Miguel O'Hara (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
ninjavampire) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
nightlogs2023-09-02 01:51 pm
ninjavampire) wrote in nightlogs2023-09-02 01:51 pm
Entry tags:
lab log first edition
Who: Miggy and YOU
What: Constructing a lab out of rubber bands and paper clips
Where: A hidden away upper corner of the Pole
When: Post Branch, Later in the month
Warnings/Notes: spider robots
A little over a month has passed, and if Miguel appears to be sparse, it is because he's been hard at work building up another lofty and hard-to-reach cave to hide in. The lab itself was designed by someone who can scale walls and hang from the ceiling without much effort, so the layout is a bit obtuse and taller than it is long.
He has made use of the entirety of the wall from ceiling to floor, with some vertical pathways pocked with holes where his claws had punctured through - he simply re-used them as handholds.
There is a notable lack of ladders or light sources - the guy apparently adores a dimly-lit workspace. And it remains.. a work in progress! For now, it is only closed off by an unlocked door. But he'll be lurking around inside.
a. The Information Explainy Thing
full size
To your left, a chalkboard mounted high up the wall, visualizing some of the data he's gathered from his scans and interactions insofar. If you have talked to him at some point your universe is probably marked up here!
b. Computer Wife In Progress
Much of the room is taken up by around a dozen improvised server racks half-packed full of hardware he must have swiped from a visit off the Pole. The cabinetry is wooden and filigreed, from the stockpiles in the workroom, but the drawers meant to hold computer parts were metal and modern.
It's a bit of disorganized chaos - a lot of long cables were still being routed around to be placed in neat groups, and he needed to find more meat to fill the empty bones of his machine.
It was also missing a proper screen. The laptop at the center of it all looked a little out of place surrounded by the growing electronic behemoth.
c. A Small Friend
Linger around for too long and a click-click may interrupt your perusing! An octoped-like wood-and-brass spiderbot is crawling around, able to maneuver freely on its lifelike legs. It is another half-finished project with loosely arranged wires and exposed joints.
On its body is mounted a kitbashed digital camera with which it took that photo of you! And, seeming to be proud of its work, it flips the camera around to let you see.
Sharp eyes may spot an area dedicated to being a workbench, scattered with several aborted attempts to make something magitech function as intended. It appears this spider is the one that lived!
d. Wildcard!
What: Constructing a lab out of rubber bands and paper clips
Where: A hidden away upper corner of the Pole
When: Post Branch, Later in the month
Warnings/Notes: spider robots
A little over a month has passed, and if Miguel appears to be sparse, it is because he's been hard at work building up another lofty and hard-to-reach cave to hide in. The lab itself was designed by someone who can scale walls and hang from the ceiling without much effort, so the layout is a bit obtuse and taller than it is long.
He has made use of the entirety of the wall from ceiling to floor, with some vertical pathways pocked with holes where his claws had punctured through - he simply re-used them as handholds.
There is a notable lack of ladders or light sources - the guy apparently adores a dimly-lit workspace. And it remains.. a work in progress! For now, it is only closed off by an unlocked door. But he'll be lurking around inside.
a. The Information Explainy Thing
full size
To your left, a chalkboard mounted high up the wall, visualizing some of the data he's gathered from his scans and interactions insofar. If you have talked to him at some point your universe is probably marked up here!
b. Computer Wife In Progress
Much of the room is taken up by around a dozen improvised server racks half-packed full of hardware he must have swiped from a visit off the Pole. The cabinetry is wooden and filigreed, from the stockpiles in the workroom, but the drawers meant to hold computer parts were metal and modern.
It's a bit of disorganized chaos - a lot of long cables were still being routed around to be placed in neat groups, and he needed to find more meat to fill the empty bones of his machine.
It was also missing a proper screen. The laptop at the center of it all looked a little out of place surrounded by the growing electronic behemoth.
c. A Small Friend
Linger around for too long and a click-click may interrupt your perusing! An octoped-like wood-and-brass spiderbot is crawling around, able to maneuver freely on its lifelike legs. It is another half-finished project with loosely arranged wires and exposed joints.
