a-punk-arachnid

[a-punk-arachnid]

“We have got to get you out of here.”

Funny, he thought that was supposed to be his line.

“He knows you’re here.”

Gwen sounded... kinda freaked out now, actually. Obviously she knew what the watch's error messages meant. Miles had hoped to have a little more time with Peter's watch before Miguel twigged that he'd taken it. Oh well. It had gotten him this far. It wasn't the first time he'd had to improvise because something unexpectedly went wrong.

"Yeah, I'm getting the impression that news travels fast," the Prowler responded blithely, turning away from the blocked door and setting off at a jog. Miles didn't exactly have his spidey sense any more, but the thunderous sound of multiple sets of boots rushing from the corridor to their left was a pretty clear indicator of danger. So not that way, then.

Ooh, was that an air vent over there?

“Does the plan involve wearing a homing beacon for all the people that don’t like you?” 

Homing beacon?

There was a click of comprehension - of course, the super secret club watches have inbuilt tracker devices - and in that moment, Miles knew what his new plan would be.

"Psh, of course it does, because I totally knew all about that - it's a key part of my very non-improvised plan."

Was it risky? Of course. Reckless? Probably.

But he needed a new portal-opening device - and any Spiders that Miguel would send to kick The Original Anomaly back into his home dimension would be helpfully delivering a new one right to him.

“Oh, yeah. There’s this guy called Ricky from the Lower East Side that’s uh… A fan.”

The Prowler paused to cast Gwen a deeply weirded out look.

"Yikes."

No visitors and a public that vilified her, creepy stalkers sending disturbing letters... wow, being Spiderwoman really sucked in this dimension.

“Oh great. So, where are we going?”

By way of response, Miles launched himself upwards; claws scraped and gouged at the wall as he scaled it with decisive speed. The vent's access grate wasn't so keen about being pulled out, and the cramped space was thick with dust, but it would allow them to bypass the sea of locked doors and angry guards for the immediate moment.

"Up here, c'mon."

Deep down, he knew Gwen was asking about more than just which next turn they were taking. But hè didn't have a solid answer for her beyond that yet. He hadn't expected things to be so bad here - for Gwen to seem so... defeated. This was definitely going to take more than a jailbreak adventure and a pep talk to fix whatever clusterfuck of a situation had happened here. 

“...You know what happens if I come with you.”

Miles kept his steady crawl forwards through the air vent, but he did turn his head back to glance at his friend's face. A familiar rush of protective anger and cornered anxiety seethed in his gut.

I'll figure something out. I always do.

"...I don’t," he admitted at last. The only thing he did know for sure was that Gwen would glitch out if he brought her to another dimension, and he'd accounted for that. But the consequences of disrupting canon even further by taking a dimension's spiderwoman out of jail? Miles could only hope that the potential damage would be circumvented by working with his friend to stop Spot from destroying all of reality.

"But you're not fixing anything or keeping anyone safe by staying here."

@ghost--rocker

🕷️ I'mma Do My Own Thing 🕷️

The noise was constant. 

This place- the place where the cops shoved all the bad guys and threw away the key- served as a perpetual reminder of everything. Everyone hated Spider Woman here. The cops. The people behind bars. Even the general public seemed to be conflicted. 

If my Peter was still here, none of this would have happened. Gwen thought to herself miserably. 

It hadn’t taken long for Captain Stacy to palm her off to a fresh-faced set of recruits. He’d hardly been able to look his daughter in the eye. Did he even consider her as his daughter any more? If he’d seen how the awful event had unfolded… if she’d just chosen the right words to explain it all, maybe he’d have understood. But he didn’t. Now he was gone. And so was everyone else. 

There was a stranger in the bookings booth, clicking the tip of his pen anxiously as his gaze flitted to the form in his hand for guidance before looking back to Gwen. 

“Any gang affiliations?”

“Oh, yeah. I can control spiders.” Gwen riposted flatly, fixing the booking officer with an unwavering stare. The young man hesitated for a moment, before scribbling a note on his form for good measure. 

“Anyone that might wanna hurt you in there?”

“Only all the guys I helped you arrest.” And maybe my dad, Gwen thought to herself bitterly. 

More scribbling. 

“Medical history?” 

“A spider bit me, this one time.” 

The officer’s head dipped back to his form. Gwen was certain the last word written was followed by a question mark. 

“Emergency contact?”

“Captain George Stacy.” 

–

The noise was constant. 

But the thing about constant noise was that you grew used to how it sounded. You learned what The Vulture sounded like when he snored across the hall. You could tune out Screwball babbling to a brick he’d etched a face into. You didn’t flinch whenever you heard the Jackal having another one of his laughing episodes. So when the pitch of noise shifted, so did everyone in their cell. 

