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!"

One of the volunteers with a round face and shockingly red hair, Celeste, throws her arms around the man's shoulders as he appears from down the sidewalk, in-between the construction guys still sweeping debris. Peter looks kinda worse for wear, clothes smelling like smoke, patterned here and there with soot and debris; he's got a goose-egg on his forehead and some pretty unkempt hair, but otherwise... Solid.

He winces, and puts a hand on her back.]

Owowow, careful — I got thrown pretty hard there... My back's killing me...

[He has a story at the ready, as Celeste leans back and wipes at her eyes in relief. "Alessandro and Marcos have been looking for you...! They were calling the hospitals, and — and helping with looking through any wreckage, and I thought... I thought maybe the rig hit you, and you were just... gone..." She's about to burst into more tears (emotional gal, always has been), and he just rubs circles in her back with apologies on his tongue.]

Sorry, I was hiding out during that big fight, and I — I ended up needing to help someone who was hurt, and it was kind of a blur, honestly... I'll — I'll go let 'em know I'm okay. Which way'd they go?

["Inside FEAST. Calling around hospitals. If you weren't there..." Before she can burst into more tears, he calms her with a shoulder squeeze before making his way back inside — and everyone kinda looks at him like he's a ghost at first, before relieved voices start bouncing around the facility.

Time to go let everyone know he's totally not dead?]

[An hour of no-show from Peter and predictably, the shelter had been hollowed out by a state of grim shock. It hadn't just been "Sandy" and Marcos on the search; anyone with time to spare had made inquiries to the police, to civilians, to some of the regulars, with their eyes and ears on alert for any news that would ease the tension. It'd only been an hour since the incident, after all -- with all this organized chaos, surely Peter had just been overlooked.

So it's a relief to everyone's nerves that word spreads quickly in a place like this. The moment Peter returns and everyone already knows of it, somehow, most of them acting like they never doubted for a second he had to be alive. Just wouldn't be fair, y'know? Maybe that's how it is on this bitch of an Earth, but no, not Peter. He just... can't die that easily on 'em.

Gloria sticks her head into the kitchen -- "Sandy, Peter's in front!" -- before she heads out to greet him (and probably ride his ass for worrying the staff half the death).]

... S'not like I care, y'know. [Muttered under his breath, to no one, as the volunteer continues serving on trays what's soon to be the lunch rush, once the shelter has settled down some. Turns out people still need to eat, even when a big rig nearly rammed through the front door. He's got no time to see Peter, is his excuse. Shit knows the bastard is probably being mobbed by his legion of fans.]

... Well. [Taking a break, he leans into the oven, a brief smirk overtaking him as he listens to the jubilation in the cafeteria] Guess I owe Spider-Man doritos. [Heh]

[Peter makes his way through, with many back pats, hugs, and joyful words — a face-lift to an otherwise unpleasant day, to be sure, because their supplies for the day were... uh. Definitely totaled. They'll get by, though. They always do.

Peter eventually makes his way into the kitchen, smiling at him a little; he's still dressed in his slightly wartorn attire befitting a man who was nearly splattered by a big rig going 60 an hour. But with him comes a sort of fond aura (because everyone's already told him how much Sandy'd been looking high and low for him while he was missing).]

... Hey.

[And in case Sanji's worried it'll devolve immediately into sappiness:]

What's for lunch?

Since we lost our shitty supplies? Soup.

[Easy to make, easy to mass produce. The fact Sanji makes it taste like food from a five star restaurant is beside the point. A closer inspection will show it's a recipe based off the loaded potato, complete with bacon, green onions, sour cream, and shredded cheese fixings for anyone who wants it. After that, he's got slices of baked bread (some with garlic and cheese, some without) stationed to the side.

Not bad, really.]

Oh, and -- Congrats on not dying, I guess. [God knows he was completely unaffected. Obviously. Twirling a ladle in his hand, Sanji glances over his shoulder, expression somehow both neutral and judgy]

You look like shit.

I feel like shit; thanks for noticing my new look.

[He just grins at that, making his way closer. He's gonna be vanishing again in an hour or two, after some shifts here — Yuri's gonna have the bald guy's interview for him, or whatever they managed, anyway. And Peter can ask after toxicology reports and the like. Try to figure out if there's something more to this, like that big hallucination mess back in October...

