expiationlogs | [open] gwen's birthday bash

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[open] gwen's birthday bash

Who: Matt Murdock, Gwen Stacy, and anyone who knows her or just wants to party, tbh
Where: In a cute park!
What: This is a mingle log for Gwen's Birthday Party on May 29! Feel free to tag around.
Warnings: It's just a party! The youths might drink but that's none of Matt's business

[ Strictly speaking, Matt Murdock is not actually Gwen Stacy's friend. He's actually her enemy? Her archvillain? But what the Gwen who is here doesn't know can't hurt her! And Matt has always found her fascinating. So you see, you can plan a party with no ulterior motives, even for someone who got you arrested. And really, if your arch-enemy can't throw you a birthday party, who can?

Unfortunately, without his own criminal empire or Wilson Fisk's war coffers at his disposal, he has to make do with what is actually in his budget. Back in New York, he would've rented out a penthouse. Here, he has settled for a nice park with a couple of rented tables, a balloon arch (in black, white, pink, and teal no relation to spider-woman, don't worry about it), a fun little banner (it says "Hapy Birthday Gwen" instead of "Happy" did he run out of letters? did he do this on purpose? is he even aware?), some food and beverages (he's not the police), some tunes, and a cryptic message on the network Come celebrate Gwen! to tie it all together.

He's done very well, if he does say so himself! Really, it would've been way better if Jerry could have done him one tiny little solid, but it's fine. He adapted. He always does. ]

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We will live to regret our decisions. [ Jim manages to get the words out solemnly, but the twinkle in his eye gives away the true humor in his statement. Quill's a decent guy, and a great help on the Dark Web project. Jim had prevented him from being too much of a hazard, so he hadn't yet gotten into Spock's bad books (as far as Jim was aware, anyway).

Jim doesn't know how to be anyone's father, God forbid. Add it to the list of fuck-all that he knows, actually; but the one lesson he does know is one that always, consistently rings true. A burden shared is a burden halved.

One guess as to who taught him that one.

Jim tilts his head, blue gaze sliding over to Gwen, indecipherable for a moment. But he did bring it up, and despite all the dancing around it Jim and Spock tended towards, some of it, at least, was fit for public consumption. ]

Youngest in the 'Fleet. [ With the right inflection, those words could sound like a brag; once upon a time, Jim might have let them on purpose, usually in a dimly lit spaceport bar. Now it's simply an unbiased fact. ]

More like...what? [ For all that he plays straight man to Spock's alien Other, sometimes Jim has his moments too. Star Wars, he recognizes - that franchise had lasted the test of time, though Jim is of course more familiar with the holos released during his own childhood, and not the original, grainy films he's only seen once or twice - but the other is unfamiliar. ] No Jedi, unfortunately. Would probably make my job a helluva lot easier, unless I'm supposed to be the one catching those bastards.

[ He shakes his head with a small huff of a chuckle, fussing with the wrapper on the sandwich idly. ] Space is - amazing, which sounds lame, I know. My CMO likes to say it's disease and danger wrapped in darkness and silence but it's - the border between what we know, and what we've yet to discover. Space is the final frontier, for all life.

And God, the view. [ Jim smiles, glancing Gwen's way again. ] Just when I think I've seen it all, I hit the observatory deck again. Nothing ever beats that view.

Oh, 100%. [She's long since accepted that fate, when she agreed to help Quill in the first place. Oh well. The jet fuel will come in handy, one way or another. Quill might end up doing something cool and saving the day! Or her and Peter will find another use for her synthetic fuel.]

Wow. That's...impressive. [He knows Star Wars but not Battlestar Galatica? Wow. How lame. She'd point out that lameness, if it didn't mean interrupting him as he got on his long winded babbling about space.]

My dad is a Captain. Not-- in space, but. Police. New York City. It's been a heavy burden on his shoulders for a long time. I can only imagine what it's like on a starship. [Granted.. half of his heavy burden was her. Spider-Woman. But that's besides the point, here.]

Did Peter tell you about being in space? Who am I kidding, that's like his favorite thing to bring up, ever. [what a dork, he's so great.] I can't even imagine what it's like. It sounds breathtaking.

[ Many of the things they've been working on have had unexpected uses, so even if it doesn't end up working for the boots, they'd definitely find an application for it. Perhaps the efficacy of the melting point for this new fuel source would be enough to crack the synthesizing of Scott's ruby quartz material...

