Summary:Steve Rogers and Gwen Stacy team up to stop a mugger from doing bad things. Log Info:Storyteller: None |
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It has become apparent to Steve that trouble is spreading. He's been keeping an ear to the ground and to the channels between NYPD as well as other military forces. Reports keep filtering in of animal attacks rarely panning out in anything more than bites. Unfortunately, some of the bitten have disappeared and it could be construed that they've been inducted into the ranks of the mysterious pack of werewolves haunting portions of the city now.
Worry, a low-roiling twist of intrigue in his stomach, and the unbearable sense of duty has brought Steve to the edge of the Brooklyn and Queens boroughs, by the small gemstone of greenery known as Forest Park. The leaves here are turning too and falling like shed coins to the browning grass below. He's in a windbreaker and jeans, combat boots and a Dodgers baseball cap for anonymity's sake…though anyone catching a glance of his profile might be able to recognize the Captain for whom he is. He's walking along one of the public sidewalks along the perimeter of the Park when the sound of a shout makes him immediately stop.
His body goes tight with tension and he listens…there. In the Park, about a football length's worth of yardage in, there's a guy accosting a woman with a stroller! With an unnatural growl in the back of his throat, there goes Steve, breaking into a lope with a hard glitter in his eyes.
Rushing into battle wearing your school clothes is a great way to forfeit a secret identity. Then again, wearing your superhero costume under said school clothes sure makes getting changed a lot faster (and a lot less risky in public, too.)
Gwen Stacy is entirely unaware of any plots concerning werewolves, but of late she's become entirely too sensitive to the sounds of people being accosted by a violent criminal element; so within a minute, she's dressed for action with her backpack secured on both shoulders, and hurriedly ascending a tree. "Don't worry, I'm coming," she asserts to nobody in particular, as she swings through the trees, staying close to the ground until she's relatively close. She jumps from tree to tree, keeping as high up as she can; a stealthy approach feels good, afterall, don't want the bad guy to panic and shoot the victim, afterall. (Or you, Gwen, don't forget that; spiders aren't bullet proof.)
She approaches from the opposite direction than Stever is coming from, so she hasn't seen him just yet; but once she spots the guy accosting the lady, that's got her attention grabbed. She narrows her eyes, waiting for a good opportunity to shoot a webline and snatch his weapon — preferably when he's not pointing it at his victim. "Come on, point it somewhere else," she whispers.
"I don't have any money!!!"
Both the Captain and Gwen are close enough now to hear the young mother assert this as firmly as she can with a waver in her voice. The baby in the stroller still sleeps the sleep of the young without waking despite the lack of the pram's movement. Steve marks the gun's gleaming appearance and makes himself blaringly obvious when he closes the distance to less than twenty feet and stops.
"Hey." The curt word is pitched deeply in a growl that would make Logan proud. Swinging around, the mugger aims his gun at the Captain now, eyes wide.
"Back the fuck off!" There's a moment where it seems like the guy might pull the trigger, but thank god he doesn't. "She's one of the animals hunting people around this city! I gotta kill her!"
"I can tell you she's not," Steve states with a calmer firmness; Gwen will see his chin subtly lift as if he were scenting the air. "And whatever you're on, you're about to overdose. Calm down. Your heart rate's too high," the Captain continues firmly. The mother and her baby remain very, very still, though the young woman is beginning to shake from nerves.
Gwen's attention turns to the new person entering the scene; the gun shifts to point at him, and her fingers touch the little padel for her webshooter, but the man points his gun at Steve too quickly. "Damnit," she mutters. She could grab the gun but there's still that chance that his fingers squeeze the trigger, especially if he's high on something. She watches, glancing back and forth between all parties.
Moments later, Gwen appears on the ground, landing with a soft 'fwump' in the middle of the path. She straightens, having put herself in front of the stroller. "Ma'am you need to leave right now," she states, glancing over her shoulder. Looking back to the man with teh gun, she holds both hands up in the air. "Sir, I think you need to listen to—" …Wait, is that Captain America? Oh my *god*, shoots through her mind. Outwardly, she juast ahems, "I think you should put the gun down, and we can help you, alright? It'll be okay."
