Look 'bad luck' up in the dictionary. Go on. We'll wait. See there? That picture of an awkward college student tripping over his own feet? That's Peter Parker. He's majoring in chemical engineering, and by some stroke of (you guessed it) bad luck, t...
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Ever found yourself just spacing out and losing track of time? Peter certainly wasn't a stranger to that. However...slipping out of a trance and suddenly realising he had no idea where he was or what day it was? That was new.
The New York skyline extended across the horizon, washed in the deep black of the midnight sky. Speckled lights of cars, street lights, and buildings twinkled like tiny stars. The beauty of it almost distracted Peter from the fact that he was hanging on the side of a skyscraper...and had no clue as to how he got there.
"O-Okay..." Peter muttered. He sent his eyes down. He had to be, like, eighty floors up. Yeah...crawling down from up here was gonna take like half an hour, so he'd just have to jump. Preparing to push of the building, however, Peter brought his right hand up in front of him and glanced at his wrist.
Suddenly, his stomach twisted. His web shooters weren't on. What the hell happened? He never put on the costume without the web-shooters. Hold on...the costume?
His focus drifted onto his actual arm. To be more specific, what was on it. "What the hell...?" He didn't remember ever having black gloves.
Peter flexed his fingers. He then turned around, seeing that the windows of the building he was attached to were incredibly reflective... He saw that there was not a single speck of red or blue on him. His entire body was covered by a suit as dark as midnight. Whatever it was, it didn't crease or bunch up at all. Like it was...a second skin.
Gone were the webbing patterns that he spent so much time designing and stitching. The only other colour on this suit was white; two teardrop-shaped eyes, and a massive spider emblem plastered over his chest and upper abdomen. The legs of this spider wrapped around his ribs, linking up with an identical symbol on his back.
Peter had to admit, he did have fleeting thoughts about redesigning the suit with this kind of minimalist flavour...but that's all they were. Thoughts.
Then the physical sensations started trailing into his mind. Sure, Spider-Man could stick to walls. But you try holding yourself up on the side of a rock-climbing wall; your muscles needed to support all of your weight whilst gravity was fighting to pull you down.
Right now? Peter felt nothing. No ache, no cramp, nothing.
"I guess I should...go home," Peter mumbled to himself.
Before he turned himself upside down to start the painstaking crawl back to ground level, because he certainly wasn't going to jump without web shooters, Spidey dropped a hand from the surface of the skyscraper to peer over his shoulder once again at the streets below. As he hung there, one hand and both feet fixed to wall, his free hand twitched.
He thought about how much time it would've saved if he had his goddamn web shooters on him.
Thwip!
That was it. Peter knew this day would come. He had completely and utterly lost his marbles. It was inevitable, he thought. Eventually, one day, shit would get so crazy that his tiny brain couldn't handle it anymore. This was that day.
