Summary:Anya meets up with Spider-Man, who has a heart-to-heart with her. Log Info:Storyteller: None |
Related LogsTheme SongNone |
Its a couple of hours past dark on a Sunday evening. In East Harlem, things quiet down on Sundays, given the heavy Catholic influence among the Latin-American population, but not every hideaway is quiet. A small handful of young adults are gathered in an alley, drinking out of brown bags, shooting dice, and listening to old school hip hop on a Bluetooth speaker. Wu-Tang Clan, to be precise.
Anya Corazon is among them, her hair cut into a Mohawk and dyed a bright pink. She's wearing a studded leather jacket, ripped jeans and a very old pair of Doc Martens with a Wu-Tang Clan tee - seems like this was her round for music choices. Just a few old Harlem hood rats breaking a couple of minor laws; open container and gambling laws to be precise.
The calm, peaceful night is interrupted by the high RPMs of some late-model muscle car. The sound was getting closer, and a few people looked around warily.
Then the Chevy Malibu wheeled around in a tight turn, barreling down along the road past the alley. As the car passes, something very familiar to Anya is seen attached to the trunk lid.
A webline.
Then another familiar red-and-blue gent zipped past pulled behind the car, riding on a trash can lid. Spider-Man, of course, and in a snazzy new suit.
"HOLA!
Of course, the boys are the first to wander out of the alley, looking for the sound of that sweet and sexy engine. Anya and her friend follow, and the boys are hollering at the driver in approval. However, there comes a collective gasp when they see Spider-Man whizzing past.
"Whoa!"
"Was that Spider-Man??"
"Holy shit!!!"
"I've only ever seen him on YouTube!!"
"Hey, where'd Anya go?"
During the commotion, Anya skittered away with a scowl on her face. By the time they're looking for her, she's mounted a rooftop and is out of sight. A short while later, she's transformed into Spider-Girl, her patched up backpack webbed to an air conditioner, and is swooping after Spider-Man in classic web-line style.
"?Que haces en mi barrio, Spidey?"
He has to admit it. He was startled when he saw her. He hadn't even known where she was, no comm traffic, no nothing. And suddenly, whoomp, there she is.
Of course, the Parker Luck puts a large pothole in his way, and he hits the hole, goes airborne and he turns it into a somersault before he hits the street again, continuing to ski along behind the car.
The HUD show up with <What are you doing in my neighborhood, Spidey?>
"Hey, I'm like Elvis, I'm EVERYWHERE. These guys boosted this car and are taking the scenic route. No guns, but they're hoping to-"
He caroms off a Ford Explorer, brings his feet up behind him so the lid touches his back, and says, "Backscratcher!" before he descends to the street again. "…lose me before the cops catch up…!"
"And here I figured you came looking for me," Spider-Girl answers. She swings wide to stay out of the way, and laughs a little at the accidental stunt so cleverly called a Backscratcher.
"You sure you aren't just delaying this because it's fun?" she answers. "Some real Marty McFly shit?"
He looks to her. "Mayyybe. Maybe I'd like to improve the odds and…whoops…" He began to slow down as the car slowed down, the engine begins to click and sputter.
Might be something to so with all the webbing filling the exhaust pipes.
"Ride's almost over. Can we chat after I punch their tickets?"
"Uh huh." Spider-Girl yanks her webline down hard, diverting her swing to go right in front of the decelerating car. She swoops by in a horizontal line, and with two quick *SPLAT*s, the front tires are gummed up with webbing, preventing them from crashing into anything. Then she's soaring up again, headed for a high rooftop.
"Take your time, I'll be up here."
Two minutes later, the three carjackers were hanging from the elevated train running through Harlem, and Spider-Man was climbing up until he made it to the roof. He stopped, looked at Anya, then took a deep breath.
"What happened?"
"Cut to the chase, huh?"
The young woman is seated cross legged on the rooftop, her face resting in the palm of her hand, the other draped lazing across her leg. She sits there for a moment or two in silence, before climbing to her feet and walking up to the rooftop's edge, looking out at the city rather than at Spider-Man.
"I freaked. I ghosted." She's frowning now, and her arms are held close to her chest, as if it were cold out. Which, of course, it isn't.
Spider-Man looked at her, then walked towards her. Then he sat down about five feet away from her. "It's okay. Please tell me what happened."
Anya sighs and shakes her head a moment, before looking down. She turns and sits perpendicular to Spider-Man.
"So, that op, the one with SHIELD, where you guys used my drones? I was monitoring, of course. I saw everything. That man, who was dead, and… multiplying. It was horrible. Then I went home, and went to my room, and there's Abuela watching late night TV, grandfather snoring with peanuts all down his shirt, Uncle Rico drunk and drooling on himself as always, and my cousins are supposed to be asleep but they're in their room fighting over who gets to use the X-Box, and I'm just like…"
She looks down. "I… I don't know. I ghosted. Shut off the Spider-Comm, went and got a job washing dishes at some trendy cafe in Brooklyn, and soaked into my work. The drone I made for the science fair, I sabotaged it. Convinced my professor that the EM recharging system was a failure. Got a B+, probably for ingenuity, which is gonna tank my GPA, and I… I mean…"
She trails off, frowning.
Spidey looked at her as she explained. He had had moments like this, Not quite like hers…but close. She had gotten a good look at something she had seen as…horrible? Obscene? Something that offended her on some deep level? One of those, some of those, all of those.
