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Crimson Spider

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    Dave ST

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About Crimson Spider

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    NPC
  1. Working through some complications with my Spider-Person build... I might just use the older version, because he was actually 150PP. Some his powers didn't make sense though.
  2. "Really?" Devin seemed a bit too enthusiastic. "Uh, I mean... really? He just swooped in and saved you huh? That's awesome. I'm glad you weren't hurt." He added, not knowing that Tempest could have single handedly mopped the floor with the three goons, even they'd brought two buddies each as back up. Ignorance was such a blissful thing. "Oh, no," She added. "He got there just as one of them grabbed my arm, but that was about it." She rolled up her sleeve and showed hi ma slight bruise from the thugs abusive grip. "Ouch." Devin winced. "Sorry about that." Tempest shrugged it off, having endured injuries far worse than a manhandled bruise. "I looks worse than it is, really. Besides, it's not like you were there, so you don't have to apologize. I'm okay." He still gave her a worried glare that informed her that he wasn't convinced. "Honest, Devin, I'm fine." "Okay," He conceded. "Look, don't take another swing at me, but uh... judging by the doey look in your eyes, and the lower lip biting... does Tempest Greer have a thing for her savior?" The glare she shot him was a mixture of embarrassment and shock, both at his audacity and his near spot-on appraisal of the situation. "I'm just saying! I mean statistically speaking relationships that start under stressful circumstances... they never last." The ear to ear grin on his face told her he was just teasing her in some attempt to share a laugh. "And what would the school paper think?!"
  3. "I'm not assuming anything," Devin wasn't one for standing up to people, but Tempest appeared to be his special case in just about everything. "You sort of conveyed that with your first comment to me." He shrugged and tried to smile as he dabbed some blood off his lip. "Before the butt kicking that is." He hopped up on the table, still dabbing away as he swung his legs back n' forth. "Look, I just want to help. If you don't like people seeing you in a particular light, then change their perceptions. If you want to sit and study, we'll study. If you want my notes and go after that 'C', by all means there they are." He motioned to his notebook lying the table one row ahead of him. "Hell, Tempest, if you'd rather just sit here and talk and vent a little, we can do that too. You seem like you're carrying some burden and feel you have to shoulder it alone. Stress'll kill you if you don't let it out, just, y'know, not on my face. They say time wasted among friends is never wasted time."
  4. There were some really cool advantages to being a super powered spider-guy. Yup. Not feeling pain,however, didn't seem to make the cut. (Pardon the pun) He wiggled on his back for a second trying to get his eyes to focus and his senses to get themselves all sorted out. Hit been slammed into cars by hyper strong mutants gentler than Tempest socked him. He tightened his eyes closed and then opened them wide as the world tried to come back into focus. He could taste the blood in his mouth and knew that the open sore would mean no pizza for a weak, the acids in the sauce would irritate it. Then he captured it: their moment. Him lying there on the floor tasting his own irony blood completely dazed and confuse beyond reason while she lovingly cradles his head in her lap in a self-centered attempt to save herself a lot of person grief both at home and within her social clique. She was beautiful, if still a bit blurry, but her scent seemed mystical, her voice like a choir of angles (in panic and a bit off key) and her gentle caress felt as soft as fresh out of the dryer sheets (you know the feeling). No moment could have more clearly defined their love and ensured them a delightful future of disdain for each other and copious amounts of domestic violence. Who knows, maybe they could renew their vows one day on an episode of COPS. "I'm not going to tell on you." He said, sort of mumbling as his tongue rubbed the inside of his mouth to check for a cut. "Hell, it's par for the course for me." She certainly noticed the self-pity in his comment, and it was true to an extent since of all the dork in school Devin was the one who seemed to have the biggest bull's eye on his back. She felt some pity, I mean, she did just of perpetuate his problem. But he deserved it! "You know, you try and open someone's eyes to the harsh and cut-throat world around and try to encourage them to live up to their own potential on their own terms," His guard was still a bit down and a touch of the Spider's wit tripped to the surface. "and what do I get for it? Undying adoration? No. Showered with hugs, kisses and maybe a box of assorted chocolates? Another big no. Hell, I'll settle for pirated porn. But I'll tell you what a guy does get for trying to be a friend... he gets a right hook." "Look, Tempest, I'm not your dad, and I'm sorry I made you mad, I know it was harsh." He rubbed two fingers on the inside of his mouth, pulling them out produce red covered finger tips. He was taking his time, her lap was comfy. "I'll help you in any way I can, but you have to gimme a break here, I can't make you want to better than 'barely getting by'. That's all I was saying." He wiggled his head a bit to get more comfortable, nesting in for some quality time with his new found boxing champion of an aquantance. "So, about the mugging this morning, obviously you're okay, but wanna talk about it?"
