blackfire: (itachi003)
๐ญ๐ก๐ž ๐ค๐จ๐ฆ๐›๐ฎ๐œ๐ก๐š ๐จ๐Ÿ ๐ฉ๐ž๐จ๐ฉ๐ฅ๐ž ([personal profile] blackfire) wrote2021-10-16 07:50 pm
Entry tags:

ic inbox | ximilia

// ใ†ใกใฏ
TEXT โ€ข AUDIO โ€ข VIDEO โ€ข ACTION
XIMILIA
construing: (study.)

cw: america/guns/schools. this entire thread will be a content warning from here

[personal profile] construing 2022-05-31 01:42 am (UTC)(link)
ใ€ˆ gwen breathes a humorless "ha!" the tip of her tongue presses against a molar. ใ€‰

Yeah, that's not my world. Just my country, and its valuing guns over the lives of kids.

ใ€ˆ her sarcastic smile fades. ใ€‰

Not that metal detectors do shit.

ใ€ˆ something haunted crosses her face before she looks away. around her throat, the symbiote spreads. black threads wind over the shoulders of her jacket, almost vanishing against the black leather but for the way they stretch above it. ใ€‰
construing: (explain.)

[personal profile] construing 2022-05-31 03:42 am (UTC)(link)
ใ€ˆ there is a question in itachi's pronunciation of her name. gwen chooses not to hear it. delicately, she pulls her arm free. ใ€‰

Cafeteria is on the first floor, library on the second. The science labs are between the second and third floors. Outside are the football and baseball fields and the running track. I throw a mean javelin, and that was before I got super-strength.

Aside from that there's the gym, the music room, art room, computer labs… Everything else is pretty much classroom.

ใ€ˆ in contrast to before, her voice acquires a brighter tone. a note in it rings false, however. like she's putting on an act. (she is.) rather than let her thoughts catch up to her, gwen starts walking. she is not fully aware of what she is saying. (it doesn't really matter.) posters line the walls between students' lockers; again and again, the word "prom" is repeated. she ignores it as she tries to ignore the crawling sensation at her back removed from the symbiote. ใ€‰

Up to you where you wanna go.
construing: (woods.)

[personal profile] construing 2022-05-31 06:48 pm (UTC)(link)
Good choice.

ใ€ˆ gwen leads the way up the stairs. they pass by vending machines flanked by water fountains. they pass by classrooms, more lockers, a forgotten backpack, a half-empty water bottle left on the fire extinguisher. they pass by the bulletin board outside the english lit class, decorated with poems. the one in the middle starts, "natureโ€™s first green is goldโ€”"

school without the chatter and shouts of students, without the slamming of locker doors, without the stomping of hundreds of feet up and down the stairs proves unnerving. (there was a moment. a second of absolute silence.) the roof feels like it's dropping close to her head.

behind her, itachi makes no noise, and gwen finds herself talking just to provide a buffer between herself and the walls.
ใ€‰

—Em Jay wanted us to be famous rock stars, but we didn't get the band together until senior year when she and Glory got detention for punching a douchebag and bonded. Betty, we recruited after she hijacked the PA system to belt death metal songs. Back then, we called ourselves "Murderface" after Betty's cat. I'm still shocked the school agreed to let us play the prom with that name.

ใ€ˆ when she laughs, a brittle note so faint it could well be imagined underlies it. ใ€‰

We'd practice here after school. Midtown High: where the Mary Janes were born.

ใ€ˆ pushing open the door to the music room, gwen invites itachi through. most of the space in the room is taken up by folding chairs and sheet music stands organized in an arc facing the board. a piano takes up the corner opposite the door. the walls are painted with musical notes and genres while the windows look out to the athletic fields. toward the back, a variety of drums are organized against the wall including a drum kit. it is here gwen heads. picking up the sticks, she plays a quick little improvised beat. the sticks twirl almost fluid in her hands. ใ€‰
construing: (change.)

[personal profile] construing 2022-06-01 12:00 am (UTC)(link)
ใ€ˆ gwen smiles. ใ€‰ Because Em Jay is a force of nature.

