This was mostly inspired by the current Spider-verse storyline and partly these pictures...
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This was mostly inspired by the current Spider-verse storyline and partly these pictures:
The idea: Seeing all the edge of the Spiderverse stuff makes me think about doing short one-shots of just a bunch of Spideys hanging out, no crisis, just finding out about one another and snarking at each other.
There should also be hitting upon done to and by the multitude of female Spidey's, with a lot of the flirting boiling down to a delicate way of figuring out: "Are you me from another reality or am I somehow related to you in some way?"
Which set off a couple of short snips over on SB, so I figured it deserved its own thread. This first post will mostly serve as a framing device before we get to the real meat of the story, which would be a multitude of spider interactions:
- - -
Peter took a sip of his soda. It was sweet and bubbly and fought its way down, but it was better than not drinking it. Or choking down one of the macro-biotic nutrient smoothies Aaron had made.
No one else was having that stuff, not even Porker was willing to touch it.
The large room wasn't exactly packed, but there were a lot of people. A lot more hadn't made it, but these were the survivors. Refugees now, really.
Someone had hunted those who'd worn the symbol of the Spider across realities. Hopping from world to world, timeline to timeline. Killing Spider-men, Spider-women, Spider-kids, Spider-cats, Spider-dogs, Spider-apes. What have you. A distressingly large number of those had been Peter Parkers.
It had taken a sort-of Peter Parker... or more precisely, a Peter Parker whose mind had been taken over by an old enemy, Otto Octavius to start the ball rolling on getting them to fight back. It took a certain kind of mind to decide to put together a Spider-Army to fight back against those who'd hunted them.
Now the Spider-Army had fought its war and won. Except it wasn't the sort of war you could come home from.
There were a lot of them. Some of him... them... were brilliant and powerful. Terrifyingly so in some cases. Peter glanced over to the glass double doors that led to the balcony where a Peter Parker with the power of Captain Universe and another with the power of the Phoenix were having some sort of friendly argument over their beers.
They'd figured out a way to catch the hunters in a trap. Thicken the barriers of reality. Trap them in between. The only problem was, that it had also trapped all of them here. This one, singular reality was now home to a suddenly much expanded Spider-family.
Most of them had adapted surprisingly well. In a few cases, homesickness had been common. Worries about loved ones, but those same Spider-geniuses had come to the rescue with limited network connections to alternate worlds to allow video chat and e-mail at specific and limited time frames. It had helped, but adjustments to the new world, and in some cases new names and new identities, had been difficult for some. A lot of the survivors hadn't been Peter Parker and they kept their own names. Except a lot of them had been Peter Parker and for the sake of everyone's sanity names had to be changed, if only to keep track of who they were speaking of.
Otto for instance had been quick to discard the name of Peter Parker and was now calling himself Otto Parker.
Peter spotted him lounging in surprising ease with the two other architects of their current living situation. Aaron Aikman wasn't a Peter Parker. He was a molecular biologist specializing in genetic splicing and manipulation who had given himself Spider-powers. Intentionally. He'd undergone an insanely dangerous procedure on the off-chance of giving himself superhuman abilities because he felt he had to protect his version of New York. The man had mild a tendency towards smug, self-congratulatory arrogance, but by the same token he really was a genius. It was odd with an ego like his, that he got along so well with Otto, but it seemed a mutual love of science and the opportunity to work with and debate a peer seemed to offset any potential ill feeling between the two.
The third member of what some had taken to calling the Wolf-Spiders (a convoluted 'Wolf of Wall Street' joke that its originator had found himself having to constantly explain to those who hadn't seen the movie), was Miguel O'hara. He was a scientist from almost 90 years in the future who had gained spider-abilities as a result of a botched murder attempt. From there he'd ended up becoming CEO of a major corporation. He could keep up intellectually with Aaron and Otto, but he had an overview of a ton of technologies that hadn't yet been developed and a general idea of tech trends for practically the next century, which meant that the little money Peter had on hand, had been turned by the three into a series of investments and tech patents that would see them all living comfortably well-off for the forseeable future.
It had been that money which had bought the building that most of the Spider-folk were living in now.
Technically the downtown Manhattan building was owned by Parker Enterprises, but in practice the building was mostly an apartment complex for the various Spider-folks to live in. Only the top few floors were listed as Parker Enterprises research facilities, otherwise known as Otto and Aaron's lab space.
They needed the space.
There were a lot of them.
Worse, a lot of their number were underage and so living quarters had needed to be assigned with more responsible adults having to stay with the younger ones. Mostly they'd been able to keep it down to one or two kids per adult, but some had no patience with children. Period.
No one had even suggested putting any of the Spider-kids with any of the Wolf-Spiders or the cosmic types.
Peter turned his attention to the kids and noted that most of them were enjoying themselves on the open floor.
Four people in particular were in one end of the room, playing a surprisingly good rendition of Metallica's Creeping Death. Behind the impromptu band, someone had webbed up the wall in angular letters spelling out 'Spyder'.
Obviously the 'Y' made it metal.
The bassist was a spiky-vested, mohawked and pierced sixteen year old bleach-blonde punk version of Peter Parker that had ended up with the nickname 'Spike'.
On the drums was a pretty eighteen year old blonde Gwen Stacy.
Doing the vocals was a sixteen year-old Mary Jane Watson, who preferred to be called 'Mary', a pretty redhead with a very short haircut.
The guitarist was a surprise for Peter. Cindy Moon, who had been calling herself Silk was playing with surprising brilliance, but the more Peter thought about it, the more sense it made. She had been trapped in a bunker for the past 13 years. Who knew what other skills she'd picked up while she'd been bored out of her mind trapped down there? She'd gotten along surprisingly well with the younger Spiders, but she was also practically the same age as they were emotionally, given how she'd been isolated for so long. It also didn't hurt that while she was technically the same age as Peter, she looked like she could pass for a girl in her late teens.
Dancing or just watching them play were the other young Spiders. Pavitr Prabhakar, a Spiderman who had gained his powers from a Yogi in Mumbai, swayed uncertainly to the music and was occasionally chatting with Peni Parker, a much smaller fourteen year old girl who had a red spider in her black hair. On the cleared dance floor, May Parker, Spidergirl from roughly ten years in an alternate future, who didn't actually exist in this timeline, seemed to be enjoying herself dancing and had persuaded Anya Corazon, who was the current day Spidergirl from this timeline, to dance with her. Miles Morales, a sixteen year old Spiderman from world where their Peter Parker had died before he'd hit the age of twenty, was trying to dance with more enthusiasm than skill, in the company of an amused fifteen year old half-asian version of Peter Parker who had claimed to be a ninja.
Elsewhere, other Spider-folk mingled and talked. Not just the ones from various realities, but the local Spider people and those who knew about all the weirdness. Peter spotted his roommate and kind of-sort of ex, Anna Maria Marconi in a conversation with a beefy blonde British guy whose name Peter couldn't remember and an anthropomorphic pig version of himself, with the absurd name of Peter Porker.
Peter sighed and settled back into the couch, just letting the music and the noise wash over him. Way too many new people. It was going to be tough enough trying to know everyone, or at least the part of their group that had opted to stay in New York. A few were moving to Dallas to keep Kaine, one of Peter's clones and currently the Scarlet Spider, company. A few more were moving to California to live and work with Julia Carpenter, formerly a Spider-woman, but now the current Madame Webb.
"Kind of a mess, huh?" A familiar voice asked at his side.
Peter opened his eyes and looked up at his... brother? Cousin? Technically he was a clone, so genetically they might as well be twins, but this one had been from another reality. So who knew what really counted.
"Kind of." Peter agreed. "How's you holding up?"
"Well, other than me being dead in this reality, instead of you," Ben replied, "Surprisingly well."
"I think most of us adjusted pretty well."
Ben nodded sagely, "How are you holding up?"
Peter shrugged, "Still a little weirded out seeing so many people with my face. And seeing a bunch of kids with my face."
"Especially the ones who are technically your kid and aren't at the same time."
Peter gestured to the dancing crowd and the playing band. "I almost don't think we were ever quite that young."
"I technically wasn't ever that young." Ben snorted in amusement, "You sound like an old man."
"I'm watching a fifteen year old version of myself trying to cabbage patch badly. I'm allowed to feel a little old." Peter chuckled.
"I think we're both entitled. We're both going to be playing parent for a while. Peni's moving in with you, Anna Maria and Silk, right?"
"Yes." Peter asked, "Who's staying with you?"
Ben said, pointing, "May for sure. Maybe Ninja-Peter. He hasn't decided yet if he wants to stay with me or with Iron Fist-Peter."
"I thought we were calling Iron Fist-Peter 'Bruce'?" Peter quipped.
"It was that or 'Jackie', I think he settled on 'Bruce', though." Ben chuckled. "Ninja-Peter wants us to call him Ryu."
"Is New York really going to be able to take this much Spider?"
"You had everyone in Manhattan given Spider-powers not too long ago. I think folks will deal." Ben replied.
"Are we going to be able to deal?" Peter asked.
"Gotta try, right?" Ben shrugged and raised own soda can.
Peter clinked his against it.
- - -
Pete and Ben looked up from their conversation, because of the blaze of light that was moving towards them.
Flickering, heatless flame curled all over the Spider-Phoenix's torso as he and the Captain Universe weilding Spiderman came over.
"Hey, great party, Peter," Captain Universe said, his eyes were faintly glowing and disturbingly blank white. "But Willy and I were talking--"
"Willy?" Peter blinked in confusion.
Phoenix Spidey raised his hand, "Me. Because of the fire?"
"This is going to be another of those obscure chain of logical tangents type of name isn't it?" Ben chuckled.
"Not for Wile E. Coyote, I hope?" Peter chimed in.
The Phoenix, now Willy, laughed. "No, no."
"I came up with it," Captain Universe said. "Because of the fire."
Ben and Peter traded confused looks.
Wiley counted off on his fingers, "Fire, made us think of things bursting into fire, like white phosphorous."
"Which is called Willy Pete." Captain Universe gestured grandly, "Tah-dah!"
"... ooookay." Peter said slowly. "I guess we get it. How about you?"
"I was fine with Cap'n Pete, really." Captain Universe replied with a grin.
"He's Jack now." Willy chuckled. "Cap'n Pete, Cap'n Jack."
"That works," Peter agreed.
"I really wanted to be called Awesome McCoolname, but Willy said it would be silly," Captain Jack quipped.
Peter grinned, "Anyway, sorry for the interruption."
"No problem, mere mortal Peter," Jack said grandly, "In any case, Willy and I decided we ought to get going."
"It's early yet," Ben said pulling a cellphone out to check the time.
Peter shrugged, "Well, not all of us can be party animals like we are." He flicked his glance down to their decidedly non-alcoholic sodas and pointedly not commented on the fact that they'd just been sitting and talking for the majority of the party.
Ben rolled his eyes.
"So you guys had rooms picked out yet?" Peter asked.
"That's what we meant, actually," Willy cut in. "When we said we would 'get going' we meant off-world."
Peter blinked in surprise, "Really?"
"New universe. Lots of changes here on Earth, made us wonder how many other changes there were out there," He gestured above his head, "We also talked with the non-human Spidey's. A lot of them wanted to come with us." Jack explained. "It's hard enough trying to adapt being the only ones of their species here. Out there, they've got a chance to meet something remotely compatible."
"We're also taking at least one sort of human one with us." Willy said carefully, pointing a finger up at the ceiling.
Above them was someone in a blood-red skin-tight outfit with black veins at the neck and shoulders that had the definite look of a symbiote. He was crouched upside down devouring a turkey leg with a sort of vicious and terrifying intensity using jaggedly sharp six inch long teeth.
"We figured it would be safer for everyone involved if we kept Carnage Peter with us." Willy added unnecessarily.
"Probably not so much for Porker," Jack admitted, glancing over to the short, porcine humanoid.
"Well, I'm sorry to see you guys go," Peter replied, getting to his feet to shake hands with the two. Ben did as well.
"New York's crowded with enough Peter Parkers," Jack chuckled. "But don't worry, we'll keep in touch."
- - -
The idea: Seeing all the edge of the Spiderverse stuff makes me think about doing short one-shots of just a bunch of Spideys hanging out, no crisis, just finding out about one another and snarking at each other.
There should also be hitting upon done to and by the multitude of female Spidey's, with a lot of the flirting boiling down to a delicate way of figuring out: "Are you me from another reality or am I somehow related to you in some way?"
Which set off a couple of short snips over on SB, so I figured it deserved its own thread. This first post will mostly serve as a framing device before we get to the real meat of the story, which would be a multitude of spider interactions:
- - -
Peter took a sip of his soda. It was sweet and bubbly and fought its way down, but it was better than not drinking it. Or choking down one of the macro-biotic nutrient smoothies Aaron had made.
No one else was having that stuff, not even Porker was willing to touch it.
The large room wasn't exactly packed, but there were a lot of people. A lot more hadn't made it, but these were the survivors. Refugees now, really.
Someone had hunted those who'd worn the symbol of the Spider across realities. Hopping from world to world, timeline to timeline. Killing Spider-men, Spider-women, Spider-kids, Spider-cats, Spider-dogs, Spider-apes. What have you. A distressingly large number of those had been Peter Parkers.
It had taken a sort-of Peter Parker... or more precisely, a Peter Parker whose mind had been taken over by an old enemy, Otto Octavius to start the ball rolling on getting them to fight back. It took a certain kind of mind to decide to put together a Spider-Army to fight back against those who'd hunted them.
Now the Spider-Army had fought its war and won. Except it wasn't the sort of war you could come home from.
There were a lot of them. Some of him... them... were brilliant and powerful. Terrifyingly so in some cases. Peter glanced over to the glass double doors that led to the balcony where a Peter Parker with the power of Captain Universe and another with the power of the Phoenix were having some sort of friendly argument over their beers.
They'd figured out a way to catch the hunters in a trap. Thicken the barriers of reality. Trap them in between. The only problem was, that it had also trapped all of them here. This one, singular reality was now home to a suddenly much expanded Spider-family.
Most of them had adapted surprisingly well. In a few cases, homesickness had been common. Worries about loved ones, but those same Spider-geniuses had come to the rescue with limited network connections to alternate worlds to allow video chat and e-mail at specific and limited time frames. It had helped, but adjustments to the new world, and in some cases new names and new identities, had been difficult for some. A lot of the survivors hadn't been Peter Parker and they kept their own names. Except a lot of them had been Peter Parker and for the sake of everyone's sanity names had to be changed, if only to keep track of who they were speaking of.
Otto for instance had been quick to discard the name of Peter Parker and was now calling himself Otto Parker.
Peter spotted him lounging in surprising ease with the two other architects of their current living situation. Aaron Aikman wasn't a Peter Parker. He was a molecular biologist specializing in genetic splicing and manipulation who had given himself Spider-powers. Intentionally. He'd undergone an insanely dangerous procedure on the off-chance of giving himself superhuman abilities because he felt he had to protect his version of New York. The man had mild a tendency towards smug, self-congratulatory arrogance, but by the same token he really was a genius. It was odd with an ego like his, that he got along so well with Otto, but it seemed a mutual love of science and the opportunity to work with and debate a peer seemed to offset any potential ill feeling between the two.
