The Prototype (IC)

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Aranea

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Gothic City...

"Ah... AHCHOO! ....Ugh...." Aranea blew his cold nose with a tissue before rolling his mask back down.

"You'd think September in Gothic wouldn't be that bad. But nobody ever thinks about how chilly it gets up on these building ledges. And this spandex! I swear this thing is literally made out of ice from how bad it insulates. Got my trusty hoodie though. Oh hoodie, so snuggly."

He pulled up his blue hood, crossing his arms to keep in just a bit of body heat.

Aranea had only been in Gothic for a few days. Sent here by his boss to pick up yet another high-end package. The job of an exclusive courier worked wonders for Nate's double life. But Gothic City still sent shivers up his spine every time he had to come here. It made New York look like heaven on Earth, which made this place the deepest pits of hell.

The two good things about the spider swinging by was, one, he can do some good, save some lives and bring some hope to the city. And two, finally catch a glimpse of this city's true protector...

"A man with mystery as his very own shadow. A dark crusader that might as well have a phobianamed after him from how terrifying he is to every single criminal that they have an accident in their pants. Knightfall! I've been following his career since before I became Aranea, he's the baddest of ass's. Okay, he's a little too much on the dark and brooding side, but all the same. I'd do anything to ride along with him for just one night..."

So Aranea remained perched on the tall building, shivering in the cold. Either waiting for the police scanner to point him to the nearest crime, or to finally see the caped hero. Whatever came first.

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Hawkshade

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It was said that some cities came alive at night. Los Vegas burned neon and the music of triumph and despair blew upon the wind at night while the streets were a mosaic grid of shining automobiles. Other cities, it was said, were dead. Detroit's decaying corpse lay near the Great Lakes with its downtown occasionally adding new construction like the fingernails of a deadman turning into yellow talons.

But Gothic was different. Neither alive nor dead it shambled on zombielike; a corpse of a city but an animated one, a cruel mockery of life. Some tried to save it. Noble, naive-- doomed. Others had tried to put it out of its misery. Pragmatic, calculating and yet equally doomed for what was dead could never die (yet neither could it live.)

"Ahem." Hawkshade cleared his throat. He stood on the roof behind Arenea. Perhaps ten feet. Powerfully muscled arms crossed over his broad chest, body clad in Armatura I, his first real costume and his ebony cape billowing in the wind behind him.

"What brings you to Gothic?" He growled.

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Aranea

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Aranea's focus snapped in two with the powerful voice speaking from behind. "Wha-?" He flipped around, still perched on the ledge. The hero's eyes widened at the sight in front of him.

"No. Flipping. Way! It's him! What the hell are the odds of that happening? Who cares! Gotta think of something cool to say, but not cliche. Or should I just stay silent? Noooo. Just don't say anything dumb Nate! I don't think he'd appreciate quips, doesn't seem like a joking type. I still can't believe this happening-"

Aranea had been quiet for about fifteen seconds now. Finally, he stood up from his crouch and cleared his throat. "Oh, you know. Kicking crime's butt wherever I go. No big deal or anything..." The rookie crossed his arms exactly like Hawkshade, not even realizing he was doing it.

"Kicking crime's butt"?! Oh my god that was lame! Uuugh!"

"So... Are you really Hawkshade...?"

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Hawkshade

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How old is this kid? Hawkshade thought. But it's not about how many years he's been alive. It's about how much life he has lived in those years.

Richard himself was only twenty. But he had lived every one of those years and he carried them with him now, upon his shoulders and brow.

The breeze caught his cape. It flowed about his ankles, a waterfall of sheer black. Serpentine. There was silence for a time before he replied.

"Yes." He said. "I am."

"And just who are you?"

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Aranea

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"Whew! I thought he was going to just stare at me until I left or something. Loosen up Nate, he's just like you. Just a guy... Or a demon, I mean I just met him."

Aranea took a step forward, trying to relax his posture slightly. Their outfits clashed like night and day, the red and blue of the Spider's costume made Hawkshade resemble a vague shadow even more.

"I'm Aranea, your hero neighbor from a few cities over. Don't worry though, I wasn't looking to set up shop in your turf. Just paying a visit to see if I can help at all."

Aranea was sizing him up through his thick white lenses, admiring the craftsmanship on his costume.

"Wonder if my rep goes as far as Gothic City. Here's hoping, otherwise there's nothing stopping Hawky here from thinking I'm some escaped crazy guy with a mask."

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Hawkshade

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#6  Edited By Hawkshade

"Aranea huh." The vigilante was silent for a moment. Behind his mask he was running a search for photographs that matched Aranea's description, references to a spider themed hero in police reports or posts on social media featuring this 'Aranea.'

He checked out. Richard nodded, stepped forward and extended a massive hand. "Welcome to Gothic."

"If you are looking to help this is Gothic. There are seven hundred and nineteen open murder investigations, thirty six street gangs, fourteen organized crime syndicates and six serial murderers. That I know of."

"There is only one rule." His tone indicated he would not compromise on this. "No killing."

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Aranea

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Aranea's posture slouched a bit as Hawkshade listed off the many reasons this town's considered "Hell on Earth".

"He seems so organized! From what I've read, the guy takes down whole syndicates and operations. All I do is swing around and look for crimes to stomp out. How does he do it all? What kind of resources make him seem so... Well... All-knowing?"

The spider let out his own sigh of relief at Shade's stern "one rule", already knowing they were going to get along just fine. "It's funny you say that. I was going to tell you the same thing. What makes us any different if we just play executioner, right?"

He wanted to ask about his mask setup, but restrained himself and instead turned around and pointed to the city in front of them. "This is your home turf, Shade. You wouldn't mind showing this Spider how things in Gothic get done, would you?" He looked back at the fellow hero, tugging on his blue hood at the same time.

"Oh god, please say yes! This might be a serious learning experience."