An alarm was sounding somewhere in a distant hall. From the back of her cell, Gwen listened. This was a dangerous prison with a bunch of bad guys in it. There were a million reasons an alarm could be going off. Burned toast. Someone accidentally let two guys that hate each other out of their cells at the same time. Someone attacking a guard. These things happened a lot, and they weren’t worth watching. Everyone watched everyone in here. And the thing about watching, was that you were never the only one doing it. It was only a matter of time before someone started watching back. 

Gwen had learned to ignore the perpetual sense of danger. Everyone in here knew who she was- who Spider Woman was. So what? Everyone that mattered wanted nothing left to do with Spider Woman, anyway. The longer she stewed on it, the more it started to feel like they were all right. Peter, Miles, her dad, Miguel, Jess…intentional or not, it always went wrong. Maybe that was just how Gwen Stacy’s canon was always supposed to go. 

A chorus of whooping started to build from outside. That was…unusual. Was someone important paying a visit? A sudden pool of dread began to build in Gwen’s stomach at the thought of Captain Stacy finally braving the sight of his daughter behind bars for some kind of conversation. There was nowhere to run here. There were only so many useless items to toss or pretend to busy herself with to avoid looking at him.

The dread didn’t budge, but the tingling sense that often preempted their interactions was weirdly absent. 

Okay, so the commotion outside was safe. Nothing to do with her. 

Just stay away from the door and don’t draw attention to yourself. No biggie. 

The shape of someone moved from outside, blocking some of the light filtering into the cell. Stubbornly, Gwen remained on her bunk, forcing her gaze to stick to the ceiling. 

…Nothing. 

A defensive hint of tension began to creep into Gwen’s shoulders. Was this guy trying to look in? Had he been gawking at the people in all the other cells too?

“You know, you can go to prison for that.” Gwen remarked wryly before getting up to shoot her very best ‘screw off’ glare towards–

The Prowler?

…Oh. Well this was awkward. 

“Huh. And they said there was no one on my visitation list.” The spider remarked mildly in spite of the muscle memory that neatened her stance into something poised and ready.

((Starter for @a-punk-arachnid ))

[a-punk-arachnid]

"I THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD" PROMPTS *  assorted dialogue, adjust as necessary

who else knows you're still alive?

don't tell me i'm the only one that knows.

i never should have believed their lies.

how could you keep this from me?

they lied to you. they knew it would break you if i died.

i staged it all.

there's no way this is happening.

i'm never letting you go.

i promised you i'd never leave you.

but i saw you die! this is impossible!

no. no. this isn't happening. this can't be real.

i watched it. i watched you die and now you're standing here.

how is this even possible?

they might have exaggerated just a bit.

we needed to make it look like i was dead.

you just let me spend all this time thinking you were dead?

did you tell anyone else?

this was your master plan? fake your death, see what happens?

i don't know whether to be pissed or be thrilled to see you again.

i've just seen a ghost.

you saw what they wanted you to see.

you're not real. i must be dreaming.

did you look for me?

funny. i don't remember falling asleep.

you just let us all believe you were dead?

it was the only way to do this. i'm sorry.

when were you going to tell me?

i watched the life leave your eyes...

you kept this from me.

oh my god... no. no no no. this can't be happening.

how did you... how did you even do this?

someone pinch me.

you look pretty good for someone that's supposed to be dead.

i watched you die in my arms.

they told me you died.

i promised you i'd come back.

they lied to me? all this time?

trust me, i wanted to tell you. i really did.

i think i need to sit down.

i'm gonna need some time to process this.

are you real? can i touch you?

what was all this about you dying?

you've kept the truth from me all this time.

had you just told me, i could have helped you.

i begged them to let me tell you, but they said it would ruin our plans.

the blood was fake. i'm all right.

yes, i'm alive! would you please come over here and give me a hug?

i didn't think i'd survive it, either.

i knew you'd come back for me.

we had to make it believable from the start.

there was no other way.

i should have told you.

i tried to get a message out to you.

they said you'd moved on, so i figured i should, too.

i wish i had all the answers for you.

i know you expect me to be okay with this, but things have changed since you died.

[name]... i thought you were dead.

will you ever find it in your heart to forgive me?

i'll never leave you again.

i swear on my life, this wasn't supposed to happen this way.

i take it you got my message.

everything got out of hand.

they didn't tell you?

glad you could make it.

i'm sorry i didn't reach out to you sooner.

all of a sudden, you come back into my life.

i'm back and better than ever.

i don't want to hear your excuses.

[a-punk-arachnid]

Abruptly, the guards closest to him were whisked away - and an all too familiar face was peering down at him.

“When you stop running, people hit you with things.”

Miles grinned up at her through his mask.

"Yeah, but I gotcha out of your cell, didn't I?" He riposted cheerfully, clasping her outstretched hand with a clawed gauntlet and slinging himself back up to his feet with an ease that was mostly due to sheer adrenaline.

