Summary:A couple of heroes and a next-gen reporter come face to face with DOOM… Log Info:Storyteller: None |
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The blackout in Harlem had startled the locals, and while the civilians all had their own theories on what the reason really was, the super-powered community likely had their own ideas. The news story in the NY Beat had mentioned a green-cloaked, armored individual, which fit the description of an infamous dictator from Europe…but it being HIM would be absolutely absurd, right?
She didn't expect the old, closed down bodega to be connected to the local power grid, and she was right. However, it had only taken the genius an hour or so of fiddling with the old power box to cut into the grid and steal a bit for her own uses. Something like that might be noticed by those who pay attention to things like that.
With her own power, Doom settled into the dusty, abandoned apartment on the second floor, above the old, empty bodega. The place is cluttered with boxes of long-forgotten goods, left behind when the place shut down in the wake of one of the various New York villain attacks or invasions. With a grimace, she reaches up to unfasten her cloak. Unlike the infamous dictator, her own green cloak is lined with whitish fur around the rim of the hood, and on the mantle. She lays it over a box before she sits down on another, unfastening her mask and setting it down as well. Her brow is lightly beaded with sweat from pain, and she glances down at the blood dribbling down between the chain links on her armor on her right shoulder. Normally her armor could easily withstand a bullet, but the shot had been a lucky one. The pain was considerable.
The teenager clenches her jaw as she begins to slowly remove her armored shoulder pad, and the chain armor on her arm to get a look at the wound. Meanwhile, she had rigged the door down below, along with a few of the windows, with hastily (But decently) made wires. They are rigged to some salvaged bells, hoping she can be alerted should somebody somehow stumble upon her.
Spidey was going out for the first time since the Spider-Hunt, and he was actually feeling somewhat close to normal. ALICE had been repaired with no loss of data, and the suit was tip-top. It certainly was good enough to report the power fluctuations at one location not far from the disturbance, and Spidey had thought it a good idea to check. Just ine case.
So, he was swinging towards the building, but slowly. No immediate rushing to whatever might be waiting. Done enough of that for awhile. This is the area…so start looking for signs.
That's one small step… well, Kamala makes no small steps when she needs to, really. A long stretch of a leg, a step that nearly covers a block, and then the stretchy young woman pulls in, before stretching back out. As she passes into Harlem, a couple of guys on a street corner look up at the elongated hero as she passes through and whistles up to her. "Dedication for you!" one of them calls out with a laugh as he shuffles through the beatbox that he carried with him and puts on a song..
Hey ya'll prepare yourself for the rubberband man,
You've never heard a sound,
Like the rubberband man,
You're bound to lose control,
When the rubberband starts to jam.
The young woman gives a laugh, light and warm, before she pauses. "Where was that blackout at?" she asks the pair, and one of them points in the direction of the ruined bodega. "Couple of blocks down, you can't miss it, there's a big old Coca-cola sign out front!" he calls up to her.
And she's starting to step again, but does a little dance step in time to the music as she starts to round a corner, and nearly collides with Spidey, possibly triggering his senses on the imminent collision as she was looking back towards the music, and not totally paying attention to what's ahead.
It's a 'bright' new evening in a big busy city with another new girl trying to make sense of the traffic patterns. What's the first order of business? That's an easy one. Look for some action! New York's been a hotspot for powered individuals, metahuman sightings, the whole nine yards. That a power outage 'mysteriously' happened right as Skye was getting around the place had been a perfect opportunity to go fishing, as it were.
Not too far from the abandoned apartment complex sits a lone early 80's van, neatly tucked into an alley as though it had always been there and absolutely totally belonged. Nothing suspicious to see here! Nevermind the microdrone which has taken to the chilly evening air, darting about like an overcaffeinated mosquito while its pilot camps out in the back of the van with a live video feed from its itty bitty high-definition camera.
