BUT MY HEART IS WILD, AND MY BONES ARE STEEL

[webdesigned]

CHARACTERS: peter parker & YOU
DATE: 3/22 - 3/23
WARNINGS: violence?? possibly... some cannibalism attempts, jfc
SUMMARY: turns out that a mild coma didn't actually keep the virus from progressing, and now that he's out and about at nearly 7 weeks infected, things are a bit bad. time to catch a spider. easy, right?



SANS.

( when he finally figured out his infected state, his only option seemed to be isolation. it was not a great plan, admittedly. he hadn't had a lot of time to make it, even if he'd promised Keith to make preparations just in case. he couldn't hole up in quarantine, not when he was a threat to anyone that hazarded going too close, so that meant more extreme measures.

one little slip was all it took to devastate. Stiles had been proof of that. Peter refused to let there be another slip.

the plan was simple. lock himself away where the infected numbers were high, to keep anyone from finding him. steal enough barbiturates to keep himself under as... well, as long as he needed to be. he had not been concerned with an endgame. it could have worked, maybe, if he'd trusted someone else to be close enough to monitor him. the dispenser he'd made did its job, but he'd discounted exactly how much of the drug he'd need to even drag him under. he hadn't taken enough to last even a week.

when he woke, he was not the same person that had been willing to render himself comatose to protect everyone in Woodhurst.

he was no longer thinking; his thoughts were burned away in the fever of his hunger. nothing else mattered. so when he crawled from the sewers, he doesn't exactly seem like someone wise to get particularly close to. there's already blood on his hands, his pupils so wide in the dark his eyes almost seem black — and if that weren't eerie enough, the first hint at a sound makes him react, and not simply by running. that'd be too easy, wouldn't it?

no, crawling along the wall suits him just fine, at a rather alarming speed. it seems rife for a horror movie, only it's reality, and it is a reality that is coming in a little too quickly. the sound that had caught his attention was a woman walking to her car, unaware of the danger lingering in the dark. leaping from a wall to land on her is enough to knock her to the ground and knock her out in one fell swoop, which might be just as well. she won't have to feel his teeth sinking into her arm. )

REIKA.

( turns out, when someone capable of crawling up walls and throwing cars starts a frenzy in the middle of downtown, it draws attention. especially when the count of injuries is climbing and climbing fast. the screams, the cries for help, the few people left on the streets fleeing for safety seems to have little effect on him anymore. if anything it seems to set him off, throwing whatever he can reach at the nearest sound. which is a bit of a problem, when he can lift just about any car he comes across.

he doesn't exactly hear the threat coming. no, he feels it, a shiver down his spine, hairs standing on end. even with the knowledge it's coming, he doesn't bother to stop chasing the next mark he's after. he crawls after his fleeing target, skittering along the wall with demented focus. even as the terrified civilian screams for help and stumbles into the street. it doesn't matter how much he eats anymore, he's still hungry — and he seems to have decided on his next meal. )

NOT SO SUPER AFTER ALL. (OTA)

( spider-man is actually only so amazing. he can crawl up walls and lift incredible weights, yet he's far from invincible. he might have done well to remember that a lot sooner, chances were a lot of people would have been saved a lot of pain.

still, he's been chased and pursued, and by individuals strong enough to actually keep up with him. more than keep up, really. his brain was burned into thoughtless fever, and his actions were stuck on instinct, instead of forethought. Audentes wasn't the only thing he had to worry about, either, as Woodhurst was determined to fight back as well. for example, getting hit by that pest control van had definitely not been expected. who could really expect that kind of irony?

he's hidden in the dark, pressed against a wall and nearly dazed. he definitely looks as if he's in need of help, though considering the smudges of blood on his face and hands... you might not want to risk it. )

HAISE.

( there are only two things that matter to him at the moment. trying to sate the endless hunger that only seems to be amplified the more he tries to silence it, and evading those that have intent on keeping him from it. evading violently, if need be. he's somehow managed to avoid capture this long, and that's in no small part from how capable he is at slipping away, and hearing who might be after him before he can even see them.

still, he's running on madness, not sense. not to mention Peter had been wise enough to take off the webslingers that allowed him to move through the air so quickly, just in case. hard to say if he'd even have the sense to use them, now, though if he could it was certainly for the best he didn't have the option. he's not as fast as he could be and that leaves him open to intervention.

even though he's not particularly inclined toward the idea.

he's distracted, trying to beat down a heavy metal barricade that was hiding something to eat. the screams inside only seemed to make him work more feverishly, like a panicked promise if he could just manage to get inside. terrifyingly, he's doing a damned good job beating the metal in with his fists — unless someone can stop him. )

Comments

MAYBE SUPER DUPER AFTER ALL?