...Hah. Prowler and Spiderwoman holding hands. Had that ever happened in another universe before?

He was definitely gonna be sore and bruised after this, but at least the armoured suit meant that nothing was broken. Worth it.

“Y’know, a friend of mine would have come here without a plan.”

Was she referring to him? That was so rude.

...Did that mean she still thought of him as a friend, even after everything?

"Oh, I have a plan," Miles asserted with affected flippancy, distractedly tapping in coordinates on his stolen watch and wondering why the hell it kept throwing up an error message.

The stupid thing had been working fine like ten minutes ago - was the signal getting blocked somehow? Did these watches use satellite reception? Bluetooth? He had no damned idea, but the lack of portal-opening was a real problem. He'd kind of been relying on that as his foolproof swift exit strategy.

"...Well. Okay. I have a new plan."

The new plan was admittedly a work in progress. So far it amounted to keep moving and improvise. He'd work it out as he went.

“So, what’s the scoop? Is this a kidnapping? A murder-for-hire? Oh- oh! I’ve got it. You’re the weird guy that’s been sending me letters.”

Miles shot her a disbelieving look.

"Wait - someone's been sending you letters?"

By the sounds of it, they hadn't been nice letters.

...Was this a universe where Spiderwoman got hatemail? Where she wasn't surprised by the idea that someone would be sent to kill her even when she was locked away in prison? Miles was really starting to get the impression that his friend wasn't the beloved city icon that he and Peter had been back home.

"Anyway - it's hardly kidnapping if you're choosing to come with me," he pointed out,

Miles sent another blast of compressed air at the approaching guards, deflecting the taser wire cartridges being fired their way, and dove back down to the lower landing, hoping his feint had bought them enough space to try their luck with one of the sets of double doors.

Maybe if they could escape into a different wing, he stop this group of guards from following somehow. It would be nice to shave off some pursuers in this veritable ants' nest he'd just kicked.

"Look - I know you don't have any reason to trust me. I know I’m not," An odd lump was forming in his throat as he spoke, "I'm not like you. But that doesn't mean I want to be like them," Miles jerked a thumb in the direction of the prisoners booing and heckling them from their cells to emphasis his point.

He shoved one of his stolen keys into the door lock as soon as he reached it.

Wrong one.

"Not all Prowlers are bad guys, y'know."

He tried another key. Nope. Third time lucky?

"Some of us just - just wanted to protect the people we loved."

He felt the door finally unlock; fourth time lucky. Whatever, he'd take it.

"Some of us didn't have any other choice." The Prowler's boot kicked the door open with more force than was strictly necessary, as if to compensate for the raw note of emotion that had filtered through the voice distorter.

Shit, Miles, dial down the method acting and pull yourself together.

When he slammed the doors shut behind them and turned face Gwen, the LED eyes of his mask were narrowed to slits.

"But you do. So don't throw that shit away."

She might have been kicked out of the super elite club Miguel had founded, but she was still Spiderwoman. She could still make a difference, make her world a better place, fight back.

"You got your webs, right? Jam these doors up."

There would be more prison guards flocking to their location from across the facility, of course, and possibly reinforcements being called in, but this would hopefully reduce their odds of getting pincered and surrounded.

@ghost--rocker

🕷️ I'mma Do My Own Thing 🕷️

The noise was constant. 

This place- the place where the cops shoved all the bad guys and threw away the key- served as a perpetual reminder of everything. Everyone hated Spider Woman here. The cops. The people behind bars. Even the general public seemed to be conflicted. 

If my Peter was still here, none of this would have happened. Gwen thought to herself miserably. 

It hadn’t taken long for Captain Stacy to palm her off to a fresh-faced set of recruits. He’d hardly been able to look his daughter in the eye. Did he even consider her as his daughter any more? If he’d seen how the awful event had unfolded… if she’d just chosen the right words to explain it all, maybe he’d have understood. But he didn’t. Now he was gone. And so was everyone else. 

There was a stranger in the bookings booth, clicking the tip of his pen anxiously as his gaze flitted to the form in his hand for guidance before looking back to Gwen. 

“Any gang affiliations?”

“Oh, yeah. I can control spiders.” Gwen riposted flatly, fixing the booking officer with an unwavering stare. The young man hesitated for a moment, before scribbling a note on his form for good measure. 

“Anyone that might wanna hurt you in there?”

“Only all the guys I helped you arrest.” And maybe my dad, Gwen thought to herself bitterly. 

More scribbling. 

“Medical history?” 

“A spider bit me, this one time.” 

The officer’s head dipped back to his form. Gwen was certain the last word written was followed by a question mark. 

“Emergency contact?”

“Captain George Stacy.” 

–

The noise was constant. 

