riverview | Video. Burner Phone: Spider-Man.

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Video. Burner Phone: Spider-Man. | hhhEEELP

Hey, so, need a hand — shit — damn it —

[LANGUAGE.

Also sorry, there's a THUMP-TING noise, because he clips into a light post he did noooot see in the middle of swinging over the city.

The feed spins to life, a red, white, and black masked face in instant view for a moment before the video rolls and rolls — a cement roof underfoot, as the figure stumbles with a gasp of surprise before pretty much crash-landing. The screen is black, the unseen figure moans, and then, holding achy ribs (it was a light fall, no worries, but the way this hurts way more when it didn't before is a little unnerving), he reappears again. It's the local Spider-Man, and the feed doesn't seem to want to stop shivering as the wind whistles. He swallows. Or, um, tries to, but he seems to have some trouble with that.

It's late in the afternoon, the light fading from the sky, and he's breathless from the running (swinging, climbing, panicking) he'd just done.]

Sorry! [Swallow.] Sorry. I fell, but I'm good. I'm, I'm fantastic. Never better. Don't tell Tony Stark. [An A-OK sign is held up with his fingers, the mask blissfully blank and pleasant and voice tempered into something less panicked; cool, we're in hero mode.] Uh, I was out looking for — for these two, Billy and Teddy? They haven't been around, so I was worried they'd... And then Lanie, she's this kid from the park, her mom can't find her. And I owe her, like, five front of the line amusement park coins at this point — right, not the time. But I've been scouting because her mom is seriously freaking out, and...

There were — there was this younger lady was flagging me for help. Said she hurt their ankle while she was out running, so I swung over, but it was tooootally a trap. Like, full-on 'Mouse Trap, look out, don't go for the cheese' kind of trap . And when I went to pick the lady up and take her to the hospital — [He seems to choke on the word a little, swallowing again, straining against something at his throat.] She snapped this on me, and some of their buddies jumped out to grab me once they knew it was latched and working.

[With a nervous chuckle, he shows the metal collar around his neck, which he vainly tries to claw his fingers under.

It's doing something to me. I can't see and hear things like I used to, and my strength's freakin' gone, and nothing's dialed to 11 right now. Like, it just sapped the powers right out of me. And let me tell you, swinging around when you've got no endurance and no healing factor is really scary! Indiana Jones is nuts. [A breathless laugh, brushing the situation off as easy-breezy and not an issue.] They must've thought my webshooters were a part of my powers or something, because they were were surprised when I took off like a bat out of heck. A-anyway, I'm really sorry. I didn't... I should've went after them, but I'm... I'm having a hard time focusing... a little...

This thing is, like, so uncomfortably tight. I think the clasp works like handcuffs do. [Another uncomfortable laugh that may or may not be bordering on a panic attack, as he scrapes gloved fingers against the too-tight collar again.] I can't even get the mask off.

[A pause, and he looks toward where he had swung in from — as if he's considering going back to the park, torn between common sense and his job as both a hero and perimeter guard member. "Peter, your heart rate is unnaturally high," Karen the AI says helpfully in his ear. He's trying to breathe against the fabric of the mask. His vision is blurry.

... He needs his glasses. But he doesn't own glasses anymore.

A bit more defeatedly:]

... Can anyone get this thing off and, I don't know. Figure out how it works?

Please?

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Send me your coordinates.

[Oh yes. Under the mask, his voice is just burnin' with that good ol' shame.]

... I can't, um... I can't read that.

At the moment.

It's a nice looking squiggle of letters, though, I promise!

[I'm fucking blind as a bat right now, it's great.]

( this is promising. voice pitched a little lower than it is when he's walking around without the mask on: )

Where are you?

... Shit.

[A pause.]

I mean, crap.

[Another pause.]

Somewhere high?

[Karen the handy dandy AI has thankfully mapped the area by the park, so she offers it to the poor kid instead; someone needed to throw him a bone anyway. Coordinates are sent to the other kid swiftly after, and Spider-Man seems to be talking to someone else who is definitely not there.]

Ah, thanks Karen. You're the best.

[Billy? Shit.]

I can get that off you, but there may not be much left.

