2019-06-15 - Send in the Clones


Spidey meets another Spidey, with some odd titles being thrown around…

Log Info:

Storyteller: None
Date: Sat Jun 15 00:00:00 2019
Location: Downtown NYC

Related Logs


Theme Song



How long has he been on this planet? Willingly marooned in this reality, he stopped counting the days around the time he stopped looking for another escape route. Acceptance led Ben Reilly to a strange sort of equilibrium. A normal life, as it were. A normal job. Boring. Easy.

It was driving him completely insane.

Things ramped up when crossing paths with an old flame, his destiny altered drastically. He's gone from casual observer of the various Spidery identities in the city to actively hunting down information. Mostly internet searches, word of mouth. He's made a few rough outlines. Territories. Spider-Man in particular. It's on a late Sunday night that Ben decides to put things in motion.

It starts with a shout of surprise down at the edge of an apartment complex park. Then more shouts. A muffled VVRRRRT!! And shouts turn into screams. Chaos errupts as what looks like a crowd gathered to watch a street busker has dispersed in absolute mad fashion. A pop of light. Like a flash bang without the bang. VVRRRRT!! Another flash.

Peter is on patrol. It's always been like this. Webslinging helps him think, helps him focus, and he finds the activity calming. Except for those little moments that make him wonder if he's cut out for this.

The chaos attracts his attention, and he swings around to land on a light pole overlooking the scene, hoping the light will illuminate the situation for him.

When Spider-man lands on the upward arch of the street light, the orange flourescent flickers. The scene below is one of confusion as twenty people scattter in starts and jumps. Some more than others. Some jumping completely from existance.

Wait, what was that?

VRRRRTTT!! Light flashes after that weird thrumming chirp. It's then that Peter sees a young man of about twenty-three, in full on sprint away from a very confused looking mime who's waving his hands wildly. Shouting, yes… shouting, that it's not his fault. The young man in basketball shorts, pale as moonlight, suddenly -VANISHES-. More screams, people spread out further. The taco truck slamming down the service window with a bang!

VRRRRRTTT!! A middle aged woman in business casual -APPEARS- in the middle of the street, a slow moving taxi slamming on the brakes in hopes of stopping in time as she screams. All the while, something the size of a Pepsi can lays on the sidewalk. Vibrating. Arching energy in a dizzying display across the known spectrum of light. Rather beautiful if not wildly dangerous and or unstable.

It looks dangrous, but he has to do SOMETHING. The first order of business is to get that can thing away from the street level.

He jumps to the wall, then fires a webline at the can, hoping to snag it.

It's a common theme in Peter Parker's life. Choice and consequence. One seemingly smart play sometimes shows the underlying faults or offers a completely unforseen or avoidable outcome. When Spider-Man fires off a web line, it THWAPS! against the metal object, knocking it a couple feet in a bounce or two across the thick, healthy grass.

What he -maybe- didn't expect or see was that teh reappearing Miss Business Casual catching a web line square in the back. A strand of webbing launched from the shadows jerks her out from the path of the taxi, brakes squeeling as it stops what would have been a foot too short.

Spider-Man chose the dangerous device and wisely so. The webbing covering it, concealing the light and muffling the energy output. He snagged it, silenced it but the little device is still very much active!

vvrrrrrtt! Muffled, no-one else vanishes. Yet. But the pale, lanky kid in basketball shorts reappears. Screaming his head off as he runs face first into the light post Spider-Man perched atop. THUNK. Thud. Out cold.

Spidey winces as the pole thrumms with the force of the impact. He begins checking it over, lookeing for a panel, or a lead, or even a switch to turn off. He had to make sure it wouldn't turn on again. He glanced down at the guy, wincing again. He's out.

Oh, that dude is WAY out. Goose egg knot on his forehead already. Luckily, a friend is nearby and rushes to the young mans aid. Up above, Spider-Man has more pressing matters at hand. Having pulled in the device, he's got a good look at it. It actually -IS- housed in a Pepsi can. Or parts of it to form a body. Peeling teh aluminum back reveals a spider shaped do-dad about the size of three 9 Volt batteries taped together. Spilling light and… VRRRRT!!!

For a split second, his Spider-Sense flares. Light flashes. Everything looks like the contrast has been cranked up to max and the dial ripped off. People below point up at him, gasping. Shouting that he's gone. He's disappeared. Vanished. Oh, and what's that? Flipping it over reveals the off switch. A little arrow painted next to it.