Jim pauses a beat, gaze flickering to Gwen before it returns to his breakfast sandwich, peeling back the wrapper. ] We do the best with what we have in front of us.

[ The most impressive thing was that he'd survived where many others had lost their lives, and Jim wouldn't take credit for dumb luck. ]

I can see where it would be. More stressful than my job, for sure. [ Jim means it, too, tipping his head in acknowledgement. Extenuating circumstances aside and his diplomatic duties notwithstanding, Jim was responsible for the 430 crew members - but the Captain of a city precinct was responsible at any given time for the safety of what, roughly 100,000 citizens, and probably nearly 500 officers under their command? Especially a police officer in the 21st century, the violence, the crime that had plagued much of Earth at the time. ]

He might have mentioned it once or twice. [ Jim's lips quirk, conspiratorial side-eye in action. Yes, Peter was certainly enthusiastic about his experience in the, quote, 'flying donut'. The Enterprise would knock his socks off. ] Would you want to go, if you could?

Maybe. I certainly don't help. [...That. Might've been a bit more personal information than she meant to share. Peter knows about her dad hunting Spider-Women, but she hasn't exactly admitted it to anyone else yet. Slip of the tongue for a sleepy head? Well, she might as well spit it out, since she knows Jim will probably ask.]

He, uh-- isn't exactly the biggest fan of Spider-Woman. [Which is her. Obviously. Yeah, that's a lot to unpack. She knows it. She hates it. But it is what it is. Her dad can just never know her secret, yep. Which means she has to continue to listen to him rant about the crazy vigilante that supposedly killed her best friend.]

Honestly? I don't know. I never really considered it before. No one's exactly aware of life outside of Earth, where I'm from. At least, not that I'm aware of. [who knows what's going on behind the scenes, with sketchy governments and SHIELD existing.]

Maybe? If the opportunity arose?

[ The information about her father is not quite what Jim was expecting - insofar as he was expecting her to open up about anything, quite honestly - but his expression manages not to slacken into surprise. If anything, there's simply a glimmer of unshakeable curiosity in blue eyes, sliding back to her. ]

He doesn't know?

[ Jim's taking a 50/50 guess, considering - well sometimes you did things you needed to in order to survive, no matter your age. Peter's world was very clearly at war (had lost the war) - and he'd been operating under the (perhaps misguided) understanding that Gwen's world was similar. But maybe it wasn't, not exactly. His and Spock's certainly weren't, in...a number of ways. ]

It's not for everyone. It can be...as horrifying as it is incredible. [ Jim doesn't need to tell her that, though, when she's heard Peter's story. He tries to imagine a world where the extraterrestrial aren't known, where all there is are - humans. Pre-warp humanity. But he was born on a starship; it's the only life he's ever known...still. He thinks they must have had some inkling, with all the science fiction media that they churned out, prior to first contact - or maybe that was just humanity's particular brand of fantasy, something that always seemed to exceed other species'. ] You'd probably like Spock's science division, though. They have all the best toys.

[Gwen shakes her head, trying to find the right words to say next.]

No. He doesn't. I've thought about telling him, but he blames me for-- [She doesn't want to admit, but she's already dug herself in a hole here. Jim isn't exactly going to let her skip by without explaining, is he?]

... for my best friend dying. I tried to save him, but all dad saw was Spider-Women over him dead. [Just. Leaving out the whole "yeah my best friend was Peter" thing for now.

When Jim brings up the downsides of space, she's not surprised to hear it, either. She's heard Peter's story, of course. About the evil alien bend on destroying half the galaxy. And from some of Quill's stories too, it didn't all sound like sunshine and rainbows.]

Yeah? What's his deal, anyway? Spock, I mean. He's not a robot, obviously, but does-- whatever he is-- not do emotions or whatever? I swear I've heard him say "that seems logical" like fifty times already. [yes she's absolutely doing a dumb imitation of him for that quote.]

Ah. [ So much, distilled to one sound. The I'm so sorry, presents itself, but Jim gently sets it aside. Sorry won't help, and he knows that better than most. The damage is done, carved into Gwen's current expression. The weight these teens all seem to carry - the circumstances varied, but it was always of the same dark shade. Jim knew - or had some understanding, at least - what it was to have to shoulder that kind of burden too young. ] That must be painful, Gwen.

