Encapsulate
Peter’s frustration has been rising. Since Monday, he’s been dealing with break-in attempts, the occasional drug bust, even a shoot out between the NYPD and some of ‘The Roses’. Apparently, they are a new faction, a new criminal organisation that has been taking over the shadows that Fisk used to cast.
But that’s not what’s been frustrating Peter. No, it’s the fact that no one has found out anything about this Black Cat girl. It doesn’t help that the one person who might know something is dead. Prowler. Or at least the previous Prowler. AKA, Aaron Davis. From what Ganke told Peter, it was kind of the defining moment of Miles' career as Spider-Man.
“Peter, are you listening?” Mrs. Winterhalter asks over the online class call.
“Sorry, I was just talking to my Aunt. Could you please repeat the question?”
“This is why I said we should just take time out of the summer break instead of continuing teaching,” the teacher mumbles, clearly not realising that the video call amplified her muttering, “I was asking when you should use a colon or semi-colon.”
“Oh, right. Well, colons are used to separate a general statement from the following specifics, whilst semicolons are used to connect two complete sentences instead of and, or, but, yet or while.”
“Very good. Please refrain from talking to your guardians unless it’s urgent. That or please notify me.”
“Understood, Mrs. Winterhalter.”
“Alright, then let's get back to the lesson-”
Peter stops listening. His mind is already returning to the frustration behind the disappearance of Black Cat. It doesn’t help that the last three days have been the same thing on repeat. In fact, Peter is starting to think that Ganke is deliberately keeping him away from high-profile cases. Like the Defenders taking down Scorpion and his gang. Sure, Peter might have had some difficulty with taking them down, but he could have learnt!
But he gets it. There are actually people who can act as a support network for him. People who’ll teach him the ropes. It’s just frustrating that he has to wait for Miles to be ready. Wouldn’t Daredevil be just as good of a teacher for him? Then again, that means Peter would have to be in Hell’s Kitchen. Or that he’d have two teachers. I mean, it would depend on which of the Daredevils decided to take him under their wing.
He’s getting sidetracked. Plus, the class is ending, which means… It’s Arachkid time. Waiting for the last ticking seconds of class to finish, Peter taps his foot impatiently, saying his farewell and clicking the receiver. Leaping to his feet, Peter opens the door to his room, pausing at the top of the stairs.
“-I just don’t know how we can keep paying, May.”
“It’s okay, Ben. I can pick up extra shifts, and you can-”
“I know, I know. I’ll have to look for something else. PI work just isn’t paying like it used to.”
“It’s a sign of the time, dear, we can still-” May pauses her sentence, the soft creak of wood under Peter’s feet pausing their conversation. Silently cursing the floorboards, Peter continues walking down the stairs, trying to keep the same steady rhythm.
“Hey! I’m done with school, so I was planning on going out to see if I can get any pictures of that new Arachkid. I’ll be back for dinner!”
“Alright, dear. Be back by seven.”
Peter nods, grabbing his keys from the table, his eyes wandering across the floral-patterned surface. The distinct outline of a red warning on a letter being discreetly covered by Ben as he coughs catches his eyes. Rent. Of course, it’s rent. That or any number of other bills. Electrical, Water, Gas. There are so many things that they need to pay for.
“I will!”
“Don’t get into any trouble, Pete.”
Putting on a fake smile, he nods, turning towards the door. Twisting the door handle, he pushes through the door, ignoring the stinging in the back of his head at the thoughts of how to solve the money issue.
Threatening or hurting people is wrong. It’s not responsible, and putting on a mask isn’t something that lets you be accountable for your actions. No. Peter can’t help right now. But there’s someone he can talk to that might be able to help him.
Walking slowly towards the Forest Hill Stadium, eyes tracing the screaming and bustling construction site that used to be Midtown High. The scent of burning gasoline and freshly turned mud floods his nose as he scans the construction equipment. Bright yellow cranes. Well, they used to be. Now, it’s like a blinding array of yellow hues, a neon glow where the light strikes that fragments into numerous shades Peter can hardly explain. If someone else could see this array, it would be dizzying, or at least that’s what he believes. His mind is keeping up because of the ‘additional’ brains.
Looking around the road as he arrives at his destination, the boy leaps, quietly sneaking up to where he hid his bag, reaching inside and pulling out his suit. Well, one of them. After the first day of patrol, Ganke had made… actually, Peter doesn’t know how many versions of his suit. Whenever he’s done with patrol, Ganke tells him to go back to Octavius Industries and drop off his suit for repairs and cleaning.
