quipsandthwips | [PSL] The Vinsmokes vs. Spider-Man

[PSL] The Vinsmokes vs. Spider-Man

[Peter Parker is doing fine.

Let him re-phase that: he's adapted and adjusted accordingly. Look, it hasn't been easy. Deciding to remain friends with MJ and still finding himself without an actual job or home to speak of doesn't beat losing both his mentor and his last surviving family member. There are empty spaces in his life that he tries not to linger on too long — but god, he misses May's smile, her voice, her kindnesses. It had taken so long to accept Ben's death... and now it's, just... it's hard. It's easier to just be Spider-Man for a while.

Crime doesn't sleep, after all. So yeah, homeless. That's no biggie. He's been there before. He mainly just works at FEAST with the homeless (he relates, and the new head honcho Miriam knew Peter was on the streets somehow, so he makes his keep there by volunteering. He, um. He gets to sleep in May's old office. It's... nice. There are still pictures and stuff hanging up that nobody had dared move.

So he's only sort of homeless now.

Anyway. Not important. What is important is keeping tabs on the villain activity around here. With most of the villains locked up aboard the Raft (not gonna even think about Dr. Octavius right now, because it still hurts too much), it's mainly these little obnoxious crime families and gangs; Kingpin had been the leader of all the gang activity before his arrest. And now it's this crime family. The Vinsmokes. Hard to get them arrested, and they've got so many secret strings being pulled all over. It makes for a real pain in the ass to deal with. He hasn't gotten a chance to catch the head honcho with anything criminal yet, but boy oh boy has he busted soooo many drug deals, weapons manufacturing, stolen goods deals — and so on.

Most of the grunts are easy-peasy. The literal family are all a bunch of super-powered heathens like him. Cool. He's gotten, like, three of them locked up on the Raft... only to have them somehow bought out, or released for shoddy police work, or something or another. Now there's just one locked up, but it's only a matter of time before Daddy Vinsmoke does his magic.

Ugh. He hates it.

2:30 a.m., and he's down by the docks and sticking against a nearby wall as fake money exchanges hands.]

Hey, do those work on any vending machine?

I'm dying for a bag of Doritos right about now.

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[Well, this could be the day I die.

He carefully closes and locks the door behind him.

Sanji's not a bad person, that much Peter's gathered, but he's also very much noticed that when Sanji's worked up — well, sometimes he can't control the literal fiery burst of emotion that comes out of him. He's had a few blistered fingers to prove as much.

Buuut he has spider sense, not common sense, so he walks over without fear.]

Hey — Sandy? What happened?

[His voice is low and kind, sweat forming on his brow from the heat as he reaches out to put a hand on the man's unmoving shoulder.]

[Wow Pete, it's like you don't trust the dangerous mafia man seated on your floor to avoid bursting into flames.

In reality, Sanji's reaction is minimal, sluggish ... rather underwhelming. As if sensing the hand reaching out for him, he'll shift to shy away from it, but not so much that Peter can't touch him anyway. The heat from his body spikes before forcibly snuffing itself into a cooler temperature -- unless he maintains it, though, the room isn't going to feel hospitable.

Whatever is wrong, it's not unlike the last time this happened. He's not looking to take the building down with him. He's not looking to take a bystander down with him, either.

Looking up from his folded arms, however... the foggy glaze in Sanji's visible eye doesn't suggest the man is very lucid. He barely looks like he recognizes Peter at all.]

[-- Oh right.

Peter's got about a second before Sanji's hand darts out to grab him by the throat, by the way]

[The concern is hardly going anywhere. He looks drugged.

This is bad, badbadbad. A sliver of low simmering anger prickles up his spine. What happened?

It's something to really think about, that Sanji doesn't set off his spider sense.

When the heck did that happen, huh? Mysterious. But he sure could have used the heads up, before a hand darts out and grabs him by the throat — which hurts, actually, and he has to do everything in his power not to reflexively start a fight here and now. He's Peter Parker, not Spider-Man. He's just some normal 'shitty punk' or whatever Sanji'd call him, a civilian with no fighting credentials, and definitely not someone parallel to Sanji's insane strength and endurance.