She's got a good feeling about this run…
Doom has no idea that several interesting individuals are about to converge on her location. Normally she would have already come up with a dozen ways to handle the current situation, as she has a pair of geniuses for parents and follows in their footsteps. The blood loss, however, has her a bit light headed. She stares down at all of the red on her arm, which has stained her green tunic, and she growls softly to herself. She knows the basics of first aid, but…she has no idea how to properly remove a bullet from a wound or anything like that. She had an expert doctor on hand back home for this kind of thing!
She reaches down with slightly trembling fingers, and carefully leans her rifle up against the box beside her, within easy reach. The energy rifle looks like something out of this world, with a pale green energy coil and panels running along it, giving off a very, very faint hum.
She stares down at the wound for a second longer, growling, "Come on. Come on, idiot. What would they do?" She finally nods to herself and tears part of her 'loincloth away', as her tunic dangles down past her belt. She ties it firmly above the wound, grimacing, her trembling fingers bright red now.
"They wouldn't bleed out in a damn peasant hovel, that's what. Come on, Doom. Think. Think, damnit." Her voice is pleasant, with a vague, light Eastern European accent threaded through her words.
Spider-Man is about to come up on his upward swing when UWAH! He reflexively reaches out to catch her as they both swing to the roof of the building across the street. She's a little excitable, all arms and hand waving around. As they land, he lets go and says, "Miss Marvel? We should stop meeting like this. And in 'this,' I mean in midair. You okay?"
Just as Mala was about to turn the corner, there's a blue and red blur, and it all goes.. flying??! Swept off of her mid-stride step, the young Marvel lets out a yelping eep that causes her arms and legs to end up flailing slightly — okay — a lot like the whacky inflatable arm man that stands silent sentinel over the car lots of America.
Once she regathers herself, there's a sudden darkening of her cheeks. "Oh gosh, I was so not looking where I was going and they should probably put up mirrors for like superhero flying blindspots and stuff!" she announces with a huff, wringing her hands in front of her. "Were you here about the power outage? Do you really think it's Doom? Or wasn't there a female Iron Man?" there's a bit of confusion in her voice.
One thing Sky hadn't fully considered, having a power outage means that there isn't a whole lot to see. The drone doesn't have its own lights. Much like a moth to a flame whatever light does remain becomes a focal point, the tiny machine zipping along outside of the building until something can be found.
Light in a window. Someone's home? More importantly: Someone still has power.
The windows look pretty grimy, they won't provide a very clear picture. She's just going to have..to get..closer…
The first window's a bit of a letdown. No good angles. The second window starts to reveal something more. Someone's inside? Wait, what. Is that..is that -blood?- And what is—
That's a gun. Nothing like Skye's ever seen in the movies. Brown eyes widen as a finger darts for the record button. "Okaaaay… What have we here?"
It'd be most unfortunate if a gust of wind bumped one of the tiny propellers into the window or something. Because that might make a lot of noise.
Poor little drone. That is exactly what happens. The window is bumped and the bells beside the blonde jingle. Her bright green eyes widen and she leans down, the bloodied, armored teenager scooping up the energy rifle. She whirls about, and Skye gets an excellent view of the bloody, armored girl, in green and titanium. She levels the rifle.
The drone picks up the brief, building hum of the rifle, and then nothing, as she fires the weapon. The blast is hot enough to melt the glass instead of shatter it, and while it is strong enough to likely slag a normal drone, who knows how much Skye has modded her own pet? Either way, the blast of the rifle is only half a block down from Spidey and the Marvel, and the flash of green energy can be seen through a window, marking out Doom's location.
Feeling light-headed, the rifle tumbles from her fingertips and she collapses against the boxes, spattering blood and fighting to retain being awake. It's bad.
Spider-Man held up a hand. "Whoa, whoa Marvel. Let's analyze first. We need to get a good idea before things…"
A lance of green light flares from the windows of an abandoned tenement.
"…ESCALATE. Follow me, Miss Marvel, and BE CAREFUL!"
Spidey fires a webline, swinging to the left slightly so that he can come through the hole, ready to swing at…
…a collapsed young woman in an eerily-familiar set of clothes.
ALICE sent him the symptoms based on what he could see, and it made him reach behind him for the medical kit in his sporty red-and-blue backpack. "Marvel! We got wounded!" He steps forward, kicking the rifle away from Valeria and opening the medical kit.
