Turn, turn, turn…
One week later…
The abandoned warehouse that Marcus and Scott had commandeered shortly after they confirmed Scott’s suspicions was dead silent, a marked difference compared to the activity that had filled it just seconds before. They had been using it to practice their sparring. Or, rather, Scott had been practicing. Marcus’ only “practice” was an exercise in futility. Despite being faster and stronger than his friend by a wide margin, it didn’t matter when your opponent could see all of your moves
literally several seconds before you made them. Despite being able to predict Marcus’s moves, Scott had to keep on his toes. He’d never had to tangle with someone who was that quick, or whose punches were that powerful. It had Scott sweating, and not just from the workout he was getting. Marcus got a little… frustrated, if he was being honest. And something inside him had… responded.
Violently.Marcus stared, wide-eyed, at the massive chunk that had been torn out of the pillar behind Scott. Even with his reflexes, Scott had barely escaped being decapitated by a blade of darkness that had streamed from Marcus’ thrown punch like a liquid blade. Marcus stared over at his friend, then to his hand, still streaming vantablack vapor. Scott’s mask was twisted to the side, and several strands of hair drifted to the floor.
”So.” His voice trembled slightly as he tried to joke his way out of this situation.
”Apparently I can do that now.”
Two weeks later…
Marcus’ new abilities threw a new wrench into the works of their scheme, and neither of them had any explanation for it- enhanced physical ability was one thing. Marcus’ weaker, but still potent, reactive senses were another. Deadly shadows didn’t have any correlation to anything Scott had. And if that were the case…
”...then there’s no telling what the others might have. If they have additional powers like I do.”Of course, this didn’t deter them in the slightest. If anything, this just spurred Marcus further. It was almost a game, now. A competition. And that meant that he’d treat it like any other competition- by throwing himself in full-force.
Of course, sometimes that phrase is more literal than others, he thought, his breath wheezing as he pulled himself up the lip of the building’s roof that he’d swung to, the shade-swathed jacket just barely shielding his torso from the impact of his almost-failed swing.
His powers were getting more potent, elaborate. Sharp blades weren’t the only things his shadows could replicate. They could form just about anything he wanted to, if he focused hard enough. Armor. Weapons. And, in this case, webs, of a sort.
Which was a boon for Scott, considering how hard it was to make more of that fluid. They needed to save up every ounce they could manufacture, so Marcus’ powers having the function baked in was a godsend.
Not that it meant anything if he couldn’t actually use it properly. Hence why he was out here, in the dead of night, jumping from rooftop to rooftop, in an attempt to replicate that liquid grace he’d seen his friend swing with. Turns out, even enhanced agility wasn’t a substitute for practice. And Scott had two years’ worth of a head start on the redhead.
Marcus crouched slightly, wincing as he eyed the next gap he was supposed to jump across. It would be a doozy if he missed. Or worse.
He grimaced.
”Nothing ventured,” he muttered, before bursting into a run.
He’d get this down. He had to.
Three weeks later…
There was a soft, distinct
plak as Scott released the mismatched portions of newspaper smacked against the table.
“
So, here are all the potential leads I’ve found. It’s not a lot, but… that’s almost a good thing,” he moved he top sheet of newspaper to reveal a front-page headline, “
Almost.”
The aforementioned headline read ‘
Robbery at Hardt Corp. Warehouse’. Scott shuffled to a middle page of the other paper, wearing a denim jacket over his costume, sans mask.
Marcus looked up at Scott, his fingers entwined with shadowy strings as he played a twisted game of Cat’s Cradle with his powers. It made for surprisingly good practice.
He raised an eyebrow at Scott’s choice of outfit.
”...You sure it’s a good idea, going out in that outfit? A little conspicuous, isn’t it?” “
Well, I’m not going to go swinging without it,” he remarked.
Folding the top back, he rolled to a smaller article, indicating it with his finger.
“
Here, a convenience store robbery, two assailants, three civs’ involved in the hold up, one was the cashier, the other two bailed,” he turned the paper around so Marcus could see it, “
The cashier reports being saved by a skinny guy in a ski-mask. The front-desk robber had his face pushed in- nasal cartilage rupture. And his partner- complete dislocation of the meniscus in his left knee, with other associated injuries. September sixth. I’m guessing the masked guy’s our mark. Sounds like a bit of a wild-card though,” he trailed off.
Marcus grimaced. “Wild card” was an understatement- it sounded like they nearly caved in someone’s face, robber or no.
Scott rifled to another page of a different paper, separating it from the previous one with a finger, “
And here- there’s not much on it, but an unconscious man was found in an alley by a coffee shop with a bloody knife. Had priors for aggravated assaults, muggings, theft, that kind of thing, Type one dirtball. Obviously there’s no statement given to the media from him. Heck, some people think it was me. But it wasn’t, or I wouldn’t be telling you about it. Plus I leave them restrained, and call it in after. Anyway, I think this is someone else.”
Marcus smirked and shrugged.
”You never know. Could have a Fight Club-type thing going on, someone hijacking you while you’re asleep. We have superpowers, anything’s possible.” Scott shot Marcus a strained look, one that said ‘please don’t’, as he cleared his throat, “
That one was probably stronger than me. The perp was tapped out a few less shots than it’d take for me. You know I’m a wrestler. And this one, on the seventh,” he cleared the other papers away, showing off the headline page that had been shown for a brief moment, “
No alarm trips, no one saw anything, very specific items stolen from kind of a high-rolling business. So, normally I’d suspect an inside job, but...” he half-folded the page to a picture on the follow-up page.