[deemed]

[Whatever else Odinson is (an unworthy, worthless failure, for example) he's both beyond the reach of mortal disease and unconcerned about any injuries the infected might do to him. Since he's good for little else here, he's volunteered to walk the streets alone to keep an ear our for any cries for help or to subdue any infected he comes across.

He enjoys the solitude- the few other pedestrians give him wary glances, but otherwise ignore the tall man who isn't dressed for the cold weather. As he walks, he considers his situation. ALISTAIR haven't yet sold him on this plan to save the universe through do-gooding, and the more he sees of his teammates the more he wonders if they could save the universe in the first place.

A noise in an alley draws his attention, and he pauses to look down into the darkness. At first he thinks it is a cat he's heard, then his eyes adjust to the dark.

It is not a cat.]

Hail, you there! Do you need assistance?

what's a superhero anyway

[secondnature]

[At the beginning of this "hunt," Keith hadn't been clear on why he was doing it, feeling somewhat divided between his loyalties to his friends and to the bigger picture. He's now adjusted to that. Of course, he's also had his butt handed to him by Peter along the way, and he's ... pretty aware of why Peter needs to be found. Not only is he hurting others, he gets the feeling that he's hurting himself.

These days, Keith is a lot more aware of what that means.

When he finds Peter this time, he keeps his distance, ensuring that the light that his suit gives off shows where Peter is, but doesn't hit his eyes in a way that might startle him.]

Peter? Come on, we have to get you home. [He wishes he could say anything that would coax Peter home, but he ... doubts that's going to happen.]

[webdesigned]

( home. that's a pretty hard thing to accomplish, Keith, hate to break it to you. his home was a universe away, and the people who made it feel like home were all mostly gone. home is a hard thing to give back to an orphan, even if the idea of it had been destroyed years upon years ago.

it doesn't really matter, though, because in the burn of infected hunger doesn't need or want a home.

he's beaten down, yes, though that doesn't do that much to make him less dangerous. he watches the threat with dark eyes, whatever he might be feeling isn't apparent on his features, other than the fact he's watching. a bad sign, really, because Peter Parker talks almost as much with his expression as he does with the mouth he doesn't seem to be able to close.

which, if you think about it... is also a concern. )

[secondnature]

[The meaning of what he said is—will remain—lost on Keith. Home for him is the people who matter to him a lot, and he's come to realize that includes ... friends these days. To Keith, "home" for Peter is "with Stiles." Sometimes, his thought process is simpler.

Keith also isn't the greatest at reading expressions. He doesn't know Peter as well as he knows Stiles, but the pressing silence seems to be answer enough for him.]

Do you even hear me? Can you hear me? Honestly, you're one of the few I've tried talking to. [Well, at this stage of it. Ready to swing out a shield (even if it hasn't been summoned yet), he takes a step forward with a noticeable amount of trepidation.]

this tag was so hurtful and i don't even know if you meant it to be omg

[webdesigned]

( hearing is one thing. understanding is another. of course he can hear Keith. he can hear rats eating in the dumpster down the street. the words just don't matter to him at all, they don't sink in or register. his brain doesn't bother to process them, because they have nothing to do with silencing his hunger and therefore, don't matter terribly much.

the step forward is what seems to register, more so than anything else. while most of his capacities were completely geared toward sating the hunger, there's at least a bit of him left that is set on survival. looking at him for half a second can would indicate Peter's already ran into a bit of trouble.

he can't quite decide if Keith is more, or an easy meal.

he also doesn't intend to sit still and let a potential threat close, even if it means moving when he's injured. he grits his teeth and forces movement, and quite sudden movement, all things considered. instead of just standing, he crawls along the floor and then along the wall and stops at the ceiling. oh yeah, all that, perfectly normal. when his attention returns to Keith, he's back to evaluating... a spider, waiting for the perfect trap.)

let's do this kiddo

[skelepun]

[Woodhurst wasn't a pleasant place after dark, not lately. Groans and shouts and screams were as commonplace now as the sound of rushing water and wind rushing down the mountainside were back home. A decidedly different ambiance, but nevertheless... it's amazing how fast you could get used to something.

