Summary:Silk stops a purse-snatcher and runs into Pamela Isley. Log Info:Storyteller: None |
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Since Pam attracts way too much attention when she's green-skinned in Central Park, she's currently in a more 'normal' appearance. Looking much like your typical redhead that doesn't have frightful plant powers and a criminal record, she's wearing tan khakis as well as a forest green silk blouse. She's sitting by a collection of rose bushes, lips curved in a slight smile as she seems to be… reading a book? Not a nook but an actual physical book? Madness!
There's tons of madness in Central Park. From people reading actual physical books to a thin guy in a hoodie booking it at top speed and hurtling over the unoccupied side of the bench that Pamela is on, landing, and continuing to run at breakneck human speed as if the hounds of hell were after him.
No hounds. Just a spider.
Silk, in full black, white, and red costume lands neatly and perches perfectly on the back of the bench that Pamela is on, says, "Sorry, this'll just take a second," and then she tosses a few webs from her fingertips, one each snatching the man's legs and pulling him down, flat to the ground. Two more webs from two other fingers and his arms are pinned to the ground too.
"That'll teach you to snatch purses, jerk," she scolds.
The Central Park authorities aren't too far behind, huffing, and puffing, and they cut the thug free, cuff him, and begin to escort him off with nary a thank-you to Silk. In fact, they look a bit put out that she 'helped'.
Pamela looks… surprised, to put it mildly, though the main thought she seems to have is 'another one?!?' as she smiles, "Ah… thanks for the help. Purse snatchers definitely deserve what they get." She looks towards Silk, her head tilting a bit as she regards the young heroine. "Seems a little under your weight class, though?"
"I was passing through, and saw it happen. I'm not going to let anyone get away with that stuff. I'm supposed to be a hero, right? That doesn't just mean I stop the weirdos in Rhino Costumes or the ones dressing up like Zeus," Cindy states, jumping off the bench back to land neatly in front of the bench.
"I'm Silk." Her eyes are bright, and her voice sounds cheerful enough. "I couldn't live with myself if I let him get away. Every little bit helps."
Pamela smiles, "Commendable." And she sounds like she means it, as she then ahs, "Oh, I'm Pamela, or Pam if you prefer." She shrugs a little, "Though I haven't seen anyone dressing up as Zeus, but I'm from Seattle, so." She chuckles a bit, "Still getting used to all the costumes around here."
"I'm still getting used to wearing a costume," Silk admits, a bit ruefully. She wrinkles her nose, crinkles her eyes and looks after the officers, "They don't like me very much," she says, mildly conversational. Another exhale, and she turns back to Pam, offering the older redhead her hand.
"I'm glad to meet you, Pamela." Friendly? Check. Neighborhood? Well. Sorta. Spider-Man? Well, girl, but, sure.
Pamela nods, "Yeah, I get the impression that Spider-Man is not that appreciated, mores' the pity." She grins and accepts the hand, giving it a warm shake. "Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Silk."
"Well, at least that awful editor hasn't written anything horrible about me. I don't know how Spider-Man doesn't set him right - but," she shrugs, showing a bit of perplextion in her features, "That's his choice, and his fight. Not mine. Maybe I'll ask him about it next time we get together."
She exhales, "New York would be far worse off if Spider-Man wasn't around. A lot of people, including me, owe him a lot."
Pamela grins, "Well, I suspect it's because Spider-Man knows that the editor in question has the right to say such things. Even if they aren't exactly correct." She nods, "I suspect something like that, considering you seem pretty similar to him, as far as Spider-things are concerned, right?"
Beneath her ninja-like mask, Silk is smiling some. It might be given away by the tone of her voice as she says agreeably, "Similiar, yes. Not exactly the same. It's - complicated." She shrugs, some. "But, he's helped me out with a few things. And we worked together to get a lot of the kidnapped children back to their parents a few months ago when all that terrible stuff was going on."
Pamela nods, "I heard about that. It's good that was able to get straightened out." She smiles over at Silk, "I mean, I just work with the government right now, trying to do something about the Disaster Zone."
"I - heard about the Disaster Zone. But I was -," a pause, "Away when it happened." But now she looks curious, "What are you doing with it? Are you on a construction crew or something?" Clearly, Silk hasn't been out that way. Someone actually minds what she's told, or diected - at least, most of the time as long as it seems to make sense and there's not a pressing emergency.
Pamela smiles a bit, "Oh, no… I'm a botantist. I'm trying to find ways to make it environmentally sustainable again. It's rather tricky, though, to say the least."
"It must be," she agrees. There's a rueful chuckle from her, "I seem to attract all the scientific types to me. Or meet them." She seems amused. "But, I wish you luck. If you can help restore it, that would be pretty remarkable. You'd be far more remembered than I ever will, probably." Not that such seems to be a Thing for Silk. The young girl seems to earnestly enjoy being a 'true' hero.
Pamela snickers, "Yeah, but I don't get to websling off of buildings, either, so seems like a decent trade." She smiles and shrugs a little, "I would have loved to have your powers when I was your age… wait, I'm not that old."
"That part is really a lot of fun," admits Silk, honestly, her eyes crinkling visibly at the corners. "Maybe one day soon I will swing by and see the work that you're doing," Silk suggests.
Pamela grins, "I wouldn't mind it. Occasionally super-powered types come through to help where they can. Which is nice, really, rebuilding is as important as stopping supervillains, after all."