Of course, Gwen still has one finger on a webshooter; her eyes focus on the gun, just in case he changes targets again and an opportunity presents.
Gwen's appearance has the gunman looking over with wider eyes yet; sweat visibly shines on his temples. He still keeps the gun on Steve because he seems to at least recognize a member of the Spider squad and those quick-moving vigilantes have long been lauded for being nearly impossible to shoot. The guy with the baseball cap seems normal enough.
"It's not okay! They're everywhere! You're probably one!" This he screams at Steve now with focus entirely on the blond super-soldier. Fingers curl and relax at the Captain's sides as if he were readying himself for a quick-draw.
"You should listen to the young lady and put the gun down," comes the firmer reminder.
"NO!" Anyone with senses hyper-attuned will see the micro-movements communicating the readying and impending trigger pull of the handgun.
The mother has plucked her baby from the pram and slipped away behind a big tree to quietly cry to herself now, shivering as she prays the baby remains asleep.
Gwen can't wait any longer. The man is about to pull that trigger; her Dad's talked about that kind of thing, and she's seen it a few times in the last couple of months. Her hands dart forwards and she triggers both webshooters; one webline gets the side of the gun, and she gives it a sharp yank, hard enough to pull a car out of place. Her other webline goes for the ankle, with a much gentler tug; just enough to pull him off his feet.
"Got him!" she pronounces while all this is in progress; and then she's just on top of him, letting the gun sail off into the bushes as she rolls the man onto his chest and pulls his arms behind him so she can web his wrists together.
"Just relax," she murmurs, keeping her voice as soothing as she can. "There's no werewolves or whatever here, I promise. You're going to be okay, and we're going to get you some help."
A tremor runs through Steve as his own readiness to dodge at a metahuman speed becomes unnecessary. He blows out a slow, soothing sigh and straightens in place from his formerly tense poise.
"Hold him. I'll call in the cops," he tells the costumed Spider-being even as he steps around Gwen and the junkie now kicking uselessly in the scuffed, leaf-littered path. The gaunt man is now spluttering incoherently about aliens as well as werewolves!
"M'am, the situation's under control." Steve's enviably calm informing of the young mother does gain him the response of louder, more obvious sobbing and some 'thank you's interspersed through the gulps for air. Still, the baby sleeps on in her arms. His broad palm makes to gently settle on the round of her arm as an anchor even as Steve pulls out his phone. A flick of his finger dials 911.
Steve leans into view around the tree. "You're doing great, keep holding him." This is to Gwen before the emergency responder speaks on the other end of the line. "Yes, this is Captain Rogers — yes, Captain Rogers," he repeats. "I've got an interrupted mugging at Forest Park along Park Lane South and 98th Street. Yes, suspect is detained, send — thank you. I'll stay on the line until confirmation." It doesn't take but a handful of seconds. "Good, thank you, the officer will see me." Hanging up the phone, he then emerges into view to recover the stroller. Gwen gets a curt nod.
"Whomever you are, I appreciate it. Might not want to be immediately present when the officer arrives." The subtle tilt of his head towards the surrounding trees expresses knowledge of the NYPD's continued suspicion about Spider-folk as a whole, though his expression is sympathetic.
Gwen adds a quick bit of webbing to the man's ankles, just to make sure there isn't going to be any funny business like trying to run away, then stands and and squares her shoulders. "Spider-Woman, and thanks for hte heads up," she replies. Her eyes cast about in the bushes before she sees what she's looking for; a webline retrieves the firearm the man was using. She presses the little lever to drop the magazine out of the weapon and pulls back the slide to make the chambered round go flying out, which she catches.
"Here, probably better give this to the cops, too," she suggests. "I mean this is still America but I guess we don't want to just leave guns lieing around in the park." She offers the lot to Steve; and then with a quick look around, she jumps up into the trees, climging all the way up as far as she can go, crouching up there to watch the proceedings.
"Agreed. Who knows what's going to be found in the bushes or trees these days," Steve replies with a faint droll amusement after he takes the gun and magazine as well as single round. None too soon and with good timing does Gwen disappear into the trees. Two cops, on foot, arrive from their car parked along the main road with its lights flashing.
