Summary:Two spiders control a dragonfly. It's more hectic than it sounds. Log Info:Storyteller: None |
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The Store isn't hard to find, especially if you've been there before.
Peter does find his way again without going to the Post-It with the address. He does have the key, but it id midday, and the place could be open, anyway. He looked a little nervous. Well…more than a little.
He opened the door slowly, peering into the first floor area beyond the front door, checking out what's going on before saying anything. She could be doing something. Someone else could be doing something. He didn't know.
Dead Girl IS doing something. She's singing to a cat while dancing with it. The song is particularly bouncy, and of funky style. The cat seems to be enjoying the attention, held so carefully by Dead Girl. "I love my kitty cat! Yes I do! I love my kitty cat, oh I do! And all I wanna do is feed her lots of treats- feed her lots of treats and kiss her little feets!"
This is The Store, where kitty cats are serenaded by dead women.
Peter lets the door close behind him, and just gazes on at the hippie woman dance with a cat. Because of COURSE she is. And she's dead, yes, but she's awfully lively for a dead person.
Peter watches for a full minute before saying, "You're lucky. Cats don't like me very much."
Dead Girl smiles brightly, "All my cats are sweeties, I'm sure they'll like you." she notes, "I mean, they like me." she offers as she gently places the cat on the sofa. The cat wanders off to find somewhere to hide and lay down- as is the natural way of the cat.
"So, what's up, Peter?" Dead Girl wonders, "Have you eaten?" she asks next, "Here to do some work or something?" she asks next, as she starts towards the kitchen. "I was thinking about making something latin tonight for dinner, maybe tacos or the like."
Peter blushes slightly. "Well, I was hoping to use the third floor again." He holds up his backpack. "I'm doing a demonstration of a dragonfly drone, and I felt I could use the third floor again. It's…" He actually looks down, scuffing his sneaker slightly, and says something he realized he never expected to say.
"…I'm meeting a girl here."
"Ooooh! Meeting a girl!" Dead Girl claps a bit, "Exciting! I hope you'll introduce us, and of course! Me casa es su casa, Peter! You're always welcome here. I don't give just anyone keys, you know. And it's just because you're "Working" here" she remarks, "It's because I think a place like this is good for you. A place to just sort of… get away without getting away, you know? Tinker and whatever. Feel free to use any of the stuff you find around her in your inventions." she says, "Just in case that wasn't already obvious."
"So, this girl- should I get dinner ready for the two of you? IS there music you want playing?" Dead Girl wonders next, clearly overjoyed and happy for Peter.
Peter blushes at being doted on by Deeg. "Uhm, Deeg, can you please calm down a bit?" He takes a deep breath. "I met this girl yesterday. Her name is Gwen Stacy, and she's…well, she's smart, she's pretty, she's quick-witted, she's…holy cow, she's out of my league." He tries to compose himself. "We met over at Bake's Electronics at Queens, and we got to talking. And we just…she's something else, Deeg. But it was getting late, and I wanted to show her the drone and what it could do, but I didn't want to invite her back to the house. So, I thought of a good public place where she might feel comfortable…and The Store came immediately to mind."
"Oh, I get it. Play it cooooool." Dead Girl says, "I can do cool. I'm the queen of smooth." she assures Peter. "And yeah, of course she's welcome here. Use the third floor, the garden- anywhere you want. I'll leave food out for you in that case." she says, in a typical 'I've adopted you as my nephew' Dead Girl style. "And drinks. Iced tea maybe, or cola? Bottles of water? What's the cool drink these days?"
Peter pauses, sounding mystified. "I…don't really know. But I guess we can hold off until she gets here. I gave her directions, and she has my number. Uhm…maybe I should show you the picture she took for my contacts, when she gave me her number. Do you want to see it?"
"Yeah! Let me see the picture!" Dead Girl says, approaching Peter and still smiling brightly. She seems very happy for Peter. "Does your Aunt know? Should she know?" she wonders next, "I mean, you didn't invite her to your house, which is smart- but you're bringing her here. I can't help but think that means you feel a little safe here, too."
Peter chuckled. "Well…like I said. When I thought about safe, this was the first place I thought of." He pulls up the contact on his phone, a Samsung Galaxy S3. Cutting-edge tech…nine years ago.
