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What was about to become of me, I had no clue, all I knew, was that the only person I could trust with my new identity, or at least that I could trust for now, until I saw Harley face to face, was this faceless punk.

All I knew about him was his style, and voice. A somewhat Northern, or Londoner accent, punk fashion, guitar playing, spike bearing, skinny jean wearing, punk. He knew both cities as well as anyone, it was pure chance I had met him, and I had no clue whether or not I regretted it.

He sat across from me, his hands clasped together. We sat in silence. He knew me, both me's, and I? Well. I just knew this side of him, or at least, that's all I think of which that I know of him. He seemed familiar.

"Well, I can't exactly say that I was lookin' to gain a..sidekick or protège.. but we'll, guess that's 'ow things end up," He finally speaks.

I click my tongue before responding. "And I can't really say I was looking to risk my life when it came to signing up to this 'Artificiallh Produced Spider-Man' business." I speak back to him, after staring blankly for a solid few seconds.

An audible sigh could be heard coming from behind his mask. "Yeaah..I feel like you're owed an apology for that. But, I wasn't told anythin' 'bout..well, side effects. Since I obviously didn't get any." He plays, his mask obviously winking.

I definitely found it, strange, how the masks moved with a spider-persons facial expressions, but, guess that was just how technology was, expect considering they could just.. create spider people out of nowhere.

I continue to think for a little while, if I really wanted to, I could probably get whoever performed the biological adjustments with a lawsuit, considering I didn't have to sign anything, and I wasn't given forms to read... But, given the scale of an opportunity I had been given, well, I wouldn't want to betray my new friend.

"I still feel as though I owe you something.. even if it ain't a formal apology, 'cause I don't got a clue when it comes to starting them. Since you're now..well.. a Spider-woman, too, like me.. come." He stands up, walking outside and grabbing my hand, pulling me in once more. "We..need to get you your own web shooter soon.. unless you can shoot your own. But, we'll test that out later, first, let's just get back to my place."

The punk let's go as we swing into an alley, one that was closed off and...next to my apartment building? What on earth were we doing here? He started to scale up the wall.

'Did he not say that we were heading to his apartment?' I wondered to myself. I watched as he scaled up to the level of my apartment, was he about to go into my apartment? No. He went into the one next to it.

I look at the wall, then to my hands, switching between them. How on earth did he just...scale. I place my hands on the wall, surely it couldn't be..thaaat difficult. I inhale, attempting to mentally prepare myself to.. climb.

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By the time I reached his apartment, I was exhausted. I may as well have just taken the elevator, but, well, you've got to learn to climb... even with sticky, spider hands.


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The smell of something baking could be heard from the kitchen. The distinct scent of cookies wafting through the air. The apartment was warm, contrasting against the cool breezes outside. A gentle sound of humming could be heard from what appeared to be the lounge.

A man was sat on the sofa. The punk. He still had his mask on, was he...afraid? Nah.

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I watch as he waves his hand and moves his head. "Come over here." He requests. I nod, walking over to where he was, sitting down on a chair across from him. He reaches up to the back of his neck, pulling off the mask without hesitation. "How are you even cooler under your mask..." I mumble, my voice barely audible.

"I was this cool the whole time.

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