Summary:Gwen and Hercules team up for some robot-rocking android-socking fun! Log Info:Storyteller: None |
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Never a dull moment in New York City.
Gwen is currently feeling that axiom quite well. Alright, maybe it's not an axiom, or even a saying, but it darn well ought to be. Since first putting on the mask she's dealt with everything from muggers to terrorists to literally a vampire from another dimension who wanted to eat her best friend. So really, she ought not be surprised by anything at this point. And yet.
"Robots? Seriously?" The Spider-Woman swings between a couple of highrise buildings, zeroing in on where a trio of… literally robots, humanoid and made of metal and gears and wielding far more firepower than ought to be allowed to anyone, are busy ripping the side off an armored car in the middle of evening traffic. "Seriously," she complains, still on her approach. "I mean, come on, does nobody watch The Terminator anymore?"
Another webline worth of swinging brings the young spider within striking distance; she swings, and lets go at the last moment to sail through the air, executing a brilliant flying kick straight into the side of one of the robots… and bounce straight off of it, hardly making it budge even an inch. Definitely, that did not go according to plan; a fact that flashes through Gwen's brain as she finds herself laying on the ground, looking up at a robot equipped with a really big gun. Like really big.
And that's when the cavalry arrives!
The footfalls might be audible at first, the steady pounding beat of a champion runner in their stride. And as they close the pavement quivers, and the robot pauses as it looms over Gwen, looking up as a deep voice thunders, "Rejoice! For this day, the Lion of Olympus brings you the gift of battle!"
And that's when Hercules hits the robot pretty much head on like a twenty-car freight train loaded with ore hitting a Fiat. The robot's chest crumples inwards like tinfoil; the gun arm tries to line up on Herc but is unceremoniously torn from its socket, and then the limb is brought down on the robot's head like a certain fellow god's hammer. The sound is a lot like a collapsing smithy. "HAVE AT YOU!"
Normally, Gwen is on her feet a lot faster after getting knocked down like that. …Well… after… knocking herself down, but we are not talking about that. This time, however, she's free to observe as a… strange person arrives and rips the robot into bits without appearing to put too much effort into it. "I, well, that," she sputters.
"I totally had that under control!"
No she didn't.
Gwen bounces back up to her feet, and jumps up on top of what's left of the armored car; maybe the robots are too big for her to knock down — saying they 'weight a ton' would be doing them a huge disservice, really — but there's other ways around the problem. A pair of weblines sieze hold of the big machinegun one of the other two robots is holding, and with a sharp tug and a little bit of a struggle, she pulls the thing out of the automaton's hands. "Here, catch!" she shouts, throwing the thing at the other 'bot. After bending the barrel to point a different direction, of course. Safety first, kids.
At least the newcomer is easy on the eyes. A veritable wall o'beef, in fact. Which turns out to be a good thing, as the third robot levels its machinegun at him and fires a burst. Heavy, hammering rounds knock Hercules back on his heels, but instead of shredded flesh and shattered bone, the rounds flatten against his flesh, energy expending uselessly against him.
Herc, for his part, looks a bit angry. "These automatons are naught but clockwork horrors, girl! Do not restrain yourself on their account!" As the second's machinegun slams into the third, knocking it off balance, he stamps on a manhole cover, causing it to flip into the air like a tiddlywink. Snatching it out of the air, he whirls once, arm at extension before letting the cover fly like a discus. His aim is true, though the cover shears into the second robot's shoulder, wedging itself there and causing the arm to go limp. "Hmph! I was aiming for his head…"
Gwen jumps off the armored car, after taking a moment to make sure that the man who talks like he's straight out of a B Movie is stll okay after being shot at with that really big gun. …And he is. Well, probably it pays off to assume that people who just blithely charge into battle with robots can probably handle themselves. "…I'm not restraining nothin'!" she shouts back, as she jumps off the armored car wreck, landing in front of the third robot.
The automaton levels its machinegun at her, but before it can fire the spider grabs the end. "Boink!" she declares, as she casually bends it to point upwards, at a ninety degree angle from the rest of the weapon. "Naughty naughty!" she adds, as she leaps at the robot, avoiding a grab as she scurries over its shoulder to crouch on its back.
Using one knee to brace herself, the Spider-Woman grabs hold of the robot's head with one hand on rests the other on its shoulders, giving a sharp, muscle-popping pull upwards. "Almost…" she gasps after a moment, while the robot is flailing about, trying to get her off. "Almost," she repeats, followed by an 'oomph' as the 'bot tries slamming her backwards against the side of the armored car.
There's a loud crack followed by a fhping, and a screw goes flying out of the robot's neck. "PROGRESS!" shouts the spider, recoubling her efforts on pulling. …What the heck are these robots made of, anyway?!
Herc would move to help, but the second robot has taken grievous offense to having a manhole cover jammed into its shoulder. It swings its remaining arm straight down, forcing Herc to block, which he does with a grunt. The force is such that while Herc's limbs don't buckle, the pavement under his boots cracks. "A feisty one, aren't you?" It's not certain if he's talking to Gwen or the robot.
