superpierce: so wait is Tony stark Iron Man yet
Re: You'll have to wait until the "Armor Wars" arc to find out.
Blaze1992: So basically she has a Harley Quinn mode if pissed off or doesn't get her nookie time?
Re: Not necessarily. Harleen Quinzel is a mentally unhealthy, and unstable individual, and her abusive co-dependent relationship with the Joker doesn't help matters. Athena's rather unique case on the other hand is somewhat healthier by comparison because she has a loving family surrounding her, though as for what caused her mind to fracture…
Darklink1011: would be kind of funny if foxhound hired Athena.
could have Otacon and her have a geek brainstorm on ideas for Virgil's suit.
Re: That's a possibility, though things could also go a completely different way.
If you want to split hairs, technically it isn't Virgil's suit, it's technically on loan. Also, Otacon doesn't have any part of the Nanosuit R&D, that's up to people like Dr. Yumeno, and the people at CryNet who reverse-engineered the suit in the first place; Otacon's role is more along the lines of "tactical support".
OmegaDelta: You can say anything bad about moxxi but ypu cam say she is not a good mother to her kids. Wonder if Luther has a plan to get athena and will the clown die? Keep up the good work.
Re: Well for one thing, it helps that they aren't all stranded on a failed mining colony. That's why everyone from Borderlands is somewhat "softer" than their videogame counterparts. As for Luthor, he's interested in her potential talent, but he isn't the sort to put all his eggs in one basket. As for the Joker, Virgil's smart enough not to go anywhere the Clown Prince of Crime would logically, or at least as-logically as anything associated with the Joker can be, and the moment he showed up, unless he could get a guaranteed headshot and paint the wall behind the Joker's head a very disgusting color, he'd haul ass; the complete opposite of those poor schmucks from that talk show in The Dark Knight Returns who all just STUCK AROUND long-enough to get Joker gassed.
Fireofargentis: i really like the chapter but quick question, wth happened to Zatanna and Megan? they were there then poff! no even a good bey aor something, kinda weird
Re: Well, given Virgil and Athena had started "canoodling" right in front of them and the prior was pulled behind a locked door by the latter, the two of them felt a biiiiit awkward sticking around, so they just chose to leave before they heard anything they shouldn't have. Plus, they exchanged phone numbers, so they can ring him up any time.
Jebest4781: Great chapter as always and can't wait for Gaige and Athena to meet up. God Vergil is gonna need therapy when dealing with their encounter
Re: You say that as though he doesn't already need therapy.
xhanti.m70: Interesting chapter... But one question.
When are we going to get to the actual high stakes and no quips or Deadpool-esque humor in them.
As in actual serious moments without any sexual innuendos or dirty humor.
I can't speak for anyone else, but I actually liked the naive and innocent M'gann in YJ season 1.
Again... I like humor, but over saturation of it can kill a good story. The start of this story was a good example of high stakes and gritty storytelling in this story was when Virgil was still in New York.
When do we get back to that kind of drama?
Re: The "high stakes" you're searching for will take place when Virgil/Night Snake/Washington is "built up" to the point that he can handle high stakes. When he's with a team of agents stronger than he is, he can "afford" to banter because he has a safety net, but once his skillbase is built up and he has more responsibility thrust upon him, we'll see some serious action.
The big reason things were so-serious in NYZ was because if you made one mistake, you were Infected, and that meant you were pretty much fucking screwed. Anywhere else by-comparison would be like "Easy Mode", but still a "slog", though not to the point that to Virgil it feels like "Level Grinding".
I hope the upcoming chapter will be more to your liking as I plan to put in a little more action, but also a hint of world development.
*NO REST FOR THE WICKED*
With Maine off in the front reading, apparently holding no real interest in what Virgil had gotten up to, all who really needed entertaining was Connie who seemed genuinely interested in what he'd done over his quote/unquote "vacation".
That on top of waiting for the cue to use the runway, and there wasn't much Virgil could do anyway.
Once again, the version of events he told was heavily redacted, if only to preserve Zatanna and M'gann's privacy. He wasn't sure how much reach Re-l's resources had, but he doubted his activities over the past couple days had been ignored by his handlers.
"Geez, sounds like you had a rough time," Connie winced.