[ Acknowledgement, not just for her father, but for herself. Whether she's willing to accept it or not, Jim doesn't make to push her for further admissions she would or wouldn't want to give...one clue as to where he learned that wisdom.

Jim sets down his sandwich, dusting off his hands to let them settle, one forearm propped against the edge of the workstation. It's not the first time he's been asked this question, and he doubts it will be the last. ] Vulcan. They do - well, Spock does, of that I can assure you. But they all do - not that they'll admit it.

Vulcans adhere to a philosophy of logic coined by one of their esteemed ancestors, Surak. [ Jim spreads a hand, as if to indicate the whole of it. ] Believe it or not, they used to be like us. Passionate creatures. They let their emotions rule them, and it led them to a great period of war.

Vulcans do feel emotions, and intensely. [ Jim knows this for fact, after having two of the same Vulcan all up in his noggin. ] It's...just not their way of things, letting it show on the surface. But it is there.

And as for Spock... [ The impression does get him to smile, eyes shining with mirth. ] When you meet him halfway, I think you'll find he's more emotional than he looks. Definitely don't tell him I said that.

It's...been hard. I haven't exactly had anyone to talk to about it, until recently. [Miles and Peter B., to start with. Now Peter, and the other people she's slowly starting to open up to here. It's just not so easy, sharing every part of her when she's gone so long closed off and only letting people see one side.]

I'm... so lucky, to find Peter here. No one understands what we go through, better than each other.

[As Jim starts his explanation of Spock and the Vulcan race, she listens intently. Where else could she get such a lesson on another culture? Another race? The biology major in her is soaking it all in, fascinated by every word.]

Sounds like humans could learn a thing or two from them. [It's supposed to be a joke. Humans are terrible in her lifetime. War and terrorists, even supervillains. But she doesn't believe they're all bad, and maybe not even all inherently evil. People did bad things, out of pain, desperation-- even poverty. She believed fixing things at a socioeconomic level would make a difference, but that's a different rant entirely.]

I think this place is...unique. Especially with Peter here, it's good you two have each other. [ Jim's smile is gentle, an easy, empathetic expression that leaves no room for pity. ] I think you'd be hard-pressed to find somewhere more likely to have people who could understand.

[ Perks of Aldrip, he supposes. There have to be at least a few, right? ]

Oh, we do. [ There's a hint of private amusement in his expression about that, matching Gwen's joking tone, but it's true. ] And they learn from us. Hard to say who learns more, it changes week to week. We're all better for it. Even if Spock drives me nuts, on occasion.

[ He's pretty sure he returns the favor, even if the Vulcan would never admit it. ]

Believe it or not, this is him with softened edges. [ Jim snorts to himself, thinking back to their first meeting, the academic hearing. Extenuating circumstances that followed aside, his Spock had been a sharp, biting personality, ready and willing to cut to the quick to get what he wanted. He wonders if they would have found their way to equilibrium, if life had proceeded in the natural order. ] I don't know that we've mentioned but uh...Spock and I are from different universes. Same as you and Peter. And my Spock - well, we definitely didn't get along at first.

I actually crossed dimensions before. Met a few other Spider-people. Before.. all this. It's special, when you find someone like you. [She thinks about Miles, and Peter B, and all the other wacky spider people she grew to care about often. But that was only a few days. She's already been here over a month, with no end in sight.

But that doesn't change the fact that what she has here is special. What she feels for Peter is special, even if it's only until they can find a way to get back home.]

Only on occasion? [It's a tease, because she can clearly see how close they are. Anyone with eyes could, if they actually looked. But she can imagine what it was like when they first met, when they were both younger and less willing to compromise.]

Yeah, um, no? Well, maybe you did to Peter, but this is the first I'm hearing about it. You're really from different universes? [But they were so in sync? Then again, weren't her and Peter? Maybe sometimes people were just bonded to each other, no matter what version of them it was.]

Your home world has interdimensional travel? [ This is news to Jim, and he won't deny it's intriguing. Probably more accessible than flying through a black hole, too. ] That's incredible. Have you met any other versions of you?

