hashtagparkerluck | MISC. Musebox

[ Peter hadn't even made it into the hotel yet when something happened. His Spideysense screams at him quite suddenly to move and he yanks Ned back with him just as a car seems to come careening out of nowhere and crashes right into the entry doors of the hotel the two boys were to be staying at. He give Ned a concerned look before starting to move over to see if the driver needs help only to narrowly avoid being shoved out of the way as the driver flings the door open and takes off down the side walk. ]

Seriously!?

[ Peter throws his hands up in exasperation before starting to give chase. He's supposed to be on vacation but he'd a feeling that his chaotic life would have never allowed that. He turns to run backwards so he can shout back at Ned. ]

I don't know what that guy's problem is but I hear sirens so, I'm gonna go web him up. Tell Happy I'll be back in flash!

[ He turns back around so he can run faster, pulling his mask out and slipping it over his face. Once he has Karen sort of tracking the guy he ducks into and alley to finish changing into his Spider-Man suit and webs his backpack to the nearest wall. Hopefully he can find it again later. ]

[ For now though, he aims his web shooter up and fires a web up to the top of a building and pulls himself up-he moves much faster this way so its much easier for him to catch up to the guy and drop down in front of him. ]

Hey buddy, you totally almost ran people over, that's not cool. [ He informs the man who seems quite shocked to see a spandex clad kid drop from the sky. Peter takes the opportunity to web him quickly to a wall. ]

I think you should chill out here for a bit and think about what you've done.

Edited 2019-05-28 23:33 (UTC)

[ The case is an 8, actually - or it was, until the suspect - John Melvin - decided to take off on the world's most boring car chase through Mayfair, leaving the police rushing to keep up. Sherlock's chosen to follow on foot and he thinks John's panting away somewhere behind him but he can't be sure and he doesn't particularly care. He's completely intent on catching the man before he runs away with all his secrets; Sherlock's convinced he's been forging money in collaboration with a circus artist but he needs to see him up close to be sure and it's a maddening thought, that the man might just... disappear and leave him with questions and theories, rather than actual answers.

There's a crash further up the road and Sherlock doesn't need to see to realise that Melvin's dumped the car. Panicking, are we, in the heat of the moment? With a grim half-smile, Sherlock sets off down the nearby alley and he's so close, in forty-six feet he'll get him, he'll --

... pause. He comes to a complete and very sudden stop.

And stares. ]

What the...

[ So, Melvin's currently stuck to the wall in what looks like spiderweb (??) and there's... a kid in a spandex suit (???) standing there, throwing one-liners at him (????). For a long moment, Sherlock just gapes a bit uselessly, hearing the police sirens drawing closer and giving absolutely zero fucks. In the back of his mind, he suddenly recalls a late-night texting conversation, followed by a more recent one. The... spider person? This is an actual thing? He manages a more coherent word-combination but only just, his gaze jumping from Melvin to the kid and back again: ]

You... could have called ahead.

[ O-kay, they're on someone's trail and that someone, John Melvin, is actually in a car while Sherlock decides to pursue on foot and that's -- well, they'll do that, then, they'll chase a bloody car on foot and isn't that like their first case, the taxi one (this way, John, no, this way), isn't that like every case since? Damn it. He's breathing raggedly, staying right behind Sherlock until the car crash resounds between the surrounding buildings (a crash which Sherlock of course completely ignores), turning on his heel to run backwards for a few steps, just until he's got an overview of the scene. Anyone hurt? Doesn't seem that way, only material damage, a wrecked car and a hotel entrance smashed to bits. Fine, he'll live with that, he'll -- John turns around again, just in time to see Sherlock disappear down the nearby alley, making a face before following, footfalls sounding heavy and even against the pavement.

Until they stop. Abruptly. Because John has stopped. Abruptly.

Someone's -- what, webbed Melvin to the wall. Even before he's seen that someone in question, he's got a sinking feeling and with a grimace, he looks between Sherlock and -- what was the name, Spider-Man(?), bending over a little to lean on his knees, breaths coming out in angry pants. He's honestly getting too old for this kind of thing. The chases and the surprises and the bloody spider-people. ]

I suppose you did say 'no promises'...

