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"Seriously, Manny. This is what, three times now?" The cheerful sing song voice is heard this late at night on the streets of Manhattan. It's out of place considering the time of night, not to mention the look of the scene about which it's making comment. It's just one of those lonely halos of light in the streets of the city. A sad lamp post with halogen bulb flickering and fizzling with the occasional dead moth that gets zapped and falls to the ground. But dangling underneath that lamp post is a rather burly looking man… hanging upside down by a healthy dose of webbing that binds him there.
Sloooowly, the man twists in the wind with the webs clinging to his black canvas pants and turtleneck. His black knit cap has fallen to the ground beneath him, resting in the gutter along with a big black sack of contraband that's webbed to the lamp post as well. It's only then, however, that the creator of those webs becomes apparent as he crawls into that halo of light, balancing upon the top of the lamp post and looking down at his most recent victim.
"Most cat burglars have left Midtown by this point, or at least have changed up their MO. What's the deal, buddy?"
"Aww, c'mon Spider-Man. Just call the cops already. Bad enough ya gotta nick me, do you gotta talk at me all the time?"
*
Westchester was the first sighting of the woman in all black. The woman who occasionally allowed a glimpse of her red hair to be seen before the dashing cloak that she wears fans with the gust of the wind as she turned and disappeared from sight. Some of the old crones who look outside of the window to see heroism at work spread small tales that the woman was flying. Another would say that she should be ashamed of herself for not being home with whatever husband or man that she takes care of to prepare his dinner.
Some would confuse her for a mother of four who needed to early rise in the daytime to get the children to school. One almost actually caught her walking Wags and Darla, but with a quick lie and a shake of her head, she immediately squashed that rumor and offered to bake brownies.
Too close to home, time to move.
Midtown is where she stalks. High upon the rooftops, exercising her right and freedom to leap from rooftop to rooftop. It was a practice. Telekinetics at play, pushing her with a gust of air when she felt she may not make it, landing upon the rooftops with a heavy thud and a roll to ease the harsh blowback upon her knees and a kip up to keep running. It was easy going. Smooth sailing. Jean Grey was the night. Jean Grey was going to be the hero that the city needs, but not the one it deserves…
..or something like that.
Which is when she happens upon a peculiar scene. The newly born self proclaimed hero of Midtown Just for the Night skids to a stop at the sound of the voices. While unlike others, she didn't have amplified hearing and could only guess as to what was going on, but a peer over the side of the building causes alarm.
Anyone who reads the news and watches television would know that Spider-Man is a hero. But it all depends on WHAT you watch. What you read. He could be a hero. He -could- be a menace. He -could- be shaking someone down, or he -could- have been stopping a robbery.
But those green eyes squint as she watches the display, her hand slowly reaching for an idle and well placed brick from the side of the roof.
And with careful aim, she heaves it up over her head, and launches it down towards the crimson avenger with as much gusto as a five year old tossing a ball.
"Unhand him!" She shouts, and cringes at her words. Eesh, gotta work on that.
*
The jangle of his spider-sense is actually a little surprising. Well, moreso than usual. It's a warning that snaps his attention to the side, up… and seemingly with no physical hint at all he's leaping straight up into the air, a splay-fingered hand catching the brick wall of the building and letting him flip upside down to cling to the surface and arrest the ensuing fall he would have experienced.
"Unhand him?" The voice that comes from the fellow in red and blue is a bit chagrined as he swings his head around looking for the source of that command in the feminine voice. "I don't have any hands on him. Sheesh." But then he sees her and suddenly he sits up a bit with his head crooking back, "Wait a sec…" His head tilts to the side. Flaring redhead, cute little squeaky voice, blazing eyes. But what's with the duds? Weird.
*
Her duds! They.. well. Anyone would assume she wasn't on the side of good with what she wears. A leathered outfit, fitted with the best padding that Hank could create down in the labs of the Institute. All black and fitted to the frame, cloak that of course hangs about, hood upon her head and a cats eye bandit mask that surrounds her eye. While she thinks that somewhere in there, there should be some sort of fashion sense with black heels, boots that lace up to half of her calf and gloves give her an almost sinister look. Of course, with a traditional X across her chest..
..It wasn't bad. But she doesn't look nice..
"You know what I mean.." She blurts out, finally standing to her full height, her hands folded into fists which bump against the bone in a heroic pose. "..cut him down or face my wrath, you…" Her eyes lift towards the sky, she was thinking… thinking.. what did they call this guy? "..You menace to society!"
Right. She was on the right path with her heroic talk. Right?!
"And surrender, it's time for you to face justice!"