Frequent occasion. [ Jim grins at her as he amends his statement, slow at first, but warming to it. Still, it's not like they've gotten into a knockdown, drag-out fight here in Aldrip - not like they have in the past, though to be fair, those were extreme circumstances. ] But we make it work.

Yeah. He's what we call the Prime timeline. [ Some things just stayed constant, which was good, because Jim didn't know what he'd do if he'd arrived here to a completely foreign Spock. ] There was a...temporal disturbance in my universe that set things off course.

I'm the dark timeline. [ It's said as a joke, but he's not really kidding. Captaincy and the realization of their destiny a decade early, billions dead, a distrustful Federation. Still, Jim skims over it, instead prodding Gwen's breakfast sandwich closer to her before picking up his own. ]

Sort of? It wasn't my Kingpin and Doc Ock that built the machine. They were from a completely other dimension, but because the Spider-Man of that world's DNA got caught up in it, it pulled us-- five of us, all from different worlds and times. [It's...really confusing, when he doesn't know the context and her friends!]

No. No other Gwens. I met a couple of Peters, though. And the older one's life was basically the opposite of mine. He became Spider-Man, while his Gwen died--

[...shit. She said it without thinking, and Jim's too smart to not notice the connotation there. Because if Peter's Gwen died, and her life is the opposite, it's easy to realize that means her Peter died too.

It's not even a secret, because the Peter here already knows. It's her damn crime. It's just something she doesn't like to talk about all that much.]

Oh. Oh wow. [That's actually a lot to process. So Spock was from the original timeline, but Jim's timeline deviated from the original. Which...honestly, doesn't sound too far off from what she's dealt with when it comes to timelines and alternate universes. Because that's basically what happened with her, right? Luck would have it, the spider bit her, and changed the course of everything.]

Did you find this all out when you got here? Cause that's.. a lot. To think you're in the dark timeline. [She thinks of Peter B, comparing his life to Perfect Peter, that came before Miles. Yeah, he died, but his life seemed pretty great before that. Did Peter B feel like his timeline was dark?]

[ Confusing, but not totally unfamiliar. Another universe, infringing on her own, with untold cause and effect? Tell him about it. Jim blows out a breath, shaking his head. ] The temporal investigations guys are going to have their work cut out for them with that one, damn.

[ The accidental admission garners a brief pause from both of them - she knows what she just slipped with, and there's no way Jim can pretend he didn't hear it, even if that's what Gwen might have preferred. It continues to beg the eternal question - did all of these teenagers have intense trauma? ]

...I grieve with thee. [ Something the Vulcans got right and a phrase that Jim steals, most of the time. It's better than I'm sorry, which feels too paltry for that kind of a loss. He knows how close Gwen is with the Peter they both know - she must have been similarly with her own, or at least on the way there.

He's reminded of the Ambassador, finding him in that cave on Delta Vega. Looking at him like he was the ghost of Christmas past, with what Jim thinks he could probably now identify as no small amount of wonder. He'd never asked, but he must have been dead a hundred years over in Spock Prime's timeline. It must have felt so strange, a distant echo of a time gone by. ]

No. Well, he did, I - already knew. [ Jim shakes his head, gaze cutting away for a moment - the enormity of it was too much to face head on, sometimes. ] I don't think, Gwen, I know that I am.

[ He doesn't owe her the proof, hell, maybe she doesn't even want it - but inadvertently or not, she did tell him about her Peter, so Jim sighs and quietly adds: ] There's one less planet in my sky than there is in his.

[ The tone of voice implies very much that it used to be there, and sits heavy with all the weight that carries. ]

Don't worry, we fixed it. We got everyone back to the right dimensions, and Miles destroyed the machine. [At least. That's the assumption. Given that their realities weren't torn apart, she's just assuming Miles was able to complete the task left in his hands. She had no way to know for sure that he survived, she just had to have faith that he could handle it.

She avoids his gaze for a moment, not ready to face her own admission. She mumbles 'thanks', but even then, her heart isn't really in it. She can only imagine what he thinks. Losing a Peter back home, and now getting so close to a Peter here. Even if nothing had happened between her and her Peter, even if they were just best friends, wasn't something between them inevitable? Was it wrong to let herself have a tiny bit of happiness in what she found here? They weren't the same, not by a long shot. She had met a lot of Peters, and they were all similar, but most definitely unique, amazing people. And the Peter here? He was brilliant, and selfless, and so, so kind. But also her equal, something she couldn't say about many.]