  5. "D-Devin. Devin Kincaid." There was a part of him that felt like saying: 'Actually we've met several times, unofficially, but Logan kicks the snot out of me for looking at you.' But, he kept quiet. Logan, Tempest's 'boyfriend', was a walking stereotype wrapped in a cliché. He was the star quarterback, ruggedly handsome, his family was well off, he was dating the lead cheerleader and we was a complete jerk and a bully to anyone not on his social strata. Devin had been the subject of Logan's abuse for years, even before Tempest moved to Bay City, the bullying went back to elementary school. When your the town loser and bully magnet and you wake up one day to discover you punch a hole in half of an inch thick steel plating you find yourself faced with choice dangling from a very thin line. Devin, despite his super powers still found himself being beat up by Logan on a near daily basis. It helped his cover, seriously, what better way to hide a brawl with a super villain than to have your own personal bully to blame for the bruises. There were several reasons he tolerated it, most of which was his promise to his late parents that he would do what he could to protect the people of Bay City, but the closest second would be that Logan and Tempest were a social icon. He didn't care too much for Logan's social standing, but he knew how important it was to Tempest. With Logan on her arm she would lose a lot of face in the digital high school community and that would seriously damage her reputation. She wouldn't be happy, and that didn't sit well with Devin. "It's cool," He managed in his low barely audible 'social' tone. She noticed the difference in his voice between talking on the phone and now talking to her. The life, the inflection, the passion of confidence in his knowledge of the topic were all gone, like he was afraid of her. He shook her hand and she could feel the nervousness in his grip. "I'm sure he means well, parents are like that. My dad was a detective and used to always be really paranoid about where I was or who I as with. I mean, not that I claim to understand your life, or anything, I'm just saying... I can just relate, to an extent, is all." He sighed, feeling more and more sick by the second. He'd waited years for this opportunity, a moment where she and he were alone with none of the outside world around to mess up their moment. Yeeaah... 'their' moment... whatever moment that could have been, Devin had nary a clue, so he sucked it up and slid over his science notes. She was about to see a side of Devin that he was sure would foster her hate for him for an eternity, but he felt it needed to be done. He liked Tempest too much to allow her to just 'get by', she was better than that. "What's this?" She asked, lifting up the composition book and opening the cover. "That's your 'C'." He replied softly, not paying any attention to her and inspecting his phone for damage. "You don't need me for a 'C', everything you need is in that notebook, I high lighted the pertinent notes so by Friday you should have everything you need for your 'C'." "What? That's it? No studying?" The gorgeous teen looked a him sceptically. This was usually the part here the perverted nerdy guys would extort a kiss or inappropriate pictures of her in her bra or request to cop a feel, something to level playing field in the nerd/privileged hierarchy. "What's the catch?" She asked, plopping the book back down on the counter. Devin smiled and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "No catch. The only way you could get less than a 'C' with those notes is if you came to class in a coma. Consider it my way of thanking you for your new found interest in spending a lot of your future time with us nerds." "I'm not here because I want to be." She fumed. Devin was almost to the point pissing her off and he could tell. She wasn't in the mood for his games. "Look, I'm not really in the mood for this, okay? I've had one hell of a day and the last thing I want to be doing is sitting here getting lectured by you. I've no interest in spending any more time than is necessary with you, or any or your buddies. So, thanks for the notes." She scooped up the notebook and headed for the door. "And when the next test rolls around? And the one after? Who do you think will be tutoring you, hm? Guys like me." Devin stood from the stool and walked a few steps closer to her where she'd stopped to hear him out. "Every guy in this school Tempest sees you as a '10'. A '10'. All you see yourself as is a 'C'. Just a 'C'. Really? Just a 'C', Tempest? The students see you as just a number to refect how popular or