*
For a time the last of her words sort of hang there in between them, but then Manny shatters the silence by uttering a loud GUFFAW that's strong enough it causes the cocoon he's trapped in to start swinging back and forth. "Ha ha! You heard her Spidey, cut me down! I was just walkin' my dog when you jumped me and tried to steal my wallet!"
To which Spider-Man points at the man, "You are not helping." But he spins back to face the redheaded vigilante and tells her, "Now just hold on a second Deadly Red, this is Manny Moorehead. He's got a rap sheet as long as my arm and this is like the third time I've caught him breaking into a third story brownstone."
"Complete lies!" Manny yells.
"Hush it, you." Spidey turns back to Jean and climbs further up the wall to get closer to her so they're not shouting all up and down the block, since really… lights are coming on in various windows at this point. "Look, lady. I just web them up, the cops come by, I leave. Here, I don't have his wallet or his cash. You're totally welcome to search me." As he reaches the rooftop near her, he climbs to his feet and spreads his arms out plaintively as if offering himself for searching, but really it's more of a gesture.
*
Jean stood nearly vindicated as she lifts a boot to slam down upon the edge of the building. If the moon was behind her, it would have shone just right to allow the glint of her green eyes to be seen, one of determination that shows that she is damned right and the red and blue menace had -better- listen to her -or else-! Even if there was a gust of wind.. that errant.. gust of..
Wait. That was her telekinetics playing with her cloak, making her majestic as fuck. (And oddly weird.)
Just listening to Manny allowed her to feel that she was on the right track. So much so, that a gloved hand lifts and points threateningly down towards Manny as if she were justified in her demands. "See! You need to let him go, right now! Or -else-!"
But the bickering back and forth between the two men gave her pause, for a moment she was well inclined to actually take a step back to look at the picture as a whole. Yes, Spider-Man was a menace according to the Bugle.. pages that were skimmed and tossed aside for placemats for puppy pee or.. wrapping paper for glass that need not be damaged..
As he climbs further up the wall, Jean takes a few steps back. While there was an intense need to rely on her telepathy to gleam the truth from the two men, she just wanted to see… to see if she could measure a man (or men) without the use of her gifts. What if she had them taken away from her in that very moment?
It was all worrisome, troublesome.. but even as he stands upon his feet and his arms out, Jean actually accepts the invitation as it were, both hands stretched out in a 'gimme' motion in preparations to pat him down to the fullest extent of.. the law? Or something!
*
"Really?" He asks her as she moves in to search him, but Spider-Man gives a small shrug and allows her to do her thing. He'll even turn his back to her as he does a small spin around letting her make sure he doesn't have an SMG taped to his back or anything.
And so she searches him. Hm, tight fabric, snaps back into place when drawn, aerated with little holes. His belt has some stuff in it, but nothing big. Little discs of some sort? Definitely no wallet. Nope, nothing under his arms, along his shoulders. Though at the end of his arms he's got those web-shooters which he cautions her with, "Careful." Though he does make sure to key on the safety in case she gets more handsy than expected.
*
"Can't be too sure.." Jean mutters beneath her breath. Patting him down was like patting down a wall. In some spots there was really no give, no lumps that formed a wallet or anything that seemed like it was stolen. There was a little bit of temptation to look through the pockets, but sadly.. she backs away with her own hands raised. "Okay.." So the masked menace was tellingthe truth, but she still was wary of his presence.
"Then.. I guess we wait. At least for the cops to come." She states, her hands dropping down to her sides again to lean over the wall to yell down, "You're going to jail, bub!" Logan-speak much? "And I hope they hold you for an extra three years for lying!"
Taking a few steps back, her hand reaches up to pull the hood away from her head, then slowly crouches upon the ground, her elbows propped upon her thighs as she places a hand upon her forehead. She was never going to get the hang of this heroing, not like she was. "I'm sorry." She finally states. "That was bad form. I mean, the papers paint you as a bad guy and you probably could still be that, but.. I shouldn't have judged."
*
"Hey, it's ok. I know my rep," Spidey seems actually at ease with the matter, though he does scoot back and away from her, crawling back to the rooftop's edge and dropping into a crouch on the edge of it so he can keep an eye on Manny in his slowly swirling dangling predicament. The wallcrawler does glance sidelong at her, however, and adds. "As for Manny, he'll probably be out in a month or so. He has a cousin who's a lawyer that works for Fisk. The guy is a real ambulance chaser."
"You leave my cousin out of this!" Manny hollars back up from his point of captivity, the roar of his voice causing him to twist in the wind the other way now.