[ Man sufficiently webbed to the wall and where the police can collect him (well, in about two hours unless they knew to bring a knife) Peter gets ready to leave and get back to Ned-hopefully before Happy even knew he was gone. ]

[ His senses go off again, not as drastically this time and more as a warning that someone's coming and he manages to turn and face the two men coming up on the scene just as the first comes to a stop. ]

Oh Hey, I'm-

[ He starts with a small wave, just as cheerily as he would have normally but then he realizes exactly who it is that he's just run into. Well, shit. It seems like the universe really does hate him. ]

-In trouble.

[ he finishes, watching them wearily though he's mostly focused on Sherlock because of their last conversation. ]

Nice to meet you guys in person. This guy was fleeing the scene of an accident- [ He gestures back at the webbed up Melvin with both thumbs. ] -but that's taken care of now so, I'm gonna go. Cool?

[ he offers a thumbs up, shifting uneasily and ready to escape if it turns out he needs to. ]

[ John joins them in the alley, looking just a bit too old for dashing about (and he's not, really, so clearly they need to do it more often) and Sherlock's mood is changing very rapidly from shocked to... curious. Well, well. Would you look at that? He walks closer, gaze fixed on the webbing currently locking Melvin to the wall. The man must be very uncomfortable - the... material, whatever it is, looks strong. Silk, his brain insists, but that's a ridiculous idea. To produce such a vast amount in such a short amount of time? ]

No, no, please. [ He glances over at Spider-Boy - which must clearly be the more appropriate alias. Smiles, sharply. ] Hang around for a bit, won't you? We won't have to waste any more time on that - [ He waves a hand at Melvin who sputters indignantly from somewhere underneath the webbing. On the scale of case relevance, he's gone from an 8 to somewhere below a 4. ] - but a few questions, just to sate my curiosity?

[ He's drawing closer as he speaks, staring at the suit, taking in the details - fabric, construction, might just be great for enhanced velocity, who knows, what would he need that for in any case? If Peter doesn't step back, he'll pause less than a feet from him; personal boundaries have never really been his greatest point of attention, particularly not when something sparks his interest. ]

[ That's great, simply great -- Spider-Man has found his way to London, has just caught their criminal for them and is now being intensely studied by Sherlock who, as ever, doesn't know when to give people space. Somewhere along the line the man's parents and Mycroft have severely failed their given responsibilities in regards to basic manners. John frowns for a second, finally finished trying to catch his breath, before straightening up and walking over to the -- well, the kid, probably, suit makes it difficult to tell, but his texting style certainly doesn't, and Sherlock who's asking to have his curiosity sated, something that ought to make Spider-Man (or just about any man, really) run far, far away, because John has no idea how many human parts that will require. Drawing to a halt next to the other man, he glances from their new superhero friend to the web keeping Melvin safely pinned to the wall and purses his lips. ]

Yes, well, please isn't in his vocabulary, unfortunately -- [ A sideways glance at Sherlock before he crosses his arms over his chest. ] -- but if you're kind enough to indulge him anyway, I promise there won't be any tissue samples involved.

[ Spider-Man stays where he is, watching cautiously as Sherlock approaches and noting that senses aren't currently alerting him to danger so it's unlikely either of they two mean him any harm. Then again, he knows from experience his sense doesn't always go off when it's supposed to. ]

Whoa dude, ever heard of personal space?

[ he takes a tiny step back just to gain a bit more control of the situation. Realistically, he knows he's not really in any danger because he could easily get away from these two without breaking a sweat. Or at least, for a while. He has read John's blog so he knows a little bit about Sherlock Holmes, enough to know the other probably could find him again if he really wanted to. ]

Uh... yeah, okay. I mean, I can't promise I can answer all your questions but sure-shoot.

[ He pauses a moment as Happy's face comes up on his HUD and he holds up a hand. ]

Wait! Not yet!

-No not you! [ Attention snaps to... something. ] No! That's not-! No, Karen! Just ignore call! Tell him I'll call him back!

-Sorry. Anyways. Questions. Yeah.