beautiful you are, to the teachers? You're nothing but a grade in a book. Pass or fail they still get paid. I don't see you as a '10' or a 'C'. I see the woman who delivered one of the finest reports on Aaron Burr I'd ever heard. You were passionate with your words you were passionate about the topic. Every guy in the class didn't hear a word you said because they were too busy ogling your cleavage while all the ladies were too busy being pissed because they're real. No one heard you, Tempest, because this school, it's people, they don't care about you, it's all a popularity game to them." He placed his hands in his pockets and gave her a look. "I know you're better than a 'C' and you know you're better than a 'C'." He turned and waked away, heading back to the table. "You have my book, but I hate seeing people doing just enough when they're capable of so much more. You can walk out and settle for a 'C' and we can hook up next test and you can settle for a 'C' then too, and then again... and again. Before you know it, you're settling for anything people hand you. Or you can come back over here, we can put our respective cliques aside, treat each other like just Devin and Tempest and I'll help you get to where you don't have to settle any more, you can get 'A's' all on your own. Not because you had to, but because you wanted to." "Hate me if you want, Tempest." Devin sat back in his stool and flipped open his book to begin his homework, confident that she wasn't going to stay. He glanced up at her giveing the woman of his dreams one last once over before she walked out of his life, forever. His hormones didn't manage to make it past her chest, however. "I'm not trying to be a jerk, I'm just saying... y'know... I think you're bigger than a 'C'... I mean better! Better than a 'C'... I meant better." His forehead 'thunked' into his book, cursing his teenage hormones.
  6. It could have been anxiety, maybe nervousness, but when Mr. Campbell asked him if he could help Tempest with her studying, he had that sudden queezy feeling in the pit of his stomach that made him feel like he might both throw up and crap himself at the same time. She bit her lip and he swallowed hard. "M-me? Uh, I... with Tempest... today? Here? A-after?" "A yes or no will do Mr. Kincaid. Even a nod or a shake if you find your faculties have temporarily stepped out." It was no secret that Devin had a crush on Tempest, and most the faculty found the smart nerds puppy love for the Lead Cheerleader kinda cute wrapped in a candy coating of pathetic. They agreed he needed a girlfriend, but he sure had set his sights a bit high. Hell, it was damn near added to Freshman orientation; 'Welcome to Bay City High, we have an awesome football team and Devin Kincaid has had an uber crush on Tempest Greer for several years now. Enjoy your four years, we expect great things.' "Is he okay?" She could only look at him with a cocked brow and skeptical look on her face. "Please tell me he doesn't' have a grand mal on his 'to do' list today because my drama needle is on 'F' for the morning." Mr. Campbell chuckled and smiled at the two of them as Devin slowly managed to shuffle his way a bit closer, still at a loss for words. "Well, I wouldn't worry. It was touch and go there for a moment but I think he just nodded for us. Congratulations, you have a tutor, Miss Greer. Feel free to use my class room you two, I'll let the custodian know you'll be here." After school... There's always that awkward feeling that every student gets when they're in the empty halls of their school after hours. It's not like when school is in session and you're just walking the empty halls, no, it's a different kind of feeling after hours because you know the school is empty. It's quiet and for strange reasons that only Einstein's relativity theory could explain the whole building just seems larger. Every word echoes a bit more, every hall is just a bit longer, and every row of lockers seems to have one or two extra that you never noticed before. It's a strange sense of solitude. Devin felt right at home in all the quiet. He sat comfortably in one of the lab stools, leaning on the large, black topped, table adorned with years worth of senseless graffiti. "No. Uncle Stanley, listen. Listen, please... okay?" He moved his cell phone from ear to his other as he began unloading his books and notes for class to go over with Tempest. "Forget what you see in the movies, okay? Shooting a gas tank on a car with a bullet will not make the car explode, unless the car is already on fire. No. No, the spark caused by a bullet usually will not do the trick either, statistically