Propped up against a brick wall in the alley next to Benny's, Sans tossed a few errant french fries to a rat. He should get back. Papyrus was probably home with Charlie and either Undyne or Mettaton (definitely not both) would be around too. It'd be a nicer scene than a dark alley, but far be it from Sans to cheat himself out of a little alone time.

It got a little tiring sometimes, pretending to be a Sans he wasn't. Kicking it alone for a bit was a welcome reprieve.

Of course, the sound of a manhole scraping against wet pavement wasn't exactly relaxing. Sans takes an instinctive step back, further hiding himself in the shadows of a nearby fire escape. He can't recognize the guy immediately, squinting through the dark. Infected, that was for sure. A teenager, probably? Brown hair. Lanky.

Wearing a... wait a sec.

Realization came too late. The infected kid -- jeez, Sans didn't even think to get his name -- caught the scent of someone and was off. Back still pressed up against the brick wall, Sans hesitates. Getting involved. Not really his scene. And yet... that was the same kid that--

A woman's scream cuts off that line of thought. See? This is what hesitation gets you. Sans takes a step forward, but his foot connects not with the alley's grimy pavement but the parking lot, a few feet away from the scream's origin.]

Hey, remember me? [He asks, not waiting for an answer before sending the kid up sharply, followed by a more gentle shift left. The woman, terrified, takes off towards her car before Sans can think to say anything. She was almost certainly infected, but... well. Someone could deal with her in four weeks.

His attentions turn back to the kid, magic still attempting to keep him grounded.]

We gotta get you to quarantine, pal.

[webdesigned]

( even with his head mostly blind to the handy symptoms of bristol, there's something quite alarming about being moved without having much say in the matter. for a moment, it stuns him docile, though the tense knit of his muscle might indicate that won't last for very long. he mutters a snarl with bloodied teeth as his meal darts away, before he can even really start it — the blood coats his tongue, demands more, and there's nothing—

until dark eyes turn on the bizarre looking man that had the wise idea of saying something to him. there's no way for an infected brain to understand that what he is looking at won't feed him any. there's no way for him to really comprehend Sans is the source of restraint, either. all he sees is a possibility for calming the demand to feed, and that's all that really matters to him, anyway. he forgets his last target and paints a new one right on the figure he'd been calling a hero not so very long ago.

from still to a sudden lurch, he aims for the figure, not reacting even minutely to the words. if he even heard them, it isn't apparent. instead he is throwing all his weight behind into leaping on his new prospective meal. an honestly shocking amount of weight for a lanky kid that looks like he's missed one or two or twenty hamburgers in recent weeks. magic holding him or not, it's very clear he does not intend to stay put, not when there's a replacement meal close enough to try and latch onto. )

[skelepun]

[At the end of the day, blue magic was an inhibitor, not a stopper. Sans could've piled enough gravity on the kid to make his bones bend, but that wouldn't change the fact that it could still be fought.

And boy, this kid sure did have a lot of fight in him.]

Dang. [Sans says, sounding a little breathless (somehow) as he reappears about ten feet to the left of where Peter just lunged.] You are hungry, huh? I'm just bones, pal.

[A line of blue bones crop up from the pavement, encircling Peter. A cage, much like the one he'd made in the mall's impromptu quarantine. They would sting on contact, though... pain tolerances were different for everyone.]

[webdesigned]

( there's no part of him left that could recognize the trap he's in. it is one he's seen before, even if he had done his damnedest not to think about it terribly much. Peter Parker was sort of like that, when it came to magic. he preferred his science, so push come to shove he wouldn't think about it until he had time to really think about it, and hopefully come up with a scientific explanation for it. Woodhurst? not exactly flowing with free time.

with most of his sense lost to Bristol, though, he's more creature than human. magic doesn't necessarily make any more sense with most of his faculties shut off. his first reaction was to keep at his track of getting closer, and that was by crawling. he didn't care what kind of cage he was in, it looked plenty easy to climb out—

he gasps in pain when he reaches to touch it, though, the blue bones used to restrain him at least mildly painful. mildly. not enough to make him content to stay still. what was a little sting compared to the claw of hunger, a destructive power so strong it couldn't be silenced? so the next time he ignores the sting on contact, clambering up the bones and tries to go right back to where he started, launching back towards the all-too-tasty looking potential meal. )

makes my own super prompt since I'm not special enough to get my own!!! X(

[feytality]

[Yeah, most people probably wouldn't risk it. (Un?)Fortunately, Maya isn't most people, and she's already on the lookout for Peter.]

