Spider-Man Season One: Freestyle

1-3: Hero

I consider myself pretty lucky for the weather conditions I had in the first few times I went out. Had things been different, I probably would have gotten killed before I even had a name.

Nevertheless, I found myself jumping from rooftop to rooftop, making way to the scene of the crime. I hadn't checked my phone since I managed to sneak out of school, so hopefully I wasn't too late.

I looked up at the midday sky, admiring (when I wasn't carefully aiming my footsteps) the beauty of the day. It really seemed like the kind of day where nothing terrible could happen.

But then again, there I was.

After only a minute or two, I found the street corner with the pizzeria I had seen on the news feed. It certainly wasn't difficult, with all the sirens and flashing lights. I began to stay low, and made my way to the edge of the building. Below me, I saw several cops and police cars standing in a semi circle, blocking all sides of the three way intersection, likely to box in their target.

In the center of this formation was a man dressed in what appeared to be very tight clothing. On his legs were dark tights which tucked into a pair of thin boots. His top seemed to be some sort of skintight workout suit, another almost black color, and his hands were in strange, bulky white gloves. On his head he wore a black mask that covered his entire head except for his face, which was behind some strange white visor, shaped sort of like the letter "V". Strapped to his back was some sort of harness with three weapons that appeared to be...boomerangs. He held another in his hand.

Oh boy... I thought to myself. This already got weird.

I took a closer look and saw an officer laying up against a pole. He seemed to be badly injured.

"Gotta find a way to break this..." I muttered. I glanced down at my wrist. The web shooters still weren't completely ready. I'd have to avoid using them if I didn't have to.

Taking one last look down at the scene, I closed my eyes. "All right, Peter. Here we go."

I swung my legs over the edge of the wall, carrying my body with them. I grabbed the surface of the wall with one hand, and my natural adhesion caused it to slow my fall. Gravity carried me down almost to the ground before I leaped off and prepared for a landing.

I came in a little too quick for my own good, and my body swung forward and I fell onto my face. I blinked and pushed myself up off the ground, spitting out a bit of blacktop that had gotten into my mouth.

When I was in a crouched position, I looked up. Obviously, I hadn't gone unnoticed. Every officer as well as the man of interest were looking at me. The guy with the boomerangs stared at me as I looked back at him. I gave him a mock salute. "'Sup?"

He chuckled just a little. "Um, who the hell are you supposed to be?"

I took my opportunity in stride. "Who am I? What, like you're not catching any eyes with that outfit and a bunch of boomerangs?"

His smile, the only part of his face I could see, twitched a little. "Nobody takes the boomerangs seriously. I've already proven I know what I'm doing, though!" He pointed over at the officer who rested against the pole. He was mostly still, and held a hand over a wound that seemed to be bleeding. "These things can kill you before you know what hit you. So whatever you're planning to do here, buddy, I'd suggest you drop it and go home."

"You got a name?"

He blinked. "What?"

I rolled my eyes under my hood and the pair of opaque goggles I wore with the outfit. "I'm not talking, like, a regular old name, you know. Guys who dress up in tights and go to commit crimes always take some kinda name for themselves. It's a thing, you know?"