you're not going to get a spark. Huh? Well, no, not really. See gas really isn't all that flammable, it's the fumes that you have to look out for. You can drop a match in gasoline and it'll fizzle out like water. Yeah, oh, yeah, trust me. Nope, gasoline wouldn't do the trick, have you tried a chemical analysis for acetone and peroxide?" He was so wrapped up in his conversation that he didn't even hear Tempest close the door quietly behind her. "Trust me on this Uncle Stanley, I know what I'm talking about. Gasoline, acetone and peroxide separated but linked with an electronic transmitter with a one mile radius and the bomber could've been anywhere. Have them narrow their search, they're looking for a bomber but you said it looked like arson, those three chemicals will give you one heck of a fire bomb. Hey, don't mention it, I'm just glad I could help. Pass it along to your guys at the precinct and I hope they catch the guy." With a thumb tap his smart phone ended the call and Angry Birds was back up on the screen. He spun about to go back to his unpacking when his limited vision caught the barest sight of Tempest's cheerleading outfit and it about scared the hell out of him when his brain tingled a warning that he was about to run into something. He dropped his phone, staggered back and knocked several lab stools off the neighbouring table in a startled panic to catch his footing (which he could have done, but he was in secret identity mode and had to sell it). "Jesus... oh... god... you scared me." He rummaged in his hoodie pocket and took a long hit off his inhaler (that had been empty for over two years). "That was... umm... embarrassing. Uh, hi, I'm Devin... science nerd." And I'm madly in love with you but not in the creepy way. Would you mind dumping that douchebag boyfriend of yours and try dating a guy who actually would care about you. Oh, and did I mention that I'm an incredibly awesome super hero? That'd be great, kaythanks. That'd go over like a tone of bricks. Who knows, if he actually built up the courage to express how he felt, he may have gotten somewhere with her years ago, before she hooked up with Logan, the boyfriend from hell, but in the wonderful world of Devin Kincaid, pouring his heart out always came across more like "So, uhh, where'd you wanna start? We have a lot to go ever by Friday and chemistry is no joke. Mostly because all the good chemistry jokes argon." He laughed like it was the funniest damn thing ever. Tempest got it, she was just firmly rooted in reality to find it funny, especially with the day she was having. "Get it? Argon. Yeeaah... shutting up now." Oh, Devin... you Casanova you.
  7. Holy crap holy crap holy crap holy crap holy crap! She's a fan! YESSSSSSSS! Okay, woah... settle. Get it together Devin, and quit doing a Home Alone in your head. She's impressed, this is great! Oh, man, this super hero gig is the bomb! I. Me. Devin Kincaid, the Crimson Spider just totally got the hottest girl in school to be impressed with... And about that time a certain reality set in and the smart kid with the high I.Q. let all the pieces fall into place. Crimson. She's impressed with Crimson. Okay, no worries, I can turn this around, hey that other Spider guy whose name I can mention because of trademark reasons hit snags like this before, I'm sure. One hurdle at a time. I talked to her, finally, so it's a start. "Hey, nothing wrong with that, as long as you're doing what you love, right?" He replied casually to her statement about school and cheerleading. "Well, I'm certainly glad I made a new fan today, and a lovely t'boot! Can't beat that. Most my fans are the geeky sort who play computer games in their mom's basement and dress up like me at comic shows. Mildly creepy, I admit, but endlessly entertaining to say the least." A few sirens were heard in the distance and she noticed the way he perked up to their wailing. "Well, I better skee-dattle Miss Greer, Tempest, it was my pleasure helping you. Awesome name by the way, you look like a Tempest. That is my cue to leave though, see, I'm less of a super hero and more of a super vigilante... the boys in blue and I aren't on speaking terms right now. Long story. But, hey, have your people call my people some time and we can do fajitas or something. You like fajitas?" Before she could answer though he was a red blur. Leaping up and flipping backwards towards the neighbouring building and then kicking himself off its wall even higher before launching a webline and swinging off, yelling something about fajitas in a high pitched voice that only caused her to chuckle some more as her tank filled.