Even sabotaging her work, though…
"…Anya, what was going through your mind while you were sabotaging the drone?"
"I didn't sabotage Arana," Anya explains. "I sabotaged the one for NYU. I didn't want anyone to make the connection. I can't bring something like… like that down on my family. Even Uncle Rico. It's not entirely his fault that the entire VA check goes to the liquor store. I've read his diary, I know what happened in Desert Storm."
Realizing that she's rambling, Anya goes quiet for a moment, and draws her knees up to be held between her arms. She still isn't making 'eye' contact though. "My folks don't have money. I'm going to NYU on a scholarship, full ride. I had to choose between… between school and Arana, and I chose Arana. Even though being Spider-Girl isn't gonna pay my bills, or get me an internship, or get me out of that tiny-ass apartment. I kept putting the costume on under my clothes, even though I had decided not to be Spider-Girl. And you know what?" She finally turns to look his way. "I ignored it. I ignored all of you all's texts, ignored the sirens, stopped reading the news, stopped patrolling. Disabled Spider-Girl's IG, everything. But I can't…" She shakes her head. "I can't decide. I don't know what to do."
Stepping away from the life. He's been tempted, multiple times. He can get it. To some degree. He has to remind himself that each person has their own path. But dammit…
"If you want easy answers, I don't have them. I can't guilt you into it. I can't make you shoulder the responsibility, But you are my friend. I'll always be here if you want to talk. But you are the only one who can decide for yourself if you are willing to take on the responsibility of being Spider-Girl. And how well you can sleep at night when you make that decision." He looks out to the night sky. "But if something happens, and you could have done something to stop it and didn't…not couldn't, but didn't…then it will mark you, for the rest of your life."
"Trust me," Anya answers. "I already know."
She doesn't need to tell him why her Spider-Comm went active not long ago, or exactly why she stopped reading the news. Chances are, that mark has already been made.
"You know, this would all be so much easier if there was some… I dunno, some mega corporation run by some billionaire who is also a cape and puts other capes up with free room and board and a salary and shit. I mean, do you know how easy it is to cook books? Politicians and CEO's do it all the time." She unfolds herself and sighs. "Wouldn't that be something."
Spidey nods. "Well…how would you feel about me checking if I can get you a job at Kane Industries? I'm employed there part-time. but I already finished a project there and they are very impressed with it. It's good work, good people. They need smart people there."
Looking back up, Anya's eyes seem to brighten, the bug-like circles stretching. "Really? I mean, I was kinda hoping for like… Google, or Stark, or even Wayne, but… I mean, if they do internship credits… I'm getting my undergrad in the winter, after all." Then, without missing a beat, her head draws backward a bit, and she seems startled. "W-Wait, did you…" She points at Spider-Man, mouth ajar. "You figured out… my… who I…"
She doesn't sound mad, but certainly surprised!
Spidey smiled sadly. "Pick a different backpack to go heroing in. or do what I do and make a reversible one." He unshoulders his backpack, then opens the large section in the back all the way, and then turns the backpack inside out, revealing a black backpack with IQ RULES stitched into the side-seam. He then turns it inside-out again, revealing the red-and-blus motif with the spider-symbol on the back panel of the pack. "See?"
"But I already fixed that problem," Spider-Girl answers. She's got a smaller one that goes inside her patched up one! Too little too late, it would seem. "Well, I guess your secret's safe with me," she says wryly. "Otherwise I'd have to tell the Daily Bugle what a pain in the -"
*THWIP*
A little splat of webbing is flung with the flick of a wrist toward Spider-Man's backpack.
"- butt you are."
Spidey shook his head. "I can submit your name and see how it shakes up. I won't promise anything…but I think your prospects are very good." He stands up. "Does this mean you're going to show up again? No more sudden disappearances without telling anyone, having people wonder if you're alive or dead?"
Spider-Girl stands up as well, her posture a bit bolder than it was before. Not her usual overconfident self, not yet at least. "Well…" she answers. "I already did. Stopped a robbery." At that, she grins a little, before taking a step closer to Spider-Man. Earnestness now falls upon what's visible of her face. "Hey… I'm… I'm sorry." She waits for a moment, before suddenly running over in an attempt to give the man a hug. One of those big, squeezing 'thank you' hugs that say more than the words themselves could convey.
Spider-Man stands up and hugs Spider-Girl, holding her firmly, his hands pressing lightly against her upper back. One of those brotherly hugs that is firm, but without any real intimacy. Which is just what he is shooting for.
He hugs her for a few long seconds before he draws back to look at her masked face. "You need any help…reach out. I know of people who would bend over backwards to help you. And surprise, surprise, I happen to be one of them. But if you feel like that again, something happens you can't deal with…reach out, so you won't be alone."
Its possible that there's a tear growing behind Spider-Girl's mask, but it doesn't show. Instead, she nods her head twice, in that sort of nervous manner one has when they've just uncapped a bottle of anxiety that needed to be let out.
"Okay," she says, trying to hide a single sniffle. Then she steps away, looking out at the city again. "Now get outta here. Spanish Harlem has its hero." She's joking; its audible in her tone and by the smirk on her lips. Then, with a thwip and a leap, she's gone.
Spidey watches her go. He smiles to himself. "Fair enough. I'll just handle the rest of the city."
A few moments later, he is gone, too.