The third member of what some had taken to calling the Wolf-Spiders (a convoluted 'Wolf of Wall Street' joke that its originator had found himself having to constantly explain to those who hadn't seen the movie), was Miguel O'hara. He was a scientist from almost 90 years in the future who had gained spider-abilities as a result of a botched murder attempt. From there he'd ended up becoming CEO of a major corporation. He could keep up intellectually with Aaron and Otto, but he had an overview of a ton of technologies that hadn't yet been developed and a general idea of tech trends for practically the next century, which meant that the little money Peter had on hand, had been turned by the three into a series of investments and tech patents that would see them all living comfortably well-off for the forseeable future.
It had been that money which had bought the building that most of the Spider-folk were living in now.
Technically the downtown Manhattan building was owned by Parker Enterprises, but in practice the building was mostly an apartment complex for the various Spider-folks to live in. Only the top few floors were listed as Parker Enterprises research facilities, otherwise known as Otto and Aaron's lab space.
They needed the space.
There were a lot of them.
Worse, a lot of their number were underage and so living quarters had needed to be assigned with more responsible adults having to stay with the younger ones. Mostly they'd been able to keep it down to one or two kids per adult, but some had no patience with children. Period.
No one had even suggested putting any of the Spider-kids with any of the Wolf-Spiders or the cosmic types.
Peter turned his attention to the kids and noted that most of them were enjoying themselves on the open floor.
Four people in particular were in one end of the room, playing a surprisingly good rendition of Metallica's Creeping Death. Behind the impromptu band, someone had webbed up the wall in angular letters spelling out 'Spyder'.
Obviously the 'Y' made it metal.
The bassist was a spiky-vested, mohawked and pierced sixteen year old bleach-blonde punk version of Peter Parker that had ended up with the nickname 'Spike'.
On the drums was a pretty eighteen year old blonde Gwen Stacy.
Doing the vocals was a sixteen year-old Mary Jane Watson, who preferred to be called 'Mary', a pretty redhead with a very short haircut.
The guitarist was a surprise for Peter. Cindy Moon, who had been calling herself Silk was playing with surprising brilliance, but the more Peter thought about it, the more sense it made. She had been trapped in a bunker for the past 13 years. Who knew what other skills she'd picked up while she'd been bored out of her mind trapped down there? She'd gotten along surprisingly well with the younger Spiders, but she was also practically the same age as they were emotionally, given how she'd been isolated for so long. It also didn't hurt that while she was technically the same age as Peter, she looked like she could pass for a girl in her late teens.
Dancing or just watching them play were the other young Spiders. Pavitr Prabhakar, a Spiderman who had gained his powers from a Yogi in Mumbai, swayed uncertainly to the music and was occasionally chatting with Peni Parker, a much smaller fourteen year old girl who had a red spider in her black hair. On the cleared dance floor, May Parker, Spidergirl from roughly ten years in an alternate future, who didn't actually exist in this timeline, seemed to be enjoying herself dancing and had persuaded Anya Corazon, who was the current day Spidergirl from this timeline, to dance with her. Miles Morales, a sixteen year old Spiderman from world where their Peter Parker had died before he'd hit the age of twenty, was trying to dance with more enthusiasm than skill, in the company of an amused fifteen year old half-asian version of Peter Parker who had claimed to be a ninja.
Elsewhere, other Spider-folk mingled and talked. Not just the ones from various realities, but the local Spider people and those who knew about all the weirdness. Peter spotted his roommate and kind of-sort of ex, Anna Maria Marconi in a conversation with a beefy blonde British guy whose name Peter couldn't remember and an anthropomorphic pig version of himself, with the absurd name of Peter Porker.
Peter sighed and settled back into the couch, just letting the music and the noise wash over him. Way too many new people. It was going to be tough enough trying to know everyone, or at least the part of their group that had opted to stay in New York. A few were moving to Dallas to keep Kaine, one of Peter's clones and currently the Scarlet Spider, company. A few more were moving to California to live and work with Julia Carpenter, formerly a Spider-woman, but now the current Madame Webb.
"Kind of a mess, huh?" A familiar voice asked at his side.
Peter opened his eyes and looked up at his... brother? Cousin? Technically he was a clone, so genetically they might as well be twins, but this one had been from another reality. So who knew what really counted.
"Kind of." Peter agreed. "How's you holding up?"
"Well, other than me being dead in this reality, instead of you," Ben replied, "Surprisingly well."
"I think most of us adjusted pretty well."
Ben nodded sagely, "How are you holding up?"
Peter shrugged, "Still a little weirded out seeing so many people with my face. And seeing a bunch of kids with my face."
"Especially the ones who are technically your kid and aren't at the same time."
Peter gestured to the dancing crowd and the playing band. "I almost don't think we were ever quite that young."
"I technically wasn't ever that young." Ben snorted in amusement, "You sound like an old man."
"I'm watching a fifteen year old version of myself trying to cabbage patch badly. I'm allowed to feel a little old." Peter chuckled.
"I think we're both entitled. We're both going to be playing parent for a while. Peni's moving in with you, Anna Maria and Silk, right?"
"Yes." Peter asked, "Who's staying with you?"
Ben said, pointing, "May for sure. Maybe Ninja-Peter. He hasn't decided yet if he wants to stay with me or with Iron Fist-Peter."
"I thought we were calling Iron Fist-Peter 'Bruce'?" Peter quipped.
"It was that or 'Jackie', I think he settled on 'Bruce', though." Ben chuckled. "Ninja-Peter wants us to call him Ryu."
"Is New York really going to be able to take this much Spider?"
"You had everyone in Manhattan given Spider-powers not too long ago. I think folks will deal." Ben replied.
"Are we going to be able to deal?" Peter asked.
"Gotta try, right?" Ben shrugged and raised own soda can.
Peter clinked his against it.
- - -
Pete and Ben looked up from their conversation, because of the blaze of light that was moving towards them.
Flickering, heatless flame curled all over the Spider-Phoenix's torso as he and the Captain Universe weilding Spiderman came over.
"Hey, great party, Peter," Captain Universe said, his eyes were faintly glowing and disturbingly blank white. "But Willy and I were talking--"
"Willy?" Peter blinked in confusion.
Phoenix Spidey raised his hand, "Me. Because of the fire?"
"This is going to be another of those obscure chain of logical tangents type of name isn't it?" Ben chuckled.
"Not for Wile E. Coyote, I hope?" Peter chimed in.
The Phoenix, now Willy, laughed. "No, no."
"I came up with it," Captain Universe said. "Because of the fire."
Ben and Peter traded confused looks.
Wiley counted off on his fingers, "Fire, made us think of things bursting into fire, like white phosphorous."
"Which is called Willy Pete." Captain Universe gestured grandly, "Tah-dah!"
"... ooookay." Peter said slowly. "I guess we get it. How about you?"
"I was fine with Cap'n Pete, really." Captain Universe replied with a grin.
"He's Jack now." Willy chuckled. "Cap'n Pete, Cap'n Jack."
"That works," Peter agreed.
"I really wanted to be called Awesome McCoolname, but Willy said it would be silly," Captain Jack quipped.
Peter grinned, "Anyway, sorry for the interruption."
"No problem, mere mortal Peter," Jack said grandly, "In any case, Willy and I decided we ought to get going."
"It's early yet," Ben said pulling a cellphone out to check the time.
Peter shrugged, "Well, not all of us can be party animals like we are." He flicked his glance down to their decidedly non-alcoholic sodas and pointedly not commented on the fact that they'd just been sitting and talking for the majority of the party.
Ben rolled his eyes.
"So you guys had rooms picked out yet?" Peter asked.
"That's what we meant, actually," Willy cut in. "When we said we would 'get going' we meant off-world."
Peter blinked in surprise, "Really?"
"New universe. Lots of changes here on Earth, made us wonder how many other changes there were out there," He gestured above his head, "We also talked with the non-human Spidey's. A lot of them wanted to come with us." Jack explained. "It's hard enough trying to adapt being the only ones of their species here. Out there, they've got a chance to meet something remotely compatible."
"We're also taking at least one sort of human one with us." Willy said carefully, pointing a finger up at the ceiling.
Above them was someone in a blood-red skin-tight outfit with black veins at the neck and shoulders that had the definite look of a symbiote. He was crouched upside down devouring a turkey leg with a sort of vicious and terrifying intensity using jaggedly sharp six inch long teeth.
"We figured it would be safer for everyone involved if we kept Carnage Peter with us." Willy added unnecessarily.
"Probably not so much for Porker," Jack admitted, glancing over to the short, porcine humanoid.
"Well, I'm sorry to see you guys go," Peter replied, getting to his feet to shake hands with the two. Ben did as well.
"New York's crowded with enough Peter Parkers," Jack chuckled. "But don't worry, we'll keep in touch."
- - -
I'm the first to like this ? This is an outrage.
Where are you guys ? All playing Beyond Earth ?
Where are you guys ? All playing Beyond Earth ?
Some idea prompts hit me from the SB thread, so that can set off a writing prompt, that will get echoed here. And vice-versa. That said, someone mentioned that Aaron and Otto in this are this verse's equivalent of the Science Bros, which gave rise to this:
- - -
Anya looked thoughtful as she stared at the corner where Otto and Aaron were talking animatedly. Otto was dressed in a finely tailored suit and while he looked very much like the Peter Parker she was familiar with, he carried himself very differently. More confident. More certain. Sitting across from him was Aaron dressed in a Nehru jacket and turtleneck sweater that probably would have been much more stylish back in the 70's, but it was cut to his frame and he somehow managed to make the dated ensemble look good.
Mary smirked from where she was sitting next to Anya on one of the couches and snarked. "Why don't you take a picture, it'll last longer."
Anya started at Mary's comment and turned to face the other girl, "I... what?!"
Gwen, who was on the other end of the couch looked amused, "Are you fantasizing about the Science Bros?"
Anya turned to look at Gwen, a furious blush on her face, "No!" She squeaked out, before getting her voice under control, "I was not thinking that at all!"
Gwen pursed her lips and looked thoughtful, "I have to admit, they do look fairly pretty for guys their age."
"You realize," Mattie Franklin, who was curled up on the easy chair next to the couch, pointed out, "That you just called someone with Peter Parker's face 'pretty'. You'll also note there's like a half-dozen other guys with that face who happen to also be our age in this room alone."
Gwen grinned and winked. "Why, so I did."
Mary waved a dismissive hand, "Not my type."
"Too old?" Gwen asked the other girl who reminded her so much of the one from her own home timeline.
Mary leered and winked, "Wrong bits."
That made Gwen blush hard.
Mattie's eyebrows raised up, "Oooh. Did not know. Thank you for sharing."
Anya glanced back to Mary, "Oh."
Mary gave the other girls a pointed look, "Problem?"
Anya shook her head hurriedly. Mattie shrugged, "Do you have any objections to when we start gossiping about boys?"
"None at all," Mary said with a grandiose wave of one hand.
"I have no problem then," Mattie smiled.
"Anyway, you still haven't told us what you were thinking about, Anya." Gwen said, hurriedly switching back to the original topic.
Anya held her hands up and framed Otto and Aaron between her fingers. "Actually, I was wondering what it would look like if they started making out."
Mattie got a speculative look on her face, then nodded. "This is an interesting thought."
Gwen chuckled, "You know that's technically fantasizing about them."
"It doesn't count if it's with each other and not with her!" Mattie pointed out.
Mary laughed.
- - -
Anya looked thoughtful as she stared at the corner where Otto and Aaron were talking animatedly. Otto was dressed in a finely tailored suit and while he looked very much like the Peter Parker she was familiar with, he carried himself very differently. More confident. More certain. Sitting across from him was Aaron dressed in a Nehru jacket and turtleneck sweater that probably would have been much more stylish back in the 70's, but it was cut to his frame and he somehow managed to make the dated ensemble look good.
Mary smirked from where she was sitting next to Anya on one of the couches and snarked. "Why don't you take a picture, it'll last longer."
Anya started at Mary's comment and turned to face the other girl, "I... what?!"
Gwen, who was on the other end of the couch looked amused, "Are you fantasizing about the Science Bros?"
Anya turned to look at Gwen, a furious blush on her face, "No!" She squeaked out, before getting her voice under control, "I was not thinking that at all!"
Gwen pursed her lips and looked thoughtful, "I have to admit, they do look fairly pretty for guys their age."
"You realize," Mattie Franklin, who was curled up on the easy chair next to the couch, pointed out, "That you just called someone with Peter Parker's face 'pretty'. You'll also note there's like a half-dozen other guys with that face who happen to also be our age in this room alone."
Gwen grinned and winked. "Why, so I did."
Mary waved a dismissive hand, "Not my type."
"Too old?" Gwen asked the other girl who reminded her so much of the one from her own home timeline.
Mary leered and winked, "Wrong bits."
That made Gwen blush hard.
Mattie's eyebrows raised up, "Oooh. Did not know. Thank you for sharing."
Anya glanced back to Mary, "Oh."
Mary gave the other girls a pointed look, "Problem?"
Anya shook her head hurriedly. Mattie shrugged, "Do you have any objections to when we start gossiping about boys?"
"None at all," Mary said with a grandiose wave of one hand.
"I have no problem then," Mattie smiled.
"Anyway, you still haven't told us what you were thinking about, Anya." Gwen said, hurriedly switching back to the original topic.
Anya held her hands up and framed Otto and Aaron between her fingers. "Actually, I was wondering what it would look like if they started making out."
Mattie got a speculative look on her face, then nodded. "This is an interesting thought."
Gwen chuckled, "You know that's technically fantasizing about them."
"It doesn't count if it's with each other and not with her!" Mattie pointed out.
Mary laughed.
Peni was staring. She knew she was staring, but she couldn't help herself. Otto was in a white lab coat, he had gloves and goggles and he looked so much like...
Otto frowned down at the smaller girl. She was in a short, black skirt and a red blouse. Her short hair was held in place by barrettes and she had a set of large wireless black and red headphones resting on the back of her neck. She was, in a word, adorable. She was also another 'a' word at that precise moment. Annoying.
"What? Do I have something on my face?" He asked bluntly.
Unable to stop herself, she asked, "Can you say... 'I have a PhD in Horribleness'?"
The spider on her shoulder shook its thorax, giving the appearance of belly-shaking laughter.
Otto looked confused, "What is a...? What does that even mean?!"
"Sorry!" Peni said, holding her hands up, "Sorry. I actually, wanted to ask another question."
He grunted then turned to face her fully, "What is it? I'm very busy."
"I... actually wanted to ask if you or Dr. Aikman had had a chance to look at my suit yet?" She glanced around him to where the large, red biomechanical suit hung from waldoes in the ceiling. One of its legs had been crushed during the last battle. Both its arms had been ripped off and the pilot's chamber had been peeled open like a grape. Peni had gone into a coma after all the damage and had taken the better part of a week to wake up from the neurological feedback.
