Perplexed, Peter followed Sangamon's efforts from paper conception to the (presumably intended but unlikely made to scale) model. Which he then set on his primary creation. Peter blinked for a moment. "Oh - oh that's a boat? Oh, okay. I thought you were making one of those lacrosse things." He nodded appreciatively. "So you are from the eighties then. Cool, we can work with that. You already know of electricity, which is ten steps ahead of some people."

He didn't know what the hell Sangamon was talking about radioactivity for, though. He really didn't. "Wouldn't that give you cancer?" The stare was a befuddled one, and held for just a beat too long. No seriously, since when did that have anything to do with - whatever. Not the point. "Well anyway, yeah. She's all spidery too. And I guess she has good reason to be paranoid, since she pretty much had to escape from this mad scientist shindig and whatnot. But that whole bulletin thing was so very unnecessary and now everyone thinks I'm like, Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde bonkers. She didn't even ask me first."

Yeah, that was a legitimate teenage pout on his face right now. Peter didn't care. He'd earned that right four clones ago. The chair tilted back so he could properly complete the image of pubescent petulance, crossed arms and all. "She wants to keep it secret, but seeing as how she'll be running around with my face and only fifteen pounds of hair to disguise it, I figured I might as well stop her from totally ruining my social life. People are going to put two and two together sooner or later." He bit his lip and glanced over. "Promise not to tell anyone else? I'm letting a few people know, but one by one and not as like, this mass news bulletin. We're playing it off as being twins. If word got out that it was cloning, people would wonder why a slouchy-pants whippersnapper like me was worth cloning to begin with, and then the spider thing gets out, yadda yadda yadda. You get me, right?"