[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/XV1PIyT.jpg?2[/img][/center] The sun shines bright as I swing through the skies of New York, the late summer air whipping through my hood. Life is good. No, life is way more than good. Life is goddamn terrific. I've put the Enforcers behind bars, sending the Silk Cartel scuttling to regroup itself. Meanwhile, my frienemy the Punisher has killed Silvio Manfredi. I don't agree with what he's done, but that move has put the other crime families of New York on notice. The two of us have put the mob on edge. They're being nervous. They're tentative. That means my dad and the other cops can take more and more of them off the streets. I hate to be overconfident, but I'm just gonna say it. I'm winning. We're winning. The good guys have taken the high ground in New York, and I'm gonna make sure it stays that way. Picking ner-do-wells off the street has never been easier than it is now. The past few days I've put a fair share of pushers, muscle, and made men in jail. Of course, having the combined force of the NYPD after me isn't helping all that much. Dad was livid the night I put the Enforcers away and embarrassed his crack squad of metahuman hunters. The showdown I knew was inevitable once he was given his task force happened far earlier than I ever expected, and it's turned Dad's job into something personal. I've been debating telling him what I am, but the idea that it will shatter our relationship strikes terror into me. I could not handle hurting him like that. [color=0054a6]"Hey, babe,"[/color] Peter's voice comes over the comms and a big goofy grin comes across my face. Things with Peter have been just as good as the crime fighting has been. Every moment with him reminds me how dumb I've been to put this off. It sounds corny as hell, but I do miss him when we're apart, and having him be a part of my mission makes my sappy, little heart happy. I am so lame. This entire situation is the lamest, most basic situation possible, and I can't help but love it all the same. [color=0054a6]"You on your way?"[/color] [color=ec008c][b]"Yea,"[/b][/color] I respond, flipping through the air lazily and absentmindedly. Swinging has become like a second nature to me. It's like riding a bike, except one trillion times more awesome, and I look badass doing it, if I do say so myself. There's even a Twitter hashtag for people who catch me in the act, and crazy-old J Jonah Jameson is paying people for the best ones. Granted, I should probably watch out for that. If I get people following me, I could lead them home, which would not be fun. [color=ec008c][b]"I'm swinging over now. Just had to stop a few purse snatchings and an armed robbery."[/b][/color] [color=0054a6]"Glad you're keeping busy,"[/color] he chuckles. [color=0054a6]"But previews are about to start."[/color] [color=ec008c][b]"I'll be there in a sec. Just need to duck into an alley and change."[/b][/color] [center]**********[/center] Hammerhead stands in the ruined mansion of Silvio Manfredi, surveying the canvas of death it has become. The blood of men that Hammerhead had knew for years had been spilled in this foyer. Silvio himself, the man who had been his benefactor and mentor, had been killed in cold blood by a madman who thinks he is the law. What the Punisher is, in reality, is a mad dog let off the leash. His pig handlers didn't see the mania in Frank Castle, buried under the visage of a good cop, until it erupted from the surface. Silvio himself isn't innocent in his own death, of course. He knew he was taking a risk when the hit was ordered on Castle's wife. Yet Silvermane went ahead with it because he was afraid. His fear had been his downfall in the end. Fear of prison and losing his empire. Yet it was lost either way. There is a lesson in that. Behind Hammerhead, Flint Marko wanders around the large entryway trying his best not to look at any of the streaks of blood and viscera that had managed to stain the floors and walls. Flint is one of the toughest SOBs Hammerhead knows, but he never could take the sight of his friends getting hurt. It is an odd trait to have in a mob tough guy, but it is one of the things that makes Marko who he is. [color=aba000][b]"We can't let this pig get away with this,"[/b][/color] Marko growls, his anger righteous and understandable. [color=aba000][b]"We need to get everything we have and throw it at him. He's just one guy. A guy who can be killed."