[center][img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/552210662391021574/552663742244978689/spider2_edit.jpg[/img][/center]
[indent][b][url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cno20onK9dY]SPIDER-MAN: THE DISTANCE[/url][/b][/indent]
[indent][b]Issue 7.3[/b][/indent]
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[indent][b]New York City, NY --- Queens Neighborhood[/b][/indent]
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The engine sputtered and the frame of the convertible groaned as the webs slammed into the wheel silos. The webs forced gears to a halt and glued sheets of fine rubber to the pavement as the tires spun furiously. The brake pads howled like banshees, scraping on organic webbing and rubber, trying to slow the car as it swung on the road. The driver looked like he was about ready to rip the wheel off the frame as he jerked it, trying to control the momentum.

[color=#507de5]“Yes!”[/color] Peter scrambled backwards and found his footing, setting into a low crouch on his haunches. [i]Gotta swing away before Thing One and Thing Two… Oh, crap.[/i] There was a horrible crunch of aluminum and steel twisting together and grinding past one another, as the smell of burnt rubber streaked the air as the convertible started a reverse wheelie that was [i]definitely[/i] not intended by the manufacturer. Spider-Sense flared like ice up and down his neck -- [i]better move, or Tweedledee and Tweedledum are gonna be Tweedle-dead.[/i]

He threw himself forward, face first, and by the time his chest hit the pavement his hands were up, squeezing what was left of his web fluid through little pores at the base of his wrists, knotting together into a massive spider web between two sickly oak trees on some guy’s lawn. The car flew with the grace and style of a lead brick as it slashed through the air, dropping what looked like a hazy bubble with the kids from the car crouched inside it. The car plowed through the web with the crackle of shattering bark as the connection points gave way and the vehicle headed straight for the house’s picture window.

Peter was already back on his knees, two weblines lanced from his wrists and snapped to the car’s undercarriage. The lines went taut instantly and Peter yanked backward. His muscles screamed at the pressure, like every individual fiber was supporting a hundred pounds of force, wrenching the car down to earth, it felt like trying to topple a skyscraper. Peter felt the webline in one hand [i]snap[/i] and he felt something go [i]pop[/i] in his opposite shoulder when the car finally bit into the earth and splintered every surviving pane of the convertible’s glass while the car flattened against the lawn, inches from destroying a residential living room.

Peter’s breath came out shaky and the weblines fell from his hands. His muscles felt like pulled taffy, and as he looked down he became aware of the kid’s on either side of him, the passengers, both dressed in garish blue and yellow costumes. He also became aware of the round, bony joint of his shoulder, hanging at an odd angle from the rest of his torso.

[i]Fucking OWWWWWW![/i] Peter grabbed the arm with his opposite hand and considered it. The black costume was still perfectly free of any rips or blemishes, but the arm sat there, free in the bag of his skin. He shuddered, and tried to remember what Mr. Osborn did when the same thing happened to Harry, when they were kids. [i]Well, I guess circumstances were a[/i] little [i]different then. Just gotta get it back in before the shock wears off...[/i] He took a firm grip around his arm as the girl from the wreck began to get her bearings.


“You...asshole!” She spat. “I swear to God your face is gonna be a hamburger after I'm done with you!”

[color=#507de5]“Whoa, Strawberry Shortcake, you the were the one…”[/color] Peter’s breath caught as he put his shoulder back into its socket in one move, forcing bone past muscle and jamming it in, [color=#507de5]“chasing me.”[/color] His eyes came up to meet hers, narrow slits of white peering out of a sea of darkness, and he realized the floating mass around himself. It was like magic wicked pickets revolving in a circle, [i]dozens[/i] of them, held aloft by some kind of ethereal string Peter couldn’t see. His Spider-Sense reached and miss for something, some [i]mechanism[/i] to it, and came back with nothing but the cool breeze of the New York air. He’d run afoul of honest-to-God [i]Mutants[/i].

"Y'got one chance to give it up, pal. Or you're in for a world of hurt."

[i]Really screwed the pooch on this one, Parker.[/i] He retreated into himself, lower to the ground, a tiny spider against the makeshift artillery before him. [i]Almost outta webs. Could dodge a couple of pickets… Maybe... [/i] He glanced behind him, to a boy with his eyes firmly shut, patting about the patch of concrete he’d landed on. [i]And who knows what kinda power that guy’s packing.[/i] He tightened the strap on his duffle and then raised his hands slowly into the air, palms out. [i]It’s the hail mary, then.[/i]

Peter arched his fingers and wicked angles, and slouched forward like an animal baring its claws. [color=#507de5]“You better take your boyfriend and leave, lady, because I’m Spider-Man, and you just made me mad. I’m summoning [i]the spiders[/i]. Thousands of them, [i]hundreds[/i] of thousands of them! Because I’m [i]Spider-Man![/i]”[/color]