But the thing about constant noise was that you grew used to how it sounded. You learned what The Vulture sounded like when he snored across the hall. You could tune out Screwball babbling to a brick he’d etched a face into. You didn’t flinch whenever you heard the Jackal having another one of his laughing episodes. So when the pitch of noise shifted, so did everyone in their cell. 

An alarm was sounding somewhere in a distant hall. From the back of her cell, Gwen listened. This was a dangerous prison with a bunch of bad guys in it. There were a million reasons an alarm could be going off. Burned toast. Someone accidentally let two guys that hate each other out of their cells at the same time. Someone attacking a guard. These things happened a lot, and they weren’t worth watching. Everyone watched everyone in here. And the thing about watching, was that you were never the only one doing it. It was only a matter of time before someone started watching back. 

Gwen had learned to ignore the perpetual sense of danger. Everyone in here knew who she was- who Spider Woman was. So what? Everyone that mattered wanted nothing left to do with Spider Woman, anyway. The longer she stewed on it, the more it started to feel like they were all right. Peter, Miles, her dad, Miguel, Jess…intentional or not, it always went wrong. Maybe that was just how Gwen Stacy’s canon was always supposed to go. 

A chorus of whooping started to build from outside. That was…unusual. Was someone important paying a visit? A sudden pool of dread began to build in Gwen’s stomach at the thought of Captain Stacy finally braving the sight of his daughter behind bars for some kind of conversation. There was nowhere to run here. There were only so many useless items to toss or pretend to busy herself with to avoid looking at him.

The dread didn’t budge, but the tingling sense that often preempted their interactions was weirdly absent. 

Okay, so the commotion outside was safe. Nothing to do with her. 

Just stay away from the door and don’t draw attention to yourself. No biggie. 

The shape of someone moved from outside, blocking some of the light filtering into the cell. Stubbornly, Gwen remained on her bunk, forcing her gaze to stick to the ceiling. 

…Nothing. 

A defensive hint of tension began to creep into Gwen’s shoulders. Was this guy trying to look in? Had he been gawking at the people in all the other cells too?

“You know, you can go to prison for that.” Gwen remarked wryly before getting up to shoot her very best ‘screw off’ glare towards–

The Prowler?

…Oh. Well this was awkward. 

“Huh. And they said there was no one on my visitation list.” The spider remarked mildly in spite of the muscle memory that neatened her stance into something poised and ready.

((Starter for @a-punk-arachnid ))

[a-punk-arachnid]

“It’s…more complicated than that.”

The pitilessly stoic mask of the Prowler tilted to one side as Miles slanted her a look, conveying his deep bemusement edged with a growing sense of confused frustration.

"...Is it?" An acerbic note seeped through into the Prowler's distorted growl. Everyone kept telling him shit like that, like he was some kid who was too young and dumb to understand. Like he hadn't fought to earn his place at the table and prove he could be -

It didn't matter. He couldn't be Spiderman any more. He was never even supposed to be Spiderman.

And Gwen had known for months.

I didn’t know... how to tell you.

What else hadn't she told him about? What was really going on? Why had she chosen to let herself be locked up in here?

What the hell happened to you?

"Whatever you're punishing yourself over, it ain't getting any more fixed by staying here."

It... she surely wasn't here because of him, right?

No. That couldn't be it. Not if her dad had arrested her.

Or maybe Gwen's dad was just an asshole of a dad. Admittedly he didn't really know anything about her family. Or much of her personal life.

But he knew her.

Or at least, he'd thought he had, but he definitely hadn't anticipated that his rescue mission would go this poorly. Gwen was so attached to her prison cell that she hadn't even taken a step outside of it. And the alarms were growing louder, closer. He was running out of time. How was he gonna persuade her to leave with him?

“I can’t keep running. But, uh, you probably should.”

Shit. Looked like his time was up.

“OVER THERE!”

Miles turned his head in the direction of the landing, taking in the groups of guards appearing in a pincer formation - armed and intent on neutralising the intruder.

...Uh oh.

Well. This was exactly the sort of situation where he deeply missed being able to turn invisible.

"I'm done running," he informed Gwen with a calm resolve that belied the spike of anxiety in his veins. Miles had never faced this many opponents before without his powers, and he was under no illusion that these guys were prepared to seriously hurt him.

"But you definitely aren't, or else you wouldn't be hiding away in a SuperMax that you could escape any time. This is like - peak avoiding your problems, right here -"

“HANDS WHERE WE CAN SEE THEM. GET ON THE GROUND.”

Man, the prison officers here were rude. Couldn't even let him finish his sentence.

"-Hold on a sec."

Obligingly, Miles raised his clawed hands above his head, palms out, as if offering surrender - then he flexed his wrists, and the two nearest taser-wielding officers staggered back with a cry, clutching at darts embedded in their skin.

