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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[Peter sighs through his nose, wiping blood away with gauze pads before he starts in on the suture kit; it's an awkward angle, but it'll heal a hell of a lot faster on him if he makes sure the wound's sealed up like anyone else. It should only take a few days to go away — the perks of spider powers, and if Sanji dare study the man in his underwear, he'd note that, other than typical little moles, the guy is completely scar free. Smooth as a baby's butt, yep.

Him and his 1, 2, 3 whole chest hairs.]

I can handle it all just fine, promise. You can get back to your work.

Just... If you can, don't tell Gloria or Miriam? I know they worry enough as it is.

[He starts setting up the suture kit, wincing.

His shoulder hurts like hell. Landed funny on it.

Can't villains and criminals relax for just one week? Just one!]

[Eh. Shock's worn off. Sanji's stare is now blatant and observant, noting how scarless this asshole is. The relative strangeness of it doesn't escape him, either; everyone's got scars, and he was so certain that Do-Gooder Peter would be riddled with them on his constant crusade to be helpful.

... Sanji's not used to being wrong, either, so the detail sticks in his head like an irritating riddle. Even when the guy isn't trying, Peter just pisses him off.]

It ain't my business. [Meaning he's not saying shit so long as no one grills him. He gives a shrug, stuffs his hands back into his pockets]

How much money do you owe?

[Pretty nosy guy for someone who just declared this ain't his business]

[Record-skipping sound, hello; it's been a while, old friend!

He stares for a moment, mouth hanging slightly open—]

10... [Okay, that seems like a good start! Oh god, Pete, what are you getting yourself into? He clears his throat and sighs, looking back down to his wound; thanks to his hyper-healing, the blood has at least coagulated. Awesome. Now to just go full-on knitting granny mode and close it up.] ... 10 grand. But like I said — I can handle it.

[He wrinkles his nose at Sanji, suspicion showing.]

Why're you asking?

[... squinting at Peter, looking partially flummoxed.]

Oh.

[That’s it, huh... and here Sanji had assumed it was a real emergency, not chump change. Must be some small time crooks bothering him, Sanji guesses. No one under his family name, either. The Vinsmokes pay too well for their services and have an image to maintain.

He’s still working through a list of the typical suspects when Peter asks his question, to which Sanji responds with his usual shrug of nonchalance. And much like a cat who no longer cares for attention, the man starts for the door.] Was curious.

[grabbing his spatula, walking out the door. Bye, Sandy, I guess B|]

[... Well, he's not surprised. But he's also a little worried now, because the very last thing he wanted was to draw attention by Sanji of all people. He'll just have to completely vanish from FEAST when he's hurt — can't afford to bring it back here, where connections can be made. Once he's properly stitched himself up, he drags on a t-shirt and sweatpants and lays down with a wince on the couch.

Though he's thrown his arm over his eyes, he's not sure he'll be able to get to sleep; too busy worrying what may or may not come of this little unwanted meeting. Did he give anything away? Did he create a seed of doubt? What's Sanji's game?

Ugh. Maybe he shouldn't be living here. It's not like he can't find a roof to sleep on.

A groan leaves him, and he checks his phone.

MJ had sent one text —

'Still waiting for the next flight. Airports are a nightmare. U ok?'

'Oh I'm good. Same ol same ol.'

'Sometimes same ol = bad, considering what your 'same' usually is. :/
Just take care of urself, Tiger.'

'scout's honor, I'll be good.'

God, he misses her sometimes. Even more now that she's reporting in another country. With a little smile, he sends a handful of embarrassing emoticons and drops his head back again — and then he feels the faintest tingle of his spider senses: Someone approaching the office. Who now...?]

[Relax, Pete, it's no one who plans on staying long.

He's going to hear a knock on the door -- two knuckles rapping sharply on wood, and then the sound of something solid being placed on the floor. Then, footsteps clicking away from the door.

It's up to Peter if he feels like catching the perpetrator, but when he opens the door, there will be a tray in his way, with a bowl of... soup of all things. A hearty combination of butternut squash and thick spices, freshly made. But wait, there's another plate, too, this time with a "simple" sandwich on top a couple of napkins, and finally a glass of water (because fuck you, no special treatment, alright?).

Honestly it's best not to ask questions. The answers probably wouldn't make any sense.]

[Well... shucks. He takes his time to get to the door, but it doesn't take much of a scientist to see who had left it behind — and even though he's dizzied from injury and exhausted, his stomach (with it's unfathomable, bottomless metabolism) gurgles and growls at the sight of the food. He picks it up with care, looking down the hallway with a little smile.