Sighing as he double checks his surroundings before climbing onto the ceiling of the building, Peter pulls on the costume, shoving his regular clothes into the backpack and slinging it over his shoulder. Flicking out his wrist, Peter pulls himself across the gap between the buildings, running across the rooftop and leaping onto the highrise as he sighs.
“Hey, Ganke. How are you doing? I wanna go see JJ about something. What’s the quickest way?”
“Yo! I’m good, I’m good. Had a little bit of a setback today. I’ll probably be working overtime. If you’re in suit… Catch a lift on the back of the rail, I guess? Although you’ll probably have a better bet inside of it.”
“And if I was able to swing…”
“It would be like ten minutes. Don’t worry. Miles is almost back at full power, so he’ll get you trained up in all those basics.”
“It’s about time.”
“Eh, you’ll learn as you get older. It becomes a lot harder to pace yourself so you don’t run out of stamina. Oh. Just got a request. I’ll pin it for you once you’re done talking to JJ.”
“Nice. I’m almost at the metro. I’ll let you know when we can start with that request.”
“Cool, cool.”
Peter clicks off the earpiece, grumbling. He realises he probably didn’t need to change, and he quickly switches back to his civilian clothes. He flips down into the alleyway, zipping up the backpack as he walks towards the metro entrance, inserting his fare. He pushes into the surprisingly on-time metro as he plunks down into an empty seat.
It’s better than riding the metro as Arachkid, right? Honestly, this is one of the things that he needs Miles' input on. Just how much time should he spend in the suit? Who should he tell? Well, that one Ganke said depends on the risk. He mentioned that it would be better to tell May and Ben about it after Miles is better. It would help to have Spider-Man present to explain everything.
“Roughly twenty-three minutes… I guess I could get in some homework whilst I wait.”
Pulling out his phone, Peter clicks his finger across the broken screen of the device. Flicking his eyes across the screen, Peter hums to himself, working on his homework as the rattle of the train car beneath him lulls its way through the city.
He jumps out of the train and into the bustling station. The boy cuts his way through the crowd, looking for a quiet and empty alleyway. Clicking his tongue, Peter walks into one of the alleyways, nodding to the pair of men huddled around a fire as he leaps up, climbing up a fire escape to get to the roof. It’ll be quicker to get there from the rooftops.
Stretching into the suit, he hops on his feet before running for the edge of the building, leaping between the gaps of the roads. He spins as he runs along the edge of taller buildings and back onto the roof of the buildings that line 2nd Avenue. His momentum carries him forward, fists light underneath him as he heads towards the Daily Bugle. The faint chattering of the people and cars below, whistling past him, like the Fisk Construction sites.
Landing on the top of the building, Peter quickly switches out of his clothes again, sighing at the repetition of the motion, but it’s definitely the quickest and most effective option. At least until he can swing through the city.
Pushing into the rooftop entrance to the Bugle, he looks at the elevator, shaking his head as he imagines the questions he’d get if someone realized he came from the rooftop. No, the stairs will do. Hopping down the stairs in bursts of twos, Peter stops outside the door to the Daily Bugle, standing up straight as he goes through the mental checklist in his head.
“Hi, Mr. Jameson. I was wondering if… No, that won’t work. What about… Hi, Mr. Jameson. Do you have any jobs I could apply for? Thats… not right either… why is this so-”
“Peter?” a man says, opening the door to the Bugle’s office. Robby Robertson looks at the boy, his eyebrow raised as he looks at the shocked face of the boy.
“Oh, hey, Robby… I was just… I was going through how to ask JJ about something.”
“I see… Well, I can tell you this. JJ has a soft spot for you, kid. Helps that you’re one of the better freelance photographers in the city, but I’m pretty sure the main reason he likes you is that he sees himself in you. Just be honest.”
“Right. Confidence then?”
“Confidence,” the tall man says, smiling as he shoots finger guns at Peter and walks towards the elevator, the door pinging open as he steps into the door.
Breathing out and puffing out his chest, he pushes open the door to the office. The usually bustling office is unnaturally quiet, the faint clicking of keyboards and hum of printers the only noise in the room. Gulping as he walks through the silence towards Jameson’s office, Peter fumbles with his hands, about to knock when the door swings open.
“Parker?! Ah, I see you’re feeling better. Can I help you?”
“Oh, uh… Could we talk in your office?” Peter asks, feeling the eyes of some of the editors turning to glance at him.
“Of course. Come in.”