Prowler didn't have web-slingers to launch himself across large distances, the way Spiderman once had. But the pneumatics in his boots gave him boosted speed and enough lift to leap right over a group of shocked heads.

Prowler couldn't skitter up across surfaces and dodge enemies blatant defiance of gravity the way Spiderman once had. But his claws, with their specialty design, created enough Van der Waals force for him to grip and scale the walls as he parried and evaded his foes.

He didn't want to actually hurt any of these people. They were, after all, just doing their jobs, trying their best to prevent a presumed supervillain from committing a jailbreak. But they were seriously impeding his ability to talk his friend out of her self-imposed exile, and their numbers were only growing as more reinforcements converged on the location.

The inmates were making a complete racket now, excited by the violence serving as tonight's entertainment. It was rather distracting, actually.

Just as he thought that, something hit him hard in the back; Miles stumbled and dropped to one knee, wheezing.

Ow, even through the armoured suit that had hurt.

A powerful blast of compressed arm shot out from his raised gauntlet, gaining him some sorely needed space to recover.

@ghost--rocker

🕷️ I'mma Do My Own Thing 🕷️

The noise was constant. 

This place- the place where the cops shoved all the bad guys and threw away the key- served as a perpetual reminder of everything. Everyone hated Spider Woman here. The cops. The people behind bars. Even the general public seemed to be conflicted. 

If my Peter was still here, none of this would have happened. Gwen thought to herself miserably. 

It hadn’t taken long for Captain Stacy to palm her off to a fresh-faced set of recruits. He’d hardly been able to look his daughter in the eye. Did he even consider her as his daughter any more? If he’d seen how the awful event had unfolded… if she’d just chosen the right words to explain it all, maybe he’d have understood. But he didn’t. Now he was gone. And so was everyone else. 

There was a stranger in the bookings booth, clicking the tip of his pen anxiously as his gaze flitted to the form in his hand for guidance before looking back to Gwen. 

“Any gang affiliations?”

“Oh, yeah. I can control spiders.” Gwen riposted flatly, fixing the booking officer with an unwavering stare. The young man hesitated for a moment, before scribbling a note on his form for good measure. 

“Anyone that might wanna hurt you in there?”

“Only all the guys I helped you arrest.” And maybe my dad, Gwen thought to herself bitterly. 

More scribbling. 

“Medical history?” 

“A spider bit me, this one time.” 

The officer’s head dipped back to his form. Gwen was certain the last word written was followed by a question mark. 

“Emergency contact?”

“Captain George Stacy.” 

–

The noise was constant. 

But the thing about constant noise was that you grew used to how it sounded. You learned what The Vulture sounded like when he snored across the hall. You could tune out Screwball babbling to a brick he’d etched a face into. You didn’t flinch whenever you heard the Jackal having another one of his laughing episodes. So when the pitch of noise shifted, so did everyone in their cell. 

An alarm was sounding somewhere in a distant hall. From the back of her cell, Gwen listened. This was a dangerous prison with a bunch of bad guys in it. There were a million reasons an alarm could be going off. Burned toast. Someone accidentally let two guys that hate each other out of their cells at the same time. Someone attacking a guard. These things happened a lot, and they weren’t worth watching. Everyone watched everyone in here. And the thing about watching, was that you were never the only one doing it. It was only a matter of time before someone started watching back. 

Gwen had learned to ignore the perpetual sense of danger. Everyone in here knew who she was- who Spider Woman was. So what? Everyone that mattered wanted nothing left to do with Spider Woman, anyway. The longer she stewed on it, the more it started to feel like they were all right. Peter, Miles, her dad, Miguel, Jess…intentional or not, it always went wrong. Maybe that was just how Gwen Stacy’s canon was always supposed to go. 

A chorus of whooping started to build from outside. That was…unusual. Was someone important paying a visit? A sudden pool of dread began to build in Gwen’s stomach at the thought of Captain Stacy finally braving the sight of his daughter behind bars for some kind of conversation. There was nowhere to run here. There were only so many useless items to toss or pretend to busy herself with to avoid looking at him.

The dread didn’t budge, but the tingling sense that often preempted their interactions was weirdly absent. 

Okay, so the commotion outside was safe. Nothing to do with her. 

Just stay away from the door and don’t draw attention to yourself. No biggie. 

The shape of someone moved from outside, blocking some of the light filtering into the cell. Stubbornly, Gwen remained on her bunk, forcing her gaze to stick to the ceiling. 

…Nothing. 

A defensive hint of tension began to creep into Gwen’s shoulders. Was this guy trying to look in? Had he been gawking at the people in all the other cells too?

“You know, you can go to prison for that.” Gwen remarked wryly before getting up to shoot her very best ‘screw off’ glare towards–

The Prowler?

…Oh. Well this was awkward. 

“Huh. And they said there was no one on my visitation list.” The spider remarked mildly in spite of the muscle memory that neatened her stance into something poised and ready.