He, um. Knows. The Peter you know. It's not really a secret, just. Still hard. He was the first person I failed to save. [And it was only, what? A little over a year ago now? That wasn't even really that long, when it came to mourning. Her mom had been dead a lot longer than that, and were her and her dad really over her either?

It seems like they were both carrying a heavy burden. The way Jim tells her with confidence his truth, that he knows his timeline is the dark one. He even clarifies, sharing with her his loss, presumably because she shared her own.

Their dimensions were really fucked up, huh?]

That's... awful. [Seems menial, to be upset about the loss of one person, when an entire planet's worth of people died. He doesn't say that's so, but the implication is there.]

Was it Earth? [She feels stupid asking, it doesn't actually matter. A planet full of life is a planet full of life, but as someone from Earth, she can't help but wonder.]

The fact that you were able to send them back is honestly amazing. [ Jim gives a low whistle, suitably impressed. His time definitely wasn't advanced enough in the ways of interdimensional travel to be able to send Spock Prime home. He'd live out the rest of his days stuck on an alternate path, over a hundred years in the past.

Jim's not going to judge her, and the beat of silence he lets sit until Gwen is the one to break it is hopefully placid enough with understanding. It didn't even matter if this Peter was the same as Gwen's Peter - he would never replace her Peter. That wasn't how caring about anyone worked. Jim's lost enough in his own time to know that much - and besides, his current Spock situation? Not that far off, save the fact that as far as he was aware, his Spock back home was alive. ]

It doesn't get easier. People like to say that it does, but it doesn't. [ Jim's smile is soft, muted, the kindness born of understanding loss. ] You just get strong enough to bear it, eventually, and Gwen - you are so damn strong. Having Peter's support will help with that, too.

[ Jim has no idea what Peter's reaction to that kind of news might have been like, but then again, he seemed to be suppressing his own shit - they were all just doing the best they could.

Loss is loss, whatever magnitude it comes in. Frankly, it's the quote "smaller" - the more intimate losses - that are worse emotionally, in his opinion. An entire planet being sucked into a black hole was devastating, shocking, incomprehensible in terms of scale - but watching Spock reappear on the transporter pad, hand still outstretched for his mother, was a private kind of horror. ]

No. Guy who did it was headed there next, though. [ He generally doesn't talk about this, the same way Gwen doesn't talk about Peter - Jim wasn't even able to tell Spock, when he arrived - he'd shown him, because he just didn't have the words. Jim runs a hand over his head, finally lifting his gaze to Gwen's, clear blue. ] It was Vulcan.

We just reverse engineered the machine, it was no biggie. [Says the superhero that does nonsense like this on the regular. It was just another day, for her. Sometimes she forgets it's still impressive, to someone looking in from the outside. Even in all the time that he's known her and Peter, they've barely scratched the surface of what it's really like for them.]

I.. know. I lost my mom, a few years ago. [It just leaves an empty hole. An empty space that's never really filled, it just gets smaller, more bearable, until sometimes you actually forget it's empty.

And that anniversary has come up, once again.

But again, it seems menial when Jim continues his tale.]

Oh. Oh. That's-- [Spock's planet, but the words escape her. No wonder Jim thinks of it as the dark timeline. As close as he is to Spock, that would be a huge impact to anyone. She can't even imagine.]

He wasn't there, was he...?

No biggie. Pff. [ Jim can't help but chuckle - yeah, he's no stranger to death-defying feats, he gets that much, at least. They'd literally broken physics with Scotty's transwarp beaming equation - doing the impossible was sometimes the job. ] Solved interdimensional travel, that carbon polymer concoction you guys have been cooking up - you're amazing, Gwen.

[ Yes, he's talking about the webbing, it's a beautiful piece of engineering. ]

I'm sorry. [ The beat of silence that washes over them is born of respect, not awkwardness, giving the moment the breath it deserves. ] That's not easy, just you and your dad.

[ Jim just nods as she processes the information - yeah, it's a lot. They're remarkably well-adjusted, all things considered, but as much as Spock likes to protest that their universes are simply different - equal, just different - Jim knows the truth. ]

My Spock was. [ It's difficult sometimes to think of the Spocks as separate entities, and more so lately for Jim to not admit that this Spock was his Spock now, for all intents and purposes. ] We were trying to stop it, we were just...outgunned.

