ᛚᛟᚲᛁSOMETHING FOUL BEGETS THIN ATMOSPHERE ;cerastes’ scorching environment , here in light . his steps are light, near silent ; the softthumpto arise a creation of mere desire , a subtle notice of arrival .❛ i would state it unwise to so openly state one’s thoughts & opinions , & yet here i find myself utterly inclined to do so . ❜tinged to each word / ribbon lacing each syllable , mere traces of hostility , acerbic 𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄 uponserpent’s tongue.
❛ why is it i feel myself within the presence of one more questionable than myself ?❜
HATRED AND ANGER came to the surface of his mind; hands forming into tight fists shortly after the final words were spoken. such was what happened when what little CONTROL he had evaporated due to something as small as that.
❛ you talk weird, ❜ he said, not even bothering to comment on the IRONY of the situation. a mistake – a certain little flaw judging someone far greater than he. it would get him KILLED one day, but there was doubt the fates would give him what he so DESIRED most days. more importantly, even if he was granted a ‘reprieve’ there was doubt he’d ever take it. no, he’d been given the offer before to leave everything behind, and he chose to press on. chose to be who he was…. even if it was the worst thing possible.
❛ speak…. plainly. ❜ a deep breath escaped from his lips as he dug his fingers into the palms of his hands. if he focused on that… maybe he could focus on staying calm and stable ( . for the moment at least ). ❛ i’m not awake enough for this. ❜ nor was he in the right mind set to do anything other than drink a beer… or six dozen of them.
Silence fills the room and Peter simply stares at the man, is focused on his posture, the way he presents himself. It’s all confidence and calm, is the exact opposite of how he feels and he knows it’s because his face is exposed.He feels vulnerable without the mask on, a sensation that leaves him on edge far more then he’d like.
“Ky’lar.” Peter repeats the name, like he’s trying to commit it to memory, as if it would stir up some kind of recognition. “What do you want?” His shoulders drop, posture easing up. As uncomfortable as the situation is, Peter tries to remember that suit or not he is still Spider-Man.
“A hundred pound bag of hundred dollar bills,” he said, voice dripping with sarcasm for those few moments. Of course, if Ky admitted the truth out-right, things would have gone much easier, but that wasn’t in his play book for the time being.
“Among other things,” he continued on, “I have always been fascinated by people who hide behind masks…. and a suit.” Not that it mattered to Ky what Peter did in his spare time, but he still was quite frankly amused by it. “Having both on can hide emotions and all anyone will ever see is a symbol – or even a name of sorts.”
“As for what I want?” He bit his lower lip for a few moments. “I need access to somewhere only a spider can get into. After-all, that’s what you are, right? A human spider… thing.”
Hellfirebound 