[Sam just pinches the bridge of his nose for a moment because he is having A Week. First everything with the damn canisters, and now Parker's in a mess, and Billy and Teddy are missing? Shit, he's going to have to figure out how to sit on Tony and Stephen at the same time.]

I don't think you can actually keep this from Stark if you post it on an open channel. Just sayin'.

[Since everything else seems to be well in hand.]

Don't. Move.

( is all the warning he gives before disconnecting the feed entirely, grabbing onto some gear and an extra tool box, using the grapple gun in his belt to get through the city faster traveling by rooftop. damian is in full robin gear--not that peter will be able to see it very well: black and yellow cape, red shirt with the "R" symbol etched into it, green domino mask, green knee high lace-up boots. .

a depowered whatever this child is supposed to be (spider-man, it said? more like spiderboy) isn't very threatening, but he's careful to keep his steps heard regardless; a taptaptap against the cement of the rooftop as he approaches from the side. )

Let me see it.

[A deep breath in. God, that sounds nice, to just blast the thing off.

But after a moment, he shakes his head minutely. Everything is a blurry mess and he really wants to rip the mask off, but he can't anyway, not strong enough to tear it (and he doesn't wanna ruin Tony's hard work anyway.)]

... No. We need to keep it — as whole as possible.

Could help disable these, if we know how it works, right?

I didn't think of it in the middle of my swinging dramatics, okay?

[He is just a little snappy, like a true teenager ought to be, but there's a layer of bubbling panic under it that floats to the surface a little. He scrubs his face with his hands and is unhappy to find nothing magically corrects itself.]

... Can you, like. Put a hand in front of his screen.

Make loud beatbox noises to drown out the audio?

[He is curled up a little, knees pulled close, and the wiry dude definitely seems younger than he usually looks from afar — but then he looks in the guy's direction, and holds up a hand in salutations.]

Hey! Same hat.

[What's up fellow hero. But also, feel free to look at this thing. It's very akin to a turtle wrapped painfully in plastic soda rings, and Spider-Man has to keep his twitchy hands on his knees to not scrape at it again. Focus, Peter. Focus on the job.]

... Careful, we need it whole.

And don't cut my head off to do it? That's not what I had in mind.

[Oh look, a joke.]

[Blast it off, tear it apart...so many options.]

If it tightens anymore we might not have a choice.

...Stark could fix it, you know.

( small, yes. robin's a few inches over five feet, thin frame and all lean muscle over bone; he carries himself with the confidence of someone at least thrice his age, getting down onto his knees a few breaths away from spiderboy with a screwdriver in hand.

no one he's familiar with has disappeared yet, but he's followed the rumors going between locals well enough. has heard a few announcements of disappearances, and if they're getting collared, depowered, that--explains a lot. keeping this piece of tech in one piece could be crucial to tracking down the ones that have been kidnapped, or freeing them successfully.

so he clicks his tongue to the roof of his mouth, presses the tip of the screwdriver into where the collar clicked together. )

I'm not going to break it. Or you. ( a beat. ) Maybe.

You know there's two of them, right?

[Although he admittedly doesn't know if Sad Tony is overprotective of Peter ~~yes he is~~.

Sam's voice softens when he speaks again.]

Look, kid. Nobody expects you to do everything, okay? You don't have to apologize for not going after them when you're all fucked up. You got away, and that's what matters. Someone'll get that shit off of you and we can analyze it and use that to help the other people who have been kidnapped.

[Oh, right. Two of them.

Hilariously (stupidly), he's not worried they're gonna worry — he doesn't feel like he'd be someone the Starks would worry about. They're not super, super close, right? If anything, he might just be That Kid who Tony built a suit for, and has to keep an eye on for collateral damage.

He just doesn't want to annoy them, that's for sure.

Peter sucks in a little breath, glancing away from the screen with what is probably guilt — he really shouldn't have bolted like that. It was a fight or flight reaction that got tipped right into flight when he realized his powers were completely sapped. He was just anxious, fleeing Peter all over again. That nerd with the big glasses who avoided trouble and kept his nose down.

It was a mistake, he thinks, to have let that get to him.

But he is smart enough to also recognize if it were someone else, he would have told them it was smart to get out of there. His voice is a little quieter, strained, though the collar doesn't help with that.]