"Yeah, well, what happened, happened," Virgil said rubbing his pectoral. "What about you? How'd things go with the rad scrubbing?"
"Pretty well all things considered. We got a little irradiated, but there wasn't any permanent damage. If you hadn't lunged at Radioactive Man like a tick on steroids, I feel like things could've gotten a lot harier."
"And you're sure we don't know where Radioactive Man wandered off to?"
"As far as Russia's concerned, the guy's a rogue agent. Unlike American 'grandstanders', supervillain types like him from overseas know how to keep their heads down. Don't worry, though, the next time he shows up, we'll nail him."
"If it's our job, anyway," Virgil conceded.
In all honesty, he didn't really feel obligated to hunt down the Radioactive Man, and he didn't have anything against the Russians in particular either since he moonlighted for the Russian Mafia. However, if the opportunity did present itself, he'd take the guy down if only so a living nuke with feet couldn't make its way back onto American soil.
Just because he wasn't a red-white-and-blue-all-the-time-wearing patriot didn't mean he didn't care enough about his country that he'd let mushroom clouds pop up if he could actually do something to prevent it.
*NO REST FOR THE WICKED*
New Jersey Airspace
November 22, 8:56 EST
"Before you start showing me how this equipment works, I think its important I know about where I'll actually be going," Virgil stated as the plane they were on left the runway, ascending to cruising altitude.
"Alright, I can handle that," Connie answered with a nod, pulling an iDroid from her pocket before putting it on the table between them, closing the shades around them and dimming the lights before booting the device up, a picture of a large college campus appearing on a holographic screen between them. "Ivy University, located in Ivy Town, Massachusetts, was founded sometime after 1954 by graduates of Harvard University and earned its name from the Ivy League, not necessarily from Ivy Town. Like all Ivy League schools, Ivy University is known for its academic excellence, selectivity in admissions, and social elitism."
"Oh so it's one of those places," Virgil groaned with an eye-roll.
"Dr. Palmer's identity as The Atom isn't all that widely-known yet since the man is still fine-tuning his shrinking tech, though rumors have begun to fly to this effect after the kidnapping of his nephew who, as you already know, is working with his uncle to quantify the meta-human abilities he manifested during his rescue."
"Peter Parker lives in Gotham, right? How's he getting to Ivy U with enough frequency that we know he'll be there on a schedule."
"Since Dr. Palmer has close ties with STAR Labs, he's been able to get his nephew limited access to the Zeta Tube network, a web of interconnected Eisen Rosen Bridge generators that allow for instantaneous transport anywhere there's a Zeta Tube array in place that is used heavily by the Justice League to aid in their global mobilization," Connie answered. "Peter can only go between Gotham and Boston, but for his purpose that's all he needs."
"And my job is to stop him from becoming…"
"A hopeless loser with no friends because he puts everything into a superhero identity he cobbled together as a teenager, basically," Connie answered with a shrug.
"Yes, because teenagers with superhuman abilities are just known for their level-headed nature…" Virgil trailed off. "You have a file on Parker on that thing? Because if his powers have given him a big head, I'm going to need every piece of info I can get to bring him back to Earth."
"Got it right here," Connie answered with a nod as she worked the interface.
*NO REST FOR THE WICKED*
"Hmmm… Well, he hasn't put anyone through a wall since he got these powers, so at least he's got that going for him," Virgil hummed after going over the most-recent info in Peter Parker's dossier. "And given the guy looks like bully fodder, that's saying something!"
"I agree, he definitely looks like he has a semi-permanent timeshare with his own locker," Connie hummed. "Anyway! Onto the fun stuff," she said holding up the mask from earlier. "This, is a FaceCamo mask. It uses the same technology as the OctoCamo suit, only in addition to being able to camouflage itself to different environments, it also allows the user to disguise themselves as another person, should they need to disguise themselves in a public area."
"And it actually works?" he asked incredulously.
"Oh trust me, the original model was way clunkier than this," Connie answered confidently. "That being said, not only was the old version able to fool customs in Eastern Europe during a national state of emergency, it was also able to fool Raven Sword; one of the best PMCs in the world in its heyday. So yeah, FOXHOUND has a lot of faith in the Mk. II."