Then there's patrolling again. He usually does more night patrols than day, but crime doesn't exactly sleep when the sun's out... Until then, he can rest easier, hanging out with some of the people here as the place gets caution-taped off for a bit. It's a real shitshow out there, with some broken fire hydrants and safety inspections.]

[He leans toward the many pots a-cookin, and his stomach growls. Super loudly.

The bruised and wild-haired man glances up innocently.]

...

Smells really good.

...

[...

Just gonna... slide him a tray?? So he can make his stupid ass a bowl?? What the fuck, dude. They probably heard you all the way in California]

How did you survive, again?

[Honestly the better question is how has Peter survived up until now. He really hopes the guy didn't get this beat up when his aunt was around]

By eating a lot of Top Ramen and McDonalds and take-out.

... When others could buy the take-out, most of the time.

[He says it just before eagerly starting to pour some soup into a bowl.

A pause.]

... And a lot of pizza coupons...

[Is he gonna start trying to slurp on soup that's still hot? Yes, yes he is.]

[Goddamn

that's nasty

u nasty]

Y'know, if you released the secret on how you keep that body with that diet, pretty sure you'd be rich in a year.

[Shit, even Sanji kinda wants tips. He's no slouch and would rather be shot in the back than eat Top Ramen, but intellectual curiosity has him wondering]

[He laughs at that, as if he wasn't almost killed today.

It's New York City, you get over these things. Obviously.]

... It's probably a medical condition or something. I just don't gain weight. [I mean, unless he falls into a depression and lays around in a bathroom eating pizza instead of swinging around fighting crime. But when would he ever do such a thing? Jeez.] May used to keep us on the healthy foods growing up, but, uh.

Then college happened.

[He blows on his spoon, one sec.]

So there went that.

[... After a moment, his spoon lowers, though. Because as much as he's enjoying getting over almost dying, there's also — well, him and his one-track mind.]

I wonder what happened out there. I heard the guy was seriously checked out, or something... [What's something a totally normal citizen would guess?] Maybe, uh. Bath salts?

[Maybe he rode that bad boy all the way from Florida.]

[Sanji is doing his usual gig. Which is to say, acting like he's only half-invested in the conversation, gaze trailing elsewhere as he completes the last of the lunch prep. Besides a few bowls, silverware, and condiments to lay out, he's ready for the worst of the rush to hit him, and settles back against the stove while he listens to Peter ramble.]

Bath salts are more a stimulant, so probably not that.

[The nice thing about working at a place like FEAST -- everyone's got an uncomfortable past they don't want advertised. It's why it works to his advantage to talk like he knows of drugs. What hobo doesn't know of bath salts?]

Bastard looked fast, but emotionally unresponsive. I've seen corpses with more energy. [A shrug]

[Peter dips his chin.

Because yeah, this didn't seem like... a drug thing at all, actually, or at least not a conventional one. Maybe a drug that made people obey you. He's betting there's someone — a villain, a group, a company — around town that is actually able to manipulate people. Oscorp, for all the bad crap they do, seems unlikely.

But there's a deep, dark underbelly, one he has investigated day in and day out.]

You got stuck out there? He didn't try to hurt you, did he?

[Hey, most of the time he's great at playing innocent civilian guy. He's just making sure his buddy Alessandro wasn't in grave danger while he was accompanying an injured person to the hospital. You know?]

Eh.

[That is not an answer; Sanji doesn't feel like providing one, either. Instead what Peter gets is a scoff as Sanji starts loading up bowls with soup, for the lunch rush to come take.]

Next time don't fuckin' wander near big rigs trying to drive into our building and Gloria won't send me looking for you in the middle of shit storm.

[So, maybe the bald asshole took a few swings at him. Maybe.]

[Peter spends some of Sanji's reply shoveling soup into his face—

But at that, he smiles behind the spoon, a crinkle to his eyes that says 'you're full of shit'.]

... Sorry for worrying you, shit head.

[Awww, look at that. Boy scout is using language you taught him.]

[immediatELY TAKING AN EMPTY BOWL AND THROWING IT AT PETER'S HEAD]

GET THE HELL OUT OF MY KITCHEN, BASTARD.

[Whelp.

Scene and cut.]

[Honestly though, there would be another level of violence following that bowl if not for the... unexpected screech that overtakes Sanji's vocal chords right then and there, the man literally jumping back into a cabinet like Peter just caught on fire (okay maybe not fire but grew a second head).

