly, pulling his watch on and looking at it with a groan. A few minutes later he was standing outside the mathematics building, holding up a can of Coke as a peace offering and trying to look extra ashamed as Gwen appeared at the doorway.