[ Spider-Boy looks just a bit apprehensive, really, though he stays where he is as opposed to... flying away? Swinging? God, Sherlock wants to see - but all right, fine, he'll contain himself. Ever heard of personal space, asks the boy and John's making promises he can't possibly hope to keep, so Sherlock stops, pauses, then takes a slight step back. Wonders who's on that line of communication, then pushes the thought aside for now. ]

First things first. What is that - [ He points to the webbed mass on the wall ] - and how in the world is it produced? You can't have been here much longer than us and yet, poor Melvin's in a veritable cocoon.

[ Considering the strength of spider's silk, it's obviously a formidable weapon and a great defense, assuming you don't have to carry actual spiders around to produce it (though really, to varying degrees, arachnophobia is a pretty wide-spread condition, could be worth something if you simply threw them at people) But this - it can't be silk, at least not in any form he knows. It looks tougher, somehow, more like nylon. Without looking away, he nods at John, adding mostly as an afterthought: ]

John, get my phone for me.

[ Really, the man's pretty much just standing there. Come, John, make yourself useful. ]

[ Listening to Sherlock going into his usual research mode, John simply cocks his head and follows along -- of course the man's interested in the web. It's a substance, you can break down its components and look at them in a microscope, just up Sherlock's alley, right? Like they are, quite literally, at this very moment, up Sherlock's alley. Well, some alley, at least. John frowns, looks over at Spider-Man and purses his lips. How does the kid produce web like that anyway? It requires silk, doesn't it? Spiders have -- ugh, spiders -- some sort of glands, don't they? Does this -- kid have glands? Of course, biologically he would have certain human glands, but does he have those silk-producing glands, too? Talk about a medical mystery...

Then, suddenly, John's train of thought gets derailed somewhat rudely as Sherlock addresses him and asks him to get his phone. John pauses, really pauses, turning very slowly to stare at the other man. His phone? Wait, is he pulling this stunt in front of -- other people? What the hell?? The line of his mouth hardens. ]

You've got both hands free, you -- [ He is about to say lazy sod, but thinks twice about it, knowing they might just be in the company of someone underage. Instead he mumbles something that could be shit, could be something else, it's difficult to hear, before stepping closer to Sherlock and giving the man a brusque pat down, feeling for his phone in both his coat pockets (not there, not there, not -- there) and finding it eventually in the right inner pocket of his jacket. Basically shoving his hand down his front, John fishes it out and hands it to the other man with an aggressively arched eyebrow. ] -- You're not making me type for you as well, are you? Because I'm going to refuse by shoving this piece of modern technology down your throat.

[ Peter feels a small bit of relief as Sherlock takes a step back, though he does his best not to let it show too much. He watches the two men curiously, raising an eyebrow beneath his mask which translates to the eyes of his mask. That's a little... extra. Not even Mr Stark is that bad. ]

My webbing?

[ He asks glancing over in the direction of the man he'd webbed to the wall. ]

It's uh something I make. Not uh... organically-god that'd be weird. Just in my spare time.

but don't worry about uh.. Melvin? [ He says, sounding cheerful again. ] It'll dissolve in like two hours.

[ John's definitely getting around with this search, proving once again that he doesn't pay attention to much of anything and Sherlock takes the phone from him with a raised eyebrow, deciding for once not to comment on it. Maybe, as an experiment, he ought to start putting his phone in the exact same pocket every time, just to set off some sort of learning curve. Or maybe he's got better things to do. He shoots off a quick text message to Lestrade (Lost the suspect somewhere near the end of Clarges Street, direction Hyde Park - SH) to minimise risk of unseasonable interruptions.

Then, he strolls back to webbed!Melvin, running one fingertip over the stringy substance. Interesting. In his spare time, even. That's a nice bit of extracurricular engagement, isn't it. ]

Two hours. [ He scratches it with his nail. Melvin makes a noise of distress though you have to wonder why - he's just hanging there! It's almost fantastical to imagine - that a substance like this, whatever it consists of, can be simultaneously so strong and so soluble. It makes his brain decidedly over-excited. ] Remarkable. If I wanted a sample, what would be the easiest way?

[ He's certainly not about to start hacking away at it if he doesn't have to. ]

[ It's basically like watching Sherlock get his wettest science dreams fulfilled and John grimaces a bit at that particular thought, not moving when the other man does, instead focusing his gaze on Spider-Man (probably he picked man over boy, because one is a thing you become whereas boyhood is something you grow out of eventually and that would be a difficult name change to make mid-career, he figures) and resting his hands on his hips, looking slowly between Sherlock getting his scientific panties in a twist (again, really unflattering mental image) over the web tying up poor Melvin and the superhero who texts and talks like a teenager.