He waits a few seconds, the holds up the phone for Deeg to see. The blonde with the sculpted cheekbones and the long blonde hair is smiling as she wraps one arm around a startled and slightly-blushing Peter. It is a warm, quirky smile.
Dead Girl beams at The Store being called safe. It's really what she likes to hear. "Oh! Look at her! She's pretty, Peter!" she notes, "Wow!" Dead Girl grins then, a wide grin. "Don't worry, I won't be around on the third floor. You can even use the velvet rope to cord it off if you want." she notes. "I'm sure there's a velvet rope around here somewhere." she remarks, "I should really check on that. I might have loaned it out a few or ten years ago."
Dead Girl doesn't really keep track of her stuff, The Store is meant to be a living, breathing entity that continually refreshes what it has through natural osmosis. IT seems to do that well enough.
"That is fantastic, though, I'm really happy for you!"
Peter looks thoughtful. "Actually…I was wondering if you'd like to test something for me." He takes out a small tin box, then takes out three Oculus-Rift-style headsets. One is marked PILOT, one CO-PILOT, and one PASSENGER. "I'd like to test this and I was wondering if you'd like to join us. Chaperone, I guess."
"Sure!" Dead Girl says, "Always happy to help. I can also scope out if she's haunted or something." she says, "Ghosts are everywhere you know, and they always hang out here because of me." she says with a smile- some people might think that was crazy, but she is a walking corpse. Maybe not so crazy.
"So, what would I be testing, exactly? I assume it involves wearing those goggle things?"
Peter nods, then opens the tin box with Captain America telling everyone to BUY U.S. WAR BONDS. Inside is an unmoving but iridescent dragonfly. At first glance it looks exactly like a dragonfly, same size, same shape, even the coloring is the same.
Then Peter grasps it gently by the long thorax and holds it up for Deeg to get a closer look. It is then she can see the batteries, two tiny watch batteries, in the middle of the "insect."
"I'm testing the range and these goggles. I had two set up, but was able to add a third. I'm also testing the collision avoidance software I wrote for it."
Dead Girl leans forward, looking at the dragonfly drone. "Oooooh." she coos with genuine curiosity as her body goes a little translucent and she floats up so she can see it from the top- just kind of floating in the air as if it wasn't anything at all. "Wow, would you look at that." She's on her feet again before too long, and solid. "That's really cool."
Peter smiles wryly. "Took me a month to build and a LOT of dog-walking. About $700 in materials…after paying the house bills and such. Problem is, I keep crashing it. I've replaced the front part, the eyes?…seven times. Too scratched." When Adam was here, he and I took Little Nellie all the way to Times Square from here. 5.4 miles."
Gwen got Peter's text while she was on a rooftop in the city. "Oooh, The Store," she says as she reads the message. She looks around to make sure she isn't forgetting anything, and begins her web swinging across the city. Stopping just short of the address in the text, Spider-Woman disappears into a ladies' room and Gwen comes out. Wearing a pink and black tracksuit with a hoodie, hair pulled back with her black headband, Gwen let's herself in the door to where Peter should be waiting. "P-Peter?" she asks, peering inside.
Peter is standing about 15 feet beyond the entrance, talking to who is probably one of the few 60's hippies brave enough never to eschew the tie-dye. Peter is standing near a table, one with three VR headsets and the little insect she had seen before.
At Gwen's voice, he looks up with a startled smile. The hippie nods to him as she heads towards the kitchen area.
"Gwen! Hey! I'm glad you could make it. Welcome to the last commune in Manhattan."
"Oooh this place is wild!" Gwen pirouettes, looking around the whole place. "And REAL HIPPIES. Hippies are sooo~ cool…And your drone! Have you flown it yet? I have been SO excited…."
"One real hippie, anyway. Dead Girl has been around since the 1960's. For her, the past never left." He beckons her over to the table. "Okay. I was able to get it to fly, but, as I said, I kept running into things. But I've get some new code uploaded into her and I need to see how that works." He picks up the drone, tilting it so Gwen can see the tiny lettering written on the side: LITTLE NELLIE.
