[quote=@Lord Wraith]
Alright, Webheads, by the rules, you now have 72-hours to submit in-character sample posts for the characters.

May the best Spidey win!
[/quote]

[hider=Spider-Sample][color=darkgray][i]“Dispatch, I’ve got a 10-52 at 5th and Broadway, requesting backup.”[/i][/color]

Truly, I don't know how anyone did superhero-ing before smartphones. Spider-Man can't be everywhere at once, but the NYPD can. With the convenience of police scanner apps, I have the option to sit on the Empire State University quad with my headphones in, basking in the warmth of the afternoon sun, and even getting a little reading done before my next class. Plus, it's always nice to get a pulse for the city. New York is in my blood – right next to the irradiated spider DNA.

[color=darkgray][i]“Unit 3, can you respond to a 10-59 in Midtown?”[/i][/color]

[color=skyblue]“Earth to Peter!”[/color]

I snap out of reverie to see the inimitable Gwendolyn Stacy looking down at me. From the expression on her face, she’s been there for a hot second. Gosh, even when she’s perplexed, she’s still so, [i]so[/i] pretty. [color=c62828]“Sorry, Gwen,”[/color] I chuckle, pulling out one of my earbuds, [color=c62828]“I was on another planet there.”[/color]

She smiles back, and suddenly the sun seems like a dim lightbulb. [color=skyblue]“No worries. Listening to something good?”[/color] she asks with a nod towards my phone.

[color=c62828]“Hmm? Oh, uh… yeah. Just… a podcast. True crime type thing,”[/color] I answer. Clearing my throat, I hurry to change the subject. [color=c62828]“So, what’s up?”[/color]

Gwen shrugs. [color=skyblue]“Just between classes. I was thinking about heading to the Coffee Bean for a midday pick-me-up.”[/color] She shifts her weight, hands wrapped around the straps of her backpack. After another beat, she says, [color=skyblue]“Hey, you’re a biochem major, right? Orgo’s [i]really[/i] kicking my butt. If you’ve got time… I could really benefit from a second set of eyes.”[/color] She offers another half-smile. [color=skyblue]“I’ll buy your coffee?”[/color]

In my life, I’ve learned to expect the unexpected, but even so, I’m still occasionally caught flat-footed. I realize an impromptu tutoring session isn’t exactly a date, but it’s also not [i]not[/i] a date. My pulse quickens, and I try my best to tamp down any eagerness in my voice. [color=c62828]“Yeah, totally. Been there,”[/color] I laugh. It takes everything in me not to immediately spring to my feet. [color=c62828]“Let me just pack up here, and–”[/color]

[color=darkgray][i]“All units, be advised: possible 10-30 in progress at First National Bank. Lone male suspect, possibly armed.”[/i][/color]

Now? [i]Seriously?[/i] Of all the rotten luck in the world, Parker luck is by far the worst. For half a heartbeat, I consider acting like I heard nothing. It’s just one bank robbery; the police can handle it. But if I don’t go, someone could get hurt. Echoes of Uncle Ben’s voice ring in the back of my head. I may hate myself for doing this, but I’ll hate myself even more if I don’t. No one ever said that being a superhero would be easy.

Sighing, I say, [color=c62828]“Actually, Gwen, I just remembered that I promised to help Dr. Connors with some calibrations in the lab. Raincheck on the orgo practice?”[/color]

Her disappointment is evident, but she manages a smile. [color=skyblue]“Of course. I’ll text you.”[/color]

As Gwen turns and walks away, I hurriedly shove my personal items into my backpack and retrieve my mask. The one nice thing about this superhero gig? Very often when you’re so mad that you just want to punch something, a willing volunteer steps forward…

[center]***[/center]

[color=dodgerblue][b]“Alright, you know the drill! Hands where I can see ‘em, and kiss the floor. Anyone tries to be a hero, you’re gonna get yourself hurt.”[/b][/color]

[color=c62828][b]“Well, [i]someone[/i] is about to get hurt, anyway.”[/b][/color]

I plant both heels into the jaw of this would-be bank robber, taking him to the ground. Continuing the arc of my swing, I perch atop a crystal chandelier that probably costs more than Jonah pays me in a year. [color=c62828][b]“Let me guess,”[/b][/color] I say, observing the day’s catch as he scrambles to his feet, [color=c62828][b]“with a ridiculous getup like that – and no gun that I can see – you must be an aspiring supervillain. Wanna tell me your deal before I knock you unconscious, or can we just skip to the end?”[/b][/color]

The man smirks, wiping a trickle of blood from his lip. He’s dressed in a long, blue trenchcoat with a matching beanie. Bright, red hair sticks out from underneath his cap and runs down the sides of his face in barely-kempt mutton chops. [color=dodgerblue][b]“The name’s Captain Boomerang,”[/b][/color] he announces with far too much gravitas, [color=dodgerblue][b]“and [i]this[/i] is my deal.”[/b][/color] With surprising quickness, he reaches into his coat and launches a boomerang at my head. I flip out of danger, but the chandelier isn’t so lucky; the boomerang – which is decidedly [i]not[/i] standard – slices through the chain, sending the fixture crashing to the floor.

[color=c62828][b]“Gross. A boomerang-themed Australian supervillain? Can it still be considered appropriation if it’s your own culture?”[/b][/color] I fire two web lines at Captain Boomerang’s chest, but he produces a new boomerang and cuts through them both. Just then, spider-sense alerts me to a threat from behind. I pirouette just in time to avoid the first boomerang on its return arc. [color=c62828][b]“Also, ‘Captain’ Boomerang? That’s a bit self-aggrandizing, isn’t it? I mean, something tells me you didn’t [i]earn[/i] that rank…”[/b][/color]

[color=dodgerblue][b]“You like to talk, huh?”[/b][/color]

I shrug. [color=c62828][b]“Keeps idiots like you distracted.”[/b][/color] With that, I yank on a web line, pulling one of the teller’s desks at the back of Captain Boomerang’s head. He spins on a heel, launching his boomerang at the last possible moment to split the desk in two. I backflip away from one half before it can take my legs out from under me. By the time I get my head back around, there’s another boomerang inches from my face. My spider-sense blares, and the boomerang suddenly explodes. I’m thrown all the way to the far wall.

[color=dodgerblue][b]“You like that one?”[/b][/color] Captain Boomerang asks, though it’s hard to hear him over the ringing in my ears. [color=dodgerblue][b]“Been waitin’ on an excuse to break it out.”[/b][/color]

I stumble to my feet, still woozy from the explosion. [color=c62828][b]“I feel like…”[/b][/color] I bring a hand to my face, grateful that my mask somehow remained intact – not because I’m worried about my secret identity, but because I don’t want the world to see that Peter Parker got punked by a guy calling himself “Captain Boomerang.” [color=c62828][b]“... it kinda defeats the purpose to create a boomerang that doesn’t come back.”[/b][/color]

He shrugs. [color=dodgerblue][b]“Eh, maybe. But it’s fun.”[/b][/color]

[color=c62828][b]“Oh, you want fun, Chuckles?”[/b][/color] Okay, it’s official: this guy has annoyed me. I could have been sipping coffee across from one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen, but instead I’m here, tussling with Crocodile Dundee. [color=c62828][b]“If so, you just had to ask.”[/b][/color] I tap a finger, switching the nozzle on my web-shooters to the impact web setting. He’s about to learn the danger of annoying someone with access to webs, the proportional strength of a spider, and nowhere to be for the next forty-five minutes…[/hider]