Post by Spider-Man on May 13, 2006 22:06:43 GMT
Peter stood atop a small Laundromat, looking out at the city. For someone who stood on the top of skyscrapers on a pretty much daily basis, the view from this small, brown building was somewhat less than inspiring. In fact, the most majestic city in the world looked somewhat scrubby from this vantage point. Opening up the small bag he had with him, Peter looked down and grinned. A freshly washed Spidey suit looked back up at him. Nothing like clean clothes to start out a nightly patrol, he pulled the suit out, careful to not be seen. Pulling them on he let out a sigh, Fabric softener, you are my hero!
Clicking his web shooters into place and making sure they were fully stocked, Peter pulled on his gloves and slipped his mask over his head. With a wide, jovial grin, Peter took a few strong, fast steps before leaping off the building as far as he could. Firing a webline towards a much taller building, he pulled as hard as he could, rocketing himself into the sky. The feel of the wind through his mask was amazing, a feeling he couldn’t go a full day without experiencing. Climbing ever higher as he swung from building to building, Peter eventually reached one of his favorite vantage points. Releasing his current strand of webbing, he fell into a simple spinning back flip. Straightening his body, Peter took control of his freefalling form, landing deftly on the head of a large stone gargoyle. He quickly crawled to another position, so he was dangling upside down, holding onto the building with just his fingers and toes.
“How ya doin there, Bruce?” he asked the gargoyle. He’d named it a long time ago, it helped to have a friend he could tell everything too without fear. Bruce wouldn’t judge him, wouldn’t tell anyone his secrets, and probably wouldn’t get thrown off of a bridge by a crazed billionaire either.
“I tell ya, Bruce, old buddy… People just don’t appreciate the value of a good listener like you anymore.”
Clicking his web shooters into place and making sure they were fully stocked, Peter pulled on his gloves and slipped his mask over his head. With a wide, jovial grin, Peter took a few strong, fast steps before leaping off the building as far as he could. Firing a webline towards a much taller building, he pulled as hard as he could, rocketing himself into the sky. The feel of the wind through his mask was amazing, a feeling he couldn’t go a full day without experiencing. Climbing ever higher as he swung from building to building, Peter eventually reached one of his favorite vantage points. Releasing his current strand of webbing, he fell into a simple spinning back flip. Straightening his body, Peter took control of his freefalling form, landing deftly on the head of a large stone gargoyle. He quickly crawled to another position, so he was dangling upside down, holding onto the building with just his fingers and toes.
“How ya doin there, Bruce?” he asked the gargoyle. He’d named it a long time ago, it helped to have a friend he could tell everything too without fear. Bruce wouldn’t judge him, wouldn’t tell anyone his secrets, and probably wouldn’t get thrown off of a bridge by a crazed billionaire either.
“I tell ya, Bruce, old buddy… People just don’t appreciate the value of a good listener like you anymore.”