Re: [spidey kids in silent hill]
[She had no idea what she was getting into. The words 'silent' and 'hill' together were only vaguely familiar in her head, some video game boys like Flash liked to talk about, something about fog and rendering and blah blah blah. She barely even knew the concept. So, maybe she should've done a little research before she went tearing out to the hotel, but she didn't. It didn't even occur to MJ.
Navy hoodie and green pants from the Gap, hiking boots, because at least that was practical, and a baseball hat, nondescript over famous red curls pigtailed low. She hadn't even stopped to put makeup on, because this sounded bad. Like, really bad. Like, really, really bad. Flash thought he was in high school, when he was in some horror fun house, and Gwendy too. MJ didn't even think of contention.
She was crawling the halls of that stupid hotel, the dust of abandonment making the air as hazy as she imagined Silent Hill to be, with all the running around, it was thick on bannisters, disturbed here and there by fingerprints in cherrywood, evidence of other people moving between the worlds closed off and separated in the most mundane fashion: a hotel.
MJ was right on Pete's heels at the shock of a door slamming, treads on threadbare carpet, up, around, and then red on red in a dissociative moment, murky maroon marred by carmine bright and fresh. It muddied everything, and even down at the other end of the corridor, sconces lining the walls dim, dim, dim, MJ could smell the iron in the air.
Pete took off. He went to his knees and helped Gwendy with bandaging... what was left of Flash's legs up, while MJ stood down at the mouth of the staircase with her hand over her mouth. Gwendolyn was functioning, tearing her hoodie apart with strength MJ didn't have. Pete was functioning too, helping, calm, minimal shaking. She had to help too.—MJ swallowed. She shook, and it wasn't minimal. It was shock-black, and she tried to stay out of the way.
All she did was get onto her knees and crawl through that mess of blood that hit like a spoon on the tongue, and she found Flash's hand in the gore. She held it, slipping palms and slick fingers, and she squeezed. The floor was wet. He was going to bleed-out.
MJ was good at turning on the charm when she needed it most. She was used to violence—but this, this was beyond her. Her voice refused to work, so she just held on and let the other two try to save their friend.]