Edited (i was cleaning my keyboard and it posted without my consent D:<) 2024-07-15 21:45 (UTC)

It's just part of the job. [Gwen shrugs, but it's hard not to smile at the compliment. She might not be doing the job for the praise, but it is nice to hear it sometimes. To know she's not just actually making things worse-- that she's actually doing something good.] But thanks.

[That moment of silence is good. It gives her a minute to collect herself as she nods.]

-- Yeah. It's not. It was easier, when Peter was...I'm sure you get the idea. [It wasn't so lonely. Both of their families would come together. May and Ben, both so kind and loving. But without Peter, that all just fell apart. Her dad became bent on finding Spider-Woman. He worked longer hours, was gone more and more. And she...pushed everyone away.]

Oh. [Oh no. It was even worse than she thought. Did that mean...?]

He didn't...? You know. [She doesn't want to say die, because they've both clearly dealt with enough loss and sadness, but she can't help but wonder. Especially since she's seen how close Jim and Spock are. If he was like that with the Spock from his timeline, then no wonder he said he was in the dark timeline.]

Doesn't make it less amazing. [ Jim nudges her playfully with his elbow, his own grin echoing the smile he managed to get out of her. Most of the time, the job is thankless - it's usually only when it's the most uncomfortable that their actions are praised. But it's nice, sometimes, to be acknowledged for something that doesn't end in blood being shed. ]

It will get easier to bear. [ It's a quiet promise, not a platitude. Speaking from experience is always better than talking out your ass, at least. ] You just have to keep going. Even when...they can't, anymore.

No, he didn't. [ Jim drops his gaze to the table, his half-eaten breakfast sandwich. One hand fidgets idly with the paper, an anxious tic he has when he gets deeper into thoughts, usually of the distressing variety; he notices and quells it, putting his hand in his lap instead. ] Billions did, though. Including...his mother.

[ Spock nearly did, though. Separate occasion, with a volcano. Jim had broken every rule in the book to save him, and the only remorse he had was for getting caught. But all he could think at the time? Please, God, not him. ]

Yeah. I'm...trying. [She thought meeting Miles would make a difference. Open her back up to the possibilities of friends and loved ones, but then they were separated, and the hurt just came back, even worse. As much as she doesn't trust this place, it's been a blessing to have the opportunity to be herself. Not hide her powers. Not hide who she was-- be her whole self, not split herself between two worlds, like she had to do back home.

But she doesn't know what she'll do with herself, going home after experiencing this freedom, losing all these friends she's started to care about. She doesn't know if she can handle another big loss like that.]

Wow. That's... terrible. [She can barely imagine how awful that would be. Such high stakes. She's mostly just been a friendly neighborhood Spider-Woman. Stakes were high, but not usually that high. Fighting Kingpin over the collider was the biggest stakes she had faced, with six dimensions at risk. That's the closest she could possibly think of, but they won.

Billions didn't die. She can't imagine how it must feel, to fail at that level.]

I'm so sorry. But you stopped them, right? Before they made it to Earth?

[ Aldrip has a lot of surprising upsides. Much as it, obviously, sucked to be trapped here against their will - on average, things were...good. Maybe Jim was biased, not having experienced some of the more unpleasant things that were purported to have happened - he wasn't here for the bombing, hadn't experienced a 'sentencing' yet. Still, he understands that perhaps there are things that could be missed about this place - especially when it comes to Peter and Gwen, now knowing what she's lost, in her world.

If Jim compares his situation with Spock, well, shut up, no he doesn't. He resolutely does not.

Jim offers a helpless half-shrug; yeah, it does. There's no words he's ever been able to find that manage to make it any less terrible. Any way he turns it, round and round in his mind - it's one of the most terrible things he's ever had the unpleasant fortune to bear witness to. And for Jim, personally, that's saying something.

And there is nothing else so personal a failure. Even if, no matter how he turns it, he couldn't think of anything else he could have done. ]

We did. [ A hard smile, one that doesn't speak to any kind of happiness, but more...satisfaction. ] Kicked some Romulan ass. Right into a black hole, but that was their choice.

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[open] gwen's birthday bash

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