It was a capture from the security footage, two frames side-by side. The first looked like a lump of shadow up in the corner, the second, a stretched blur up towards a window, the caption asking for readers to call the police if they had any information. By themselves, the images would look like displaced shadows, but together, and knowing what they knew, it indicated something different.
“
If that’s not someone with spider-powers, I don’t know what it is. And from the looks of it,” Scott turned to look at Marcus, “
It seems they can do that thing you can do, too,” the papers were placed on the table, and he took a seat, “
We need a game-plan.”
Marcus looked over the papers. There was a lot to cover in just three newspapers, and who knows how much else online, on TV, and so on. Game plan? They needed a task force. Marcus shuffled in his chair, folding his arms.
“
I can read your moves, but I can’t read your mind,” Scott chimed in, perhaps a bit impatient.
Marcus shrugged,
”It’s… complicated, no matter how we slice it. I’m getting better with my powers, but there’s still a lot we don’t know about these other… spiders. I’m just… hesitant. I’ve never done something like this before.” “
Yeah, this is… a lot. Which is why I knew I couldn’t go in blind, or alone. As much as I hate to say this, you’re kind of in this now, Marcus. Whoever did… you know, this, they made that decision for a bunch of other people, and I have a feeling this isn’t the end of it either. I don’t want you- or anyone else for that matter, getting E.T.’d out of nowhere because they were sloppy or … worse,” he gave the pile of newspaper articles a tap, then let out a deep breath, “
But yeah, we basically have no idea what we’re walking into each time. I don’t know if they’ll just have a copy of either yours or mine, or if the extra powers get more,” he hesitated for a moment, “
extra. I can’t even begin to process the eccentricity here, only knowing what the two of us can do- sorry for going clinical there. This would be fascinating if it weren’t so terrifying,” came a rather calm admission, and then silence.
Marcus stared at the papers for another few seconds, then picked one up. He shrugged.
”Well… we’ve come this far. It’d be a little silly to back out now.”
October 10th, 20XX
Approximately one month since the Recluse Incident
Manhattan, New York City, NY
Marcus rolled fluidly as he landed from his leap, smoothly tumbling to his feet as though he’d never left the ground. One solid perk of these spider powers is that, with his increased balance and senses, he was learning a lot faster than he would have before. Not to mention, he had his prior experience with freerunning. Web-slinging and swinging was still a slightly more dubious prospect for him, but parkour? That, he could do.
Helps that I have a safety net built in at all times, he thought to himself. He looked around, the Empire State Building gleaming in the (not-so) distance.
Damn. Screw the subway, I made pretty good time here from Brooklyn.Marcus took a deep breath, a grin on his face underneath his appropriated motorcycle helmet.
His “costume,” as it were, was simple enough. All it took was his riding leathers, then a thin-yet-durable layer of shadows enveloping the whole ensemble, and voila: instant superhero.
”Everything okay on your end?” he asked, hoping the Bluetooth earset he was wearing hadn’t been jostled loose during his journey. Or worse, that his phone had fallen out of his pocket. Nope, still there. Thank the gods for zippers…
“
Locked and loaded. I’ll scan the low road on my way, you keep your eyes on the high road. Oh, a bit of future-proofing- mind keeping a few extra shots of webbing on you for me when we do these joint ventures? Since I can’t figure out a way to make it more efficient, it would help if I could reload between bouts. Only if you have room though,” Scott chimed in, “
Oh, and we might want to work on a dedicated line instead of using public phone lines. I have some old AV stuff from my dad that I could repurpose.”
”I don’t see why not. It’s not like I need to carry much of anything. And yeah, private channels, got it,” said Marcus, before breaking out into a run. It was almost unbelievable how much faster he was now. He almost felt like he could take on a car in a sprint. He leaped off the edge of the building, letting out a crow of delight as the adrenaline hit.
“
Cool cool. Oh, and I know it doesn’t matter much, but thought of a name?-” there was the telltale sound of Scott’s webshooter firing off, a sort of hydraulic sound that indicated he was on the move, “
And could you cut the feed before you do that next time? I don’t know what that was, but it was loud.”
Fwpsh!Marcus grimaced at his faux pas, as his shadows lashed out, grabbing onto another nearby building. The tether ran taut, and Marcus rushed in, wall-running along the edifice before kicking off into the night.
”My bad. I’ll try to be more careful. Over.”
Can I reach my earset with my shadows? I’ll try it once I’m stationary again. Damn helmet’s too bulky.He grabbed onto the edge of a building ahead with two shadow strands, heaving himself up and over the rim, and landing on the roof with a dismount that would make Olympic gymnasts green with envy. He paused, thinking about Scott’s earlier question. After a moment of thought, he grinned.
”…call me Wolf Spider. I think that fits, don’t you? Over.” “
Nice. Kinda fits with how… startling that shadow-fang thing you can do is. Not that we go around announcing our presence, but it’s better than the papers giving you a name. I mean, at least they settled on ‘Strand’ for me. Could you imagine if they tried calling me stupid like ‘Wally Mc Crawly’ or ‘Spider-Man’ or something? Anyway- bus station half-way between us. Meet me on the building behind it, east wall. Radio silence unless something goes sideways. Over and out.”
Fwpsh!
-beep- 
GubGar