"And who will I be posing as when I'm wearing this thing?" he asked as he slipped it over his head, quickly realizing it was a custom fit with how-seamlessly it conformed to every angle of his skull, chin, and neck.
"Special Agent Washington," she chuckled with a bit of mirth as she raised a mirror. "Real name: David Washburn," she said as Virgil let out a startled - "WHOA!" –when the masked face before him morphed into one he didn't recognize.
The face staring back at him was that of an older man -or at least older than him- in his mid-20s with lightly-tanned skin like his own, albeit a little more weathered with some wrinkles around the eyes, making him look world-weary. His hair, which the FaceCamo mask had sprouted, was dirty blond and cropped short at the sides, a scraggly beard to match lining his jaw with bits of copper-colored hair mixed in giving him a more-mature look only one with a beard could have. His eyes, which before were bright red, were now a dark hazel with flecks of green thrown into the mix.
"Holy crap…" Virgil gawped as he looked at himself, tapping at his cheek only to flinch back when it felt exactly like normal skin. "Jesus!" he yelped as he felt around his lips.
"Pretty wild, huh?" Connie said with a chuckle as Virgil reached into his mouth, feeling along his teeth and lips. "Yeah, just like the Sneaking Suit, the FaceCamo mask adheres to the muscles on your face, with self-repairing cloth forming an opening around your lips. Wouldn't be a very good disguise if you couldn't open your mouth."
"And you're sure this thing won't glitch out if I sneeze or something," he asked feeling along his nose, only to realize his nostrils too were unobstructed.
"Don't worry. That issue got resolved after the Mk. I left Beta."
"Wait, seriously? I was joking!"
"Moving on, here are your credentials. They're completely legit and they'll hold up under scrutiny as long as you act like a grown man and not a randy teenager," she said handing over a black leather wallet. Inside was a badge with the FOXHOUND insignia on it, and an ID with "Washburn's" face, name, date of birth, and so-on on it. "As for the hardware you'll be taking in, this one you'll use if you're feeling merciful," Connie said holding up a Windurger No.2 with a built-in silencer. "On the other hand, if you've still got some pent-up anger from your botched vacation, you can use this one," she said holding up an URAGAN-5.
"Christ! Isn't that a little overkill?" he gawped as Connie loaded literal deerslug into the cylinder.
"No kill… like overkill," Maine grumbled from up front. "Heh. Heh. Heh."
"If Maine punches somebody's head off this-mission, I will not be surprised."
*NO REST FOR THE WICKED*
"Next item on the agenda…" Connie hummed after he'd been briefed on how to take the FaceCamo on and off without pulling out any hair or skin. "This, is what you'll be wearing," she said laying a large garment bag on the table in front of her, opening up the zipper revealing a dark gray business suit, and then a box with a pair of black tactical dress shoes. "The suit is lined with silicon carbide discs, ceramic matrices, and accompanying laminates, the most cutting-edge body armor that CryNet and FOXHOUND have access to. Sewn between the fabric lining, it offers zero penetration from small arms fire. However… Let's just say that getting shot will still be a bitch and a half."
"What kinda bitch and a half are we talking?"
"You ever been hit by a paintball without adequate padding? Imagine that, just… a million times worse."
"Well then, I'll try not to get shot," he said rubbing his hand along the fabric.
"Also, this goes without saying, but your FaceCamo does not offer the same protection. They've got some stuff in R&D that can repair a brain after you get a third nostril, but between you and me… I think that's just a placebo to tide us over until their nanotech actually gets that good," she whispered.
"I'll be sure to keep that in mind, and my head down."
"As for the shoes, they're the same sort worn by the Secret Service but with sound-suppressing soles, thermal insulation, and an aramid fiber weave to slow down bladed weapons."
"That's actually a thing?"
"Hey, people find themselves blocking knives and shit with the soles of their shoes more-often than you think."
"I'll… take your word for it," Virgil hummed,
"Also, the heels are raised on the inside to give you a little extra height, that way you'll be taken a little more seriously."
"But wait, aren't I a little short to be a 'Stormtrooper'?" Virgil asked with a quirked brow.
"Hey, ninjas had historical height-and-weight requirements, so a secret agent having one too isn't all that weird," Connie shrugged.