"Ah, yes, your Spider suit." Otto said, glancing over his shoulder, "Fascinating, work, really. It's halfway brilliant and ridiculously idiotic in equal measures."
Her spider raised its front legs and began waving them in agitation. Peni herself frowned. "What is that supposed to mean?"
"I mean someone tried to build a cybernetic direct neural interface," Otto gestured to the suit, "But they didn't have quite enough processing power in a small enough footprint to handle the human-side input, so they did a cheat." He gestured to the spider. "They use another biological organism that the control schema can interface with and then have you genetically modified to link back to it. It is incredibly clever in an ass-backwards sort of way."
"My family designed thi--"
He held a hand up, "And I did not mean to be insulting. In fact, I admire the ingenuity that went into it." He began to pace as he continued to speak, "But it's quite obvious that the world you're from went down a divergent technological path and missed out on a lot of useful applications. Same as many some of our other counterparts."
She pouted at him and asked, "I was just asking if you could repair it."
He snorted. "In my sleep, but I refuse."
"Oh." She bit her lower lip. She knew Otto was prickly and difficult, but she hadn't expected this.
She hadn't expected such a blunt refusal to hurt so much.
He adjusted his goggles and gave her a sharp look, "Why do you want it fixed?"
She flinched a bit beneath his stare and told herself she was not going to cry.
This was a good thing right? Without the Sp//dr she was just another girl. There already were a lot of Spidergirls here. And Spiderwomen. All of them had superpowers. None of them needed a heavy suit that needed to be constantly maintained to do anything. "I..."
Before she could say anything more, the spider skittered across her shoulder, up her neck to take up station in her hair, still waving its front legs in agitation.
Otto frowned at the arachnid and seemed to be stifling the urge to flick it away. "Is... it... arguing with me?"
She couldn't help the smile that slipped, "Yes." She took a calming breath then and said, "I need the suit. It's part of me."
"Really." He replied flatly, raising an eyebrow.
"No less a part of me than everyone else's powers are." She said, glaring up at him.
He stroked his chin once then nodded, "I can accept that, I suppose, but I'm still not going to repair it."
She swallowed and looked as though she were about to turn to leave, but then he gave her a cold little smile, "You are."
"I... what?"
"Oh, please. It's no good having an armored suit if you have no clue how to perform your own basic maintenance." He pointed at her, "You, will do the necessary monkey scutwork to bring your suit back online. I wll supervise and devise..." he paused to savor the word, "Improvements."
"But... I'm just... I don't... I wouldn't..."
Otto made another dismissive noise, "Oh, please. You're one of us. Remember the tests Aaron and Miguel administered on all of you youngsters that we told you were to help build up a profile we would be putting into the local school district files?"
"Er... yes?"
"That was a lie. They were IQ tests. We were just curious. You'll be pleased to note that the majority of Parkers ended up in the quite exceptionally gifted to genius ranges. Yourself included."
She blinked in surprise.
"The main exception is Spike who apparently has trouble writing his own name. Aaron suspects dyslexia, I personally suspect brain damage from repeated concussions. The jury is still out on him." He added in a mutter.
"What does that mea--"
"It means, my dear girl, that you will be starting on your college education early. We can probably test you out of Junior High and High school with little trouble. You won't be missing anything."
"But... but... I... I guess... thank you?"
Otto smiled brilliantly at that. "Not at all. Just trying to make sure we all reach out full potential."
- - -
Otto frowned down at the smaller girl. She was in a short, black skirt and a red blouse. Her short hair was held in place by barrettes and she had a set of large wireless black and red headphones resting on the back of her neck. She was, in a word, adorable. She was also another 'a' word at that precise moment. Annoying.
"What? Do I have something on my face?" He asked bluntly.
Unable to stop herself, she asked, "Can you say... 'I have a PhD in Horribleness'?"
The spider on her shoulder shook its thorax, giving the appearance of belly-shaking laughter.
Otto looked confused, "What is a...? What does that even mean?!"
"Sorry!" Peni said, holding her hands up, "Sorry. I actually, wanted to ask another question."
He grunted then turned to face her fully, "What is it? I'm very busy."
"I... actually wanted to ask if you or Dr. Aikman had had a chance to look at my suit yet?" She glanced around him to where the large, red biomechanical suit hung from waldoes in the ceiling. One of its legs had been crushed during the last battle. Both its arms had been ripped off and the pilot's chamber had been peeled open like a grape. Peni had gone into a coma after all the damage and had taken the better part of a week to wake up from the neurological feedback.
"Ah, yes, your Spider suit." Otto said, glancing over his shoulder, "Fascinating, work, really. It's halfway brilliant and ridiculously idiotic in equal measures."
Her spider raised its front legs and began waving them in agitation. Peni herself frowned. "What is that supposed to mean?"
"I mean someone tried to build a cybernetic direct neural interface," Otto gestured to the suit, "But they didn't have quite enough processing power in a small enough footprint to handle the human-side input, so they did a cheat." He gestured to the spider. "They use another biological organism that the control schema can interface with and then have you genetically modified to link back to it. It is incredibly clever in an ass-backwards sort of way."
"My family designed thi--"
He held a hand up, "And I did not mean to be insulting. In fact, I admire the ingenuity that went into it." He began to pace as he continued to speak, "But it's quite obvious that the world you're from went down a divergent technological path and missed out on a lot of useful applications. Same as many some of our other counterparts."
She pouted at him and asked, "I was just asking if you could repair it."
He snorted. "In my sleep, but I refuse."
"Oh." She bit her lower lip. She knew Otto was prickly and difficult, but she hadn't expected this.
She hadn't expected such a blunt refusal to hurt so much.
He adjusted his goggles and gave her a sharp look, "Why do you want it fixed?"
She flinched a bit beneath his stare and told herself she was not going to cry.
This was a good thing right? Without the Sp//dr she was just another girl. There already were a lot of Spidergirls here. And Spiderwomen. All of them had superpowers. None of them needed a heavy suit that needed to be constantly maintained to do anything. "I..."
Before she could say anything more, the spider skittered across her shoulder, up her neck to take up station in her hair, still waving its front legs in agitation.
Otto frowned at the arachnid and seemed to be stifling the urge to flick it away. "Is... it... arguing with me?"
She couldn't help the smile that slipped, "Yes." She took a calming breath then and said, "I need the suit. It's part of me."
"Really." He replied flatly, raising an eyebrow.
"No less a part of me than everyone else's powers are." She said, glaring up at him.
He stroked his chin once then nodded, "I can accept that, I suppose, but I'm still not going to repair it."
She swallowed and looked as though she were about to turn to leave, but then he gave her a cold little smile, "You are."
"I... what?"
"Oh, please. It's no good having an armored suit if you have no clue how to perform your own basic maintenance." He pointed at her, "You, will do the necessary monkey scutwork to bring your suit back online. I wll supervise and devise..." he paused to savor the word, "Improvements."
"But... I'm just... I don't... I wouldn't..."
Otto made another dismissive noise, "Oh, please. You're one of us. Remember the tests Aaron and Miguel administered on all of you youngsters that we told you were to help build up a profile we would be putting into the local school district files?"
"Er... yes?"
"That was a lie. They were IQ tests. We were just curious. You'll be pleased to note that the majority of Parkers ended up in the quite exceptionally gifted to genius ranges. Yourself included."
She blinked in surprise.
"The main exception is Spike who apparently has trouble writing his own name. Aaron suspects dyslexia, I personally suspect brain damage from repeated concussions. The jury is still out on him." He added in a mutter.
"What does that mea--"
"It means, my dear girl, that you will be starting on your college education early. We can probably test you out of Junior High and High school with little trouble. You won't be missing anything."
"But... but... I... I guess... thank you?"
Otto smiled brilliantly at that. "Not at all. Just trying to make sure we all reach out full potential."
- - -
Man that dude gave me nightmares. Completely inhumane, insane, and a sexual deviant, how anyone could stand up to him boggled the mind
Ridiculously Average Guy
I'm you, but stronger
- Location
-
Hmm, what happens if spider-pool meets normal Deadpool?
Chojomeka
Behold! QUEEN MONKE!
This is awesome, are we going to see Interaction between the SPIDA-ARMY! and the rest of the Marvel-Verse?
That's the ideal. Actually, the thread here has stalled slightly, as I'm crossposting here and on SpaceBattles, and some other folks have posted their own snips, which I've ended up reacting to. I'm going to need to get permission to post some of those snips, otherwise, I'll just work entirely off just my stuff.
Again, there may be some gaps since some of my snips are responding to snips other folks posted, but they're on the SB thread rather than here.
- - -
- - -
The older man clapped his hands together sharply a few times and bellows, "Alright, everyone! Settle down!"
He looked to be in his late fifties. He had a clean-shaven, careworn face that was lined in wrinkles. There was a tell-tale looseness to the skin of someone who had been considerably heavier at one point, but had lost the weight. He didn't have the spry, hardness of the younger men in the room, but he carried himself with dignity and the ease of an experienced fighter. His dark brown hair had receded and was shot with gray, especially at the temples, which were almost entirely gray. He had loose slacks and was wearing a dark blue bowling shirt that had "Pete" stitched on a patch on the left side of his chest. Right underneath the patch, was a sticker that said, "Hello, I am..." and below it in sloppy letters, "Officer Peter Parker, Spider-Cop". Below that, in a different and sloppier hand, someone had written in "Gran'pa Pete"
The rest of the room quieted down in fits and starts. He was the oldest one of them, so that somehow translated to a bit of authority despite his not wanting it. More responsibility. He'd fretted over that and how he'd messed it up with his daughter. Now he suddenly had a few dozen new sons, daughters, nieces and nephews and assorted wayward sorts to keep an eye on and keep out of trouble. Admittedly he wasn't alone in the task, but despite his enhanced physique, he had to admit, he was getting too old for this.
"Is this everyone?" He asked the man next to him who had the clipboard.
The brunette man nodded, holding the clipboard with care. He wore a white button-down shirt and slacks. There was a sticker on his chest that said "Hello, I am..." and in handwritten letters: "Miguel O'Hara, Future Spider-man". Although he had a slight resemblance to some of the others in the room, mostly from hair color, it wasn't very pronounced. He wore a pair of pince-nez perched on the bridge of his nose, that actually disguised a smart-glass heads up display. Pete knew that the clipboard was really just a prop. That was mostly just there so everyone else wasn't too weirded out by him making the necessary gestures to adjust his display on thin air.
"Now, I know everyone's still adjusting to our new living situation--" Pete began, which set off a whole lot of muttering from the rest of the people in the room. Most were on the multitude of couches scattered around the rec room, but a few were sticking to the walls and ceiling or had made various web-hammocks here and there. One Spider person in red and gold armor had deployed a set of mechanical arms from his back and was attached to the ceiling that way.
"Settle down." Miguel said sharply, raising his voice.
Pete nodded thanks then continued, "And there's been some teething pains as we get used to things."
Miguel tapped the clipboard and a hologram of a ruined Walmart storefront shimmered into existence next to him.
"I know some of us don't particularly care about this sort of thing," Miguel said, his voice firm, but cutting, "But someone has to. Maybe you might not have realized this, but the amount of money those idiots took from the store was considerably less than the damage we actually caused apprehending them."
This set off a whole torrent of complaints and babble.
"I wasn't even there!"
"I am so sorry! We were getting used to Sp//dr's new control schema!"
"It was not my fault everyone else decided to--"
"Zounds! Those very knaves would have--"
"-- supposed to know they'd fight back even after Shocky guy gave up?!"
Pete clapped sharply twice, silencing the room once more, "Not to mention some of us don't appear to understand the concept of 'appropriate force'."
The hologram shifted to someone who had pretty much been punched into the pavement so hard only her arms and legs were still sticking out of the hole.
He gave a pointed look to a sullen looking brunette girl with short hair who looked away. "She had it coming." She had a white tank top on and torn-up fatigues with combat boots. She had a sticker as well that proclaimed her name as "Ashley Barton". Beneath it, it said "Spider-*****", but the second word had been heavily crossed out and in a much neater hand written below it was the word 'Woman'.
Pete sighed.
"Then there's this." Miguel tapped the clipboard once more and the holographic display switched to the front page of the newspaper. Prominently taking up half the front page, was a blurry photo of a large group of costumed Spider-folks leaping and running and swinging their way down the street. Beneath the photo in very large letters, the newspaper declared, "PLAGUE OF SPIDERS" in slightly smaller, but no less hysterical type, "Bioweapon transforming our citizens into Spiders! CDC mobilized to combat Spider Plague!"
Several people turned to look at a brunette teen-aged girl in a red hoodie who seemed to be trying her best to shrink into her seat. "It seemed like a good idea at the time." She said weakly. Her sticker had her name as "Jessica Parker. Spider-woman," in smaller type below that was written, "Spider-Clone SHIELD agent"
"Peter's sleeping off a migraine right now after seeing that." Pete said sourly. "Now, I know we all... well, most of us... want to help and make a difference. It's pretty much why we put the suits on in the first place, right?"
There were general noises of agreement at this.
"Except it's starting to become clear, that as we are now, we're causing more of a problem than we're actually helping," Miguel continued for Pete.
More babbling and argumentative voices made themselves heard.
The damaged Walmart shimmered into place. This was followed by another battle from the day before where the entire street was completely ruined. Then another with a badly beaten mugger who was dangling upside down from a dented lamp post by webs.
This seemed to silence some of the babbling and the rest quieted down when Pete raised his hands and shouted, "Listen, everyone. Miguel said 'as we are now'. We can all see it. We're getting in each other's way. We're all trying to do the same patrols and we're all still acting like we're out there by ourselves." He gestured to the room, "We aren't. We've got each other now. Nobody's out there alone anymore so we don't have to do everything by ourselves."
This set off more conversation.
"We've got a couple of ideas to try and avoid causing ourselves more problems in the future," Miguel continued tapping at the clipboard, blanking out the holographic display. "We'll be taking more suggestions, but there's one key thing we need to do."
The words 'Organization' shimmered into view.
"We need to get organized." Miguel said.
"What," a voice called from the crowd, "Like a Union?"
Another voice called back, "A Spider-union?"
Miguel noisily cleared his throat, "We have this many Spider-men, women, boys, girls, etc. We don't all need to do the same thing. In fact, it would be a waste, given we have various specialties. I've been speaking with Dr. Parker and Dr. Aikman," He gestured to the two men who'd been seated near to where Miguel and Pete were. Both men were in turtleneck sweaters and everyone noted that both men were wearing pince nez displays similar to what Miguel had. The one who resembled Pete had his sticker declare, "Otto Parker. Superior Spider-man." Someone else had written in very small type beneath the name: "Valet". His pince-nez display was larger and darkened with green tint. The other man's sticker introduced him as, "Aaron Aikman, Self-made Spider-man" and his pince-nez had a retro look to them, slightly oversized like old-fashioned cheaters.
