"Spider-Man," the voice boomed from the helicopter's loudspeaker, "this is the Memorial City...
Spider-Man: A Changing of Minds
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"Spider-Man," the voice boomed from the helicopter's loudspeaker, "this is the Memorial City Police Department. Stand down!"
Peter smiled under his mask, and flipped up into the over, swinging up above the copter, and firing a burst right into the chopper. A bit petty, but he felt like it. "Why don't you go after the giant dude in a rhino suit? He was the one committing the crime. You can't be that below your quota!" Tucking and rolling, Peter fired a web onto one of the many cranes lining what's left of Wall Street, and pulled himself into a ninety-degree turn.
"Spider-Man! Lethal force has been enabled! Surrender, now!"
"Pfft, if that Rhino-Man couldn't stop me, you guys don't stand a chance," Peter quipped, pulling on the web to fly high above the helicopters that had followed him down William Street. "Really, shouldn't I be giving the warnings to you?" Free falling, he shot past the two helicopters, letting bursts of web clog up their underslung weapons, before shooting a line onto a still-partially-in-construction skyscraper, pulling himself forward and shooting pass the pursuing MCPD vehicles.
He wasn't far now, only thirty blocks or so from the crater, and there only a dozen more to the survival zone, where all the shielded buildings had been clustered. There were still enough folks living there that Peter could change and lose himself in the crowd. Then, catch a bus and be back in Queens in time for Aunt May's homemade dinner. Easy.
Peter felt a tingle in his scalp and instinctually tucked himself into a ball and rolled forward, narrowly dodging between a hail of bullets. "Hey, I'm walking here," he yelled. "Well, I'm swinging here, but the same idea applies!" The third helicopter, descending from above, had tried to come out of the sun towards him, but clearly hadn't counted on his oh-so-awesome powers. You'd think by now they would have, but clearly Colonel Jameson's troops hadn't managed to teach the MCPD anything by the time they had to hand the city back over to the boys in blue.
Spidey fired a web line obliquely into another crane, turning high above him, and pulled himself forwards. Letting the line go slack, he shot up, firing a line into the underside of the helicopter and pulling up. He extended a foot and flew into the open side of the aircraft, letting the tingle in his scalp guide his fists. Under the uniformed cop's truncheon, and into his stomach, then turning past a bullet and knocking the gunner back into the wall. "A billy club, man? This isn't Victorian England." He let himself fall backwards out of the helicopter towards ground level, leaping from the top of car to car as he bound onto Broadway.
"Well," Peter said to no one in particular, "that was perhaps less fun then I'd imagined my current extracurricular activity would be." He fired another web line as he vaguely heard the approaching sound of rotors again, trying to gain distance on his pursuers. "But hey, at least Rhino didn't rob the bank. And-" Peter paused as he fired off another web-line, landing on the immense statues of the Avengers Memorial, each as big as the Statue of Liberty, "no one took my backpack! Sheesh, the amount I've spent on new school supplies alone…"
Hanging from one hand under the hammer, he reached under his shirt to grab the spray to dissolve webbing early. Slinging his backpack on, Peter leapt up onto the hammer, then jumped up onto an antenna, where he surveyed down the streets. No more cop cars than usual and except for the usual whine of the Baxter Building's shields processing radiation in the crater, Memorial City was as bustling as it was in the old days. Which was strange, because Peter's scalp was tingling in the ever-so-familiar warning of his Spider-Sense.
Peter looked left.
Nothing.
Peter looked right.
Nothing.
Peter turned around.
Hovering on freakishly quiet engines, a matte black plane stood in the avenue. Peter didn't need to see more. He'd been on the web-boards, he'd heard what that kid in Chicago had posted until whomever it was had vanished. Doug had emailed him a video, even. Sentinel Services.
Spider-Man ran. He leapt off the Avengers Memorial, firing web-line after web-line in rapid succession, as he skirted the edge of the crater at top speed. He felt rather then heard the aircraft accelerating to pursue him, and in uncharacteristic silence Peter did his best to go faster, the newly unfamiliar skyline of Memorial City becoming a blur as he leapt, and swung, and maneuvered uptown. The plan hadn't changed – get to a crowd, get street clothes on, get home. Now he just had to do it faster. Or . . .
Peter fired another line, onto an extended crane, and flipped, turning back towards the aircraft. The street wasn't crowded, but there were still people there, so he'd have to guide it down, after. In the apex of the flip, Peter fired a web-line into the plane's cockpit, and pulled himself forwards. He smashed into the cockpit, knocking out the copilot with an offhand blow. Leaping forwards, he entered the crew area, where both side doors were already slung open. There was only a single crewman, in black sentinel service fatigues. His eyes widened in surprise as Peter walked towards him, and he made a desperate lunge for a headset.
