peter parker (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
piqure) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
abraxaslogs2022-09-26 06:22 pm
piqure) wrote in abraxaslogs2022-09-26 06:22 pm
[closed] mama said, fulfill the prophecy
WHO: peter parker, tony stark
WHEN: September, post attack
WHERE: Libertas, rescue mission
WHAT: search and rescue
WARNINGS: likely mention of war, violence, death, ptsd, injuries, gestures vaguely at how well adjusted these two are
( the call to action doesn't come fast enough, peter thinks. he'd not managed a single steady night of sleep since libertas had been attacked, smoke carried across a horizon thrown in greys and oranges and filled with haze and he can't help but think of everyone there. can't help but think of how closely the colors resemble another horizon he'd seen in a different universe (his own), and while they're far enough away that the ash and smoke doesn't sit on their tongues, peter's throat still dries at the thought alone. he can't help but think of how they could help, but he'd also known that tony, and stephen, and sam and everyone else, had been right. that leaping blindly, trying to sneak in around free cities' authorities was nothing short of stupid and impulsive and so peter, despite the restlessness that keeps his hands from stilling, waited.
tony had ideas, and tinkering to be done and peter had been impossibly grateful to have that to busy himself with. sam's wings had to be prepped and ready, and tony had said something about a tool to help with lifting, despite peter's assurances of his strengths.
until — until the missives come and the summoned are finally given tasks and peter hates that they had to wait at all but at least it's there. search and rescue or...honestly, peter likely hardly interprets the second option.
and now they find themselves in the rubble of what's left and peter remembers to breathe, and moves to stand up from the overlook they'd perched atop of, to look back at tony. the hound besides them is some stoic image of professionalism that peter isn't quite sure what to do with. ) There's a lot of debris, ( he's stating the obvious, he knows. he checks the webshooters on his wrist, and fidgets with his fingers, remembering the spells he's learned. those will be useful here, too. a final look to the sky, trying to see if he can spot sam.
they got this. they can help. ) Let's — let's start looking.
WHEN: September, post attack
WHERE: Libertas, rescue mission
WHAT: search and rescue
WARNINGS: likely mention of war, violence, death, ptsd, injuries, gestures vaguely at how well adjusted these two are
( the call to action doesn't come fast enough, peter thinks. he'd not managed a single steady night of sleep since libertas had been attacked, smoke carried across a horizon thrown in greys and oranges and filled with haze and he can't help but think of everyone there. can't help but think of how closely the colors resemble another horizon he'd seen in a different universe (his own), and while they're far enough away that the ash and smoke doesn't sit on their tongues, peter's throat still dries at the thought alone. he can't help but think of how they could help, but he'd also known that tony, and stephen, and sam and everyone else, had been right. that leaping blindly, trying to sneak in around free cities' authorities was nothing short of stupid and impulsive and so peter, despite the restlessness that keeps his hands from stilling, waited.
tony had ideas, and tinkering to be done and peter had been impossibly grateful to have that to busy himself with. sam's wings had to be prepped and ready, and tony had said something about a tool to help with lifting, despite peter's assurances of his strengths.
until — until the missives come and the summoned are finally given tasks and peter hates that they had to wait at all but at least it's there. search and rescue or...honestly, peter likely hardly interprets the second option.
and now they find themselves in the rubble of what's left and peter remembers to breathe, and moves to stand up from the overlook they'd perched atop of, to look back at tony. the hound besides them is some stoic image of professionalism that peter isn't quite sure what to do with. ) There's a lot of debris, ( he's stating the obvious, he knows. he checks the webshooters on his wrist, and fidgets with his fingers, remembering the spells he's learned. those will be useful here, too. a final look to the sky, trying to see if he can spot sam.
they got this. they can help. ) Let's — let's start looking.
no subject
[ To someone else, he might explain what he means at length, but with Peter he doesn't bother. Kid will be able to tell he's inferring there's enough structural integrity that the first floors or basements might be intact, which means there might still be people – trapped, injured. But alive.
Probably would be more, if the military had let them make the trek down here sooner, but – sure, Marlo probably had great reasons to prioritize secure military routes over civilian lives, especially if the news of him sending a steampunk-state-of-the-art submarine out is anything to judge by.
But Tony ignores his thoughts on this world's politics for now. Now – it's time to work.
He stands up from the edge of the incline they've used to scout, shouldering the weight of the Mini-RESCUE II's hydraulic canisters in the process.
He glances down at Peter's webshooters – strikingly modern against the rest of their cloth-and-leather getups, and then looks to the hound sitting on its haunches next to them. ]
What's your name, again? Daxie, Doxie – [ he reaches down, checks the collar. Frowns. ] "George."