|
  |
"Parker!" The loud raucous voice of J. Jonah Jameson rails across the news room, typewriters clacking and clattering is easily drowned out by the roar of the Editor for the Daily Bugle. A thick pall of smoke hangs low from the ceiling and the ash trays on various desk corners are being cleaned by a janitor walking around with a trash can on rollers. He'll grab a tray, flip it over, and roll on as if he were invisible to the myriad of reporters… and for all they care he is.
"What is this?!" Jameson steps through the windowed door to his office, the handle banging on the wall as he gestures with a mass of photos. "Spider-Man? Spider-Man's yesterday's news! You see that thing in Central Park? A gate to hell and you get me pictures of a freak in his pyjamas! I should fire you!"
"But Mr. Jameson, you told me you wanted pictures of Spider-Man…"
"What? You got wax in your ears? This morning's meeting. It's all magic magic magic. Hell hell hell!"
Robbie leans in from the door jam, "He wasn't at the meeting JJ."
"What? Where were you!"
"Uhh… ESU… like every monday."
"Whatever. Next time, do what I tell you."
"Uhhh, right chief."
Jameson rounds, ashing his cigar into a recently emptied tray and then comments to the janitor. "Roy." A greeting for the man at least.
*
Eddie doesn't really think he's a bad person: he's ambitious, sure, and maybe he's not above cutting corners, but he's not a bad person. He doesn't really hate people and doesn't really hurt anyone, not really, and therefore, he's not a bad person. But man, he sits at his desk and evesdropes on Jameson's rant— then again with a boss that loud does it even count as evesdropping?— and it makes Eddie's heart swell with pleasure.
That doesn't make him a bad person. To prove it, he looks up to Peter and gives a companionable smile and a nod, "Hey, Parker. Don't let Jameson get you down. Your Spider-Man shots are great." The envy isn't quite thick in his voice, not yet, not then and not there. "It's just a crazy time."
*
It's only when Jameson's stormed off back to his office, that door slamming behind him, that Peter turns back and gives Eddie one of those pained smiles that hides the occasional terror of potential unemployment. But then he takes a breath and grins, "Thanks, Eddie." He steps over and pulls a chair out from the bullpen reporter seats and drags it over towards the other fellow's desk. Not that Peter has one of his own, he sort of just has this place near the mail boxes where he puts down his paper bag lunch, but that's about it.
"Sometimes I get the feeling I'd have to be psychic to keep up around here." He looks around and shakes his head, then smiles back at the other Bugler. "How do you do it? What's your secret? You got a bug in his office, don't you?" His smile shifts to a bit of a grin as he grabs his backpack off his back and unzips it.
*
Eddie can't help but blink a moment, as Peter says something impossible: it sounds almost like he thinks Eddie's doing better then him. That can't be! Shaking his head slowly, and somehow managing to nod at the same time, he tries on his most wise voice, "I'm not sure anyone needs a bug in his office, really: they can hear him two floors down, I think. But… hey." He shrugs, "I just keep my head down and do my best— but really, you've had some serious scoops. How is it that you managed to get pictures of Spider-Man?" Oh the envy. "I've never even seen him and I've looked. Speaking of bugs in offices, what's your secret, Parker? Its uncanny how you keep getting the scoop."
*
Pulling out his camera from its container in his backpack, Peter sets it down on the edge of the table as he starts to go through the routine to give it a check and a quick clean, small cloth in his hand set to wipe at the lens. "I suppose, yeah. Just no matter how good it seems you know…" He shoots a glance in Jameson's office, and yeah… sometimes there's no pleasing the guy.
But Spidey looks back and crinkles his nose as he lifts one hand, "I don't know. Luck at first? Then I just started going around the same sort of areas around the same sort of nights. I think he might have a routine? Like I don't know, a patrol? But then I think he got savvy and changed it up."
Peter blows a bit on the lens then wipes it and looks across the way towards the window. "I was going to grab a bite to eat but… maybe we should head to Central Park and see if there's anything we can get. You wanna come?"
*
Peter has disconnected.
*
Peter has connected.