"Sorry, Manny." Spider-Man answers, but then gives Jean a sort of half-shrug as if to say, 'what can you do about it?' But he waves a hand. "I should let you know that I plan to wait until the cops show up, but as soon as they do I tend to beat feet since they and I don't entirely get along too well. I think it's the whole mask thing." He gives her another shrug before rolling back to his feet.
"So. Don't take this the wrong way. You're sorta new to this whole gig, aren't you?"
*
"Wilson Fisk?" Jean asks, her brows shooting up. It wasn't that she thought Wilson Fisk was a bad guy, but the idea of a super-powered police force gave her bad feelings, and the need to protect the children even more. "Well, I guess that says something." Jean takes the moment to glance around, then takes a step aside to move to her own spot upon the roof. With one foot planted upon the edge of the rooftop, she glances down to watch Manny dangle with a little bit of mirth. And for a moment, she thought about putting the poor guy to sleep.
"It's not the mask thing." Jean states. Well, it could be. "I think it's just the way that the papers talk about you. Look at Fantastic Four? They help.." But don't wear costumes. "..maybe you just need some good publicity."
With that said, his question takes her a little off guard, her face dropping into a bit of neutrality as her hand lifts to waffle a bit within the air. "There used to be some of us. At least two of us." She states, her own shoulders shrugging in that 'what could you do?' manner. "But.. I'm going at it alone. I want to say it's my thousandth time.. but.. its really my first." So yeah, she's new. In a sense. Each instant ended up horribly bad.
*
"I don't know that many other Fisks, do you?" Spider-Man comments as he turns away from her to look down at the dangling burglar, but then lifts his head as he sees the first of the police vehicles rolling around the corner a few blocks down, their red and blue lights casting the buildings around them in those bright shades as each cruiser advances.
"Well, see I sorta hang out now and then with the FF. I think it's mainly they're a family sort of deal, and also that they have public identities." He rubs the back of his neck thoughtfully as he pulls away from the edge of the building, just in case some beat-walking flat foot decides to take a shot at him. "Could also be nobody likes spiders, there's that. Hey, if I had my druthers I'd have been bitten by a radioactive kitten or puppy or something. Maybe a penguin."
He walks away from the edge of the building, lifting his head as he looks around while considering possible exit angles. He stops and turns to look at her over his shoulder, "Well, your heart's in the right place at least. Maybe. Not like I'm a hugely great judge of character lately. Do you just run around in a costume or do you have powers and things?"
*
"There's a lady Fisk." Jean points out, since he didn't exactly say Wilson. This causes her to grin as she leans back and away, seeing the cruisers from the distance just as he had.. but Jean? She wasn't going to hide outright. In fact, her eyes close for just a moment, picking out the little tiny voices below.. the little fires that line the street that generally are the minds of the people below suddenly clouded to their presence.
Perhaps Spider-Man could tell that something happened, perhaps not.
But hearing that he actually hung around the FF had her shaking her head briefly. The newspapers ripped poor Spider-Man's rep asunder and it possibly was no getting back from that travesty. "Well yeah, they do.. but.. I don't know." She shrugs her shoulders, finally stepping out of view and further upon the rooftop. A rock was kicked across, her hands searching along her hips for pockets and finding none. Damn. "I don't think you'd be able to do much as a puppy or a kitten, just be cute. Trust me, puppies are like the worlds medicine but I don't think I'd want one protecting me at night." She grins a little, her gloved hand now reaching up to rub a little at her scalp.
"I.. got powers. Yeah. I guess you can call me a mutant. So, I do both. Run around in costume and shoot firebolts from my hands." Her hands quickly lift as if she were about to attack, then settles for a wriggle of her fingers. "Boogity-boo."
*
"Is there?" Spidey looks at her cock-eyed and askance as if he hadn't really thought about it. "I mean, I suppose there would have to be since he's supposedly married. But who would marry that psychotic ham hock of a man? I dunno." He rubs at his eyes for a moment, as if trying to clear them then shaking his head. "Ugh, just had a horrible image in my head."
But then she continues on about her powers and he looks past her, seeing that the cop cars have already made it there under Manny.
From below the voice of the burglar hollars, "Hey officer, fancy meeting you here this evening. You'll never believe what happened."
To which the cop responds, "Save it, buddy. I'll go get the bolt cutters and you can explain it on the ride down to the precinct."
Spidey looks back to her, "See, I can tell you're a noob. You don't have all hope and joy crushed out of you." A solemn nod is given as he starts to the opposite side of the rooftop. "But anyways, nice meeting you redly dedly."