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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[WHOAAHOHOHOOO THERE.

How'd he know mentioning the eyebrows would do such a thiiiing?

He's so caught off guard. Truly. It's time to zip across the skyline and swerve his way around bullets that come at him with reckless abandon; funny how that is, too, huh? You'd think one of those would get him. Too bad the spidey-sense gives him plenty of heads up where he should and shouldn't be lingering. He throws a handful of web grenades at the group of men, and they explode in a grand spidertastic spectacle.

Careful, Sanji, those are really sticky.

You know that from experience.]

Aw, what, you can't afford a decent razor?!

Or do those things just defy the laws of hair-trimming!?

[... He wishes he could grow facial hair without looking like he's got some kind of mange on his face. Uncool. Anyway, he pinballs around the lampposts, sticking men to hard surfaces left and right.]

Just ask dad for some laser-treatment! That oughta do it!

[Lord, what a mouthy bastard. Sanji forgot how much he hates it when Spiderman talks. If he could just get a voiceless model, one with the web slinging and none of the other nonsense, this would actually shape up to be a fun evening...

Anyway while Spiderman is cleaning up, Sanji completely drops the furious act and pulls out another cigarette, making himself comfy on the wall. Even considers breaking open a vending machine and stealing some Cheetos. He'll move if a web strays too close to him, but otherwise...]

Oh no, you've captured all of my men. [Said in a complete deadpan over the groans of his subordinates, all of them stuck to the walls at uncomfortable angles] Didn't see that coming at all. Whatever am I gonna do now?

[Oh, maybe set his leg on fire for starters. Doesn't burn the cloth of his expensive slacks, but Spiderman's already seen that trick. Without blinking, he reaches down, lighting the cigarette with his flames, then sticks it in his mouth]

Anyway, if you're done talking shit... [Sending a haughty smirk the other's way, and finally readying his battle stance. The fire starts licking its way out.] Maybe be a little more interesting or I'll just turn this entire building into tinder.

[Is it an actual threat? Wasn't this supposed to be some simple money laundering? Hard to say with this Vinsmoke. Any of the other brothers would know damn well you don't bring down an entire building for shits and giggles, the collateral alone would get them kicked out of the family, but hey. They say the third child is a little unhinged.]

I'm gonna have to call your bluff there, buddy.

[Spider-Man lands atop the money laundering van (which has wheels that are conveniently webbed down to the asphalt; thank you, thank you, I'll be here all day. He's got a relaxed aura bout him as he squats, like he's just chatting with a good bud of his — one that tries to kill him, sure, but—]

You Vinsmokes are as methodical as Kingpin was with collateral, but even if you weren't —

... I have a feeling you wouldn't.

But I bet you're itching to play whack-a-spider with that matchstick leg of yours.

[He grins behind his mask.]

Remind me again, which of your brothers did I toss behind bars last week?

I'll send ya' to catch up with family stuff.

[Mouthy bastard, oh yes, yes he is.

But he'd prefer not to fight at all! See what you make him do?]

[...

For a beat, Sanji just stares at Spiderman, his more playful bloodlust abruptly turning sour the more the other guy talks. You'd think some shit would be sacred between them, topics they shouldn't bring up, but nah. Apparently his arch nemesis didn't catch the memo.

In a flash of fire, the flames are snuffed out from his leg entirely.]

Yonji. And he's already out. House arrest or some shit.

[Took all of three days before the strings were pulled, cut, and rearranged just as his father had ordered. Nothing but the best for his beloved sons.]

Almost seems like the shit you do has no meaning in the long run, eh? Jail's just a revolving door to us.

[A snort. Expression flatlining, Sanji takes to the air with one kick off the pavement, hands in his pockets]

Whatever. Deep frying's too good for you, so let's get this over with.

[He's not in the mood to play, suddenly. It's a risk coming at his opponent without fire, those webs are bad news for his legs, but Spiderman isn't the only one whose acrobatic under pressure.]

It used to be a revolving door for Fisk, too.

Just because you took over his turf doesn't change that you'll end up the same as him.

