Summary:A robber ducks into the wrong shop to hide… Log Info:Storyteller: None |
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SoHo still has a fair number of galleries and studios among the buildings in the area. Sandwiched by one of the larger warehouse-buildings is a less obtrusive studio. The sign on the building says, "Carpenter Studios." with a smaller font underneath reading, "Armor. Weapons. Accessories." Displays on the front show a variety of replicas of medieval armor and weapons, as this place in particular is pretty popular with the SCA as well as local cosplayers.
Currently, the sign is flipped to 'Open' by the door, though the front display area is currently unoccupied… but with all things in New York City, that can change pretty quickly, especially since there are security cameras on the ceiling and by the door.
"I love to swing-a…in the sun and the moon and the spring-a..I love to sing-a…"
Spider-Man is in, as Buford T. Justice would say, in HOT PURSUIT. The car holding the two armed thieves was swaying badly as it lurched down the street, but the flat rear tire was slowing them down and spoiling the getaway. Above them, Spider-Man was shooting weblines to slow down the car. and the last batch finally brought it to a stop. The two men jumped out, one of them carrying the bag of jewelry. Spider-Man webbed up the driver, but the guy with the swag barreled into the door into Carpenter Studios. He is wearing a blue blazer, jeans, running shoes, and…a hefty cloth bag.
Purely natural.
Which, of course, causes the cheerful chime to *dingDING* on the door. After a moment, a rather average looking woman with auburn hair emerges from the back, looks at the guy, then his swag, then back at him, "Sorry, we only take cash, credit cards, or PayPal." Her brow arches just a bit, as she reaches down under the counter to where the 'panic button' is.
The gun appears in the man's other hand like a magic trick. There were a few others and they bolted for the door. "GET AWAY FROM THAT! Back against the wall!" He is nervous, flustered, and the gun is on a hair trigger. He is ready to put a .38 bullet between those eyes.
*DingDING*
"We're CLOSED!" the gunman barks without looking.
Angela can see Spider-Man. Who doesn't recognize the new suit that has showed up in the Bugle (as well as Jameson's frothing editorials)? He is holding his hands up. "Easy, Marko. You're guilty of grand theft, and endangerment. Plus the driving violations. That's not long, all things considered. You pull that trigger, it's murder. They stick you in a concrete box…or they stick a needle in you. You don't want that."
The woman, for her part, doesn't look frightened, but does raise her hands, taking a step back against the wall. "Oh, you should listen to the nice vigilante, Marko… was it?" She smiles a bit, "After all, you wouldn't want to explain the death of an innocent to your Creator when you finally see Him, would you?"
Marko grimaced. "I'm not going back to prison, Webhead."
"Marko…shooting an innocent will get you respect." A pause. "Shooting ME will get you PRESTIGE."
A sudden glint came to Marko's eye. Angela can see it, a sudden craftiness. Then, emboldened by bravado, he turned, pointed the gun at Spider-Man and fired.
The next is something out of some circus act. Somehow, as Marko turned, a tiny precise glob of webbing hit the space between the cocked hammer and the firing pin, expanding. By the time the trigger was pulled, millimeters of webbing was between the hammer and the pin.
Which as it turned out, was enough. The hammer hit with a dull, strengthless thud
With Marko's attention turned away from her, that's when Angela moves with surprising speed. She grabs a broadsword on display on the wall behind her, and brings the flat of it down hard on Marko's head, sending him sprawling to the floor. Then she smiles faintly at Spider-Man, "Nicely done. You make that yourself?" She nods towards the web fluid, sounding a bit curious about that, "The tensile strength ratio must be rather impressive."
Spider-Man looks around, only relaxing when it is clear no one else is going to get hurt—or get to hurting, either. "Oh…well, I have a tech guy." He holds up the inner wrist for Angela to see the web-shooter rig. "The webbing is synthetic, the web-shooter is a mix of hard tech and software programming. I'd…rather not think of how I'd produce webs *naturally.*
His derriere is finely-muscled, though. But that could just be the costume.
"Listen, you're all right?, ma'am? You didn't get roughed up or anything, right?"
