Matthew Murdock is not prepared for another crime syndicate.
Nelson, Murdock and Page is just now coming back together after his hiatus, and they all need to get themselves together. New York as a whole needs time to heal from Fisk and the hand not to mention the world as a whole, having to come to terms with half of the Avengers now gone rogue.
Too much is happening in the world, and everyone is having difficulty keeping up with it, especially Matt.
He can't ignore it, the bodies that wash up on the docks, but he's still trying to repair his relationships with Foggy and Karen, along with the way people view of the Daredevil moniker as a whole after the shooting at Karen's work. He's never been one for positive rep when it comes to his night job, but it's still strange to have half of the Kitchen think he's a mass killer.
He pushes past though, and signs paperwork, talks to potential clients, and tries to ignore the ringing in his left ear.
So really, Foggy, he's trying his best to ignore it all, to try to put the Daredevil behind him, but the feeling the situation gives him is horrible. His stomach sinks with each body that shows up and each child who goes missing-- he can't hear nearly as well as he used to, but he doesn't need to his enhanced hearing to know something is deeply, deeply wrong here.
And, soon he finds, stood in the office, discussing finances that he still finds difficult to wrap his head around with Foggy, that the Police are after Castle again.
"I talked to Castle half an hour ago," It's late, but Karen enters the office with a racing hearts and quick, purposeful steps.
"What? Why? Noo..." Foggy answers quickly, turning to stare at their secretary as she deposits her bag on the desk and slumps into her chair, smooth her hands over his face and sighing. Stress fills ever inch of her body.
"I got called in by Brett." Foggy perks up a bit at that, a little less reluctant and disappointed sounding.
"What for?" He questions.
"What do you think it could be for?" Matt sighs, to which Foggy agrees.
"Okay, yeah, I guess I can figure it out." Karen runs her fingers through her hair before taking a deep, centering breath.
"Do we have any coffee made?" She shucks her coat off onto the back of the chair.
"Yes, that we do, it's even fancy coffee, festive. It's candy cane flavoured." Karen's face scrunched up a bit in confusion at Foggy's proclamation.
"It's the middle of June, why do we have candy cane coffee?" She stands and crosses the room to poor herself a cup nonetheless.
"Foggy stole it from his families shop because we didn't have any left, and all they had was candy cane," Foggy interrupts with a flourish of his hands.
"Actually, there was another flavour there, but cherry and coffee didn't sound like a fantastic mix to me." From the noise Karen made when she took her first reluctant sip, the candy cane was great either.
"They both, no offense to your parents, Foggy, sound like shit." Foggy snorted at that.
"No, you're right. There really just doesn't need to be a flavor for everything." He grins and sinks back into his chair.
"You've got that right. I saw bacon flavored chips the over day." Foggy sits up right quickly in excitement.
"Those are actually good! I tried them back in college when Matt and I got wasted and had the munchies and it sounded hilarious at the time to get them, and they were good!" Matt chuckled at the vague recollection of the incident, his memory was blurry from the alcohol, but by the end of the night they had been buying some very strange foods from musty corner stores, daring one another to eat them.
"That was the first time I ever ate snail." Matt admitted with a grin and a laugh.
"And the last time too, I bet! Escargo from seven-eleven was not something I knew that existed, but Christ were you sick afterwards." Karen stared between the two and laughed incredulously.
"I don't think the vomiting was entirely on the snail, I think that was probably also partially on the alcohol."
"You two were wild as hell in college, weren't you?" Karen laughed between the words, the stress bleeding away to an amused contentment. Matt smiled at that.
"Everyone is at least a bit crazy in college." Foggy gestures widely.
"I guess, but I don't really remember doing anything like getting wasted and taste testing the worst possible foods in the city." Karen rolled the chair closer in and rested her chin on her hands.
"Well, you should have! It builds character!" She barked back a short laugh before covering her face, grinning.
"Oh! Oh my God, I forgot! I never even told you what happened with Frank!" She gasps, surprised.
"Oh, shit yeah. What was up with that? Brett shouldn't even be looking for him, his charges were all cleared!" Foggy exclaimed.