"I think 'secret agent' is over-selling it a little," Virgil said with a flat stare.
"It isn't all that weird, actually. Your predecessor used FaceCamo to infiltrate Eastern Europe behind PMC lines during the Guns of the Patriots Incident. Only difference is, you'll be using FaceCamo to look older, not younger."
"Well, thank god my voice stopped cracking…"
"Oh, you don't need to worry about that. The FaceCamo has a built-in voice modulator so you'll sound closer to how you do in the Nanosuit. Don't try to give yourself any eccentric habits though; a cover ID's hard to keep up if you tack on too many bells and whistles."
"Wait, my voice changed?" he spoke in surprise, his hands going to his throat. "Huh… I guess you don't 'hear your own voice'," he hummed aloud. "Ahem. La-li-lu-le-lo," he sang, testing the words as they left his tongue. "Huh. Neat."
*NO REST FOR THE WICKED*
"Last item in your bag of goodies is this, the Solid Eye," Connie said holding up the high-tech-looking eyepatch; a serial number in muted gray was printed on the front, a small camera lens positioned below. "It's pretty much the same as the one Solid Snake used on his last mission to the Outer Haven, only this one's been hardened against microwaves; on the off-chance you take this thing into a microwave tunnel."
"I still can't believe that's a thing. Or that Snake even survived something like that," Virgil deadpanned. "Well, at least I won't have to worry about losing an eye if that ever happens."
"That" being the Solid Eye exploding from microwave exposure.
"The Solid Eye combines ENVG, Enhanced Night Vision Goggles, light amplification and imaging technology, and allows for binocular functionality. Although, not simultaneously, I'm afraid; whenever they tried, it became too big and bulky," she trailed off. "In addition, the NV capability can reveal things that most people would miss, like footprints left on the ground by enemy patrol routes. The Solid Eye can detect body temperature, heart rate, and sweat secretion to calculate a soldier's physical and emotional state, the camera itself utilizing fish-eye perception. Snake's model also corrected for far-sightedness. In addition, when heavy artillery such as tanks enter the field of view, it'll display their specifications and armaments."
"All that in this little thing?" Virgil asked as he affixed it to his left eye, fiddling with the controls on the side.
"Amazingly, yes. Of course, your Nanovision is far superior… but since the bioelectric draw of your ocular nanotech would suck you dry and possibly leave you braindead, without the Nanosuit to provide power, if you want 'Superman Eyes' you'll have to rely on external hardware."
"I'll be sure to keep that in mind," he nodded. 'In all seriousness, aside from the heavy hitters like Superman, Wonder Woman, and Green Lantern, just how many guys in the Justice League could handle a microwave tunnel? Sure, Snake survived it for three minutes, but he had a foot in the grave already and had nothing to lose. I doubt even Batman could power through something like that,' he thought idly. " . . . Connie, there's something I need to ask you."
"Shoot."
"Just how much do my superiors know about what happened on my trip out of town?" he asked, narrowing his eyes ever-so-slightly.
"Well… More or less everything," she admitted awkwardly.
"Explain… If you're allowed to at least," he conceded, since he couldn't really force anything out of her even if he wanted.
"Um… Well… Since you went a liiiiittle AWOL on us when you skipped town, we've kiiiiinda been using the Codec Nanomachines in your ears to… spy on you."
" . . . So then you guys know everything then," he said after realizing what that meant.
"Not all of us. Ms. Mayer just briefed me on what happened because you needed to be made aware we were eavesdropping on you when you went off the reserve the way you did," she explained. "Though technically it was more of a retroactive eavesdropping."
" . . . Huh?" he asked confusedly.
"Alright, here's what I know. The Codec Nanomachines in your ears were recording whatever it was that was going on around you, and F.I.L.S.S. was compiling that on a database. It didn't really become important until you began clashing with super-criminals, especially after what happened with the D.U.P. Until that happened, there wasn't really any reason for a human to know what you were up to until you started kicking up red flags."
"What are these things powered by again? Because that has to be a lot of recoded data to hold onto."
"Heat and motion. Crazy, I know, but it's really energy efficient. Just like those tracker fillings you can get installed if you're so-inclined."
