[quote][color=gray][b]Date:[/b] May 2nd, 2016
[b]To:[/b] Toomes Salvage and Industries, LLC
[b]Address:[/b] 30-35 Thomson Avenue, Sunnyside, Long Island City, NY 
[b]Subject:[/b] Termination of Contract for Cause 

Dear Adrian Toomes, 
We are writing to formally notify you that the contract titled "FALCON Project" entered into on 
June 28th, 2015 is hereby terminated for cause. This action is taken in accordance with [FAR 52.249-8]
Despite previous communications and opportunities to remedy the performance issues outlined, 
you have failed to meet the contractual obligations, including but not limited to: 
 
[b]•[/b] Failure to make progress/endangerment of performance

As a result of these breaches, we find it necessary to terminate the contract effective 
immediately. We request that you cease all work under this contract and return any government 
property within 30 days. 
If you disagree with this termination, you may submit a written appeal to the Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency within 30 days. 
We appreciate your attention to this matter. 
Sincerl\\\[/color]
[/quote]

Adrian wasn't sure why he kept that letter or even why he kept coming back to read it again. It was better than the eviction letter, but that was the thing, wasn't it? All of his troubles came from this. A rejection by the very government he faithfully served for nearly a decade in active service and this was the thanks he got? Not even a year to provide a working prototype? He turned away, tossing his pitiable keepsake aside, feeling his temper flare up. It often did these days. In the past he might have tried to control it.

There just wasn't anyone left to drive anymore.

It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair. [color=00a651]"None of it!"[/color] Adrian snapped, swiping his hand across a table to scatter the assorted collection of metal scrap. His most recent haul but it was all worthless. Bullet casings, bits of armor plating, salvaged motor parts...Worthless. Now even his salvaging venture was drying up, no, dried up. He hadn't made any real money in months and he was sure his workshop, the last thing he had now, was bound to be seized next. Then what?

His ire focused in on a piece of branded metal with one obnoxiously prideful logo displayed on it, weathered, but plainly visible. Stark. He might as well be responsible for this. Sure, the Department would have never admitted to it, but they favored his war machines over what Adrian had proposed. The agility of a mechanized wingsuit had advantages, but they didn't see it. They never did. If he could just make the prototype, they'd all see.

[i][color=lightgray][b]Knock. Knock.[/b][/color][/i]

Adrian turned towards the metal garage door as it rattled from the light rapping of a knuckle. He was alone, couldn't afford to hire anyone. It was late so nobody would be coming around. Not unless they wanted trouble. He turned to go for the pistol he kept in his office but the garage violently flung open, the metal shrieking. The noise caught Adrian's attention as he turned, witnessing the largest man he had ever seen step forward. His height was almost too much for the clearance and he even had the girth to be brushing both of his shoulders into the sides of the garage entry.

[b][color=mistyrose]"My apologies for the disturbance."[/color][/b] The man had an eloquent way of speaking but his voice commanded attention, matching his sheer presence. Adrian watched as the man pulled out a money clip and flipped through it, pulling a few Franklins out to present. [b][color=mistyrose]"Consider this compensation for your time. And the door."[/color][/b]

The man approached and Adrian could swear, he felt the concrete underneath shake just as the man had reached him. Adrian took the money but remained still and silent. He didn't even notice the other figures behind the man as his mind stumbled over the question of just how expensive it'd be to get a suit tailored in that size. It was pristinely white as well, without a single crease. 

[b][color=mistyrose]"Now I will not take much of your time, Adrian, but I do have a proposition for you."[/color][/b]

Adrian blinked, focusing again, as he brought his gaze up to meet the man. His eyes narrowed. [color=00a651]"Who are you?"[/color] His aged, gravely voice had always been a point of pride for him because to almost everyone, Adrian sounded tough. Yet here he sounded quiet, meek compared to the other.

[b][color=mistyrose]"Wilson Fisk."[/color][/b] He stated plainly with Adrian opening his mouth to press more questions but he fell short as Wilson continued. [b][color=mistyrose]"Let's not waste words, Adrian. I have a proposition for you, and you are the man for the job."[/color][/b]

[color=00a651]"I am?"[/color] Adrian's voice scraped timidly as he took a step back, out of Wilson's shadow.

