Peter Parker | Spider-Man (PS4) (
quipsandthwips) wrote2018-10-07 12:32 am
[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.
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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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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Top secret spy, Peter Parker, over here keeping an eye on the scene.
What? He's the right-hand man. He's clearly making sure Sanji isn't fucking this up, and not just trying to eavesdrop on them in case the guy really is here for nefarious purposes. As he goes, he helps carry in and out the supplies, of course — by the time he's wandered by for the 20th time, he sits down, wincing and pressing a hand to his bruised ribs. Eh. Maybe one's cracked. No, wait, there's two cracked. What are you even made of, Vinsmoke?]
Just... need a minute. Phew.
[No problem. He'll rest among the homeless; his people!
Literally, he's homeless, so it's his people.
He's talking to one of his homeless buds, Marcos, whenever Sanji decides to wander up on their interesting choice of dialogue.]
— No, no, I'm fine! Honestly, it was just a mugging gone bad. They were really, really mad when they opened my wallet and saw moths fly out of the space where money goes, you know? And it was a wooden bat, not even metal. Total amateurs. I just ice them.
["YEAH WELL, if you want me to fuck someone up for you, I'll totally do it!" Marcos responds, and he totally seems like someone who would look for these specific muggers RIGHT THIS MOMENT even though he has no clue what they even look like. Then again, his compulsive 'come at be bro' temper is why he ended up kicked out of his apartment by his parents when he was 16 and ready to fight anyone on the street.
... He's gotten better, in recent years!
But not much.
He's still a good egg, though. Under the other stuff.]
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Turns out he's been cooking since he was a kid, according to him. Learned from his mother. Specialty is whatever strikes his fancy, and while he admittedly needs work on large-scale meals, Sanji wastes no time in insisting his skills will qualify him for the job. Give him a day, a week to prove it.
-- Which turns out won't be necessary because Gloria isn't looking for Gordon Ramsay, alright? Just a chef who gets to work on time, does whatever she says at whatever moment she needs, and won't give everyone in the shelter diarrhea. If he manages that, he gets to stay.
So congrats to Alessandro! Looks like he scored himself some work. The volunteer forms are shoved in his direction before Gloria unceremoniously dismisses him, having better things to do than babysit their newest chef through the paperwork. If he needs help, go ask Peter.
And it's wandering out of the kitchens and into lunch room proper that Sanji overhears the conversation, arching a brow at both Marcos and Peter's discussion]
Heh. You got your ass kicked -- that happen often?
[Voice kept neutral except for the vaguest hint of amusement. He pats down his sweat pants before nodding in their direction]
Anyone got a pen I could use?
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Quick, Pete, think something up.]
Oh, you know. I'm not much of a fighter. And New York'll be New York. We have enough muggers to make a Mugger City somewhere. [He reaches into his breast pocket, wincing at both his dumb joke and the ache he feels when his arm shifts. From it, he pulls a pen and hands it right on over.] Which would be a great way to keep them all occupied, because they can mug each other in a never-ending loop...
Anyway, it's no big deal. Nothing that requires health insurance, anyway.
[Thank god, he can't afford another visit to the urgent care; the last one for his dislocated shoulder really set him back, on top of his rent and student loan payments... Guess at least he can make payments still with what little he makes now.
Marcos looks a little more concerned, though, brow wrinkled.
"Yeah, well. People who can't throw their weight in a fight has no business walking out there at night! Call someone here and they can go pick you up and bring you here, cuz."]
I'm really fine. Seriously! And I'm good to get more boxes, too. So I'm gonna just — do that. [He points at them, good natured.] You guys behave yourselves and I'll be right back with kitchen donations to sort through. Okay?
[Marcos huffs, arms crossed. "You got it, chief."
But after Peter leaves, the young man's expression relaxes, and he turns away to his own devices. "... That guy needs to listen for once. Actin' like I don't notice him sneaking off in the middle of the night to god knows where... Hey! New guy! Go make sure he doesn't pull a dozen muscles!"]
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The other guy's right. If you can't keep your shit together, don't go out in the streets unprepared.
Mouth pulling into a line, Sanji shifts his weight and keeps his expression bare as the muscles in his stomach pull and twist with pain. A souvenir from last night, tch. Which is why he nearly balks at Marcos like he's a fool for asking Sanji to participate in straining muscles that don't want to be moved.
... He'd also rather not lose face on his first day in the place, so after an amiable nod, Sanji finishes up the section he'd been writing up and pockets the paperwork for later, turning on a heel and following after Peter.
Lucky him that Peter hadn't been moving all that quick, so he's not hard to find. Before the other can even get a good grip on whatever box is in front of him, Sanji comes up, nudges one of them with his foot until it's pushed away from the others, and then lifts the whole thing up on his shoulder.]
How many we bringing over?
[How many times does he have to pretend he doesn't want to throw up because he's sore?]