  8. "Who am I? Wow, and I thought I didn't get out much." She could see the imprint of a smile beneath his mask. "The Crimson Spider, at your service. Everyone just seems to call me Crimson, though. The media eats it up, and the street vendors just love selling the hoodies." He tugged on the chest of his black hoodie with the emblem of a crimson red spider on it. It looked old and worn out and the sleeves had been torn off. "See? That's the reason I don't do two shows a night anymore, you kids these days are so desensitized by movies, and your interwebs, and your texting... doesn't anyone watch the news anymore?" It seemed his wisecracks never ended. "It's nice to meet you Miss Greer," He took her hand and politely gave it a few slow ups and downs. "And trust me, I don't think you're dumb at all. Were I off duty and met a lady as lovely as you on the street, I'd not be able to keep all my thoughts together either." She's gonna totally think that was a come on... even though it was, switch it up, don't sound like perv who's trolling for high school cheerleaders! "You've been through a lot, and all for outrageous gas prices no less. There's no justice, I tell ya."
  9. Devin slid the Bestiary 3 into his backpack, keeping it wrapped in the con's bag so he could keep it as a memento. This was one time of year he truly loved living in Bay City. Where most people had to drive for hours (or days) to get to the con and enjoy it for the week it was here, Devin was literally twenty minutes away. He took a second to glance around for his buddies, quickly spotting them at the assorted booths nearby. 'Pickles', Evan and Troy were clustered around the World of Warcraft booth paying more attention to the night elf booth-babes than anything else. Devin never really dressed up for these things. When a few pics of him dressed up as Link from The Legend of Zelda got out at school a few years ago, the torturous backlash from his peers was enough to scare him away from ever trying it again. Today, Devin was just, Devin. Jeans and Converse, a geeky t-shirt that displayed an old Nintendo controller on it and read "Old School" and a black, zip up hoodie that was so baggy that hood -when pulled up- enveloped his face like a Jedi's cloak. All he was missing was a name badge that read: "Hello, my name is: 'Social Retard'". "Guys, we don't even play WoW." He said quietly as he approached his friends. "No," replied Pickles, a tall, soulless ginger, whose real name was Tom. He was a good guy and a lot of fun to be around. He'd known Devin the longest. "But have you ever wondered how they get their boobs to stay in that outfit? I mean, dude, they're huge. Evan, go ask, I wanna know." "Okay." Evan said casually with a shrug. They guy was shameless and never refused a dare. Devin managed to grip his jacket just in time to stop him. "No, don't bother them. They're working, besides they deal with enough nerds salivating and asking them inane questions, let's try, for once, not to fit that stereotype." "Whudjuget Dev?" Tom asked, thumbing through his pack. "Bestiary 3? Dude, Nerdvana has this at twenty percent off right now! You got gipped, Dave coulda hooked you up." "I know, but this is my one book." Devin blew it off, not really concerned with Tom's appraisal of how he spent his money. "Every year I get one book from the con, this just happened to be the only one I still needed, I'm sure Dave'll understand. Besides, I need the new demons in here for our game on Sunday. The fate of Princess Tempesta's Kingdom rests in the hands of a few brave heroes guys, and brave heroes need scary as hell demons to battle." Speaking of 'Princess Tempesta'," Evan smirked, since his favorite past time was giving Devin hell about his crush. "You talk to her yet? How'd your grand plan for meeting up at her house and professing your undying love go?" "I, uh... hit a few snags." Devin said, not mentioning that the whole plan blew up into a 'save Tempest from a gang of thugs' marathon. It was The Crimson Spider who spoke to Temepest, not him. Troy, the youngest of the group (by one a year or so), finally spoke up, seeing that Devin was not enjoying being put on the spot. "Let's talk on the way, Nathan Fillion is doing a signing in ten minutes and we're going to be last in line as it is. I wanna see if I can get him to spill anything about the new Castle season." "Screw Castle!" Evan stated firmly. "They need to bring back Firefly damnit!" Quickly Evan found a hand on each of his shoulders as Devin and Tom led him off. In unison they replied, "Let it go, dude. Let it go."