On its body is mounted a kitbashed digital camera with which it took that photo of you! And, seeming to be proud of its work, it flips the camera around to let you see.
Sharp eyes may spot an area dedicated to being a workbench, scattered with several aborted attempts to make something magitech function as intended. It appears this spider is the one that lived!
d. Wildcard!
no subject
Gwen had unknowingly touched a hot wire when he was ready to snap. That was it. He didn't have an excuse, nor did he feel like he needed to explain himself. Spiders always faced challenges in their home universes. That was part of the deal. Gwen had flounced her duties to catastrophic consequences, so he sent her back. That's all that was running through his head in the moment. And as far as things had looked from his end, he was right and simply hadn't been thorough enough.
"The existence of other universes changes things, but it doesn't discount how ours function, Gwen. Our dimensions are linked together, you know that already. They need to be balanced."
His face has become absolutely rigid, almost defensively so. But he was still listening, because... New data did change things. It wasn't just about Gwen wanting to protect her friend, anymore.
"I need more proof before I'm willing to wager the stability of an entire universe. That's how it should be."
no subject
Gwen's arms cross tight under her chest, oversized sweater all rumpled up and hiding her hands entirely, now. (She wishes she had Miles's jacket, still. At least she has their photo, tucked away in her room.)
She knows better than to expect more of Miguel than at least not lashing out, again. The part of her that wants an apology from him for the risk he put her in, or from anyone else in her life that's failed her in some way, is buried deep, deep down, because she feels horrible enough without more disappointment. (And maybe because the part of her that hates herself for what she did to Peter, for what she's just done to Miles, thinks she deserves to suffer a little longer.)
She has her evidence. She's seen, first hand, that Miguel's theories have flaws. Yet the idea of explaining it to him still makes her throat tighten.
"When I went home," she starts, after a long, long pause, voice still strained, "I really thought he was gonna shoot me."
She hadn't even had it in her to be all that scared, in the moment. One second, there was the misleading reflection, the next, she'd webbed the penguin to the wall. Fear was buried beneath resignation, frustration, exhaustion. Fear was a luxury she couldn't afford.
"But he didn't. We talked. Yelled, really. I told him if he was so determined to do things by the book, then he should just hurry up and arrest me. And you know what he said? 'I can't.' Because he quit, Miguel. He's not Captain, anymore."
no subject
"It's too soon to say what that means." he says, finally. "Your canon could still correct itself, or it could start to fracture and we will need to patch it up - if we can."
Under normal circumstances, this should have been a good thing. Gwen, super powers and all, was still a teenage girl that had managed to patch up the relationship with her father. Miguel isn't made of stone, he knows he should be relieved for her. He wants to be.
But he can't let himself soften up. Not while he had his mission. With everything they knew, Gwen's father dodging his fate could be potentially catastrophic. He can't let himself feel happy for that turn of events until he knew for certain that she got lucky enough to dodge it without damage to her dimension (and even then, it'd be bittersweet for all the ones that couldn't). Otherwise, this might have doomed both her father and their entire world with it.
no subject
Gwen's face screws up, head thunking back against the wall, but if it was an attempt to bite her tongue, or even at least hold back the frustration leaking into her voice, it doesn't work.
"I knew you'd say that. I knew it," she groans, before looking at him again. "I don't know any other Captains, Miguel! It was just him, Captain Stacy, probably the most common dead Captain in the multiverse, with how many Peters had us in their lives! And now he's not Captain Stacy anymore! He's just my dad!"
It's all she'd wanted all along. For him to stop being a cop and just be her dad again. Knowing that they finally have a chance to be father and daughter instead of enemies is one of the only things that feel good, right now. She can't, she won't, let Miguel take that away with his concerns.
"When Pav's Captain survived, the supposed damage was immediate, right?" She's less and less convinced that hole was a result of the canon break instead of the Spot himself, by now, but pointing that out won't help her right now. "Surely me not even having a Captain to die would be just as disastrous if it was that simple."