((Starter for @a-punk-arachnid ))

[a-punk-arachnid]

“Oh cool, you’re here to check in.”

Miles simply slanted her a look.

Hah hah, Gwen, hilarious.

In spite of the quick quips and her casually conversational tone, he could read the tension in her frame, how intently she was watching his every move. If he wasn't careful about telegraphing his peaceful intentions, he knew what would happen.

Which was precisely why he was not going to be stepping inside that cell, or standing directly in front of the doorway. The last thing he needed was an uno reverse situation where he got locked up and Gwen dipped. The watch would probably get him out, of course, but it would be awkward to get her to listen if she'd already decided he was a threat and reacted accordingly.

“You okay there, pal?”

Oof, that obvious, huh? Well, in his defence, these keycards were not labelled clearly.

And the keypad mechanism seemed to be deliberately designed to be as user-unfriendly as possible. Huh. Maybe to stop people from doing what he was doing right now. Whatever. Third time lucky.

As he'd expected, putting his hands up and drawing attention to the watch on his wrist made his friend do a visible double take, her feet freezing in place.

Telling her would be a lot simpler. But somehow, it was easier to deal with Gwen looking at him like a strange new supervillain. He knew what she thought of the Prowler. He didn't feel ready to find out what she thought of Miles The Mistake.

 “You don’t know that.”

Uh, what? That hadn't been the response he'd expected, but it was starting to make a horrifying kind of sense. There was no way Spiderwoman could have just been caught and arrested by police, and not found a way to escape, unless...

Unless she thought she did belong here.

Captain Stacy had been the arresting officer. Stacy. Shit, had that been her dad?

"I do know that," Miles asserted emphatically, in the Prowler's low growl.

"You helped save the world, didn't you? This seems like a pretty poor way for your community to say thanks."

Bitterness dripped off his words as he thought of the hundreds of Spiderpeople who must've stood by and did nothing as Gwen was kicked out. Who were still doing nothing, despite at least some of them definitely knowing Gwen was stuck in here. Did they know that she'd turned herself in? Did they even care, so long as it didn't disrupt their precious canon events?

(How the hell was Spiderwoman sitting in prison not a huge breach of canon?!)

 “Nice watch. Who’d you steal it from?”

Oh, he recognised that little precursor move.

"Borrowed," Miles corrected her with a shrug, sidestepping further away from the door to shift out of web-slinging range, trying to draw this conversation out into the hallway.

"I borrowed it. From a, uh... a friend."

Was Peter still his friend? He'd seemed to want to be, enough so to come visit him against orders. But maybe he'd just been guilty about what had happened. Would he have come with Miles, if he'd shared his plans? Miles didn't know. The uncertainty hadn't been worth the risk of losing his only shot at this.

"Why are you still in there? What did you do that makes you think you're as bad as these guys?" Miles spread his clawed hands wide to gesture at the supervillains in the surrounding cells. There was a chorus of boos and heckling from the other prisoners now that they'd cottoned on to the fact that they weren't getting a bloodbath for their evening entertainment.

@ghost--rocker

🕷️ I'mma Do My Own Thing 🕷️

The noise was constant. 

This place- the place where the cops shoved all the bad guys and threw away the key- served as a perpetual reminder of everything. Everyone hated Spider Woman here. The cops. The people behind bars. Even the general public seemed to be conflicted. 

If my Peter was still here, none of this would have happened. Gwen thought to herself miserably. 

It hadn’t taken long for Captain Stacy to palm her off to a fresh-faced set of recruits. He’d hardly been able to look his daughter in the eye. Did he even consider her as his daughter any more? If he’d seen how the awful event had unfolded… if she’d just chosen the right words to explain it all, maybe he’d have understood. But he didn’t. Now he was gone. And so was everyone else. 

There was a stranger in the bookings booth, clicking the tip of his pen anxiously as his gaze flitted to the form in his hand for guidance before looking back to Gwen. 

“Any gang affiliations?”

“Oh, yeah. I can control spiders.” Gwen riposted flatly, fixing the booking officer with an unwavering stare. The young man hesitated for a moment, before scribbling a note on his form for good measure. 

“Anyone that might wanna hurt you in there?”

“Only all the guys I helped you arrest.” And maybe my dad, Gwen thought to herself bitterly. 

More scribbling. 

“Medical history?” 

“A spider bit me, this one time.” 

The officer’s head dipped back to his form. Gwen was certain the last word written was followed by a question mark. 

“Emergency contact?”

“Captain George Stacy.” 

–

The noise was constant. 

But the thing about constant noise was that you grew used to how it sounded. You learned what The Vulture sounded like when he snored across the hall. You could tune out Screwball babbling to a brick he’d etched a face into. You didn’t flinch whenever you heard the Jackal having another one of his laughing episodes. So when the pitch of noise shifted, so did everyone in their cell. 