"Maybe later…"
"Still, it's pretty wild what you got into. Giovanni Zatara's daughter and Martian Manhunter's niece in one 'weekend'… You definitely live in strange times."
'I guess Re-l hid the fact that I'm magical from her,' he thought to himself. "So… What does the boss want to do with this information, now that she has it?"
"You know… There's an old saying that comes to mind," Connie hummed. "The best spy will be everyone's friend, not a shadowy figure in the corner," she recited.
It took Virgil a couple seconds to figure out why he was being told something cryptic like that, but once he'd figured it out…
"I am not, spying on them!" he growled slamming his fist on the table.
"Of course we aren't asking you to do that," Connie waved off. "If we did ask you to spy on them and they had any reason to suspect you, Wonder Woman's lasso would make you squeal like a stuck pig."
"Connie…!" he growled.
"Wait wait, hear me out," she said raising her hands. "Look, you've found yourself in a position that most government agencies would kill to have a spy find themselves in. The closest anyone else has is the Justice League liaison, and that woman doesn't budge or buckle for anyone."
"Grrrrr…!"
"All I'm saying is… if any of them start to 'backslide' into full-on villainy… you'll let us know. Because even though the Justice League only has a couple dozen people, some of the heavy-hitters can still level a small country if they really wanted to. So what we're asking for is…" she paused, mulling over her words. "We aren't asking you to betray anybody, we just want you to watch them, 'keep them honest' if that makes any sense."
" . . . Fine. Tell the boss I'm willing to do that much," Virgil conceded, happy he wasn't being asked to betray anyone.
And they were right to want progress reports. As far as intelligence agencies went, the goings-on of the superhero community were a bit of a blind spot, so any sort of early-warning about which heroes were about to go rogue would be invaluable. Just because none of the A-List had gone rogue yet, didn't mean they couldn't do so sometime in the future.
Heck, how Superman would react if anything happened to Lois Lane or Jimmy Olsen, aside from kidnapping, was the subject of much debate and speculation, both in government and public circles, and Virgil himself was of the camp that Earth would have a "God-King Superman" scenario on their hands if the Man of Steel ever went off the deep end.
But that was neither here nor there.
"As long as you don't break the NDA you have with us, Mayer doesn't really care what you do in your free time. If you wanna hang around with magical girls and aliens, that's cool. You might be a super-soldier mercenary… but you're still a kid too, so try to have a little fun while you're able. Don't live your whole life for the mission like Snake did," she said somberly. "H&RB's medical nanotech may've slowed his accelerated aging down and brought his original nanotech under control, but he'll be lucky to reach 2015, let alone 2020. Sure, he's only in his mid-30s, but cloning and nanotech do not mix."
"I'll keep that in mind…" Virgil answered, putting the facts of Snake's mortality at the back of his mind. "And tell the boss she doesn't have to worry. I'll keep my mouth shut, and I'll lock my mind up like Fort Knox now that I know a telepath who can tell me if I'm even doing it right."
"I'm sure she'll appreciate that."
*NO REST FOR THE WICKED*
Massachusetts Airspace
November 21, 9:55 EST
"Hey," Connie hummed towards the end of their flight.
"Yeah?"
"What's that you've been playing around with?" she asked watching him shoot toothpicks out of an ordinary-looking fountain pen.
"The Mandate of Heaven," he answered sending another toothpick flying across the cabin.
" . . . Well that's really fucking cryptic," Connie said after a moment.
"I think that was Rackham's whole point," Virgil said as he went across the room and reloaded before going back to his seat and firing at another improvised target. "Sooo… We're going to get to Ivy Town pretty soon. What time will I confront Mr. Parker?"
"Mm… Around eight I figure. Dr. Palmer tends to test his nephew when there's less risk of passerby walking in on them."
"Eight?! But that's ten hours away! What the heck am I supposed to do for ten hours!?"
"Well, you could take a tour of Ivy University, get a lay of the land in case a fight breaks out."
"And if anyone asks why a sixteen year-old is wandering around?"
"That you're giving the place a once-over for your own college days!"
"And why do you think a fight will break out?"
"Well, Ms. Mayer might've implied that you're something of a 'trouble magnet'~"
"Of fucking course she did…" Virgil groaned. "What will you be doing?"
"Eh, I've got time off, so I'll probably bar hop."