[Spent eight years trying to get that guy put away, and now he's gotta deal with all these little crime families; or, uh, the big one, mostly. The others try their best to duke it out with the Vinsmokes, but to no avail. Why can't things be simple? Like 'Godfather' simple, where all he had to worry about was someone throwing a horse head at him?

He crouches, ready to leap. Now we're playing with fi—

... Okay, we're not playing with fire. That's new.

But he'll work through it! If anything, it's a good thing, right? No fire! As Sanji leaps at him, Spider-Man does a back-flip out of his general way, throwing one of his patented 'electric web-bombs' at the guy; if he can shock him into submission, that'd be much easier than a long-winded fight, right?]

That's a shame, I'm super into deep-fried foods!

You wanna go out on a date to Coney Island after this?!

[LEMME JUST TOP OFF THE ELECTRIC WEB-BOMB WITH A BUNCHA PTOO-PTOO WEB SHOTS.

SURELY YOU CANNOT EVADE THEM ALL MY ARCH RIVAL-]

[Not to speak ill of another crime family (there are rules to this sort of thing, after all), but Sanji visibly rolls his eyes at the mention of Fisk. Oh, a formidable man, make no mistake of that; just one who got too comfortable being at the top and forgot how to take care of threats. It had been a little too easy slipping into the power vacuum left behind.

There's no love lost between Sanji and his father, but him? In jail for longer than he chooses? Heh, that's a load a--]

Wh-- shithead, you can't afford my tastes!

[Snapping out of his thoughts with a snarl and looking downright offended Spiderman would try and woo him with fried food, fuck you dude -- though once he notices something being thrown his way, Sanji swears and backtracks immediately, shooting himself upward to avoid the worst of the web shots. Doesn't get him any closer to Spidey, but he's not a mess of fried organs, either.]

Tch! Fancy tech coming from you.

[SORRY HE'S NOT TOUCHING IT, TRY AGAIN.]

What, you think I'm some monkey in a suit?! Rude!

[He thwips down to the ground, catches a big case of fake cash, and catapults it right at Sanji's head. If he can just keep the guy from reaching him, he can win this duking-it-out session — after all, the guy is mostly short-distance attacks. Also, maybe he'll break open the cache and pour money in the air. And that would look really, really cool.]

And hey! I could be a billionaire for all you know!

[HE'S GONNA GO FOR IT, HE'S GONNA GO FOR A FACE-PUNCH.

HERE HE COMES DON'T FAIL ME NOW MONEY CASE-!]

You're a dumbass in a suit!

[Oh Sanji makes short work of that case, kicking it to the side once its in range -- and then looking vaguely surprised by Spider-man's follow up when the asshole tries to punch him in the face.

Huh. Not too bad. It connects, enough to give the Vinsmoke a bloody nose for his troubles.

It also means Sanji pivots on the air, leg coming to swipe for the other man's ribcage. Has this guy ever been hit by Sanji's kick? Breaks boulders, dude, so try not to explode like a bloody piñata if it hits.

-- Also yes, the case explodes and rains down dollar bills. At least someone is winning here.]

[... Uhh.

He forgot how fast you were.

That is to say, the foot connects with full-force against his left-hand ribs, and a white explosion of stars hits him for a second before he twists himself around mid-air. He's pretty sure those are gonna be — augh — heavily bruised for a few days. But if there's one thing he has that Sanji doesn't, it's extra long limbs.

AKA his webshooters. He shoots one from his wrist, catching the front of Sanji's shirt and jerking him forward—]

Says the—

[And then promptly yanks him into his awaiting feet as he pencil-dives straight up into the air.]

—dumbass in a suit!!!

[Ignore the strained pain in his voice. Thanks, bud.]

Edited 2018-12-21 04:42 (UTC)

[Ah, well.

That wakes him up.

It's a different sort of pain from the jab to his face, the kind that steals his breath and keeps a retort out of his lungs, jesus fuck that hurts. Coughing up a mouthful of blood, his feet lose traction in the air. If not for that web still connected to his shirt, he'd probably fall to the ground.

-- Or, y'know, he could instead just grab ahold of that foot that so unkindly jabbed him in the stomach, while the temperature in the air starts to spike. The look in Sanji's eyes? A tad too wild suddenly, more than happy to pay some of that pain back at his opponent.

