[@ProPro][@Doc Doctor]

Stripped away from his primary means of transportation by a man that he'd formed an uneasy alliance with, Derrick took his stroll to the streets. An exo ninja walking amidst the population was less than copacetic, even in such a wretched shithole like Gotham, so he had to be careful. GCPD had a firm grip on most of the streets leading out of The Bowery, persuading Derrick to take the unconventional routes; the alleys, the abandoned buildings, [i]et cetera[/i]. Practically, it wasn't that difficult, especially considering that it wasn't Spider's first rodeo, but it would have spared him a lot of time if he still had his grappling hook. Carjacking was an option, but one that he wasn't willing to take his chances with. He was too infatuated with his regained freedom to do anything that might rob him from it.

His partner, however, apparently did not bother himself with the same dilemma. The second Spider heard the screams spread out from their rendez-vous spot, he knew Donny had something to do with it. [color=0072bc]"Fuck!"[/color], he muttered to himself. What was until then a jog, now turned into a sprint as Derrick unmistakably increased his tempo. He navigated through the alleyways and the different obstacles with the grace of a stray cat until his path lead him to an open area, the city hall. The heightened civilian activity in the area made Derrick self-conscious for a bit, but he kept his composure once he realized their main goal was to run away from the district. Within his mask, his dark brown eyes moved to his right. His intuition proved him to be correct once again, as he saw Donny holding a woman hostage. Like a stereotypical football coach who just learned his son wants to be a ballerina, Derrick shook his head in disapproval, not breaking eye contact with the ginger psycho, not that eye contact would play a big part since he was wearing his mask. Seeing Donny made him realize he was having cold feet about their arrangement. Off to the far left, his sight shifted towards a blonde haired man, dressed in a messy sort of neat way. Two entirely contrasting fashion styles meshed into one. Without uttering a single world, Derrick removed his left Five-Seven from the holster, aiming it right in between the man's eyes. He could fit a bullet in that spot, even from that considerable distance - he was sure of that. He had no idea what Donny's plan was, but the blondie looked like the human personification of disaster.