savetheearth

[ The feeling of The Snack With The Hair holding onto her leg spurs Spidermom on. THE FUCK IS THAT. THE FUCK IS THIS. THE FUCK IS YOU.

She speeds up her ascent, using her webbing to help her navigate the crumbling cavern walls. As she reaches the hole she rams her head against it, digging away through the softer soil with her creepy-ass mandibles. Which are not to be confused with creepy ass-mandibles. She doesn't have those.

I'm so tired, guys.

The hole is now large enough for her to start squeezing through - part of her head and a foreleg are now tasting the sweet freedom of the Serkets' spacious yard. SORRY ALAN SHE'S OUTTIE YOU WILL NEVER ACCOMPLISH YOUR DREAMS ]

[And that's the cue for Alan to get going. He fires a hook right into the base of the leg Walter's hanging onto - it sinks into her gross squishy body with a schlorp - and flies over to it. It's not the firmest hold ever, but for now he's got a solid enough grip that he can hold out a hand for Walter.]

[ Walter grabs Alan's hand and hauls himself up as Spidermom rights herself; she's gotten out of the basement and is now free to prey upon the surface. The people on the street below are frozen, because what else do you do when confronted with a giant spider???

Walter stands and nearly falls over with every movement Spidermom makes. He gets back up and nods towards the front of her body, doing his best to signal Alan nonverbally before charging(/stumbling) his way to her "head".

He doesn't know if his sword is long enough but that isn't going to stop him from trying; it's being driven into her head as soon as he gets the opportunity. ]

[ Spidermom is distracted enough by all those lovely snackpeople enough that her head forms a relatively still and stable target. Walter's sword finds its mark and blue blood wells up at the wound and sprays finely from her maw as she lets out an unholy screech.

She's dying, certainly, but not dead. Twitching and staggering, she skitters painfully towards the passers-by - whether to eat them or just to run away isn't really clear. MIGHT WANNA TAKE OUT A LEG OR TWO, SHOUTY.

There's a faint glow of rainbow light from the recently-vacated hole, but that's. Not exactly going to draw much attention when there's a giant fucking spider bleeding everywhere. REASSURING IF ANYONE'S KEEPING AN EYE OPEN FOR IT THO ]

[Take out a leg, you say? CAN FUKKEN DO.

Seeing that Walter's got the beast's head, Alan draws his blades and focuses on immobilising it. The reinforced steel is designed to cut through titan flesh like butter, and it works just as effectively on spider legs.

After slicing off the leg he was already close to, he makes his way to the next one, using his 3DMG to avoid getting thrown off. It's still hard to stay on the thrashing spider's back though, and its pained twitching only gets worse as its legs are severed. After the second one, Alan has to sink both his hooks into the thing's back and concentrate all his energy just on keeping his balance.]

[ His stability takes another major hit as the spider starts stumbling. He's able to stay on top of her by clinging to his embedded sword. One particularly strong jerk sends him pivoting around it. His shoulders are killing him but he still hangs on.

He does manage to catch a glimpse of the rainbow light show, which is certainly a relief, but he needs to focus on the spider. The spider that is clearly dying, but slowly. And even though she's a complete monster, she doesn't need to suffer.

Alan's got the legs, which has probably saved a lot of the bystanders, and due to that she's completely lost her balance. He pulls the sword out and delivers a few more quick stabs, trying to end it once and for all. ]

[ The brutal combination of wounds finally takes its toll, and with a final rattling roar-hiss Spidermom's remaining legs give out, writhe briefly and curl up tight against her gross bloated body as she dies. There's a considerable amount of cerulean blood leaking from the corpse, and several of the bystanders back even further away in case the widening pool of it touches them. THAT SHIT COULD BE POISONOUS, OKAY.

Octavia, on the other hand, has no such concerns. She flutters her way through the hole, gives the body an impassive glance as she passes it, and lands close enough to the boys that she can be heard without raising her voice. ]

Soooooooo.

[ Time to casually lean against the corpse of her not-mom like it isn't even a thing. Yeah!!!!!!!! ]

What did I miss? Anything big?