'... Boy, I sure hope this isn't poisoned.'

But guess who has two thumbs and eats it, practically licking the bowl?

This guy.

And then he promptly passes out on the couch, pale and jittery from the night — but full and sleepy and feeling a little better (paranoia about Sanji Vinsmoke be damned). It's much better than staring at the walls like he does some nights, tossing and turning and wondering what to do with himself.

... Now he just mumbles about butternut squash in his sleep.]

[Down in the kitchen, having already started his clean-up regimen, Sanji heaves a sigh of relief when certain Peter isn't going to follow. Good.

Now to put this in the back of his mind to die.

Which might be why, besides kicking at the office door some time in the morning (hey, it's a cheap and easy alarm system for bastards who might have gotten their ass kicked the night before so they don't get caught by Gloria or Miriam looking like a beat up hobo +_+), Sanji doesn't approach Peter. Doesn't really talk to him, either. Any attempt is going to be met with an almost pitbull growl to back off, Sanji is in no mood to talk, apparently.

Though if Peter behaves and simply comes sniffing around for a meal, then... Sanji supposes he can raise a truce long enough to feed the nerd with a six-pack. Everything from hotdogs to french toast to beef wellington, assuming there are ingredients on standby and Gloria doesn't murder him for showing off.

Well, maybe not murder him, to be fair. That's the power of building up goodwill in a place like this. "Sandy" can act two shakes away from a grumpy cat if he wants, that won't stop the majority of the building from liking him.

Unless, of course... he doesn't show up for work.

Wednesday morning, 7am. Then 8am. Then 9am. The clock ticks on until Gloria has to accept that her star volunteer is gonna be a no-show for the morning. Whelp. They've run FEAST on shorter staff. It's just an annoying hiccup in the scheme of things. She takes over the kitchen, everything falls back into place...

Best believe when Sanji shows up the next day, he and Gloria have a little "chat".

If there's any surprise, it's that Sanji isn't fired on the spot. He takes his punishment gracefully enough, never backtalks, just stands there looking vaguely pale with a slight sway in his step. Eventually Gloria kicks him back on his shift before calling Peter to the side, with a request on hand: keep an eye on him.

Sandy's... acting odd.]

Edited 2019-01-13 23:06 (UTC)

[Oh, yeah. Acting odd, for sure — though Peter at least has an idea of the guy's background, so the moment he's late (which is unusual, to say the least), Peter begins to count off possibilities. And it makes him wonder if he should be suited up as Spider-Man, looking around for the guy. He's... admittedly been way softer on the guy than usual, out on the streets. Or at least has tried to avoid fighting him if he can help it.

Maybe this is a crime thing. When he finally shows up, Peter's studying him very carefully from afar, distracted from his own usual tasks; Miriam pinches his face when he spaces out at one point. Then Gloria nabs him. So he knows this is more serious a situation, as he saddles in to help Sanji with random helper tasks around the kitchen.

Standing next to the guy, he leans in, voice low.]

Uh. Hey. I was worried something happened. Where were you?

[Well... there was no way he'd avoid the gossip. Sanji knew that coming in here looking pale and uneven. The eyes on his back and whispers in his ears have been following him around all morning, and Peter saddling up next to him barely gets a grunt of recognition.

... Good question, though. The strained pause means someone didn't think up an answer]

Nothing you gotta worry about. [He speaks to Peter in a strangely subdued tone, thin and quiet, and with his hoodie having been up since he started his shift, it's difficult to get a gauge on his expression]

Already told Gloria if I'm late again, I won't argue if she fires me.

[He assumes Peter would prefer that; it's the only reason Sanji brings it up in the first place. Give the guy something to look forward to if shit comes to that, y'know? Like he said in the beginning, he won't take it personally.

Distracted by what's in front of him -- a simple broth, good for stretching meals -- Sanji returns his attention to the food, grasping at the handle of a wooden spoon. And that's normal enough, no cause for concern, until the handle begins to... smoke... a few tendrils of gray rising from it like a cigarette.

The spoon is quickly discarded into the sink like it just bit him.]

-- Listen, I... got shit covered in here. Sure Miriam will want you somewhere else.

[... Frowning, he slides a little closer, so that their voices can be between them.]

Hey. You can talk to me. If there's anyone around here who knows what it's like to be in a crappy situation outside these walls... Y'know. [And if he notices the smoke, he's not about to bring attention to it; something's really damn serious here.] Are you — in any danger? Do you need somewhere to crash?

