[center][img]http://i.imgur.com/LAAIvXk.jpg[/img][/center] [center] [b]September 2nd, 2013. 4:18 pm Manhattan, New York[/b] [/center] The rest of the school day hadn't gone much better than it had begun. During the four classes I had with Gwen this semester she hadn't so much as cast a glance my direction, and she had even gone out of her way to sit on the opposite side of the classroom from me by switching seats with another student. I on the other hadn't couldn't [i]stop[/i] thinking about her and how she must be feeling; how hurt I must have [i]made[/i] her. I didn't really expect anything different, but knowing in advance she would ignore me during class didn't make it any easier. At lunch she hadn't even bothered to show up. I later learned from Harry that she had spent the period up in the library alone. As if that wasn't bad enough, I had been so distracted by the Gwen issue that I had forgotten about the [i]other[/i] big problem a new school year would bring. Between second and third periods I was cornered in the hallway by Flash Thompson and several of his cronies. Both Flash and his number one brainless minion, Kenny McFarlane, took turns tripping me while playing monkey in the middle with my textbook. I could have easily taken the two of them without even batting an eyelash, but the last thing I needed was to draw attention to my sudden growth in strength. Wasn't going to do me any good to have to explain how "Puny" Peter Parker had won in a fight against [i]both[/i] a football quarterback and his rather large linebacker friend. So, instead, I continued to play the part of the victim while Flash reminded me that, without Eddie Brock in the school to protect me anymore, I would be at his mercy for the rest of the school year. Which, really, wouldn't have bothered me all too much; Flash had always been a bully, but I could always make a couple self-deprecating jokes and he would eventually lose interest. But today was made worse by the fact that my long-time crush, Liz Allan, had been nearby to watch my pathetic flailing as I pretended to struggle in my efforts to get my textbook back. Not that I thought I had a chance with a world-class beauty like Liz anyways, but I certainly didn't want her to have [i]more[/i] of a reason to think I was a complete dork. So, needless to say by the time school let out I had been feeling less-than-spectacular. Which is why I was currently in costume high over the streets of New York. I wasn't really in the mood to fight crime, but swinging through the city with a cool breeze running over me was a freeing experience, and it always helped to de-stress me. Unfortunately, this was New York, and you couldn't exactly go far before passing by some kind of illegal activity, whether you realized it at the time or not. I was traveling along Midtown Manhattan, making sure to stay as high in the sky as I could so as to avoid being spotted, and getting closer to Clinton with every second. It wasn't a conscious decision, but most of my patrols took me there, so I guess habit had taken over while I was focusing my attention on just enjoying the freedom. Clinton was a pretty rough neighborhood known for it's gang troubles. But, really, with a nickname like "Hell's Kitchen" it didn't have much of a chance to be anything [i]but[/i] a crime hot spot. So, I suppose I shouldn't have been too surprised when I passed through the industrial district of the neighborhood and saw some suspicious activity below. With a sigh, I dropped on the roof of a warehouse to get a closer look. At the building across from me I could see three men dressed in dark clothing, though nothing so conspicuous as ski-masks. They weren't dressed all too oddly considering it was Fall, except the gloves they all had on weren't the kind meant to protect you from the crisp Autumn air, but the ones I've seen many times before on the hands of burglars. I could have passed them off as mere movers transporting merchandise to or from the warehouse, only there were no moving trucks of any sort around; just a black SUV. Definitely suspicious, but not enough for me to act on, so I waited. Two of the men were close enough for me to hear their conversation while the third opened the rear hatch of the SUV and began to rummage around. "...You know what's in there?" One of the closer two asked. He had a shaved head, bulging muscles, and a stupid goatee. Like how John Travolta looked in that one movie about Paris. "Nah," the second said. He was taller than his friend and had dark, curly hair, but wasn't any less physically fit. "Ain't you curious what's so important inside that we were told to hit it in broad daylight?" Asked Goatee. Curly shook his head. "I just do what I'm told. And so should you. You start questioning why Rose has us do these kinds of jobs