Did he just say he made the stuff himself, by the way? John frowns. ]

Can you make a sample for him? [ He asks Spider-Man, nodding in Sherlock's general direction. ] Just so he doesn't have to break out the scalpel and cut into Melvin by -- well, it wouldn't even be a mistake with him.

[ He watches Sherlock inspect the webbing currently pinning Melvin to the wall, still on alert just in case. Peter, of course, understands the notion of getting excited by science and new compounds-he goes to a STEM school and even there he's considered a nerd. Not that he'd deny it, he did spend hours in the school labs manufacturing just the first version of his web fluid. ]

[ At the noise of protest coming from Melvin, Peter turns to face him, no sympathy in his perfectly cheerful voice. ]

Hey man, you're the criminal here. You brought this on yourself.

[ He pulls a small vial from his utility belt and tosses it up once before catching it, trying to decide if this is something he should do or if it's gonna come back to bite him in the ass as most tended to do. Even chasing after Melvin had because now Happy was gonna be annoyed he ignored his phone call. ]

Uh... I guess, if it means that much to you and you promise not to like.. sell it to Oscrop or something-trade secrets and all that.

[ He tosses the vial up again before catching it. ]

Something you should know though-the moment they're exposed to oxygen it
quickly becomes less and less adhesive so if ya want it it stick-

[ He aims at the wall opposite of Melvin, quickly pressing twice on his his palm with his middle and ring finger so a short strand of webbing shoots out and attaches itself to the wall. ]

-Ya gotta be fast.

[ He tosses the vial over towards John ]

And uh... don't tell Mr Stark about this?

Edited 2019-05-30 10:12 (UTC)

[ Oh, that's a nice touch - compression-devices, of course he'd need those, and they've got to be rather special too, with how fast that liquid sublimates. Sherlock studies the web on the wall for a second or two before turning towards the boy, smiling very slightly at the sight of John, being reduced once again to holding stuff for other people. That'll no doubt tickle him just right. He shoots the man a quick look and a raised eyebrow before returning his attention to Spider-Boy. ]

Won't tell a soul. [ And he really won't. This is for him to fiddle with. Nice cure for boredom, as long as it lasts. It doesn't once occur to him to scoff at the idea of a high school student, producing something so noteworthy. Intelligence is not a matter of age. For instance, he's quite certain he's been smarter than Anderson since age 2. ] But this is all external. [ He points at the vial in John's hand and the shooters on Spider-Boy's wrists. ] No less interesting for that - but what about you?

[ Aaaand - he'll be drawing closer again, Peter, and this time he's got a look on his face similar to someone dissecting a rare animal in a lab. He pauses a respectable distance away, though - he's seen what nylon-like web can do and he'd rather not be stuck to the wall for two hours if he can avoid it. ]

Fast metabolism, you wrote. What else?

[ Spider-Man tosses the vial at John and by way of rather good reflexes, he catches the thing one-handedly, only catching himself mid-way through the motion, the expression on his face changing from neutral attention to surprise, then to irritation, both eyebrows shooting up and making him look almost disbelieving that he just did that, that either of them just did that -- Spider-Boy throwing the vial in his direction and John H. Watson catching it, like a fucking dog. For God's sake! He's not your errand boy or your bloody carrier pigeon. Christ! ]

Ta. Really.

[ As soon as Sherlock moves closer again, he tosses the vial at him rather angrily, expecting the other man to catch it, because Sherlock might look like (and act like and be) a starving junkie, but his reflexes are almost superhuman. Spider-Kid here would probably be the only person to be able to outmatch them.

John only ever manages, when Sherlock isn't truly trying. He's well aware. ]

Your turn to be fast, Sherlock. You heard the kid.

Sorry. He was busy.

[ Peter offers a small apologetic shrug at the look on John face before the sharp little prickle at the back of his neck alerts him that something is wrong. It's not as major as say the car that nearly ran him and Ned over earlier but enough that his attention snaps back to the consulting detective. ]

[ External? The word rings in his head, the hairs on his arm starting to stand on end and he frowns beneath his mask, not liking the look on the man's face at all. It doesn't matter than Sherlock's stopped a respectable distance away because Peter's senses are still buzzing slightly-it's enough for him to make a quick, split second decision. ]

Okay. Interview over.