Somewhere, in the back of her mind, she thinks: If things are that simple, then how am I even Spider-Woman in the first place?
no subject
"The multiverse is never simple." he says, eyes flicking back to her. "Sometimes the cracks take time to show. By then, it is too late to fix."
He was able to stay for over a year raising Gabriella, completely ignorant of the unraveling until he was helpless to do anything. And now Gwen might be playing with that same fire for an entirely human reason, at her own peril. He can't abide by that. He just can't.
"I'm sorry, but this isn't enough to be certain."
He stops short of admitting it's because he doesn't know. He won't apologize for what he did. But he doesn't like their dilemma any more than she does. He can waver enough to admit that.
no subject
"This is exactly why I told Peter I didn't want to have to have this conversation with you," she says, folding her arms even tighter, closing herself off further. "He believes me, by the way. At least, he believes me enough to help me and Hobie with Miles."
Him, and Porker, and Noir, and Peni and Pavitr and Margo. Her friends. Go figure that once she'd accepted she had friends besides Miles, she was separated from all of them but Peter B.
For a fleeting moment, Gwen feels every bit the child she actually is. She wants her friends. She wants Hobie here to talk to and drum with and process things, backing her up like he did despite her mistakes. Pavitr and his ability to lighten the mood, who's home dimension is at risk and yet still joined her. Margo who's home life is even worse than Gwen was before, but still let Miles go with Miguel right there. Peni who understands what it was to go from meeting other Spiders to being alone, again, until the Society and yet was willing to risk it all to help Miles.
She doesn't want to deal with this alone. She's so tired of doing things alone.
"I'm not just going to abandon Miles. I won't. And you can't make me. When we make it home, I will find him."
no subject
His expression darkens. There’s a shift in his body, a tensing in the shoulders as he takes a few more steps away from her. Back where it was shadowy and alone and easier to exist. Peter was different than the rest of them. He’d known him the longest, he’d been there when it happened…! He should know better. He shouldn’t be repeating his mistakes!
“Peter…” his voice comes out low, and the gleam of fangs could be spotted in the poorly lit corner he retreated to. He still held her shooter in his talons, as if conflicted on how stringently he should reject them.
The conversation was either over, or about to be ended. Though, notably, his mood wasn’t being directed at her. Not immediately, anyway.
no subject
In the end, it's like Peter said: Miguel won't get less mad, but at least it won't all be directed at her. She just hopes Peter's as ready to face Miguel's ire as he thinks he is—she remembers the look on his face when Miguel was clawing at the Go Home Machine keenly, he was as surprised as any of them.
Gwen sighs, dropping down to the floor. "...look. If you don't want to help anymore, I'll just ask for Peter's formula and find somewhere else to make it."
She's not sure what response she hopes for, Miguel choosing to help in this little way despite this, or Miguel throwing her web-shooter back in her face and telling her to do it herself.
She doesn't know if this can be fixed. She's still trying to decide how much she wants this to be fixed. Is it even possible for either of them to earn the other's respect, again?
no subject
He webs himself up into the hanging, half-finished machinery of the ceiling to get further away from her. Away from the conversation. It looks like he was wavering as close as Miguel could possibly allow himself to, under the circumstances. If he didn't have the time to tune himself to their new situation... he would have been a lot more furious. He probably would have thrown it back, and might have thrown something else in the room for good measure.
As it was, he doesn't want to see her face right now. He can't abide by their goals, and he wanted to march straight to Peter and rip into him for enabling their reckless and selfish behavior. He leaves the watch alone, for now, only because Gwen was trapped here too and there would be other opportunities to take it and destroy it.
The fact was, there was another threat here that took immediate priority. For now. So he would tolerate them. But he wasn't happy with either of them.
no subject
Gwen doesn't make the same mistake she made back in Nueva York again. She doesn't argue. Doesn't poke the angry bear. She just sighs again, sounding far more exhausted than any girl her age should, and slinks out of the room as silently as she'd arrived.
Except for making sure the door clicks shut behind her as she goes.
She should probably give Peter a heads-up...