"I've also got the third VR rig fixed." He points the labels pasted to each one: one called PILOT, one called CO-PILOT, one called PASSENGER. "They're all connected to Bluetooth, I figured you'd get CO-PILOT and Deeg can test the PASSENGER one. All goes well, we can see how the software updates work…and then she'll be ready for the science fair."
"Oooh, it's a SHE…And she's a Bond Girl!" Gwen practically squees, looking over the little drone again. "I just love the lil guy—er, girl." She grins, looking up at Peter again. "Where'd she go? Your friend…Dead…Girl? I mean, she's…really dead, huh? Like really really?"
Peter points to were she is humming away in the kitchen. "Yeah. She was killed in the late fifties, only her death activated her superpowers. Horrible way to find out, eh? I don't want to give away too much, because I don't like to talk about other people…but she went totally the other way. Instead of being morose and emotional about her death, she…resolved to help people. That's pretty awesome." He sounds a little wistful. "To be able to just continue to do good, in spite of the horrible things life can throw at you…"
"Lots of people do good despite what life throws at them. It's an amazing thing, what humankind can do. Even…y'know….post-mortem?" Gwen cuts her eyes around. "I feel horrible, even just saying it that way. Is it discriminatory? What is the politically correct term for a dead girl?"
Peter shrugged. "She likes to be called Dead Girl. Her friends call her Deeg." He looks around. "She is probably like the most impressive hoarder I have ever seen. The third floor has all the electronics stuff up there. She's got everything from fiber-optic cable to original Nintendo machines still in the boxes." He puts "Little Nellie" back in the tin box, then closes it. "Want to help me bring all of this up to the third floor? We can get set up, and we can test some tech." He winks.
"Ohhh…" Gwen replies, considering all the information at hand about Dead Girl. Then she brightens at Peter's suggestion. "Sure, I'll help!" She grins, helping to carry whatever Peter lets her carry. "I can't waaait to see her fly!" Gwen is practically dancing as she follows Peter around.
Peter picks up his backpack and the PILOT rig.
He points to the other two, CO-PILOT and PASSENGER. "If you could grab those, I'd appreciate it. They connect to the pilot rig using Bluetooth. They have a 270-degree arc, left, right, up, down, and move independently of the others. There's a little vertigo, but you can get used to it."
"Whatever you need!" Gwen grabs the rigs that Peter indicated and follows him, her gaze lingering as she peers curiously toward the kitchen. "So…are there others at the community that are…y'know, dead? Or is she the only one? And does she still look the same? Or is she sorta…uh…" Morbid curiosity stuff. "Never mind!" She calls ahead as she snaps back and follows Peter toward the intended room where they can fly the dragonfly drone. "I mean, can she fly it too, or is she a gh….I mean has she flown it?"
Peter looks over his shoulder as he heads up the stairs. "Nope. I've been the only one to fly it. She's never even seen what it could do." He paused. "I know she talks to ghosts. She told me about it. She even offered to try and communicate to my Uncle Ben…" He pauses. "He was killed a year and a half ago…attempted burglary. The guy, Carradine, was caught, but…" He reaches the top floor. "…well, Aunt May is still in mourning to a small degree. They were married since the 60's, and she still has moments…but she's doing better. I'm doing better, too…most of the time." He chuckles, looking embarrassed. "I'm…sorry to lay that on you."
"Oh, Peter. I'm sorry…I didn't know. Don't look so embarrassed. Everybody has to deal with stuff in their own way. A year and a half ago….and they were married that long? Nah, she is mourning to more than a small degree. Poor woman, I can only imagine….that's awful. I'm sorry…" Gwen looks crestfallen, just trying to process it all.
Peter sighs as he reaches the table with the couch in front of it. "We take it day by day, Gwen. I took it harder than she did, in some ways. I think they knew that they were old, but the way it happened…they weren't expecting that." He sat down on the couch. "Uncle Ben was my whole world. He was my voice of reason. I think it's safe to say that he kept me alive through all the years of bullies and scorn and shyness. I dread to think what I'd done if he hadn't kept me on an even keel…"
*…and I still killed him, anyway…* he thought, and loathed himself.
He took a deep breath.