  10. With great power, comes... Uh, the ability to swing by the hot chicks house you've had a crush on for the last five years, just in time to see her storm out of her house and peel out in her nice Lexus while jamming Norwegian death metal and screaming at her steering wheel. From his perch atop a utility pole a block away, The Crimson Spider watched the morning argument unfold up to its explosive, emotional conclusion. Today was going to be the day, he'd told himself. Today was going to be the day that he would swing by, meet up with her 'accidentally' outside her house and work up the courage to introduce himself to the woman of his dreams. Yes, introduce. He'd known her for five years and she still had no idea who he was, let alone how he'd felt about her for like... oh, I don't know... ever. "Hi Tempest, I'm Devin." He mumbled to himself as she sped off down the road. "I see you despise the modern steering wheel. You know what? Me too! Control freaks, really, that's all they are, honestly. Making the pinion rotate across the rack to the tie rod so the tires dance to their little tune. It's sickening, if you ask me. What, Tempest? What's that? I'm a complete loser and you'd like for me to go die in a fire now? Okay... I think I can squeeze that in right after your boyfriend and his jock buddies battering ram my crotch into the flagpole at lunch... again. It's been great talking to you." He lowered his head and fell forward off the pole, pushing off with just enough strength to land on the back of a passing semi-trailer that was bound for down town. "Who am I kidding? Out. Of. My. League." Sure enough, a couple miles later after he'd disembarked from his public transportation and was swinging through the down town alleyways and side streets, (swinging low enough for the occasional high-five, of course) Tempest was still going strong and seeing red. While he certainly appreciated her zeal towards fighting the on going oppression of the steering wheel regime he couldn't help but notice that her choice in gas stations was in a shady part of the neighborhood and could lead her into some trouble. It also didn't escape him that he was now border-line stalking her, and it was creeping him out. "I'm not stalking," He justified it as his webline found purchase on a fire escape and in a low arc he launched himself across the street a block away, perching on the ledge of the roof. He could see her at the pump and began watching the three guys gather each others' with casual points in the sexy cheerleader's direction. "This is not stalking. This is me being a concerned citizen and looking out for the safety and well being of a fellow Bay City..." He tilted his head as she bent into the car and scooped her card out of her purse. The skirt flared up enough to expose where her long, toned legs met the teasing the curves of her rear. His teenage hormones went buck wild and provided him with a startling epiphany... "Oh. My. God. I am totally stalking her. Crimson you pervert, hang your head in shame, you dirty, dirty.." he tilted his head one last time and stole another look, but didn't see what he'd hoped. "Oh, crap... jerk alert." Meanwhile, at the pump... Tempest put on her haughtiest expression and turned, gas handle in hand. There were actually three of them. Most teen girls would have been scared. Tempest was annoyed. They were wasting her time. Talking them out of their stupidity would take time; kicking their asses would take time and risked revealing her. Instead, she gave them a look that communicated that they should feel free to expire where they stood and turned back to her car. “Hey, bitch. I’m talking to you!” The same man spoke again and he compounded his crimes by grabbing her arm. “You need some manners.” Tempest paused a second, trying to decide the best way to handle this. In her moment of indecision, all hell broke loose. Her eyes widened as she prepared the throttle the whole lot of them in response to her failed assault on the steering wheel regime when from behind her a wad of goop swished past her hair slamming the spokesman for the morons square in the mouth. It hardened almost immediately, forming a tight, sticky, webbing that sealed his mouth shut. In a panic the man let go of Tempest and staggered away, clutching the webbing in a vain attempt to pull it off. "Woah, woah, woah, pump the brakes there Sugar Dumplin'." And with a dramatic entrance (Tempest had seen better, but it was quite dramatic) The Crimson Spider swung in past her and landed with himself between her and the goons. "Let's