Peter Parker (is definitely not Spider-Man) (![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} __spiderman) wrote in ![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} avengers_logs,@ 2018-02-23 20:25:00 |
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Who: Peter Parker & NPC bad guy
What: Something hinky is happening
When: 23 Feb, very early morning
Rating/Warnings: Green, with a little bit of fisticuffs
Peter ducked underneath the large shard of metal that was flying towards him. A hundred yards away, the hulking mass of sweaty man dropped his hands to his sides, looking angered at the fact that his projectile had been dodged. Meaty hand grabbing onto some barbed wire he curled his fist around it and yanked it loose, wrapping it around his knuckles and forearm like a weapon as he stalked towards Peter, who just straightened up and rubbed the back of his head.
“You know,” he started, ducking a right-left hook and sliding underneath the goon’s legs, “you could really put someone’s eye out with that thing.”
His foot planted firmly on the man’s ass, pushing hard enough to cause him to stumble forward and Peter used the follow-through momentum to flip to his feet, lifting a hand to fire a web-shooter. The sticky substance caught underneath the streetlight and he used it to haul himself up and out of the way of another blow, adjusting how his body was held a fraction to then use the centrifugal force created by swinging around the post to slam his feet into the man’s face, gracefully flipping in the air and landing on his feet, one hand on the floor to balance himself.
As he did, the street lights - that had been on overnight - started clicking off one by one with the approach of dawn. “Lights out,” he told the guy before punching him in the side of the head. The man finally hit the deck, blood-tinged saliva dribbling out of his mouth and onto the floor.
As Peter huffed out a breath, rubbed the gloved hand over his face and then secured the man’s wrists and feet with webbing, he felt the hairs on the back of his neck rising. Then the ones on his arms. His whole body broke out into goosebumps and he felt a violent lurch in himself like he’d eaten a bad burrito and it was imminently about to come back to haunt him.
Except… nothing else happened.
He couldn’t shake that feeling, though, that something… hinky was going to happen. After calling in a tip for the cops to bring this guy in and putting some caution tape - he’d taken to bringing some in his backpack for dangerous things left behind by his fights - around the metal shard, he web-slung three blocks before landing in an alley and pulling his mask off, changing into his own civilian clothes to head home and resist the urge to call Happy, or Tony, to ask what was going on.
Maybe he was just imagining things, but… but that feeling was still there like pinpricks all over his skin.
His phone was heavy in his pocket. Maybe a text wouldn’t be too much of a bother...