"It isn't even noon yet!"
"Hey, it's five o'clock somewhere in the world~"
"Uuuuugh…"
*NO REST FOR THE WICKED*
Ivy Town, Massachusetts
November 21, 10:30 EST
Upon arriving in Ivy Town, Maine, Connie, and Virgil proceeded to rent a nondescript van with tinted windows and tossed their gear into the back. Since Virgil was taking point in the night's operation, he was the only one with actual gear, though the two Freelancers were still armed and equipped.
Since wandering around Ivy University for ten hours would be a bit overkill, Otacon had given Virgil a sub-mission to tide him over until it was closer to the time period of Peter Parker's arrival; perusing the local bookstores for DVDs and Manga.
"Can't you just have this stuff mailed in? Or in digital format?" Virgil subvocalized as he perused the shelves of a Books-A-Million, Otacon's feed coming in via a micro-camera set in the bridge of the spectacles he was now wearing.
"I could, but there's just something about real paper between my fingertips that feels so cathartic."
"Well, I never really got into Manga during foster care, so I'll just take your word for it," Virgil muttered to himself.
"What?! Why!?" Otacon asked, aghast.
"Moved around too much in foster care, didn't want to carry a truckload of random crap with me wherever I went."
"But what about the State family? You lived with them for two years without things derailing horribly, didn't you?"
"Yeah, up until Mercer dropped a dirty bomb and turned Manhattan into a Lovecraftian nightmare."
"Oh… Right…" he trailed off nervously. "Hey, don't worry kid. As soon as you're ready, your first big job will be bringing Blackwatch down… At least once the threat of the Mercer Virus expanding across the entire world is any less dire."
"Sure. Thanks," Virgil said half-heartedly as he perused the Manga in front of him. 'Hmm…'
*NO REST FOR THE WICKED*
Time went by, the sun setting in the distance, the air developing a nice winter chill.
Virgil had never been to a college campus, but he had to say, Ivy U had a nice-looking grounds. He'd never really considered advanced education before now, but given he had a legit and nondescript career lined up for him, even if one was just a cover, he had to wonder… Was he expected to pursue an advanced education?
Most of the campus had gone dark with only streetlights offering shafts of light in the dark. That the R&D building Dr. Palmer was stationed in was at the edge of campus would make things easier, at least on the approach, but if trouble came back for Dr. Palmer and/or his nephew, it wasn't exactly a defensible position.
Still, nothing in the intel suggested there would be any trouble, so Virgil had to hope that his bad luck was behind him.
He wasn't banking on it.
*NO REST FOR THE WICKED*
Ivy University
November 21, 20:02 EST
Inside Dr. Palmer's private laboratory, whose security measures were heightened after his altercation with the Russians, Peter Parker was clad in a pair of black speedos and a pair of sneakers, a number of electrodes stuck to his body and a data-collector on his hip. At the moment he was crawling along the wall in an attempt to study just what it was that allowed him to cling to sheer surfaces; even while he had shoes on.
"Well, we can rule out filiform hairs since your footwear is sticking to walls too…" Dr. Palmer hummed as Peter tentatively rose onto his feet, yet still maintaining perfect equilibrium as though the wall were flat ground. "It's quite possible your Metahuman ability allows you to manipulate intermolecular 'van der Waals' forces, but we'd need more testing before coming to any sort of real conclusion."
"I'm still trying to figure out how my spider-powers gave me abs," Peter said running his hands along his now-flat stomach. True, he wasn't a "fatty" before he got his powers, but now you could grate cheese off those things.
"Any of the girls notice~?"
"No. After I got back from being a Russian hostage, everyone's been walking on eggshells around me," Peter deadpanned. "My school uniform isn't skin-tight, so the only time anyone would notice is in the locker room, but I guess even the bullies have the sense to leave the supervillain hostage alone."
"Well, it's good to know you're keeping your head down," a third voice said.
"Who said that!?" Dr. Palmer shouted as Peter fell off the wall in panic, the man throwing his lab coat aside revealing the Atom Suit underneath.