[Looks like she found him. She knows he's far along in terms of the infection -- but she can't help but feel a surge of relief when she spots him. She touches the extra magatama around her neck that serves as her Magitek, shooting Stiles a quick message--- I found him, before slowly approaching her star player, who's seen better days, from the looks of it.]

[She's nervous, because she's not a complete idiot -- but she ignores it. This is about him, not about her. If she can stop him from hurting anyone (else) -- a little risk is worth it. What kind of coach would she be if she let her star player run rampant?]

Peter? What are you doing hanging out over here? If you're trying to spice up your baseball moves, a dark corner's no place to practice!

omg why are you putting me on public blast like this sipp im a good person

[webdesigned]

( yeah, her star player just got ran over by a van not too long ago. safe to say he's not looking like he'll be any help on a field... you'd probably have to throw raw meat at it to even get him to bother, and nobody wants to watch zombie baseball league.

or do they? actually, people really might watch that.

he doesn't react much, for what it's worth. though, in the state of infection he's reached, it's hard to tell if that's a good thing or not. now his mind is a mystery, if one could argue it was even working at all. Peter has never been gifted at hiding what he's feeling, and now there's frighteningly little to pull from his expression.

though his eyes narrow and his head tilts — almost like a confused puppy, only covered in blood and bruises, so probably less charming overall. hard to tell if that's a sign, though, that somewhere in the madness she could be reaching something; or just a silent assessment of a new potential meal. )

you broke my tender kokoro

[feytality]

[That'd be a great attraction, honestly. It'd skyrocket them both to fame!!]

[Too bad Maya has other things on her mind now-- namely getting her mentee off the streets before he can hurt anyone else. It's hard to get a sense of what he's thinking when he's lurking in the dark and his expression's so terse and blank. It's kind of jarring with how expressive he usually is -- even if she hasn't known him long -- but there's no time to dwell on that.]

[She keeps moving forward, until she gets a better look at him and-- huh. He's run into trouble, that's for sure]

--What happened to you? You look like you got hit by a truck!

sumimasen, senpai T~~~~T

[webdesigned]

( haha, about that!! in his infected state, Peter can't pause to breakdown all he's been through tonight. she's not too far off about that whole hit by a truck thing, though. it's not even the first time that's happened to him, honestly, though usually he has the presence of mind to go slink it off in his own bed instead of a dark corner.

it doesn't seem to be very easy for him to struggle back to his feet, though he does. peeling off the wall, he starts to move, and move closer at that. there's no hint of recognition to speak of, it'd probably be a good idea to be just about anywhere but here now that he's mobile again. he certainly has an agenda in mind, and it can't be good.

c'mon, Maya... it's time for those self preservation skills to kick in... if you run, he might not actually have it in him to chase you. )

[keeper]

[ She'd been trawling the sewers when word had spread of a missing Peter Parker, and she's been keeping an eye out best she can both in the tunnels and topside. (In a city with no shortage of brunette, adolescent males however...)

—But this one does seem familiar, a face she's (probably?) seen intermittently around the network. She remembers their teammate's vague warning—He's going to be more dangerous than your usual infected person—and treads quite carefully in her approach.

(The dark red smears across his face and hands do not escape her.) ]

...You are... Peter?

[ A feeble question, if not attempt at a conversation, but she does her best. ]

[webdesigned]

( it's only for the sake of exactly how knocked around he was that it was possible to spot him in a state of relative calm. calm, for an infected; calm, only considering the fact he'd been jumping off buildings and crawling up walls not too long ago in his desperate attempts to silence even the slightest bit of his hunger.

for once, though, he's not completely lost to the virus. after seeing Maya, he's definitely a little shaken, lingering bits of the person that didn't want any of this a little too close to the surface. he's running to protect others instead of himself, though it's impossible to say how long he will be lucid enough to make the distinction.

he's running, but he's hurt, and there's only so far he can go without trying to collect himself again. he winces at the sound of a voice, a reminder of his name. that's more than most tonight have gotten, though — usually he didn't seem to react to words at all. ) You've got to go, ( is all he says, voice strained and breathing still labored. he didn't hear her coming in the distraction of his pain, but now she's here and he is so hungry.... )

[keeper]

[ He sounds... almost afraid. Whether for her, or himself, she doesn't know, but here lies her immediate dilemma:

An injured, infected recruit on the outskirts of town, a potential threat to his teammates and the rest of Woodhurst's population. All she knows is he can't be considered average, but even then he can't possibly continue to function forever without rest or recovery. (There's only so much damage a body can sustain before system failure.)