It might start to get hot in a second.]

[-- Until the singing of police sirens creeps up on the silence, cutting through Sanji's temper and his adrenaline. Ah... bastards got here faster than expected.]

Tch.

[Immediately he redirects his efforts to the web, roasting it with a well-timed flame, shoving Spider-man off of him, and then letting himself freefall to land safely on the ground below. He carries himself well for someone who just got kicked brutally in the stomach. Wipes the blood off his mouth, readjusts his suit...]

A shame. Thought I'd be babysitting you longer tonight. [He's already rolled another cigarette between his fingers, and only spares his men a guarded stare before preparing to walk away -- from both them and his fight.]

I'd take a look at those bills if I were you. Don't look stupid in front of the cops.

[Yeah, those bills that fell out of the case? Same as the bills in the truck -- they're all monopoly bills.

As in, from the board game.

:)]

Man, I gotta figure out where you get those powers.

[It's mostly to himself, more than anything, as Spider-Man holds his ribs and squints after Sanji, wondering if he should try to web him up or not (and man, abandoning your goons — that's cold). Ultimately he turns to the truck in question and holds up a singed monopoly bill. Was this — part of the gig? Was this just to mess with him? Were they doing a deal with Hasbro? Spider-Man has never been so vexed in all his eight years.

Regardless, he feels... suspiciously duped.

His shoulders droop, as the cop cars appear over the hill.]

.......

Man, I sure hope Jameson doesn't catch wind of this.

"WHAT DID I TELL YOU ABOUT THIS SPIDER-MAN MENACE? OH, NOBODY LISTENS TO J. JONAH JAMESON WHEN HE SAYS THIS GUY IS A JOKE. DID WE FORGET THE STATUE OF LIBERTY INCIDENT? HOW ABOUT THE TRUCK-TIPPING THAT LEFT A WHOLE CARGO OF ORANGES ON THE BROOKLYN BRIDGE? EVEN IF WE PRETEND ALL OF THE SERIOUS OFFENSES AREN'T AN ISSUE, YOU CAN'T DENY ME THIS: SPIDER-MAN IS NO BETTER THAN A COMMON PRANKSTER OFF ONE OF THOSE TUBEYOU CHANNELS! WHAT'S THAT, JARED? IT'S — SHUT UP, I SAID IT RIGHT!

THE POINT IS THIS, MY DEAR LISTENER:

SPIDER-MAN IS SETTING UP MONEY LAUNDERING. AND HE'S TRYING TO PUT MONOPOLY BACK INTO THE SPOTLIGHT. WAKE UP, AMERICA: MONOPOLY IS JUST AN EXCUSE TO TEAR APART PERFECTLY GOOD FAMILIES—

[Peter clicks off the radio with a sigh, from where he's sitting on the couch of his 'room'. Room being a... strong word for it. He just sleeps in the FEAST office his aunt used to work from, but hey, a home's where the heart is. Or something like that. He'd spent a better part of the day icing ribs that are a whole slew of colors now, and he lifts his shirt for a moment to give them a once over.

Yesterday was a mess.

Stupid Vinsmoke drama. Ugh.

Give him at least another week before you come at him again, huh?]

[But today, we'll just — keep going. Always keep going. Ignore Jameson and his stupid anti-Spider-Man radioshow, ignore the way it hurts to breathe and lift his arm, ignore the fact that he hasn't heard from his best friend in months with no luck... Blah blah blah. Pity party, table for one.

Achingly crossing the room, he picks up a framed picture of him and May with a little smile.]

"When you help someone, you help everyone."

... Miss you, May.

[He's gonna do right by her, though. Time to get to work in FEAST.

Usual morning routine, and he's even getting a small wage for it. Granted, it's easy to do when you live in the upstairs office area, but it absolutely counts. Miriam's in her own office, doing the usual head-honcho number tallying (just recently hired, and thank god, because Peter can't handle being Spider-Man and doing FEAST), and he gives her a wave before he makes his way downstairs, toward the kitchen.

Maybe to snag a roll or something, before helping move new boxes of charitable goods in and out of the place. Hopefully he doesn't look too obviously strained by it, this week.]