Peter cut him off, and held him tightly with one hand. "This plane is empty! Where are the rest of you? Talk, now!"
The technician gestured with a shaking hand towards the open bay doors. "W-we r-released them, all-already. S-standard two-item t-team, re-reliable ones, too."
Peter raised an eyebrow under his mask. "Two of what?"
The plane shook with an impact as his question was answered. It spiraled towards the ground, jarring Peter off his feet. He recovered quickly, throwing himself out of the bay door and firing web lines as fast as he could, connecting the falling aircraft to the construction equipment above it, trying to halt its descent, or at least slow it down. One by one the webs strained as they connected to the plane, strained but held. Peter fired another web-line to bring himself around and let loose another barrage, holding the plane in place with a dozen more lines.
He let himself fall to the ground to admire his handiwork, going to a knee for a moment as he sagged in exhaustion. Then, he quickly backflipped away as the tingle in his scalp returned for quickly. A steel fist passed through the air where he stood a second ago, and as his Spider-Sense fired off again, he quickly leapt over a rocket-like projectile that nearly hit him.
"Well," Spidey said, "there are two of them." In black leather, studded with spikes, his foes were fearsome looking, no doubt. Red tattooed lines radiated across their faces, and a droning voice emanated from the speakers embedded in their collars.
"Illegal mutant. You are in contravention of the Patriot Memorial Act. These Hounds are empowered to take custody of you."
As the voice went on, the first of the Hounds, a blond man with a crew cut, propelled himself forwards in a straight line, the sound of his blasting overpowering the monotonous speaker.
"You know, I'm not even a mutant," Peter said as he leapt over the Hound, "you could do some fact-checking first. And –" he fired a web-line, connecting the rocketing teenager to a piece of debris and pulling him off course "it's not like I'm doing anything people object to. It's crime-fighting, not crime-causing." He caught a blow from the second Hound, a teenaged girl who appeared to be made of metal. in with his right hand, holding her fist tight.
"And frankly, I'm a little disappointed. These are the folks you decided to send against me?" Before the Hound could throw a punch with her second hand, Peter twisted his arm, trying to throw the Hound to the ground. Instead her skin tore off as he twisted, revealing a green, roiling substance. Peter's scalp tingled, as the Hound flicked her hand to send droplets towards him. He leaned, ready to jump out of the way, when a splitting headache broke across his mind.
It was what like what he imagined getting shot was like, utterly and horrifyingly painful. A second later, it was gone, but by then the acidic drops were boiling holes through his costume and burning his chest. Peter stumbled to the side, the broken straps of his backpack slipping off and onto the ground. The first Hound impacted, pushing Peter into a car and insensate for a moment, his awareness slipping as the male hound punched him again and again and again. He wasn't stronger then a normal human, Peter thought, but it still hurt, and that field of his made it impossible for Peter to strike back.
The female Hound came forward, flicking her hand again to spill more acid across Peter's chest. The Spider-symbol was all but burned away by now, and Peter could smell what was happening to him just as much as he could feel it.
Then, they stopped. For a moment, the two Hounds looked at each other, their eyes clearing of their aggression, as if they were about to say something, till a blink sound cut across the street. A female voice called out to Peter, who stumbled to his feet.
"Come on!" A girl stood in a purple, glowing, portal, which looked out onto an entirely different scene, one inside some building. The girl itself was wearing all black leather, pants and a crop top, with brilliantly red hair in bangs and a pony-tail. "I can't hold them forever, come on!"
Peter assessed the situation quickly – evil bdsm soldiers on one hand, and what appears to be an ally of some sort on the other. It was an easy choice. Firing webs as he ran, Peter bound the feet of the two Hounds to the street and went with the girl through the portal.
It closed shut just as Peter finished going through it, and he turned to the strange girl. "Who are you, and where am I?"
"Welcome, Spider-Man." The girl brushed aside her hair, revealing a red diamond shaped bindi, which contrasted sharply with her pale white skin. "Call me . . . call me Jean."
----------
Hey. Obv, this is a chapter one, not a done and finished thing. It's – clearly – an AU, but one that I have plotted out from a individual point of division, not just invented as a status quo. If you want to wait and hear that in the story, you're welcome to, if you want to just have me tell y'all now, then I'll do that.