"I did," the owner of the third voice said stepping forward from a corner of the lab. He was a man in his mid-20s with lightly-tanned skin, dirty blond hair cropped short at the sides, a scraggly beard with bits of copper-colored hair in it, his eyes a dark hazel with flecks of green. His attire was a dark gray business suit with a white shirt, black tie, and black tactical dress shoes. "Mr. Parker. Glad to see you're in good health."
"Stay away from my nephew!" Palmer shouted as he leapt up, the two rings of an Electron Shell surrounding him as he donned his helmet and lunged at the suit-clad man.
In response, the intruder drew a high-intensity flashlight and shone it at the space where Dr. Palmer disappeared. A moment later he reappeared against the far wall after violently returning to full size, falling flat on his face with an- "Oof!" -a moment later.
"If you're quite finished…" the man said flashing his badge, the FOXHOUND emblem catching the two's eyes, "I'm here to check up on Mr. Parker."
"And who are you supposed to be?" Peter asked warily. "How'd you get past security."
"Name's David Washburn. I'm your Metahuman Liaison," the man answered. "As for the security, I had a keycard," he said waving his 'in' to Palmer's lab, courtesy of his infiltration package.
"Why're you here?" he asked defensively, Ray slowly recovering in the background.
"Let me answer your question with another question," he said turning to Dr. Palmer. "Why do you think everyone's been leaving Peter Parker alone instead of gutting him like a trout in Area 51 or something?" Washington asked. "It's because we kept what he's become off-the-record," he said slapping his hand to the back of his badge. "People will find out eventually, but as long as he's 'Foxhound Property', no other agency will mess with him. Not with word of Solid Snake's successor starting to go around."
Something else he'd been briefed on during the flight. He was nowhere near the skill level of Solid Snake, but the Nanosuit helped bridge the gap, and as long as people imagined "Night Snake" as some kind of super-soldier like his predecessors, he was a tactical deterrent in his own right. Hopefully by the time he actually reached the skill level "everyone" thought he was, no-one would notice they'd been duped.
"So you're… what, my handler?" Peter asked, getting a little more comfortable with Washburn's presence.
"Something like that," 'David' shrugged. "We have some idea what you're capable of, but we'd really like the full picture."
"Peter, don't say anything. I'm going to call Hank's contact and make sure this guy's legit," Ray stated, going to his computer.
"By the way, Special Agent Washington sends his regards."
"You know Washington?" Peter asked excitedly.
"He wanted to make sure you were taken care of after what you went through," Washburn replied.
" . . . Alright, you can talk to him a little," Dr. Palmer sighed to his nephew before going back to his computer.
"Sooo… Is everyone okay?" Peter asked worriedly. "Everyone who came after me, I mean."
"They're out of quarantine if it means anything."
He'd been briefed on what he could and couldn't say.
"Oh. That's good to hear."
"Sooo… Spider powers give you six-pack abs?" Washburn said pointing down.
"Oh! Uh, well, Ray says it could be a change in my metabolism, or my body fat was burned away as my full-body mutations started to maturate," Peter answered with a blush, arms covering his mid-section.
"Full-body mutations?"
"Oh, uh, you know. Strength. Speed. Agility. Wall-climbing."
"Like what, the 'Magnificent Man-Spider'?"
"I would've gone for that, but with the whole 'Man-Bat' thing back in Gotham I was thinking of going with 'The Spectacular Spider-Man'; two words joined by a hyphen."
"Well, at least that'll make your name visually distinctive on merchandise."
"Yeah. That and I don't think anyone on the Justice League has a hyphen in their name."
"Justice League… Aiming a little high, aren't you?"
"Well, you know what they say; go big or go home."
"I just got back with my contact. He's legit," Dr. Palmer hummed. "Sooo… You're here to check up on my nephew after what happened with the Russians. Why here and not at home? How'd you even know about… this?" he asked gesturing to the testing equipment around them.
"First off, Peter's aunt and uncle aren't cleared to know if they weren't told already, and their apartment isn't exactly 'secure'. Second, Peter's increased activity through the Zeta Tube network isn't exactly subtle," he said causing the Parker boy to wince. "And anyway, main reason I'm here other than getting a progress report, is to make sure becoming a metahuman hasn't impacted his academic lifestyle."
"What, you think I can't keep my grades up and be a superhero?" Peter asked sounding offended.
