Costume Party

January 30, 2017:

Silk comes across an unusual pair while web-slinging. They just wanted ice cream, man.

//Midtown Manhattan - New York City //

Situated between 14th and 59th Streets, Midtown Manhattan is *the* tourist destination in New York City. It is also the largest central business district in America. Most of the tallest skyscrapers in the city can be found here, from the Empire State and Chrysler Buildings to Stark Tower and the Baxter Building. It's also home to Times Square, Broadway, and Fifth Avenue.

In the day, the traffic is non-stop. In the evening, bright neon lights light up the street such that it looks as if the sun simply doesn't set on the city. But, then, there's a reason New York is called The City that Never Sleeps. This, right here, is it.


NPCs: None.

Mentions: Jessica Jones, Spider-Man, Ant-Man, Star-Lord


Mood Music: None.

Fade In…

After spending a morning and an afternoon staring at the ceiling of her room in Alias Investigations, after short greetings and conversations with Jessica Jones, her roommate, benefactor, and pro-bono private investigator, after feeling that connection with the Amazing Spider-Man waver in a way that she didn't expect, after all of the noise that she's felt in the back of her head since ending up on the city streets, Cindy Moon has finally made a decision:

She needs to get out.

In leggings and a longsleeve shirt, it gives her a bit more coverage in the chill air of January to cover herself in non-stick silken strands of webbing in a makeshift costume much like the one she spun for herself just the other day. The mask is there, of course, but she adds a scarf for good measure— and despite it all looking like she rolled through a god damn huge pile of spider's webbing, it looks a little cleaner and less ragged than her first attempt.

Swinging through the streets, passing from Hell's Kitchen and through the skies of New York, Cindy seems to finally be finding her stride with swinging on web-lines; confident, more relaxed. She even lets herself be flung through the air, eyes closed, and feeling the wind in her hair and buffeting against her body. The tingling in the back of her head doesn't even seem to be bothering her right now. Her eyes snap open as she swings low— VERY low— and sweeps right back up into the skies with even more speed. Before she knows it, she's in Midtown, full of lights and sounds and sights and all of the things that she never really appreciated until now. She doesn't even pay attention to those attentive folks with their cellphones out and cameras up trying to record New York's newest web-slinger.

He was right— this really /is/ the greatest feeling.

If any rules exist in regards to what sort of foods are to be ingested during particular seasons, it'd be just another thing that the two off-worlders are unfamiliar and flat out ignorant of in this strange and sometimes boring world they call Terra.

Because dangit, sometimes, you just have to have ice cream. Even when you can see your breath crystalize in front of your face.

"…I don't get it. There were like, three of them in the area, right? How is it we haven't spotted a single Baskin Robbins?!" Two unusual figures make their way along the foot traffic on the sidewalks where normal people that haven't been mutated by questionable means are doomed to walk. The shorter of the pair is the one complaining, but that's only natural.

Rocket Raccoon, who as of yet /still/ (amazingly enough) has not been shown raccoons to see the resemblance (and knowing him, would probably still very much deny it), walks along, wearing a jacket over his usual clothes, boots and a hat. The less of him to be glimpsed, the less stares, he's figured. Of course, when you're beside a FLARKING WALKING TREE, it's kind of moot point. But they'd tried to make Groot a bit less conspicuous. He's got a scarf on. Ignore the bark.

"You sure this is the right direction? -wait, why am I even asking you? You are like, the /last/ person I should be asking directions from," Rocket grumbles, glancing towards Groot before his eyes drift towards the people around them. "…what is everyone looking at?" This is the trouble with being at knee level with people.

Alongside the semi-disguised raccoon, a tall walking humanoid that looks suspiciously like a giant tree saunters. Maybe it's all just a very complicated costume, lifelike in its knotty moulding. The guy wearing it seems all too comfortable in this skin.

"I am Groot," comes a slightly disgruntled reply, sullen due to not finding anything resembling the brightly-colored numerical logo on any of the buildings they've passed.

The last time he checked, he was sure the map said they were all around the area. How could a map be wrong??

As Rocket continues, Groot frowns thoughtfully, pausing to glance back up at everything. He's completely oblivious to the stares as he taps his barky jawline with two gnarled fingers. "I am Groot…"

A spider-girl swinging through the skies of New York is pretty impressive considering the documented Spider-Man (and the Daily Bugle articles that refer to him as the WEB-HEADED MENACE), but certainly there are more than a few stares and turned heads toward a short talking raccoon and his tree companion complaining about ice cream. Hitting the peak of a swing, Cindy releases her web-line and glides through the air, eyes turned down toward the streets below.