"I'm gonna hug you now," Gwen states matter-of-factly. Partly so he isn't taken by surprise, and partly so he can recoil if he prefers that she didn't hug him. "I'm really sorry you guys have had to go through that. It would be hard on anyone…But you guys are…" Who are they? Somehow special to her, even if she has never met his Aunt May. "You," she finishes, putting down the rigs and moving toward him to gather him into a hug.
Peter turns to her. He doesn't pull away. He has no romantic designs…at least, not at that moment, let's not gild the lily.
He nods because sometimes it's better not to be alone in this.
When she moves towards him, the hug is a little clumsy, Peter seemingly having trouble where to put his arms and hands before just resting them against her upper back. It does feel better after a few seconds. She is warm and close, and for a few moments, there is nothing going through his mind at all.
Gwen hugs Peter gently, rubbing his back with one hand and rocking him gently. "It's gonna be okay, I promise. And I know you don't know me that well. But I'm always here for ya…"
Peter takes a deep breath. He almost tells her. He almost tells her everything.
But he can't. He can lay that kind of weight on her.
After a few more seconds, he draws back, looking at her and sniffling once. "Thanks, Gwen. You really are some kind of awesome."
Gwen smiles. "Only kind of. And don't let it get out. I don't have time to sign any more autographs, right now." She winks and touches his cheek. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you cry. I just…sometimes wish I could do more to help."
Peter took another deep breath, then exhaled. "Well, you're doing it now." He rubbed his eyes, then said, "Well…would you like to know what it's like to fly?"
"Absolutely!" She knows what it's like to "fly"…but not to FLY. And this will still be only a facsimile, but it is bound to be closer than being tethered to the earth and defying gravity only through the cunning use of pivot points. "You tell me what to do, and I'll be all over it."
Peter smiles. "Sit down. This couch is good for this, because you can sit upright with your back against the backrest and not lean back." He lifts up the CO-PILOT rig and hands it to her. "When I say 'go,' put this over your eyes and ears and close your eyes until I say 'open.'"
He opens the tin again, placing the drone on the table facing them. Then, he takes out a set of gloves with wires running along the backs of the fingers and tiny blue LEDs positioned at each joint. He takes out a tablet, then switches it on. The word PARKERSOFT appears in red, before two buttons appear: DIAGNOSTIC and ON/OFF. He places the tablet on the table in front of the drone and taps DIAGNOSTIC.
The tablet displays a series of tasks in red, with names like TELEMETRY and MOTOR and WIFI and GPS. As time goes on, the titles change, one by one, from red to green.
When the last one turns green, DIAGNOSTIC grays out and ON/OFF lights up.
Gwen puts the apparatus on to the point of 'at the ready' for his signals, and watches curiously as the tablet runs through its routine. "You've put a TON of work into this, haven't you?" she asks as she notes the Parkersoft splash screen. This is so CRAZY cool."
Peter chuckled. "Six months. Okay…GO."
He tapped the ON/OFF button and pulled on the gloves before setting the PILOT rig over his face.
A few beeps, and he says, "OPEN."
The view is vertigo-inducing. Opening the eyes reveals that she is looking at herself and Peter from below and close. She sees a HUD display appear around her vision, and it follows her eyes as she looks around. She can see the veined oak wood, the black gloves on Peter's hands.
She sees his left hand rise slightly, and then the drone lifts off, rising to move until Gwen is looking at her own masked face.
Gwen pulls the rig down over her eyes and ears at Peter's signal and waits until he says to open her eyes before she does. "Wow," she says quietly as she takes it all in. Then, looking at herself, she can only laugh. I look really goofy in a mask, don't I?" She laughs again, considering the further implications of the comment. "This is so wild, I can't believe it only took you six months do pull this all together."
Peter nodded. "Hard work, lots of late nights." The drone turned in place, allowing Gwen to see the rest of the floor. The drone moved forward, slowly but picking up speed, until it reached a shelf on the other side of the room. She could see the entire shelf when she moved her head on her own.
"Okay…up, up, and away."
The drone rose through the skylight, flew over the solar panels on the roof, and then Gwen was flying through the city. The HUD told her the drone was moving at 20 MPH and speeding up.
