❝ and even as we fall, my eyes will still be on you ❞
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four identities
two teenagers
one love
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| peter parker // oc |
| marvel mcu |
| pre civil war → endgame |
| #1 in Peter Parker Fanfic |
| #2 in Spider-Man |
| #1 in Marvel Fanfic |
| s...
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» things just got real «
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SCOUT PAXTON WAS NOTORIOUS FOR NEVER GETTING ENOUGH SLEEP. Ever since her hero night life began, she probably got five hours a night, but ever since she'd discovered the cracks in Barracuda's armor, sleep was a myth to her. She spent the next three nights testing out any and every element that could possibly be manufactured into the suit. Terbium was a no go. There was no sign of Palladium, and Indium was nonexistent.
She crossed off every possibility, her periodic table now looking like a scribbled mess. She sighed, tossing her pen onto her desk, her small lamp being the only light source in the early morning. She leaned back in her chair, sighing in frustration, looking over her shoulder at the piece of metal sitting on her bed. That damn thing had created a shade of dark circles under Scout's eyes that she didn't know was possible.
Her room had become a whirlwind of gadgets, tools, and engineering materials over the past days, and she'd desperately been trying to make lead in at least one of her critical projects. Her grenades were almost done, still needing the spring to be completed although. But with a little digging on the deep web, she'd come across a name that could possibly help her, and she'd made an appointment to meet with them later. As for her idea in producing an aide for targeting the cracks in the suit, she had an idea, but it required pure silver to be built, which she didn't have. The armor was what was driving her the most crazy; she hadn't the slightest idea what could be manufactured into it that was so unidentifiable.
Scout stood up from her desk, beginning to feel overwhelmed. She lumbered over to her bed, picking up the armor and collapsing onto the mattress. She sat against her pillows, tossing the metal in her hands, her tired eyes scanning over it for the thousandth time, her brain going into overdrive trying to figure out the mysterious material. She tried to bend it, her knocked turning white as she attempted to break it. As she predicted, it didn't work. Then she smacked it against the wall, and it ricocheted, flying out of her hands and landing back on the foot of the bed.