An alarm was sounding somewhere in a distant hall. From the back of her cell, Gwen listened. This was a dangerous prison with a bunch of bad guys in it. There were a million reasons an alarm could be going off. Burned toast. Someone accidentally let two guys that hate each other out of their cells at the same time. Someone attacking a guard. These things happened a lot, and they weren’t worth watching. Everyone watched everyone in here. And the thing about watching, was that you were never the only one doing it. It was only a matter of time before someone started watching back. 

Gwen had learned to ignore the perpetual sense of danger. Everyone in here knew who she was- who Spider Woman was. So what? Everyone that mattered wanted nothing left to do with Spider Woman, anyway. The longer she stewed on it, the more it started to feel like they were all right. Peter, Miles, her dad, Miguel, Jess…intentional or not, it always went wrong. Maybe that was just how Gwen Stacy’s canon was always supposed to go. 

A chorus of whooping started to build from outside. That was…unusual. Was someone important paying a visit? A sudden pool of dread began to build in Gwen’s stomach at the thought of Captain Stacy finally braving the sight of his daughter behind bars for some kind of conversation. There was nowhere to run here. There were only so many useless items to toss or pretend to busy herself with to avoid looking at him.

The dread didn’t budge, but the tingling sense that often preempted their interactions was weirdly absent. 

Okay, so the commotion outside was safe. Nothing to do with her. 

Just stay away from the door and don’t draw attention to yourself. No biggie. 

The shape of someone moved from outside, blocking some of the light filtering into the cell. Stubbornly, Gwen remained on her bunk, forcing her gaze to stick to the ceiling. 

…Nothing. 

A defensive hint of tension began to creep into Gwen’s shoulders. Was this guy trying to look in? Had he been gawking at the people in all the other cells too?

“You know, you can go to prison for that.” Gwen remarked wryly before getting up to shoot her very best ‘screw off’ glare towards–

The Prowler?

…Oh. Well this was awkward. 

“Huh. And they said there was no one on my visitation list.” The spider remarked mildly in spite of the muscle memory that neatened her stance into something poised and ready.

((Starter for @a-punk-arachnid ))

[a-punk-arachnid]

Was this the right cell?

Nope.

Was this the right cell?

Nuh uh.

Jeez, this place was like a maze. How did anyone ever find their way around? Why were the cells in such a dumb order? Maybe the layout made more sense when you worked here. Maybe they didn't want it to be easily navigatable by supervillains breaking in to break their friends out of prison.

...Yeah, that was pretty fair.

The level of noise was growing as Miles honed in on the correct corridor. Prisoners were starting to notice the intruder - and apparently once they realised he wasn't here for them, suddenly he was the night's entertainment.

There was something deeply messed up about the fact that no one was calling for help, so much as heckling and cheering him on. For all they knew, he was here to kill one of their cellblock buddies. It wasn't like he was dressed as someone who was up to any good.

(This would've been so much easier if he had been able to turn invisible. A lot of things would've been easier, if his very identity as Spiderman hadn't been ripped away from him.)

When he stopped outside cell D106, the noise from the other prisoners crescendoed.

Wow, they really must have beef with whoever's in here.

...Gwen, is that you?

How the hell had Gwen ended up in this place, with all these bored bloodthirsty assholes? Why the hell did the news make it sound like her own dad had done the arresting?

The scanner in his uncle's mask helpfully flagged a person curled up on the bunk in the dark, with their back to him. Miles tilted his head a little, trying discern any familiar features to confirm he'd finally found who he was looking for.

“You know, you can go to prison for that.”

Oh, that was definitely Gwen.

Miles cocked his head a little at the quip - what, for staring?

...Oh.

Did he just get called a Peeping Tom?

Ew.

It was strange. Hearing her and seeing her face brought a surge of immense relief, but that relief was also accompanied by a stomach-swooping sense of discomfort and hurt and uncertainty. He'd been so focused on finding her, he hadn't actually figured out what the hell he was going to say.

Gwen took one look at him, and her guarded expression flickered with unmistakable apprehension.

"...Shoot."

It didn't feel good to be the recipient of that kind of look, but. In a way, it was a good thing she didn't know it was him yet. The mask made his silence seem cool and calculated instead of awkward, and hid how he was definitely staring at her like a dumb forelorn puppy right now.

It hurt to see the way his friend (were they still friends?) was readying herself for a fight. It hurt to be viewed as a threat.

You're a mistake! You're an abomination! Don't you get it? The biggest threat to the existence of the multiverse isn't Spot - it's you.

Miles clenched his clawed hand. No. He was going to fix things. He was. No matter what Miguel said, no matter that he wasn't - he wasn't Spiderman any more. That wouldn't stop him. He'd keep going, with the help of uncle Aaron's tech and the memory of his voice urging him onwards. Just keep going.