*
"That's just Jameson. The best possible outcome is he's happy with you for five minutes then mad at you for the rest of the day, there's really nothing you can do about it." In this, at least, Eddie can find Peter companionable: they both have been yelled at often enough, at least.
He does wrinkle his nose a moment, the idea of going with Parker seeming like it's not a good strategy to get one up on him— but not really thinking of a good reason not to, he finally nods. "Yeah, sure." He reaches down and grabs up his backpack, glancing inside and checking on his camera even as he pushes off the chair and rises. "What's the worst that can happen? A … vampire eats us or a demon does. That's the career."
*
"So crazy to think that that's like… a part of life now." Peter rolls to his feet as he stuffs the camera back into its place, then the zipper whirs as he closes the pack. Slinging it over one shoulder he stuffs his hands into the pockets of his jacket and starts to weave his way between all the hustle and bustle of the news room, dodging reporters rolling about in their chairs and the occasional hurled cigarette butt.
"I mean… my aunt actually told me to watch out for ghosts the other day. Ghosts." Peter shakes his head and gets to the door that leads out of the bullpen and into the office foyer/hallway. He starts down towards the elevators as he walks. "And I had to take it seriously as a sort of credible threat."
Peter shakes his head and hits the lobby button on the side of the elevator doors, then looks back towards Eddie. "That, and the Fantastic Four, and Spider-Man."
The elevator dings and he steps inside, adding lightly. "Not sure what to make of it all."
*
"I'm not sure what to even think about /them/, not really. They're so powerful: what does it mean for society when people have abilties that aren't just strong, but superhuman? Sure, I guess Spider-Man.." Eddie's tone is a bit grudging here, "..seems to be trying to use it for good, but he's taking the law into his own hands. What if someone else didn't use their power that way? What's it mean for democracy and America when a subset of people are like unto gods?"
He shakes his head slowly, waiting as the elevator, one hand slipping into his pocket. "I swear I've been working out more since supermen started showing up." Which is saying something, since Eddie is not the nerdy reporter type. "How's a guy to compete with that sort of thing? I don't know. They say 'power corrupts', and even if these people mean well, can they be trusted with that much power? Could anyone do anything about it if one turned out bad?" Of course, these people are offing vampires and demons, but still.
*
"Well," Peter looks askance towards Eddie even as the two begin the ride down in the elevator. He takes a deep breath, furrowing his brow as he considers his reflection in the stainless steel wall of the conveyance. "That's the thing, right? I mean this whole thing… all of these weird things happening. It sort of makes you…" He tilts his head to the side, then adds. "Makes you reevaluate your place in everything?"
He grins a bit sheepishly and hits the lobby button again just to make sure. "Like if something like that happened to me I'd hope I'd do the right thing." He lifts a hand to rub at the back of his neck, a distant frown touching his features before he adds, but then he smiles ruefully and looks back to the other Bugler. "Then again if I ever did get some powers it'd probably be something lame, like ability to fly with my ears or something."
*
For his part, Eddie has to nod his head, on this matter in some agreement with Peter. "It's making me reevaluate my place in everything and the place of everything else, too. The police enforce the law with the threat of force: but a gun is nothing compared to that… giant stone man. Is even the military any use? They're a law into themselves, and I'm not entirely sure how society's going to *work* with them here."
He has to chuckle, then, "I'm not even sure I'd want powers, b ut if I did get some, I'd go for invisibility. And not at all for pervy reasons. Imagine the scoops I could get if my subjects couldn't even see me there? Everyone would know my name." Ambition! Eddie's got a lot of that.
*
"Aww c'mon, Eddie." Peter steps out of the elevator after it gives a hearty 'BING!' and the double doors slide open. "I mean sure you'd get a lot of scoops and all. But that'd be sorta illegal. And even JJ probably wouldn't cross that line."
The other photographer grins and starts to wend his way through the hustle and bustle of the lobby in the Bugle's building, walking towards the double front doors. "Though hey, the Tattler still pays pretty good." Peter offers as a way to make light of it, then adds with a raised hand. "Not that I'd work with those guys. They can be real jerks." As he says that slight epithet, the young man seems to really mean it, even though 'jerk' isn't exactly what one would call strong language.
"C'mon, if we hustle we can get there during shift change, might be able to get closer in the chaos."