[b][color=mistyrose]"Quite right."[/color][/b] Wilson's eyes lifted and he gestured lightly towards a side of the warehouse that Adrian knew without looking. His prototype, almost finished. [b][color=mistyrose]"I can appreciate the passion to one's legacy and as a gift for that legacy, I will offer a forward payment. Complete your work, Adrian."[/color][/b]

Wilson lifted his money clip and extended it towards Adrian. His eyes gleamed with astonishment and he reached out only for Wilson to turn his wrist away at the last moment. [b][color=mistyrose]"Complete your work and then work for me."[/color][/b]

Adrian's eyes shifted from the money to Wilson's. The man had gotten serious, that large round face became like stone hardening with conviction. It didn't feel like a proposition anymore. It felt like a demand.

[color=00a651]"What do you want?"[/color] Adrian straightened himself out, tensing. He tried to stand tall and firm but next to Wilson Fisk, he looked like a child pretending.

Wilson chuckled, his features lightening up as his chest rumbled with the noise. [b][color=mistyrose]"Complete the suit and then as a bonus, I offer a little revenge regarding your past."[/color][/b] Wilson tossed the money clip into Adrian's hands and turned to walk away.

There were so many questions running through Adrian's mind. What had he gotten into? Why did Wilson Fisk want him to complete his suit? Was this enough to complete it? What if..What was.. His past?

[color=00a651]"What revenge? What about my past?"[/color] Adrian wrapped his fingers around the money. He wished he had more to say other than questions, but he hated to admit it. He felt intimidated to do anything else.

[b][color=Mistyrose]"Revenge, Adrian. Revenge. You'll be acquiring something for me from a name I'm sure you'd recognize."[/color][/b] Wilson snapped his finger and a few suited men turned to leave with one remaining by the door. [b][color=mistyrose]"You don't find success in reacting to the market. You get it by being ahead and rumor has it, the President will be losing his number one arms supplier. There is opportunity there. Work with Mister Holmes here as he will assist you in acquiring whatever you need for your suit."[/color][/b]

Wilson turned reaching a hand up to grab the bottom of the garage door that he had violently thrown open before. [b][color=mistyrose]"Then you'll rob Stark for me."[/color][/b] Wilson pulled the door shut, slamming close.

[hr][center][img]https://i.imgur.com/FKDndik.png[/img][/center][hr]

Cindy pulled at her suit, the silk stretching before she released it snapping back. [color=crimson]"Ugh, should have just worn it under my clothes."[/color] She muttered kicking her backpack to slide underneath the rooftop air-conditioner unit. She could feel her clothes be pressed against her by her suit, much to her annoyance. You'd think after almost a year of being Silk, she'd remember these little things that provided irritation. Well it was a lesson to relearn later, conceding to the discomfort as she started to run.

Quickly running out of real estate on the flat roof and approaching the waist-height ledge ahead, she leapt propelling herself as if she were jumper to fall to the street below. Gravity did its work to start pulling her down, under the local rooftop level and into the array of windows flanking on two sides. 

[b][i]TWHIP![/i][/b]

Pointing her index and middle finger like a pistol, she fired a silken thread from both fingers, the two strands spinning and tying together as they were ejected from her fingers. The entwined silk splatted near the top of the building while Silk twirled her wrist to bring the silk rope into her hand, pulling it from her two fingers in a process that was now as natural as breathing.

Clenching tight, she allowed the angle to swing herself using gravity as the force for the inertia. At the point she felt her momentum was slowing, she opened her hand to release the silk rope, leaving it behind as she aimed her other hand in a that finger pistol motion and fired another web line ahead of herself. Cindy had an apt analogy for how this all worked if anyone ever asked. It was like riding a skateboard with the motion of pushing off with one foot to get speed felt intrinsic after some practice. You'd just have a feel for when to let go and ride out through the air before having to "push off" for that speed again.

Nobody ever asked, though.

Following another rotation of web-swinging, Cindy glanced down at the racing police cars with their sirens blaring. They were trying their best down there, but dodging cars and traffic made it slow going. She was easily able to catch up to them, despite having to take time to suit up. That made her wonder. Why is the winged suspect flying low in the first place? And why was he suddenly doubling back to the west down a different avenue? 