He'd gotten this far. He could do this.

“Huh. And they said there was no one on my visitation list.”

That would have been funny, if it it didn't strike such a heartwrenching chord with him. Wait, is she for real?

"...Damn. That's just sad," the jarringly deep modulated voice of the Prowler rumbled out, before Miles could remember that he was supposed to be playing stoic and silent.

Shit.

He attempted to recover from his blunder, raising a hand to swipe a keycard against the panel by the cell door.

"Well, I ain't here to visit."

It flashed red. Oops, wrong way. He tried again, and it flashed green; the locks disengaged with a heavy clunk.

Immediately, Miles stepped back away from the door with his hands held harmlessly upwards - I'm not here to fight you, see? - a gesture that also flashed the portal watch on his armoured wrist.

"C'mon, Gwen. This isn't where you belong."

@ghost--rocker

🕷️ I'mma Do My Own Thing 🕷️

The noise was constant. 

This place- the place where the cops shoved all the bad guys and threw away the key- served as a perpetual reminder of everything. Everyone hated Spider Woman here. The cops. The people behind bars. Even the general public seemed to be conflicted. 

If my Peter was still here, none of this would have happened. Gwen thought to herself miserably. 

It hadn’t taken long for Captain Stacy to palm her off to a fresh-faced set of recruits. He’d hardly been able to look his daughter in the eye. Did he even consider her as his daughter any more? If he’d seen how the awful event had unfolded… if she’d just chosen the right words to explain it all, maybe he’d have understood. But he didn’t. Now he was gone. And so was everyone else. 

There was a stranger in the bookings booth, clicking the tip of his pen anxiously as his gaze flitted to the form in his hand for guidance before looking back to Gwen. 

“Any gang affiliations?”

“Oh, yeah. I can control spiders.” Gwen riposted flatly, fixing the booking officer with an unwavering stare. The young man hesitated for a moment, before scribbling a note on his form for good measure. 

“Anyone that might wanna hurt you in there?”

“Only all the guys I helped you arrest.” And maybe my dad, Gwen thought to herself bitterly. 

More scribbling. 

“Medical history?” 

“A spider bit me, this one time.” 

The officer’s head dipped back to his form. Gwen was certain the last word written was followed by a question mark. 

“Emergency contact?”

“Captain George Stacy.” 

–

The noise was constant. 

But the thing about constant noise was that you grew used to how it sounded. You learned what The Vulture sounded like when he snored across the hall. You could tune out Screwball babbling to a brick he’d etched a face into. You didn’t flinch whenever you heard the Jackal having another one of his laughing episodes. So when the pitch of noise shifted, so did everyone in their cell. 

An alarm was sounding somewhere in a distant hall. From the back of her cell, Gwen listened. This was a dangerous prison with a bunch of bad guys in it. There were a million reasons an alarm could be going off. Burned toast. Someone accidentally let two guys that hate each other out of their cells at the same time. Someone attacking a guard. These things happened a lot, and they weren’t worth watching. Everyone watched everyone in here. And the thing about watching, was that you were never the only one doing it. It was only a matter of time before someone started watching back. 

Gwen had learned to ignore the perpetual sense of danger. Everyone in here knew who she was- who Spider Woman was. So what? Everyone that mattered wanted nothing left to do with Spider Woman, anyway. The longer she stewed on it, the more it started to feel like they were all right. Peter, Miles, her dad, Miguel, Jess…intentional or not, it always went wrong. Maybe that was just how Gwen Stacy’s canon was always supposed to go. 

A chorus of whooping started to build from outside. That was…unusual. Was someone important paying a visit? A sudden pool of dread began to build in Gwen’s stomach at the thought of Captain Stacy finally braving the sight of his daughter behind bars for some kind of conversation. There was nowhere to run here. There were only so many useless items to toss or pretend to busy herself with to avoid looking at him.

The dread didn’t budge, but the tingling sense that often preempted their interactions was weirdly absent. 

Okay, so the commotion outside was safe. Nothing to do with her. 

Just stay away from the door and don’t draw attention to yourself. No biggie. 

The shape of someone moved from outside, blocking some of the light filtering into the cell. Stubbornly, Gwen remained on her bunk, forcing her gaze to stick to the ceiling. 

…Nothing. 

A defensive hint of tension began to creep into Gwen’s shoulders. Was this guy trying to look in? Had he been gawking at the people in all the other cells too?

“You know, you can go to prison for that.” Gwen remarked wryly before getting up to shoot her very best ‘screw off’ glare towards–

The Prowler?

…Oh. Well this was awkward. 

“Huh. And they said there was no one on my visitation list.” The spider remarked mildly in spite of the muscle memory that neatened her stance into something poised and ready.

((Starter for @a-punk-arachnid ))