#Spiderverse AU2

[therapardalis]

[Starter for @peterbsideparker.]

Port of New York, warehouse district ... evening ...

Thank goodness for cooler weather. Not that Thera was a fan of the cold, leaning more toward the opposite, but it made being dressed head to toe in black, with a bike jacket over the top, more bearable.

You could hardly go clandestinely lurking about the docks in a summer frock, after all.

A forklift was rolling along the carriageway between the buildings, an innocent looking crate on the pallet hoisted on its jaws. Hmm ... Thera watched it from above, lifting dark-tinted thermos to her lips. The Port itself rarely ever slept, but it was less common for cargo to be ferried about after dark. Especially one single crate rather than a bunch all at once. Eenie, meenie, miney, moe ... She settled back, waiting, but she was already fairly sure which door was going to be 'moe'.

Container Warehouse 333, one of the older section with a suspiciously new-looking office space added up above. It had taken a bit of detective work to find the location (some of it the more ruthless kind), and she felt her pulse speed up a little as the forklift driver stopped and climbed down to open the rollerdoor.

Thera used the metallic clatter of the ascending roller as distraction and cover, darting to the nearest overhead crossway and skipping to the other side. Everything pointed to that lonely singular crate holding what she was here to find, and the new pre-fab office section was going to be her way in ...

[therapardalis]

[Doctor Who Meme from @xenjoyedthat.]

"You know, this isn’t nearly as bad as it looks." [human!lyla shenanigans perhaps? owo ] ------------

"Yes it bloody well is!" Thera held up a jacket in blazing fuschia pink, most of the lines smooth and borderline formal - except for the huge shoulder pads bulking it up at the top. It had been hanging on a rack beside an assortment of clothes in equally vibrant colours, each item stirring up memories that flapped around like long-ago butterflies of cringe.

" ... I don't mind the shirt," She admitted, eyeing the overdone ruffles on the neckline, "I've been wearing those kind since the 1600s. But the rest ... I realise I'm the only one here who lived through the 1980s, but it's kinda embarrassing to go back ..."

[therapardalis]

Cullman Hall, Rose Center for Earth and Space, AMNH, New York ...

One thing Thera had always found amusing were 'fund-raising' events that seemed to cost more than they might make. Mind you, this one was shooting very, very high, as a glance at the guest list gave away; Stark, Pym, Alchemax ... even Hammer, still trying to pick their shit up and catch the others. All potential corporate sponsors on a massive scale.

Add in some assorted socialites, Wall Street millionaires and the occasional politician, and the Museum might come out of this extremely well indeed. There were also at least three people she strongly suspected of being SHIELD agents, mingling just a little too deliberately with the crowd.

Well ... she couldn't really fault that, given she wasn't there purely for the champagne herself. She just hoped they weren't looking for the same thing she was.

She strolled across the richly decorated hall, dress moving smoothly with her hips and legs, helped herself to another glass of red wine and turned, back not too far from the wall, and took another casual survey of the room ...

[ @spiderbyhalf ]

[therapardalis]

[ITSV Meme from @spiderbyhalf.]

"Thera, you’re gonna get yourself killed." ------------

"So people tell me often enough." Unspoken, but still very plain, was the follow-on that she hadn't listened any of those times, either. Arms folded over her chest she moved around the strategy table, studying the map she already had memorised and shuffling pieces into place behind her eyes.

Also unspoken was the idea that it didn't seem like Miguel to actually voice that sort of concern out loud; he was much more likely just to grunt and insist in doing it himself. That thought rattled itself around past the others, nudged her as something she should address.

"I appreciate it, Miguel, truly - but I've been doing this sort of thing for a very long time. And I promise I'm not intending to be stupid about it." On that score, how much she seemed to be and how much she actually was were often very different creatures.

"You have the Big Picture to worry about, let me sweat the small stuff. Unless ..." Her eyebrows lifted curiously, "You know something else about this job that you don't want to tell me?"

[therapardalis]

"Yours was bad, I can just never step back from a challenge!" Also, 'retro' and vintage bands? Sign her the heck up! "Is that your speed of music?"

"Oh man and I thought mine was bad!" He was only teasing, he knew it was about an equal level of bad.