Wait, what—

On the list of things that she never thought she would see in her life, a raccoon and a tree walking down the streets of New York in the busy tourist-y section of town where any/one/ should be able to find just about any/thing/. Unless you're in costumes.

— are those costumes? Or are those— wait. No, it couldn't be.

Trajectories change; Cindy flips through the air, extending two fingers to send a fresh web-line out with a 'swip!' from the spinnerets in her fingertips. Clutching the line, she descends in an all-too-familiar method to the crimson and blue-clad Spider-Man, her legs tucked close.

"Are you and your son on the way to the costume party?" she asks Groot in his much larger, tree-like tree-costume, that has to be a tree, even though he's like, making tree sounds. "I didn't realize they had these kinds of things in the middle of the winter. I mean, like, is this like a Pokemon thing?"

Behind the mask covering the lower half of her face, Cindy's mouth pulls into a line. Her brows scrunch, and she squints.

"Pokemon is still a thing, right?" She stops, squints, and then adds, "I'm asking for a friend."

"…I'll just assume that you were too busy trying to find the shop sign," Rocket mutters as he eyes his friend. As people's heads turn, he looks up and around to try and catch a glimpse of what it is that's gotten these people's attention- which isn't too difficult once the person in question lands nearby.

"……." He squints right back at her, trying to connect just where it is that he's seen something similar before. Oh right, that bug guy…

"-wait, son?? HA HA HA!" he laughs rather obnoxiously as Cindy's question sinks in. Elbowing Groot's leg, he snickers as he looks back at the oddly dressed girl- if it can even be called 'dressed.' "Ain't no costume party we're lookin' for, so we can't help you with directions." Because clearly that's gotta be…some kind of costume. Who'd wear something like that otherwise? "Er. What the hell are you supposed to be anyway."

Pokemon. The raccoon snorts. "Yer not makin' any sense. We're just looking for the ice cream place. Thirty-One flavors or something! And it's only a dollar-somethin' a scoop today." Sorry Rocket, you're off a day.

With a shrug, Groot agrees with the accuracy of Rocket's assumption. Because he isn't a very tricky tree.

His attention is grabbed again once his little pal nudges him in the knee, blinking owlishly as he looks over at Cindy. He's quietly impressed by her landing, but also a little curious as to what she means by that. Rocket seems to be terribly amused by it, though.

"I am Groot," he says cheerfully, his words a mystery to those who can't understand him. He's not even sure what a Pokemon is. That's a thing? He really needs to catch up on Terran pop culture. As he glances between the two, he adds to the conversation. "I am Groot." Because his 'clarification' will clearly help give them the directions they need to go to this magical ice cream land.

The voice is — small. Not 'small' as in quiet, but coming from a much different source than she had expected. Her eyes shift slowly from Groot to Rocket, her mouth opening a bit under the mask as she stares at the space raccoon. Lowering a little more toward the ground, the spider-girl's head tilts to follow the movements of his jaw, his mouth— wait. No, seriously, wait.

"Shut /up/." It's not said aggressively, but in that way that shows shock, awe, and amazement. "Holy crap you're a talking raccoon."

But then he takes one look at her 'suit,' remarking on the quality— which to be fair it's better than last time!!— and the appearance. She frowns pretty hard, tugging at the silken strands, and then thinks about it for a moment. Spider-Man has his name, and she's got this outfit, and he's got that taken. "Hey, there's nothing wrong with my suit! I made it myself!!" Literally, too, not that she announces it.


Releasing the web-line— and letting it snap straight back up into the sky like a bungie cable, she twists before landing with a one-two touch of her feet to the ground, her hands placing on her hips. He is Groot. The other is a talking rodent. "Fine— you can call me Silk!" She says it proudly, too— a bit defiantly, even, before her curiosity gets the better of her.

Silk, spider-heroine of New York City, approaches the pair and stares at Groot for a few moments more before dropping into a squat and just /staring/ straight at Rocket. "Seriously, though, like, how are you talking? Are you like a puppet or something? And there's a guy inside the tree? Or is this anamatronics? Am I being Punk'd? Is Punk'd still a thing, too?"

"Asking for a friend."

His grin dropping off the face of the planet, Rocket almost growls. "I'm not a raccoon!" he insists, and by his tone, completely and wholeheartedly believes it. Folding his arms, he leers at her. "Made it yourself, well /clearly/. I mean, look'at it, it's all just…stuff wrapped around you. Not much to it. I've seen mummies in them movies with better wraps then that."

He arches a brow. "Silk. That's…that can't be your given name, can it?" What is it with Terrans and wanting to have weird nicknames? "Anyway, okay, fine, Silk, if that's what you insist going with." Eye-roll. "That's Groot, right, and I'm Rocket. And like Groot asked, do you know where the ice cream place is?" Pause. Glower. "…I am /talking/ through. My. /Mouth./ And he's got…well actually I dunno what he's got in there, but he's all tree inside for sure. An' who're you calling a punk?!"