The usual business follows. Statements are taken from both Steve and the woman with her child (with the former asserting he doesn't know the identity of the Spider-person who aided judging by the webbing used to corral the man). Still squirming like a fiend, the gunman is escorted away for processing and detox. Steve is given a hug from the young mother and while the officers' backs are turned, she blows a thankful kiss up towards the tree where Gwen is hiding, mouthing 'Thank you!'
Steve lingers after final confirmations as to the attempted mugging's details and he watches the NYPD as well as mother and child disappear back into the milling livelihood that is New York City proper. Then, he glances up at the tree.
"Spider-Woman, huh? I think I've heard about you." His tone is nonchalant, but the way he's looking up through the branches is keenly interested in a manner noticeably inhuman. Idly, he reaches back to scratch at the nape of his neck. Blond hairs flutter loose.
Gwen casts a thumbs-up down at the mother, but really it's not like she can see it — if she could, then the cops would be able to see her too. Ahh well, one doesn't get into the business of super-heroing in search of kudos or pats on the back. So she waits, and watches the proceedings happen until the cops at least have left; she gives it a moment for the tail lights of the cop car to make their egress, then drops back down out of the tree to land in front of Steve.
"Hey. Thanks for being cool about secret identities," she replies. "Not all cops are down with, y'know, spider-people. Staying hidden is a lot easier than getting yelled at or shot at. Cost of doing business sometimes, I guess." And, she decides, it's fortunate she's wearing a mask, 'cause she's blushing hard enough to light up the trees like a beacon. "You've heard of me, though? That's actually pretty awesome. I haven't been doing this for very long." She pauses, starting to feel super awkward. What do you say to Captain America himself? "Just, uhm, glad I could help!" Smooth, Gwen, real smooth.
"It was good to have you present," the Captain confirms, watching Gwen with the same calculating interest now that she's got feet on the ground rather than up a tree. "'m fast, but sometimes not fast enough. Prefer not to be shot if I can manage it." Slinging his thumbs over the edging of his jean pockets, Steve shifts his weight into a more relaxed stance.
Even if Gwen's scent is odd to his hypersensitive nose, she's been marked as comrade rather than someone threatening.
"'nd I know how hard it is to be in the spotlight. Anonymity's a boon if you can keep it intact. Did the same for Spider-Man when he ran into some trouble a few months back." A short sigh and his brows draw together. "A shame there's that smear campaign going on about you folks. You do the city a world of good as far as I'm concerned." Gwen gets one of those well-known little smiles from the Captain, dimples and all.
Gwen shrugs her shoulders lightly. "Well, it wouldn't be fun if it was easy," she jokes. "Seriously though. I was never surprised about the smear campaign when I was watching Spider-Man on TV, and I'm less surprised now that I'm part of the team, so to speak. There's always people out there looking to smear someone, usually with much less cause, to my mind. If they're busy picking on us, I guess that's time not spent attacking other minorities." she rests her hands on her hips; probably about where pockets would be, but spider-onesies don't have pockets like that, afterall.
"As long as people like you know we're trying to do good, as far as I'm concerned, that's enough, and it really means a lot to me to hear you say it."
Steve nods agreement to her sentiments. "The Avengers're aware of what you and the others are in defense of the city and its people, same with SHIELD. If things ever get out of control, don't hesitate to reach out to us."
With a flick of his brows more aimed at himself, the Captain then reaches into an interior pocket of his windbreaker. Out comes a rather plain business card with the SHIELD logo on one side and 'Sr. Agt. S. Rogers' along with a contact number plus extension. This is offered to Gwen.
"That's my desk. You need me, leave a message there; messages forward on to me if I'm away from it." Briefly, his brows knit. "If you hear anything more from people on the ground about animal attacks, reach out as soon as possible. I've got a vested interest in it."
And doesn't the Captain suffering from lycanthropy.
"But thank you again, Spider-Woman. Appreciate it. Got a lunch meeting to make 'nd it'd be bad form to arrive late." Two fingers salute from his temple in a comfortable gesture. "You have a good day now." Still attempting anonymity with his baseball cap, Steve then turns to leave the Park and return to traveling to this lunch meeting.