Spider-Man crouched behind a billboard, surveying the scene below while he waited for his family. And what he saw was pretty strange. He had seen stranger, which well, said a lot about him and his life choices, but this was pretty weird, and yet somehow very apropos for New York City.
"Hey sweetie," Spinneret landed next to him. "What's the situation?"
"Well, pigeons!" He gestured to the scene below, and sure enough, Times Square was filled with pigeons careening down into a panicked crowd.
"You can't be serious." Spinneret was dumbfounded. "We're here to stop a group of pigeons?"
"I wonder if there's a name for that. Like how you have a murder of crows?"
"Peter, focus. How are we going to stop the pigeons?"
"Okay, first, secret identity. Let's not." Despite her mask, Peter knew she was rolling her eyes. "Second. I have no idea."
"Well that's just great."
"I mean, we could web them up, but I don't want to hurt them. Even if they are riddled with disease. And causing holy havoc."
People were yelling and shooing the birds off. One person screamed about their watch, and sure enough, a pigeon was flying up and away, a watch dangling from its beak.
"Hey guys!" Spiderling web-zipped to the billboard. "What'd I miss?"
"A group of pigeons have mastered the art of pick-pocketing."
"Huh. I wonder if there's another word for that, like a murder of—"
"Stop." MJ said. "I can't handle you two."
That's my girl. Peter beamed, and was about to remark about apples and trees until someone screamed "My eye!"
"Let's go!" He jumped from the billboard, his family close behind. So much for coming up with a plan.
Peter helped the crowd shoo-off the birds, and then he began to web a protective canopy over their heads. MJ helped while Annie focused on getting the birds far enough away from the crowd so her parents could work on the canopy.
"Everyone stay calm," he called. The crowd jostled and pushed. It was only a matter of time before someone fell and was hurt.
Peter felt an intense buzzing at the base of his skull; his spider-sense warning him of danger. He heard the sound of paper rustling, but the sound was eerily loud. And then there was the cooing. It echoed throughout Times Square, the volume unnaturally high.
Peter turned and looked up. There were storm clouds of pigeons swarming above.
Amid the coos and the rustling, he could hear laughter. The pigeons lowered, and he saw that they were carrying a person.
She was tall, thin, and wore long, black athletic pants and a worn, gray jacket. On the arms of the jacket were two long bars; one that spanned the length of her upper arm, and the other the length of her forearm, the elbow joint was left free. Her arms were outstretched and dozens of pigeons gripped the bar with their wiry feet. In a science-defying feet of strength, the pigeons gripping the bars supported her weight, giving her the power of flight.
The pigeons descended as she laughed, enjoying the ride. The woman's red sneakers touched the ground, and birds' feet released the bars.
Her face and hair were covered by a worn aviator hat and goggles. A green and purple neck gaiter covered the lower half of her face.
Peter had to give her credit. She was certainly committed to the "pigeon" theme. And he was sure that she was the one responsible for the thieving birds, and that she would be the key to stopping them. As his family worked on crowd control and the canopy, he studied their new foe. Of all of the animal themed villains he fought over the years, he was almost shocked that it took this long for a pigeon-themed malefactor to turn up.
With a dramatic flourish of her hands, the pigeons attacking the crowd stopped and instead circled the panicked group, indicating some type of psychic link between Red Shoes and the birds. MJ continued to spin her webs while Annie crouched, ready to take on something new.
"I am The Avian!" Red Shoes boomed.
Peter snorted. She really did commit. Sometimes a little bit of subtlety went a long way.
The Avian glared at him.
He raised his hands up, "Sorry, sorry, didn't mean to interrupt. Please continue." That got him some weird looks from the crowd and his family. He could understand that, after all, what type of hero told the villain to continue? Hell, he even said please!
"What," he shrugged. "I wanna see where this is going. Seriously, I can't be the only one?" Annie groaned, and MJ was too busy with the canopy to respond. Party poopers.
"Silence bug!" The Avian spat.
"Oh no, no, nope. You do not call me Bug. We're not there yet. Its Spider-man."
The Avian only laughed as her pigeons circled above.