"That's what I said! But they called me because they have a warrant out for his arrest for completely new crimes." Matt massaged his temples. His patience for Frank Castle had long run out, he didn't appreciate the fact that wherever the man went, corpse followed, and he had been given a free pass when his crimes were pinned on his old war buddy, and now he was out throwing it away again to kill some more assholes?
"What did he have to say about it?" Matt asked lowly. He had a feeling about this, he knew that if Frank was in New York killing again at the same time that new group was appearing, it sure as he'll wasn't a coincidence.
"He said that a new group, he called it the, uh-- Port Mafia? Some Japanese crime group is taking up a place here and he was saying something about nipping it in the bud." Matt nodded thoughtfully, thinking back to all he knew of this group, which was... a whole lot of nothing, honestly. He didn't really know much of this faction that was now making rounds through New York, just that they were here and no one seemed particularly happy about it.
"You know something there, buddy?" Foggy asked, rounding on him the moment he noticed the quiet contemplation.
"Honestly? Not really. I've heard about them, but right now... I haven't exactly had the time to go out and look for anything." Foggy certainly seemed pleased that he hadn't been out much, and once again, Matt felt guilt. He had kept it all from Foggy for so long to try to keep him away from the danger of it all, but it had been counterproductive, leaving his closest friend stressed and betrayed feeling, like he had never known anything about Matt to begin with.
It wasn't true, of course, Foggy knew more about him than most, just not about the other guy. That's the way he had wanted it, and clearly that hadn't worked in his favour, considering the outcome.
"Frank sounded busy at the time, he was driving, I think, but he heard something about mutants working with them? There doesn't seem like much is known about them I'm general." Matt nods. Karen boots up her computer and begins clacking away on the keyboard.
"Are you going to try to find something?" Foggy is wary sounding, and for good reason. Fisk was a lot, and at the moment none of this had anything to do with them. Foggy likely wanted to stay that way, at least for a while.
Matt shared that sentiment, frankly.
"Yeah, Frank asked me to do some digging, nothing too deep, just to find something out about this group. He says he thinks it's only going to get worse from here on out with this." Matt pursed his lips. He agreed with Frank, as much as he hated to admit it. Leaving this to fester will on worsen it, and if it's true that they have mutants on their side, it complicates things greatly.
"You sure you should be getting involved with this?" Foggy asked carefully. Matt knew how Karen would reply the moment the words left his mouth.
"I was involved with this the second Brett called me." And she was right.
The wind is harsh against his mask, whiping and yanking, wanting to rip it free from his face and into its clutches, but it holds steady in it'd place. Peter's body is thrust upwards, feet first as he let's go over the webbing, flying through the air in an arc before he begins to descend, the tell tale feeling of gravity yanking down his stomach as he falls, body shifting so that he is moving face first downwards.
The city is as lively as usual, cars honking and fighting their way through traffic, a man delivering pizza on a bike waves at him, and as Peter shoots another web out, hitting a building, he waves back at the man with a whoop as he once again is flying back through the air at great speeds.
His blood is rushing, and the wind is overwhelming along with the usual stink of the cities smog-- but even over all of that, he can still smell the thick, heavy, oppressive smell of smoke.
When he eventually gets there, he finds that the cops and, more interestingly, Homeland Security are already there, roping off the crumbling warehouse that seems to have long since been put out, given the parked firetrucks and their unraveled hoses.
He makes he way over with a hop in his step, the cop that he passes by to get in making no fuss at his presence, just a tired sigh and the shake of his head.
Ahead are two short women having a clearly unpleasant conversation. The darker skinned woman with the chin length curly hair is looking a little wild, her eyes intense and face twitching as the long haired, pale woman gestures wildly, camera in hand.
"Hey! Sorry, I don't mean to interrupt, but is everything alright here? Crazy fire!" Both the women's head snap in his direction, and they both suddenly look like they've eaten something sour. Peter puts his hands up in surrender.
"Great, Spider-Man, just what I needed. More Vigilantes." The curly hair woman says tersely.
