An unfortunate teenager--through cosmic coincidence--falls through a wormhole and ends up becoming a friendly neighborhood hero. May God help Jump City...
With Great Power, Comes Great Irresponsibility (DC/Marvel SI/OC)
- Thread starter Locomotivation
- Start date
- Crossover Superhero
- Created
- Status
- Ongoing
- Watchers
- 79
- Recent readers
- 0
- Threadmarks
- 3
-
Statistics (2 threadmarks, 2.1k words)
User Total Locomotivation 2 -
Loading…
Prelude: A Happy Little Tale (Old Version)
Author's Note: Something I'd thought I'd do before conking out tonight. Been on my mind for a little bit now, and I thought I would put it here.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Who am I? Are you sure you wanna know? The story of my life is not for the faint of heart. If someone said that this was some happy little tale--hey, hey! Where're ya going! I--I wasn't finished yet! Okay, okay, fine! I'll stop doing the Rami trilogy thing, just please stick around!
There, I've stopped doing the Rami thing! Ya happy!? Okay, now what intro am I gonna steal that's actually gonna be able to explain who I am and summarize what I have been doing for the past year-and-a-half…?
…
…
...Ah, there we go…
Okay, let's do this one more time!
My name is Percy N. Manson...or rather, Percy N. Parker. About a year and a half ago I fell through some kind of wormhole and ended up in Jump City...which is in DC comics, or rather Detective Comics comics...wow, that sounds stupid.
Anyway, shortly after that I got bitten by a radioactive spider and gained superpowers. It was then that I decided to use my powers to make money in an underground fighting ring. Yeah I know, very irresponsible, trust me it gets way worse. After that, I met Ben Parker and his wife Maybell, who took me in and taught me a few things about responsibility.
Didn't stop my stupid ass from going back to the ring over and over until...I did something stupid, and Ben suffered for it. After that, I decided that I would be a better person. A hero! I would become...the Spectacular Spider-Man...complete with Spider Hoodie!
After that I stopped a few muggings, foiled a few robberies, started helping out around a homeless shelter, met my first actual crush, fought my first super villain--what a Shocker--got hit by a drone, got constantly criticized by good ole' Jameson--cause of course he's here!--foiled my first crime boss--goodbye Tombstone--met my first superhero--man, I gotta check up on Static sometime. Maybe we can play basketball--and took said crush out on a date! We, uh, kinda decided that it wouldn't work out though…
But other than that small thing, being Spider-Man is great! I help cats get across the street, get old ladies out of trees, stop runaway children and save innocent cars....I mean, sure I cause a little property damage--okay a lot of property damage--okay I---I...I'm sorry, old man...I'm trying...I really am…
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
So uh, yeah. That's...that's my life's story thus far. Ended up in a world I thought was fiction, got superpowers, used those powers for less-than-noble things for a little bit, my mentor figure…
Let's skip that one. I became a superhero, fought crooks, fought supervillains, I wish I could say I fought Jameson, caused a ton of property damage, met an awesome superhero, got hit in the face by a drone, and now from what I'm hearing, there's some sort of lizard monster running around in the sewers! Should probably check that out eventually.
And I haven't even met any really dangerous supervillains yet!
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
With Great Power Comes Great Irresponsibility
A Spider-Man Self Insert/OC-Insert
Prelude: A Happy Little Tale
With Great Power Comes Great Irresponsibility
A Spider-Man Self Insert/OC-Insert
Prelude: A Happy Little Tale
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Who am I? Are you sure you wanna know? The story of my life is not for the faint of heart. If someone said that this was some happy little tale--hey, hey! Where're ya going! I--I wasn't finished yet! Okay, okay, fine! I'll stop doing the Rami trilogy thing, just please stick around!
There, I've stopped doing the Rami thing! Ya happy!? Okay, now what intro am I gonna steal that's actually gonna be able to explain who I am and summarize what I have been doing for the past year-and-a-half…?
…
…
...Ah, there we go…
Okay, let's do this one more time!
My name is Percy N. Manson...or rather, Percy N. Parker. About a year and a half ago I fell through some kind of wormhole and ended up in Jump City...which is in DC comics, or rather Detective Comics comics...wow, that sounds stupid.