Peter smiled under his mask, and flipped up into the over, swinging up above the copter, and firing a burst right into the chopper. A bit petty, but he felt like it. "Why don't you go after the giant dude in a rhino suit? He was the one committing the crime. You can't be that below your quota!" Tucking and rolling, Peter fired a web onto one of the many cranes lining what's left of Wall Street, and pulled himself into a ninety-degree turn.
"Spider-Man! Lethal force has been enabled! Surrender, now!"
"Pfft, if that Rhino-Man couldn't stop me, you guys don't stand a chance," Peter quipped, pulling on the web to fly high above the helicopters that had followed him down William Street. "Really, shouldn't I be giving the warnings to you?" Free falling, he shot past the two helicopters, letting bursts of web clog up their underslung weapons, before shooting a line onto a still-partially-in-construction skyscraper, pulling himself forward and shooting pass the pursuing MCPD vehicles.
He wasn't far now, only thirty blocks or so from the crater, and there only a dozen more to the survival zone, where all the shielded buildings had been clustered. There were still enough folks living there that Peter could change and lose himself in the crowd. Then, catch a bus and be back in Queens in time for Aunt May's homemade dinner. Easy.
Peter felt a tingle in his scalp and instinctually tucked himself into a ball and rolled forward, narrowly dodging between a hail of bullets. "Hey, I'm walking here," he yelled. "Well, I'm swinging here, but the same idea applies!" The third helicopter, descending from above, had tried to come out of the sun towards him, but clearly hadn't counted on his oh-so-awesome powers. You'd think by now they would have, but clearly Colonel Jameson's troops hadn't managed to teach the MCPD anything by the time they had to hand the city back over to the boys in blue.
Spidey fired a web line obliquely into another crane, turning high above him, and pulled himself forwards. Letting the line go slack, he shot up, firing a line into the underside of the helicopter and pulling up. He extended a foot and flew into the open side of the aircraft, letting the tingle in his scalp guide his fists. Under the uniformed cop's truncheon, and into his stomach, then turning past a bullet and knocking the gunner back into the wall. "A billy club, man? This isn't Victorian England." He let himself fall backwards out of the helicopter towards ground level, leaping from the top of car to car as he bound onto Broadway.
"Well," Peter said to no one in particular, "that was perhaps less fun then I'd imagined my current extracurricular activity would be." He fired another web line as he vaguely heard the approaching sound of rotors again, trying to gain distance on his pursuers. "But hey, at least Rhino didn't rob the bank. And-" Peter paused as he fired off another web-line, landing on the immense statues of the Avengers Memorial, each as big as the Statue of Liberty, "no one took my backpack! Sheesh, the amount I've spent on new school supplies alone…"
Hanging from one hand under the hammer, he reached under his shirt to grab the spray to dissolve webbing early. Slinging his backpack on, Peter leapt up onto the hammer, then jumped up onto an antenna, where he surveyed down the streets. No more cop cars than usual and except for the usual whine of the Baxter Building's shields processing radiation in the crater, Memorial City was as bustling as it was in the old days. Which was strange, because Peter's scalp was tingling in the ever-so-familiar warning of his Spider-Sense.
Peter looked left.
Nothing.
Peter looked right.
Nothing.
Peter turned around.
Hovering on freakishly quiet engines, a matte black plane stood in the avenue. Peter didn't need to see more. He'd been on the web-boards, he'd heard what that kid in Chicago had posted until whomever it was had vanished. Doug had emailed him a video, even. Sentinel Services.
Spider-Man ran. He leapt off the Avengers Memorial, firing web-line after web-line in rapid succession, as he skirted the edge of the crater at top speed. He felt rather then heard the aircraft accelerating to pursue him, and in uncharacteristic silence Peter did his best to go faster, the newly unfamiliar skyline of Memorial City becoming a blur as he leapt, and swung, and maneuvered uptown. The plan hadn't changed – get to a crowd, get street clothes on, get home. Now he just had to do it faster. Or . . .
Peter fired another line, onto an extended crane, and flipped, turning back towards the aircraft. The street wasn't crowded, but there were still people there, so he'd have to guide it down, after. In the apex of the flip, Peter fired a web-line into the plane's cockpit, and pulled himself forwards. He smashed into the cockpit, knocking out the copilot with an offhand blow. Leaping forwards, he entered the crew area, where both side doors were already slung open. There was only a single crewman, in black sentinel service fatigues. His eyes widened in surprise as Peter walked towards him, and he made a desperate lunge for a headset.
Peter cut him off, and held him tightly with one hand. "This plane is empty! Where are the rest of you? Talk, now!"