Does she try to heal him? She would be making him even more dangerous than he already is. But if she doesn't, how much more can he suffer before he falls...? ]

...You need help.

[ She doesn't have a cure, it's not even ready yet... (What piercing irony, to be facing someone who had been working so diligently to develop it, and not to be able to offer the results.) ...But she can't abandon him, either. Whether he's a strange or a friend, it makes no difference; her conscience simply won't permit it. ]

...Let me bring you to someone who can. Please.

[ Perhaps... he can be kept sedated with a constant stream of chemicals, horrible as it sounds. But she doesn't know what other options there are. She takes a careful step forward, expression taut with genuine concern. ]

LET'S GET DOWN TO BUSINESS TO DEFEAT... THE SPIDEY

[figureitout]

[ when he receives the message, his heart nearly stops. no — it probably does, for a beat, a beat long enough for him to close his eyes, to lean his head against his knees where he's sitting down on the floor of Olivia's house, to take a moment to let the relief-worry-relief-panic-relief-haste take its course before he lifts his head, looks at Olivia, reaches for her so he can squeeze her hand, to have some physical reassurance as he speaks out the words, ]

That was Maya. She's found him.

[ the please come with me goes without saying.

after that, it takes them mere minutes to be out the door and to his jeep, where he turns to Olivia, keys in his hand. ] Do you want to track her and navigate, or drive? [ he could do either — it's a wonder he can even pause to ask, but they have to be prepared to get there as fast as they can... and he isn't sure how well she knows the streets, the turns, if she can direct him to where they need to go the fastest route. the mere idea of handing his jeep over to her to drive speaks volumes of his trust. ]

[winces]

[ olivia reaches for the keys in his hands, but instead of taking them, she simply curls his fingers back over it. ]

I'll find her, and you get us there.

[ she has driven all of once, and then too with stiles in the passenger seat. it had been daylight then, with no worries and no fears holding her back. and while she believes she can get them there fast, she knows that stiles, too, would not be hesitating now...

but more than that, she knows that he would need this, this little, perhaps even insignificant thing, to grant him that tiny semblance of control before he throws it all out the window once more. as one always does when following their heart. ]

I may not know the roads, but I know these streets. [ she has walked them many times, and as such has come to know their ins and outs, their little secrets and tricks. she climbs into the passenger seat, reaching for the seatbelt, and activating the gps on her magitek. ]

It'll all be over soon, Stiles.

[figureitout]

[ as it so often seems to be, Olivia knows exactly what to say — no, not only the words. she knows what he needs, in order to pull through this, to keep himself together and not shatter, not now when they're so close. throughout the past days, she's been the force grounding him, she quiet support when he has anxiously paced around the living room, the voice of reason pushing him to eat, sleep.

he knows he can never repay her for all her kindness, just as he knows she would never accept the idea.

he takes the keys, exhales, nods. they can do this. ]

Yeah, [ he says, voice shaking as he closes the car door, starts the engine. ] As long as we find her, we find him. And then we'll calm him down. It's... it'll be fine.

[ but as much as the haste is burning at the back of his mind, urging him to go, go, he takes an extra second to look at Olivia, to reach over to take her hand, entwine their fingers. ] Thanks for coming with me.

[ thanks for being here with me, for me. ]

animal planet presents: centipede vs spider

[ex_adept136]

[Haise is on patrol when he catches the scent. He follows it to a building, and he's circling around it when he hears the terrified screams and thunderous pounding of fists against metal. It doesn't sound like the sort of impact a normal human is capable of, not to his ears — and he wonders if that's why Stiles was so very concerned. Circumstances were worrying enough, but now...

He thinks to contact his associate, to alert him, but the screams grow more terrified. A child's voice hits a shrill pitch that makes him wince, nearly drowning out the low, protesting groan of metal warping. There's no time, and his kagune slithers out from under the back of his shirt, splits into narrow, spindly lengths, and punches into the brick wall in front of him.

It's lucky that it's dark. At least there's less chance he'll be seen as he uses that limb to propel himself, only to drop onto a nearby awning near Peter and his current targets. He's quick to straighten once he lands, dressed the part of a police detective with his badge catching the flickering glare of a streetlight... if one squints, anyway. Perhaps wisely, he tucks his kagune in the back of his long coat]

Isn't it past curfew?