keep this "Super Hero, beats up Goons" moment rated PG-13, okay? The pretty lady obviously has places to go and things to do." He pointed to the gagged goon. "Oh, and dude, I wouldn't pull at that webbing bro, seriously, you think duct tape hurts? Man, have I stories to tell." "Mruph umph bmph ugh!" The webbed goon huffed at his two mates while pointing at Crimson. They gawked at him, shrugging slightly. Crimson stepped forward, putting some more distance between the scene and Tempest, making sure she remained a safe distance from what could transpire. "Allow me, I have some experience in this area. I can translate R-tard, he's saying," Crimson's voice dropped to a chastising monotone. "'What are you waiting for... get him. Get him. Kick the crap out of him." He shrugged. "Or something along those lines. If you were smart, you'd just take your buddy, cut your losses, and just walk inside." The tingle in the back of his head warned him a split second before the punch came at him and Devin simply arced his back slightly, dodging it completely without taking a step. "But why would you be smart... right?" He turned to Tempest. "Do I ask for too much? I mean really?" And it was on like Donkey Kong. With sheer skill and a dab of panache... okay a lot of panache, Crimson went to work battling the three goons and working them up into a brawling fury with taunts and jibes that almost made Tempe forget she was in a foul mood. It was like trying to stay angry while watching a really funny stand up comic; eventually, you have to give in and laugh, no matter how pissed you might be. He was all over the place, flipping about and combining a series of punches and kicks into aerial combos the likes of which she'd never considered. It was like watching another acrobatic master at work save where she'd spent years mastering her craft and relying on her awesome skill, everything for the Crimson Spider was instinctual; a lightning calculated response to external stimuli, like dodging a punch. He was showing off and she knew it, but it was almost borderline endearing in a sick and twisted, and mingled with a sadistic violent sort of way, that here was a super hero showing off, for her. Plus, he called her pretty. (What?!? Chicks totally dig compliments.) Devin had taken a few hits, but near as she could tell he didn't possess any blind spots, most of the hits were just distractions from taking on multiple opponents. He could fight, but she could tell he wasn't trained, this guy was just winging it. She felt the urge to help him when the gagged thug suddenly wrapped his hands around Crimson's neck and lifted him into the air. She noticed how relaxed and casual Crimson was, not realizing that Devin flexed his neck muscles to the point where them man couldn't squeeze hard enough to choke him, just lift him up. "Seriously?" Crimson asked, a bit raspy from the way he was flexing his neck. "Choking out the dude in the red pajamas? Not cool, bro." And then the combat came to an abrupt halt. Everyone stopped and clamped both their hands over their mouths while turning away in abject horror. With a casual tug, Devin simply yanked the webbing off the man's mouth. His feet touched the ground in milliseconds as the man slipped away clutching his face. His Don Johnson five o'clock shadow was completely gone, transformed into five o' clock mutton chops. On the bright side, his skin was as smooth as a baby's bottom. With that they were done. Scrambling to their feet they bolted inside the gas station and flipped the 'Open' sign to 'Closed'. "Wow, you guys are cool in my book, really, I mean that. If we weren't on like, totally opposite ends of the moral spectrum, I might even invite you guys over for Halo night. Peace out! Call me." He casually walked over to Tempest, thumbing towards the station door behind him. "I don't think they're going to call." With a scrunch of her nose she shook her head in agreement. "Well, look at that. Our first date and we closed the club together, we gotta do this again sometime Temp-" It suddenly dawned on him that he wasn't supposed to know her name and he thought fast. "-Orarily distressed damsel whose name I don't know." Just not fast enough, it seemed. "Are you hurt? Your arm okay?" I'm talking to her! I'm actually talking to Tempest Greer! He thought to himself as he took in the visage of what he considered his goddess, his muse, the object of his stalking. OMG FFS I'm not stalking her!!! Note to self: Fire the narrator of my life. And why did I just use a text acronyms in my private thoughts?