Grasping the robot's forearm with one hand, fingers digging into its metal hull, he pulls down to force the robot to lean closer. Within arm's reach, and his other fist slams into its face, denting plate, crushing optics. Over and over, pounding on its head, as he grunts, "So, lass…" *WHAM* "… do you have a name I could call you by?" *WHAM* "It's always more polite than 'hey you'…" *WHAM*
"Yep, Feisty!" Gwen replies. It's not clear if she's talking about herself or the robot. Speaking of robots, she's still working on hers; after a few moments more of pulling and struggling, she switches tactics, and goes for the optics. It turns out that popping those out with her thumbs is much easier; with the twin metal and bullet-proof glass and electronics dangling by wires she just tears them loose, and tosses them down the now uncovered manhole.
"Spider-Woman!" she replies, with that done and the robot now blinded. It tries firing its gun, which results in it backfiring and the whole thing going off with a loud bang, showered bits of weapon all over the place.
Somehow, Gwen had managed to move to the robot's other side before that explosion happened. "Nice to meet someone in the workplace who's not trying to beat the stuffing out of me," she adds, crawlign back up onto the bot's shoulders and digging her fingers into its eye sockets for another solid tug, which results in something else breaking.
"So what do I call you? Other than Lion of Olympus. How 'bout Lio?"
At this point, the robot on Hercules has more 'crater' than actual face, from his repeated punches. He clamps a hand on the robot's head, and gives a brisk pull — and the whole head assembly comes off, with a plethora of pathetic beeps and sputtering sounds.
"I am Hercules of Thebes, Spider-Woman," the big guy introduces himself. "And it's a pleasure to meet you." He drops the robot's head as the body just keels over with a crash, before moving towards the blinded third that Gwen is clinging to. "Do you need help, or would you prefer to finish it off yourself?" Clearly he doesn't mind either way.
"No no, I got it," Gwen puffs, straining her muscles to their absolute limit. "Seriously… how are you just… ripping them apart like that?" Not that Gwen is any sort of slouch herself, mind you, just making the progress she is managing is pretty incredible by ordinary standards. She keeps pulling until a loud crack signals an armor plate on the robot's neck coming loose; she tears it away and jams her hand inside, grabbing a handful of wiring and giving that a sharp pull.
"I—OW OW GOD BAD IDEA." She jumps off the robot as tearing the wiring loose gives her one hell of an electric shock, and it's almost like in comic books where you can see her bones for a moment. Well, not really, but nobody'd blame anyone for imagining it that way. The robot lands on the ground with a hollow 'thunk', and Gwen lands on her feet, with smoke rising off her shoulders.
"Okay," she gasps, holding up a single finger. "New rule. No grabbing the sparky-bits of death robots."
He has the good grace to look puzzled. "I'm Hercules," he says, as if this explains everything. Perhaps to him, it does. When he sees Spider-Woman jam her hand into the wiring, he starts to open his mouth again — but too late, as she gets shocked. Fortunately, it looks like the robot was disabled as well.
"Are you all right?" he inquires, looking a little concerned. Smoke rising off you is never a good sign. "Maybe you should sit down for a moment. Catch your breath. It looks like there were only three of these clockwork contraptions."
"I'm fine," Gwen wheezes, patting one hand over her chest for a moment. "I mean… I might not be a god or something, but I'm a lot tougher than ordinary people. It'll take more'n that to knock me down for the count." She shakes her head, and then, after a moment's thought, decides that sitting down on the curb might be a good idea afterall.
"So… literally Hercules, hunh?" She looks up at the slab of muscle standing beside her. "Well, why not, I mean I met Thor the other day." She pauses, the eyes on her mask changing size; one getting bigger, the other getting smaller, as she gives the man a sideways look. "So… are you two thousand years old, then? Is Olympus a real place? Was there really a Nemean Lion and did you actually muck out a stable by redirecting a river?"
Geeze Gwen, don't be shy with the questions or anything.
This isn't the first time Herc has gotten that sort of barrage. But still, it's oddly gratifying, to know he's remembered. "Literally Hercules," he agrees. He chuckles. "Thor? There's an old friend I need to catch up with. Eventually." He rubs his beard, regarding the masked girl, before continuing.
"Three thousand. But I don't worry about counting them any more. Yes, Mount Olympus is a real place. Yes, there was a Nemean lion and I wouldn't have had to throttle it if it hadn't become a man-eater. And yes, I redirected two rivers through the Augean stables. It was that or burn them down."
Gwen groans softly; but the smoke has at least gone out, so she bounces back up to her feet. "Okay. Feeling much better, after a little sit-down." She nods once. "Three thousand? Cripes. …I'm nineteen years old, and I'm still counting. Every year the little gathering of candles on top of the cake gets a little more crowded." She plants her hands on her hips, and hunhs softly. "Mount Olympus is real? Well, you gotta take me there to see it someday," she adds, though her voice sounds more like she's teasing than serious. I—"
Gwen trails off, as the sound of sirens picks up in the distance. "Aaaand there's my cue to exit stage left," she declares. "Not all of the police are entirely friendly to us spiders. There's been some bad press we didn't deserve, you know how it works. …Wanna go get a burger sometime? You don't meet a god every day, I need to ask you more questions. …For science."
Hercules chuckles. "I am at your service. It seems more than a few are curious about my claims and wish to use science to study me." He waves her off. "Go. I shall distract the constabulary sufficiently for you to make your getaway. If you wish to find me, the bartender at Luke's has my 'phone number'." It's clear saying that, he's still a little uncertain as to what it actually -means-, besides 'how to contact the device in his possession'.