and you end up disappeared." Rose. That was a name I hadn't heard before. I didn't know who she was, or what she wanted with that particular warehouse that she would be willing to risk these idiots getting caught breaking in during the day instead of waiting a few hours for the cover of night, but I didn't like it. Up until that point I hadn't dealt with any organized crime, just individuals or relatively small groups of thugs causing trouble in various areas of the city. I hoped this Rose chick was just another two-bit crook, but the way Curly talked about her had me thinking otherwise. I waited a little longer to see if either Curly or Goatee would bring Rose back up, but apparently time for small-talk was over, and the two remained silent as they watched the third guy. By this time muscle-man number three had removed a pair of bolt cutters from the back of the vehicle and had made his way to the warehouse door to cut open the padlock. I wasn't about to let them actually break in just for the chance they [i]may[/i] continue their discussion, so I decided to make my move. I could already feel the adrenaline kicking in as I jumped down from my perch on the roof and landed silently behind goons one and two. "Excuse me," I said, my voice muffled by my mask. "But that doesn't look like the proper key to that lock." "Wha-?" Curly spun around almost immediately, and was in time to see my right wrist flick out and a strand of greyish-white webbing shoot past his face. I had aimed not at Curly who stood a foot in front of me, but at his buddy holding the bolt cutters a dozen feet past him. I tugged on the web-line and the cutters flew out of his hands, skittering across the ground out of reach. I released the pressure on the trigger resting high on my palm and the nozzle of the web shooter closed, detaching the web I had just fired. My next shot, again from my right web shooter, was a short one that struck Curly's hand as he reached for the gun tucked in his waistband, leaving his left hand glued to his stomach. Goatee Guy, who was apparently the slow one of the group, finally reacted. "Who the hell are you?" "I'm sorry, I'm not taking questions at this time. Please try again later." My head tingled sharply and I leapt over Goatee and landed on the roof of the SUV. The two bullets that the bolt cutter man had fired at me struck harmlessly against the concrete wall. Two more quick flicks of my wrists and the third goon's arms were webbed to the warehouse door. "Excuse me, sir, but your friend and I were talking. Please don't interrupt." I turned my attention back to Goatee who had begun to try and tear apart the webbing on Curly's hand and stomach. One final shot and now Goatee's own hands were stuck to Curly's, which I'm sure was too close to Curly's crotch for comfort. "Aw man, what is this shit? Get it off me! Why won't it come off me, get it off!" Goatee was panicking. Curly, to his credit, just stared at me apparently stunned to silence. Not that I could blame him; wasn't everyday a weirdo in spandex shot ropes of sticky gunk at you. Or maybe it was; I didn't know these guys' personal activities, and hey, it was New York, I wasn't going to judge. "Answer my questions and I'll take it off." Yeah, right, like I would really do that. "Wha- what do you want?" Goatee stuttered. "Who's Rose?" I asked. "What did she order you to do here?" "She?" Goatee looked confused. "Rose ain't -" "Shut up! You don't tell this freak any-mmpf!" The bolt cutter dude suddenly found himself with a mouthful of web. "I asked you not to interrupt. So rude. Didn't your mother teach you any manners?" I looked back at Goatee expectantly, but he just stared at my wrists. I guess he was afraid of getting webbed again. "[i]Well,[/i]" I prompted, "you were going to tell me about this Rose chick?" "Uh... I don't think I should be saying nothing 'bout Rose." "That's a double negative." He stared at me blankly. "You said that you [i]don't[/i] think should say [i]nothing[/i] about Rose. That means you think you should say [i]something[/i] about her." I explained to him. "So say something." More blank staring. I sighed, but before I could question him further police sirens sounded off in the distance. Somebody must have reported those gunshots earlier. I wanted to stay and find out who this Rose was and what was in the warehouse that was so important, but I wasn't going to get caught by the cops wearing a mask at the scene of a crime. Definitely didn't need that on my personal record. I webbed Goatee's and Curly's feet to the ground to make sure they wouldn't run away before the police arrived, and then made my exit. I should have been getting home already anyways. It was Aunt May's day off, and I was sure she would want to know how the first day of the school year had gone.