"The first thing we are going to do," Miguel continued, "Is set up a patrol schedule."
Pete nodded, "We don't all need to be wandering around the city all together and all at the same time. Given how many we are, we could come up with one easily that would give all of us a lot more free time. And the way we should have been doing it in the first place, we can call for back up if we need help."
There seemed to be nods of agreement at that.
"Now, I'm turning this meeting entirely over to Miguel and he's going to be taking suggestions from everyone. Especially on ideas for how we can get people to stop freaking out about the Spider-Plague or a Spider-invasion, alright?"
Hands were immediately raised and people began talking all at once.
- - -
"Valet." Otto stared at his sticker. "Now, why the devil would anyone put that on my name tag?"
Aaron smiled thinly and raised an eyebrow, "You... you really don't know?"
"Know what?" Otto blinked and stared at the other man.
"You called yourself Otto Parker. To a group that thinks puns are a legitimate form of humor."
"What does my new name having to do with anything?"
Aaron chuckled, "Seriously, you don't get it?"
"No. Tell me."
"Otto Parker. Auto parker. Someone who parks cars. A valet."
"... Is it too late to change my pseudonym?"
- - -
The meeting was still going strong as Pete leaned against a wall and let the noise wash over him.
Next to him a man crouching on one a coffee table in a red and black outfit said, "Weird, huh? Didn't realize there were this many of us."
"Yeah, that's ri--" Grandpa Pete stared at the unfamiliar visitor. Or more precisely, the visitor was familiar, but not the way that fit for this group. "Aren't you Deadpool?"
"Yep."
"What are you doing here?"
"What? I'm hanging out with my peeps." He held his crossed hands up in front of his chest, thumbs locked together, palms towards his chest and wiggled his fingers individually, "Spider-pride, yo! Represent!"
Spike who was nearby did the same hand motion, "Spider-pride!"
Pete rolled his eyes and sighed. "Get out of here."
"But I am a Spider!" Deadpool whined.
"The same way you're a mutant?" Peter snorted.
"Yup."
"You can't be a Spider and a mutant!"
"She is!" He said pointing at someone whose sticker introduced her as, "May Parker, Spectacular Spider-girl"
"No, she's not!" Pete frowned.
Deadpool shook his head and began counting on his fingers, "Got her powers at adolescence, with no exposure to anything that induces super powers. Fights for a world that fears and hates her. Sounds like a mutant to me."
"That's... technically true." Pete said slowly.
"Therefore, I'm a spider. And a mutant."
"..."
- - -
Not that Deadpool ended up staying too long after that. A poorly chosen comment about the perkiness of Ashley Barton's breasts had resulted in his head being pounded into the floor and unceremoniously dumped in a dumpster a few blocks away, in the hopes that the brain damage would make him forget where he'd been. Ashley's suggestion to kill him was voted down, if only because no one could figure out a viable way to do it successfully.
- - -
- - -
- - -
The older man clapped his hands together sharply a few times and bellows, "Alright, everyone! Settle down!"
He looked to be in his late fifties. He had a clean-shaven, careworn face that was lined in wrinkles. There was a tell-tale looseness to the skin of someone who had been considerably heavier at one point, but had lost the weight. He didn't have the spry, hardness of the younger men in the room, but he carried himself with dignity and the ease of an experienced fighter. His dark brown hair had receded and was shot with gray, especially at the temples, which were almost entirely gray. He had loose slacks and was wearing a dark blue bowling shirt that had "Pete" stitched on a patch on the left side of his chest. Right underneath the patch, was a sticker that said, "Hello, I am..." and below it in sloppy letters, "Officer Peter Parker, Spider-Cop". Below that, in a different and sloppier hand, someone had written in "Gran'pa Pete"
The rest of the room quieted down in fits and starts. He was the oldest one of them, so that somehow translated to a bit of authority despite his not wanting it. More responsibility. He'd fretted over that and how he'd messed it up with his daughter. Now he suddenly had a few dozen new sons, daughters, nieces and nephews and assorted wayward sorts to keep an eye on and keep out of trouble. Admittedly he wasn't alone in the task, but despite his enhanced physique, he had to admit, he was getting too old for this.
"Is this everyone?" He asked the man next to him who had the clipboard.
The brunette man nodded, holding the clipboard with care. He wore a white button-down shirt and slacks. There was a sticker on his chest that said "Hello, I am..." and in handwritten letters: "Miguel O'Hara, Future Spider-man". Although he had a slight resemblance to some of the others in the room, mostly from hair color, it wasn't very pronounced. He wore a pair of pince-nez perched on the bridge of his nose, that actually disguised a smart-glass heads up display. Pete knew that the clipboard was really just a prop. That was mostly just there so everyone else wasn't too weirded out by him making the necessary gestures to adjust his display on thin air.
"Now, I know everyone's still adjusting to our new living situation--" Pete began, which set off a whole lot of muttering from the rest of the people in the room. Most were on the multitude of couches scattered around the rec room, but a few were sticking to the walls and ceiling or had made various web-hammocks here and there. One Spider person in red and gold armor had deployed a set of mechanical arms from his back and was attached to the ceiling that way.
"Settle down." Miguel said sharply, raising his voice.
Pete nodded thanks then continued, "And there's been some teething pains as we get used to things."
Miguel tapped the clipboard and a hologram of a ruined Walmart storefront shimmered into existence next to him.
"I know some of us don't particularly care about this sort of thing," Miguel said, his voice firm, but cutting, "But someone has to. Maybe you might not have realized this, but the amount of money those idiots took from the store was considerably less than the damage we actually caused apprehending them."
This set off a whole torrent of complaints and babble.
"I wasn't even there!"
"I am so sorry! We were getting used to Sp//dr's new control schema!"
"It was not my fault everyone else decided to--"
"Zounds! Those very knaves would have--"
"-- supposed to know they'd fight back even after Shocky guy gave up?!"
Pete clapped sharply twice, silencing the room once more, "Not to mention some of us don't appear to understand the concept of 'appropriate force'."
The hologram shifted to someone who had pretty much been punched into the pavement so hard only her arms and legs were still sticking out of the hole.
He gave a pointed look to a sullen looking brunette girl with short hair who looked away. "She had it coming." She had a white tank top on and torn-up fatigues with combat boots. She had a sticker as well that proclaimed her name as "Ashley Barton". Beneath it, it said "Spider-*****", but the second word had been heavily crossed out and in a much neater hand written below it was the word 'Woman'.
Pete sighed.
"Then there's this." Miguel tapped the clipboard once more and the holographic display switched to the front page of the newspaper. Prominently taking up half the front page, was a blurry photo of a large group of costumed Spider-folks leaping and running and swinging their way down the street. Beneath the photo in very large letters, the newspaper declared, "PLAGUE OF SPIDERS" in slightly smaller, but no less hysterical type, "Bioweapon transforming our citizens into Spiders! CDC mobilized to combat Spider Plague!"
Several people turned to look at a brunette teen-aged girl in a red hoodie who seemed to be trying her best to shrink into her seat. "It seemed like a good idea at the time." She said weakly. Her sticker had her name as "Jessica Parker. Spider-woman," in smaller type below that was written, "Spider-Clone SHIELD agent"
"Peter's sleeping off a migraine right now after seeing that." Pete said sourly. "Now, I know we all... well, most of us... want to help and make a difference. It's pretty much why we put the suits on in the first place, right?"
There were general noises of agreement at this.
"Except it's starting to become clear, that as we are now, we're causing more of a problem than we're actually helping," Miguel continued for Pete.
More babbling and argumentative voices made themselves heard.
The damaged Walmart shimmered into place. This was followed by another battle from the day before where the entire street was completely ruined. Then another with a badly beaten mugger who was dangling upside down from a dented lamp post by webs.
This seemed to silence some of the babbling and the rest quieted down when Pete raised his hands and shouted, "Listen, everyone. Miguel said 'as we are now'. We can all see it. We're getting in each other's way. We're all trying to do the same patrols and we're all still acting like we're out there by ourselves." He gestured to the room, "We aren't. We've got each other now. Nobody's out there alone anymore so we don't have to do everything by ourselves."
This set off more conversation.
"We've got a couple of ideas to try and avoid causing ourselves more problems in the future," Miguel continued tapping at the clipboard, blanking out the holographic display. "We'll be taking more suggestions, but there's one key thing we need to do."
The words 'Organization' shimmered into view.
"We need to get organized." Miguel said.
"What," a voice called from the crowd, "Like a Union?"
Another voice called back, "A Spider-union?"
Miguel noisily cleared his throat, "We have this many Spider-men, women, boys, girls, etc. We don't all need to do the same thing. In fact, it would be a waste, given we have various specialties. I've been speaking with Dr. Parker and Dr. Aikman," He gestured to the two men who'd been seated near to where Miguel and Pete were. Both men were in turtleneck sweaters and everyone noted that both men were wearing pince nez displays similar to what Miguel had. The one who resembled Pete had his sticker declare, "Otto Parker. Superior Spider-man." Someone else had written in very small type beneath the name: "Valet". His pince-nez display was larger and darkened with green tint. The other man's sticker introduced him as, "Aaron Aikman, Self-made Spider-man" and his pince-nez had a retro look to them, slightly oversized like old-fashioned cheaters.
"The first thing we are going to do," Miguel continued, "Is set up a patrol schedule."
Pete nodded, "We don't all need to be wandering around the city all together and all at the same time. Given how many we are, we could come up with one easily that would give all of us a lot more free time. And the way we should have been doing it in the first place, we can call for back up if we need help."
There seemed to be nods of agreement at that.
"Now, I'm turning this meeting entirely over to Miguel and he's going to be taking suggestions from everyone. Especially on ideas for how we can get people to stop freaking out about the Spider-Plague or a Spider-invasion, alright?"
Hands were immediately raised and people began talking all at once.
- - -
"Valet." Otto stared at his sticker. "Now, why the devil would anyone put that on my name tag?"
Aaron smiled thinly and raised an eyebrow, "You... you really don't know?"
"Know what?" Otto blinked and stared at the other man.
"You called yourself Otto Parker. To a group that thinks puns are a legitimate form of humor."
"What does my new name having to do with anything?"
Aaron chuckled, "Seriously, you don't get it?"
"No. Tell me."
"Otto Parker. Auto parker. Someone who parks cars. A valet."
"... Is it too late to change my pseudonym?"
- - -
The meeting was still going strong as Pete leaned against a wall and let the noise wash over him.
Next to him a man crouching on one a coffee table in a red and black outfit said, "Weird, huh? Didn't realize there were this many of us."
"Yeah, that's ri--" Grandpa Pete stared at the unfamiliar visitor. Or more precisely, the visitor was familiar, but not the way that fit for this group. "Aren't you Deadpool?"
"Yep."
"What are you doing here?"
"What? I'm hanging out with my peeps." He held his crossed hands up in front of his chest, thumbs locked together, palms towards his chest and wiggled his fingers individually, "Spider-pride, yo! Represent!"
Spike who was nearby did the same hand motion, "Spider-pride!"
Pete rolled his eyes and sighed. "Get out of here."
"But I am a Spider!" Deadpool whined.
"The same way you're a mutant?" Peter snorted.
"Yup."
"You can't be a Spider and a mutant!"
"She is!" He said pointing at someone whose sticker introduced her as, "May Parker, Spectacular Spider-girl"
"No, she's not!" Pete frowned.
Deadpool shook his head and began counting on his fingers, "Got her powers at adolescence, with no exposure to anything that induces super powers. Fights for a world that fears and hates her. Sounds like a mutant to me."
"That's... technically true." Pete said slowly.
"Therefore, I'm a spider. And a mutant."
"..."
- - -
Not that Deadpool ended up staying too long after that. A poorly chosen comment about the perkiness of Ashley Barton's breasts had resulted in his head being pounded into the floor and unceremoniously dumped in a dumpster a few blocks away, in the hopes that the brain damage would make him forget where he'd been. Ashley's suggestion to kill him was voted down, if only because no one could figure out a viable way to do it successfully.
- - -
Elsewhere...
- - -
He breathed slowly and easily through his nose. The rifle felt good in his hands and against his cheek. It rested on the edge of the Chicago roof in a familiar manner.
It reminded him of that time with the Kingpin. That had been from a mile away. That was still sort of a personal best.
The rifle he had now wasn't the one he'd used then. That one had been ripped apart right before he'd escaped to this world in the company of his brothers and sisters in arms. This one he had, though... it was a good replacement.
The scope communicated with the electronics in his mask's eyepiece, giving him an enhanced view of his target. Sometimes he liked to turn those electronics off. Aim naturally. Just normal optical lenses and his own eyes. Other times he didn't even bother with the scope. Just the sights. Those would be for sport, though. This was too important to leave to chance.
He breathed and the mask caught his breath and warmed his face beneath the black material. A marvel of modern textile manufacturing. Lightweight ripstop ballistic cloth that breathed, was bullet-proof against small caliber arms and was fire resistant. Any complaints he had about it boiled down to how badly it kept the chill out, but wearing other clothes on top of it pretty much took care of that. The skull logo on his shirt wasn't strictly necessary. Uniforms and costumes, in general really shouldn't be necessary, but James had it right. They did need symbols. People understood symbols. Sometimes anonymity worked. Sometimes it didn't.
This particular op didn't really call for it either way. So no need to hide, but by the same token, no need to advertise. So he wore what he was comfortable with. Black and the white spider, with the design stylized to look like a skull on his torso. A tactical vest over that and a few other weapons strapped to his body by a harness. Experience with the Marines and against the mob had taught him the value of keeping an extra weapon in reserve. Some of the others didn't see the importance, but he did.
He smiled beneath his mask as his target walked into his sights.
He sub-vocalized into his throat mike. "Six? Skull. I have a clean shot. Go or no go?"
There was a brief soft humming from the other end of the line that he'd come to realize meant that his companion was doing that strange thing he did with his Spider Sense. The code names were their own little nods to telling one another apart. After all, both he and James, were both really Peter Parker, but James could live with being James and he could live with being Frank. They were also both Spider-man, so neither of them got that as their codename for the comms. The third member of their little group on the other hand, got to use her real name and regular codename for the most part.
James Parker, the Spiderman now currently jokingly calling himself 'Double-O-Six', as a torturous combination joke involving both a James Bond reference and a Prisoner reference, finally replied, "Do not take the shot. I'll be there in a minute."
Frank Parker, the Spiderman using 'Skull' as his comms codename (for his choice of attire) frowned, but was far too disciplined a soldier to question the order. He could feel that warning tingle at the base of his skull that his own Spider Sense was giving him a warning. James might have one that bordered on the outright precognative, but Frank's was exceptional for its sensitivity. He left the sniper rifle propped up where it was and spun around, pulling a pistol out from the small of his back smoothly and aiming it at the woman who thought she had the drop on him.