[He knows, obviously, that whatever's happening... it's not so simple.

But he'd rather play it more like Peter Parker.

Not Spider-Man-That-Knows-Sanji's-Background-A-Little.

Besides...

Maybe Sanji's good side rubbed off on him enough to make him genuinely worry.]

[... Should've known better than to give Peter that food.

He fuckin swears, you do one good deed in this world and everyone thinks you're their best friend. He hates it. Reminds him too much of one smoking bastard with a crooked smile and jetblack hair, whose dead in the ground now because he couldn't use his common sense when it mattered most.

Idiots. All of them. One of his hands twists itself up in his hair, underneath the hoodie, as a snarl escapes him]

Would you just fuckin back off already?

[The air spikes with that retort, to a temperature Sanji probably couldn't play off even if he wanted to -- and the panic sets in then, he made a mistake coming here, he wanted this too badly.

This always happens.

...]

I-- I need running water. A shower. A hose. Something. [Speaking quickly in a tense, unsteady voice as he abruptly shuts off the oven and takes many steps away from Peter, to keep some distance between them. The temperature has leveled but not lowered.]

Don't ask shitty questions right now. Either help or get out of my way.

[Peter bites his lip for a moment, before reaching out and grabbing a pinch of Sanji's hoodie sleeve — it hurts a little, and he looks with wide eyes at Sanji... but then tugs, urgent, brow furrowed. He feels the heat there, lining his forehead with sweat, and he knows what it means, sure. Of course he does. Peter Parker should probably be scared, because he's just some civilian, right? He can't bring himself to do that, though.

He sucks in a sharp breath, nodding back toward the stairway door beyond the kitchen.

It's a beeline, no one to question them.]

Follow me. Rooftop. I got exactly what you need up there.

[He'll start walking — pacing quickly, taking two stairs at a time. When they finally get to the roof, Sanji can see why he's leading him there: a garden sits up here, of an assortment of different plants that are slightly weathered and wrinkled (Peter will never claim to be a good replacement gardener). He leaves Sanji there for a moment and vanishes around the back of the dying tomatoes—]

[He reappears holding a watering hose.

And then proceeds to blast Sanji with it, full-force.]

[Never has Sanji been grateful for the hoodie hiding most of his face. Peter's just too damn nosy for his own good, and if he got a good look at Sanji, he'd see a healthy amount of concern being reflected back at him. There are consequences to being this bold, kid...

Shit though, does it matter? Peter directs him to the stairs and Sanji follows him as quickly as he's able, nearly stumbling into the walls but making it to the roof all the same. Compared to the kitchen, the heat radiating off his body has more room to spread -- a relief to Sanji, dangerous to the area. He stops short upon seeing those flowers.]

O-oi, no -- we can't, not near shit like--

[And then he gets blasted in the fuckin face with a watering hose so never fuckin mind--]

You shit--!!

[Ho boy. His shock drowns out into a gurgle of betrayal, both of his hands trying to keep the spray from flying up his nose. In seconds he's drenched, clothing heavy with water and weighing down to the ground. Ever wear wet sweatpants in public? They don't like to stay in place.

It's probably for the best Sanji just falls over before his pants do.

And the entire time, smoke wafts from his body, the same sort you see upon putting a fire out, just curls and curls of it dancing into the sky. It's going to last a good minute before said smoke disappears and leaves Sanji shivering on the ground, his head hidden in his knees and arms.

... Weakly, after Peter has (hopefully) turned the water off:]

Fuck you, asshole.

Edited (LSDHFOSF FUCKIN CODE) 2019-01-17 08:34 (UTC)

[Peter breathes a sigh of relief, before a sheepish little laugh escapes him.]

You said you need a hose. Did it work?

[Sure, he totally has burns on his index and thumb finger now, but he's done worse trying to make dinner for MJ before. Lest we forget the time he almost burned down an entire apartment complex with dumplings.]

... Uh — here — [Against all self-preservation, Peter sprays himself in the face with the hose, totally getting soaked from head to toe as well with a few seconds of patience. Then he tosses aside the hose to wander over, hugging his arms to his chest.] N-now we're even! S-so don't throw me off the roof.

Holycrapthat'scold.

[Lifting his head from his arms and Sanji just. stares at Peter underneath his hoodie. Like he's found a particularly dumb unicorn on the roof. There he is, soaked to the bone and grinning like it's no big deal that the newly appointed volunteer almost set the kitchen on fire.

-- He should kill him, he thinks briefly.