[/b][/color] Hammerhead has been considering the proposition himself, but realizes it's a terrible thing to undertake. [color=004b80][b]"Frank Castle is a rabid animal, Flint,"[/b][/color] the one gangster says to the other. [color=004b80][b]"Silvio's greatest mistake was poking him with a fucking cattle prod. If we do the same, we're gonna end up with our brains blown out on some goddamn expensive marble as well. Me personally? I'd rather let Castle lie. We didn't have no part in putting his lady and his kid in the ground. The way I see it our smartest move is to let the mad bastard kill someone else now. Let him be someone else's problem for now."[/b][/color] [color=aba000][b]"But we need to avenge Silverman!'[/b][/color] Marko waves around the room, presenting the terrible scenes like some sort of macabre carnival barker. [color=aba000][b]"That son of a bitch came into this home and killed the men we called brothers. We can't let that go unpunished."[/b][/color] [color=004b80][b]"We won't,"[/b][/color] Hammerhead sighs. [color=004b80][b]"But we need to be smart, not go off half cocked. We got more than just the Punisher to deal with. We got Spider-Woman and the bastards from South America on our ass too. We need to come up with a plan."[/b][/color] From the doorway, loud, heavy footsteps rumble through the large atrium. The two men turn to see a monstrous, mountain of a man taking up the entirety of the double doors. The light streaming in from the entryway outlines him, his rotund, yet strong presence is like the moon when it eclipses the sun. His voice, a deep, booming baritone fills the room, [color=f49ac2][b]"Well said, Mister Hammerhead. Well said."[/b][/color] The two mobsters nearly bow their head in reverence as the man takes a few more steps into the house. Neither of them had ever considered they might be this close to the Kingpin of Crime. He rarely made appearances, only ever talking to the highest of the high in the crime world. As the sight of him became clear, Hammerhead had to awe at him. Standing even taller than Hammerhead, and even more muscular than Marko, the Kingpin is the definition of intimidation. The suit he is clothed in is white, making him seem like a fallen angel of war, and the cane he carries is like a war club, adorned with a large diamond at the handle. He admires his own reflection in the large stone before bringing his attention back to the two other men, [color=f49ac2][b]"That kind of sound thinking is why I'm putting you in charge of what's left of the Maggia. Our operations are in disarray, to say the least. We need all the level headed leadership we can muster."[/b][/color] [color=004b80][b]"But, Kingpin, sir,"[/b][/color] Hammerhead averts his eyes from the crime king, [color=004b80][b]"how are we even gonna keep up? Spider-Woman and all those freaks are out there."[/b][/color] [color=a2d39c]"I believe I can be of service on that front,"[/color] a voice from behind the Kingpin announces. [center][img]https://i.imgur.com/1kYFMoL.jpg[/img][/center] [color=a2d39c]"Gentlemen,"[/color] Otto Octavius grins with devilish intent, [color=a2d39c]"it is time we gave New York a better breed of criminal."[/color] [center]**********[/center] MJ, Harry, Peter, and I walk out of our showing of NITE OWL AND THE SILK SPECTRE, with me shaking my head profusely as we do, [color=ec008c]"I mean, do they have to make the Silk Spectre costume so revealing? There's absolutely no way that is piratical or protective in any way for a battle. How do bare thighs and knee high boots even begin to help when fighting super villains?"[/color] [color=f26522]"I know right?"[/color] MJ agrees. [color=f26522]"Meanwhile, Nite Owl gets to parade around in full on battle armor and an armory. This is what happens when movies are made by boys and their lizard brains."[/color] [color=0054a6]"You wanna talk about impractical costumes yet the two of you drool over Superman,"[/color] Pete laughs and plants a kiss on my cheek. [color=0054a6]"That guy wears a cape and a t-shirt for crying out loud!"[/color] [color=39b54a]"Yea, and Spider-Woman has a hood on her costume,"[/color] Harry chuckles along with his best friend. [color=39b54a]"How is that helpful in the slightest?"[/color] The desire to punch my friend is strong in that moment, but that would probably make things a bit too obvious. I can see Peter's eyes get wide at the comment, as it was one he had during the design of the suit himself. It's probably the thing we've fought most about since I told him I was going to become Spider-Woman. But I've got a rebellious streak. Always have, always will. And incorporating the hood into the costume just felt right to me. [color=ec008c]"Well, she seems to be doing a pretty good job, hood or no hood,"[/color] I shrug at Harry. [color=ec008c]"Let's see you clean up the streets of New York."