Gwen tries her best to stay still, but it is as if she is, herself, on a flight through the city. She looks this way and that, taking in the sights, feeling somehow weightless, as if she /is/ the dragonfly. "Peter…this is amazing…."
Peter speaks, and it is slightly disconcerting to hear him and not see him. "I've got her up to 40 MPH, and 5.4 miles range. I put some bigger batteries in her and set up a cell-phone frequency so that she is using the cell towers for telemetry. I can control throttle, pitch, yaw, trim, all with my left hand."
As Gwen watches, she sees a disembodied right hand rise to tap one of the window blocks, converting MPH to knots and back again.
"Some controls are virtual, the more complicated ones. I've got something of an obstacle course set near Midtown High for the day of the fair."
"It seems so…nearly impossible. I mean, I know drones can do some awesome stuff these days, but I never would have guessed something like this even existed." She leans into turns and looks up and down, enjoying the freedom of the sky, and the beauty of the city below, with its colored tufts of spring in bloom. "Yeah, I would never trust myself…I'd crash something like this into the nearest obstacle, guaranteed."
Peter says suddenly, "Hey, thanks for reminding me." He reaches with the right hand to tap a button marked C-A, turning it on. "I have to test the collision avoidance. I can fly it close and CRAP IN A HAT!"
The view suddenly blurs, there is a flash of feathers, and a surprised rough squawk. As a New Yorker, Gwen has likely heard it herself—the cry of a ticked-off pigeon.
The drone banks and angles downward, the MPH going from 40 to 50, and Peter yells, "HANG ON!"
He taps one box, and a view of what's behind them shows up in the upper right—the beak, beady eyes, and craning head attached to the body of a very hungry pigeon.
"Whoa! Fly, girl, fly!! Bogey incoming!!" Gwen is leaning into the dive as if she can somehow help the poor imperiled dragonfly to maneuver by doing so. "GO AWAY BIRD!!"
Peter's left hand was flickering as the fingers moved to maintain control of the drone. It dove lower through an alley as the pigeon flew after it in hot pursuit.
"Five BILLION insects in the naked city and WHOA!"
The drone is careening towards a metal fire escape. Then the C-A box glows and the drone turns to fly BETWEEN the steps. The pigeon angles away from it, but continues to chase the drone.
"Five BILLION insects in New York and this one chases US!"
"Maybe you made it look too delicious!" Gwen cries, moving helplessly on the couch in an effort to try and "help" the dragonfly evade the evil predator.
Peter says through gritted teeth, "Good point…gotta check…coloration of poisonous…GAHHH!"
The drone angles upward as it flies out of the alley and into rush-hour traffic, nearly getting clipped by a Subaru before flying through a garden area set in a strip of tended ground.
Then Peter spots something, then angles to the left, flying towards a children's playset.
The one with a corkscrew slide.
"By th' Jaysus, it'll be tight…!" Peter blurts out, a little Irish creeping into his voice.
"Peter! Can you maneuver through that??" She is having to fight to keep from jumping up, but she knows that the movement would likely land her on her face. "Be caaareful!"
Peter responded with the white-knuckled truth. "NO IDEA!"
The drone flew into the aperture at the top of the slide, the pigeon going through a moment later.
The C-A light comes on and STAYS on, the software trying to compensate for this seemingly-suicidal plunge, the drone turning in a tight circle and holding it as it descends, and then it shoots out from the bottom of the slide.
The pigeon, on the other hand, either has no such software or hadn't bothered to update it in months. There is a boom, a bang, and then a sound like a stone rolling through the tube.
As the drone flies away, the stunned pigeon rolls out of the slide, getting up and shaking its head as it sways drunkenly from side to side.
"YES!!" Gwen jumps to her feet, then immediately sways like a drunken pigeon. "Whoa…" And down she goes again, flopping on the couch and shaking her head. "Bad move, Gwennie…wow. But it worked! The software worked!"
Peter seemed to deflate as he said tiredly, "Yeah…thank Jesus and Mary and Joseph the carpenter from Brighton Beach…" He taps a command: "RTB." The drone angled south as a banner shows up at the bottom: RETURN TO BASE.
"I…think that's enough research for one day."