Cindy felt a tingle in her head before she heard the noise just as she peaked above the roofline in again. She turned her head to see the distant lights of a rapidly approaching helicopter coming over the East River. The birdman was trying to evade it.

She filed away that information, turning back to try and pick up speed. Even as she passed the police vehicles on the road underneath, she was barely making gains on the man. He had the luxury of flying straight with a pair of turbines on his back. In fact, he'd probably be clear of any pursuers if he pushed those engines if Cindy's guess about the power of those things was right. However, he was barely ahead. Looking lost and she wondered if he would...

There!

The man's mechanical wings turned as he straightened out. He was going to look around and change direction again. The look of a man who lacked confidence, like he was flying for the first time. Cindy calculated an angle she could approach from as she closed in and swung at him, raising both of her legs to plow her heels right into the man's stomach as he turned to survey his pursuers. He hadn't been aware Cindy was on him and his eyes widened moments before the impact.

Cindy felt her feet dig into the man's stomach. Spittle flew from the man's mouth as he was lifted further in the air. Releasing her grip on her web, Cindy fired from both fingers to the nearest rooftop behind the man, reeling herself in as her feet braced against the man to bring him along. 

The wings and jetpack impacted the brickwork first, snapping and breaking into the exterior wall creating a small indentation on which the man sat. Cindy held onto her web threads to keep her feet pressed in and pinning the man.

[color=crimson]"Wow, a bit too old to be joyriding, don't you think?"[/color] Cindy remarked through half-mask. Her eyes narrowed as she considered the man she had pinned. He was busy gasping and sucking air for a response, so she understood the lack of answer. He was old, fifties, maybe? Wearing a standard green mechanic suit like he had just gotten off his shift at the garage. There were even oil stains and grease still on there. 

Her focus shifted to the wings as they seemingly writhed with metal scratching. The wings were segmented at hard angles that all streamed down from the top horizontal spine. It did look a lot like an actual wing if that wing was made of hard angles and metal. It looked pieced together from different machines as well, the colors were non-uniform and clear signs of grinding and shaping. The thing that caught her eye, however, was the membrane that could be seen in between the segments. It was like molten metal that had a non-metallic hue to it. Spending years in Reach custody had told her all she needed to recognize that. It was Reach tech in there.

[color=crimson]"Nice wings, but I think you're breaking about seven different FAA regulations."[/color] Cindy turned back to watch the man still recovering from the shock of having a mule kick to the stomach. Fair, those did hurt. 

[color=00a651]"Shut it... girl..."[/color] He managed to wheeze out a response. Cindy rolled her eyes. [color=crimson]"They always say that. Look, just call me Silk. Not Spider-Girl or girl."[/color] Her time stopping muggers, robbers, and purse snatchers had people always basing her entirely on her gender, even picking the term that was supposed to be more demeaning like a girl can't beat up a guy. Unfortunately for them, she did beat them up so really, using a name other than "girl" was for both of their benefits.

[color=crimson]"Anyway Birdboy, let's see about getting those wings off you and I can lower you down to the police."[/color] Cindy lowered her gaze to the harness around the man. He was strapped abundantly to his pack which made sense giving the amount of energy those turbines could pack. If this were under differing circumstances, she'd start prying for how he managed to pull off a cool rig like this. Sadly, she couldn't.

Cindy dropped one of the webs and reached for the harness. The man, who had been quite occupied with catching his breath scowled, his features wrinkling in his rage. As if responding to that, the turbines whined, whirling up as if starting back up. She could feel the heat rise. Her mind pricked dangerously at the threat.

Shit.

The man's jetpack engaged, firing to burst free. He collided with Cindy awkwardly but with enough force to launch her away, free falling. She took a chin to the forehead in the process. The man's flight trajectory staggered and wobbled but he had begun to rise up above the local roofline.

Cindy pointed both hands at him and fired two lines of webs at him.

[b][i]THWINP! THWINP![/i][/b]

The webs splattered against him, one around the legs and the other on the right wing. That didn't stop him, however, and his turbines roared to life as he accelerated and straightened out to fly straight up. Cindy felt herself yanked as they began to fly up and up...