Anyway, shortly after that I got bitten by a radioactive spider and gained superpowers. It was then that I decided to use my powers to make money in an underground fighting ring. Yeah I know, very irresponsible, trust me it gets way worse. After that, I met Ben Parker and his wife Maybell, who took me in and taught me a few things about responsibility.
Didn't stop my stupid ass from going back to the ring over and over until...I did something stupid, and Ben suffered for it. After that, I decided that I would be a better person. A hero! I would become...the Spectacular Spider-Man...complete with Spider Hoodie!
After that I stopped a few muggings, foiled a few robberies, started helping out around a homeless shelter, met my first actual crush, fought my first super villain--what a Shocker--got hit by a drone, got constantly criticized by good ole' Jameson--cause of course he's here!--foiled my first crime boss--goodbye Tombstone--met my first superhero--man, I gotta check up on Static sometime. Maybe we can play basketball--and took said crush out on a date! We, uh, kinda decided that it wouldn't work out though…
But other than that small thing, being Spider-Man is great! I help cats get across the street, get old ladies out of trees, stop runaway children and save innocent cars....I mean, sure I cause a little property damage--okay a lot of property damage--okay I---I...I'm sorry, old man...I'm trying...I really am…
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
So uh, yeah. That's...that's my life's story thus far. Ended up in a world I thought was fiction, got superpowers, used those powers for less-than-noble things for a little bit, my mentor figure…
Let's skip that one. I became a superhero, fought crooks, fought supervillains, I wish I could say I fought Jameson, caused a ton of property damage, met an awesome superhero, got hit in the face by a drone, and now from what I'm hearing, there's some sort of lizard monster running around in the sewers! Should probably check that out eventually.
And I haven't even met any really dangerous supervillains yet!
Prelude: Down the Rabbit Hole
AN: Decided to make some changes to this story. @TangledLion, thank you for the criticism and suggestions
Life was full of things that people never fully expected.
First, there were the mundane things: Pop quizzes, winning the lottery, car crashes, heart attacks, being let go from your job, your significant other breaking it off with you, strokes, that girl--or guy--you like wanting to go on a date with you, getting a new job, and many other things.
Then, there were the extraordinary things that were never expected: Gaining superpowers, falling through rifts in space-time, losing an important piece of an experiment, having aliens invade your city, having giant lizards invade your neighborhood, having robots invade your place of employment, Superman landing on your car, those sorts of things.
For one unfortunate soul, it was the rift in space-time. For the other, it was the piece of the experiment.
Both would have consequences.
Oliver Octan was your typical laboratory scientist--never mind the two extra mechanical servos attached to his back: Brown hair cut short as to not contaminate his work or damage himself, lab coat in order to keep in uniform and to remain safe, goggles worn over the eyes so that said eyes would not become more damaged than they already were.
Physically, the man was quite fine. He had bothered to keep in shape, despite most of his time being stuck in the lab, overlooking a desk or a lab table, or on several computer monitors. He had gotten at least eight hours of sleep each day, unlike some of his more unlucky co-workers. And finally, his diet consisted only of the healthiest of foods, a standard he had always maintained, and something he was quite proud of.
No, what was wrong with him today was not something involving his body, but rather something involving his mind. His mood. His emotional state. Someone had made a grievous mistake, and now he had to visit one of the higher-ups in order to insure that the situation could be dealt with, both effectively and immediately. And failing that, to insure that the least amount of damage was done as possible.
Oliver frowned, contemplating what to do with the one who had done this, and who had done this in the first place. If it was a worker or an intern, things would be simple. If it was an accident, they would be fired for the disruption of the project, and would be saddled with a few NDAs and retrieve what was lost. If it was on purpose, then they would have to arrange an 'accident' and retrieve what was lost. If this employee was coerced...Thames would have to do some 'work'.
And if it was someone from outside of Ozman Laboratories...that would be when things got complicated.
Oliver grasped the handle of the large door that was labeled N. Ozman, and pushed it open, ignoring the sound of conversant voices from within. He was more than certain that what he was about to share would be a fair bit more important.