... I know. I just — people are going missing, and I had a chance to do something. I didn't think it through under pressure.

Edited 2018-06-14 19:42 (UTC)

Nooo, no, it's fine. I've got this all under control.

[He does not, but.]

Mr. Stark's got enough problems right now; I don't need to be an extra one.

It'll work itself out, you know?

Yeah, it's the whole damn hero complex, I get it.

[He's too young, Sam thinks, and if Tony weren't about to snap as it is, Sam would probably yell at him for bringing a fucking kid into everything. But it's not like anyone else around here thinks things through, so really, Peter fits right in with the rest of the Avengers.

But the thing is, Sam's seen stupid kids run into shit - kids only a few years older than Peter in Afghanistan, thinking they're doing the right thing, just following instincts instead of thinking things through. It makes Sam's stomach twist with worry, because, shit, the kid's not a super-soldier or a guy in a metal suit, he's just a teenager from Queens.]

Stark's really done a number on your head.

I like the odds of 'maybe' more than 'definitely'.

[He cracks wise a little, because it's a great way of combating slow-festing anxiety. Just like real life! If there's anything he can forcefully convey through his alter ego, it's a sense of (albeit crumbled) confidence in being a Little Shit. But gosh, he wishes he could see what the kid actually looks like (he's definitely a 'kid', too).]

Hey, hey, watch the jugular.

[Another useless swallow that doesn't quite work.]

So — what's your thing? You've got a sweet hero name?

[He laughs, surprisingly jaded.]

Don't worry, plenty of other stuff's done a number, too.

[Like watching your uncle die because you didn't do a damn thing. And now people are gonna get kidnapped by these guys who tried to kidnap him, all because he didn't stop them? It's bogus, is what.]

... It's not like I wasn't already doing this when Mr. Stark came along, I mean.

He just found me, right time, right place.

[The suit really helps the gig. But he'd do it with or without the suit, no contest.]

How do you think I found him in the first place?

[It comes from somewhere behind Sam, because yeah. Guess who's listening. And Tony's clearly aiming for something dry, but there's a slight waver to his voice that doesn't quite get there.]

If you haven't already found someone to take care of it, swing by and I'll take a look.

[Is he going to do some engineering right there in his hospital bed? You bet.]

[His face is as red as the suit beneath it. So. That's something.]

M—Mr. Stark, no, no, you should be resting. [HAS HE REALLY BEEN JUST SITTING BEHIND YOU SAM HOW COULD YOU BETRAY ME LIKE THIS????] I'm totally fine, and I'll definitely get it handled, so like — don't even sweat it. You're so not doing lab work from bedrest, c'mon.

[Sam makes some belated beatboxing noises for the sake of it, like he's pretending he's got Peter's back.]

Swing by anyway and I'll buy you a nice dinner in the hospital cafeteria. All the pudding you can eat, on me.

[And maybe he and Tony can keep the kid from sneaking out-

Okay, maybe Sam can try to keep Peter and Tony from sneaking out.

Hahahahahaha.]

You just hit a light pole.

[And you most definitely do not have this even remotely under control, Person-in-a-Weird-Mask-Trying-to-be-Cool. Wanda gives him the same Look she'd give Pietro when he'd try (and fail) to convince her that he was fine.]

You aren't a problem, and if no one else can take that off you, I will. [Gently:] You've done enough.

[He straightens up just enough to give him a look from over Sam's shoulder. You had better be fine, Peter.]

Fine. But let me take a look at it once it's off?

»Tt«. Head back, keep still. ( snarky comments are something he'd usually give back just as hard, but he's working right now, and not the be a good distraction kind of working. no, robin keeps his eyes down on the collar, pulls a few pins out of his sleeve and starts working at the opening, leaning in a bit closer to hone his ears in in the sound of metal clinking against metal.

a normal lock would take him mere moments. this one takes a bit longer, but from the way it's loosening a bit--he is getting it. )

Robin. My thing is being better than some idiot in tights who manages to get stuck in a power-inhibiting collar.

... I mean, that's not really resting...

[He's probably gonna bring it to you anyway. But like, he's just saying.]

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Video. Burner Phone: Spider-Man. | hhhEEELP

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