"These things always escalate!" Mala points out to Spidey as the bright blast lances out from the side of the building. The poor drone! As Spider-Man fires a webline, Kamala hears his call and is immediately taking out her phone - you know, to call for an ambulance, but she makes her way into the building. But while he may be cautious, Kamala isn't as much as she approaches.
"She's young!" she calls out. Pot, Kettle, Black. As she makes her way over to Valeria, concern pulls on the young woman's features. "…what happened?" she asks worriedly as she moves to check the wrapped area before she kneels down next to Valeria. "That's Spider-Man." It' said in a 'duh' tone, because who doesn't know Spider-Man. "I'm Miss Marvel. Who are you?"
Brown eyes widen further as the wind nudges the tiny airborne camera a little too close. "Oh no no no!" Skye has to fight with the controls to get it safely away from the glass, stabilized against the wind, and
Is that the weird gun again?
"Ah—"
There's a flicker of light and the camera feed dies. The pilot's head quickly shifts a few inches away from the screen with a startled blink as if someone had just slapped her a good one. "-Rude.-"
An irritated sigh is promptly followed by the controller being flicked into another part of the van, her attention instead leaping toward the keyboard to review the last few seconds of footage. She can't search by 'crazy alien rifles' so much as she can 'green uniform,' trying to get an idea of who or what might have just clipped her wings.
It doesn't take long to realize she's not getting any easy answers this way. "Of course. Can't make it -too- easy, right?"
She grabs a hat and her phone and climbs out of the van, intent to let curiosity and hope of discovering the truth guide her CLOSER to the scene rather than further away, like a normal..rational human might do.
Someone owes her a drone, darnit. Or a REALLY good story. And to think, another few seconds and she could have sighted two more powered people! Such cruel fate.
The girl lays there, collapsed against the old crate. The rifle is heavy and sturdy, but Spider-Man is strong, and he sends it spinning across the floorboards with ease. It ends up lieing in the corner of the room, giving odd the same intense, pale green glow that her armor does. She blinks as the two lean over her, barely hearing what they're saying through it all.
It is easy to tell from the scene that'd she had been bleeding badly before she got here, and while her simple tourniquet helped, she lost a lot of blood. A normal person might not live through something like this. She opens her mouth to try and explain when the Marvel asks, but her lips are somewhat numb from it all, and she finds a hard time finding the right words. If anything, though, there isn't a lot of recognition when the names are given. She does manage to get out one thing, though, before her eyelids flutter a bit.
"I am Doom."
Spider-Man looked at Valeria, then said quietly as he crouched in front of her, "You are suffering from blood loss. You are about to go into shock, if you aren't there already. So right now you are going to sit still. If I leave that bullet in you, it will become septic. I can close the wound, stitch it up, but you HAVE to stay still, Doom-girl."
And with that, he pulls out a pair of forceps. "Miss Marvel, hold off on the cops and ambulance right now."
Spider-Man's voice is calm, sure, and does give a quiet hardness that this is how things are going to go. Accept it.
"Well, someone wore their bossy pants today." Kamala frowns. Though he seems to know what he's talking about, so she's putting the phone away. "You're a little.. short to be Doom." she points out to Valeria as she takes a seat noxt to the woman and watches. "So if you need something to squeeze, I'm kinda like one of those squeeze balls for stress thingies you know?"
Having to cover the distance on foot and without any special abilities means that the hacker on site is going to be late to the party. The upside is that this gives Spidey and Marvel a chance to help the wounded Doom before 'innocent bystanders' go and get all nosey. They can be so annoying.
Skye might have come to her senses along the way and turned right back on her heels if it isn't for the sounds of conversation as she starts to close in on the suspect apartment. People are talking and it doesn't sound like arguing or fighting. That's a good sign, right?
It isn't until her hand reaches for the door that the moment properly comes to mind. What the heck is she DOING? That green figure just shot down her drone and she's..what, going to walk right in? Has her survival instinct completely fled the scene of the crime?