Just one push off the roof, and boom. A broken neck. No one will know the difference -- no one who matters at any rate. It'll probably cost him his place at FEAST if anyone gets suspicious, but that's small shit compared to the clusterfuck that will result in letting Peter walk free.

Any of the other Vinsmokes would do it.

...]

Tch. You really can't help yourself, can you? Don't blame me if you get sick. [Spoken in vague annoyance. That's just par for the course when dealing with Sanji, though. If anything, there's a softer quality lurking underneath his disapproval at Peter's state of dress, and after a beat, Sanji finally pushes his hoodie off the top of his head.

His, uh... half of his face is covered in burns. Like someone shoved his face into a fire pit and left it there overnight. Doesn't seem to bother him, however, as he's already gone to fishing in his pockets and pulling out a soaked carton of cigarettes with a look of dismay, then a deep sigh.]

Didn't even give me a chance to save 'em...

Hey, it's for the greater good; those'll kill...

[... Oh.

If there's ever a way to make Peter's expression fade into grim concern — that'd do it. He drops down to a knee, looking at Sanji's face with an alarm that radiates in the lines of his brow and the hazel in his eyes. His voice is low and serious.]

Jesus, Sandy. What happened to you?

[On the bright side, he's not so annoying that he'd reach out for the guy's face; that's a little too personal, and he knows how it feels to be on the other end of that after a miserable fight. But god does he want to check it closer, and he is apparently bold enough to be near the guy after he could have set the building on fire with his body.

That looks bad.]

How'd-?

... Stop making that face, bastard. [A small scowl before he pulls the hoodie right back over his head (and then takes it off quick because ew it's cold and wet)] It'll heal quick.

[He's a good healer, this one. Kinda like you, Peter. Not that Sanji is aware of this, otherwise they'd have a few things to talk about, wouldn't they?]

The "how" isn't important. I just need to keep a lid on this shit until it's gone. [Being tightlipped as always, good luck getting any details out of him. He fiddles with some strands of hair to hide the worst of the burns before giving another shiver, curling up on himself more]

... I trust you can keep your mouth shut?

[Ha. Trust. It's a joke because he doesn't trust anyone, obviously.]

[Spoilers, Sanji: He's still making the doe-eyed face.]

I'm definitely vetoing that it isn't important. It someone's doing this to you, you should look out for yourself and look for help... But —

Alright. I'll keep my mouth shut. For once.

[He's not gonna pretend he has any real say over it, because they're not exactly besties like he and Harry. But he's still — something. Not a friend, maybe, but... uh. A co-worker? He thinks? He's not really sure where to categorize a villain who isn't acting villainous. Not that Sanji was always very good at it to begin with...]

Can I at least go grab some burn gel for it? And, uh. Maybe I can grab some... clothes... We can hang these out to dry up here, or whatever, while you tell me how much I suck at gardening.

I tell him not to make that face and then he just keeps doing it...

[How has Peter survived this long with that hemorrhaging heart of his? Oh, right, probably because of his GODDAMN SIX PACK, Sanji is never going to let it go--]

Fine, get whatever. Just get out of my hair for a bit. [You know cats who hiss and spit but don't actually bite and in fact refuse to move from their space on the couch because they know they can just boss you around? Yeah... yeah. Peter gets a mugger's glare for his troubles.]

... And what did those plants ever do to you...?

Ouch, man. Ouch.

[He smiles a little more, before rushing off to go to his thing — and of course, that includes pit-stopping and explaining to Gloria that Sandy's just having a hard time, and it's not something he can go into; they all know around FEAST what it's like, to be having a rough patch that goes unspoken. So knowing that, they can move on with things as usual. Suffice to say, by the time he's back, he's got band-aids around his two burnt digits and a kit snuck in under a few layers of folded clothing.

Triumphantly appearing in the middle of the soggy rooftop, he announces boldly:]

Alright — strip down!

[And then he tosses the man a towel.]

...

I'm burning this later.

[He announces, casually, while towel drying his hair first to soak up the water still trying to drip down his neck and face. Sanji has never professed to like Peter, exactly, but never has he judged the other man so scathingly as he does now.

What a nerd.]

Also, no, you're gonna give me my clothes and then fuck off to the other side of the roof while I get dressed.

[Wowza, is Sanji shy? ... Or is he just an asshole?]

Ooooh, a shy one. Alright, I see how it is.

[He tosses Sanji his pile, in that case, and turns away himself.

So he can start dragging his own clothes off.

No problemo.]

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rofl that icon, I am dying

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