Disassembled: The Omitted Chapters I, Mayday

Timelined fics featuring our current students and others.
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Butt Monkey
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Disassembled: The Omitted Chapters I, Mayday

Post by Chaos » Wed Jan 15, 2014 5:43 pm

These events are not chronological, they may have happened months ago at no specifically defined time. In the interest of timeline friendliness all events leading up to (spoiler alert) the return of Mayday Parker to the Scrawlers universe proper will be collected in this thread, ending with an instance that will land her back into the lives of the other characters.


Some time ago...

"Mayday? Darling?"

At the sound of her name the redhead snapped back to reality. She was sat hunched forward on her apartment's soft leather sofa across from her mother. 'It's really her apartment. I just live here.' She looked down into the large cup in her hands, nose inhaling and registering the sweet, burning taste of the black coffee within, steam licking up past her flushed ivory cheeks. Her blue eyes like hollow ice, flickering to her mother's face.

Mary-Anne Webber bore a stark contrast to her daughter in everything she was. Mayday let her eyes focus on her. 'She's Cinderella as the princess, and I'm the poor servant girl she was before.'. Mary-Anne wore blood shade red lipstick to match her dress, an elegant one-piece that offered kindness to her supple curves. Makeup concealed what little of her age was present on her face, and unlike Mayday, who's hair was a tangle of crimson knots at present, her hair was like tamed fire, curling at the back in an almost regal bun with a rebellious flick that traced gently down before her right ear. Like a snake. Like her. Full of passion and poise, and a tempting sexuality. "You're not happy, are you?", she asked, hands around her own cup - black, opposite of Mayday's white one.

"N-no.", her daughter started. How could she not be? The question irritated her; she had everything she once did. Mostly everything; she had this home, a fully modernised apartment with flashy furniture - clever slide-out shelves in the kitchen, a fireplace that looked more like a rocket engine when lit up -saved only by the faux stone surrounding it, the floors were all laminated wood and had a shiny cream that reflected well against the wax-white walls and the chrome and jet shelving units. She had framed posters from sci-fi movies, a collection of models and books her mother had helped her procure to make up for the loss of all her old nostalgia and comics. She even had a new combo of consoles, a more advanced PC than her old unit, and a TV that made other TVs look like products of the 1900s.

And for all that she was still miserable.

"It's not...you've given me everything, Mom, and it's...a dream come true.", Mayday admitted, the silence having done its part to hurt her mother - makeup and manner couldn't hide the truth in her sapphire eyes, " I'm just..."

"You miss them.", her mother said simply.

Mayday nodded. "It feels like it was yesterday. I dream about that night a lot, only in my dreams everyone dies but me. I wake up and I'm almost...I'm thankful of reality because it's not as bad as my nightmares.", she sat back, her body naked beneath her N7 Hoodie (another somewhat alien replacement of something she once owned) feeling prickly, restless, "Sometimes I feel like something in me died that day too."

Her mother stood up - a feat her daughter thought admirable in those high sable heels - and slipped over to sit beside her, resting her cup on the glass coffee table before the sofa and offering her arm. "I'm sorry, little Maybug.", Mary-Anne sighed, closing her arms around the younger girl.

Mayday felt she would have usually protested the use of that name. 'Maybug'. Every time she heard it she remembered that there was a time this woman had deserted her - and her twin - into fostering. She'd been born from an affair with Richard Parker, a mild-mannered code writer for Horizon Industries, one of the world's leading IT Solution companies. Mary-Anne's husband was CEO of Horizon, and she'd met Richard at a company party. According to what Mayday had deduced, they'd always shared a cat-and-mouse flirtatious relationship; Richard was the shy, coy male who thought of Mary-Anne as a dream come true, the Queen who could love the pauper. Mary-Anne liked being loved, plain to say. From that, however, she'd ended up pregnant and, unbeknownst to her husband, had left him not because 'she needed time alone', but to give birth to Mayday and Robin Parker.

The two were separated while young, and eventually had met again (though Mayday was certain he didn't care for re-uniting the family). However, as they lived alone Mary-Anne had a hand in their development, pouring money into their foster care anonymously, a phantom hand guiding their lives. She loved her children. All three of them. Mayday, Robin, and their half-sister April. All three of her parents did, really. Richard had discovered he had a daughter and had become the doting father she'd always craved, and even Gerrard Fontaine had said to her that all he cared about was looking after his children (even if they were only half his own).