ใ€ˆ her expression turns far away; her playing does not miss a beat. ใ€‰

We got attacked by ninja one time—long story. They were wielding katana, nunchucks, I'm pretty sure one of them had wire. Meanwhile, all we have are our instruments. Didn't faze Em Jay. Just a girl from Queens, and, ใ€ˆ laughing, ใ€‰ she swung on a fucking ninja with a guitar.

ใ€ˆ gwen wraps her hands around both sticks. she holds them in her lap. ใ€‰

Whatever Em Jay wants, she just…goes for it. Usually drives me up a wall, but, ใ€ˆ gwen clicks her tongue, ใ€‰ I love that girl. After graduation, she insisted we get the band back together. That was when we rebranded as the Mary Janes.
construing: (appointments.)

[personal profile] construing 2022-06-01 06:06 pm (UTC)(link)
If you're one of the few to make it big, it comes with money, fame, and prestige so…Yeah. Not easy, though. Takes skill, hard work, and a good deal of luck.

We have the skill. And Em Jay, Glory, and Betty are some of the hardest working people I know. Em Jay especially.

ใ€ˆ when she returns the sticks to their spot, they are both covered in tiny black spiders. slipping her hands into the jacket's pockets, gwen shrugs further into it. her eyes follow itachi's out the windows though she does not look at anything, only through. ใ€‰

She was the first one to put it together: that me and Spider-Woman are one and the same.

ใ€ˆ only may parker figured it out sooner, though the old woman did not breathe a word except to reassure gwen of her love. even gwen's father never realized his daughter was the fugitive he was hunting until gwen took her mask off in front of him. may and the girls, her father—ben, in his own way—they all sought to protect her. (she knows, but sometimes, she still wonders why.) ใ€‰

We can keep going, ใ€ˆ she says, standing up. gwen clears her throat. ใ€‰ There's not much else here unless you want to pick up bass. Which you should, we need a bass player.

ใ€ˆ not saying that the image of itachi on bass would be the greatest thing ever…except it absolutely would be. ใ€‰
construing: (Default)

[personal profile] construing 2022-06-03 11:19 pm (UTC)(link)
You say that, but have you ever tried? ใ€ˆ she starts responding to his comment at the same time as he makes his suggestion.

a ringing starts in her ear, and she might have wondered if she got knocked on the head—again—but for the cold that grips her by the chest, its fingers digging around her sternum and in between her ribs.

as if from far away, she hears herself say,
ใ€‰ Um…sure.

ใ€ˆ it's just a school gym. where they played volleyball and basketball, and did their physical fitness tests, and joked around on the bleachers. gwen has not seen it since prom. (the damage was so extensive, even after the police tape was removed, the gym remained closed. she heard from glory months later they had completed the repairs. she never saw them.)

her feet move without conscious command, following a familiar route. alarm bells ring in her head. she wonders why she isn't reacting until realizing…this is not her spider-sense. this warning comes from elsewhere in her brain, and it gets louder as she takes the stairs down. she can picture the gym's double doors perfectly; she never reaches them.

gwen stops at the start of a line of lockers. hunched into herself, the fall of her blonde hair obscuring her eyes, she motions to the break between the lockers.
ใ€‰

Gym's over there. ใ€ˆ almost idly, she notes her voice is shaking. (she does not realize her entire body is shaking.) ใ€‰
construing: (enough.)

[personal profile] construing 2022-06-04 05:37 pm (UTC)(link)
ใ€ˆ the weight of his hand is light, the touch more assurance of his presence. she notes it all distantly, become an observer outside her own body.

when she blinks, back to herself, gwen finds she is seated on the dock, her legs crossed. she holds her phone on her lap. mary jane belts, "gotta wrap your head around it, it was bad, but you made it, made it feel so good—" without looking at the screen, gwen knows it is halfway through paperdoll. that's a minute she has no memory of.

her finger finds the volume button and takes it down until the song is a buzz against her palm. she raises her head. despite the clarity of the simulated day, her pupils threaten to consume her irises. around her neck, the symbiote extends protectively away from her, drifting on the sweet breeze. gwen finds itachi, and drops her head again.
ใ€‰

Sorry.
construing: (shape.)