Redhead. Tight black outfit. Distinctive red hourglass design on her belt. He blinked in surprise at the coincidence. Another spider-themed person. And a redhead. He did his best to focus on her eyes, despite the distraction of her too-red hair. Or the much more blatant distraction of the zipper that had been pulled down from her uniform's throat to nestle right at the point that would maximize showing off the curves of her breasts.
"Black Widow." He said conversationally.
She had a gun in her own hands, a large pistol she was holding in a conventional shooter's stance. At this range, with her skills, she could probably do some damage even if she did a snap-shot from the hip. Well, assuming he didn't move. "You look like you raided Punisher and Spiderman's closets for castoffs." She replied, in an equally conversational tone.
"You'd be amazed at what you can turn up in a thrift store." He quipped.
"Like a sniper rifle?"
"Amazed, I tell you." He insisted. The longer she kept talking the more time James had to get to them. At least, that's what he assumed James was doing. He had no clue what May was doing right that moment, but she was supposed to have his back.
"Why don't you tell me more?" The Widow's voice was faintly sultry. Flirtatious. He knew, of course, that was just a pose. Catch him off-guard. Not that it would work. He only had room for one redheaded girl.
He shrugged, without shifting his aim at all, "I would, but I'm really more the strong, silent type."
"You aren't all that silent." She pointed out with a small smile.
"I fail at being a stereotype." He admitted dryly.
Her eyes narrowed, "You sound like Spiderman. You move like him. But the Spiderman I know doesn't know the first thing about guns. You hold one like you know what you're doing. And I know for a fact that he's still in New York, so who are you?"
A throat cleared behind her, "He's just a man, trying to do a job."
The Widow froze, then glanced over her shoulder. Standing behind her was another man, this one in a black outfit with a large triangulat red field across the chest with a small black spider in the center of it. His full-face mask was also red with black lenses. He had a pistol in his hands, aimed lazily at her head.
"Why didn't you just shoot her?" Frank asked.
"She might have gotten a shot off at you." James replied blandly.
Frank shrugged, "I've been shot before."
The Black Widow turned from one to the other as they spoke, eyeing them both with what Frank surmised was just a hint of nervousness that she hid well.
"I have to admit, this is a little awkward." James said after a moment.
"You don't say," The Widow said with a raised eyebrow.
"I think we all need to calm down a little." He held his hands up, the pistol's muzzle aimed to the sky. "There. You can lower your weapon too, and my friend Skull can put his piece down as well. Sound good?"
She seemed to consider that for a moment, then lowered her gun, sliding it back into its holster. Frank couldn't help but notice that she kept her hand close to it and he had little doubt that she could draw it fast... probably not as fast as him or James, but fast enough. He slipped his pistol back into its holster, but idly ran his middle finger against the wafer-thin switch at his palm, knowing that at least his web-spinners were still on-hand.
"I'm sorry about all of this," James continued, keeping his hands held up placatingly, "I certainly wasn't expecting to blunder into a SHIELD op."
She frowned and tilted her head slightly, "What makes you think this is a SHIELD op?"
The tingle was gone from the base of his neck now. That was good, Frank decided to let James handle the talking, so he sat down on the edge of the rooftop and tugged at the stays on his mask, causing the lower half to fold downwards, leaving his mouth and jaw clear.
Frank concentrated on lighting up a cigarette as James kept talking. "Why else would you be here?" James said, barely keeping the sarcasm out of his voice. "And so close to the home of Zlatko Andavorias a man with known ties to Latverian Intelligence who may or may not be funneling weapons to US terrorists?"
The Widow kept silent, but even Frank noted the slight tightening in the woman's jaw. James could probably read a lot more into that than he could, but his other self had a distinctly different and subtler skill-set.
"We were planning on just taking him out, cut the pipeline, but I'm guessing you want to keep him alive." He paused, watching her. "The obvious reason would be that he could lead you further up the food chain." He paused again, "Although with Latverian Intelligence that usually means some sort of cut-out well before it gets anywhere useful, so you're probably looking at it from the other direction. So... whoever he's selling to?"
"Telepath?" She frowned.
Frank could see James smirking under his mask, "Just good at what I do."
Frank took a deep drag of his cigarette and blew it off the side of the rooftop. "So ops off?" He asked James. His neck was tingling again. Something was coming. He nonchalantly began packing up his rifle and slung it over his shoulder.
"Pretty much." He shrugged, then asked the Widow, "Unless you want some help?"
"Sorry, I don't know either of you and while I appreciate it, I don't think you'll be in much of a position to help when we have you in lockup for interrogation." Widow grinned slightly as the tell-tale whine of turbine fans rose up behind her. A flying car rose into view with a pair of uniformed SHIELD agents aiming rifles at them both.
"Oh. She was stalling too." Frank said with a shrug. He slowly raised both hands and looked to see if he could roll off the roof before anyone got a shot off.
Too far. Damn. Then again, neither he nor James had been surprised by the development. So obviously, James had a plan.
"Thank you for the kind invitation," James said. "But I think we'll have to decline."
"I'm going to have to insist." Widow said, her pistol back in her hands.
"And here I thought we were going to be friends." James said with a sad shake of his head.
Frank felt a distinct spike in his Spider-sense which he knew James was somehow setting off, but he knew it for what it was. A signal.
He snorted then took the opportunity to blow a cloud of smoke into the Black Widow's face. It wasn't much, but it was enough of a distraction for whatever it was he knew James must have had in mind.
Shots rang out as Frank felt himself jerked back. Then he was falling off the side of the building and so was James.
He felt the tingle at his neck again and old reflexes took over. He spun in mid-air, angular momentum adjusting as he oriented his limbs before extending his arm out and shooting off a webline to a building the next block over. James did the same, but headed in the opposite direction. That message was clear. They'd meet up later at the safehouse before they left.
Behind them, they could see Widow staring down over the side the roof, reluctant to shoot down into the crowded street, but the flying car was ready to begin its own pursuit. In the shadow of the building, the third member of their group kept herself hidden. May had done her part in grabbing both of them with her symbiote and hurling them off the building before anyone had a chance to shoot.
They'd all get a chance to meet up. Maybe figure out if they needed to do anything further in Chicago or if they should move on.
- - -
- - -
He breathed slowly and easily through his nose. The rifle felt good in his hands and against his cheek. It rested on the edge of the Chicago roof in a familiar manner.
It reminded him of that time with the Kingpin. That had been from a mile away. That was still sort of a personal best.
The rifle he had now wasn't the one he'd used then. That one had been ripped apart right before he'd escaped to this world in the company of his brothers and sisters in arms. This one he had, though... it was a good replacement.
The scope communicated with the electronics in his mask's eyepiece, giving him an enhanced view of his target. Sometimes he liked to turn those electronics off. Aim naturally. Just normal optical lenses and his own eyes. Other times he didn't even bother with the scope. Just the sights. Those would be for sport, though. This was too important to leave to chance.
He breathed and the mask caught his breath and warmed his face beneath the black material. A marvel of modern textile manufacturing. Lightweight ripstop ballistic cloth that breathed, was bullet-proof against small caliber arms and was fire resistant. Any complaints he had about it boiled down to how badly it kept the chill out, but wearing other clothes on top of it pretty much took care of that. The skull logo on his shirt wasn't strictly necessary. Uniforms and costumes, in general really shouldn't be necessary, but James had it right. They did need symbols. People understood symbols. Sometimes anonymity worked. Sometimes it didn't.
This particular op didn't really call for it either way. So no need to hide, but by the same token, no need to advertise. So he wore what he was comfortable with. Black and the white spider, with the design stylized to look like a skull on his torso. A tactical vest over that and a few other weapons strapped to his body by a harness. Experience with the Marines and against the mob had taught him the value of keeping an extra weapon in reserve. Some of the others didn't see the importance, but he did.
He smiled beneath his mask as his target walked into his sights.
He sub-vocalized into his throat mike. "Six? Skull. I have a clean shot. Go or no go?"
There was a brief soft humming from the other end of the line that he'd come to realize meant that his companion was doing that strange thing he did with his Spider Sense. The code names were their own little nods to telling one another apart. After all, both he and James, were both really Peter Parker, but James could live with being James and he could live with being Frank. They were also both Spider-man, so neither of them got that as their codename for the comms. The third member of their little group on the other hand, got to use her real name and regular codename for the most part.
James Parker, the Spiderman now currently jokingly calling himself 'Double-O-Six', as a torturous combination joke involving both a James Bond reference and a Prisoner reference, finally replied, "Do not take the shot. I'll be there in a minute."
Frank Parker, the Spiderman using 'Skull' as his comms codename (for his choice of attire) frowned, but was far too disciplined a soldier to question the order. He could feel that warning tingle at the base of his skull that his own Spider Sense was giving him a warning. James might have one that bordered on the outright precognative, but Frank's was exceptional for its sensitivity. He left the sniper rifle propped up where it was and spun around, pulling a pistol out from the small of his back smoothly and aiming it at the woman who thought she had the drop on him.
Redhead. Tight black outfit. Distinctive red hourglass design on her belt. He blinked in surprise at the coincidence. Another spider-themed person. And a redhead. He did his best to focus on her eyes, despite the distraction of her too-red hair. Or the much more blatant distraction of the zipper that had been pulled down from her uniform's throat to nestle right at the point that would maximize showing off the curves of her breasts.
"Black Widow." He said conversationally.
She had a gun in her own hands, a large pistol she was holding in a conventional shooter's stance. At this range, with her skills, she could probably do some damage even if she did a snap-shot from the hip. Well, assuming he didn't move. "You look like you raided Punisher and Spiderman's closets for castoffs." She replied, in an equally conversational tone.
"You'd be amazed at what you can turn up in a thrift store." He quipped.
"Like a sniper rifle?"
"Amazed, I tell you." He insisted. The longer she kept talking the more time James had to get to them. At least, that's what he assumed James was doing. He had no clue what May was doing right that moment, but she was supposed to have his back.
"Why don't you tell me more?" The Widow's voice was faintly sultry. Flirtatious. He knew, of course, that was just a pose. Catch him off-guard. Not that it would work. He only had room for one redheaded girl.
He shrugged, without shifting his aim at all, "I would, but I'm really more the strong, silent type."
"You aren't all that silent." She pointed out with a small smile.
"I fail at being a stereotype." He admitted dryly.
Her eyes narrowed, "You sound like Spiderman. You move like him. But the Spiderman I know doesn't know the first thing about guns. You hold one like you know what you're doing. And I know for a fact that he's still in New York, so who are you?"
A throat cleared behind her, "He's just a man, trying to do a job."
The Widow froze, then glanced over her shoulder. Standing behind her was another man, this one in a black outfit with a large triangulat red field across the chest with a small black spider in the center of it. His full-face mask was also red with black lenses. He had a pistol in his hands, aimed lazily at her head.
"Why didn't you just shoot her?" Frank asked.
"She might have gotten a shot off at you." James replied blandly.
Frank shrugged, "I've been shot before."
The Black Widow turned from one to the other as they spoke, eyeing them both with what Frank surmised was just a hint of nervousness that she hid well.
"I have to admit, this is a little awkward." James said after a moment.
"You don't say," The Widow said with a raised eyebrow.
"I think we all need to calm down a little." He held his hands up, the pistol's muzzle aimed to the sky. "There. You can lower your weapon too, and my friend Skull can put his piece down as well. Sound good?"
She seemed to consider that for a moment, then lowered her gun, sliding it back into its holster. Frank couldn't help but notice that she kept her hand close to it and he had little doubt that she could draw it fast... probably not as fast as him or James, but fast enough. He slipped his pistol back into its holster, but idly ran his middle finger against the wafer-thin switch at his palm, knowing that at least his web-spinners were still on-hand.
"I'm sorry about all of this," James continued, keeping his hands held up placatingly, "I certainly wasn't expecting to blunder into a SHIELD op."
She frowned and tilted her head slightly, "What makes you think this is a SHIELD op?"
The tingle was gone from the base of his neck now. That was good, Frank decided to let James handle the talking, so he sat down on the edge of the rooftop and tugged at the stays on his mask, causing the lower half to fold downwards, leaving his mouth and jaw clear.
Frank concentrated on lighting up a cigarette as James kept talking. "Why else would you be here?" James said, barely keeping the sarcasm out of his voice. "And so close to the home of Zlatko Andavorias a man with known ties to Latverian Intelligence who may or may not be funneling weapons to US terrorists?"
The Widow kept silent, but even Frank noted the slight tightening in the woman's jaw. James could probably read a lot more into that than he could, but his other self had a distinctly different and subtler skill-set.
"We were planning on just taking him out, cut the pipeline, but I'm guessing you want to keep him alive." He paused, watching her. "The obvious reason would be that he could lead you further up the food chain." He paused again, "Although with Latverian Intelligence that usually means some sort of cut-out well before it gets anywhere useful, so you're probably looking at it from the other direction. So... whoever he's selling to?"
"Telepath?" She frowned.
Frank could see James smirking under his mask, "Just good at what I do."
Frank took a deep drag of his cigarette and blew it off the side of the rooftop. "So ops off?" He asked James. His neck was tingling again. Something was coming. He nonchalantly began packing up his rifle and slung it over his shoulder.
"Pretty much." He shrugged, then asked the Widow, "Unless you want some help?"
"Sorry, I don't know either of you and while I appreciate it, I don't think you'll be in much of a position to help when we have you in lockup for interrogation." Widow grinned slightly as the tell-tale whine of turbine fans rose up behind her. A flying car rose into view with a pair of uniformed SHIELD agents aiming rifles at them both.
"Oh. She was stalling too." Frank said with a shrug. He slowly raised both hands and looked to see if he could roll off the roof before anyone got a shot off.
Too far. Damn. Then again, neither he nor James had been surprised by the development. So obviously, James had a plan.
"Thank you for the kind invitation," James said. "But I think we'll have to decline."
"I'm going to have to insist." Widow said, her pistol back in her hands.
"And here I thought we were going to be friends." James said with a sad shake of his head.
Frank felt a distinct spike in his Spider-sense which he knew James was somehow setting off, but he knew it for what it was. A signal.
He snorted then took the opportunity to blow a cloud of smoke into the Black Widow's face. It wasn't much, but it was enough of a distraction for whatever it was he knew James must have had in mind.
Shots rang out as Frank felt himself jerked back. Then he was falling off the side of the building and so was James.
He felt the tingle at his neck again and old reflexes took over. He spun in mid-air, angular momentum adjusting as he oriented his limbs before extending his arm out and shooting off a webline to a building the next block over. James did the same, but headed in the opposite direction. That message was clear. They'd meet up later at the safehouse before they left.
Behind them, they could see Widow staring down over the side the roof, reluctant to shoot down into the crowded street, but the flying car was ready to begin its own pursuit. In the shadow of the building, the third member of their group kept herself hidden. May had done her part in grabbing both of them with her symbiote and hurling them off the building before anyone had a chance to shoot.
They'd all get a chance to meet up. Maybe figure out if they needed to do anything further in Chicago or if they should move on.