So he just grips Sanji's sleeve and hopes the guy doesn't get too close to choking him out.

... Gonna probably leave a mark, though.

His voice is gritty and strained, as he speaks in a quiet voice:]

San — Alessandro. Hey, it's me.

[Gis other hand is softly pressed over the one around his throat.

He's calm, for someone getting a little strangled at the moment.]

You're — hurting me, man.

[The hand doesn't loosen.

-- It doesn't tighten, either, so thank God for small favors today. Peter's allowed just enough room to breathe while Sanji stares at him, still peering tiredly over his arm, a stare lacking in calculation or self-awareness. He might as well be in a different planet for all he seems to notice that he's choking his friend.

But so long as Peter doesn't make any sudden moves, the hand will loosen in regular increments, until the fingers no longer dig into Peter's neck with an iron grip. Pretty lucky so far, Mr. Nice Guy. What are you going to do next?]

[... Jesus. Well, he'll just ignore whatever pain he's feeling in his neck, breathing sharply in and recollecting his bearings. He carefully looks the man over for any injuries without getting handsy, frowning deeply at the lack of reaction. Shit. This is bad, really bad.]

... Sandy, hey. You know I'm not gonna hurt you, right?

Do you know where you are?

[He doesn't loosen his hand from the one lingering at his neck.

More to comfort than anything. He hardly cares for his own well-being, you know?

Not really his thing.]

[Most of Sanji's body is covered, save for what Peter can see of his face and the hand gripped around his neck. It's the latter in particular that's half-scarred in burns -- par for the course with Sanji, and whatever weird relationship he has with his fire powers. Who knows what the rest of him looks like underneath those clothes.

The first question garters no reaction. The second one -- well, that's a good one, and even though Sanji's only vaguely aware of his surroundings, it's the question that manages to lodge itself in his brain for further consideration. His eyebrow dips, narrows.

Yeah... where is he, exactly?

For the first time, Sanji actually looks, both at Peter and then the room. The focus it takes quells the other voice in his head, that would urge his hand to tighten again and crush whoever's windpipe is in his fist. The one he's been working on ignoring for forever, it feels like.

Muttering drearily, like he's speaking through mud:]

Where... am I...?

You're in FEAST. It's a homeless shelter you've been volunteering at.

[He says it with confidence, because it sounds like that's something Sanji's needing right about now. He smiles a little at the guy, strained but kind. His throat aches a little as he swallows.]

What's my name?

The dashing, good-looking guy you work with. The one you totally think is the coolest ever.

... Wha? Bullshit.

[Eyebrows knitting in immediate suspicion. Great job, Peter. Even drugged out of his mind, Sanji will never fall for that.

The name "FEAST" rings a few bells at least. That means safety, means he can relax a notch until he's able to think through the cobwebs.

The hand comes entirely away from Peter's throat as he surveys the room again]

... Peter?

[Not sounding 100% confident in that guess, but his voice is gaining strength. He rubs at his temple]

Y-yeah. Peter. Pete. Shithead. One of those.

[His hand moves to massage his throat in relief, but he keeps that easy smile — the one he's learned how to use with apt skill, to coax people into letting their guard down for Peter Parker, May's nerdy but decent nephew.]

What's going on, man? You're really out of it. And it's... really uncomfortably hot in here, so if we could get you to the couch and dial it down a few degrees...?

... Nn.

[By couch, Peter means the window, right?

Because that's... where Sanji is headed, suddenly, once something that looks like recognition flashes in his eyes at last. He'll about slam into the wall if Peter doesn't stop him, coordination is not his strong point today, but will absolutely start fighting the sliding glass to get it open.

Aaaaand stick his head out.

... Aaaaand try to crawl out of it, second floor building be damned, apparently.]

... 'm leaving.

[This is clearly the time to get a chef wrangled properly, so he's just gonna rush over and make an effort to close that window and nudge Sanji (kindly) toward the sofa. And all the while, he's rambling:]

Heeeyheyheyhey, wait, wait — No, don't. Sa — Sandy, you're not in any shape to be moving around. Let's at least give you some time to get your head back out of the clouds, yeah? Besides, people are gonna be really confused when they see you hanging out a window outside; you're gonna attract trouble!