[ SEE IT'S FUNNY IT'S A JOKE. LAUGH, ASSHOLES. LAUGH AND IGNORE THE FACT THAT ONE OF THE WITNESSES TO ALL THIS SEEMS TO BE A JOURNALIST AND IS NOW SNAPPING PICTURES. ]

[And now Octavia's getting the shit hugged out of her. Because who cares about dead giant spiders or journalists or anything like that when your girlfriend's back from the dead again?

Not Alan.]

[ If that blood was poisonous than Walter would be in trouble. He's got it splattered on his clothes, and as he hops off Spidermom's corpse and comes in to join the Yay Octavia Isn't Permadead Yet hug he slips in the puddle.

This, coupled with Octavia's lame joke and the adrenaline rush he's still on, is enough to make him laugh. It's a little strangled, but still. The laughter dies pretty quickly as reality catches up with him and he notices someone with an awfully big, fancy camera for a random bystander. ]

Oh, no... no, no, no. No. NO.

[ He gets up and backs away, slipping again as he tries to hide behind Alan and Octavia, using them as a shield. The journalist doesn't pursue him, though, and seems to be fixated on something to the side. And now the bystanders are freaking out, and. Oh. He's forgotten something important, hasn't he.

That something smashes into him and bowls him over. Goodnight, friends. Hope those tentacles didn't phase through you too; that won't feel too great. ]

[ Being hugged is sort of a surprise for a second. Octavia has reached the point where she isn't especially shaken by the whole dying thing any more, and she'd kind of figured the rest of Team Idiot would feel the same way.

Then again, what with the whole Alan's Mom Thing she can sort of get how death would still be a huge deal. HUGS ARE ALL GOOD. He obviously needs them, unlike her. Because she's tough and stoic and junk. Those sure are things that she is!

She follows Walter's slipventures with detached interest, which means she doesn't notice the gross-ass shadow tentacle things until they've phased halfway through her chest. To say it's unpleasant is like saying that her hair is a tad ruffled, and she can't quite keep herself from crying out.

WOW THERE GOES THE WHOLE COOL STOIC THING, FUCK YOU TENTACLES ]

[Alan was too focused on HUG TIMES to even really register Walter's little freakout, but then TENTACLES OUT OF NOWHERE WHAT THE SHIT.

Having weird shadowtentacles passing through him is weirdly reminiscent of the feeling when he shifts into a titan, but also completely different. He wouldn't really have any words to describe it, but then they wouldn't even be necessary. All that matters is that it's extremely unpleasant.]

[ SORRY GUYS. Or he would be, if he was capable of conscious thought. Kind of hard to accomplish while sprawled on the ground post-tentacles.

His horse is barreling towards the trio, startling the poor bystanders yet again because that is one huge animal. Agro skids to a stop and nudges Walter gently with her nose before standing upright and facing Alan and Octavia.

And snorting right in Octavia's face. ]

[ Ever seen someone looking like they want to slap a horse? IT IS SOMETHING TO BEHOLD. BEHOLD IT. BEHOLD IT NOW. ]

Do not fuck with me today, Twinklehooves. Wally and Alan both owe me half a dead echo-animal. Don't think I won't cash that shit in.

[ She dusts herself down a little, half expecting the place where the tentacles furtled their way through her to be covered in some sort of residue. It isn't! Which means she's presentable enough to talk to the press.

Which she does by turning towards the journalist and screeching at the top of her lungs, obviously. ]

CAN YOU NOT TAKE PICTURES WHILE HE'S UNCONSCIOUS IN A POOL OF SPIDERBLOOD, YOU INCONSIDERATE FUCK?

[ And more quietly, to Alan: ]

You should take your shirt off. To. Cover him with. Because dignity.

[ w o w ]

[Giving the journalist a semi-apologetic shrug.]

You heard the lady. This really isn't any of your business, so fuck off.

[And then he turns to hiss to Octavia:]

I am not taking my shirt off in public oh my god.

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oh my god I didn't realise it was my turn I HECKED UP

HDU

>8C

I derped again. FUCK UTOPIA GUYS. FUCK IT

whoops i derped too

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