Following the older man back into his office, Peter sits opposite the man's desk. Placing his backpack on the ground under his chair, he mentally chides himself for not being able to look at the man.
“So, how can I help you, Parker? Is it photos?”
“Um, maybe. I… My Aunt and Uncle are having some struggles with bills and…” Peter breathes in, looking into the man's eyes. Confidence, he reminds himself, “Mr. Jameson. I remember you telling me to ask for help when I need it, so this is me asking for help.”
“I see… Whilst it warms my heart to know you’re taking my advice seriously, I can’t just give out charity for nothing.”
“I understand that, Mr. Jameson. I’m asking if there's anything I can do to earn some more money.”
“Hmm… All right, Parker. You’re the smart type, correct? Can you make me an app for the Daily Bugle?”
“An app?”
“Yes, Parker. Robby has convinced me that it would be good to have. It can reach a wider audience, and I can even start a podcast with it. So, can you do it?”
“I…” Peter looks down, mind racing as he starts mapping it out in his mind, “Yes. I’ll need to know what you want in the app, though.”
“I’ll have my secretary send that and the amount you’ll be paid to you,” Triple-J responds, pulling out a cigarette nd puffing on it, “Same email as normal?”
“Yes. Thank you for this opportunity, Mr. Jameson.”
“Well, you’ve earned it with all your hard work for me so far. You’re free to leave.”
Standing up and shaking the man's calloused hand as he reaches for his bag. Peter waves, skipping out of the office. A job. He has a job. Hopefully, this can help with the bills until Ben and May can get back on their feet.
Climbing onto the rooftop and back into his suit, Peter looks over the bright skyline of New York, desperately wanting to swing. Hopping to the edge of the building, the boy looks over the edge, eyes tracing an imaginary line as he raises his wrist. It can’t be that bad, righ-
“You’re done talking to JJ?” Ganke’s voice rings out, Peter tripping and sticking to the edge of the Bugles rooftop, “Great timing. That request I was telling you about? It’s some kind of nuisance by the sounds of things. A man calling himself ‘The Beetle’ is ‘attacking’ random stores across Koreatown. Something about wanting to make a name for himself? Guy sounds a bit like Gambit.”
“Okay… and if he’s a beetle, shouldn’t he be able to fly?”
“Yeah, this one might be a bit of a challenge, but I think you’ve got this.”
“Right… Why hasn’t anyone else done anything about him?”
“Because everyone is out doing their day jobs or off-world, and he’s not actually causing any problems. More like he's having a temper tantrum.”
“So, I’m babysitting?”
“Yeap. You in?”
Groaning, Peter sees the ping of the address near the EST as he leaps forward, “On it.”
Leaping through the city, he listens to the unusually calm civilians as they stop and marvel at the slick… Purple and Green. Of course, this guy has a Prowler colour scheme. That makes this even better.
“Hey, Ganke. Any chance this dude is related to Prowler?”
“No clue. Thought you’d want to ask him in person.”
Humming in appreciation, Peter leaps across the rooftops, landing above the building as he looks down at ‘The Beetle’. The name is appropriate. Definitely. Now, how should he do this? It’s jam-packed with people and the guy is just standing around in the middle, basking in the attention that he’s receiving.
Honestly, he might not be a bad guy, but the whole ‘wanting to fight someone’ deal is kind of a problem. Accountability would be… Not damagin the shops or people. How can Peter do that? Make a web. Trap him. Encapsulate him in a cocoon he can’t escape out of. One that Peter can also clean up quickly.
Tilting his head, Peter begins firing webs across the narrow street, weaving a web between the walls and street. A web-net. It… could use some work and probably isn’t viable every time, but it’s good if you can get the drop on a villain… probably. Firing the last webs, Peter hangs down, tapping the man on the shoulder as he talks to the Korean women surrounding him.
“Hey, there, big purple and green beetle-looking dude. I heard you’ve been looking for a fight? I hope you people eaters don’t mind arachnid-flavoured humans.”
“Huh?! Spider-... wait. You’re not Spider-... oh, shi-”
Latching a web over the man's mouth, Peter motions for the people to leave as he lands on the floor.
“Language! Besides. If you’re panicking about being plastered on the web, it’s a bit late with all the phone calls about you.”
“Look, kid-”
“It’s Arachkid.”
“Whatever! I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but I’m not someone to be messed with.”
“I can tell,” Peter responds blankly, looking at the numerous undamaged shops, “The fact that no one is running and screaming makes me think otherwise, though.”