[He wants to say Peter's name, but at the same time, better if he doesn't till those people get away]

[webdesigned]

( he's hungry. that's his entire focus, it's all that's left, and it's all that matters. the closest target is always his preferred one, trumped only if an easier one shows up. wisely, the streets of downtown are rather empty at this point, and every potential target is doing their damnedest to be out of sight and out of mind. that's not enough for a creature that can hear them moving inside the buildings, sense the reactions he can't even see. the panicked rate of their heartbeats only pushes him faster, like a drum on a battlefield.

in his current state of manic infection, voices don't mean a whole lot to him anymore. they're sounds, and he can hear them, they just don't trouble him in the mass of all the rest. it's not the voice that catches his attention, so much as the whistle in the air, the prickle at the back of his neck that warns him of any threat he needs to be wary of. Haise doesn't look like a threat, not really, yet his senses didn't lie.

the metal gate sagged weakly in front of him, and getting through it wouldn't take much more than a few more blows. still, continuing his attempts to beat it open when a potential problem was staring him down didn't seem wise, either. he breathes a sound, almost a snarl, pure and unadulterated frustration — and that's all the reaction Haise gets before he reacts, and reacts quickly. even injured, he's not slowing down particularly much, and if he can't have what is hidden behind the metal gate? he'll try his luck with this new threat. spider senses be damned.

he can't websling himself up to the awning, yet when he can jump high enough to catch the edge, he doesn't need to. just like that, they're almost on a level playing field, except the infected spider stays low, truly living up to his name. up until he leaps, though, absolutely intending to land on Haise and knock them both down. he can handle the fall, and use the spare time to see what he can sink his teeth into while the interrupter was dazed.

or, that's the idea, anyway. )

[ex_adept136]

[For the first time in his brief existence, Haise finds himself relieved to have drawn the attention of a strong opponent. There's always been the encroaching fear of his own death digging its claws into him, but this time he takes solace in having drawn the threat away from people who themselves couldn't handle it. Couldn't survive it. He's sure that he can, because he must, for the sake of their team and Peter himself.

The low posture leaves him shifting his footing, watching his associate cautiously, attention divided between watching him and listening for retreating footfalls. Fortunately, it does sound like the civilians are running, which means he won't have to hold back. Good news, because he doesn't make any effort to dodge when Peter lunges, instead catching his wrists with retrained force that speaks to his inhuman nature.

He hits the pavement with a thud and a grunt, and he doesn't let go. What's more, his kagune emerges from under him, red serpentine limb splitting to seize at Peter's arms too. Likewise, an unnaturally strong grip.

In such close proximity, there's no missing the way his left eye turns black, iris staining the same crimson as his kagune. Much as he might not have wanted any of his associates to see him like this, it's the best way he can think of to keep his teammate from getting away too easily or too quickly]

Got you. [A pause, as he tries to concentrate enough to call up Stiles-] Somebody's looking for you, you know.

slides in late with starbucks

[p66]

[ It's not hard to pinpoint where Peter is once he leaves for the open. The screams definitely draw Reika's attention, and the sight of him tossing cars around like bricks is enough for her to pinpoint him as one of their own.

It's never a pleasant thing to fight a teammate. ]

Hey!

[ She takes off after him. Hopefully that gets his attention while she messages Julius to join her. Good thing she has her baseball bat to defend herself if necessary. ]

[webdesigned]

( does it get his attention? no. not really. voices don't do much when his brain is a fog of infection and fever. there's a tingle of warning at the base of his neck, one he would be wise to listen to, he just doesn't. he leaps from the wall to a car parked in the street, crunching the metal of the roof as he lands and splintering the glass of the windshield from the impact. one wouldn't think a kid his size could make a dent like that. it sort of says a lot about the force he'd utilized in the jump, doesn't it?

the civilian that had been running from him ducked in the splay of glass and crunch of metal, and that's just enough time to leap on him, instead.

the spider intends to take piece out of his throat, unless Reika has something to say about it. for everyone's sake, let's hope she does. )

[p66]

[ Seeing that her voice has no effect, Reika forces herself to dash harder - she focuses and a bright golden aura surrounds her baseball bat, manifesting as a pressure spike in the air that shoots forward straight at Peter's back. Hopefully it'd knock him off his victim.

If not, she'll be in physical distance in two more seconds and she has plenty of other Blood Arts to pull off. Peter's impact is about what a medium-sized Aragami would make on a car, so if he isn't as fast as the Blitz Hannibal, she should stand a reasonable chance.

She's been fighting monsters larger than her for a long time, after all. ]