- - -
- - -
The building that Spider-folks had taken to calling Spider-Central had a terrific security system. The problem is that it also had a lot of teenagers with wildly varying ranges of attentiveness and technological savvy making that wonderful security system about as porous as sieve. So you had to bring a human element into it.
Pete pushed up his cap and looked up as the door to the building's lobby opened. Other than the kids, all the adults had pretty much gone looking for work or at least found something to do with themselves, because no one could really stand dozens of cooped up superhumans with the proportionate attention span of a spider. A few had opted to work around the building, since it was just easier that way. A few of the younger folks were working as maintenance or janitorial staff and while completely unnecessary, Grandpa Pete had ended up in the building's lobby posing as the security guard.
If nothing else he looked good in the uniform and he got to spend the good part of his day either just 'resting his eyes' or playing games on his phone.
And every once in a while, he actually got to do something.
Like right now.
Two men stepped in. Both wore well-tailored black suits with long coats. Nothing extravagant, but not cheap either. There was a certain... 'government-issue' look to the men. Peter's eyes also flicked towards the tell-tale bulges of shoulder holsters.
The first man was dark skinned, bald and had a well-trimmed mustache and goatee. He had an eyepatch over his left eye. The other man had prematurely receding brown hair.
Pete had been in the game long enough to recognize trouble when it came to his door. Or at least government agents.
Behind him, the elevator dinged and opened to teenagers chattering.
"Good afternoon," The man with the brown hair said, smiling faintly, "I'm Agent Coulson with SHIELD," He gestured to the other man, "This is--"
At this point they were interrupted by a startled exclamation from the elevator, "Directory Fury!"
Everyone turned to stare at the brunette girl in the red hoodie who had her hands slapped over her mouth. Next to her a younger, shorter dark skinned boy was also staring.
"Director?" The man identified as Fury rumbled.
The boy and the girl gave tiny alarmed squeaks and dove back into the elevator just in time for the doors to close on them. The teenagers behind them were far more confused.
Coulson gave Fury a smirk, "Did you get promoted when I wasn't paying attention?"
He gave the other man a one-eyed glare, before turning his attention to Pete at his desk.
"How can I help you, gentlemen?" Pete said opting to stay as calm as he could, even as he tapped the intercom button to call the attention of anyone who was in the security room that they might possibly have some trouble.
- - -
Otto in his lab coat practically bounced out of the elevator, shoving a soaking wet, barefoot and annoyed Jessica Drew who was only wearing two towels, one around her body and the other wrapping up her long, black hair. They both practically skidded to a stop in front of Pete's desk in the empty lobby. Both of them having the ability to cling to sheer surfaces proved useful on the slick marble.
Pete was back to sitting behind his desk, humming to himself idly as he looked at the door.
"Where are they? Where did the SHIELD Agents go?" Otto demanded.
Pete glanced up at Otto then replied, "They left. They said they just wanted directions to the deli on the corner of Sachs and Third."
"Why the hell did you drag me down here?!" Jessica demanded.
"So you could mind control the SHIELD Agents into leaving!" Otto snapped at her.
"Oh look, they're gone." She observed sarcastically, "Mission accomplished."
She poked Otto sharply in the chest, "And for the record, I can't 'mind control' anyone! At best, my pheromones can make people more willing to do what I ask them. It can't make them do anything they really don't want to!"
"And she can already get that persuasive by just bending over a little." Pete quipped. Jessica gave him an annoyed look, to which he replied with an innocent smile and an eyebrow waggle.
Otto loomed over Pete, clearly upset, "Are you sure that was all they wanted?! Directions?! Even after those insipid children all but spilled the fact that they were from another dimension and knew Nick Fury by name?!"
Pete shrugged, "That's all they said they wanted. Although there isn't a deli on that corner."
Otto glared over his shoulder at the door, "Was it a test, do you think? Or is this a warning? Were they trying to tell us something? That they know we're here and telling us we're under observation?"
Jessica huffed in annoyance, "SHIELD does occasionally go in for that sort of mind game, but why would they? I mean why--"
"Obviously to goad us into acting precipitously!" Otto exclaimed, "We need to begin implementing the changes we discussed in the last meeting! Now! Before they can get further in their investigation of us! Obviously we are attracting too much attention to the building!"
"Y'know, sometimes a guy really just wants directions." Pete observed calmly as Otto stormed out of the lobby and back to the elevator.
Jessica huffed, reaching up to hold her towel in place. "He kicked my door down while I'm in the shower and dragged me down here with no warning at all!"
"No consideration," Pete commiserated. "I'll let Alex know to get your door replaced, first thing, Miss Drew."
"Thank you, Pete." She smiled. "I'm going to go put something on."
"Don't need to on my account." He chuckled and winked at her.
She rolled her eyes and was halfway to the elevator when she turned and asked, "Do you think they were just asking directions?"
"If that's all they wanted," Pete replied, "Why did they feel the need to identify themselves as SHIELD Agents?"
- - -
The building that Spider-folks had taken to calling Spider-Central had a terrific security system. The problem is that it also had a lot of teenagers with wildly varying ranges of attentiveness and technological savvy making that wonderful security system about as porous as sieve. So you had to bring a human element into it.
Pete pushed up his cap and looked up as the door to the building's lobby opened. Other than the kids, all the adults had pretty much gone looking for work or at least found something to do with themselves, because no one could really stand dozens of cooped up superhumans with the proportionate attention span of a spider. A few had opted to work around the building, since it was just easier that way. A few of the younger folks were working as maintenance or janitorial staff and while completely unnecessary, Grandpa Pete had ended up in the building's lobby posing as the security guard.
If nothing else he looked good in the uniform and he got to spend the good part of his day either just 'resting his eyes' or playing games on his phone.
And every once in a while, he actually got to do something.
Like right now.
Two men stepped in. Both wore well-tailored black suits with long coats. Nothing extravagant, but not cheap either. There was a certain... 'government-issue' look to the men. Peter's eyes also flicked towards the tell-tale bulges of shoulder holsters.
The first man was dark skinned, bald and had a well-trimmed mustache and goatee. He had an eyepatch over his left eye. The other man had prematurely receding brown hair.
Pete had been in the game long enough to recognize trouble when it came to his door. Or at least government agents.
Behind him, the elevator dinged and opened to teenagers chattering.
"Good afternoon," The man with the brown hair said, smiling faintly, "I'm Agent Coulson with SHIELD," He gestured to the other man, "This is--"
At this point they were interrupted by a startled exclamation from the elevator, "Directory Fury!"
Everyone turned to stare at the brunette girl in the red hoodie who had her hands slapped over her mouth. Next to her a younger, shorter dark skinned boy was also staring.
"Director?" The man identified as Fury rumbled.
The boy and the girl gave tiny alarmed squeaks and dove back into the elevator just in time for the doors to close on them. The teenagers behind them were far more confused.
Coulson gave Fury a smirk, "Did you get promoted when I wasn't paying attention?"
He gave the other man a one-eyed glare, before turning his attention to Pete at his desk.
"How can I help you, gentlemen?" Pete said opting to stay as calm as he could, even as he tapped the intercom button to call the attention of anyone who was in the security room that they might possibly have some trouble.
- - -
Otto in his lab coat practically bounced out of the elevator, shoving a soaking wet, barefoot and annoyed Jessica Drew who was only wearing two towels, one around her body and the other wrapping up her long, black hair. They both practically skidded to a stop in front of Pete's desk in the empty lobby. Both of them having the ability to cling to sheer surfaces proved useful on the slick marble.
Pete was back to sitting behind his desk, humming to himself idly as he looked at the door.
"Where are they? Where did the SHIELD Agents go?" Otto demanded.
Pete glanced up at Otto then replied, "They left. They said they just wanted directions to the deli on the corner of Sachs and Third."
"Why the hell did you drag me down here?!" Jessica demanded.
"So you could mind control the SHIELD Agents into leaving!" Otto snapped at her.
"Oh look, they're gone." She observed sarcastically, "Mission accomplished."
She poked Otto sharply in the chest, "And for the record, I can't 'mind control' anyone! At best, my pheromones can make people more willing to do what I ask them. It can't make them do anything they really don't want to!"
"And she can already get that persuasive by just bending over a little." Pete quipped. Jessica gave him an annoyed look, to which he replied with an innocent smile and an eyebrow waggle.
Otto loomed over Pete, clearly upset, "Are you sure that was all they wanted?! Directions?! Even after those insipid children all but spilled the fact that they were from another dimension and knew Nick Fury by name?!"
Pete shrugged, "That's all they said they wanted. Although there isn't a deli on that corner."
Otto glared over his shoulder at the door, "Was it a test, do you think? Or is this a warning? Were they trying to tell us something? That they know we're here and telling us we're under observation?"
Jessica huffed in annoyance, "SHIELD does occasionally go in for that sort of mind game, but why would they? I mean why--"
"Obviously to goad us into acting precipitously!" Otto exclaimed, "We need to begin implementing the changes we discussed in the last meeting! Now! Before they can get further in their investigation of us! Obviously we are attracting too much attention to the building!"
"Y'know, sometimes a guy really just wants directions." Pete observed calmly as Otto stormed out of the lobby and back to the elevator.
Jessica huffed, reaching up to hold her towel in place. "He kicked my door down while I'm in the shower and dragged me down here with no warning at all!"
"No consideration," Pete commiserated. "I'll let Alex know to get your door replaced, first thing, Miss Drew."
"Thank you, Pete." She smiled. "I'm going to go put something on."
"Don't need to on my account." He chuckled and winked at her.
She rolled her eyes and was halfway to the elevator when she turned and asked, "Do you think they were just asking directions?"
"If that's all they wanted," Pete replied, "Why did they feel the need to identify themselves as SHIELD Agents?"
- - -
- - -
Otto grumbled, "Is it just me or are we already starting to run out of room in the lab?"
Aaron nodded. "I suppose so. Susan's taken over the south corner for herself and her children..."
"More little Parkers underfoot." Otto snorted, crossing his arms. "We may as well repurpose the labs as a daycare."
"You realize you started this by taking Peni in as your own little project." Aaron pointed out with a smirk.
Peni herself was in her own corner of the lab, Sp//dr was being held up by a waldo from the ceiling. She was mostly hidden, with her legs hanging out of the open pilot hatch, kicking idly. From within little sparks, soft muttering and the occasional bit of smoke came.
Otto snorted, "Woeful underachiever in need of direction. I swear its in the Parker genetics."
Aaron nodded, "Sad but true."
"I suppose we should be glad that with most of us able to walk on walls, at least the ceilings can still serve as lab space for someone." Otto glanced up where a man in his mid-thirties in a lab coat was sitting in a web-hammock among the waldoes, working on a laptop. His lab coat had a nameplate over the left breast that identified him as "Bruce Banner, Spider-Man, Agent of Shield". The man had been out to the New Mexico for a few weeks to try and find anything familiar, but he'd ended up coming back to the Nest in the end.
"There's still some room in the floor below," Aaron pointed out. "Only thing down there are Miguel's offices and some storage."
"You aren't helping out much by picking up your own little strays." Otto made a dismissive gesture towards a pair of teen-aged Peter Parker lookalikes at one table. Neither of the boys had the lean physique of most of the other Spider-men, but were simply thin. Both were wearing lab coats.
One of them wore a harness that resembled one of Otto's old ones and he was using the tentacles attached to them to hold up a sheet of red and blue material, while he scrutinized it. He had a set of the heads up displays that were starting to become ubiquitous in the lab, but he had a particularly heavy duty goggle-like pair that couldn't be worn as pince-nez and needed heavy straps. He had a nameplate sewn on his coat that said 'Dexter Parker, Spider-Man'.
The other had a withered right arm that was sporting a cybernetic brace allowing it to move with unnatural grace. He wore a pair of reading glasses and seemed to be deeply in discussion with Dexter. His nameplate said, 'Thaddeus Parker'.
"It's as you said. Geniuses in need of direction." Aaron smirked. "Besides, aren't you having fun mentoring a new generation of heroes and giving ourselves all the best toys?"
Otto gave a tiny smirk back, "I have to admit, there is a certain degree of pleasure in that."
"Eureka!" Declared Dexter suddenly.
Aaron turned towards the two boys and raised an eyebrow, "Found something, have we?"
Thaddeus ducked his head hurriedly, his good left arm holding his other arm with its cybernetic brace awkwardly, "Yes, sir, Dr. Aikman. Dr. Parker! I think we figured out what Mr. Yamashiro means when he keeps shouting 'transistors'." He added almost shyly.
Otto palmed his face, "You assigned them to figure out the technology that Japanese idiot uses."
"I figured it couldn't hurt," Aaron shrugged. "And it looks like they actually had a breakthrough. Regale us with your findings, gentlemen."
Dexter's tentacle arms waved the cloth at them, and Otto felt a momentary pang of nostalgia, "We've been examining his Spider Protector--"
"His what?" Otto frowned.
"That's what Takuya-kun calls his costume." Aaron replied with a grin, "Do try to keep up, Otto."
"It looks and feels like spandex, but it isn't." Dexter continued.
Otto rolled his eyes. "That much was obvious..."
Dexter continued excitedly, "It's something like a silk cloth, but embedded into the matrix, part of the weave are a bunch of nanofiber wires that can be made to move in particular ways if you run energy through them. That's what lets the costume wrap around him."
"And they harden in response to impact. Reflex armor, soft most of the time, hard on demand. Probably even harden to act like a splint if he breaks any bones," Thaddeus quietly added.
Dexter took back over, "If we trace the nanowires out, they lead up to nodes that superficially resemble transistors..."
"And probably would've been mistaken for them by someone from 1970." Thaddeus interjected.
"The whole thing," Dexter blurted out, "Is organized like a rudimentary nervous system. I didn't even realize it until I actually held the suit up. The matrix overlays his nervous system when he's wearing it..."
Otto snapped his fingers, "Which explains why he's suddenly so much more coordinated and faster when he's in his suit."
"And serves as a control interface for his that giant mecha of his." Aaron laughed, "I knew there wasn't any way he was controlling it with just the controls in that cockpit. Most of them weren't even connected to anything! The whole thing's practically an extension of his own body."
Peni suddenly appeared among the men, "You're saying you have a cloth-based interface to connect a person to a mecha?"
The four stared at her, startled into sudden silence by her appearance.
She didn't say anything, but made a gesture towards the Sp//dr.
The red spider on her shoulder seemed agitated for a moment. She turned to it and said to it, "No, I'm not trying to replace you, but this might help us get Sp//dr's size down to something that can fit through a normal door!"
"Intriguing," Otto admitted. "Can we duplicate it?"
"It... uh... we hadn't gotten that far, yet, sir." Dexter admitted.
"Good start though, boys. Excellent start." Aaron nodded.
- - -
Otto grumbled, "Is it just me or are we already starting to run out of room in the lab?"
Aaron nodded. "I suppose so. Susan's taken over the south corner for herself and her children..."
"More little Parkers underfoot." Otto snorted, crossing his arms. "We may as well repurpose the labs as a daycare."
