Be afraid, be very afraid. There's a Spider-Man on the loose. He has a camera and he's not afraid to catch you without your make-up on
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Spider-man isn't the only one running around snapping photos - Batman's at it, too, but for a very different reason. Now that Terry finally got the suit back, he's taking advantage of it, and using its recording capabilities to gather information. Fly-overs of the city to build a map, covertly taken mug-shots of his fellow crew mates... whatever info may coming in handy later.
But for all the sneaky photo-taking he's been doing, he probably won't like it if someone starts doing the same thing to him.
While he doesn't have the ninja chops that the bats pride themselves on, (it's the yap) he's the best part of a decade into his trade and he can websling with remarkable discretion.
There's a blur of red and blue as he swoops past Terry's spot in the city, the ktch! of the shutter and a flash. Yeah, those kind of give him away.
Well that and the shout of, "Lemme see those pearly whites!"
A few months without the suit had left Terry a little rusty. Spider-man was quick enough that Terry didn't have time to throw his arm in front of his face, like he normally would for anyone trying to film Batman.
The flash bulb did a number on the various filters set up in his mask to help him see in various levels of dark, so he not only had to blink the normal spots in his vision away, but also wait for the screen to adjust back to normal. When his vision was back to normal, he spotted the red and blue costume. He growled under the mask.
"HEY!" He shouted, and with a slight flick of his wrist readied a batarang. He did not like being photographed in the suit, even if he was on an alien spaceship, and he was all to willing to destroy cameras that got his image.
"A howdy to you too!" he calls back, already barrel-rolling from one webline to another, "People in this city... so polite."
He gives Terry a jovial wave before his line pulls him down between the buildings. He knows more than anyone that you ought to make a hasty retreat after papping a super.
Dustin doesn’t realize the danger until it’s too late.
Not at all photogenic by any normal standards, the scruffy, mild-mannered, fresh-out-of-bed genius staggered onto the Observation Deck. The look in his bloodshot emerald eyes says volumes about his current mood; mostly it says that he needs coffee. What made Dustin assume that there was coffee on the Obs Deck is a mystery to anyone.
Regardless, he’s there now, overcoat draped over his shoulders and a fancy-looking thermos tightly clamped in his hands, and he’s spotted the odd man in web-patterned pajamas at the other end of the room. Dustin stood stock still, staring at him like the gunslinger that he was (albeit a very grumpy gunslinger without his guns). His groggy brain registered first the identity of this man; then it noted the camera.
The whistle of prairie wind, the soft bounce of a tumble weed. John Wayne stance, his fingers rap cautiously against the camera. Somewhere, Ennio Morricone is playing.
Like Han Solo before Special Edition, you betcha he's shooting first.
Dustin reflexively brought his arms in front of his face-too late to save himself and his retinas, unfortunately. The flash was burned into his vision, his overcoat was on the floor, and the heavy metal thermos was still flying through the air, but with that guy’s reflexes it shouldn’t pose much of a threat.
By this point Dustin was only concerned with knowing where his opponent was, and if he came bearing caffeine. All would be forgiven in that instance. Until then, Dustin cautiously poked his eyes out from behind his thin arms and took a careful glance at his surroundings, looking absolutely tortured.
Oh, that was going to be one sweet action shot. A quick webshot tethers the thermos to the ceiling, converting it into a very nice chandelier. Though he is a New Yorker and sure enough, there's a pot of joe perched by one of the fleshy sofas.
Peter stuffs the camera back in his belt pocket before Dustin can contemplate going into it-girl-getting-papped-on-a-bad-hair-day mode, "Eh, nothing really, unless you've got a quote for the blurb. I'm thinking 'Spider-Man's keen eye never fails to find that diamond in the rough [sic] and writes with all the wit and panash of Woody Allen. The Annie Hall of photography books.' How's that sound?"
Goliath's first instinct is to get that camera and crush it.
Then he remembers that pictures of his clan used to float around tabloid magazines all the time and that with all things considered, secrecy is the least of his problems right now.
He crosses his arms, obstinately not posing. "If you write a book, I will read it."
"I will pen many complaints if there are factual inaccuracies."
Don't knock Ulysses. Goliath loved Ulysses. Also, congrats Peter, you are now in possession of THE ONLY clear shot of any gargoyle that was not taken on one Halloween or another. And is that a half-smile? Well snap, it is.
"Perhaps something with a little more allegory. 'Once More Into the Bleed' has a certain ring to it."
Yes, Marco had heard the sound of running commentary as he was heading towards the Media Room to kick some futuristic game's ass. But, unlike any sane person, he wasn't running.
Oh no. Thanks to some of the other crewmates, Marco knew Spider-Man was on board - but he had yet to meet him. And that sounded very much like it could be the man himself, and there was no way he was not going to go and see.
So he quickly followed in the direction of that voice, possibly to his doom, and said, "Maybe you could write a picture-book."
"It's a travesty, I know, but for some reason people keep writing them," Marco said, wearing a massive grin. He was talking to Spider-man! Spider-man! "You should see the one my friend wrote. Eesh."
Ah, Dr. Suess. Classic reading man, classic reading.