Yes. Yes, he is a talking tree. No, there are no drugs or special effects in use. It's just how it is.

Groot makes an ooh-ing noise, applauding Silk's clean landing. He wishes he can do that. His mouth twists slightly as she goes on to speak face-to-face with Rocket, wincing a little once a sore subject is touched upon. It'll be fine — the smaller Guardian will make it clear he's not a raccoon, whatever that is.

He returns the shared look with his friend, glancing back at Silk as things ramble on. "I am Groot," he replies, waving a hand at that reference. He's sure he's seen it pop up on the side of his streaming escapades somewhere.

"H-Hey— you try making your own costume when you're pretty short on time and need to just get moving!" Cindy replies from her squatted position, jabbing a finger in Rocket's direction. "I mean, this is the best I can make right now, y'little pipsqueak!"

That time in the bunker has done nothing to help her social interaction. That, or she might be a little more like the Spider-Man than she realized.

Cindy— Silk— rises, taking a short hopping step backwards before making a big sweeping gesture to the far edge of some of the people that have stopped to gawk at the sight of the spider-girl, the talking raccoon, and Tree Diesel. "Thirty-One Flavors, so like, Baskin Robbins? Oh man, there used to be one in my old neighborhood, but right now it's just like. … Like. Ugh. … Look, there's probably one like over there or something. There's basically everything here if you just look for it. This is the tourist trap part of town."

'I am Groot.'

Cindy's eyes shift to the tree. "Hi, I'm Silk." Saying it again feels a bit better. This was a good pick, she thinks. Turning her attention back to Rocket, she cups one hand to the side of her mouth as though to talk without the tree-man hearing. "He doesn't say much. —Anyway there should probably be one over that way. Just be careful since this city's full of weird people and … stuff."

Cindy says, considering her company for a moment.

Rocket eyes Groot, frowning. "Oh, so that makes you an expert in Terran culture now, does it?" One day Groot's going to turn into a potato instead of the tree that he is. He should be more productive and make things, like explosives. Very therapeutic!

There's another thing he's not considered, much less understands now that Silk mentions it. "Uh. And /why/ need a costume? I mean, at a glance you may as well just be wearin' toilet paper armor because lady, that ain't doin' a thing for you." He bites down a snicker. Heh, toilet paper armor.

Snap-pointing at her, he nods. "And yes, that's the place. There's supposed to be at least three of them around here but either we've just been missin' it or that map we looked up is outdated." Waving a hand dismissively at her aside, he thumbs at Groot. "That's all he says. So quit introducing yerself cuz it gets old real quick, and it'll save you further embarrassment." He looks her up and down. "Or not."

And as she says the place is full of weird people, he just gives her this /look./

Hey, he likes potatoes. They're delicious. But explosives are totally still a thing he's up for doing sometime. That's one of the few things that gets him up from his IKEA couch.

Shrugging, Groot lets Rocket go on since he has more words to share with their new friend. Silk gets an apologetic smile, nodding at the repeat of the introduction. Silk. Silk is friend. Silk is definitely hitting it off with them.

And then he also snap-points, although his version is a little more clumsy. It's hard to snap with wooden fingers. "I am Groot!" THAT'S IT. BASKIN ROBBINS. What a weird name.

Obviously, Groot hasn't been aware of how strange their gathering is to everyone outside of the conversation. Not like it matters. He's used to being stared at.

So much for blending in.

For as much as Groot, Rocket, and Silk can blend in in the middle of New York, anyway. There's plenty of people jaded enough at the sight to just walk right by, and Cindy might've rubber-necked if she were in their position, but probably have just kept moving. Not that she would admit that, of course. Cindy's head turns again, scrunching up her brows and even bringing a finger up to her ear to poke at it and wiggle a finger around. Something's weird again, with that tingling feeling in her head. "Ugh."

Rocket interprets— or at least understands— what Groot is saying, and it brings Cindy's eyes to narrow hard. "You JUST said that's all he says, what the heck are you talking about now?!"

And one— last— insult. Cindy's cheeks suck in like she just had the world's most godawfully sour gobstopper, or Atomic Warhead Candy, or — something, something that makes the hackles stand up on end. "I swear if you don't shut up about my outfit— If you don't shut your little mouth, I'm gonna web you up," Silk says, stabbingly pointing her finger at Rocket, "And I'm gonna STICK YOU to the TREE."

Her eyes list from Rocket to Groot. "I mean no offense big guy, you seem cooler than Squeaks here."