The technician gestured with a shaking hand towards the open bay doors. "W-we r-released them, all-already. S-standard two-item t-team, re-reliable ones, too."
Peter raised an eyebrow under his mask. "Two of what?"
The plane shook with an impact as his question was answered. It spiraled towards the ground, jarring Peter off his feet. He recovered quickly, throwing himself out of the bay door and firing web lines as fast as he could, connecting the falling aircraft to the construction equipment above it, trying to halt its descent, or at least slow it down. One by one the webs strained as they connected to the plane, strained but held. Peter fired another web-line to bring himself around and let loose another barrage, holding the plane in place with a dozen more lines.
He let himself fall to the ground to admire his handiwork, going to a knee for a moment as he sagged in exhaustion. Then, he quickly backflipped away as the tingle in his scalp returned for quickly. A steel fist passed through the air where he stood a second ago, and as his Spider-Sense fired off again, he quickly leapt over a rocket-like projectile that nearly hit him.
"Well," Spidey said, "there are two of them." In black leather, studded with spikes, his foes were fearsome looking, no doubt. Red tattooed lines radiated across their faces, and a droning voice emanated from the speakers embedded in their collars.
"Illegal mutant. You are in contravention of the Patriot Memorial Act. These Hounds are empowered to take custody of you."
As the voice went on, the first of the Hounds, a blond man with a crew cut, propelled himself forwards in a straight line, the sound of his blasting overpowering the monotonous speaker.
"You know, I'm not even a mutant," Peter said as he leapt over the Hound, "you could do some fact-checking first. And –" he fired a web-line, connecting the rocketing teenager to a piece of debris and pulling him off course "it's not like I'm doing anything people object to. It's crime-fighting, not crime-causing." He caught a blow from the second Hound, a teenaged girl who appeared to be made of metal. in with his right hand, holding her fist tight.
"And frankly, I'm a little disappointed. These are the folks you decided to send against me?" Before the Hound could throw a punch with her second hand, Peter twisted his arm, trying to throw the Hound to the ground. Instead her skin tore off as he twisted, revealing a green, roiling substance. Peter's scalp tingled, as the Hound flicked her hand to send droplets towards him. He leaned, ready to jump out of the way, when a splitting headache broke across his mind.
It was what like what he imagined getting shot was like, utterly and horrifyingly painful. A second later, it was gone, but by then the acidic drops were boiling holes through his costume and burning his chest. Peter stumbled to the side, the broken straps of his backpack slipping off and onto the ground. The first Hound impacted, pushing Peter into a car and insensate for a moment, his awareness slipping as the male hound punched him again and again and again. He wasn't stronger then a normal human, Peter thought, but it still hurt, and that field of his made it impossible for Peter to strike back.
The female Hound came forward, flicking her hand again to spill more acid across Peter's chest. The Spider-symbol was all but burned away by now, and Peter could smell what was happening to him just as much as he could feel it.
Then, they stopped. For a moment, the two Hounds looked at each other, their eyes clearing of their aggression, as if they were about to say something, till a blink sound cut across the street. A female voice called out to Peter, who stumbled to his feet.
"Come on!" A girl stood in a purple, glowing, portal, which looked out onto an entirely different scene, one inside some building. The girl itself was wearing all black leather, pants and a crop top, with brilliantly red hair in bangs and a pony-tail. "I can't hold them forever, come on!"
Peter assessed the situation quickly – evil bdsm soldiers on one hand, and what appears to be an ally of some sort on the other. It was an easy choice. Firing webs as he ran, Peter bound the feet of the two Hounds to the street and went with the girl through the portal.
It closed shut just as Peter finished going through it, and he turned to the strange girl. "Who are you, and where am I?"
"Welcome, Spider-Man." The girl brushed aside her hair, revealing a red diamond shaped bindi, which contrasted sharply with her pale white skin. "Call me . . . call me Jean."
----------
Hey. Obv, this is a chapter one, not a done and finished thing. It's – clearly – an AU, but one that I have plotted out from a individual point of division, not just invented as a status quo. If you want to wait and hear that in the story, you're welcome to, if you want to just have me tell y'all now, then I'll do that.
- Location
- Canada
I'm willing to wait for the reveal. The story seems interesting so far
RichardWhereat
Feanor did nothing wrong.
- Location
- Australia
So, with a Changing of Minds, will his mind be changed and he go villain? Every time he commits a crime he says "I wanted to be a Hero, the cops wanted me to be a criminal. Blame the NYPD, all of them."