1963-11-25 - A Familiar Face
Summary: Jessica Drew isn't the only one feeling like a tourist in her own life lately.
Related: None
Theme Song: None
gwen drew 


This is probably not healthy.

For the second day in a row — first on Thanksgiving, and now late in the afternoon on Friday — Jessica Drew has found herself in a very familiar Queens neighborhood. She doesn't belong here and she knows it. Peter belongs here, not her. But here she is, sitting at a bus stop within view of the Parker residence. Again.

Jessica tugs her coat that little extra bit closed as she watches across the way, finding it easy to ignore the November chill. She can't even see much from this distance, just the occasional shape moving past a window. But she's still watching. Like a creeper.

*

Thwip… thwip… thwip… Gwen makes her way through Queens, not-coincidentally in Jessica's direction. To be honest, she still isn't entirely sure what's going on. Just that her house seems to be someone else's, and noone seems to know who the heck she is. It's been a confusing time.

She really shouldn't be doing this, but she's still kind of hoping she'll come back here and everything will be back to normal. Well. *Her* normal. It is, by other measures, quite normal.

She doesn't really mean to take the same vantage point Jessica's favoring, but it just kind of works out that way. And caught up in her own thoughts as she is, she doesn't notice the other girl til her costumed feet crunch to a landing nearby.

Hell. "Oh, um.. sorry! I was… just passing through, I didn't mean to disturb you!" Her hand goes right back up to beat a retreat via webline. Flight is still her general instinct in unfamiliar territory.

*

There's no tickle at the back of Jessica's head — no danger, after all. But she does seem to pause shortly before the costumed figure lands nearby, lifting her head to peer over just in time.

It's a very familiar face that gives Gwen a surprised look. Not quite right, obviously, but the eyes are definitely the same, and so is that quizzical pinch to her brow. She blinks twice and slowly drops her hand, which had been poised just over the dark red… scarf?… bunched up around her neck.

"Oh. Uh. Don't sweat it?" Jessica's not sure why they're apologizing, but the least she can do is accept it gracefully, right?

*

It's the familiar-but-not that gives Gwen pause, hand still extended in classic thwipping position, just shy of actually doing so. Her head tilts, and the eyes of the costume shift just enough to telegraph the brow furrow.

"Uh…. please don't take this the wrong way, but you *are* a girl, right?"

*

"So they tell me." The comeback and impish smile are immediate, but the way Jessica peers at her a little more closely suggests she's giving that question more thought.

Even so, Jessica reaches up to run her hands back through her hair, drawing it back out of her face. "Why do you ask?"

*

Gwen gives herself a visible shake, and her body language is a touch uncomfortable, at least right away. "Oh, ah… you just remind me of someone. Things have been very strange lately, but not THAT strange." She thinks. It's actually worse than she thinks, all told.

*

Jessica can't help it — 'things have been very strange lately' earns a barked laugh and she leans back on the bench, casting a brief look skyward. "You're telling me. It's, uh. It's probably nothing," she quickly adds, offering the masked woman another smile. "Maybe I just have one of those faces?"

*

"Unless your name's Peter," Gwen quips quickly, without thinking about it. "You remind me of him a bit, but that's ridiculous. I'm probably just losing my mind." She gestures in a kind of flippant fashion. "I mean, I'm *supposed* to live in that house over there" A vague wave "but my bandmate lives there instead. And she didn't know who i am. I'm starting to think I'll just wake up confused any time now."

*

Well now this girl's got Jessica's full attention. She cranes her neck to peer towards the house Gwen points at, stuffing her hands into the pockets of her coat. "Your — MJ started that band fast," she murmurs, her eyebrows leaping up her forehead. She sounds impressed.

…wait. "That's weird, though. She's lived there as long as I can remember," Jessica admits, her brow furrowing in thought.

*

Gwen pinches the bridge of her nose. "Right. Well, I've lived in the exact same place as long as I can remember. But everything's just a little wrong and I don't get it at all. They city's too noisy, a little too smelly, I apparently don't live where I did a couple days ago…" She throws her hands up a bit. "I should probably blame the supervillain. That seems safe."