"Yeah, enough excitement for one day, too," Gwen laughs. "It was fantastic though! If you can help her survive that, I think you've got the science fair made. I don't think anyone's gonna compete with that…"
Peter chuckles tiredly. "I hope so. Dr. Curt Connors from Empire State University is coming to judge the exhibits."
The drone appears a few seconds later, flying toward the tin and landing on the lid.
Peter closed his eyes and slid the VR rig off his head, then pressed the ON/OFF button, and the drone goes dark. "Close your eyes, then remove the rig. You've had enough altered perspectives for one day, I think."
Gwen closes her eyes and slips off the rig, before opening her eyes and blinking a few times. "What a trip," she breathes, as she gets her bearings again. Swinging on webs has got nothin' on that flight, and she almost says so, before catching herself. Maybe she is more disoriented than she thought. "Thank you SO much for letting me come check it out tonight, Peter."
Peter chuckled. "I really didn't let you do anything. I want to thank YOU for showing up, and being able to appreciate the work for what it is." He grinned at her. "And although you got startled, you didn't freak out. You kept your head."
"I was freeeeaking out. I just kept it inside," Gwen replies with a laugh. "I thought that poor lil' dragonfly was toast, there for a bit. And it seemed the pigeon thought she might be toast, too. I'm just glad she made it home unharmed."
Peter slumped back on the couch. "You and me both. Seven hundred bucks about to become pigeon food."
"That science fair thing sounds REALLY interesting. I'll have to go check it out," Gwen says, wrapping an arm around Peter's shoulders and giving him a squeeze. "That way I can tell them all I knew you before you got famous, when you win."
Peter chuckles. "Yes, famous. A little nod in the paper in the Lifestyles page of the Bugle, eighth page, below the fold. What I'm more interested in is the scholarship. A five-thousand-per-year scholarship…and a letter of reference to Empire State."
"Well THAT is as good as yours," Gwen grins. "And you're right, that's worth a whole lot more than a mention below the fold. But you have all sorts of things to your credit, don't you? I thought your name appeared attached to some pretty awesome pics of Spider-Man, too. You are a man of many, many talents."
Peter looked to Gwen, a wry sidelong glance on his face. "And you are more than what you seem, Gwen Stacy. Smart, intuitive. I have to admit, I wasn't sure, because pretty women usually only see me as someone to steal notes from or write papers for them. YOU, on the other hand, know what you're doing and don't need any help from me."
"Ohh trust me, there are LOTS of times when I don't know what I'm doing and could use a little guidance. I trust you'll tell me when those arise." She breathes a laugh. "But you're worth WAY more than some notes or tech. You're the whole package."
"The whole package? ME?" Peter looked amazed. Like he really was and nobody had told him. Ever. "I'm…I'm a goober, Gwen. I'm like Rocky Balboa. I'm too stubborn to know when to give up or give in."
Gwen grins. "Nah. That's what makes you awesome. Or it's part of what makes you awesome. You're cute, funny, smart and kind. What else could a person aspire to be?"
Peter turned his head to look at her directly.
He can't say this. She'll laugh. She'll be creeped out. She'll think he's weird.
GOD HATES A COWARD.
"Gwen, would it make you uncomfortable if I told you I thought I was falling for you?"
Trust no one.
"Uncomfortable, no…" Gwen tilts her head. "As long as you think you are, there is room to research the hypothesis, right?" She smiles warmly. "You've been around me….twice. I'd say there's definitely wiggle room to find out for sure." And she's not uncomfortable, /exactly/…she's just heard it before. And they always change their minds. Trust no one. "We got nothin' but time, right?"
That's not a 'Eww, get AWAY form me.'
"Yeah…you're right," He chuckled. We do. And I am…a little nervous. So, cut me some slack."
"I'm just…I'm guarded. Walls a mile high. Built by the people they now endeavor to keep out. But they're problematic for everyone else too…" She's trying to be as honest as she can be. Gwen leans over and yawns tiredly. "I'll tell ya this much. The ones I don't want around? They don't even get to hang around outside the walls. 'Launched la vache!'" she calls, pantomining a catapulted cow over the wall. "And if that doesn't work…I'll taunt them a second time…."