But, as fun as the making-fun-of books conversation was, there was something Marco just had to ask. "Hey, you've met Batman here, right?" he said, and intense and somewhat sly expression crossing his face. "...who do you reckon would win, in a fight between the two of you?"
"Dude, there are countless book burnings out there that are just dying to be exploited."
He scratches the back of his neck, "He the guy, say, yay high?" he stretches an arm a good foot above his own head, "Pointy ears? Captain America, the Linkin Park Years?"
That last one's a bit of an understatement, he'd be the first to admit, "Yeah, I've seen him around. I reckon I could take him. I mean, that's clearly padding that he's wearing."
Comments 37
But for all the sneaky photo-taking he's been doing, he probably won't like it if someone starts doing the same thing to him.
Reply
There's a blur of red and blue as he swoops past Terry's spot in the city, the ktch! of the shutter and a flash. Yeah, those kind of give him away.
Well that and the shout of, "Lemme see those pearly whites!"
Reply
The flash bulb did a number on the various filters set up in his mask to help him see in various levels of dark, so he not only had to blink the normal spots in his vision away, but also wait for the screen to adjust back to normal. When his vision was back to normal, he spotted the red and blue costume. He growled under the mask.
"HEY!" He shouted, and with a slight flick of his wrist readied a batarang. He did not like being photographed in the suit, even if he was on an alien spaceship, and he was all to willing to destroy cameras that got his image.
Reply
He gives Terry a jovial wave before his line pulls him down between the buildings. He knows more than anyone that you ought to make a hasty retreat after papping a super.
Reply
Not at all photogenic by any normal standards, the scruffy, mild-mannered, fresh-out-of-bed genius staggered onto the Observation Deck. The look in his bloodshot emerald eyes says volumes about his current mood; mostly it says that he needs coffee. What made Dustin assume that there was coffee on the Obs Deck is a mystery to anyone.
Regardless, he’s there now, overcoat draped over his shoulders and a fancy-looking thermos tightly clamped in his hands, and he’s spotted the odd man in web-patterned pajamas at the other end of the room. Dustin stood stock still, staring at him like the gunslinger that he was (albeit a very grumpy gunslinger without his guns). His groggy brain registered first the identity of this man; then it noted the camera.
”…This will not end well.”
Reply
Like Han Solo before Special Edition, you betcha he's shooting first.
Ktch!
Reply
By this point Dustin was only concerned with knowing where his opponent was, and if he came bearing caffeine. All would be forgiven in that instance. Until then, Dustin cautiously poked his eyes out from behind his thin arms and took a careful glance at his surroundings, looking absolutely tortured.
“What do you want from me?”
Reply
Peter stuffs the camera back in his belt pocket before Dustin can contemplate going into it-girl-getting-papped-on-a-bad-hair-day mode, "Eh, nothing really, unless you've got a quote for the blurb. I'm thinking 'Spider-Man's keen eye never fails to find that diamond in the rough [sic] and writes with all the wit and panash of Woody Allen. The Annie Hall of photography books.' How's that sound?"
Reply
Then he remembers that pictures of his clan used to float around tabloid magazines all the time and that with all things considered, secrecy is the least of his problems right now.
He crosses his arms, obstinately not posing. "If you write a book, I will read it."
Reply
Could you really imagine reading a book penned by Spider-Man? It would make Ulysses look like a weekend supplement, and only make half as much sense.
"Got any good ideas for a title? So far I haven't come up with anything better than Ohm be trippin'!"
Reply
Don't knock Ulysses. Goliath loved Ulysses. Also, congrats Peter, you are now in possession of THE ONLY clear shot of any gargoyle that was not taken on one Halloween or another. And is that a half-smile? Well snap, it is.
"Perhaps something with a little more allegory. 'Once More Into the Bleed' has a certain ring to it."
Reply
It'll go in the Nice guys that are totally misunderstood chapter. The rest of the shots in there will be self-portraits.
"I like it, I like it," he replies tapping his chin, "get the Shakey crowd's attention..."
By the time it makes it into their hands it is far, far more likely to have evolved - or de-evolved - into Once More I Soiled My Breeches.
Reply
Oh no. Thanks to some of the other crewmates, Marco knew Spider-Man was on board - but he had yet to meet him. And that sounded very much like it could be the man himself, and there was no way he was not going to go and see.
So he quickly followed in the direction of that voice, possibly to his doom, and said, "Maybe you could write a picture-book."
Reply
Peter's reading list includes the TV guide and anything by Dr. Seuss.
Reply
Ah, Dr. Suess. Classic reading man, classic reading.
But, as fun as the making-fun-of books conversation was, there was something Marco just had to ask. "Hey, you've met Batman here, right?" he said, and intense and somewhat sly expression crossing his face. "...who do you reckon would win, in a fight between the two of you?"
Marco was so going to prove Jake wrong.
Reply
He scratches the back of his neck, "He the guy, say, yay high?" he stretches an arm a good foot above his own head, "Pointy ears? Captain America, the Linkin Park Years?"
That last one's a bit of an understatement, he'd be the first to admit, "Yeah, I've seen him around. I reckon I could take him. I mean, that's clearly padding that he's wearing."
Reply
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