*

Jessica stays where she is, peering towards Gwen for a long, silent moment. After some hesitation, however, she lets out a breath. Whoever this girl is, maybe she needs someone to commiserate with, so… why not.

"I'm a clone," Jessica says in a slightly odd voice, with an expression to match. She indicates the house nextdoor to Mary Jane's with an uptick of her chin. "Of, uh. His. He doesn't know, yet."

*

The mask does not hide the collection of expressions Gwen goes through. Eventually she swears, pulls off her mask, and the blonde girl chucks it. It doesn't fly far, since there isn't much weight. There's a long, silent pause while she stews, another swear, and a >thwip< when she webs the mask back into hand.

"Well this SUCKS," she announces, sitting crosslegged in place. Just wait til she realizes that was present tense. A pause, as her eyes land on Jessica again. "…sorry! I don't mean you specifically."

*

Once the mask's come off, Jessica just blinks and can't keep the name from tumbling incredulously from her mouth: "Gwen?" she asks, and after about half a heartbeat, she rushes to retrieve the mask where it's landed. If she knows Gwen's face, she won't be the only one in the neighborhood who might, sopleasetakebackyourmask. "No, no! I know, not me. Specifically."

*

Gwen is startled at the way she's identified, jumping slightly in place. "Um… yes?" she hazards. That is… no, this all just doesn't make sense. But it hasn't in *days*, so what's one mor thing, right?

*

"Sorry! Sorry, I just — " Jessica waves at her own head with one hand, moving over to offer the mask back to the blonde. "…I know what he knows. Some. Of what he knows. It's a… it's a whole thing," she explains helplessly. "I'm Jessica. Jess. Do you have somewhere to stay?" she asks, her brow furrowing.

*

Gwen is kneading her temples, and automatically reponds with "Gwen. Which… you already know. Of course." Nnnnngh. "You're talking like Peter isn't—" she breaks off, shakes her head. "Nevermind. No, apparently I don't." Since home isn't where it's supposed to be. "Too busy trying to figure out why everything's so… wrong. It was all fine til I headed home the other day."

*

"Probably safest to blame the supervillain," Jessica says in a very sympathetic voice, then offers Gwen her hand. "I've been staying at the Baxter Building. They were nice enough not to dismiss me as a crazy person when I banged on their windows," she says wryly. "They probably wouldn't mind if I brought you back, at least long enough to figure out what's going on."

*

Gwen wrinkles her nose. "I had lunch with Sue last week," she murmurs. "Something tells me it's not going to make any more sense than the rest of thise, though." She shrugs, reaches to pull her mask back on, and her hood back up. "Better plan than i havem though." A pause. "Um… do you… errr…" she mimes the web shooting motion.

*

By way of answer, Jessica just grins oddly and grabs that deep red bunch of fabric around her neck. What can easily be mistaken for a scarf is much more obviously a mask once she tugs it upward, complete with those big white eye markings. "We can compare notes once we're not standing at a bus stop," she says lightly, before she gestures sweepingly with one arm and sketches a bow. "After you?"

*

"Polite to ask, I guess," Gwen says, the first actual grin in her voice since things started getting weird for her. "It's still the big one in Midtown with a huge 4 on it, right?"

She doesn't wait for the response, flicking her wrist to fire off a line with the familiar thwip noise. She's clearly quite good with the technique involved, since she pulls on the line's elasticity to get her beginning upward arc, twirling to gather up the line for altitude before releasing and letting off the next one.

Whatever else is going on with her, she's got some style when it comes to slinging.

*

Jessica needs a running start and a strong leap off one of the neighbors' buildings — sorry, Mr. Abernathy! — but then there's a thwip from her fingertips, and she gives chase.

Where Gwen's webslinging is all style and practiced ease, Jessica's is obviously of the seat of one's pants, I'm making this up as I go along variety. She manages to keep up for all of that, more or less. It's just awkward.

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