"You realize you started this by taking Peni in as your own little project." Aaron pointed out with a smirk.
Peni herself was in her own corner of the lab, Sp//dr was being held up by a waldo from the ceiling. She was mostly hidden, with her legs hanging out of the open pilot hatch, kicking idly. From within little sparks, soft muttering and the occasional bit of smoke came.
Otto snorted, "Woeful underachiever in need of direction. I swear its in the Parker genetics."
Aaron nodded, "Sad but true."
"I suppose we should be glad that with most of us able to walk on walls, at least the ceilings can still serve as lab space for someone." Otto glanced up where a man in his mid-thirties in a lab coat was sitting in a web-hammock among the waldoes, working on a laptop. His lab coat had a nameplate over the left breast that identified him as "Bruce Banner, Spider-Man, Agent of Shield". The man had been out to the New Mexico for a few weeks to try and find anything familiar, but he'd ended up coming back to the Nest in the end.
"There's still some room in the floor below," Aaron pointed out. "Only thing down there are Miguel's offices and some storage."
"You aren't helping out much by picking up your own little strays." Otto made a dismissive gesture towards a pair of teen-aged Peter Parker lookalikes at one table. Neither of the boys had the lean physique of most of the other Spider-men, but were simply thin. Both were wearing lab coats.
One of them wore a harness that resembled one of Otto's old ones and he was using the tentacles attached to them to hold up a sheet of red and blue material, while he scrutinized it. He had a set of the heads up displays that were starting to become ubiquitous in the lab, but he had a particularly heavy duty goggle-like pair that couldn't be worn as pince-nez and needed heavy straps. He had a nameplate sewn on his coat that said 'Dexter Parker, Spider-Man'.
The other had a withered right arm that was sporting a cybernetic brace allowing it to move with unnatural grace. He wore a pair of reading glasses and seemed to be deeply in discussion with Dexter. His nameplate said, 'Thaddeus Parker'.
"It's as you said. Geniuses in need of direction." Aaron smirked. "Besides, aren't you having fun mentoring a new generation of heroes and giving ourselves all the best toys?"
Otto gave a tiny smirk back, "I have to admit, there is a certain degree of pleasure in that."
"Eureka!" Declared Dexter suddenly.
Aaron turned towards the two boys and raised an eyebrow, "Found something, have we?"
Thaddeus ducked his head hurriedly, his good left arm holding his other arm with its cybernetic brace awkwardly, "Yes, sir, Dr. Aikman. Dr. Parker! I think we figured out what Mr. Yamashiro means when he keeps shouting 'transistors'." He added almost shyly.
Otto palmed his face, "You assigned them to figure out the technology that Japanese idiot uses."
"I figured it couldn't hurt," Aaron shrugged. "And it looks like they actually had a breakthrough. Regale us with your findings, gentlemen."
Dexter's tentacle arms waved the cloth at them, and Otto felt a momentary pang of nostalgia, "We've been examining his Spider Protector--"
"His what?" Otto frowned.
"That's what Takuya-kun calls his costume." Aaron replied with a grin, "Do try to keep up, Otto."
"It looks and feels like spandex, but it isn't." Dexter continued.
Otto rolled his eyes. "That much was obvious..."
Dexter continued excitedly, "It's something like a silk cloth, but embedded into the matrix, part of the weave are a bunch of nanofiber wires that can be made to move in particular ways if you run energy through them. That's what lets the costume wrap around him."
"And they harden in response to impact. Reflex armor, soft most of the time, hard on demand. Probably even harden to act like a splint if he breaks any bones," Thaddeus quietly added.
Dexter took back over, "If we trace the nanowires out, they lead up to nodes that superficially resemble transistors..."
"And probably would've been mistaken for them by someone from 1970." Thaddeus interjected.
"The whole thing," Dexter blurted out, "Is organized like a rudimentary nervous system. I didn't even realize it until I actually held the suit up. The matrix overlays his nervous system when he's wearing it..."
Otto snapped his fingers, "Which explains why he's suddenly so much more coordinated and faster when he's in his suit."
"And serves as a control interface for his that giant mecha of his." Aaron laughed, "I knew there wasn't any way he was controlling it with just the controls in that cockpit. Most of them weren't even connected to anything! The whole thing's practically an extension of his own body."
Peni suddenly appeared among the men, "You're saying you have a cloth-based interface to connect a person to a mecha?"
The four stared at her, startled into sudden silence by her appearance.
She didn't say anything, but made a gesture towards the Sp//dr.
The red spider on her shoulder seemed agitated for a moment. She turned to it and said to it, "No, I'm not trying to replace you, but this might help us get Sp//dr's size down to something that can fit through a normal door!"
"Intriguing," Otto admitted. "Can we duplicate it?"
"It... uh... we hadn't gotten that far, yet, sir." Dexter admitted.
"Good start though, boys. Excellent start." Aaron nodded.
- - -
- - -
The building did not originally have a basement.
Given that this was New York and there should have been subway tunnels and various utilities and so forth under the building. It did. But beneath all of that, deeper down, past all the city infrastructure, past all the parts of the city that were already buried deep, down into the very bedrock of Manhattan itself... it had found its way there.
Once it was there, it had somehow cleared some extra space around itself. Otto was pulling his hair in frustration and Aaron had done his best to calm the volatile man down when they had discovered it. Or more precisely when the exuberant Takuya had loudly announced that despite their sudden departure from his reality, his space ship had followed them to this New York.
His giant, leopard-headed, transforming space ship.
No one was sure how exactly it had managed to get under the building. They only knew it was there because Takuya claimed that his Spider-Bracelet had told him that the ship, the Marveller, was now beneath them.
It had somehow hollowed out a cavity for itself and cleared a rough space around itself of a hundred yards of extra space in every direction. Spider-robots and dedicated teams of press-ganged Spider-construction workers had had to dig a tunnel down to where the ship was.
Miguel had taken one look at the large open space surrounding the ship and declared that they were moving common facilities and rec areas down to the newly available space.
That set off another flurry of construction as the bare rock of the cavern had to be leveled out with concrete, and a proper elevator had been set up in the tunnel. A few of the Spiders had actually suggested leaving the tunnel as-is since most of them could walk down the wall normally, but the handful of non-powered Spider-folks and the slightly larger number of lazier Spiders, sensibly pointed out that given how far the tunnel extended, an elevator just made more sense.
So it was that a few Parkers and others who had construction experience set to work on refurbishing the space ship garage into a full recreational center. Someone (a survivalist Spider-woman from a post-apocalyptic New York) had even managed to set up a small garden using artificial lights as well as a pool, additions welcomed by all.
- - -
Mornings usually had a rush for the Rec Center elevator. A number of the Spiders did their morning exercises there. It was better than the rooftop and the small gym that the building originally had was far too cramped to be enjoyable to use.
By poolside, on the wide, grassy area right before the garden proper, one of the Spiders led a small group through a series of tai-chi forms with a serene confidence. In a general way he looked like a Peter Parker. He wore sweats that were obviously for someone smaller, with the pant legs ending mid-calf. He had a pair of fuzzy white bunny slippers and a tanktop showing a lean and muscular physique. Parts of an immense spider tattoo peeked out from the edges of the tanktop across his back. His skin had the pallor of someone who didn't get enough sun and his hair was a very dark brown that was almost black.
The rest of the group following his movements did so with a wide range of competence and grace, but most managed it. If only barely.
Finally he lowered his hands as he completed the final move, and brought his legs together, standing straight. He gave a small, wry smile and said in a quiet, whispery voice that sounded faintly like paper rustling, "Excellent, everyone. I'm glad to see all of your progress. You in particular, Thaddeus." His tone was mellow, but the slithering, sibilant whisper to it seemed tailor made to send shivers down a person's spine. "You kept up all the way through today. Well done. Peni, you need to let the movements flow, you were rushing just a bit."
"Yosh!" A Japanese man from the front of the group, wearing loose sweats and a T-shirt with Japanese writing on it, took two bounding steps forward and pumped his fist into the air, "Now that Bruce-sifu has gotten us warmed up, are we ready to get our blood pumping good and hot?!" He yelled.
A few cries, some enthusiastic, others less so sounded. One boy with Eurasian features raised his own fist in excitement, "Yeah!"
Takuya pointed at the boy and declared, "Good spirit, Ryu!"
Bruce bowed to Takuya and said, "I leave our class in your capable hands, Takuya-sensei."
Takuya straightened up with a snap and returned the bow, proclaiming, "I shall endeavor to get them fired up, Bruce-sifu!"
He then faced the group and clapped his hands sharply, "Alright, everyone! We'll begin with punches!" He dropped to a karate stance, then yelled once more, "Begin!"
- - -
Nearby, May had to keep her hyperactive three year old brother attached to her fingertips with her powers to keep him from running off. "Slow down, champ!"
"Karate!" Benjy declared enthusiastically, "Pumped!"
She rolled her eyes and smiled at Sue who was walking next to her poolside. Her own kids, enthusiastic five-year olds that they were, were running around her and May and Benjy the whole while.
"Is it too much to hope that he grows out of this anytime soon?" May asked Sue.
Sue laughed, then jerked a thumb at Franklin and Valeria as they ran up to the side of the pool, stood next to it just long enough to dip their bare toes in the water, then ran back to them. Benjy meanwhile kept insisting on going to the 'Karate'. "Mine still haven't grown out of it."
May shook her head, "It's kind of funny seeing Franklin like this... well, this Franklin anyway."
"What do you mean?" Sue asked.
"The one from my timeline was in his twenties." She blushed slightly.
Sue chuckled, "You were involved with him?"
"No, no! We were flirting right up til he found out I was fifteen at the time." May admitted.
Sue laughed out loud at that, "And here he's kind of your half-brother."
May nodded. This elicited another cry of "Karate!" from Benjy.
She picked him up by using her adhesion by the back of his shirt and walked over to the pool, dangling him above the water, to his delighted screams.
"If you don't calm down, kiddo, I'm going to toss you in." May said with mock sternness.
His eyes got really big and round and he exclaimed with giggles, "You wouldn't!"
Franklin and Valeria both laughed and applauded, calling out, "Do it! Do it!"
Sue rolled her eyes and caught her children both up in her own force field and held them invisibly above the water, "You two need to calm down too or you're going in after him."
- - -
The building did not originally have a basement.
Given that this was New York and there should have been subway tunnels and various utilities and so forth under the building. It did. But beneath all of that, deeper down, past all the city infrastructure, past all the parts of the city that were already buried deep, down into the very bedrock of Manhattan itself... it had found its way there.
Once it was there, it had somehow cleared some extra space around itself. Otto was pulling his hair in frustration and Aaron had done his best to calm the volatile man down when they had discovered it. Or more precisely when the exuberant Takuya had loudly announced that despite their sudden departure from his reality, his space ship had followed them to this New York.
His giant, leopard-headed, transforming space ship.
No one was sure how exactly it had managed to get under the building. They only knew it was there because Takuya claimed that his Spider-Bracelet had told him that the ship, the Marveller, was now beneath them.
It had somehow hollowed out a cavity for itself and cleared a rough space around itself of a hundred yards of extra space in every direction. Spider-robots and dedicated teams of press-ganged Spider-construction workers had had to dig a tunnel down to where the ship was.
Miguel had taken one look at the large open space surrounding the ship and declared that they were moving common facilities and rec areas down to the newly available space.
That set off another flurry of construction as the bare rock of the cavern had to be leveled out with concrete, and a proper elevator had been set up in the tunnel. A few of the Spiders had actually suggested leaving the tunnel as-is since most of them could walk down the wall normally, but the handful of non-powered Spider-folks and the slightly larger number of lazier Spiders, sensibly pointed out that given how far the tunnel extended, an elevator just made more sense.
So it was that a few Parkers and others who had construction experience set to work on refurbishing the space ship garage into a full recreational center. Someone (a survivalist Spider-woman from a post-apocalyptic New York) had even managed to set up a small garden using artificial lights as well as a pool, additions welcomed by all.
- - -
Mornings usually had a rush for the Rec Center elevator. A number of the Spiders did their morning exercises there. It was better than the rooftop and the small gym that the building originally had was far too cramped to be enjoyable to use.
By poolside, on the wide, grassy area right before the garden proper, one of the Spiders led a small group through a series of tai-chi forms with a serene confidence. In a general way he looked like a Peter Parker. He wore sweats that were obviously for someone smaller, with the pant legs ending mid-calf. He had a pair of fuzzy white bunny slippers and a tanktop showing a lean and muscular physique. Parts of an immense spider tattoo peeked out from the edges of the tanktop across his back. His skin had the pallor of someone who didn't get enough sun and his hair was a very dark brown that was almost black.
The rest of the group following his movements did so with a wide range of competence and grace, but most managed it. If only barely.
Finally he lowered his hands as he completed the final move, and brought his legs together, standing straight. He gave a small, wry smile and said in a quiet, whispery voice that sounded faintly like paper rustling, "Excellent, everyone. I'm glad to see all of your progress. You in particular, Thaddeus." His tone was mellow, but the slithering, sibilant whisper to it seemed tailor made to send shivers down a person's spine. "You kept up all the way through today. Well done. Peni, you need to let the movements flow, you were rushing just a bit."
"Yosh!" A Japanese man from the front of the group, wearing loose sweats and a T-shirt with Japanese writing on it, took two bounding steps forward and pumped his fist into the air, "Now that Bruce-sifu has gotten us warmed up, are we ready to get our blood pumping good and hot?!" He yelled.
A few cries, some enthusiastic, others less so sounded. One boy with Eurasian features raised his own fist in excitement, "Yeah!"
Takuya pointed at the boy and declared, "Good spirit, Ryu!"
Bruce bowed to Takuya and said, "I leave our class in your capable hands, Takuya-sensei."
Takuya straightened up with a snap and returned the bow, proclaiming, "I shall endeavor to get them fired up, Bruce-sifu!"
He then faced the group and clapped his hands sharply, "Alright, everyone! We'll begin with punches!" He dropped to a karate stance, then yelled once more, "Begin!"
- - -
Nearby, May had to keep her hyperactive three year old brother attached to her fingertips with her powers to keep him from running off. "Slow down, champ!"
"Karate!" Benjy declared enthusiastically, "Pumped!"
She rolled her eyes and smiled at Sue who was walking next to her poolside. Her own kids, enthusiastic five-year olds that they were, were running around her and May and Benjy the whole while.
"Is it too much to hope that he grows out of this anytime soon?" May asked Sue.
Sue laughed, then jerked a thumb at Franklin and Valeria as they ran up to the side of the pool, stood next to it just long enough to dip their bare toes in the water, then ran back to them. Benjy meanwhile kept insisting on going to the 'Karate'. "Mine still haven't grown out of it."
May shook her head, "It's kind of funny seeing Franklin like this... well, this Franklin anyway."
"What do you mean?" Sue asked.
"The one from my timeline was in his twenties." She blushed slightly.
Sue chuckled, "You were involved with him?"