No, instead Mayday found herself leaning against her mother's shoulder, taking a deep breath of the queer mingling that was coffee bean and Estelle Lauders, relaxing with a relieved exhalation and leaning free only to place her coffee cup down beside her mother's own.

The embrace lasted a few silent moments, broken only by their breathing before Mary-Anne moved away to look at Mayday properly, "You know what you need?",

"A sidekick ", Mayday answered in a deadpan tone, smiling wryly.

Her mother frowned a little at that, "You need to put that suit away and be done with it, little lady. That's not what I was going to suggest but it's a step in the right direction.", she stroked Mayday's frizz-crinkled hair out of her face, "You need to be Mayday Parker again. But we need to make her happy, inside and out.", she stood, approaching her previous seat and fetching her handbag from beside it, "I'm thinking a makeover, a wardrobe change, dinner at Raoul's and drinks at Hellfire."

Mayday blinked. The Hellfire Club? She'd almost forgotten the place even existed - not that she imagined that it would be the same now: Sebastian Shaw was gone without a trace just like everyone else, and the 'Circle of Five' or whatever shady organisation ran the inner workings of the place were probably intent on pretending everything was still the same as it had been. Mayday was more than happy to leave it like that, too; last time she was there she'd not exactly been...'her mother'. 'I kicked the crap out of a bunch of bouncers and managed to earn the 'Spectacular Spider-Girl' a spectacular barring...'. She shook her head, "I should not be in a place like that."

"You're a Webber, darling, and wi-..."

"I'm a Parker! With a 'puh'."

"...and with that carries a certain status.", Mary-Anne persisted, "I want you to just try it, ok? Walk in there and show them that even beneath the mask you command respect! It'll be fun!"

"It'll be social suicide..."

"Cassis would do it, I bet.", it was only after saying that off-hand that Mary-Anne turned around, "...May, I'm sorry, I just..."

"No.", Mayday stopped her, hand raised. She was hurt that nobody - including Cassandra St. Commons - had contacted her in any way. In her wisdom she'd considered that they merely couldn't. 'They must have their reasons...'. Her own calls had fallen on dead lines and deaf ears, and she'd found virtually no trace of anyone who hadn't outright been killed that night. She worried for them, but had long since given up on hearing anything. She stood, "No, you're right.", she nodded, "Cassie always said I should be more adventurous, why the hell not?", she shrugged, "Make your call and I'll be right back."

She left her mother dumbstruck but happy, diving through her cellphone contacts to sort them out an appointment. Mayday entered her bedroom, closing the door, pulling off her hoodie and opening the trunk at the foot of her bed.

Within it were all the suit parts she could salvage; the one she used more frequently these days was a red and blue home-made thing, sporting a few stains she couldn't get out and the odd bit of crude binding where she couldn't find any other substance to stitch with. It was made using parts of her old X-er costume as well as parts of her cityfaring variant. The result was what she considered 'a beautiful patchwork abomination': the culmination of her great journey, and a testament to who she'd become. Parts of her old armour suit that could be used lined the new costume - which looked visibly older than the remnants of the ablative suit itself. Her ink-black armour still remained, in pieces, alongside her new peripherals, as did a small collection of her old gadgets; the original tracer darts, the sharpie and torch she carried and a belt-mounted, miniature red floodlight with a spider silhouette lens (she was nothing if not a sucker for the over-dramatic).

She lifted her newer mask into her hands, the makeshift eyeholes covered with golden mirror-frames. Her own face was reflected in them, and she didn't fail to note the importance of that idea: "I am the Spider-Girl.", she said aloud to herself, "But I'm Mayday Parker, too."

She wasn't dead, so she should live. But she wasn't prepared to let the mask die with the place it had come from. 'I'm both or I'm neither.'. Sure, she'd lay low for a while, convince the world that the Spider-Girl was gone for now, convince her mother of the same, but she wasn't. She'd be back.

After all, wasn't that what Cassie would do, too?

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