Peter Parker looks over his alter ego's outfit in the basement of his home that was laid on his desk; an old black double rider leather jacket, a pair of sturdy olive green trousers, and beaten up black leather combat boots.
The jacket belonged to his father while the trousers and beaten up boots came from his uncle during his time in the marines, more specifically during his time in the Vietnam War.
He managed to shrink them to fit his frame better, a bit time consuming but not by much. Now it was time to add some personal touches.
The boy starts with the easiest part, the pants. He takes the still damp pants and places them in the pot of boiling azure blue dye, dye of his own making, he stirs the pot with a long wooden spoon.
As the genius stirs he adds a cup of salt to enhance the color of the dye. After ten minutes pass he scoops the pants out and looks it over.
The olive green is replaced with a startling blue, nodding he stands up and lays the trousers across a webline spanning across the room.
He then turns back to his workstation to sit down, taking the laceless boots he places then right in front of himself before grabbing a cloth along with a leather deglazer, again of his own creation, and tips the deglazer on the left boot.
Using the cloth he rubs the chemicals into the leather in small circles, as he moves along the boots Peter uses a different part of the cloth.
Once he's done he moves on to the right.
After the leather finish has been removed from both boots he grabs a candy apple red dye, once again made by him, takes another cloth and tips it in the concoction before rubbing it in the right boot. After applying a single layer he moves onto the left boot.
It'll take hours for the dye to dry and while it does he places the boots on the floor beside him before dragging the leather jacket in front of him. He uses the same cloth and begins applying his red dye to the jacket.
Once he's done with that he takes the jacket and stands up to lay it next to the pants on the webline.
Peter takes out his flip phone and checks the time; after searching the numerous boxes in the basement, finding the clothes, shrinking them, creating the dyes along with leather deglazer, and finally applying them three hours had passed.
It's eight o'clock in morning and he's not even halfway done.
He still needs to make the drone, the camera for the drone, motion tracking software for the drone, a device to corrupt his image when others try to capture it, and create a blog along with a PayPal account.
Maybe he can jury rig his phone to act as a… a digital jammer, interfering with the signals phones and cameras use to convert the pictures they take into pixels.
Yeah, that'll have to work.
He also needs to go to a dump, pillage whatever he can to use for the drone and camera.
After that is when he'll make the software for motion tracking. Easier said than done but doable, he'll probably need to pilfer from a free program to establish the base before improving it for his needs.
Oh!
He also needs to create a mask, something to match the red his leather jacket is going to be.
Maybe cut up his red hoodie? It's about the shade he was looking for. He could add the hood to the collar, use the midsection for the mask, and repurpose some old sunglasses as the lenses.
Peter groans, he's going to need to watch so many YouTube videos, isn't he?
The easiest part of his day will be creating a website and PayPal.
Though what should the name of his blog be?
.
.
.
'Ugh! I'm not going to waste brain power on this.' He has spider powers, uses spider webs, why not commit to the bit?
Spidernest and he'll call himself the… human spider.
Peter nods, yeah he likes it. Describes him perfectly.
~Spider-Man Evolution~
Harry Osborn sits on his couch in his penthouse, or really pentmansion, apartment watching t.v.
The entire place screamed of old money, the kind of money that had been with a family for a generations. The walls and floor were made of deep mahogany wood, statues lined the hallways, classical art pieces hung on the wall, and the furniture was ripped straight from a medieval Britain catalog.
All of it was just for show, of course.
His father was as new money as new money got. Just posturing, his dad was good at that.
"Ring!~Ring!~" Harry takes his smart phone out from his pocket he looks at the name.
Front desk
He answers, "Yes?"
"Hello, Mr. Osborn, there's a boy here saying he's here for you a Peter Benjamin Parker."
Harry sits up, "Yeah, he's legit. Send him up."
"Alright sir, I hope you have a good day."
The teen stands up and stretches, he wakes out of the living room into the great room where the private elevator is stationed.
He waits, tapping his foot all the while and as he hears a ding the boy puts a calming smile on his face.
The doors slide open and he blinks at who greets him.
'That's not Peter?'
The other teen is maybe a couple inches smaller than him with vibrant red hair and startling yellow eyes that almost glow when the sun hits them.
He didn't even know eyes could be yellow.
The strangers' features are sharp, well defined.
The only thing less than sterler about him is his baggy clothes that hang off of him like drapes; a white button up shirt that was folded up to his elbows and tucked into stone colored khakis that rested at his belly button and the ends stuffed into suede boots that definitely saw better days.
'Wow and I thought Peter needed help.'
"Hey, Har." The boy greets with an excited smile.
