MHA #10, Saturday evening
"Hang in there, you'll be just fine," the guy who Ben thought looked just a little bit like him said.
"You don't know that," Ben responded. "You've never had a headache before.
"No, but I've been on your face when you've had a headache," the guy said. Ben gave him a Look. "That sounded a lot worse than I meant it. I'm just a mask, you can't expect me to catch double entendres before I make them."
"No, I guess that would be kind of unfair," Ben said.
He had been dealing with headaches the past couple days. Ever since he met the younger Peter, Ben had been fighting against his own mind. Little things here and there. Leaving himself notes that would keep him from forgetting things that would lead him back to New York. Scrier might have the advantage with these implanted instructions, but Ben was slowly leveling the playing field. He knew he could beat them if he went about it the right way.
And then he started looking at the price of nearby used motorcycles. He was going to need transportation to New York, and he had a long history with motorcycles. Unfortunately, actively preparing to return seemed to cross a line, resulting in some psychic whiplash.
And today, his Spider-Man mask turned into a guy. That wasn't helping his headache, no matter how much the guy tried to help.
"I could make you some of Aunt May's famous wheatcakes," the mask offered.
"... You don't know how to cook," Ben pointed out.
"How tough can it be?" the mask asked.
"It's called the Kitchen of Doom," Ben said. "You'll probably set the building on fire, and my head hurts too much to save everyone."
"Oh," the mask said with a sigh. "Should I bring you more aspirin? You don't seem to be feeling any better."
Ben sighed. He couldn't hate the talkative mask too much. He was only trying to be helpful, after all...
[OOC: Open to visitors, why not?]
"You don't know that," Ben responded. "You've never had a headache before.
"No, but I've been on your face when you've had a headache," the guy said. Ben gave him a Look. "That sounded a lot worse than I meant it. I'm just a mask, you can't expect me to catch double entendres before I make them."
"No, I guess that would be kind of unfair," Ben said.
He had been dealing with headaches the past couple days. Ever since he met the younger Peter, Ben had been fighting against his own mind. Little things here and there. Leaving himself notes that would keep him from forgetting things that would lead him back to New York. Scrier might have the advantage with these implanted instructions, but Ben was slowly leveling the playing field. He knew he could beat them if he went about it the right way.
And then he started looking at the price of nearby used motorcycles. He was going to need transportation to New York, and he had a long history with motorcycles. Unfortunately, actively preparing to return seemed to cross a line, resulting in some psychic whiplash.
And today, his Spider-Man mask turned into a guy. That wasn't helping his headache, no matter how much the guy tried to help.
"I could make you some of Aunt May's famous wheatcakes," the mask offered.
"... You don't know how to cook," Ben pointed out.
"How tough can it be?" the mask asked.
"It's called the Kitchen of Doom," Ben said. "You'll probably set the building on fire, and my head hurts too much to save everyone."
"Oh," the mask said with a sigh. "Should I bring you more aspirin? You don't seem to be feeling any better."
Ben sighed. He couldn't hate the talkative mask too much. He was only trying to be helpful, after all...
[OOC: Open to visitors, why not?]