Don't go for the door handle, stupid. Put your ear to the door and try to listen in. That's how you keep from being noticed, remember?
Skye's ear starts to settle upon the surface of the door…
Then the bell politely chimes its warning on the other side.
That rickety old door had a little give to it when she went to lean against it. Oops!
Being called Doom-girl brings a scowl from the pretty, bleeding blonde. She's too weak to bring up a proper reply, though. The same can be said for Kamala's comment on her being a bit short to be a stormtrooper and all that. After a moment she manages to give Spider-Man a nod in regards to the wound. Her mouth is dry. It's about all she can manage, really.
Those close to her, they can see the green and furred cloak hanging over a nearby box, with a certain metal mask resting atop it. The mask isn't exactly like the infamous one, as it is slightly more feminine, and has a more stoic visage instead of the famous scowl, but it would be difficult not to see the similarities. She does not squeeze Marvel, even with the invitation to do so.
The bell jingles, and the weak girl glances at the door just as it swings opening, bringing the-one-who-will-be-Daisy to the scene.
Spider-Man looked to the door. "Great. VISITORS. Miss marvel, can you check it out? I've kinda got my…hands full here."
He's sterilized the wound area, and is in the process of getting a grip on the bullet. "Okay. This is going to hurt. A LOT. But believe me when i say it'll hurt worse if I leave it in."
Seriously, the door's unlocked?! It's an almost comical thing as it slooowly swings open with a gentle creak to reveal another younger gal standing on the other side with a phone in hand and 'deer in headlights' in her eyes, momentarily petrified at what might be waiting on the other side.
It doesn't last.
"Oh my god—Spider-Man?!"
Composure, Skye. Get you some.
A quick clearing of the throat follows. If -he's- here and he isn't freaking out then it should be okay..right? Oh man, this is going to be some amazing footage!
Her free hand comes up in defense. "No, it's okay! I'm -totally- on your side. Just—pretend I'm not here."
Because while the papers may have been giving ol' Spidey a terrible rep it just so happens that she doesn't trust anything that they print in the papers. They all lie to cover up the truth. It's what they do!
Besides, villains don't do ..whatever it is that he's doing right now—is he trying to perform surgery in this dump?
Skye quickly closes the door. Behind her. She's a part of this now. Fight her.
Th blonde clenches her jaw and nods to Peter. When he does it she actually shows very few signs of the pain, though she is clearly feeling it. His senses picl up her rapid heartbeat and all of that. Still, the teen remains stoic as he pulls the bullet from her shoulder.
Her bright green eyes land on Skye next, and while she is not sturdy enough to actually say anything to her, she watches her warily.
Spider-Man nods as he drops the bullet in the dirt. No clean, sterile ER here, this is pure meatball surgery.
Wash out the wound, then presses the vein closed before he jets a quick bit of webbing into it to hold it there. He looks to Daisy, then says, "Please tell me you're not live-streaming. The lady deserves a little privacy?" He looks back to Valeria, and his voice is not as harsh. "Gonna close up. That webbing should hold for a good 24 hours before oxidizing. No air to degrade it once I close up."
He does have a medical staple gun, and it isn't long before the would is cleaned, clipped, and closed. "Okay, miss. I'm going to bandage it now. And since you did introduce yourself, you can call me Spider-Man. Or Spidey. Heck, I'll even answer to Webhead."
Nevermind the girl with the phone! The girl with the phone who is totally fangirling over getting what amounts to a face to face with someone as recognizable as the resident black and red Spider. He is actually doing surgery! This is great! Oh man, the internet's gonna go -crazy- when she uploads this—
Erk. "It's not live, don't worry. But if you're interested in improving your public image then I've totally got your back. Seriously, what bad guy saves a lady's life?"
Video can always be edited later. In Skye's mind the bigger worry is missing something important. So, yeah, she does mean to get the blonde into some of the scene as well. Besides, she wants to figure out who this other lady is later! There's also what looks like a cloak and a mask on the table. There is, of course, the Drone-Killer Gun lying on the floor. She doesn't make a move for it but she does try to pan the camera across the peculiar looking weapon. Document now, research later. If all goes as she would like it to.