“I… Dammit…”
Watching as the man grits his teeth and reaches into his pockets, Peter’s eyes narrow. His ‘Spider-Sense’ isn’t going off but… what’s this feeling? Like… No. Don’t analyze it. You’re missing the chance.
The
single
thread…
Peter blinks. Looking around, he sees the web he weaved around the Beetle gone. His hand is heavy. A bundle of webs… The Beetle. But how did he…? Peter’s mind races as he hefts the man up, noticing the struggle stop as he’s raised to eye level with the boy.
“Peter? Peter, are you okay? Your heart rate spiked!” Ganke’s voice calls out across the line, snapping Peter out of his confusion.
“Yeah, yeah. I just… We’ll talk later. I’ve got The Beetle, but the guy didn’t really do anything wrong, so I don’t know what to do with him.”
“The stores?”
“More like a mascot. He just tried provoking New York's heroes by doing a bunch of different things, I’m pretty sure. Mainly asking people to report that there's a guy attacking Koreatown.”
“Okay, I’ll let you question him.”
Plopping the man down as he hears the static of the earpiece turning off again, Peter sits across from him, eyes looking over the complex armour. He nods, taking in the design.
“How’d cha do that?”
“Do what?”
“That whole… Acrobatic routine. It was like you could tell exactly where the weak points in my suit are.”
“I… don’t know. I’m kind of new to this whole thing.”
“Which is also probably why I haven’t heard about you. Great. Some no-name hero. No fame for me.”
“Why are you doing this? To live up to the Prowler’s name? Are you one of the people he trained?”
“No! God, is that what you’re thinking? I… I’m just sick of being passed up for things that should be mine.”
“And this is how you can get them?”
“It’s how I can get recognition.”
“Dude, you could have just looked for another job. You’re, what, an engineer? I’m sure there's loads of companies out there that would hire you.”
“It’s not about that! I just want to be respected! So, I was going to show-”
“The power of your tech… I can understand that… Anyways, I need to figure out what to do with you now,” Peter mutters, thinking as he comes up with an idea, “And I might have something for you.”
“Oh, yeah? Prison?”
“No. A job where you can change the world.” Clicking on the earpiece, Peter smiles beneath his mask, walking far enough away to be out of earshot of the webbed-up man, “Ganke. What do you think Doctor Octavius would say to hiring another engineer?”
“I think that Otto would appreciate someone else that can help him with the technical stuff, especially if they can bring their own gear we can produce and sell.”
“Want me to bring the Beetle in for an interview?”
“Let me check. Just start bringing him this way anyway.”
Nodding, Peter turns around, grabbing the bundle that contains the Beetle as he smiles down at the man. Shaking him as he plans out the route to Octavius Industries.
“It’s your lucky day! I’ve found someone that might hire you to change the world like I said.”
“Then are you letting me go?”
“Not so fast. I’m going to carry you there so you can’t cause any problems for the nice people we’re going to see.”
“Great…”
Smirking under the mask, Peter hefts the man onto his back, looking across the rooftops. He leaps, the terrified shrieks of the man strapped to his back music to his ears as he travels across the rooftops, the blurring sunlight from the windows a pale glare.
The familiar roads of Greenwich Village come into focus, and Peter begins slowing down, carefully making his way onto the rooftop of the building. Waiting for his mask to give him the green light, he carefully unwraps the Beetle, making sure that his wings and hands are still bound. A ping followed by a thumbs up in his mask lets him know he can take the man down.
“Alright, Mr. Beetle. Looks like we’re all set to go. Come on.”
“Oh. But I don’t even have my-”
“Trust me. The doctor will prefer the suit you’re wearing.”
“I… Okay.”
Walking down the stairs into Octavius Industries, Peter knocks on the door, seeing Ganke yank it open. Peering around the corner, Doctor Octavius looks over the Beetle’s suit, nodding his head as he beckons the man inside.
“Thank you for bringing Mr…”
“It’s Jenkins, Doctor. Abner Jenkins, but my friends call me Abe.”
“Right, Mr. Jenkins and his unique talents to my attention, Arachkid. Ganke and myself can handle it from here.”
“Cool! Just, don’t touch the webs with your bare hands. There’s a neurotoxin on them. Alright, peace!”
Running up the stairs back to the rooftop, Peter changes into his civilian clothes. With all of this going on, Peter’s not going to be able to do anything. Well, he could, but that wouldn’t be very responsible, and if something bad happened, he would have no one to help keep him accountable. No. With Beetle dealt with and Ganke busy, Peter should go home.
Besides, he has a news app to make for Mr. Jameson.