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... All of them.
[God save their souls.]
We go through a lot of supplies here.
[He hefts it up, his ribs screaming in protest. And then gives pause.
When he looks back at Sanji, it's a sort of... mischievous, knowing look.]
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So he's already bending down to pick up another box for the sake of efficiency when Peter drops that quip with that look, and quick as a bullet:]
Ha! Dumbass.
[Voice dripping with unparalleled disapproval]
You expect to beat anyone after getting your shitty ass kicked with a bat?
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It slipped out. The brow twitch. The attitude. The inability to deal with stupidity. Sanji looks momentarily surprised at his choice of words, maybe even hiding a wince behind the cover of his hair.
.... Aaaand then, whatever grievances he might be having are burned to ash when the man tucks his chin down in lazy superiority.]
Besides, I'd win anyway.
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But he doesn't seem particularly concerned or scared by it.
He just smirks. Smirks!]
... Would not.
[:)]
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Peter has gone from "okay" to "fuckin trash I'm not talking to again"]
Kid, are you shitting me right now?
[K I D
K I D]
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Do you have the Benjamin Button disease? You can't be a day over 25!
[And yes, despite Sanji's sour grapes response, the 'kid' seems more than happy to be pleasant as he hoists up one of the boxes and starts walking, even as his side throbs with every step. You're not gonna go losing, are you?]
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[Bless his soul for trying to keep this civil, except the bleed through is already apparent: Sanji's annoyed, and it's only the threat of getting kicked out the day he signed up for this shit that has him hauling three boxes now, stacked on top of each other, so high he has to rely on memory and the annoying sound of Peter's voice to guide him back.]
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Watch the stoop steps, man.
And that definitely doesn't answer my question! Is a dude in his 20's even allowed to be self-conscious about his age? [Also, he's gonna walk a little faster. Just to see how devoted Sanji is to being annoyed and unwilling to be 2nd place in box carrying. God, would he be a nightmare at playing Monopoly? Peter's thinking yes.] Are you in your 30's? 40's? Because then I'd say you look great for someone in their 40's.
[Careful, Sanji — Miriam and Gloria are wandering these halls.
Wouldn't wanna get yourself into trouble on day one.]
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Peter.
This is why you end up suffering 3rd degree burns]
Why are you making shit complicated? Did you really miss the basic idea behind why I called you a kid in the first place? Because I'm not gonna explain it if you did.
[That also is not answering the question. What a surprise. Also of course he keeps up, practically keeping in step with Peter, in fact. The guy's upper body strength is near comical for some supposed nobody off the streets looking to work at a shelter.]
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Alessandro, man... you really have to work on the language. Miriam will seriously string you up by your sweater laces; are you sure you want her on your bad side? [He smiles a little, looking pleasant; once they're back inside and in the kitchen area, the poor new guy has no room to curse or be crabby, because the girls are watching him with interest. A pause, and a whistle as he puts a box down over in the storage area, just around the corner and down the hall.]
... Man, you've got some crazy arm muscle there; where do you work outside of this place, anyway? Or is there some kind of super-gym I can go to, to get that going for me?
[He's not about to even remotely look buff or strong; secret identities are very important, and he's 110% better at them than Sanji, he'd bet his last 20 bucks.]
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[Yikes. That's -- brutal. Honest, but perhaps uncalled for after ten minutes of interaction.]
Don't worry, I'll look after myself.
[And you'd think being checked out by the fairer sex would at least put a smile on this guy's face but no, he either hasn't noticed or is trying his damnedest not to notice. Somewhere on the other side of the grandline, a pirate is wailing in anguish over this injustice.
Anyway, he puts down the boxes as well, following Peter's lead still. Apparently his dislike is not enough to keep him from taking advantage of the other's tutelage, though given the bomb he dropped, Sanji doesn't look like he expects Peter to play nice for much longer.]
Tch. They were three boxes, not ten -- s'not that hard. Anyone whose helped unload a moving van knows what this feels like.
[A shrug]
Anyway, go sit down or something, I got the rest covered. You're just worrying that Marcos guy straining your injuries.
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You don't have to look after yourself here. That's the beauty of it — we all look out for each other, even when things are bleak. [He wipes his forehead, feeling the aching twinge in his cracked ribs.] And that means I'm not leaving you to do all the work, sorry.
... Besides, I can't afford to slack off.
This place means too much to me.
[So he starts back out toward the van without letting that linger too long, a chipper hop in his step, stopping momentarily to check on a pair playing Connect Four in the middle of the living space. Sanji'll notice he's actually pretty active — collects a number of boxes. And hey, is he collecting almost as many? Maybe that's just what it feels like. He's definitely not beating Sanji at box-carrying, but he doesn't seem to be in a rush to. Little conversations flower here and there as they cart these boxes, natural and friendly.