Across the street, on the rooftop, stands an athletic looking figure. Dark against the lights behind him. Arms crossed. Is… is he wearing a mask? Or is he bald?

The woman down on the sidewalk picks herself back up, dazed and bruised from being jerked out from the path of a taxi by a possibly unseen or accounted for Spider Person(tm).

He isn;t sure what to do. When you get into crazy stuff like this, you have to toss the instruction manual and go on gut instinct. What he does have ins his Spider-Sense. So, he reaches for the switch, waiting for the buzz in the back of his skull. It if intensifies, he has to find another option. If it doesn't…turn it off, and hope for the best…

Crazy stuff. It accounts for perhaps 63 percent of every heroes schedule. Or so Ben has been told. Experienced. Whichever. Watching Spider-Man from a safe distance, arms crossed over his chest. Back lit and inscrutible.

Down streetside, Spider-Man has his hands full. That Spider-Sense doesn't flare back up as he nears the off switch. It doesn't intensify by now people are pointing cellphones up at him. And just like that, the buzzing stops. The light goes out.

VRRRRTT!! Gasps! Someone drops their phone. A young blonde girl, sporty in her jogging gear, exclaims suddenly 'He's Back!' A few cheers. Some clapping. The general consensus being that Spider-Man has vanished and re-appeared like the others. He's saved the day? But why does it feel so… hollow? So fixed?

Probably because it was.

Spidey tucks the unit in his backpack, the spiffy red-and-blue one with the spider symbol on the back. He was going to have to analyze it later.
He waves to everyone, then says, "Take care of yourselves, and have a good summer!" Having provided wry glances and friendly words, he fires a webline and sends a call to 911 to send EMTs to his location to tend to the hurt and dazed. Then off he goes, but only as far as the tall skyscraper where he hopes not to get any visitors.

Across the street, six stories up, Ben Reilly sucks his teeth and chides himself. Watching Spider-Man pocket the tech-trinket, he takes a step to the edge of the roof and peers down to make sure everyone was accounted for. Content with the results, he pulls the sleeve of his jacket back to expose a webshooter.


Off he goes. Expertly swinging low, building speed and rocketing upward, a dark shape speeds past Spider-Man toward the very skyscraper he was heading to. No costume on this person?! Nope. Jeans. Leather jacket. Blue hood pulled up from under the brown leather.

Ben Reilly lands ahead of Spider-Man. Crouched against the side of a massive air cooling unit.

"So. We need to talk."

Annnd no trigger on the Spider-Sense again, right after someone blasts past him in the slow lane.
Okay, there are no lanes, but it's the PRINCIPLE of the thing.

He lands on the ledge of the tall building, which took more than a single bound. He eyes the guy in the hoodie and tilts his head.

"Am I to take it the doodad I just picked up is connected to you?" he asks carefully.

That -IS- an odd thing, isn't it? When that Spider-Sense doesn't go off, it can surely be a source of anxiety for Ben. He relies on it so heavily, after all. Watching Spider-Man land, Ben spreads his arms wide. Palms up. Nothing in his hands, nothing up his sleeves. A truly defenseless stance… for anyone else.

"Yeeeeaaaah. I mean, I could have gone about that different but really, what are the odds that you're going to go to the same Indian restaurant as me? A message on the stall wouldn't cut it." Hopping down, his sneaker clad feet crunch gravel. Relaxed posture. Easy stride. Almost too casual. "So then I say to myself: 'Self, what would get your attention?' And now we're here."

He points with both hands, a slim smile on his scruffy mug. "Non-lethal. Working on stealth technology. Shrinking it down is a real pain in the ass. The energy displacement is wild. Harmless. But that's not why I did this and I'm preeeetty sure you have a hunch why."

Spider-Man frowned behind the mask. "Okay…so, on the off-chance I'm having one of my stupid days, maybe you can draw me a picture? I'm here now…so clue me in, buddy." He doesn't go into his backpack, yet. The chat is more interesting. But he has run into a LOT of Spiders in the past couple of months.