[therapardalis]

@spiderbyhalf therapardalis sent: ❛ if i have to think about one more thing today, my head will explode. ❜ ------------ Parked at his console, Miguel lent an attentive pause as he strained to peer over the crown of his shoulder. An eyebrow sprang into a quizzical shape. "It's painful when you're starting out," he assured her politely. "Just take it one step at a time." He turned back and his fingers flowed with swift precision over the holo-keyboard. One after the other, the words stamped across the page with smooth, deadline speed, framing the top of a thumbnail then hugging its side. Miguel's brow pressed over his eyes. "Okay, I need to finish this debriefing—hey, did you check on those accession records like I asked? Have you made any progress toward locating the watch?"

.

"Oh, don't worry ..." She didn't go thinking he actually was, except perhaps about the work being delayed - or because she kept annoying the computer with habits learned seventy years before it had even been built. "It's always rough learning a new system."

Although as someone who had started writing when paper was still a rarity, she usually adapted a bit faster than this. It wasn't like she hadn't ever used a touch-screen, after all.

Glancing up, her brow creased a little once again, "I thought I sent you those -" A huff of a sigh, as most likely either she or the computer had messed that up as well. "Do you want me to try sending them again, or just come over and look at them here? When you're done with the debriefing, I mean. And as far as progress ... I've got some possibles, and I think I have an idea on how to narrow it down."

[therapardalis]

[Grown Adults Meme from @xsolastine.]

10. Hiding from Someone (who'd he piss off /this/ time, whoops!) ------------

"Gabe, that is not what I said - !" Thera grits the words out - not because she has to clarify but because she's reaching back an arm, again, to keep Gabriel from rubbernecking so far around the corner that he'll be seen. "I didn't say he was my ex," She sighs, not sure if he genuinely misheard or if he's just giving her shit, "I said he's my ex-Boss."

Which is ... actually likely to stir up more questions than the alternative. Parked in the street in their line of sight is a gleaming black SUV, reminiscent of a suburban family pickup, but with a light-swallowing paint job and dark-tinted windows that screamed secret agent louder than a 'shaken. not stirred'. And standing beside it was a tall man wearing a long black trenchcoat and, on closer glimpse, a patch over one eye.

"Every time he shows up he tries to convince me to do another job ..."

[therapardalis]

Miguel ... well, that didn't immediately click with anything or anyone - not even one of those annoying feelings that there was a connection somewhere in her memory, and she just had to pin it down. That could have been good or bad, but neutral was, at least, exactly that.

He was also not being openly aggressive. Suspicious, for sure, and definitely leaning to the irritated side, but Thera couldn't blame him for those. She was, after all, very much leaning to the first one herself. "Let's just say I've seen a lot of shit." Seen it, met it, dealt with it ... had it thrown at her, much like this guy popping up in the middle of her afternoon run.

But he was talking rather than attacking, seemed just as confused as she was, and ... she exhaled through her teeth, tossed a quick glance over her shoulder, "My name is Thera, and ... well, you're the weirdest thing today, but I haven't read the news yet." A second's pause, making up her mind, "We should get out of here before someone else comes to look."

Miguel stood where he had landed, not letting her movements bother him but he did notice how she didn't freak out about his arrival and most people did. He stared at her a moment, realizing he didn't know who she might be, sometimes he did with briefings on the world before but nothing rang a bell.

"Miguel, but that doesn't matter, I'm here to look for someone or to help in case things have been weird around here... Does this world have lots of visitors? You don't seem surprised that someone just appeared from a portal before you." He muttered quietly. "I gave you my name, how about you give me yours." He said simply, not being so forthcoming. She looked normal and was very pretty if he was looking more into that yet he wasn't for now. He didn't want to chance losing anyone else close to him...

[therapardalis]

Monsters, villains, falling buildings, Spiderman could handle. Pesky reporters? Those were like flies you couldn't swat, especially when cameras were rolling, taking in your every move. Thera didn't really have any direct reason to help out, but she could see him starting to cringe (dare she say cower?) and would feel kinda bad if she didn't.

She kept pointing in the direction she'd chosen for the supposed 'robbery', long enough for the news team to catch on and start jogging back to their car - then she just turned on her heel and walked away, not giving anyone else a chance to ask questions, or even get a proper look at her face.

Especially not get a proper look at her face.

