Summary:Blackbird does Anya a big, big favor, in the form of a backpack Log Info:Storyteller: None |
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|ROLL| Anya Corazon +rolls 1d20 for: 13
Its a bright and beautiful day in Spanish Harlem. East Harlem, as most people call it, but for the minority population who've lived here for decades, it will always be Spanish Harlem, regardless of what the gentrifiers want to call it.
Anya Corazon is emerging from a bodega with three paper bags stuffed full of groceries. She and the shop owner are exchanging fire in rapid, conversational Spanish, a heated but friendly conversation, considering the way she's grinning.
The young woman wears black shorts with studs on them, a torn up NIN t-shirt, somewhat damaged black fishnets and a pair of well-worn combat boots. They might have once been Doc Martens, but they've undergone some haphazard repairs in order to extend their life span.
Helena likes the spider-people. Who knows why? Maybe it's the super-powers, the awesome tech, and the snappy banter. Or maybe it's just that they're mostly her own age and don't have all the baggage that comes with all of the bats. But either way, she's decided to help out a few of them the best way she can. Being raised by Batman and Catwoman means secrecy is second-nature.
Just a block away from Anya, she's perched on the end of a fire escape, waiting for her to pass. Once she catches sight of her, she whistles a questioning note, clearing her throat. Without the sound, there's not much to see. Swathed in that black suit and black cape, with her hood and her mask, she blends easily with the shadows.
An apple is chucked out of the bodega toward Anya's head, but she snatches it out of the air with a grin before it can strike her in the noggin. Then she's off, trundling down the street with bags in arm and a backpack over her shoulders.
The upturned whistle snatches her eye, and the young woman stood up short. When she spots Helena and recognizes the suit, there is a brief moment of panic. "Mierde," she curses under her breath, while checking the street with hurried glances. Then she ducks into the alley, peering up at the fire escape. "Yo, I didn't steal these, okay?" she claims.
Really, Anya? Playing dumb? It's hard for her not to hide the grimace.
"Yeeeeah, I know that." Blackbird hops down from the balcony, and even through the mask and the voice modulator, the smirk that comes with that comment is obvious. "I know that, because I also know that you spend your free time stopping other people from doing things like stealing."
She moves a little deeper into the alley, where a dumpster blocks the view from the street. "Wanna guess how?"
Knuckles tighten around the bags she carries, but Anya reluctantly ventures into the alley, her eyes narrowed just so. Once she's behind the dumpster, she shifts the groceries just a bit to avoid fidgeting. Her mind is racing.
Was it the burner phone? Anya is too young to realize just how smart she is; the defensive precautions she's made with that burner phone would take someone of serious mental caliber to undo, but she just doesn't get that.
"Gotta be the hips," she quips, a shield against a sudden case of self doubt. "Hips don't lie, ya know?"
"I mean, in theory, I guess I could probably work up a biometric read, but that's way too much data to sort through on idle curiosity." Blackbird sounds like she's actually thinking that through as she says it. Batman is the ultimate straight man - she's at least picked up that much of his sense of humor.
"But no. Pretty simple." She reaches back into the folds of her cape, and when she brings her hand back out, there's a svelte backpack in it. "Yours is…pretty distinctive."
Anya's face immediately goes red, and her mouth drops open. Spider-Man had warned her, and she'd taken every opportunity to hide what she could! Even going so far as to think about just how she cuts or dyes her hair, so that when it's shoved up into a (gag) ponytail under her hood, those modifications remain hidden.
How did she miss that?
The bags almost slip out of her hands, but with a quick and agile motion, she catches them. "… fuck!" The groceries are quickly webbed to a wall, and she reaches up to run a hand through her hair. "Oh my god. Oh my god!" Turning around, she paces a little, chewing at her lip. "Jesus fuck how could I he such a cabron!"
Blacbird shrugs, trying to downplay it at least a little bit when Anya takes it that hard. "Because when most people get into this, it's not…something they plan before they do it," she suggests, turning to press the bag lightly against the webbing until it sticks in place. Although she watches it for an extra second too, just to make sure that works.
"You get powers, one way or another. You have some fun with them. You accidentally do some good. You realize hey, that's probably what you should be doing. You cobble some stuff together. And then you learn as you go. Right?"
Finally settling some, Anya turns back around to face Blackbird, still only knowing her from, ya know… the Avengers mansion and teaming up against the Snake from Hell. She sighs and nods.
"This is my neighborhood," she explains with a hand gesture. "No one knows it like me, I couldn't just sit around and ignore the cop sirens every night." Her tone sobers. "I didn't expect to get caught up in all this- this other crazy shit. Few notches up from webbing up dope boys and petty thieves."