"That scowl of yours would be more intimidating if you had pants on," David said flatly, prompting a blush from Peter before he ran off to grab some clothes. "Moving on, unless you're really smart, I don't think you'll fare better than most no-name vigilantes who drop everything they're doing to pursue a career in superheroing."
"You have any names?" Peter asked.
"What part of 'no-name vigilantes' did you miss?" David asked irritably. "They didn't make it into the big league, not even the minor league. Most kids your age without a mentor to back them up wind up dead in a gutter, in the morgue, and god forbid they have powers but don't know how to use them because if they do and don't… Well… Let's just say there's big money on the black market for body parts from SPBs, and leave it at that."
At this, Peter gulped nervously.
"So!" David said clapping his hands. "I'm to assume you plan on becoming a superhero? Any estimates on your debut?"
"Not until we have a firm grasp of what his power do, how they do them, and why," Ray said firmly.
"It'd probably help if you discovered what his 'Kryptonite' was before some two-bit thief happens to come across it and put a bullet between your eyes," David said flatly.
"Well… I got my powers after being bitten by a genetically modified spider, so maybe pesticides?" Peter groused.
"Don't go huffing bug-bombs until you have enough meds lying around," David said just-as-flatly.
"Right…" he hummed.
"So, you say you're smart-enough to keep your grades up when you become a superhero, right?" David asked, Peter nodding his head. "Alright then. If you can keep a B+ average in all your classes, Foxhound will continue to cover for you."
"B+? Ha! I can keep an A- easy," Peter smirked.
"I'll hold you to that~" David purred, Peter having a look on his face that made him realize he'd "done goofed".
"And of course, we also expect you to go to college. Technical or university doesn't matter, we just want to make sure you have something to fall back on if anything happens that compromises your superhero career or you just decide to quit one day."
"Okay. But why do you care what I do with my life anyway?" Peter asked with a raised eyebrow.
"Maybe I care because I don't want to see a kid with a bright future put so much of himself into a damn spandex costume that he can't hold down a job, keep a girlfriend, and winds up spending the rest of his days sitting in a bathtub with the shower running crying his eyes out because his life's a complete, fucking, disaster."
" . . . He does raise a compelling point," Ray stated. "Peter, I get that having these powers makes the superhero lifestyle very tempting, but you don't have to do it."
"Are you kidding me? Gotham's a complete disaster! Maybe it isn't the 'armpit' everyone out-of-Gotham thinks it is, but Gotham's barely better than it was before the Batman showed up. Sure, there are less crime families, but with so many supervillains and serial killers running around… I want to make it better. With great power comes great responsibility," he stated, that last sentence sounding like he were reciting it from memory.
"Well, as long as you keep your grades up and are very choosy about who you tell, Foxhound is willing to cover you tangentially," David answered. "Just remember, the moment you oust yourself as Spider-Man, short of Men-in-Black-ing the entire Human race, you can't put that cat back in the bag."
"I'll keep that in mind," Peter hummed, the lights flickering before going out altogether, red emergency lights replacing them. "What's happening?!"
"Snake."
"What is it?" he subvocalized, turning on his heel and bringing a fingertip to his ear.
"Someone just cut the main power lines to your building," Otacon stated.
"We've got movement also," Connie added. "We've got four bogeys moving on your building. Should I have Maine intercept?"
"Dr. Palmer. Parker. We've got incoming," David stated dourly. "Do you want to run, or resist?"
"I'll fight," Peter said clenching his fist angrily. "I won't let these guys take me again."
"Okay. Pop quiz; do you know how to punch?"
"Hey, I might not be a bully, but I know how to hit someone in the face with a clenched fist."
"Do you know how to punch someone in the face without caving a skull in? Without breaking someone in half?" Washburn asked, prompting Peter to clam up. "Until you can control your own strength and know how much people can 'take', I don't want you fighting anyone. Foxhound can sweep an unintended manslaughter under the rug from the eyes of the law, but we can't hide any of that from you," he said eyeing him. "Dr. Palmer, you any good in a fight?"
"I know how to not kill anyone if that's what you're asking."
"Alright then," David said pulling out his Solid Eye and affixing it to his face. "Kill the emergency lighting. If these assholes want you or the kid, we'll make them fight for every god-damn inch."