Making it around the next corner she paused long enough to push her hood back from her hair, exhaled and couldn't help a quiet laugh. Oh, the joys of living in NYC!

Shaking out the hood so that it didn't bunch up behind she continued along the street - still amused by her good deed for the day.

The whole whether or not Vigilantes were GOOD guys or BAD guys had been a debate for longer than even Peter had been swinging around the streets of New York City, and it was often one he tried to avoid in his old age because no matter how much GOOD he did for the city there was always someone saying that he was a MENACE and nothing more.

That of course didn't mean he couldn't handle it when he did get TRAPPED up in a conversation with some reporter who was DETERMINED to get their big story or a paparazzi trying to get their next paycheck... it just got FRUSTRATING since they were just normal humans and it wasn't exactly like he could web their mouths shut when they finally went a step to far. (And they almost always did)

He did try to keep up appearances though, never TOO rude whenever he was caught by one who was just honestly (albeit too EAGERLY) trying to do their job. But he had just about had enough, and was debating on climbing the DAMN WALLS to get away. Just before he could however though he was saved by a SHOUT!

Peter's head snapped up in the general direction, squinting to see if he could find the source. His SPIDEY SENSES told him there wasn't actually any robbery happening the next block up, but he was smart enough to see an out being given to him.

"WELP you know how it goes! DUTY CALLS!!!" he gave a half wave to the reporter before shooting his webs to a nearby rough so he could make a HASTY exit. Though once free he didn't go far, instead choosing to find a nearby alley, hanging back just enough to see if he would get a chance to THANK his rescuer.

[therapardalis]

It took something a little bit not-ordinary' to catch Thera's attention, enough so that she'd be out of a night lurking on a roof. She didn't like stolen artifacts as a whole, whether a recent theft or an old one that'd been sitting in someone's attic for a generation or two; but chasing them all would be a full time job, and there were people being paid to do that.

What bothered her, and got her moving on something that wasn't animal trafficking was ... well, say anything about curses or old magic and (most) people laughed. But both - and here she was as proof of one if not the other - were very real, and sometimes thieves and buyers didn't know just what they had.

And sometimes they did, which was often worse.

The office space wasn't exactly cheap pre-fab (it had to survive the elements after all), but it was fairly new and less likely to have solid security; anyone breaking into a warehouse would be going for the goods below. And so it was an easy matter to open a window, planning to slide through and head for the stairs.

Except ...

Birds hung around the docks even at night, skittish at the best of times, and when a few startled somewhere nearby Thera's head lifted in response. Now, what had caused that ...

For a second she paused, eyes darting, then exhaled in a puff and ducked through the window regardless; she wasn't going to get a chance like this one again very soon ...

'I hate the cold...' Peter grumbled to himself under his breath, swinging through the damp cold air surrounding the NY port. He let go of the webline at the last moment and landing in a sturdy crouch on top of a streetlamp overlooking the lot of warehouses. He gave a full body shiver, rubbing his arms to get some warmth back in them, as big silver lenses scanned the area for any movement. 'Smugglers couldn't pick a more seasonal time for their crimes... Like June?' There had been rumblings through the underside of the city, that something was bound to come through the international shipping lines. Something big... Or at least important enough to cause a stir through the criminal community. Peter had gotten the info secondhand, thanks to those tentative connections he still had at the Bugle that he clung onto, and bolstered by snooping around and busting a few smaller gang activities nearby. But it was enough to catch his interest in investigating. His luck? It'd be an illegal shipment of counterfeit Avengers merch... And wouldn't Stark have a field day to hear Spider-Man had crawled his sorry butt out into the cold to save the day from cheap plastic crap? There. Just out of the corner of his eye, movement in the shadows. Peter tilted his head, seeing the warehouse door crank its way open, an idling forklift with one single crate in front of it. '...Eh. Guess it's enough to warrant a look. Might as well make the trip out here worth it.' Peter fired another line and propelled himself silently through the air, hopping from building to building until he was on the roof of the same warehouse. He crawled, sticking close to the surface and out of sight, making his way towards a rooftop access hatch he could pry open. For now he'd watch, and wait. What's the worst that could happen, honestly...?

[therapardalis]

"Don't worry, Pete, it's not the end of the world."

@therapardalis wants a dad pun !!!

"Back in the day, I got my photo taken with REM. That’s me in the corner."