  11. Birth Name: Secret Identity Aliases: The Crimson Spider, “Crimson” Birth Date: June 05, 1995 (17 Years old) Place of Origin: Bay City, California Gender: Male Height: 5’10” Weight: 165lbs Hair: Unknown Eyes: Unknown Occupation: Vigilante Powers: Crimson possesses superhuman strength, reflexes, and equilibrium; the ability to cause parts of his body to stick with great tenacity to most surfaces; and a subconscious prepositional "danger" sense. Crimson’s overall metabolic efficiency has been greatly increased, and the compositions of his skeleton, inter-connected tissues and nervous system have all been enhanced. Crimson's musculature has been augmented so that he can lift (press) about 10 tons. His reflexes are faster than an average human by about a factor of 15 (he is often able to dodge bullets, if he is far enough away). Crimson is extraordinarily limber and his tendons and connective tissues are twice as elastic as the average human being's, despite their enhanced strength. He has developed a unique fighting style that makes full use of his agility, strength, and equilibrium. Crimson's exposure to the spider genes induced a mutagenic, cerebellum-wide alteration of his anagrams resulting in the ability to mentally control the flux of inter-atomic attraction (electrostatic force) between molecular boundary layers. This overcomes the outer electron shell's normal behavior of mutual repulsion with other outer electron shells and permits the tremendous potential for electron attraction to prevail. The mentally controlled sub-atomic particle responsible for this has yet to be identified. This ability to affect the attraction between surfaces is so far limited to Crimson's body (especially concentrated in his hands and feet) and another object, with an upper limit of several tons per finger. Limits to this ability seem to be psychosomatic, and the full nature of this ability has yet to be established. Crimson possesses an extrasensory intuition, which warns him of potential immediate danger by a tingling sensation in the back of his skull. The precise nature of this sense is unknown. It appears to be a simultaneous clairvoyant response to a wide variety of phenomena, which has given several hundredths of a second warning, which is sufficient time for his reflexes to allow him to avoid injury. The sense also can create a general response on the order of several minutes: he cannot discern of the threat by the sensation. He can, however, discern the severity of the danger by the strength of his response to it. Crimson, thanks to specially designed devices he calls ‘web-shooters’, is able to produce from his wrists, thin strands of a special “web fluid” at high pressure (nearly 300psi, which seems sufficient enough to force a stream an estimated 60 feet or significantly farther if shot in a ballistic parabolic arc). The web fluid is a shear-thinning liquid (virtually solid until a shearing force is applied to it, rendering it fluid) whose exact formula is as yet unknown. On contact with air, the long-chain polymer knits and forms an extremely tough, flexible fiber with extraordinary adhesive properties. The web fluid’s adhesive quality diminishes rapidly with exposure to air. After about 2 hours, certain imbibed ether cause the solid form of the web fluid to dissolve into a powder. The web line’s tensile strength is estimated to be 120 pounds per square millimeter of cross section. Background: The Crimson Spider appeared on the scene only recently (within the last year), and his witty banter has left the city in stitches. While some argue that he's a menace and some argue he's just the sort of hero the city needs, Crimson continues to operate outside the law and without official sanctions from Bay City
  12. Bam! Pow! The Crimson Spider is ready roll up on some evil and let loose some whoopins'.
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