[Shelters like FEAST -- especially generously funded shelters -- never sleep. Soon as the front doors open, there's the usual crowd of volunteers taking their morning shifts, and along with any homeless who wander in looking for a meal or a place to rest, it doesn't take long for the place to get busy. Always with a soft, friendly atmosphere, but busy nonetheless.

So new faces? Aren't completely out of place here. One such gentleman will be very slowly edging himself through the front door, in fact, dressed casually in sweats pants and a sweater, blond hair mussed over his eyes. To say he looks nervous is a stretch, but he's not exuding confidence, either. More like he's taking note of the surroundings, silent unless someone approaches him.

That doesn't happen just yet, leaving him to continue his explorations until he finds himself wandering into the kitchens. Good bit of luck, that. From one of his pockets, he fetches out a piece of paper, letting it fall limp in his hand until he eventually approaches the only guy who looks like he knows what he's doing]

Oi -- uh, hey.

[With a polite nod, the man holds up the paper -- a For Help flyer, specifically looking for kitchen help]

This is FEAST, right? You guys looking for chefs?

Edited 2018-12-21 05:54 (UTC)

[This song practically playing in his head as he heads down the stairs, out toward the front doors, where a truck full of boxes is due to pull up any minute now.

New day, new me! New day, new stuff to focus on. Everything's great, Peter! Just think of those self-help books you have in your office (that are overdue, as is everything I've ever needed to borrow or pay for).

He stuffs the bread roll into his mouth and nearby runs into the familiar figure—]

[A record skips in his head.

He stares at Sanji, bread clutched firmly between his teeth.

(So you're probably wondering how I got here.)]

[He slowly takes the bread roll out of his mouth.

Just tell him you don't have room. Tell him you're full-up, Pete.]

Uh — yeah! Yeah, actually. Did you... wanna volunteer?

[Dammit, Peter.

Even seedy crooks have their good sides, right? Martin Li founded this place, years before he bombed the Osborn rally. Dr. Octavius had a lot of good sides to him, too, before he broke people out of prison and poisoned half the city. So it stands to reason someone who avoided hurting the general public would also have a nice side to them, right?

He's not here for Spider-Man.

Can't be.

... He'd never know, right? Peter's careful about that kind of thing.]

I mean, we start with volunteer work, but you can move up the ladder if you're good.

[The... staring is a touch unnerving, and the man's brows give a suspicious burrow all the while (still curly, by the way, just significantly more hidden by the cover of his hair). It isn't until Peter answers him that he relaxes back into place, folding the piece of paper before unceremoniously shoving it into his sweat pants.]

That's fine. I mean -- volunteering's the best I can do right now. Busy and shit.

[Mmm a potty mouth, this one. Shooting Peter a loose grin, he gives a shrug]

You the boss here? Got lost wandering around, heh. Couldn't find the office, or... wherever I'm supposed to go.

[Oh yeah, there's no hiding the curliness from Peter Parker, Spider of Men. But you know, it helps that he's actually taunted that eyebrow many a-time during his... usual work gig. Clearing his throat, he waves him to follow, taking him through the big gymnasium where the bunk beds are stacked up.]

I'm not the boss, no, but I guess I'm kind of, uh — the right hand man. I guess. Miriam's the new head of FEAST; short lady, gray hair, kind of old-school and too serious to throw puns at. But she's got a good heart and a good method of handling pocketbooks.

[The shelter folk here are just milling about their usual morning. A mom helps her kid put on shoes donated by the charitable city-goers. Mr. Hodges sits in front of the TV and gnashes his teeth, mumbling about demons — he'll come back to him in a bit, it's just his thing sometimes — and a few people are sitting with crossword puzzles with some earnest intensity, like they're defusing a bomb together.

It's an interesting place, to be sure. He always likes being around.

They're all part of New York City, too, right? Gotta protect them, too.]