Inside of the room were three other people. One sat behind a plain wooden desk, and wore a uniform similar to Oliver's own. Two others stood in front of the desk and slightly to the first man's left. Aside from his position behind the desk, the first man was almost unremarkable. The other two on the other hand…
The second person was tall, standing at at least six feet. He wore a rather fine suit that suggested a rich background. His hair was a fine silver, and an eye-patch covered his right eye. Next to him was a younger woman, most likely the man's daughter and heir. She was dressed in a similar manner to her father, even with a matching eye-patch, yet her hair was a snow-white color.
The man behind the desk--Nathaniel Ozman--looked towards Oliver and smiled. "Ah, good day Doctor Octan! I was just speaking to one of our generous benefactors." He gestured towards the man. "This is mister Slade Wilson. He was at the gala about a month back?"
Slade turned towards him, a calm smile on his face and a cold, analytical look in his eye. The woman next to him merely crossed her arms, a frown on her face. Oliver kept his expression neutral. "I do remember."
The right corner of Slade's lips twitched upwards, almost making a full smile. "Then you will remember that I funded a certain project...a project that I believe you have your hands in right now?"
Oliver's eyes widened a slight bit under the goggles. So, this is one of our buyers.
Then the scientist schooled his expression back to its neutral form. "Yes, I do remember that. In fact, I have news concerning that project...that I will only be telling Mr. Ozman. It will be his choice whether he tells you or not." Oliver spoke, keeping his voice as calm as possible.
Slade merely shrugged, gave the younger woman a look, and then walked out the door, his compatriot following him.
As the door closed, Nathaniel turned his attention to Oliver. "You wouldn't be up here if it wasn't an emergency. What's going on?"
Oliver grit his teeth and spoke his reply. "One of the test subjects for our project is missing."
Nathaniel's eyes went wide. "What?! How?!"
"We are uncertain. Thames suspects one of the other companies whose representatives were at the gala, but I believe that this might have been an inside job, given the secretive nature of our project."
"Have you found any evidence to support either theory?"
"No, Nathaniel, but we will keep looking."
"Good. If we lose even one of our test subjects, we will be losing out on the contract of the century!"
Oh...oh crappy Christ why does everything hurt? I thought, letting out a pained groan as I pushed myself up from the cold, hard surface of the--!
What? Wasn't I in a nice, warm, and comfortable bed earlier?
My eyes opened, and I winced as light burned my eyes and blurred my vision. As said vision cleared, my eyes saw the most horrifying sight they had ever seen.
An extremely filthy alleyway.
"...Ho-Kay…" I spoke aloud, turning my head left and right in an attempt to gather more information.
"First question: How did I get here?" I asked no-one as I pushed myself upwards and off the ground.
"Second question…" I began, my nervous eyes still scanning the alleyway.
"WHERE THE FUCK AM I!?"
Life was full of things that people never fully expected.
First, there were the mundane things: Pop quizzes, winning the lottery, car crashes, heart attacks, being let go from your job, your significant other breaking it off with you, strokes, that girl--or guy--you like wanting to go on a date with you, getting a new job, and many other things.
Then, there were the extraordinary things that were never expected: Gaining superpowers, falling through rifts in space-time, losing an important piece of an experiment, having aliens invade your city, having giant lizards invade your neighborhood, having robots invade your place of employment, Superman landing on your car, those sorts of things.
For one unfortunate soul, it was the rift in space-time. For the other, it was the piece of the experiment.
Both would have consequences.
Down the Rabbit Hole
Or: How We Actually Begin
Or: How We Actually Begin
Somewhere
Oliver Octan was your typical laboratory scientist--never mind the two extra mechanical servos attached to his back: Brown hair cut short as to not contaminate his work or damage himself, lab coat in order to keep in uniform and to remain safe, goggles worn over the eyes so that said eyes would not become more damaged than they already were.
Physically, the man was quite fine. He had bothered to keep in shape, despite most of his time being stuck in the lab, overlooking a desk or a lab table, or on several computer monitors. He had gotten at least eight hours of sleep each day, unlike some of his more unlucky co-workers. And finally, his diet consisted only of the healthiest of foods, a standard he had always maintained, and something he was quite proud of.