"Hey, I'm not judging," Blacbird shakes her head, raising both hands. "You made a choice to use your powers to help people. That's the important part. But, you know. I kind of like you…guys. Girls. Spider…people." The last comes out wry, accompanied by another shrug. "So I figure better that I figure it out and let you know than some would-be gang-banger puts two and two together and starts holding the neighborhood hostage, you know?"
She pauses for a moment, considering her words. "The thing is, whatever choice you want to make about how you do this, that's up to you. The Avengers, everyone knows who they are. They're great. Batman's a secret, and now that's made it easier for someone to put a witch hunt on him. But the people he cares about are safe. It's a trade-off. It's just…one that should be a choice, not a mistake."
"We're kinda turning into an infestation," Anya remarks with mild agreement and a rueful smirk. Turning away from Blackbird, she approaches the webbed up backpack, considering it for a moment while listening to what the masked woman tells her.
"I can't put them at risk," she answers, looking over her shoulder at Blackbird. "Mi familia." Glancing down, she utters to herself, "No podria vivir conmigo mismo si se lastimaran porque si esto."
"Yeah, me neither." Blackbird leans one shoulder against the wall, watching Anya with those bright golden eyes. "One of the catches about having friends doing it, too. Everyone gets…tangled. Someone figures out your identity, it starts to get easier to figure out the identity of someone else you work with. Then it's their family, too."
She takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly against the mask that covers the lower half of her face. "I didn't mean to scare you, but honestly, it was easier to figure out where you you would be than, you know, Spider-Girl. And I didn't want to wait in case someone else put two and two together."
The frown turns into a thoughtful one. Her activist brain is kicking in, and she's drawing parallels between people who wanted registration and… similar instances drawn throughout history.
"I feel like an idiot," she admits. "I mean, I thought of everything. Just, not everything. But it's better it was you, and not someone else, like, like one of those Nightfall assholes."
She looks back over toward Blackbird with curiosity, but that expression soon settles into one of acceptance. This one will have to be a one-way street, and that's just something she's gonna need to be okay with.
"Firewall," Blackbird says ruefully. "To the extent possible, at least. Try to keep anything that you use in this life out of your civilian life. And anything you use in civilian life, keep it out of this life. You can get away with some crossover if things are public enough that one side of you would reasonably know it without actually knowing the other side, but you still want to limit it. Too much overlap and people start to notice."
Pushing off the wall, she brushes herself off. True to her word, there's just not much to see of her - a silhouette behind the cape and the hood, those golden eyes that leave a strong impression. Hard to tell if there are heels in her boots, or even her precise build. She glances to the backpack, a wry note in her voice. "To which effect, is there somewhere you'd like me to leave that where Spider-Girl can pick it up?"
Daunting realization comes upon Anya; she's gonna need to completely scrap her senior thesis. Arana has already been used in the field; she'll have to sabotage the school project.
Or tell SHIELD to kiss her ass, which is similarly tempting.
"Top of the mid-rise, 3rd and 121st. Northwest corner. And thanks." A meaningful expression fills her angular face. "You Bat-people aren't so bad yourselves." She turns to collect her groceries, but pauses an looks back, fire in her expression. "Pretty sure Batman's being set up, by the way. Happy to help find the assholes responsible and send 'em a message, Spanish Harlem style."
If Helena's ever met a true blue hood rat, she'll understand. Anya might be unique among the other spider-folk in that she's got no qualms in breaking someone's jaw if they deserve it.
"Oh, he's for sure being set up," Blacbird snorts softly. "He doesn't kill. And he's had a lot more reason to cross that line in the past than some weird conspiracy theorists. But thanks," she adds with a low laugh. "But maybe stick with just detaining them. If someone's trying to set him up, they've got to have a bigger reason. We definitely need to know what it is."
"Hey, your familia, your rules." Anya grins, and flicks a two fingered salute at Blackbird. "Hey, and thanks." She nods to the backpack, her tone meaningful. "Seriously. Pretty sure I spent every free penny I've got on food. Organic webbing? Makes me hungry as a horse." She finally turns and heads back toward the alley. "Keep it cool, Blackbird."
"Calorie-dense supplements," Blackbird grins behind her mask. "Next project." She winks, freeing the bag and a little of the webbing with a flick of one clawed finger. Might as well make sure the supplements contain the right vitamins and minerals! "You too, Spider-Girl. I'm sure I'll be seeing you soon."