[ He aims his webshooter briefly at the detective before firing point blank and then aiming his webs up higher on the building to pull himself out of harms way, grabbing onto the brick and sticking to the wall like a little spider where he can look down. ]

Sorry to cut this short but I gotta get back to the ho-uh-thing.

[ That's the trouble with a disguise and a face-mask in particular - quite hard to gauge a reaction with any sort of precision. He's therefore wholly unprepared when Spider-Boy shoots that crazy brilliant webbing at him. His brain manages a few, rapid-fire inputs by mere observation (pressurized by many hundreds of psi, not nylon but close, polymerization obviously, but how is he shearing it, how--) before he's lifted off his feet and sailing through the air, arms flailing uselessly. He clutches the vial between his fingers, trying to protect it from impact.

Slam. He hits the wall hard and realises instantly that he's glued to it - he can't move at all, apart from glancing at Melvin who's... looking slightly triumphant, that bloody bastard. Blinking, he stares at the boy as he proceeds to stick to the wall and throw a one-liner at him (naturally), which is just. Ugh. Ugh.

A couple of hours, he said. John had better stick around for the whole ride or at least for long enough to catch Melvin when the matter dissolves. Taking a deep breath, Sherlock fixes his gaze on Spider-Boy, deciding that maybe trading in a favour from Mycroft might just be necessary after all.

Interview over? Not by far. ]

[ Much as with life's defeats, very little every really prepares you for the successes, but at least good surprises make the bad worth it all, right? That's kind of how John feels as he watches Sherlock getting webbed to the wall, a long, dramatic (of course) flight backwards and slam. Staring open-mouthed at the spectacle for a moment, not quite knowing what to say (whether to thank Spider-Man who just earned his name threefold or whether to curse somewhat aggressively), he eventually ends up sputtering out a laugh, doubling over with his hands on his knees to really get air down to his lungs while he -- cracks up, yes, that's the word. Completely. Oh, God. Spectacular. Absolutely amazing. Sherlock Holmes, stuck in the spider's web, literally. He needs to blog about this, obviously.

Finally straightening up, he dries off a few stray tears of utter mirth from the corners of his eyes, turning to follow Spider-Man with his gaze as he -- proceeds to stick to the wall himself, very much like an actual spider can and that's just fascinating, but honestly not as fascinating as -- John turns on his heel, staring back at Sherlock and managing not to laugh again only by sheer force of will. Okay. O-kay. Breathe, Watson, breathe. ]

I'm ordering takeaway for this. Hold on a moment. I mean --

[ He licks his lips in an effort not to laugh, again before fishing out his own phone this time and looking up a local restaurant, anyone will do. Ooooh, this calls for Chinese, he can tell. If he's going to have to wait for hours for Sherlock to come down -- which really is -- yes...

Thank you, Spider-Man. ]

[ That wasn't exactly the reaction Peter had expected from John. He's not sure he had expected but certainly not to see the man laughing so hard he can barely stand. Maybe, just maybe, Peter had jumped the gun a little but his spideysense was saying danger and it wasn't like he could just ignore it! ]

[ Still, Mr Holmes wasn't a criminal like Melvin so there's really no reason so force him to be stuck there for the full two hours. Still sticking to the wall, he fishes something else from his utility belt and waits long enough that Dr Watson seems to have stopped laughing quite as hard. ]

Here, this is the solvent.

[ He tosses it down. ]

But I really gotta go guys, or I really might be in trouble-see ya!

[ With a little half wave-half salute, Spider-Man shoots another web to neighboring building and swings away. ]

Okay, Karen. Uh... find my backpack?