No, what was wrong with him today was not something involving his body, but rather something involving his mind. His mood. His emotional state. Someone had made a grievous mistake, and now he had to visit one of the higher-ups in order to insure that the situation could be dealt with, both effectively and immediately. And failing that, to insure that the least amount of damage was done as possible.
Oliver frowned, contemplating what to do with the one who had done this, and who had done this in the first place. If it was a worker or an intern, things would be simple. If it was an accident, they would be fired for the disruption of the project, and would be saddled with a few NDAs and retrieve what was lost. If it was on purpose, then they would have to arrange an 'accident' and retrieve what was lost. If this employee was coerced...Thames would have to do some 'work'.
And if it was someone from outside of Ozman Laboratories...that would be when things got complicated.
Oliver grasped the handle of the large door that was labeled N. Ozman, and pushed it open, ignoring the sound of conversant voices from within. He was more than certain that what he was about to share would be a fair bit more important.
Inside of the room were three other people. One sat behind a plain wooden desk, and wore a uniform similar to Oliver's own. Two others stood in front of the desk and slightly to the first man's left. Aside from his position behind the desk, the first man was almost unremarkable. The other two on the other hand…
The second person was tall, standing at at least six feet. He wore a rather fine suit that suggested a rich background. His hair was a fine silver, and an eye-patch covered his right eye. Next to him was a younger woman, most likely the man's daughter and heir. She was dressed in a similar manner to her father, even with a matching eye-patch, yet her hair was a snow-white color.
The man behind the desk--Nathaniel Ozman--looked towards Oliver and smiled. "Ah, good day Doctor Octan! I was just speaking to one of our generous benefactors." He gestured towards the man. "This is mister Slade Wilson. He was at the gala about a month back?"
Slade turned towards him, a calm smile on his face and a cold, analytical look in his eye. The woman next to him merely crossed her arms, a frown on her face. Oliver kept his expression neutral. "I do remember."
The right corner of Slade's lips twitched upwards, almost making a full smile. "Then you will remember that I funded a certain project...a project that I believe you have your hands in right now?"
Oliver's eyes widened a slight bit under the goggles. So, this is one of our buyers.
Then the scientist schooled his expression back to its neutral form. "Yes, I do remember that. In fact, I have news concerning that project...that I will only be telling Mr. Ozman. It will be his choice whether he tells you or not." Oliver spoke, keeping his voice as calm as possible.
Slade merely shrugged, gave the younger woman a look, and then walked out the door, his compatriot following him.
As the door closed, Nathaniel turned his attention to Oliver. "You wouldn't be up here if it wasn't an emergency. What's going on?"
Oliver grit his teeth and spoke his reply. "One of the test subjects for our project is missing."
Nathaniel's eyes went wide. "What?! How?!"
"We are uncertain. Thames suspects one of the other companies whose representatives were at the gala, but I believe that this might have been an inside job, given the secretive nature of our project."
"Have you found any evidence to support either theory?"
"No, Nathaniel, but we will keep looking."
"Good. If we lose even one of our test subjects, we will be losing out on the contract of the century!"
Somewhere else
Oh...oh crappy Christ why does everything hurt? I thought, letting out a pained groan as I pushed myself up from the cold, hard surface of the--!
What? Wasn't I in a nice, warm, and comfortable bed earlier?
My eyes opened, and I winced as light burned my eyes and blurred my vision. As said vision cleared, my eyes saw the most horrifying sight they had ever seen.
An extremely filthy alleyway.
"...Ho-Kay…" I spoke aloud, turning my head left and right in an attempt to gather more information.
"First question: How did I get here?" I asked no-one as I pushed myself upwards and off the ground.
"Second question…" I began, my nervous eyes still scanning the alleyway.
"WHERE THE FUCK AM I!?"
Prelude: Newton's Third Law
There were three kinds of people in the world, as far as Felicity Harrion was concerned. First, there were those who worried too much about the past, trying to relive old glory days, righting past wrongs, and avenging long-dead grudges and feuds.
Second, there were those who obsessed too much over the future, always worrying about crises to come, plans that had to be set in motion, and the consequences of one's actions.
Felicity considered herself the third kind. She was one of the ones who lived in the moment, moving beyond the past and accepting the consequences as they came, and doing only what she must to survive and thrive.
