Chapter Text
It was his hat that he noticed first. For an entire society built around that fact that there are hundreds if not thousands of Spider-beings. There were surprisingly very few that wore hats. Patrick O’Hare could probably count on his fingers the number of hats he’s seen, not including his own.
This one was the closes to his own hat that he’s ever seen. For a brief moment he was excited that there was another rural based Spider-Man just like him. It seemed like a majority of Spiders were doomed to be city slickers.
So, as he pushed through the crowd to get a closer look. He was a little disappointed to find that it was a tall black and white Spider-Man, wearing a long black coat that looked similar to a duster. Now he could see that the style of the hat was wrong. This one was from a different time period it seemed.
The other Spider-Man glanced his way at Patrick drew near. So, Patrick tipped his hat in a friendly way toward the stranger. “Howdy.”
“Morning,” The stranger grunts back, tipping his own hat in Patrick’s direction. “You’re the fella that rides the horse, right?”
Patrick laughs at that, “Yep that’ll be me.”
The other Spider-Man looks around, obviously trying to spot his trusty steed. However, Patrick left Widow at home this time. She needed some well-deserved rest and feed.
“I didn’t bring her along today. Was jus here for a quick visit,” Patrick explains. Mostly to explain to Miguel that he wasn’t going to be available for a good chunk of time as he sorted things out in his own world. He was in need of some cash, so off he was going to be doing odd jobs here an there.
Spider-Man nods his understanding, “I don’t believe I caught your name?”
Patrick holds out a gloved hand, “Name’s Patrick O’Hara.”
The Spider-Man clasps it with his own gloved hand. The grip is nice and firm. “Peter Parker,” he says wryly, “though most people tend to call me Noir.”
“Noir?” Patrick asks, “I don’t think I’m familiar with that word.”
“It means ‘black’ in French,” ‘Noir’ explains, “I’ve been told I resemble old black and white movies from my time period.”
“What time period are we talkin here?” Patrick asks. He was vaguely familiar with the concept of movies. They were the moving pictures. One of the Spider-Men had tried explaining it to him.
“In my universe it’s 1930s,” Noir says a little warily.
“Shucks 1930s!” Patrick exclaims, “in my world it’s only the 1870s!”
Despite wearing the mask, Patrick can tell that the other Spider-Man appears shocked. Then Noir seems to unfreeze. “Nice to meet another Spider from the past. Though I’m afraid I need to get going. Got some Nazi’s to punch.”
Patrick wasn’t sure what a Nazi was, but from the tone in Noir’s voice. It sounded like they deserved one.
“Welp I’ll let you get going. Throw in a extra punch or two in for me,” Patrick tips his hat again before sauntering off down the halls of the society.