[Is this working? Yes, no??? Please don't.]

Dumbass, I can fly.

[That sure is something you casually admit to your one and only friend while roofied out of your damned mind. But he'll go, reluctantly, probably digging his feet into the floor the entire way]

[... H'ooookay, we're gonna just blame whatever's in your veins for that bluntness.

Anyway. He's gonna just keep pushing him to the sofa, and coaxing him to rest — to let the effects fade over time, and to get water into him. No problemo. Totally got this under control. Once Sanji is drug-free (big question mark goes here, Pete), he can get a little more reasonable of a grasp on the situation. Instead of Sanji having a grasp on his neck, that is. After a moment to make sure resting is happening and the room isn't gonna go up into flames, he moves downstairs to get more water —

Celeste pulls him aside, looking concerned.

"Someone weird guy's out front, and he wants to talk to you." Which is just great, because he really doesn't have time for this...! So off he goes, making the detour, something about Celeste's expression concerning him a little (and Marcos offers to join him, just to look big and tough and ready to leap into trouble, but he shoos him off).

It all makes sense when he gets outside, finding some guy in a suit — probable mafia type.

Blue-haired and also sporting a familiar curling eyebrow.

A Vinsmoke kid.

Not good.]

Uhhh. How can I help you, sir?

["Oh, you know. Just looking for someone... You seen a guy with blonde hair around here? Curly eyebrow? Blue eyes?" There's something almost predatory in the fake-ass manners he's demonstrating, and if Peter hadn't already felt his hackles rise at the description, he would've reacted even more poorly to the fake politeness.]

... Sorry, I don't think it's ringing a bell for me.

["Oh, really?" The man's hand ends up slapping the wall next to Peter's head, capturing Peter between him and the brick of the FEAST center. Peter just glowers at him where his face sits inches from his, a sort of knowing grin curling the man's lips. Niji, he thinks he remembers. "Because I've heard you and he went on a cute little date recently. How was the pizza?"

Okay — not proof that they know where Sanji works.

But also proof they're good at hunting down anyone Sanji's been with.

Peter doesn't budge.

"Peter Parker, right? Age 23, born August 10th. Attended Empire State University, worked with Doctor Otto Octavius on neural interfaces. Word of warning: you should watch out what pathetic friends you make around here; lowly or not, I'd hate for a mind like yours to end up in cement on a riverbed."]

... Not my idea of a good time.

[Grimly said, gaze still firmly latched in defiance. The smallest trickle of electricity dances up his arm, near Peter's cheek, as the man's lips twitch in annoyance. He eventually just scoffs as if the entire situation really isn't worth the trouble or effort, instead looking down Peter's person, at his thrift store flannel and ripped jeans. He plucks at the collar, once. "... You poor, filthy commoners really are a pain. You really don't know your place in this dirty city."

He pushes off the wall and starts off down the steps.

Peter lets out a breath and watches him walk away.]

...

Well, that's trouble waiting to happen.

[Note to self: find this guy as Spider-Man, and kick him in the junk.]

Edited 2019-03-31 09:37 (UTC)

[Niji lacks the cold efficiency of his older brother, who would have tried to shot Peter for the sport of it, and he isn't as stupid to make a ruckus like Yonji would -- so really, Peter lucked out by meeting the Vinsmoke who gets bored when things don't go his way.

Now he gets to deal with the blond, roofied one still in his office, who has long since escaped the couch and is right by the window again. Which is open, whoops. At least this time Sanji's torso isn't hanging out of it. Instead he sits with his knees back up to his chin, enjoying the cooler breeze that rolls into the room.

He barely moves when Peter opens the door. Only a brief spike in temperature, like a poisonous animal flashing a warning at the enemy, but it settles down quickly once Sanji peeks over his arm and sees who has returned.]

... What?

[Where the hell did you disappear to?]

[Peter comes back with a mildly concerned and distant expression — a look of grim focus unlike the usual — and then just as quickly is smoothed out as he looks to Sanji with a slight smile. No reason to freak Sanji out more than he already is, right? He probably hates his brothers, if how he's found him before is anything to go by. Or if... how the guy spoke was anything to go by. Don't think he didn't catch the malice that floated around, even when they weren't too specifically talking about Sanji.