"Hey, Red Shoes, how about we call off the birds, and leave these fine people alone? No one needs to get hurt here."
"I've a different idea. How about these 'fine people' hand over their wallets and jewelry, and then no one gets hurt. I'll even call off my pets."
Spinneret continued to spin the intricate canopy. Spiderling joined her mother. An attack was imminent, so it was best to be prepared. The canopy was attached to the buildings, overhangs, light-posts, signs; anything they could use. It was going to be a sticky mess, but hey, the webbing dissolved in about an hour. So, it was only a temporary mess. Besides, this was New York City. These streets had seen much worse than a little bit of web-fluid.
The Avian eyed his family and made a movement with her hand. Some of the birds broke away from their circling, and attacked MJ and Annie.
Both of them expertly dodged the attacks. But more birds began to join the melee. Annie and MJ began using their webbing, zipping here and there to avoid the birds. Peter lunged for the Avian, the key to stopping all of this. She was ready though, and a wall of pigeons barricaded their ridiculous leader. Peter did not want to hurt the birds, but his family was being attacked. He forced himself through the barricade, his body bombarded by wings, feathers, beaks and bird feet. He did not even want to know how much pigeon shit he was covered in, and was so thankful his mask covered his entire face and head.
He broke through the barrier. The Avian's posture tensed in fear, but she extended her arms out like wings, and the pigeons grabbed the bars, lifting her into the air.
Peter guessed that whatever gave her the link to the pigeons did not give her super-strength or fighting abilities. Those apparently went to the birds. He would have to significantly pull back his own strength for the Avian.
"Crap!" He heard MJ say. Peter turned and saw her fall, and his heart dropped, but she was able to twist and turn, controlling her fall. She landed safely, a dancer returning to the ground after a grand leap. His body was flooded with relief.
"Mom, you okay?"
"Out of web fluid!"
"Alright!"
Peter couldn't help but be impressed. Annie was dodging pigeons, protecting the crowd, and still managed to grab a couple of web cartridges for MJ. And MJ held her own in the process, keeping the ground secure. He was incredibly proud.
He followed the Avian's ascent. This would be tricky. How to best incapacitate a villain without hurting her or her flock(?) of pigeons in midair?
This was something they didn't teach you in school. Unless of course, you were one of the X-Men. Why wasn't I an X-man? He thought to himself.
Spider-Man was gaining on the Avian, when he heard MJ cry out "Spiderling!"
The panic in her voice made him veer away from their foe. He saw Annie, crouching on the ground, her hand on her head. Fear iced his veins. Did her blood sugar drop from all of the physical activity? Did that cause her to fall? He zipped towards his family.
Annie looked to be in almost a trance, but he didn't see any other signs of low blood sugar. Suddenly, she came out of the trance-like state.
"Bombs" she yelled, pointing at the Times Square Tower, and she leaped into action, heading towards the tower. His spider-sense sounded, an ice-pick in his skull. He turned to MJ, and saw her grimacing, knowing she felt it too. Annie's spider-sense was a lot more sensitive than Peter's and MJ's. She not only sensed danger before her parents, she had visions of it.
"Clear the area," he said. Spinneret nodded soberly, and Spider-Man followed his daughter to the tower.
She was perched behind a billboard, about a quarter of the way up the building, holding a palm-sized disk. It had a rectangular screen and a series of buttons around it. Annie was engrossed by the device, carefully clicking the buttons in a very specific order.
Spider-Man crawled down to his daughter. "Annie, be careful," he whispered.
"Secret identity," she said, eyes not leaving the disk. "There are more of these, I think four in total. Touch one, and just follow the prompts. It's not too bad, just tedious."
"Spiderling, go with your mother, I've got this."
"You need my help. There's probably a time limit to these bombs before they go off. We probably should have mom here too."
He could hear the panic happening out in the plaza. MJ was needed there. He squinted up, and could make out another disk about half-way up.
"If you get so much as a tingle of these things going off, you are out. You understand me?"
"Dad, I'm trying to concentrate."
Peter sighed and crawled up to the second disk, his body on alert for any sign these things would go off. If that happened, he was getting Annie out of here, Times Square be damned.