"No, no! We were flirting right up til he found out I was fifteen at the time." May admitted.
Sue laughed out loud at that, "And here he's kind of your half-brother."
May nodded. This elicited another cry of "Karate!" from Benjy.
She picked him up by using her adhesion by the back of his shirt and walked over to the pool, dangling him above the water, to his delighted screams.
"If you don't calm down, kiddo, I'm going to toss you in." May said with mock sternness.
His eyes got really big and round and he exclaimed with giggles, "You wouldn't!"
Franklin and Valeria both laughed and applauded, calling out, "Do it! Do it!"
Sue rolled her eyes and caught her children both up in her own force field and held them invisibly above the water, "You two need to calm down too or you're going in after him."
- - -
Question, can Original/Semi-Original Spider-Dudes be used?
I have a few ideas, and I need to ask before hand.
I have a few ideas, and I need to ask before hand.
I just had a glorious idea...
but I have to take a shower and get some chow.
but I have to take a shower and get some chow.
TriviaFreak
Time of reluctance.
How did I miss this until now?!?
I'd like to repeat that some of these chapters were partly prompted by suggestions and joking on the OTHER version of this thread on SB. Feel free to get prompts on here too to confuse them.
- - -
"All I'm saying is, we got away, but I would be really surprised if they don't correlate us with the sudden upsurge in variant Spider-men and women in New York." James explained over the Web-Link to the New York Spider-crew. The latest thing out of Parker Enterprises. A secure, global wireless communication network, that projected a holographic image of the person you were speaking to. They expected to be able to put it out a commercial model inside of a year or so.
The fact that they'd had to put it into place by lifting their own satellites in orbit rather than try to ride on existing cell networks was what James found most impressive. Then again one of them had a space-ship, so what was normally difficult, became trivial to the combined resources of the Spiders.
Gran'pa Pete had his arms crossed over his chest and a sour, but thoughtful, expression on his face. "Well, that explains why those SHIELD agents showed up then."
"This is an unmitigated disaster!" Otto exclaimed, palming his face. "What were you imbeciles even doing preparing to assassinate a Latverian agent anyway?!"
James shrugged, "Because he needed killing." He paused. "Obviously."
"Obviously," Otto echoed sarcastically.
"Well, it's done," Miguel said with a slashing motion of his hand, "We can talk about blame later. What do we do?"
"They're still watching us," Pete pointed out. "They've got an office in the building across the street."
"How did you...?" Miguel began to ask, but Pete interrupted.
"Walter noticed them when he visited last time."
Otto began cursing luridly.
Pete nodded. "I'm thinking we need to get Pete to call his contacts. Give us a formal intro."
"Is that really a good idea?" Miguel asked. "I thought we wanted to maintain a low profile."
Pete inclined his head, "Have you seen the papers? Or seen the websites? Or checked out a news program in the last week or so? We're already all over the news."
Otto grumbled, "It is terrible that we have to go to Prime Parker for assistance with what should be a trivial--"
Pete interrupted, "Look, we're the visitors here. Last thing we want is for SHIELD to get it into their head that we're hostile or something they need to put down."
"Never mind that we're essentially a massive superhuman conspiracy hiding in the middle of Manhattan with agents travelling all over the world," James pointed out dryly.
"You aren't even 'our' agents. You're carrying out your own agenda!" Otto snarled.
"Yep. Plausible deniability," James grinned.
Pete rolled his eyes, "I'll get Peter on the line. We're gonna need him to vouch for us when we call SHIELD or the Avengers or somebody."
"I thought you were buddy-buddy with Barton ever since you introduced him to his daughter." Miguel pointed out. "Isn't he with SHIELD?"
"Yeah, but technically, he isn't really family, y'know?"
- - -
"Let me get this straight. We're dealing with a potential crisis with SHIELD, we have multiple children randomly attempting to figure out how to get their respective mothers to seduce Parker Prime, I've got a half-dozen projects all demanding my attention and you're asking me to do what, exactly?" Aaron looked down his nose at the cheerful Parker who was grinning at him. Normally he was happy to let Otto field the annoying requests from the other Spider-men and women, but he was in a meeting and couldn't be disturbed.
"I just need to hook up the cross-dimensional transmission equipment to the Web-Links for a holoconference setup... possibly with additional physical props with correspondences across the virtual table. Basically we need items mirrored across the divide," The other man explained with a great deal of extraneous gesturing.
"What name were you using, again?" Aaron asked, taking that moment to puzzle out exactly what the other man was asking for.
"Ivan." He replied, "Someone thought it would be clever since the roman numeral for Four is I-V..."
"You're Susan's husband." Aaron realized.
"Yep."
"... you want to use our equipment to set up a cross-timeline poker game, don't you?" Aaron said accusingly as the last piece fell into place.
"Pretty much."
Aaron sighed, "It actually would be an interesting technical exercise..."
- - -
- - -
May flopped bonelessly on one of the rec-room couches in obvious exhaustion. Technically, there were a lot of potential Spider-Uncles, Aunts, cousins and multitudinous babysitters to help her keep track of her little rug-rat of a brother, but at the end of the day she was the one who was ultimately responsible for him.
If there was anything Spiders took seriously it was responsibility.
She was still a teen-ager. She really didn't want to be responsible for Benjy. She loved him dearly. He was her brother after all and he was adorable, but he was also a toddler.
A hyperactive toddler who could generate webbing from his fingertips.
It was bad enough when he was just crawling around and May could remember her mom having to chase Benjy out from under the couch or from behind the TV. Now she was dealing with a child who could run on the floor, the walls and the ceiling.
And the sneaky little brat had gotten very good making weblines to spring himself directly up from the floor to the ceiling.
If she took her eyes off him for a second he'd vanish.
Then he'd giggle annoyingly once she found him.
"Are you sure I can't just web him up when he gets up in the morning and cut him loose before bed?" May grumbled.
She glanced up. Benjy was on the ceiling swinging himself back and forth by a webline. Cling to his shoulder, waving its forelegs in an approximation of excitement was a palm-sized red spider.
May had long since given up on getting freaked out about where he was since he was better with heights than she was and she was certain she could catch him with a webline before he hit the ground if he did happen to slip and fall.
And freaking out about a spider in the Nest was ridiculous.
Peni, partner to the spider keeping Benjy company, was sitting on the other end of the couch, fiddling with some small bits of electronics from the lab. She looked up and smiled indulgently at the older girl, "You don't mean that."
"I mostly don't, but some part of me REALLY wants to." May pointed out. "Maybe I can pop him over to some alternate fast-time dimension for an hour or so and he comes back a teenager."
"Then he will be even more annoying," Peni pointed out.
"Also," Jessica Parker said, plopping herself onto the opposite sofa, "As someone who had an effective childhood that lasted only a week, I feel I should point out that it's a terrible idea."
"Wait, you had a week-long childhood?" May asked in confusion.
"Technically I don't remember it, since I was in a coma the whole time they were growing me." Jessica explained.
Peni pointed to Jessica and distractedly added, "Spider-clone."
"Oh, right." May nodded.
"Here." Peni said and handed May a small reddish piece of plastic shaped like a spider. The legs ended in little burrs and tines that looked like they were meant to catch on cloth.
"What's this?" May asked in confusion.
"Attach it to him. Probably his underwear." Peni explained. "Spider-tracer. It should be tuned to your Spider-sense."
"This is so awesome!" May exclaimed holding the plastic spider up and realized she could actually sense the plastic spider in her hand.
Peni ducked her head and blushed slightly.
"That was awfully nice of you, Peni." Jessica grinned.
"Actually, Dr. Parker asked me to figure out some way to keep Benjy out of the lab." Peni replied. "He keeps coming up there to visit Ben and Valeria."
"That's a security elevator. How does he even--?" Jessica began to ask, but May sighed and cut her off.
"They leave the window open." May pointed up and sighed, "He can walk on walls."
"I thought this would help you and maybe keep him from getting in there. It can get dangerous." Peni said seriously.
"No, this is great. I'll definitely be able to follo--" She looked up again to a severe absence of toddler.
"As soon as I can find him to put this on him!" She moaned as she levered herself off the couch and started the hunt for Benjy once more.
- - -
- - -
"All I'm saying is, we got away, but I would be really surprised if they don't correlate us with the sudden upsurge in variant Spider-men and women in New York." James explained over the Web-Link to the New York Spider-crew. The latest thing out of Parker Enterprises. A secure, global wireless communication network, that projected a holographic image of the person you were speaking to. They expected to be able to put it out a commercial model inside of a year or so.
The fact that they'd had to put it into place by lifting their own satellites in orbit rather than try to ride on existing cell networks was what James found most impressive. Then again one of them had a space-ship, so what was normally difficult, became trivial to the combined resources of the Spiders.
Gran'pa Pete had his arms crossed over his chest and a sour, but thoughtful, expression on his face. "Well, that explains why those SHIELD agents showed up then."
"This is an unmitigated disaster!" Otto exclaimed, palming his face. "What were you imbeciles even doing preparing to assassinate a Latverian agent anyway?!"
James shrugged, "Because he needed killing." He paused. "Obviously."
"Obviously," Otto echoed sarcastically.
"Well, it's done," Miguel said with a slashing motion of his hand, "We can talk about blame later. What do we do?"
"They're still watching us," Pete pointed out. "They've got an office in the building across the street."
"How did you...?" Miguel began to ask, but Pete interrupted.
"Walter noticed them when he visited last time."
Otto began cursing luridly.
Pete nodded. "I'm thinking we need to get Pete to call his contacts. Give us a formal intro."
"Is that really a good idea?" Miguel asked. "I thought we wanted to maintain a low profile."
Pete inclined his head, "Have you seen the papers? Or seen the websites? Or checked out a news program in the last week or so? We're already all over the news."
Otto grumbled, "It is terrible that we have to go to Prime Parker for assistance with what should be a trivial--"
Pete interrupted, "Look, we're the visitors here. Last thing we want is for SHIELD to get it into their head that we're hostile or something they need to put down."
"Never mind that we're essentially a massive superhuman conspiracy hiding in the middle of Manhattan with agents travelling all over the world," James pointed out dryly.
"You aren't even 'our' agents. You're carrying out your own agenda!" Otto snarled.
"Yep. Plausible deniability," James grinned.
Pete rolled his eyes, "I'll get Peter on the line. We're gonna need him to vouch for us when we call SHIELD or the Avengers or somebody."
"I thought you were buddy-buddy with Barton ever since you introduced him to his daughter." Miguel pointed out. "Isn't he with SHIELD?"
"Yeah, but technically, he isn't really family, y'know?"
- - -
"Let me get this straight. We're dealing with a potential crisis with SHIELD, we have multiple children randomly attempting to figure out how to get their respective mothers to seduce Parker Prime, I've got a half-dozen projects all demanding my attention and you're asking me to do what, exactly?" Aaron looked down his nose at the cheerful Parker who was grinning at him. Normally he was happy to let Otto field the annoying requests from the other Spider-men and women, but he was in a meeting and couldn't be disturbed.
"I just need to hook up the cross-dimensional transmission equipment to the Web-Links for a holoconference setup... possibly with additional physical props with correspondences across the virtual table. Basically we need items mirrored across the divide," The other man explained with a great deal of extraneous gesturing.
"What name were you using, again?" Aaron asked, taking that moment to puzzle out exactly what the other man was asking for.
"Ivan." He replied, "Someone thought it would be clever since the roman numeral for Four is I-V..."
"You're Susan's husband." Aaron realized.
"Yep."
"... you want to use our equipment to set up a cross-timeline poker game, don't you?" Aaron said accusingly as the last piece fell into place.
"Pretty much."
Aaron sighed, "It actually would be an interesting technical exercise..."
- - -
- - -
May flopped bonelessly on one of the rec-room couches in obvious exhaustion. Technically, there were a lot of potential Spider-Uncles, Aunts, cousins and multitudinous babysitters to help her keep track of her little rug-rat of a brother, but at the end of the day she was the one who was ultimately responsible for him.
If there was anything Spiders took seriously it was responsibility.
She was still a teen-ager. She really didn't want to be responsible for Benjy. She loved him dearly. He was her brother after all and he was adorable, but he was also a toddler.
A hyperactive toddler who could generate webbing from his fingertips.
It was bad enough when he was just crawling around and May could remember her mom having to chase Benjy out from under the couch or from behind the TV. Now she was dealing with a child who could run on the floor, the walls and the ceiling.
And the sneaky little brat had gotten very good making weblines to spring himself directly up from the floor to the ceiling.
If she took her eyes off him for a second he'd vanish.
Then he'd giggle annoyingly once she found him.
"Are you sure I can't just web him up when he gets up in the morning and cut him loose before bed?" May grumbled.
She glanced up. Benjy was on the ceiling swinging himself back and forth by a webline. Cling to his shoulder, waving its forelegs in an approximation of excitement was a palm-sized red spider.
May had long since given up on getting freaked out about where he was since he was better with heights than she was and she was certain she could catch him with a webline before he hit the ground if he did happen to slip and fall.
And freaking out about a spider in the Nest was ridiculous.
Peni, partner to the spider keeping Benjy company, was sitting on the other end of the couch, fiddling with some small bits of electronics from the lab. She looked up and smiled indulgently at the older girl, "You don't mean that."
"I mostly don't, but some part of me REALLY wants to." May pointed out. "Maybe I can pop him over to some alternate fast-time dimension for an hour or so and he comes back a teenager."
"Then he will be even more annoying," Peni pointed out.
"Also," Jessica Parker said, plopping herself onto the opposite sofa, "As someone who had an effective childhood that lasted only a week, I feel I should point out that it's a terrible idea."
"Wait, you had a week-long childhood?" May asked in confusion.
"Technically I don't remember it, since I was in a coma the whole time they were growing me." Jessica explained.
Peni pointed to Jessica and distractedly added, "Spider-clone."
"Oh, right." May nodded.
"Here." Peni said and handed May a small reddish piece of plastic shaped like a spider. The legs ended in little burrs and tines that looked like they were meant to catch on cloth.
"What's this?" May asked in confusion.
"Attach it to him. Probably his underwear." Peni explained. "Spider-tracer. It should be tuned to your Spider-sense."
"This is so awesome!" May exclaimed holding the plastic spider up and realized she could actually sense the plastic spider in her hand.
Peni ducked her head and blushed slightly.
"That was awfully nice of you, Peni." Jessica grinned.
"Actually, Dr. Parker asked me to figure out some way to keep Benjy out of the lab." Peni replied. "He keeps coming up there to visit Ben and Valeria."
"That's a security elevator. How does he even--?" Jessica began to ask, but May sighed and cut her off.
"They leave the window open." May pointed up and sighed, "He can walk on walls."
"I thought this would help you and maybe keep him from getting in there. It can get dangerous." Peni said seriously.
"No, this is great. I'll definitely be able to follo--" She looked up again to a severe absence of toddler.
"As soon as I can find him to put this on him!" She moaned as she levered herself off the couch and started the hunt for Benjy once more.
- - -