That's… it kind of sounds like Peter but deeper. Looking at him with a scrutinizing eye he can recognize a few features from the boy.
But that's not possible.
Right?
"You're ready for the tutoring session?" The other boy walks in, an olive green computer bag hanging from his shoulder.
Harry hums with hesitance, "You're Peter?"
The possible genius blinks before giggling, "Yeah, I know I look different I guess… um… puberty hit me like a freight train."
The older boy narrows his eyes, "Yeah, I don't think puberty lets you grow a foot in three days and have glowing eyes."
Peter looks to the side with an awkward smile, "They're not glowing."
'He didn't deny my accusation, so definitely not a sudden burst of hormones.' Harry considers his options, he could try to push but honestly, who cares?
"Whatever you say Pete." He walks over and slings his arm over the younger boy's shoulder, "But I gotta say, you need some new clothes and fast."
The genius blushes, "I mean, I don't look that bad, do I?"
Harry hums with a wince, "You look like you're playing dress up."
The preteen slumps, "Can't you sugar coat it?"
"I'm your friend, guy. Friends don't lie to each other." The older boy responds and feels the kid tense. 'Whoa, he feels like steel!' Did this kid experiment on himself or something?
Harry's mind stalls at the thought, 'Did… did he experiment on himself?'
Did Harry Osborn, the disgraced son of Norman Osborn, find and become friends with the guy that managed to recreate the fabled super soldier serum?
Outlandish!
No way some twelve year old managed to do what every government in the world for the past eighty years couldn't.
But… but no one grows a foot in a few days, no one feels this solid without some serious training.
Hell, Harry's been playing ice hockey along with baseball since junior high and his muscles don't feel this firm.
Maybe… maybe it's not so outlandish.
He has no idea how but does that really matter? The teen can't let this literal golden goose go.
The two walk into the dining area, in the middle of the room is an incredibly long table that could easily seat fifty people.
Overkill, right?
He sits in front of where he left all the material the boy told him to get and pats the seat next to him.
Peter sits and places his bag on the floor beside him, "Alright, let's get started then." He drags the stack of papers in front of him and starts to go through it quickly, taking only a few seconds to study a page before moving on to the next.
'Eidetic memory? Makes sense can't get a Phd at the same time if his memory wasn't freaky good, could he?'
After about five minutes, the possible super soldier seems done with the pile of work and turns to him, "Alright, I think I know where you need to focus," He grabs his bag from the floor and brings out two notebooks along with two pencils giving one to him. "Write what you can and if you need me to slow down or repeat anything tell me, alright?"
"You got it, Pete." Harry nods in understanding and flips open the notebook, the kid does the same.
"So from what I read your, well to put it bluntly, you're pretty far behind but the material isn't too hard. Your biology two class is currently focusing on the cellular anatomy of the sperm cell and its function in the reproductive cycle. You have a test at the end of the week, I think the best bet to raise your grade as much as possible is to get as much extra credit as you can."
Harry shakes his head, "Mr. Warren doesn't give extra credit on tests, he says it undermines the integrity of the assessment "
Peter shakes his head, "Trust me, all teachers give extra credit, if you impress them enough."
The teen looks dubious at the statement but nods.
What followed was the longest most complicated lecture Harry had ever been on the receiving end of, filled with detailed diagrams, definitions that were a paragraph or more long, and history lessons on the multiple scientists who studied the sperm cell.
He once thought Mr. Warren teaching was extreme for a highschool class but comparing the two he had to say the educator would be a four to Peter's ten.
After an hour the teen had a headache the size of mount everest.
"Let's take a break." Peter suddenly said.
"Oh thank god!" Harry exclaimed, slamming his head against the table, "I thought you said it was going to be easy?"
"No." The boy shakes his head, "I said it wasn't going to be too hard."
The highschooler raises his head to the side and glares.
Peter shrugs, "Come on Harry, you followed along pretty well, wrote everything down."
"I also had to ask you to slow down half a dozen times and dumb things down about two dozen times! God, I still have about a million questions about some of the stuff you were talking about!"
The boy pats his shoulder, "That just means you're interested. The more questions you feel like asking, the more you're paying attention."
"Hm.~" He presses his lips together, "Sure, okay." Sighing, he leans back in his chair and presses the palms of his hands against his eyes. "So, what University are you attending anyway?"
"NYU, why?"
"Nice." Harry says with a grin, "I still can't believe you're actually getting a Phd. I can barely manage highschool and here you are four years younger and so much further ahead." He leans in. "How did you do it?"