"I can't help if the truth hurts!" Rocket huffs. If that finger gets close enough he is swatting it. For now, he points back. "It's not my fault you have no fashion sense! -is that what they call it?" He glances at Groot for confirmation in that before looking flatly at Silk as if what he says next is the most obvious thing ever. "And yeah, I said that's all he says, but its not all he /means/!"

What is with people around here? They speak a dozen languages and more on this planet so what's one more with limited phrasing? Rocket shakes his head.

"And what is it with webs? Is this a thing or something? Or are you related to the excitable bug guy?" Maybe they're like, siblings or something. They sure react the same way. …then again, so did that guy that called himself Ant-Man. Huh. Maybe this /was/ a bug thing.

Curious. Humans have strange little habits. The tree wonders if this kind of thing always happens, the ear-poking. Maybe Quill knows more about it. Quill seems to have plenty of those quirks.

As Silk says this, Groot nods. "I am Groot." He has a feeling it's all due to being caught up in the heat of the moment. It happens all the time.

He then looks at Rocket, nodding again. "I am Groot," he confirms. Fashion sense. That's the right term for it.

Now half-listening to their squabbling, Groot eventually huffs a small sigh, cupping one side of his bark-covered face with a branch hand. "I am Groot," he mutters under his breath to no one in particular. At this rate, they'll never get their ice cream.

At least this time, Cindy gets a good sense of what Groot is saying with his catchphrase, and the nod. The stabbing finger point drops, but the young girl's other hand comes up. "I have a TON of fashion sense! More than YOU do, I bet, so like, just— s-shut up!"

She wishes this would be easier. She didn't expect to have to talk to a lot of people today, let alone weird raccoon mutants and their tree buddies walking around and talking about /Terran pop culture/. For her part, Silk sucks in a deep breath, eyes closing while closing her hands up in front of her into tightly-balled fists. She isn't threatening, just… trying to get her center.

"Oh, like someone like /you/ knows Spider-Man."

Her head lifts, she stares off into the distance. Her eyes go wide.

OH MY GOD it would make so much sense if these two knew Spider-Man.

Silk lifts a hand to her temple, trying to not think about the headache that this is all starting to give her. She points down the street. She extends a hand up and out, index and middle fingers pointing… and then strands of webbing come not from a clicky device or a bracelet, but /straight out of her fingers/, anchoring high on a building while she pulls the line taut to test the elasticity. "Look, it's just— it's down that way! Just don't cause any trouble!"

To emphasize this point, she points at her eyes, then points at Rocket's eyes. Not Groot, though. Groot, she gives a thumbs-up.

"…what, is that seriously his name? And here I didn't think there could be anything worse than Star-Lord!" Rocket looks torn between laughing and wincing. Terrans! Really!

He'd like to think that he and Groot have gotten a rather good handle on Terran pop culture for the couple of months they've been here! You can learn so much on the internet! Even more than you'd care to want to know! Rocket just watches the strangely dressed human, a furry brow lifting as he sees her shoot off a fresh string of web. What. Even.

Know what, he's not even going to ask. That's just weird. Wait, is that the same stuff she wrapped around her?? Super weird. He steps back from her as though he's worried about getting web-cooties or something, but as Silk gives him that typical 'I'm watching you' gesture, the raccoon rolls his eyes.

"Look, we're not here to kill anyone or blow anything up. We just want some ice cream." Wait, is he serious? He's sure not going to say. Instead, he gives Groot a light whack on the leg, turning to head down the street where Silk had pointed. "C'mon, Groot."

The girl distracts Groot from his little train of thought, derailing it properly with the demostration of webbing things, leading through with the thumb's up. He smiles that dumb smile of his, returning the gesture in full.

As Rocket explains their situation, the tree nods in silent confirmation of what they're supposed to be doing. He's then whacked on the leg. It doesn't hurt, but Groot snorts, waving at Silk as he turns to follow the raccoon. "I am Groot!"

Cindy squints at the look of shock, dismay, and all of that weird in-between stuff Rocket is displaying. She takes the Spider-mocking a little seriously, but the reasons behind that are a little personal for a literal talking raccoon she just met on the street not too long ago. He does give his assurances, though, and for a moment, the young spider-girl opens her mouth to say /something/, maybe even apologize, but she's just that:

Young, and stubborn.

She sighs, then nods at the tree. Lowering into a bit of a squat, Silk vaults off the ground with superhuman prowess, grip shifting to catch the web-line higher with one hand and start the swing off further down the street, high above the crowds. She has a plan, now, at least, when she gets back to Alias Investigations.

Because she's gonna spend /so much time/ designing a better costume for herself, and it's gonna look /awesome/. And Squeaks can just deal with it.

"Freedom is weird."

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