Post by Spider-Man on Feb 18, 2007 16:55:04 GMT -5
There are some days when i really, really hate my job.
Spider-Man was perched atop a downed bus, smoke still pouring forth from its shattered windows and battered tyres - torn almost to shreds from the impact - only just decreasing in speed as they continued to spin wildly. Before the vehicle was a young child, curled into a fetal position in the centre of a melee of devastation. Around him, a circle of flames danced, as if readying themselves to sacrifice the boy in their midst. The avenue was decimated, littered with moaning victims and plant limbs.
"I didn't mean to..." the boy sobbed.
Spider-Man leapt down from the bus and moved cautiously forward. The boy's gaze flashed up to him, and he was instantly sent stumbling back. He grunted as he impacted upon the remains of a tree bark, and was then spun viciously away. He landed unceremoniously in the remnants of a garbage truck. "Ugh." He rose slowly to his feet, making a mental note to stay out of the child's sight. He had arrived upon the scene with the impression that a psychopathic metahuman would be tossing fireballs about him...this situation was far more difficult. The boy was scared, and seemed to be the source of the incident.
Gimme Doc Ock over this, anyday. At least that way, I just have to know where to hit.
"Listen, kid," he began, softly enough so as not to be construed as a threat, but firmly enough so as to be heard over the wailing alarms, "I just wanna help you. Whatever's happened here, it's obviously not your fault."
"Go away."
Behind his mask Spider-Man blinked sweat from his eyes. This could take a while. "C'mon...that's not the nicest thing to say to someone who's trying to help you, is it?"
"It's for your own good." The tone was now tainted with remorse. "I'll just hurt you, otherwise. It's what I do. I'm a freak."
"No, you're not! Don't talk crazy! You think...I dunno, you think the X-Men are freaks? You think I'm a freak?" He paused. "Don't answer that last one." He edged closer to the child ensuring that he was out of his line of sight. "You're unique, that's what you are. Your powers - they make you different. Cooler. trust me, they are a hit with the ladies. A man that can shoot laser beams outta his eyes - they go crazy over. Just ask Cyclops. I mean, the girls he's dated - oh, yeah. Back to the matter at hand."
The boy shifted himself into a reluctant sitting position, and fingered his tearstained cheek. "Why do you wanna help me so bad?"
"Because I've been in your position. Trust me, kid, all this? It'll be blamed on me. It's a tough world when ya got powers like me and you - and it doesn't get any easier," he responded, rather bluntly. The webslinger tagged a stone gargoyle with a webline and carefuly hoisted himself into view. "And I don't want you to get off to a bad start. Now, can I help you?"
The boy nodded, rather reluctantly.
Spider-Man grinned, gave the child a thumbs-up gesture, and gathered him into his arms. "Now you concentrate real hard and make sure your powers don't turn me into street pizza on the way over, okay?"
"Where are we going?" came the weak enquiry.
Spider-Man, quipped, "To a bald guy in a wheelchair. And a blonde in white leather. And a guy with red shades. And a small dude with claws...long story short, to some friends of mine."
The child snickered. "You have weird friends."
Spider-Man mulled over the statement for a moment, before darting forward and firing another webline. "Yeah. But dammit...are they there when ya need 'em."
Spider-Man was perched atop a downed bus, smoke still pouring forth from its shattered windows and battered tyres - torn almost to shreds from the impact - only just decreasing in speed as they continued to spin wildly. Before the vehicle was a young child, curled into a fetal position in the centre of a melee of devastation. Around him, a circle of flames danced, as if readying themselves to sacrifice the boy in their midst. The avenue was decimated, littered with moaning victims and plant limbs.
"I didn't mean to..." the boy sobbed.
Spider-Man leapt down from the bus and moved cautiously forward. The boy's gaze flashed up to him, and he was instantly sent stumbling back. He grunted as he impacted upon the remains of a tree bark, and was then spun viciously away. He landed unceremoniously in the remnants of a garbage truck. "Ugh." He rose slowly to his feet, making a mental note to stay out of the child's sight. He had arrived upon the scene with the impression that a psychopathic metahuman would be tossing fireballs about him...this situation was far more difficult. The boy was scared, and seemed to be the source of the incident.
Gimme Doc Ock over this, anyday. At least that way, I just have to know where to hit.
"Listen, kid," he began, softly enough so as not to be construed as a threat, but firmly enough so as to be heard over the wailing alarms, "I just wanna help you. Whatever's happened here, it's obviously not your fault."
"Go away."
Behind his mask Spider-Man blinked sweat from his eyes. This could take a while. "C'mon...that's not the nicest thing to say to someone who's trying to help you, is it?"
"It's for your own good." The tone was now tainted with remorse. "I'll just hurt you, otherwise. It's what I do. I'm a freak."
"No, you're not! Don't talk crazy! You think...I dunno, you think the X-Men are freaks? You think I'm a freak?" He paused. "Don't answer that last one." He edged closer to the child ensuring that he was out of his line of sight. "You're unique, that's what you are. Your powers - they make you different. Cooler. trust me, they are a hit with the ladies. A man that can shoot laser beams outta his eyes - they go crazy over. Just ask Cyclops. I mean, the girls he's dated - oh, yeah. Back to the matter at hand."
The boy shifted himself into a reluctant sitting position, and fingered his tearstained cheek. "Why do you wanna help me so bad?"
"Because I've been in your position. Trust me, kid, all this? It'll be blamed on me. It's a tough world when ya got powers like me and you - and it doesn't get any easier," he responded, rather bluntly. The webslinger tagged a stone gargoyle with a webline and carefuly hoisted himself into view. "And I don't want you to get off to a bad start. Now, can I help you?"
The boy nodded, rather reluctantly.
Spider-Man grinned, gave the child a thumbs-up gesture, and gathered him into his arms. "Now you concentrate real hard and make sure your powers don't turn me into street pizza on the way over, okay?"
"Where are we going?" came the weak enquiry.
Spider-Man, quipped, "To a bald guy in a wheelchair. And a blonde in white leather. And a guy with red shades. And a small dude with claws...long story short, to some friends of mine."
The child snickered. "You have weird friends."
Spider-Man mulled over the statement for a moment, before darting forward and firing another webline. "Yeah. But dammit...are they there when ya need 'em."