The kid genius scratches his cheek and pushes the bridge of his nose before realizing there's nothing to push up, "Well, I took a lot of A.P exams and college courses during elementary and middle school, so I was able to get the maximum amount of credits transferred which took out a good chunk of my prerequisites and few core classes for my biochemistry degree. Then I overloaded my schedule with an absurd number of classes." An embarrassed blush spreads across his cheeks. "That took a lot of emails and meetings but in the end they let me do what I wanted with the stipulation I wasn't allowed to receive a refund if I decided to drop out of any of them. Of course I managed, which was only made easier because the majority of them were online with no real instructor."
Peter takes a breath.
"When I received my bachelor in biochemistry I applied to the doctoral program and did the exact same thing, overloaded my schedule. I had to beg all over again but now I'm almost done."
Harry huffs in disbelief, "Why go through all the trouble though, why not just take your time."
"Debt." The boy shrugs uncomfortably.
The teen winces, "I heard that can get bad."
He sighs shakily, "Yeah, I managed to get a couple grants, scholarships, and fellowship but my uncle still needed to get a loan for me, a pretty sizable one."
"Damn."
"Yeah, damn."
"How many classes were you taking anyway?"
"Um, about sixteen for my undergraduate year and the first semester for my doctoral year, currently I'm taking eight."
Harry clutches his chest, "Six… sixteen classes! My god, are you a masochist?!"
Peter shivers and feels the urge to explain himself, "I did the math. Tuition for NYU a semester is about sixty thousand dollars; with financial aid, my scholarships, and grants I cut that in half but that's still thirty thousand dollars a semester, two semesters a year for four years that's over a hundred thousand dollars. The situation is a bit better for graduate students but not by much; Ben can't afford that, it would have killed him. "
"He wanted the best for you." The Osborn scion mutters, a hint of jealousy shining through his eyes.
Little Einstein nods, "He did. So I figured, if I couldn't convince Ben to let me go to a less expensive school then I needed to finish as fast as possible. Still costs a pretty penny but not as much as it would have If I took my time."
Harry hums in thought, "If there was ever a reason."He stands up and twists the creaks in his back. "You hungry?"
The kid begins to shake his head before suddenly stopping, a confused look forms as if he didn't know if he was actually hungry or not.
"I… could eat."
"Alright." He nods, "Pizza?"
"Hawaiian." Peter immediately agrees.
The older boy gags, "Get out!" He points to the exit, getting a snort from his small friend. "I will not let someone like you, someone who would tarnish the food of the gods with your wicked taste buds."
The preteen laughs, he tries to cover it but ends up choking on the noise.
Harry laughs along with him as he pulls his phone out, entering his passcode he swipes to the app page and finds the icon for dominos.
A few minutes pass as he orders the food but when he's done he pockets the device, "Want to kill some zombies?"
Peter eyebrows furrow, "Kill some zombies?"
"Yeah, you know Call of Duty? Famously known for its Zombie Mode. " At the blank look he receives, he can't help the affronted look on his face or in his tone, "Don't tell me you've never heard of Call of Duty?!"
"Sorry to disappoint you but nope."
"Dude it's one of the most popular first-person shooter video games in the world! How have you never heard of it?"
The other shrugs, his lips pressed firmly together, the edges twisting up before being pushed down, "I'm not all that interested in video games, they just seem boring, like what's the point?"
Harry narrows his eyes, "You're fucking with me."
The boy lets the smile spread, "Yeah, I am. I mean dude, come on."
The teen rolls his eyes, "Whatever."
The two boys walk to the living room and Peter's eyes pop open at the t.v that took up almost the entire wall, "Whoa."
"Yeah, pretty awesome right?" Harry plops down and grabs two XBOX controllers, giving one to the kid beside him.
He presses the icon on the controller, turning the gaming system on before grabbing the t.v remote and switches the output channel.
After a couple of minutes Harry starts the game.
~Spider-Man Evolution~
"You're in my way!"
"What are you talking about?! I'm taking care of it, go somewhere else!"
"G…go somewhere else?! Where would I go! Point it to me and I'll go there?!"
Harry and Peter were deep in the game, slaughtering zombies with abandon, the younger boy plays with one hand as he eats a pizza slice with another.
"Fuck! Heal me! Heal me!" Harry screams.
"I'm on my way." Peter finishes the pizza and locks in, running to Harry's position only to be intercepted by a horde, "Oh god damn it!"
"Pete! Hurry up, man!"
"I'm trying, I swear!"
"Try harder!!"
Peter tries to run away but by the time he loses the horde Harry's dead.
"Man, fuck." The teen hangs his head and slumps.
The younger boy pats his friend's shoulder, "Alright, I think that's it." He stands up and stretches, after he grabs another slice from the coffee table and devours it.