He moves to sit down next to Sanji, pulling his legs up to join in on the huddling.]

What, what?

Am I interrupting something, Miss Priss?

I can set you on fire, bastard.

[Pulling his knees closer to his head, making a pillow out of them, and very obviously not making good on his threat. His eyes sweep over Peter a couple of times, but the haze still turns his vision to water. Hard to see anything out of place when he's this exhausted.]

Oi... you got your phone on ya? I need to borrow it.

[Sanji's missing his -- an outdated flip phone that's probably as old as they are -- and he pats at his pocket to emphasize the point]

Not making any shitty calls, just gotta check something.

Awww, you like me too much to charbroil me.

[He flashes a little smile, which only flounders a little at the request.

His phone...? For what...? Well, it's not like he has anything damning on there.]

Uh - sure! What're you checking on?

[Here. Just. Don't break it. Not that he'd blame him; he still seems kind of out of it, so... hell, he's just happy he's not making the room eternally hot anymore. His throat already hurts enough without it — and the fast healing's already helping to turn those spots into purple smudges on his neck.]

[Sanji doesn't answer, and he doesn't get far on Peter's phone, either. All he does is turn it on, pretends he doesn't see a message from some person named MJ asking how Pete's managing because that's not his business, and scans his eyes across the top, where the date and time are.

... Three days, huh.

Shit.]

Wanted to check the time. [The phone is tossed back into Peter's hands before Sanji abruptly stands. Unlike before, his footing remains even this time. The fog's starting to clear from his mind and body.]

... Oi, sorry to duck and run, but I gotta get going.

Hey, wait a sec!

[He puts a hand on Sanji's shoulder — certainly something he wouldn't have had much success with back when the guy first walked through their doors, that's for sure — and looks at him with those stupid doe-eyes.]

I'm worried about you, man. You can't just... come stumbling into my room and then vanish on me. What happened? At least rest a little longer? You're safe here, remember? This place is on your side.

[And that's exactly the problem.

People and places on Sanji's side? They tend to disappear real fuckin' quick when his brothers are bored. The haziness that's followed him for three days has already sharpened into a guillotine. Staying here isn't safe for anyone.

... But he doesn't buck the hand off his shoulder like he wants to. Like he should. His mouth curves into a stiff line of frustration]

I--

[god fuckin damn it, racking a hand through his hair and hissing through his teeth]

It's not safe, alright? You're not safe. I don't -- [Feeling heat rise in his chest and he shoves it down, tries to keep his body's temperature consistent]

I don't remember anything.

[... Well, that doesn't bode well.]

What do you remember? Why isn't it safe?

C'mon, you know me. I've been in some bad situations here and there, too.

[You can trust me, is what he says without saying it.]

[He remembers details he's not about to tell Peter, that's for certain. Being dragged into his father's private lab the moment he'd returned from his trip with Peter, ears filled with Niji's vindictive laughter, goading Sanji on because they both know the rules. And it had hurt this time, seared like fire, whatever shit had been pumped into his veins.

No, Peter doesn't need to know any of it. And drawing that line in the sand.... well, that helps to steady him somewhat.]

I don't remember the last three days.

[That's all he's willing to divulge, it seems, hand slipping out of his hair.] Forget it, this is a ... a family matter.

[Spearing Peter with a look] Which means it's none of your shitty business and I don't want you sticking your--

[He stops short, tongue getting stuck to the roof of his mouth. His eyes tick down by an inch and stay there.

Sanji's staring at Peter's neck]

Oi...

[Honestly, he'd been too distracted worrying about Sanji to consider the guy would take note of the marks on his neck — he was so hazy before, so out of it, he figured maybe he could just avoid the topic altogether. His hand moves to his neck only fleetingly, before he opts to touch Sanji's bicep supportively instead.

Really, he's Spider-Man. This is nothing, just another day ending in Y.

Of course, Sandy doesn't know that. Can't understand how little of a big deal it actually is.]

... I'm fine. You were just confused, that's all.

I'm more worried about you, honestly.

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a nice big comment to make up for my spottiness

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