It's not even anger, either -- nope, just honest-to-god fear, eyes wide and hands up like he's got a gun pointed at his face and everything.]

Are you fuckin kidding me?!

[So turns out that all the excitement from an hour ago shook up many a hiding place for the critters that live in the cracks and crevices of the building. Including... well, spiders. Not big spiders, but noticeable ones, one of which is currently crawling along the table nearest Peter]

[Don't scare him like that, oh my god?!

He jumps like a cat scared by windshield wipers, turning sharply with his spoon held like a meager weapon — why didn't my Spider senses go off?! — but then he sees just what Sanji's backing away from and... he just... stands there.

For a long moment.

The spider stops, skitters, and stops.]

... What?

[He points at it with a spoon, innocently looking at the cook.]

It's just a spider.

I can see that, Boy Scout!!

[Excuse him as he's on the other side of the kitchen. So fuck this, fuck that, fuck you Peter and fuck the spider, too.]

Oi! You're closer! Kill it!

[He wrinkles his nose at him.]

Whaaat? Nooo, no. I'm not gonna kill it.

Here, I'll get a cup. You got a cup?

[As he goes to look for a cup and paper towel, the spider stares Sanji down.

And then crawls a few steps his direction, just so he can stare a bit closer up.

From somewhere to Sanji's left:]

Are you... scared of spiders?

[lasja;fahifoasf is the approximate noise Sanji makes in response to the spider creeping closer, so.

Peter can form his own conclusions at this point.

But hey, if he needs another hint, Sanji taking a massive step back that almost puts him on top of the cabinet should do the speaking for him.]

Fine, whatever! Get it out of here or I'm quitting!

[Everyone outside of the cafeteria just listens through the side window, sitting confusedly as they watch Sanji and Peter's heads bob around from where they're bickering. The accidental show is as follows on Peter's end:]

You're not gonna quit!

It's not even that big-

Oh, crap, missed it — c'mere, you...!

Ha! got it!

You're no match for Peter Parker, college graduate and ex-pizza delivery boy!

[....

The FEAST crowd goes back to their reading and conversations, at that.

Suffice to say, this ends with Peter walking daintily out the back door of the building, with a tiny spider in a cup that is covered with a paper towel. And you can bet the whole time, he's just like,] You're killing me here, Sandy. This is ridiculous.

Shut up! Just do it! Asshole! Be useful for once in your shitty life!

[It's just a string of profanities from this man, and they don't end until Peter successfully catches the little bastard, then takes it out of the kitchen. Don't expect him to simmer down, either. By the time Peter returns, Sanji points to every single corner of the kitchen like it might be hiding a bomb.]

Oi! Check 'em! I'm not staying in here otherwise!

[Tiptoeing daintily and with his ladle gripped like a weapon, he looks like he means it?? Maybe?? It's hard to tell when he's so grumpy anyways.

... He might be hiding behind Peter, at some point. Listen, don't call him out on this, let him live his best life, spider-free]

Language.

I mean, I should barter with you first... get you to apologize for throwing a bowl at me...

[But Peter... decides to humor the poor guy, and makes no effort to barter his services. Sure, he's got all kinds of places to be, things to solve, civilians to go check in on... but if you help one person, you help 'em all, as Aunt May used to say. So he checks every nook and cranky, and eventually nearly runs into Sanji, the guy is so glued to his backside.

He claps his hands together by the end, whirling around to the cook as he stands exceedingly close.]

There! Not a spider in sight.

You're safe and secure as long as you stay in this room, Kitchen Lord.

[The rest of FEAST? No guarantees. And if someone overheard and leaves a rubber spider in there at some point, it's not his fault. Someone had to squawk about his phobia very loudly, mkay.]

Good.

... Now eat or get lost.

[Says this asshole after nervously glancing around Peter's shoulder, not a thank you in sight. There's a beat where he grimaces at how close Peter ends up standing next to him, but hey, at least having the grace to not bring it up, seeing as it was... his own fault. Sorta.

Lord, he needs a cigarette.]

And that bowl was your own shitty fault for getting mouthy. Mind your damned manners. [wiping some sweat off his brow, irritable] Set an example for the kids in the cafeteria.

[... Sanji did you just. Make a self-deprecating joke.

Naaaah.]

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[PSL] The Vinsmokes vs. Spider-Man

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