Gwen did not mean to make a habit of skipping classes or neglecting school work. It was apparently something that just happened as a side of effect of being a vigilante.
Ugh.
The word made her cringe, and she adjusted the strap of her bag higher on her shoulder before it could fall off. It was unlikely there was another word for whatever she was doing, but typically the only thing she could think of was the way her father used to say it with disgust. He often spoke of the Avengers or the Fantastic Four with the same amount of disdain as anyone else who seemed to hold themselves above the law. Sometimes the law just wasn't high enough. Sometimes the law needed help.
But the law was a fickle and subjective thing; typically not very grateful.
News of what was happening in Central Park, began as a murmur. A subtle change in volume as riders on the subway received alerts on their phones. Faces twisted in concern as information was shared with friends and fellow passengers. Gwen was silently observant to the change, she left her ear buds in, but turned off the music so she could eavesdrop without being obvious. Looking down at her own phone only revealed a message from Mary Jane with a single word. Don't.
Gwen Stacy was a lot of things, but she was not a very good at following directions.
Pushing her way off the subway at the next stop, she attempted to decipher bits of conversations that she heard in the crowd. Words like wormhole and dinosaur seemed to fall into place neatly. Others such as machine gun and squirrel seemed out of place.
Further investigation required.
Changing into your Crime Fighting Costume in a low-traffic alley, left a lot to be desired. Gwen contemplated this as she tossed her hood up over her mask and began to scale the brick wall of the towering apartment building. This is why she needed a cool hideout, like Avengers Mansion or the Baxter Building. It was needless to say that she was a bit jealous.
She briefly wondered if either organization accepted applications.
She scolded herself, because now was certainly not the time. She should probably be focusing on how dinosaurs and machine guns went together; also, jumping off this roof.
Too late, she'd jumped. And now she was falling. She pushed her hand forward and webbing shot from the canister on her wrist. Catching a nearby flagpole she used the momentum to propel herself forward.
Forget the subway. This was the easiest way around New York.
She made it to Central Park in what could have been record time if there was anyone around that kept track of those things. She alighted upon a lamppost and crouched down do check out the scene.
Wormhole: Check.
Dinosaur: Check
Oh, wow. Even a machine gun. This still didn't make any sense but all the pieces were there so far. So that was cool.
She hopped off the post just in time to miss a spray of bullets. This dinosaur was not a very good shot. She decided to tell it that.
"You're not a very good shot!" She calls, touching ground as the dinosaur continued to flail. It was trying to remove something she couldn't see from a spot it couldn't reach. While simultaneously arguing with someone else. Gwen looked around.
"Oooh, heeey. Squirrel Girl. Now that makes way more sense."
Ugh.
The word made her cringe, and she adjusted the strap of her bag higher on her shoulder before it could fall off. It was unlikely there was another word for whatever she was doing, but typically the only thing she could think of was the way her father used to say it with disgust. He often spoke of the Avengers or the Fantastic Four with the same amount of disdain as anyone else who seemed to hold themselves above the law. Sometimes the law just wasn't high enough. Sometimes the law needed help.
But the law was a fickle and subjective thing; typically not very grateful.
News of what was happening in Central Park, began as a murmur. A subtle change in volume as riders on the subway received alerts on their phones. Faces twisted in concern as information was shared with friends and fellow passengers. Gwen was silently observant to the change, she left her ear buds in, but turned off the music so she could eavesdrop without being obvious. Looking down at her own phone only revealed a message from Mary Jane with a single word. Don't.
Gwen Stacy was a lot of things, but she was not a very good at following directions.
Pushing her way off the subway at the next stop, she attempted to decipher bits of conversations that she heard in the crowd. Words like wormhole and dinosaur seemed to fall into place neatly. Others such as machine gun and squirrel seemed out of place.
Further investigation required.
Changing into your Crime Fighting Costume in a low-traffic alley, left a lot to be desired. Gwen contemplated this as she tossed her hood up over her mask and began to scale the brick wall of the towering apartment building. This is why she needed a cool hideout, like Avengers Mansion or the Baxter Building. It was needless to say that she was a bit jealous.
She briefly wondered if either organization accepted applications.
She scolded herself, because now was certainly not the time. She should probably be focusing on how dinosaurs and machine guns went together; also, jumping off this roof.
Too late, she'd jumped. And now she was falling. She pushed her hand forward and webbing shot from the canister on her wrist. Catching a nearby flagpole she used the momentum to propel herself forward.
Forget the subway. This was the easiest way around New York.
She made it to Central Park in what could have been record time if there was anyone around that kept track of those things. She alighted upon a lamppost and crouched down do check out the scene.
Wormhole: Check.
Dinosaur: Check
Oh, wow. Even a machine gun. This still didn't make any sense but all the pieces were there so far. So that was cool.
She hopped off the post just in time to miss a spray of bullets. This dinosaur was not a very good shot. She decided to tell it that.
"You're not a very good shot!" She calls, touching ground as the dinosaur continued to flail. It was trying to remove something she couldn't see from a spot it couldn't reach. While simultaneously arguing with someone else. Gwen looked around.
"Oooh, heeey. Squirrel Girl. Now that makes way more sense."
I fear no fate (for you are my fate, my sweet) I want no world (for beautiful you are my world, my true) and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant and whatever a sun will always sing is you.
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