Ben smiles all the wider. Amused. When he talks, and he does at length, he tends to make a great deal of hand movements. Energetic. "We both know you don't have too many of those." He laughs, shakes his head and waves it off. Very aware of his device and where it resides, "You've run into a lot of Spider People lately. I'll cut you some slack. But all signs point to -you- being the Spider of Note. Arachnid Prime. You're Spider-Man." Walking closer still, he lofts an eyebrow curiously. "I didn't look yet. I didn't want to know. But I kind of need to. Do we still have an Uncle Ben? Did he die here too?" Bold move, Ben. But one far less bold than straight up asking if he was Peter Parker.

Spider-Man freezes. He looks at the one talking about his Uncle Ben. Arachnid Prime?
It takes him a few moments, then he asks, "One question. Who was the worst person you ever dealt with growing up?"
If he says Flash Thompson, that's the wrong one. He's a gimme for being a bastard.
But Flash was only a bastard. There was another…and he was a BEAST.

When Spider-Man goes still, Ben knows he hit the nail on the head. It was a 50/50 shot and he knew it but a gamble is a gamble and you don't win if you don't play. Ben tilts his head aside, eyes narrowing ever so slightly when the tables turn. "Flash was a jerk but manageable. Carl? Oh, Carl was special." Ben waggles a finger as he makes his choice. "This is all really, really weird and I'm sorry, bud. I'm about to make it weirder."

Spider-Man seems to grow very very still. But he steels himself. "Okay…whoever you are. Make it weirder."
There is a part of him that infers what he might see, but that may not be possible. He has to see for himself. He has to know for sure.

Ben snap-points and chuckles, a mirthless laugh. "Band-aid method. Yeah, you're you." Taking in a deep breath, he lets it back out in a forced sigh. Centering his chi, as it were. "My name is Ben Reilly. I'm a clone of Peter Parker from a different reality. Same Earth. But not. I…" He laughs nervously, hands fidgeting. He pauses to collect his suddenly racing thoughts. "I'm you but not you. I spent the last three years bouncing between a place like Hell and a various realities, dimensions, dreams and nightmares." Looking down, he kicks at the gravel absently. "I've been here for months just watching you guys. I… I had to say something. Anything. You don't owe me a thing, Pete. I want to be clear on that. But I wanted to be honest with you. Because… well, I'm… you-ish?"

Two montsh ago, he would have said this was the weirdest situation he's ever been in. But that was two weeks ago. And he has SEEN things.
"One one ago, I would have you fitted for a spider-silk straightjacket. But that was then and this is now." He suddenly fires webs around them, throwing up walls of spidersilk to block the view of anyone who might even be looking casually in their direction. "Okay…let me see your face. No one else can see it right now. I have to see this, because the rest has weird but other explanations that could fit…"

"Hey, I wouldn't blame you either." Ben agrees without hesitation. When Peter hops down to give them a web walled level of privacy, he doesn't bat an eye. He does, however, help out and fill in some structural blanks with his own webbing.

When asked to see his face, Ben shrugs non-challantly. Pulling that blue wool hood back, running a hand through his hair and offering a wide, toothy and awkward smile. Like a 5th Grade class photo smile. Unshaven for a week or two. Clearly older. A touch different. Not identical twin levels of WHOA here but siblings? Maybe. Probably. "Tadaa. You have an interdimensional clone."

Ben gestures to Peter with a flippant little waggle of the fingers. "You don't have to take yours off. It's cool, man. I didn't even bring mine anyway. I, uh… haven't really put the costume on in a long time."

Spider-Man looks at him. There's a lot in this guy's favor. He already knows his name. And too many of the dots connect. He took one deep breath…then nods. "Okay…I suppose I can give you the benefit of the doubt. Besides…you're not the only universe-hopper. We have one who had me as a mentor and grew up learning how, in an alternate universe. Learning…how to be a hero." He relaxes slightly. "Well…you're here. You said you've been here for months?"

"Thanks, Pete. Look, last thing I want is to cause too much trouble." Says the guy who -just- used stealth technology on civilians to get his attention. Ben Reilly offers a lopsided smirk and a hand for a shake. "Which one is that? The lady one, the girl one, the one in black or… man, there are a lot of us." He chuckles.

"Couple months, yeah. Believe it or not, a blind Asgardian actually got me here. Was stuck in the Dark Dimension for, I dunno. Year or two? Before that, Limbo for god knows how long. It's been a thing. But yeah. Employed. Got a nice apartment. -Not- fighting crime."

