[RYSLIG] IC Inbox

[beatemall]

< BadMachine2004 > — normal handle
< KidArachnid > — used for hero work
< Sunflower > — anonymous posting

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[beatemall]

[Anger shifts and gives way to something else. An indescribable pain underlying shock and disbelief.]

You're sorry? [Miles parrots, his tone incredulous, pitched higher as his hands come to his hand and catch in his dense curls.] So what you- you just accept it? That's it, huh??

[There's no escape. Not from Ryslig, not from hurting people, hurting his friends. He wants to cry so badly, his entire face scrunching up with a furrow brow and narrowed eyes, his lip quivering even—and still they won't come. What he could give to just be able to cry again.]

Can't you see how fucked up that is?! You're just giving up on, o-on helping people, then?!

[heyunderoos]

[Peter is calm, far calmer than Miles. The anger from earlier has snuffed out for now, softened back into worry. He is a steady stone against the current of grief sweeping Miles away.]

Miles. [His voice is gentle, even if his point is sharp. A reminder that the weight of survival is a noose around all of their necks.

He steps forward into Mile's space, shifting into a human shape to be about even with the younger teen.] I know it's fucked up. I'm exceedingly aware it is. That never stops being obvious, no matter how comfortable people get here.

Until we can actually stop the fog from twisting us into this, we need to help where we can. We need to be here for each other. We need to help as much as we can. Even if we can't- stop everything, we're still helping. We're still Spider-Man. We just need to redefine what it means to be Spider-Man. Even if it's not pretty, or perfect, or what we want.

[He hesitates, just reaching out to rest a hand against Mile's shoulder, brows pinching together.]

I was unhappy enough, I tried fighting the gods with an artifact I found. I studied it, I thought I knew what I was doing... It didn't work how I planned, I ended up hurting more people in the process.