Had she been the second, then maybe the young thief might have secured the precious package that she carried a bit more tightly. But she was not, and the consequences would be far reaching indeed.
Newton's Third Law
Or: The Lost Subject
Felicity only allowed herself a small smile once she boarded the public transportation bus, the heels of her shoes clacking against the steel floor. Thankfully, any major attention drawing noise was drowned out by the loud clamoring of the passengers already aboard the public transport, all of them attempting to either leave the bus, enter it, or simply trying to find a better place to sit down for the duration of their trip.
"Could you move--!"
"Howard, I'm gonna have to call you back--!"
"Shut up and take my god-damn MONEY--!"
"Stop pushing me! I said STOP PUSHING--!"
"WILL YOU SHUT THE FU--!"
Felicity exhaled a long-suffering sigh as she sat down next to a rather burly-looking man in a suit. Two seconds later, the bus began to move.
'At least after this job I will finally have enough money to leave this god awful city.'
Robbing Ozman Laboratories had not been difficult, but it wasn't particularly easy either. She supposed that was why the pay was so...mediocre for some rich asshole to run a corporate espionage job. And all over a spider that they were using as a live subject?
'...Eh. I'm not being paid to question these kinds of things. I'm being paid to deliver on my word.' Felicity thought, a small smirk on her face as she withdrew the tiny case that held the 'test subject.
...Only to find it completely empty.
'Aw, son of a…'
"AGH! My fucking hand!"
'I'm not getting paid, am I?' She thought, schooling her face into a neutral expression as the blond passenger behind her whined about his injured hand.
'So much for leaving this godforsaken place.'
Goddamn spiders!
I always hated the eight-eyed, eight-legged fuckers--just about as much as I hated every other kind of bug, including wasps, the evil shits!--and made sure that none of them ever found their way anywhere near me.
So how the hell did one manage to climb up to my hand in the first place?! And why did the little bastard bite me?!
Granted, I was super distracted trying to find a place to sit on that cramped as all heaven bus, but I should have been able to feel a creepy-crawly crawling all over my hand!
...Shouldn't I?
Suppose it doesn't matter now. Better head to some kind of hospital or something…
...And hope that the bill isn't too big. I've only got about a hundred and fifty bucks in my wallet. Some of which might be going to the driver.
God damnit.
Nathaniel Ozman sat behind his desk, and elbow propped up on its surface, the hand that the elbow was attached to in turn propping up the man's chin. An empty cup of coffee--just recently finished--sat on the desk, a bit to the right of the scientist's laptop, and within reach of his left hand.
'I'll have to get a new one.' Ozman thought. 'Preferably before Thames shows up. But I should have time. Damn vulture's always so 'fashionably late'.'
As if summoned by the man's very thoughts, a figure wearing dark clothes and an all-encompassing helmet entered the room. Ozman jolted awake at the sight of the man, his attention no longer on the empty cup. He had a guest to attend to, after all.
"You're late." He spoke, deciding to be as blunt as humanly possible.
"What can I say?" The other man spoke, a voice changer adding a static rumble to his speech. "Traffic was killer."
"Evidently." Nathaniel drawled. "I think you already know why I called you here?"
"Someone stole something from you and you want me to steal it back." The other man replied. "This isn't what I would call my first rodeo. But please, why the secrecy?"
A wry smirk played up on Nathaniel's face. "Let's just say that if this breach of security were to be leaked to...others, I would lose a sufficient amount of my investors. And with that, you would be out of a job...Thames."
Nathaniel stood, taking slow and deliberate steps towards the now-named Thames. "So here is what I want you to do. I want you to find out who stole the test subject. Then I want you to find out where they are. Finally, I want you to retrieve the subject, and deal with the thief in whatever way you see fit? Can you do that?"
"And how much would I be getting paid for this?"
"Ten grand...plus another ten upon completion. Half now, half later. Agreed?"
Under his helmet, Thames smiled. "Give me a few weeks. And the new flight suit."
Second, there were those who obsessed too much over the future, always worrying about crises to come, plans that had to be set in motion, and the consequences of one's actions.