The wounded girl turns to watch as she is stapled up. She doesn't flinch away, and in fact seems resolute to watch it happen. Once it is done she nods slowly to Spider-Man, weakly. "I…cannot use one of your hospitals, likely. I will…need to find another way…to keep the process up." Her voice is soft but pleasant, with that notable accent.
She considers for a moment once Spider-Man introduces himself fully, and she adds, quiety, "Princess Valeria Von Doom. Doom."
She glances at the girl with the recording device, then. Even though she is weak, her tone grows a bit more edge. "It's polite…to introduce yourself. Do so."
Spider-Man frowns under the mask. Valeria? It's not Victor…but other than that, it's looking like either a relative…or another alt-verser.
What the heck can he do? She can't live in this mess. She can't heal like he does. He…
Ah, jeez, is he actually going to do this?
First things first. He looks to Daisy, then says, "Look…far be it from me to disparage freedom of the press, but I think a private citizen's issues should remain private. And I'm not looking to enhance public opinion at the expense of someone's privacy. So…I can't force you to censor it…but at least consider her welfare. Imagine what might happen if Victor von Doom hears about her?"
There's a name which dawns immediate recognition. 'Doom.' -Princess.- Doom. The civvie on scene nearly drops her phone, and that's well before being directly addressed.
"I, ahSkye. My name's Skye. That was my drone you shot down. Um. Sorry about that. I was trying to get an idea of what happened around here and it looked like you were wounded and the windows are all" Ahem. Stop talking now.
Was she mistaken in thinking that there was another person in the room before she fell in on this situation? Maybe they had already left for help or something… She doesn't know about that. What she does know is that this is absolute -gold.-
Unnntil Spider-Man adds a healthy dose of real world perspective. And slowly that phone starts to lower.
"Wow. Yah. Okay. So, no international incidents. But you've still saved a life here. Do you really want to throw away that kind of good press? We can talk about it. Put the best possible spin on this. The world needs to know!"
She lets Spider-Man defend her right to privacy, and she certainly doesn't argue. She furrows her brow a little bit when Spider-Man mentions Victor Von Doom finding out about her, but she doesn't comment on it for now. She needs to keep SOME cards close to her chest, afterall.
She glances weakly between the two, shifting a bit as she leans back against the crate.
Spider-man smiles wryly. "Skye…she knows. I know. I figure that's enough people in my book. Besides, I help people every day. Maybe I can give you my old Stalker's job, have you take pics of me for the Bugle when I'm out and about. I always seem to run into trouble."
"He looks back to Valeria, then says, "Look. There's a hotel in Little Odessa where you can lay low for awhile. Better than out here in a place like this. I'll get you over there and get you set up with a room. It's no palace…but I'll come by every day and look at that wound, change the dressings…and if it gets worse, we can talk about how you feel about a professional healer look at it."
An opportunity to follow Spider-Man while on the job and take pictures..? Skye can barely believe it. She's barely gotten into town..and Spider-Man's potentially offering her a job. She tries to play it cool.
"We should definitely talk."
It isn't long before another peculiar opportunity peeks its head around the corner. Ms. Doom needs to be relocated while injured. Sure, Spidey might be able to carry her off but Skye's done nothing but get in the way so far.
Without thinking about it she hooks a thumb over her shoulder and offers "I have a van? I mean if you think it might be better than what you normally do. I don't know."
Because c'mon. How cool would it be to play ambulance for a Latverian princess? Or maybe she's trying too hard to be helpful. It's like being in the presence of rockstars.
The blonde frowns softly and spends a long moment considering her options. She clearly hates being at the mercy of somebody like this, and needing help. She tries to sit up and then falls back, almost losing conciousness from it. It sets the reality of the situation into stone for her.
"Fine. Nothing will be…left behind, though. I need my…rifle…cloak and…mask."
Spider-Man looks at her. "Cloak, maybe. Mask, maybe. Rifle…? Mayyyybe after you can lift it without passing out. Right now getting better is your main objective."