[ Peter yawns heavily, not at all fully awake having stayed up way too late telling Ned all about his day yesterday, including meeting Sherlock Holmes and John Watson and then watching Alien Convent on Ned's Laptop. He barely heard anything Happy told him about their plans for the day just that he had that Stark Gala thing he had to go to later in the evening. According to Ned, Happy had gone off to talk to Tony and would be back for them after breakfast. ]

[ Which is exactly where Peter is now, the plate in front of him is filled generously (three pancakes, four sausages, two bagels and bowl of fruit salad) He takes the carton of chocolate milk, pokes a straw down into it and takes a long drink before glancing around to see where Ned is at in the buffet line. ]

[ His window of opportunity isn't exactly wide. Access to the hotel itself, not a problem; knowledge about Spider-Boy's true identity, trickier - took a good amount of putting information together, coupled with Mycroft sharing some very particular records with him from the US State Department along with the hotel guest list. In the end, he's had to rely on his hearing as well; thankfully, Spider-Boy didn't see any need to distort his voice the other day and the costume doesn't do much to hide his built. Looking a bit... limp as of now, though. Teenagers.

Sherlock's chosen a seat in the restaurant very close to the boy's table. Peter's a pretty popular name, isn't it, in the US. Number 159, according to the SSA. He pushes away his empty coffee cup, gets to his feet and makes his way over. There's an empty chair and he takes it without further ado, seating himself across from the boy in a fluent motion. His coat billows around him dramatically. Take it off, in-doors? Nonsense. ]

Good morning. [ A semi-pleasant smile. After all, his back hasn't quite stopped aching yet, from hitting the wall yesterday. ] A moment of your time, please.

[ Ordinarily, Peter's Spideysenses would have picked long before Sherlock had managed to sit in front of him, however his sense don't work as well when he's tired and there are several other people milling about the dining area of the hotel. So, this time, at least, Sherlock manages to get the drop on the teen who had only just managed to spot Ned in line before the alarm hits. ]

[ He jumps so badly he manages to accidentally stab himself in the back of the throat with the straw in his milk and nearly chokes. He pulls it away in a hurry and at the same time he turns to see who has joined him-he knows that voice. ]

[ Oh shit. His eyes widen in alarm for just a second before he tries regain his composure, still coughing slightly from nearly choking on chocolate milk. ]

Uh... hi?

[ He offers, doing his best to sound confused as he wipes milk off his chin and then the top part of his shirt ]

[ The kid promptly proceeds to jump, almost choking on his chocolate milk and Sherlock waits for him to find his voice, leaning back in his chair and watching him intently. Presumably, he's not quite used to being caught on the wrong foot like this - he files it away on his mental spreadsheet, no need to take something like that for granted, going forward. He also makes a note of his shirt of choice. After all, there's a joke he's actually capable of catching onto, which is a bit of a novelty and thus, moderately interesting. ]

Yes, indeed. [ He shrugs, mostly to work out a kink in his left shoulder. Thank you for that, kid. ] Honestly, I don't know why you over-reacted the way you did yesterday. You can't pretend it shouldn't interest me - you'd be curious too, if our positions were reversed.

[ Peter can't help the way his eyes widen in alarm again and he quickly looks around for Happy-hoping that he'll somehow turn up earlier than expected and play the role of the intimidating bodyguard but no. He swallows and mentally curses his luck. He knew this was going to come back to bite him the ass because what doesn't? ]

I-I don't uh... know what you're talking about?

[ He tries, voice shaking horribly and probably, if the expression on his face wasn't enough, giving away that he does actually know what Sherlock is talking about. ]

I-I'm just here for uh Stark Internship stuff. Mmhm. [ He nods as if it would help sell the lie at all. ]

Edited 2019-06-05 08:17 (UTC)

[ He stares at the boy for all of five seconds. Then, he rolls his eyes. ]

Fine, I'll play nice if you stop playing stupid. It's physically painful to watch.

[ Sherlock didn't dismantle Moriarty's network by being horrible indiscreet - he just generally chooses not to care. Though he's got no doubt that the people around them are precisely as unobservant as most tend to be, he keeps his voice down. They'll think nothing of it, too preoccupied with their own, boring lives. ]

I understand that you were quite busy yesterday; so was I, incidentally - [ So all that time, hanging on the wall like a pinned insect? Annoying, Peter. Really, really annoying. ] - but happily, I had a quiet evening. Lots of time to look things up, do a bit of research. Want to know what I've found so far?

MISC. Musebox

for acuriousincident & docwithablog

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

for acuriousincident

Let me know if anything needs changing, I can re-write anything and everything if necessary. :)

Nope! It's perfect!

no subject

no subject

no subject