"When are you gonna get a place of your own, Pete?"
"I'm saving up, promise."
"Are we out of coats?"
"Nope, just got a fresh shipment in! Uhhh... Wash them first, for sure."
"Have you seen Jodie's other shoe?"
"I'll go check the roof."
"Pardon???"
"She has a habit of throwing them there. Don't ask."
Is he gonna go check the roof of this tall-ass building?
Absolutely.
But not without pressing a hand to his side when he feels he's in the safety of his own solitude, in the storage closet.]
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He's not here to make friends, cliché as the stupid saying as become. Just keep out of the way without causing trouble. So Sanji ignores all but Peter's parting statement, that this place is important to him.
... Hn. Well, that's fine, then. If the guy wants to bust his ass for a place he's attached to, Sanji has heard of weaker arguments. There's a shrug, a silent promise that he won't push the issue, before he goes to follow after.
At no point does Sanji interact with anyone else unless spoken to. He just listens, collecting the conversations to place like samples in a lab, until he has a more complete picture of the type of person Peter is:
A nosy do-gooder.
Type of person Sanji can't stand, either, so that makes things easy. After they've put a dent into the number of boxes they've gotta haul through the shelter, Sanji decides it's a good enough time to head back to the kitchen, finish his paperwork, and hand it over to Gloria. The thought of simply leaving without a word crosses his mind, but eventually he settles on sticking his head into the storage closet and calling out.]
Oi, I'm heading back to the kitchen.
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What could he say, man, Sanji still triggers it. He drops the hem of his shirt and spins around — nothing to see here, folks! — before offering Sanji a smile. The guy is abrasive and absolutely a stealth operative here, quiet and observant and... concerning, in some regards.]
Oh, sure thing. I'm usually banned from the kitchen because I'm practically bad luck in there, so — do your thing. [He gives a flash of thumbs up, before stepping out to follow (and just when you thought you were safe).] I'll walk with you! Heading that way, anyway; Mr. Hodges is bad-off [he taps his temple] today, so. Better give him a hand.
But I'll be front row to taste-test your food. Cross my heart.
[A pause.]
Can I ask you a question?
[He's gonna, anyway.]
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Not weird enough to seem suspicious, or Sanji doesn't give Peter anything besides an arched brow as he pulls back, allowing the other guy to exit the storage room. He's already halfway to tuning Peter out when he hears the thing he currently hates most in this world.
A question]
No.
[S t a r i n g at him like he expects the question anyway, he just wants to see what Peter does after being shut down.]
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... Look, I'm gonna be honest with you, Alessandro. You're obviously not a people person, and you're not leaping to make friends; when you're not quiet and hiding out on the sidelines, you're abrasive, and I'm pretty sure maybe allergic to positive reinforcement.
So I have to ask — why'd you decide to volunteer here?
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... Is what he nearly asks. Perhaps if Peter hadn't admitted how special this place is to him, Sanji would've let him have it with both barrels. No, he's not here to make friends, and he'd argue the only person he's been an asshole to is Peter, who seems determined to not give him any space.
Maybe leave him the fuck alone before making judgement calls, eh?
...]
I like to cook.
[That's it. That's all he offers. A neutral statement he knows won't help Peter come to any conclusions besides maybe mark Sanji as an asshole, but that's fine. Peter's goodwill isn't something he's eager for. Another beat where he stares the other down before turning away, as if finished with the conversation]
What, afraid I'll be a problem here? If you're worried, get me fired before I start. Pretty sure if you blew the whistle on me for not liking you, Gloria would kick my ass out. I won't even take it personally. [Walking along at a casual pace]
But if you don't, let's get something straight. I'm here to be professional, not dick around because you think you're hot shit. Stay out of my way and you'll get to see me be perfectly reasonable towards everyone else.
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But then:]
— You're right.
[The man blows out a breath, shoulders relaxing.]
... Not too long ago, we had someone working here who seemed to have good intentions. He was a friend, and I cared about him... but then we saw another side of him, and before I could do anything to protect this place, he — hurt a lot of the community here. Detached himself from all the good that he had in him and helped fill this place with hospital beds and sick people.
[Devil's Breath. An epidemic in New York City, one that left FEAST full when hospitals couldn't take anymore people in. An outbreak that took lives that Spider-Man couldn't bring back. Including one of the most precious people in that stupid hero's life.]
I guess I, um... I'm more protective now... I prod a lot, just to be sure... who to trust into this place. But I shouldn't make you feel unwelcome here. It's as open to you as it is anyone else.
[More sincerely:]
I'm sorry.
I'll stay out of your hair.
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...
...]
Eh?
[Yes Peter just dropped a load of sentimentality on him but that pales in comparison to that last part. Was that an apology? Is that was those sound like?
Sanji wouldn't know. The last one he heard was ten years ago.]
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rofl that icon, I am dying
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