Angela smiles slightly, "Yes, I'm fine. Typically I just have to worry about teenagers that don't understand that I'm too old for them, not actual burglars. So this was an interesting change of pace."
Spidey, who is also a teenager, looks a little sheepish under the mask. He'd gone around THIS mulberry bush before when Aunt May suggested he would be a good catch for WONDER WOMAN. At least this lady looks normal.
"Well, hi. I'm Spider-Man, but yoouuu probably sussed that out already." He ohs, then says, "ALICE, call the cops."
A husky female voice replies, "Already done, two police cruisers on the way." Which is interesting, since the voice apparently came from Spider-man.
Angela chuckles, and crouches down, looking curiously at the robber she smacked, "Wonder what led him to run in here, of all places. Seems a bit strange." She hmms, then looks over towards Spider-Man, "Angela Carpenter, I own the place. And most of the back building too, it's where I do my work." She grins cheerfully, "Blacksmithing, mostly, though I do a little sculpture on occasion."
"Really? Wow." Spider-Man does sound impressed. "I think he probably didn't see very many people and thought he could go through into the back and out behind the building to get away." He extends his hand for a handshake. "I'm always in awe of an artisan in any field."
Angela smiles a bit, "Well, thank you." She shakes the offered hand, her grip surprisingly strong… but then, she's used to working with a forge, so that makes sense, right? "Did you need to do that? I mean, I know you're not exactly Mister Popular." She hmms, "Though I approve of people going out and doing what they feel is right."
Spidey blinks. "Popular? ALICE, am I popular?"
"I believe the terms used are 'infamous,' 'comical,' 'vaudeville,' 'goofy'…"
"All right, all right…jeez, even the V.I. is a comedienne." He looks to Angela. There's something about her, something striking…
A voice in his mind hissed, *And yet another person who'd puke in your lap if she saw the real you. Give it up.*
Angela…FELT something. Something about this young vigilante.
Something infinitely EVIL.
Then Spidey spoke, and the concept of him being evil seems patently absurd. "With great power comes great responsibility, Miss Carpenter."
Angela hmms, "Yes, indeed. That's very true." She narrows her eyes a little, as if noticing something, but doesn't quite elaborate on what that might be. Though she does look rather intently at Spidey for a few moments before shaking her head.
Spidey looks around. "Uhm…how pricey are these things? I never had much interest in blades, but, I remember doing a paper on the process of Damascus steel.."
Angela ohs, "Well, most of them go for a few hundred, though obviously there's no edge on the blades. City ordinances. But there's a demand for replicas, particularly for cosplayers." She pauses, then adds, "I do also take commission requests, depending on what they are."
Spidey looks thoughtful. "I'm not a big weapon guy. How are you with forging armor?"
Angela grins, "Oh, pretty well… though I don't exactly have a lot of modern ballistic materials, so I'm not sure how handy it would be for you." She smiles, "I mean, there's a difference between chainmail and an Iron Man suit, right?"
Spidey shrugs. "You never know. I run into some pretty weird stuff, Miss Carpenter. I doubt you'd believe HALF of the stuff I've seen."
Angela looks a bit amused at that, for some reason, "Oh, I'm sure you've seen quite a bit." She smiles, "I just content myself with my art here."
Spidey nods. "Well, I'll take your word for it." He looks up as blinking red-and-blue lights are seen. "IIIII better go. You going to be okay here?"
Angela grins, "Eh, if he causes any trouble I'll hit him with the sword again." She chuckles a little and shrugs, "You should probably head out before they get here, though. It was nice to meet a friendly neighborhood Spider-Man."
Spidey fingerguns Angela. "That's me. Say it LOUD and say it PROUD."
Then he jumps up.
Two uniformed cops come in, guns drawn, then look down at Marko, the bag next to his outstretched hand. "Wow, lady, you conked him GOOD." He looked around. "I heard Spider-Man showed up. Is he around?"
Over his head, Spider-Man moved along the ceiling and through the front door the cops had opened. A moment later, he has crawled up and out of sight.
Angela shrugs a bit, "You just missed him, actually. He saw the flashing lights and didn't want to stick around. Tea? I have some brewing in the back." She smiles a bit, setting the broadsword down on the counter.