Spider-Man takes a deep breath. "Well…no one's going to make you do this. And i'm the last person who will guilt-trip anyone into it. And you've made a life for yourself, which is also good." It is true. If what he has described is any indication, he's paid his dues.
He pauses for a moment, then says, "Yes…Uncle Ben was killed in this world. I'm sorry."

"Pete. I'm a clone of you. Not you, obviously, a different you but I think that says enough. We both know it's just a matter of time before I do something I'll regret." He says with a wry smile. That deep, unending sense of responsibility. Can't be helped. "It's a life but a weird one. I think I'm dating a demon monarch again?" Ben shrugs it off with a light laugh and shake of the head. What can you do, right?

He sobers at the truth of Uncle Ben being lost here too. But something… something is different. A thought in the back of his head. 'But does he have to be?' Ben clears his throat and nods in acceptance. "Sorry, Pete. I was hopeful. For you." He changes subjects quickly. "How close are you to the other Spiders?"

Spidey smiles wryly. "We have our own comm system now. Built into the suits for most of them. I think it is safe to say we are fairly close. Listen if you are thinking about getting into the heroing thing again, I'm not going to say no. I'm even re-vamping this suit and fabricating others."

"Go figure. A communications web." Ben says with no small amount of amusement. A faint smirk on his face, hands on his hips. "I'll… " Here it is. The moment he knew he couldn't resist. "You know, I've got some ideas and a knack for this. Now, this is -just- if you want. I can lend a hand with some of that. The mods. The fabrication. I'm no Iron Man but I have a few tricks to share. Besides, maybe it'll help the others out too."

Spider-Man nods. "We could use all the help we can get. Really. Ben…" Geez, that pulled at him. "Okay. Give me a few days and I can see about introducing you to the others. And then we can go from there. Do you have some kind of number, or another way we can reach out to you?"

"We kind of play it fast and loose, don't we?" He asks rhetorically. The pause from Peter is noticed and Ben inwardly winces. Unsure of how soon he's lost this realities Uncle Ben. He doesn't press the issue. Instead he offers a plain white card with pen on it. "My phone number. Email. Text, call, whatever. I'm not hard to find." He pauses now, a look of tense curiousity. "What's your take on SHIELD and all that?"

Spidey looked to him. "I…well, I haven't really passed judgment on them yet. They did kelp out one of the other Spiders when she was wounded. So…so far, they get a pass from me on that alone." He takes the card. "I'll try to get a Spider-Comm rig set up for you if you decide to take up heroing again. But no one will think any less of you if you don't. If they do, they're going to get an earful from me."

"Good to know." Ben says. His rebelious streak having hardened into paranoia. Years stuck in Limbo will do that to a guy, you know? SHIELD gets a pass from Parker, they get a pass from Ben. For now.

"Hold one for me. I'll probably take it sooner or later." He says with a shrug and a light trace of a well meaning smile. "The Scarlet Spider is a fan favorite, after all. If any others want to get in touch, hand them the information, Pete. Least I can do is help out family. Extended or not. That extends to you too, Peter. It's… weird, I know… but I'm around. Oh. Gonna need that doodad back." He says with an outstretched hand. Waiting for his stealth contraption.

Spider-Man ohs, then reaches into the backpack, taking out the webbed doodad. He hands it over, saying, "Sorry…that stuff will degrade in a couple of hours."

Taking it back, Ben stows it in his beat up messenger bag. "Yeah. I know. I make it too." He taps his temple and smiles a little smugly. "I also have all the memories. For better or worse. It's hard sometimes but the benefits are nice. The crushing sense of imposter syndrome is a bummer but, you know… I'm -great- at math." He laughs at that.

Spider-Man chuckles slightly. "Okay. I believe you a little more now." He looks around. "I'll tell the others, give them your contact info if they want it…and we'll see what happens. For what it's worth, I am glad you are doing better." He steps forward to shake Ben's hand.

Ben shares the laugh on that one, nodding in understanding. Parker Guilt is a genetic staple. "We've all got busy spidery things to do. No rush and no expectations, Pete." That said, he takes the offered hand for a firm shake. "Yeah? We'll see how long it lasts." He chuckles before nodding toward the skyline. "Alright, get on out there. The city needs Spider-Man tonight."

Spider-Man nods, hopping over the web-wall. It'll be gone in a couple of hours, anyway. "Take care of yourself…we'll be in touch."

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License