damned_institute | Day 59: Sun Room (4th Shift)

After an intercom broadcast like that, Kurogane felt somewhat better about the little information he'd gotten from Harrington the previous night. The man only sounded competent when he needed to but was an idiot otherwise. Unfortunately that was furthered proof of the General not employing the brightest of staff members, making another option for information closed to them.

Kurogane was again some steps ahead of his escort when he reached the Sun Room and ignored the soldier further as the ninja headed to look over the bulletin. Last time he'd missed something, and he wasn't about to have that happen a second time. With some searching he located Tsubaki's messages to others he didn't know but found nothing either written by the magician or addressed to him. That being the case, he left the board without any of his own writing and sought out a chair over a couch. If he didn't leave open a space by him, he had a better chance of being left alone. Or so he believed.

[free ~~bird!~~ bear]

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"What? No, no, I noticed the fort right away - my spark is in tact, I swear!"

What was going on? Peter boggled as his hand was usurped for the most enthusiastic handshake he was sure he'd ever gotten. Also talking about 'spark this' and 'spark that' had him thinking that this was a talk between autobots and he was not entertaining the idea that he was talking to some obscure reboot Transformer character. He didn't want that.

Ever.

"Yeah, Queens - wait, are you from New York too?" Peter raised a brow. Most people here hadn't been able to pick out the difference. Not surprising, it wasn't like he himself made a point of memorizing weirdly specific accents, but that meant that anyone picking it out right away was in a teeny tiny minority. It also meant there was a slight chance this guy came from his world, too. Very, very slight.

Spark, now that he'd heard it from Peter he looked visibly impressed that his citizen had that integral spark necessary-- he liked to think it was in all of his, to be honest. Dreamers, makers, all that idealistic awesome imaginative stuff Walt Disney used to chatter at him about. Damn, he missed that guy, sometimes. "You could say New York is very near and dear to my heart," no polygraph would ever consider that a lie, either. Literal or not.

But Queens, his instincts had been right on-- a relief given he couldn't feel his people anymore, but that connection was probably intrinsic between any nation and one of their own citizens. Still, this guy... there was definitely something more than familiar about him, soft spoken, a little nervous, a little intangible, almost like a Hollywood fabrication.

Mostly in his face--

Parker.

It... hit him he wasn't even certain if it were possible. The name and the face, the mannerisms-- America never forgot one of his heroes, that's the ideal he wanted to present to the world. But this-- this was impossible and he wasn't even sure if his mind was willing to entertain the possibility. But he had a childish hope he could never quite stamp out (not that he wanted to, either). An impossible hope was only impossible until it was done. "I have an apartment in lower Manhattan, nice view and all that..." How to get him into another handshake? He definitely wanted to get a look at this guy's wrists.

Because if this was Peter Parker, the Peter Parker then he wasn't quite sure what he would do with himself if he passed up a chance to meet the man in the flesh and not simply in the pulp of paper and ink and paint. Then again, it could be coincidence, could be this damn place playing tricks on his mind... but it was a risk he was willing to take.

"You must be rolling in the dough to afford that," Peter said with a low whistle. "How high up is it? Are you facing the Hudson?"

He couldn't help but envy the idea. He worked in Manhattan (thank you, Daily Bugle). He often fought ghastly things there. As well as your average two-bit thug and magneto wannabe. He knew that unless he struck oil in his backyard, he was not touching a Manhattan apartment with a ten foot pole. If he was lucky he might get smacked through the windows of one and take the time to admire the plush carpets and romantic view of the city. His most secret of dreams, it was.

And was it just him, or was the guy giving him the funny eye now that basic introductions were over? Contemplating the possibilities made his brow twitch, but aside from that nothing changed. Nope. If this guy had known he was Spider-Man he would have reacted the moment he said his name was Peter. Or from the moment he'd seen his face. Aside from that Peter was already certain there were a few lucky charms short of a magically delicious here, so he was going to just roll with it. Alfred didn't seem like the harmful sort of crazy. Just the eccentric. Like a younger Dumbledore, without the wise mind or the beard.

"So. What is your plan regarding said fort anyway?" Peter said after a beat. He like to think he was getting much better at this conversation thing. Babble and query until people talk back was a most effective tactic, he'd found. "It's mostly all built by now. And that's half the fun."

Edited 2011-11-08 06:34 (UTC)

"Pretty high up. Top floor, corner window-- hah, sounds like an office space! The skyline's changing, though, got a nice complex going up," and maybe it was for all he was allowed to admit about himself. But he wasn't much interested in talking about himself for once. No, now he was utterly convinced of the legitimacy of this guy because everything was there. The hairstyle, the speech pattern, even some of the mannerisms-- as much as he could glean out of comic book pages a least. Still, in light of keeping up with the act and protecting one's identity (because he sure as hell wasn't about to compromise that) he let it go and stopped giving him the odd observation.

It was enough to him that he'd met him, a mutual silent acknowledgment but... well it wouldn't last too long before he got excited. There was an art to finding the time and place, he was learning this. Not to mention he'd just been questioned and he always had an answer at the ready. "Well, first I need a team and we need to defend the fort." his eyes stayed steady on Peter's, grin growing at both edges but not to a maniacal sort of smile. He was giving Peter the impression all his attention was focused on him in a benign sort of way. "I mean. You're already on my team, I got a good feeling about you. Like I can trust you." Trust, Peter might know, was a rare commodity in this place.

"We need to man the positions, take up arms and defend. You have any other friends willing to get in on this?" the more the merrier. Though what would they be defending this from... would be the question. If the military types were permitting this they might not be in on the war games. "... Also we should find out what's going on. Around. Here." his not so subtle way to insinuate the institute.

Day 59: Sun Room (4th Shift)

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