ɢᴡᴇɴ sᴛᴀᴄʏ ❚ SPIDER-WOMAN (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
construing) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
epidemiology2016-10-01 12:21 pm
construing) wrote in epidemiology2016-10-01 12:21 pm
( open. )
CHARACTERS: gwen; you
DATE: first week of perdition's rest
WARNINGS: nerdery probably
SUMMARY: catch-all
gwen, however, wouldn't mind some comped drinks. ( the comped board is how she knows she's not in new york anymore. )
it doesn't take long to rig. drums and their like are ubiquitous everywhere. human or not, everyone likes to wail on things. she manages to borrow one, rig together two more, borrows a line of bottles which she fills to different amounts under miz poppy's skeptical eye, arms herself with sticks then takes the stage.
it's not quite a drum kit and the event is definitely not a rock show. but gwen plays. she adopts jazz infusions, incorporates rock leanings or mixes both depending on requests. she shows off: tossing the sticks high to beat the skins with her hands before catching them; drawing recognizable tunes from her line of bottles; listening to songs hummed or sung to her by the qorral once or twice, then evoking them with flair from her drums.
she plays for the rowdy and mellow alike. she volunteers herself for those who'd like musical accompaniment on stage. she drinks and takes requests and is as relaxed as she ever is, more at home behind the instruments where they take the focus: she only facilitates the music. ]
pavitr would be feverishly drawing star maps. peter, version ham, would have found pork somewhere probably to her eternal disgust. gwen's fingers trip across the wristband of the dimensional travel device. she misses them. pavitr and peter, billy, anya, everyone else. it feels weird. being stuck in an alternate universe without the spider-crew. just her and ( a ) spider-man.
so many times she felt alone. for the first time, she is alone. gwen fiddles with the sleeve of her jacket.
when she hears someone underneath, she looks down. stranger or friend get the same greeting, ] Nice night.
DATE: first week of perdition's rest
WARNINGS: nerdery probably
SUMMARY: catch-all
SALOON.[ performers wanted, huh? the times that spider-woman would break onto a television set to show off for the cameras have long since been left in the past. spider-woman, consummate performer that she is, is not a gimmick. she can't afford to be.
gwen, however, wouldn't mind some comped drinks. ( the comped board is how she knows she's not in new york anymore. )
it doesn't take long to rig. drums and their like are ubiquitous everywhere. human or not, everyone likes to wail on things. she manages to borrow one, rig together two more, borrows a line of bottles which she fills to different amounts under miz poppy's skeptical eye, arms herself with sticks then takes the stage.
it's not quite a drum kit and the event is definitely not a rock show. but gwen plays. she adopts jazz infusions, incorporates rock leanings or mixes both depending on requests. she shows off: tossing the sticks high to beat the skins with her hands before catching them; drawing recognizable tunes from her line of bottles; listening to songs hummed or sung to her by the qorral once or twice, then evoking them with flair from her drums.
she plays for the rowdy and mellow alike. she volunteers herself for those who'd like musical accompaniment on stage. she drinks and takes requests and is as relaxed as she ever is, more at home behind the instruments where they take the focus: she only facilitates the music. ]
CHURCH.[ gwen stacy ( wearing a massive cowboy hat because of course, she got one ) is on the roof. how did she get up there, you might ask? the old-fashioned way, actually. by climbing ( and not the wall-crawling way, either. ) her backpack sits with her as she sits on the edge, her feet gently swinging in the cool evening air. her head is turned up; she studies the night sky, the unfamiliar constellations.
pavitr would be feverishly drawing star maps. peter, version ham, would have found pork somewhere probably to her eternal disgust. gwen's fingers trip across the wristband of the dimensional travel device. she misses them. pavitr and peter, billy, anya, everyone else. it feels weird. being stuck in an alternate universe without the spider-crew. just her and ( a ) spider-man.
so many times she felt alone. for the first time, she is alone. gwen fiddles with the sleeve of her jacket.
when she hears someone underneath, she looks down. stranger or friend get the same greeting, ] Nice night.
CHOOSE YOUR OWN ADVENTURE.[ what it says on the tin! or ask for a starter and I'll get that to you :'> ]
no subject
[Jin shakes his head, squinting into the dark.]
All righty, then. Forty-six-- [he cranes his neck to look over Gwen's shoulder at the percentage, then frowns:] forty-five percent. That's plenty.
[He takes some tentative steps around the area: he's not much bothered by the claustrophobic area that surrounds them, but it is a pain in the ass.]
Watch yourself. There's a lot of broken pieces of old equipment lying around.
no subject
Still as long as you're not the funny one in your group, I think you have a chance. [ aka she'll call dibs on being the funny one. because she's a pal.
gwen shines the lights on the walls and ceilings before returning it to the floor for the sake of their feet. it slopes down gradually at first, then more steeply. the deeper they venture, the cooler and damper the air around them. the smell of earth is strong for, well, obvious fucking reasons. still. gwen wrinkles her nose. ]
This is kind of amazing in a "we're gutting this planet like it tried to kill Uma Thurman on her wedding" way. [ the walls echo her voice back to her. ] By the same logic, also kind of really messed up.
How deep do you figure these tunnels go?