He looks to Skye. "Pull up next to the bodega, I'll help her get down to the van. I think my default mode of travel will do more harm than good." He looked back to Valeria."After you get a few days to rest and recoup, we'll see about the rifle. But it'll be in safe hands. Namely, with someone who has NO interest in weapons. Won't do you any good until you get a few meals and a few nights of sleep, anyway."
Oh wow, this is actually happening. All Skye can do is give a sharp nod and a "Yah" then scurry out of the room, finally keeping the rest of her thoughts to herself. Spidey's insistence that the weapon would be going somewhere other than left on the floor is enough for her, something like that -really- shouldn't be falling into the wrong hands.
Hopefully Valeria is too out of it to be picky about the condition of her transportation. Frankly it's going to leave a lot to be desired. But it's reliable! And it's free! So..there's that!
"Then you grab it," the Princess scowls. "I will not leave it behind…for any peasant…to claim. It is one…of a kind." She -is- too weak to carry it, though. Honestly, if her armor wasn't powered by that nuclear reactor in the chest, she wouldn't be able to lift the titanium she is wearing. She sits up slowly, showing a remarkable lack of pain on her pretty face, even as she fights for every movement. The servos in her armor whir a bit as she reaches out to grip the wall and slowly pull herself to her feet. If Spider-Man or someone moves to help her, she waves it off. "I am not an…invalid."
Spider-Man eyes her, but moves to pick up the rifle carefully, as he probably should. "No, you're not an invalid. But you ARE a gunshot victim, a pint or so low on the blood allotment, and recovering from surgery. So be CAREFUL, or I'm carrying you AND the rifle." He does a spot-check for anything else as he packs the kit away.
Running. Lots of running. Skye didn't park right outside of the building, that would have been far too easy. But at some point she does roll up to the front of the building and give two taps of the horn before trying to clear out a space in the back. With any luck she won't have to wash Latverian blood out of anything when this is all over with.
Moving to New York City was definitely the right move. Maybe it can't be like this all of the time but what a way to be introduced to the place!
She frowns softly at Spider-Man, and then she nods. She moves to slowly follow him to the door of the room before she pauses. She glances back at the wreckage of the room and leans on the wall to steady herself. She raises a hand and makes an odd gesture with it, extending some fingers, but not others. She whispers words in a language that slithers through the brain and doesn't sound QUITE like a real language. A charge of energy erupts in the air, and the smell of burning can be noticed.
The blood spattered about the room suddenly sizzles and pops and steams…and then burns away to nothing. Something clearly happened her, but her DNA evidence is absolutely gone. She teeters a moment after that, though and grunts, before turning to follow.
Spidey walks with Valeria to the van, looking around before opening the van door for Valeria. The rifle he puts in the rear, for now. He points at Skye's phone, and a new contact (SPIDEY) appears in the phone, as well as a waypoint for a small cheap hotel in Brooklyn, a safe distance from the bombed-out areas.
"I'll meet you there. You'll attract less attention if I'm not in the van with you." He looked to Valeria. "I'll also come by in a couple of hours with food, water, and a laptop computer with a cracked screen but works fine otherwise. I'll also get you a prepaid phone."
Skye probably shouldn't be so excited considering there's a fresh gunshot wound involved. In a flash she gains some serious street cred by having a new contact added to her phone. The directions are already locked in, too. "Hey, thanks. Don't worry, we'll get you there" is what she says to the others. Though on the inside it's a lot more like 'this is the coolest day ever!'
Once everything is secured and Valeria is as well off as she's likely to be the vanbulance gets a-rolling. What an interesting way to see this part of town…
The Princess nods slowly to Spider-Man's words as she slides into the van. She narrows her eyes and peers about the van, taking it all in curiously.
"Doom is in debt to the both of you. Do not forget this, because Doom shall not." With that she settles back, her brilliant mind beginning to wander as she considers just how to handle this new situation.
Spidey closed the door of the van and fired a webline. He is handling this fairly well, he thinks.
But then again…dealing with doom is something he's dealt with a LOT lately…