[personal profile] construing 2022-06-06 07:08 pm (UTC)(link)
You're smart. You've probably put it together.

ใ€ˆ the big picture stuff, anyway. her thumb taps the screen, pausing the music. her eyes trace from her lap across the wood to the water. she listens as it laps gently at the pilings.

when she speaks, her voice is strangely detached. like she is repeating a story once told to her.
ใ€‰

It was prom night. Big party for the graduating seniors. Everybody was in the gym. ใ€ˆ like fish in a barrel, she thinks, and hates herself for it. ใ€‰ One of our classmates injected himself with a serum. Turned himself into a monstrous, humanoid lizard. Attacked the prom.

I fought him. He begged— ใ€ˆ here, her voice breaks. breathing feels like rubbing her lungs against a knife slipped between her ribs, but she continues, ใ€‰ He begged me to stop. But I was so angry. These were my friends. My classmates. This was my prom.

ใ€ˆ one night. that was what she had wanted. one night without the craziness. without masks. one night kicking back with her friends. ใ€‰

He died. Before he died, he shifted back, and…there was Peter.

ใ€ˆ peter, her best friend. peter, whose death launched a manhunt for spider-woman. peter, whom she sees in dreams and hallucinations alike. no matter how often she tells herself to let go… ใ€‰
construing: (cover.)

[personal profile] construing 2022-06-07 08:43 pm (UTC)(link)
Yeah.

ใ€ˆ awful, and traumatizing, and not her fault, she knows. what peter did, he did alone. he synthesized the serum. he went to school. he pushed the plunger. he did not—or maybe, could not—discriminate; when she engaged him, he had cornered harry between the lockers.

yet—

that night, she saw the boy she loved at the very end: half his face covered in green scales, looking at her with one eye reptilian yellow, one human brown. her memories are chaos. parts of the night are vague, blurred, confusedโ€”others clear as a photograph. his confession that he only wanted to be like her, like spider-womanโ€ฆthat plays in her head in 4k resolution. the sound of his voice, his sigh, his hand reaching for her maskโ€”

she covers her face with her hands. black filaments drape from her fingers.
ใ€‰

I'm so tired of feeling this way, ใ€ˆ she admits. ใ€‰ I'd love one day, just one day, where a reminder doesn't wreck my entire existence.
construing: (woods.)

[personal profile] construing 2022-06-09 05:24 pm (UTC)(link)
ใ€ˆ her fingers curl by the side of her mouth when she turns her head. she does not move away from the contact. ใ€‰

How?
construing: (appointments.)

[personal profile] construing 2022-06-09 06:20 pm (UTC)(link)
ใ€ˆ oh. oh, of course. her friend has a terrifying power to alter one's whole person. why not.

she makes a little moue.
ใ€‰ Just a bit, yeah.

ใ€ˆ looking away again, gwen is quiet a long moment. her fingers drum against her thigh. ใ€‰

I don't want to forget. Contradictions ahoy, considering I typically avoid reminders like the plague.

ใ€ˆ there are moments she would love to reach into her own head, and pick out all the ruined sections of her brain. they are passing whims, however. thoughts she would never act upon. to do so…

she killed him in life. she cannot kill him in memory too.
ใ€‰

Peter was the person I loved most in the world. And he scared me…like nothing ever has. So much of what happened since, what I am, it all traces back to that night.

ใ€ˆ gwen smiles wanly at itachi. ใ€‰

To erase Peter, you'd erase me too.
construing: (friends.)

[personal profile] construing 2022-06-09 06:34 pm (UTC)(link)
ใ€ˆ when she's older. when it hurts less. (one gwen, at least, made it. who is to say she can't too?)

her stomach is flipping like she is in free-fall. her heart squeezes tight.
ใ€‰

What do I have to do?

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