Here, I'll... lead you to the kitchen. Gloria works in here in the mornings for a few hours before she heads off to her usual place of work, so she can boss you around until you get good footing. The only thing you do is fill in a form for volunteer work. [He's so damn relieved that it's easy to chatter about this, instead of looking like a deer in the headlights. Blame it on the years of helping May here. As they walk down the hall, pictures of the volunteers spring up; the most prevalent people in them seem to be an man of Chinese descent in a suit, and an older woman with red hair and kind eyes. Neither of which are... uh. Around anymore.] Oh! And Gloria's got a sharp mouth when it comes to slackers, so you better be on your toes; I put up the help wanted signs for her not too long ago because she kicked the last person out of the kitchen.

You ever get kicked by someone with a size 7 shoe?

It's like getting stabbed in the butt by a blow dart.

[... He jokes in intense situations.

Even if it's not obviously an intense situation. Sue him.

... Gloria's awesome, though. Started out homeless, now works her butt off with a job outside of here.

She's really someone to look up to, even at her younger age; Pete's proud of her.]

[Following along as Peter chatters, Sanji doesn't interrupt once, just nods at all the appropriate pauses with a vague smile on his face. He seems the be the quiet sort -- or perhaps more accurately, very watchful, taking in the experience as they wind their way towards the kitchen proper.

-- The mom helping her child does get a particularly soft look out of him, though.

As for the quip, he does offer up a breath of a laugh, shaking his head]

Size 7? No. Maybe a size 9.

[Just breezing right along with the joke, ha ha ha, then arching his brows in Peter's direction]

Should I be concerned you know what a blow dart feels like?

[He grins. More times than I can count. But he's not Spider-Man right now, so the answer is a definite:] Just metaphorical. Please don't throw darts at my butt to fill the void.

[... He's admittedly skeptical about this whole thing, and more than a little concerned under the guise of his carefree, friendly nature; he's gonna not make a big deal out of this, sure, but he also is getting his concerning feeling that this could be some kind of... trap. Or some way for the Vinsmokes to target FEAST. The thought of May's legacy being put into danger is an unsettling one.

But what if he's genuinely trying to be kind? Be better than his usual?

Mr. Li did the same thing; he loved this place, thought it was the best part of him, and yet...

And yet he left it behind to become a terrorist. A criminal.

Peter swivels around as they stand outside of the kitchen, still smiling a little.]

Oh, I'm Peter, by the way. [He holds out a hand.] Peter Parker.

[And I know who you are, Sanji Vinsmoke.

But... he wonders if he's going to be so bold with his identity here.]

Alessandro. [without missing a beat, he takes that hand and gives it a firm shake] Nice to meet ya, Peter.

[Though the moment he gives out his name, there’s a good-natured grimace of embarrassment at the mouthful it is. Yep that name is painfully Italian, proper accent and all]

I mean, no one calls me that shit except my sister, but she swears it sounds more professional. [A grin is offered Peter’s way, a smooth seque that... doesn’t really tell Peter what his nickname is, does it? Not matter. It couldn’t be because he purposefully left out that detail or anything.]

Anyway, it’s through this door that I meet my new slavedriver, eh? [Hey he’s just going off the vibe Peter set up here. Not that he actually looks concerned about it. There’s some level of mischief in his gaze now, like Peter set him up for an interesting challenge.]

Well, assuming I don’t get kicked out in the next five minutes, it’ll be nice working with ya.

[So painfully Italian, Peter just spiritually felt a beautiful bouquet of fresh breadsticks grow from the middle of an Italian restaurant's table, just from Sanji's reply. His more put-on smile grows just a bit more, because, well...]

Oooh, yeah. Gloria's gonna work you into shape. So here's some rules:

[Is he counting them off on his hands? Yes.]

One! Don't call her ma'am or miss or anything other than her name — she hates that. Two: don't ever talk ill about wheatcakes, or she'll make you do nothing but that as your chef gig for morning meals. Three, she's not short — so says her, which means you can't mention that she's definitely short. And fourth and most importantly...

[Wow, this sounds like it's gonna be sinist—]

Cover your mouth when you sneeze or cough.

[— lord but Sanji— ah, sorry, Alessandro actually starts to laugh at Peter’s follow up, what the heck man, you’re kinda a charming dweeb.

But of course he grows serious — or simply tries to be after he quiets, never mind the amused bend to his lips]

Right, right. Well my mom taught me a lady is always right. If she says she’s not short, she must be a giant.

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