Harry looks over at the genius who just finished the last slice of his third box of pizza without a second thought, 'Definitely not a normal appetite, no one can finish that much food without being obese.' He stands up, "Yeah it's getting late, text you later?"
Peter smiles, "Definitely, anytime." He offers a hand.
The teen slaps it before forcing a fist number, "You got it."
The boy walks out of the room into the dinning room and gathers his backpack before heading towards the elevator, when it opens he walks in and turns around giving a wave to his older friend, "Later Har."
"See you soon, Pete." Harry slutles with a smirk.
When the doors close, the teen places his hands in his pockets and heads back to the living room. He turns the Xbox off and switches the output channel back to cable.
Leaning back into the couch, he lets his mind wander as he absentmindedly watch t.v occasionally reaching from what's left of the pizza he ordered a few hours ago.
Eventually he finds himself laying down, the hours passing silently before his phone starts blowing up. Pulling the device out of his pocket he sees dozens of messages from friends and acquaintances, almost every one was a video of some kind.
Raising a brow, he opens one and his eyes widen as he sees a blurry red and blue figure clinging to the top monitor of the Times Square New Tradition, the large tower structure in the middle of the area, in a crab-like position.
The video glitches and cuts out but it's enough to grab his attention.
Flying ahead of the mysterious person is an object of some kind, it's too far out and Harry can't tell what it is.
He hears whispers from the crowd that turn into screams as they drop from the monitor, the thing in front of them doesn't follow.
Harry sits up and stares in horror as they get closer to the pavement only for them to… to raise an arm and a white rope leaves their wrist.
"Oh my god…"
The… superhuman starts to swing, screaming in joy. He lets go of the rope and back flips in the air before launching another rope with his opposite hand to continue their course before disappearing into the city.
The video ends and Harry immediately leaves his messages and begins searching online for more information.
It doesn't take him long to find what he's looking for.
Spidernest.Com
Clicking on the link he finds a single picture; it's the side profile of the impossible figure clinging to the monitor in Times Square, the outfit looks partial hand made but impressive nonetheless. It hugs the person tightly, revealing a thin build.
He wears a bright red biker jacket with a slightly darker red wool hood drawn up, bright blue cargo pants that were tucked into leather boots the same shade as the jacket. Around their wrists are large bracers of some kind.
The mask seems to be made of the same material as the hood with yellow tinted sunglasses lenses sewn into it.
He looks at the tag line.
"No fucking way."
Photos by: Peter Benjamin Parker.
"This kid is playing with fire." Harry mutters with a laugh as clicks on a menu icon searching for more material and finds a section titled; First super human appearance, is it the last?
Clicking on it he huffs in amusement as he's hit with a paywall. The teen is sure he isn't the only one desperate for some actual footage, Peter must be ranking in the green.
He creates a profile and pays for it easily enough before being sent to another page, at the top is the video he's just seen, clicking on it the difference is apparent. The quality is much better and much closer up, the object in the other video is obviously some type of drone recording everything.
Harry sees what's obviously Peter falling to his apparent doom, the camera zooming on their back only to raise an arm up. The rope doesn't shoot out of him but the bracers and what shoots out isn't rope but webbing.
"That is so fucking cool."
When the video ends he scrolls down the page seeing an article. It's long winded, filled with words he's never seen and names he's never heard talking about the complexity of the human body along with its hidden potential. It goes on describing people with genetic disorders and extreme conditioning that has allowed them to develop fantastical abilities.
It goes on a brief tangent on the possibly fictional Captain America and the mythical super soldier serum along with its impact on modern society before diving deeply into how likely such a thing and person could have existed.
The statistics are staggering but not completely impossible.
He then writes about the likelihood of the 'Human Spider' being what he dubs an meliorate; someone who has been enhanced by outside means.
The article then brings up something called the X-Gene and how much more likely Peter has it.
"Whoa…" Harry can't help the mutter of amazement as he reads about the possibility of naturally occurring super powers and that the human race may be entering the next step of human evolution.
He wonders how he's never heard of it, how it's not on every news channel, how it's not taught in school.
Charles Xavier calls the possible carriers of the X-Gene mutants, relating to the mutation of the X chromosome but I find that degreatory. The word mutant brings up the image of ghastly deformed creatures with no place in normal society. Instead I propose we identify them as the marvel of human evolution; The Human Spider may be a meliorate or they may be a marvel.
But whatever he is one thing is for certain; they are marvelous.
Harry turns his phone over as he lays back down, staring at the ceiling, "The world just got a whole lot freakier, didn't it?" He grins and laughs. "You're going to change the world, aren't you Pete?" He shakes his head a moment later. "Though Human Spider, really? Couldn't come up with anything better?"