"Er, sorry, I can go if you want me to, it's just that I could smell the smoke and was coming to see if everything is okay. Though, the fire is out..." the long haired woman let's out a breath like a deflating balloon.
"It was put out hours ago. And we don't need any vigilante help with this matter." The woman with the curly hair, who he now sees from the clip pinned to her suit is agent Dinah Madani of Homeland Security, glares not so subtly at the other woman.
"Well, I think you need someone's damn help, consider this group keeps fucking killing people, and frankly dead bodies shouldn't be washing up like treasure maps in a damn bottle." Peter's eyes widen and they must both notice that he stands a little straighter at that.
"What." Agent Madani less asks and more demands.
"O-oh! Well, it's just that I've heard of those people too, lately. Everyone that I run into is talking about them. Did they burn this building down." Peter gets a better look at the second woman's face now that she's facing him, and she's incredibly familiar, however he finds he can't quite put a name to the face.
"See? That's another vigilante who's heard of them. Luke has had run ins with these fucker themselves, and some dickhead has been tailing me, thinking he's a hell of a lot sneakier than he is." She snaps, pointing accusingly at the agent.
"Yeah? And how much exactly do you know, Jones? I sure as hell don't know shit, no one does." Peter can't help but look frantically between the two, the tension reaching a boiling point. They both look about ready to bite the others face off.
"Um..."
"Frank would know more, for fucksake. Or Daredevil, wherever the fuck he is. I know you have a directly line to Castle, which is a he of lot more than anyone else, and it's clear he's been here, considering the cops are parading around with a damn warrant for him and not the assholes moving in here!" Something clicks in his mind, and suddenly this is making a lot more sense.
"Oh! Your Jessica Jones! Man, I was so confused for second." They stare at him, disbelievingly like he's a complete idiot, and maybe that was kinda warranted given the circumstances.
"Uh, well I can keep an eye out? I have a guy in the chair... maybe he'll be able to find something out about this whole thing? Or I could ask Mr Stark..." His voice peters off under the women's scrutiny.
"What the fuck is a 'guy in the chair'?" Peter perks up at the question.
"A guy in chair is the computer guy, the one in the ear piece telling you where to go and stuff, you know?" From the look Jessica offers, she doesn't, and Madani doesn't seem like her mind is even entertaining the words that leave his mouth, which he isn't particularly offended by right now.
"You have a guy in an earpiece telling you where to go?" She questions, and it sounds way too accusatory for the subject matter.
"Well, not usually, but still! Point is he's good with computers and hacking into things most people couldn't!" Jessica still seems uninterested in him, and turns back to Madani.
"Call Frank." Sudden bustling erupts behind him as a shout emanates from the wreckage.
"Found another!" Cops and Homeland Agents filter in with their big fancy cameras and special equipment.
"I can't I've been trying for hours and he's not picking up. His phone is off, I think. Either way, we're done here," she's starting in the direction the others left to, walking quickly before turn back once more to shout back at them.
"Leave now, and if you find anything, report it through a tip line, don't get involved with this directly or I'll arrest you!" With that, Madani disappears into the wreckage, leaving Peter and Jessica alone with the shouting seagulls.
"I kind of get the feeling she may dislike Vigilantes." Peter concludes aloud, and with the exasperated noise Jessica makes before setting off in the opposite direction to leave, he thinks that they both may just not like him.
Peter watches a seagull chew on a fry, forlornly, and rubs his hands together.
"You should get going, man, she's not bluffing." The cop he passed to get in says, and Peter jolts. Looking at the cop, he's eating fries, likely only his luchbreak with the food resting on the hood of his car.
"Oh, right... yeah, she doesn't seem like the type of person to bluff." He laughs nervously and takes off in a run, yanking himself into the and back to the streets of New York.
Just below he spots Jessica craning her neck up to watch him pass. He waves. She does not wave back to him.
"Karen?" He asks to the open air.
"Yes, Peter?" She replies instanteously. He lands atop a building, which he finds after leaning over the side is the Daily Bugle headquarters. It's a tad ironic, he thinks.
"Could you call Ned?" He settles over the edge and sits, leaning back on his arms and sighing.
"Of course, Peter."
The call comes through.