But the disabling of the bombs was strangely simple. Tedious, yes. The screens prompted him through a series of logic puzzles, mazes, and almost a tetras-type game. Hell, it would actually be fun if the stakes were a lot lower. He and Annie were able to disable all four bombs before any of them went off. It was as if the goal was to distract them. Peter wondered if this was the Avian's escape plan, but that didn't quite fit. The tech of the bombs looked sophisticated, complicated, and incredibly expensive. It didn't match a villain who relied on the flight of pigeons. But who knows? Appearances were deceiving. Perhaps she was the quirky, mad-scientist billionaire type. He sighed. He was so sick of the mad-scientist billionaire type.
When they finished disabling the bombs, they crawled out from behind billboards.
Times Square was a deserted mess. The web canopy was starting to dissolve in some places, and the street and sidewalks were littered with people's personal belongings; purses, shopping bags, and even shoes were abandoned. He saw the police had gotten involved and helped evacuate the area. He saw fire trucks, ambulances, and other emergency personal ready to help.
Spinneret swung back into the perimeter, landing next to him and Annie. She looked exhausted, her bun coming loose, and her costume dirty. Crowd control must have been brutal.
MJ embraced her family, they all verified that they were okay. Spider-Man let the authorities know the bomb threat was resolved, and turned over three of the discs. He was going to hold onto the fourth for his own studies. And the Avian, of course, was no where to be found.
"Oh no!" Annie cried, looking up.
Peter followed her gaze and saw that a lone pigeon was trying to fly away, but his leg was caught in a strand of webbing; tethered to a stop sign. The bird cooed in distress, his erratic attempts to break free were all in vane. Before Peter could react, something wizzed through the air, slicing the web strand, setting the bird free. Whatever it was landed with a clank on the street, a bat-like shape glinting in the afternoon light.
"I told you to give those back," he snapped, harsher than intended. Annie took a step back in surprise, and MJ placed a hand on his shoulders.
"She's only trying to help. Let's drop it and go home."
Annie was already chugging down some juice, eying him wearily. Her lack of talk-back showed just how tired she felt. He was shocked at his own spike of anger, and decided to drop it for now, to avoid a fight. They were all exhausted, covered in sweat, feathers, and bird shit. And the crook got away.
Yeah, he'd leave the knives for another day. But she was returning them, dammit, and he figured it was time to have talk with Normie about giving his daughter weapons. Goblin weapons no less.
"Everyone have enough webfluid to make it home?"
MJ nodded, Annie said she needed a refill. He was likely running low himself. They refilled their webshooters and started home.
"Guess the first thing I'll do when we get home?" MJ said "shower," Annie said "eat."
"Nope! Those will be second and third. The first will be looking up the word for a group of pigeons."
"Yes!" Annie said. "That was driving me nuts. It's probably just a flock or something."
MJ sighed. "Yes, you could say a 'flock' of pigeons, but there are actually a lot of different words you can use. You can also say a flight of pigeons if they are flying together. But it also depends on the type of pigeon. For example, a group of carrier pigeons is called a 'homing of pigeons' and a group of feral pigeons can be a 'dropping."
Annie voiced his thoughts. "Mom, how do you know that?"
MJ shrugged. "I auditioned for a bird watcher a while back."
"Huh, that's pretty cool." His wife never ceased to amaze him. "So what will we call the Avian's pigeons?"
"Oh, definitely a dropping," Annie said. "I don't even want to know how much bird shit is on me."
"No you don't. And language young lady. Alright. Today we fought the Avian and her Dropping."
"Ew, dad, it's gross when you say it like that."
She was right, it sounded pretty gross. "Alright, fine. MJ, you pick, you're the expert here. What do you think?"
"I think you guys are weird," she chuckled.
"Says the pigeon encyclopedia." To Peter's surprise, Annie laughed.
What a day. They were covered in sweat, bird shit, the villain got away; his daughter was defiantly in possession of goblin weaponry, and he was heading home to a stack of papers to grade, and his own dissertation to catch up on. But moments like this, swinging above the city, the sun setting, surrounded by his family and their laughter made it all okay. It was a good day.