[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/c9OstCS.jpeg[/img][/center][indent][sub][color=gray][b]MARVELS: Streets of New York Presents:[/b][/color][color=lightgray] THE SPECTACULAR SPIDER-MAN[/color][/sub][sup][right][b][color=gray]ISSUE #0:[/color][/b] [color=lightgray]ALONG CAME A SPIDER [/color][/right][/sup][/indent][hr][indent][color=lightgray][sub][b]Queens [color=red]♦[/color] New York City[/b][/sub][/color][/indent] [indent] The L train screamed through Broadway Junction station like a bat out of hell, smashing apart a hastily erected barricade in the middle of the track. NYPD officers and MTA workers scattered as debris flew through the air in every direction. At the front of the train, a man in a yellow-quilted costume stood in the cabin, his vibro-shock gauntlets embedded in the controls. "What do you think, boys? Can we make this thing go any faster?!" He cackled, sending another wave of electricity flowing through the system. A gang of turtleneck-wearing, assault rifle wielding professionals made their way up and down the train's cars, stripping the trapped passengers of all their belongings. After being sufficiently departed from their valuables, the passengers were herded into the central cars and zip-tipped together. "ACC-EL-AR-ATE! Hahaha!" Shocker shouted over the radio. One of the hired guns looked to his partner and smacked a palm against his forehead. "This idiot's going to get us all killed." "Y'know, I was thinking the [i]same[/i] thing." Spider-Man agreed, wrapping an arm around the gun-totting thief's shoulder. "You guys deserve better. You think Kingpin's hiring these days?" The gunman shouted a confused splurge of curses, each gaining an octave as he realized just how screwed he really was. Before he could shift his rifle around or take a step away, he found his feet leaving the ground and the ceiling quickly approaching. He screamed, and his face smashed directly into the roof just as a white, sticky substance slapped against the back of his head, pinning him in place. The second thief whirled, firing a spray of bullets right where he'd seen Spider-Man just a moment ago. Instead of tearing holes into his blue-and-red spandex-ed ass, they instead poked holes into the windows and seats of the train car. "Where'd he-" "Over here, champ." Spider-Man tapped the guy's left shoulder so he'd twist toward it, only to slam a fist into his right cheek. He was sent careening head over heels to the floor, where another spurt of webbing stuck him firmly to the floor. The thief groaned. "Hm, sounds like that hurt. Make sure you apply for worker's comp. And put some ice on that!" Peter wagged a parting finger down at the goon before turning and jogging down the car. There were a lot of people tied up in this car. Peter felt a twist of anxiety in his gut as he realized how stupid it'd been to stunt on those guys with so many innocent people packed in like sardines here. It was pure luck no one had been hurt. Stupid; the kind of mistake he would've made when he was a rookie, but he should know better by now. "Everyone okay?" He asked, slipping through the train car and freeing each and every one of them. People grabbed at his arm for his attention, looking for comfort in frightening times. Peter felt woefully under-qualified to offer it. All he could do is offer confident words and held hands. They were fathers, mothers, someone's kids. They all reminded him of people he'd failed to protect before. Parker stood. "Alright, everybody. Stay here. Find something to hold onto." He turned, and started toward the next car. "I've got a train to catch." Clearing the next car took no time at all. Peter had his game face on, and a handful of frightened train robbers fell quickly. They could barely see the blur of multi-colored, arachnid-themed pajamas as he web-zipped from one side of the car to the other. He needed to be quick about this, but the real struggle was never going [i]too[/i] fast. Too much momentum, or one reckless punch and one of these jerks might be headed for the morgue instead of a hospital. A faint buzz in the back of Peter's mind told him to duck, and he obliged. Just as he did it started raining bullets as machine gun rounds tore down through the ceiling and peppered the interior below. With a flick of his wrist, he attached a web to the wall and flung himself through a window and flipped up to the top of the train. A blur of buildings and treetops flew past as he confronted the gunman: a burly man the size of a hotdog cart, a massive, belt-fed fire arm in his meat paws. "Hey, jerkface!" Peter rushed him, ducking underneath another spray of bullets and sliding between the gunman's legs just to pop up behind him. With a quick pat to the back Peter attached a drone to his shirt, grabbed him and tossed him into the air. A parachute burst out of the back of the drone, catching the train's slipstream and launching its passenger into the great beyond. "That's what you get for not paying the fare!" He shouted after the rapidly ascending balloon-man. With the last of Shocker's henchpeople dealt with, all he had left to do was take down the head honcho himself. New York's tackiest-dressed supervillain had no idea what was coming for him. He was all too absorbed in the thrill of pushing the train to its absolute maximum speed, blowing through every station and grinding down the railway in the process. At this speed, the chances of derailing at every sharp turn were high. Too high. The NYPD had helicopters pursuing it, but even they were having trouble keeping up at this point. Shocker didn't see much more than a flash of red booties before the front window shattered inward and double kick sent him careening out of the driver's seat. Tumbling head over heels, he tore chunks of steel out of the flooring with his gauntlets as he flailed wildly about in surprise. "A train robbery, Herman? Really? Were you stuck watching nothing but Gunsmoke re-runs in prison?" Spider-Man crouched atop the busted control console, every muscle in his body tensed like a spring even as he ran his mouth. "What else we s'posed to hit in this town anymore?" Shocker grumbled, stumbling back to his feet. "Half the banks are owned by Maggia n' the other half's Kingpin's turf! Even I ain't crazy enough to mess with 'em. Guys like us can't make a living these days." "Have you considered opening a quilting boutique? I know a few grandmas who'd go buck-wild for that costume." "Screw you. Imma finally squash you like the bug you are!" Shocker growled, and charged. [/indent]