Felicity considered herself the third kind. She was one of the ones who lived in the moment, moving beyond the past and accepting the consequences as they came, and doing only what she must to survive and thrive.
Had she been the second, then maybe the young thief might have secured the precious package that she carried a bit more tightly. But she was not, and the consequences would be far reaching indeed.
Newton's Third Law
Or: The Lost Subject
A Jump City Public Transportation Bus
Felicity only allowed herself a small smile once she boarded the public transportation bus, the heels of her shoes clacking against the steel floor. Thankfully, any major attention drawing noise was drowned out by the loud clamoring of the passengers already aboard the public transport, all of them attempting to either leave the bus, enter it, or simply trying to find a better place to sit down for the duration of their trip.
"Could you move--!"
"Howard, I'm gonna have to call you back--!"
"Shut up and take my god-damn MONEY--!"
"Stop pushing me! I said STOP PUSHING--!"
"WILL YOU SHUT THE FU--!"
Felicity exhaled a long-suffering sigh as she sat down next to a rather burly-looking man in a suit. Two seconds later, the bus began to move.
'At least after this job I will finally have enough money to leave this god awful city.'
Robbing Ozman Laboratories had not been difficult, but it wasn't particularly easy either. She supposed that was why the pay was so...mediocre for some rich asshole to run a corporate espionage job. And all over a spider that they were using as a live subject?
'...Eh. I'm not being paid to question these kinds of things. I'm being paid to deliver on my word.' Felicity thought, a small smirk on her face as she withdrew the tiny case that held the 'test subject.
...Only to find it completely empty.
'Aw, son of a…'
"AGH! My fucking hand!"
'I'm not getting paid, am I?' She thought, schooling her face into a neutral expression as the blond passenger behind her whined about his injured hand.
'So much for leaving this godforsaken place.'
With our protagonist…
Goddamn spiders!
I always hated the eight-eyed, eight-legged fuckers--just about as much as I hated every other kind of bug, including wasps, the evil shits!--and made sure that none of them ever found their way anywhere near me.
So how the hell did one manage to climb up to my hand in the first place?! And why did the little bastard bite me?!
Granted, I was super distracted trying to find a place to sit on that cramped as all heaven bus, but I should have been able to feel a creepy-crawly crawling all over my hand!
...Shouldn't I?
Suppose it doesn't matter now. Better head to some kind of hospital or something…
...And hope that the bill isn't too big. I've only got about a hundred and fifty bucks in my wallet. Some of which might be going to the driver.
God damnit.
Ozman Laboratories
Nathaniel Ozman sat behind his desk, and elbow propped up on its surface, the hand that the elbow was attached to in turn propping up the man's chin. An empty cup of coffee--just recently finished--sat on the desk, a bit to the right of the scientist's laptop, and within reach of his left hand.
'I'll have to get a new one.' Ozman thought. 'Preferably before Thames shows up. But I should have time. Damn vulture's always so 'fashionably late'.'
As if summoned by the man's very thoughts, a figure wearing dark clothes and an all-encompassing helmet entered the room. Ozman jolted awake at the sight of the man, his attention no longer on the empty cup. He had a guest to attend to, after all.
"You're late." He spoke, deciding to be as blunt as humanly possible.
"What can I say?" The other man spoke, a voice changer adding a static rumble to his speech. "Traffic was killer."
"Evidently." Nathaniel drawled. "I think you already know why I called you here?"
"Someone stole something from you and you want me to steal it back." The other man replied. "This isn't what I would call my first rodeo. But please, why the secrecy?"
A wry smirk played up on Nathaniel's face. "Let's just say that if this breach of security were to be leaked to...others, I would lose a sufficient amount of my investors. And with that, you would be out of a job...Thames."
Nathaniel stood, taking slow and deliberate steps towards the now-named Thames. "So here is what I want you to do. I want you to find out who stole the test subject. Then I want you to find out where they are. Finally, I want you to retrieve the subject, and deal with the thief in whatever way you see fit? Can you do that?"
"And how much would I be getting paid for this?"
"Ten grand...plus another ten upon completion. Half now, half later. Agreed?"
Under his helmet, Thames smiled. "Give me a few weeks. And the new flight suit."