[/color] [color=39b54a]"Psh,"[/color] Harry waves me away. [color=39b54a]"I'd just have my dad outfit me with some kickass tech, and I'd do it in no time. Maybe I'd even catch the Spider and get a reward from the police."[/color] [color=f26522]"Yea, but then you'd be a vigilante and they'd arrest you too, darling,"[/color] MJ tussles his hair. [color=f26522]"And we can't have that, can we?"[/color] [color=39b54a]"Not when we're all about to graduate and kick some ass in college!"[/color] Harry pumps his fists excitedly. Right. That. There was a time I would have been over the moon about going into senior year and leaving all this behind. Now, however, I'm not so sure. I'm never going to be able to leave Spider-Woman behind. She's a part of me just as much as my normal live is. Needing to spring to the rescue of as many people as possible at any moment kind of restricts my choices on that front. Plus, I'm not sure I could bring myself to leave New York considering all I've done up to this point. [color=ec008c]"Yea, I cannot wait to be done with Midtown Hi-"[/color] an explosion above draws my attention and cuts my halfhearted excitement short. Looking up, I see a church burning a few blocks down. My instincts want me to get closer, but I can already tell my friends want to move in the opposite direction. I'm caught between both sides of myself, frozen by indecision. Shame boils up in my belly as the firetrucks roll by and begin to fight the blaze. I merely watch as the flames flicker and reflect in my gaze. Peter says something to me and tugs on my arm, but all it sounds like is static to me. I'm not supposed to watch as things get done. I'm the one who's supposed to be saving the people. Turning, I leave with my friends, not speaking another word on our way home. [center]**********[/center] My phone vibrates across the scratched wood of my desk, dancing over the carvings and doodles I've done during years of homework-induced boredom. I may not be a super genius like Peter, but I'm smart enough to get bored with how little challenge high school throws at me. Maybe it's why I threw myself so hard into music, and then into catching criminals with my neat-o super powers. Something to really challenge me is what I've always been looking for. I snatch the phone and find a text from Peter. [color=0054a6]Hey. You okay?[/color] [color=ec008c]Been better. Not psyched I had to stand around while the fire burned tho. Not my MO[/color] [color=0054a6]I know. Sorry. It's not fair[/color] [color=ec008c]No, but I also have to be smart. Something to learn to live with, I guess[/color] [color=0054a6]Well, I think I have something to make you feel better[/color] [color=ec008c]Pete, I'm not coming over[/color] [color=0054a6]Haha. Very funny. Not what I meant[/color] [color=ec008c]Mhm. Suuuuuuure ;-p[/color] [color=0054a6]Whoever blew the place up posted a video.[/color] [color=ec008c]WAT!? GTFO of here[/color] [color=0054a6]Yea, check it out.[/color] I click the link as soon as it comes over the text thread. Once the video loads, I'm greeted by images of flickering flames, pictures of wildfires, and famous fires throughout history. San Francisco and Chicago stand out, and they're mixed in with others I can't place. After a few moments, they are replaced by a black mask and large, insect-like, flaming eyes. Over where the mouth would be on the mask is some sort of respirator. With the shot in extreme close up, that's all I get detail-wise. [color=ed1c24][b]"Citizens of New York,"[/b][/color] a heavily modified voices rasps forth, [color=ed1c24][b]"tonight, the cleansing fire has come to your city. I have burned one of the temples of the old gods. A moldy, old chapel dedicated to the creators of the world. For generations we were told that these beings watched over us. That they would solve our problems. Protect us. Comfort us. But now gods walk among us every day, like the legends of Greece and Rome. Modern day avatars of Gilgamesh, Hercules, and Achilles perform their feats of strength for us to marvel at and worship. What happened to the gods we worshiped? They have forsaken us for replacing them with our new idols. Because the churches, the corrupt and lecherous institutions of old, have forasken the gods. For that, they will burn in righteous fire, as will the filth and the false gods that pretend to be our salvation. And when that day has come, the true gods will reward us."[/b][/color] [color=ed1c24][b]"Follow the Fireflies."[/b][/color] [color=ec008c]"Well,"[/color] I say to myself, [color=ec008c]"that's not creepy at all."[/color]