Cindy Takes A Beating!

February 14, 2017:

Cindy is mistaken for another Spider and has a nice calm conversation with the Iron Monger

New York, New York


NPCs: None.

Mentions: Spider-Man


Mood Music: [*\# None.]

Fade In…

New York City, New York.

It's an unusual sound, one that can meld into the back of the mind, especially if that mind is wired to sense danger from afar. A sound like a hallow shriek, one that fills the air with terror made manifest in the form of projectiles streaking forth towards a ten story building at the end of a very unassuming block in Brooklyn.

Then the missiles turn. Then they accelerate. Three of them racing towards the general speed and movement of a creature that The Iron Monger had tasked certain assets to look for.

Movement that would indicate the presence of Spider-Man.

A mistake has been made, but not an unhappy one, and as the micro-missiles race towards our web-slinging hero, careening around buildings with precise, repulsor based agility, somewhere an old man smiles.

As of late his life has been one meeting after another, and all the new systems were ready. He should wait until a real threat is leveled. Should wait for some /reason/ to test his new technology. But he has learned since first taking on his armored alter-ego that really, the first and best reason to do anything…

…is to feel young again.

Movement that would, yes— but it is not, in fact, the amazing Spider-Man.

Silk has been something of a footnote in the media, at least as far as spider-people are concerned; she's still introducing herself after swinging in to save the day for citizens, pet lovers, and concerned business owners, but she has to believe that she's making a positive effect somewhere in New York. Spider-Man's taught her some things, and it's helped her move faster, think faster… even get a little more used to her extrasensory abilities:

Abilities that are incredibly sharp, potent, and precise.

Reaching the apex of her swing, Cindy twists in mid-air to look behind her and get a good lay of the land: Those are missiles. Those are missiles, coming straight at her. Those are tiny little missiles, filled with death, that are coming straight at her and they are moving really really smartly and /what/.

Spider-Man did not prepare her for freaking missiles.

One arm slings back, fingers pointing ahead to the building at the corner. Go for a short line, tuck in tight, swing /really fast/. Oh god. How does her voice calling work? Can she call for Jessica right now? Maybe if she thinks really, really hard about Spider-Man, Peter Parker will come running for her? Or Az!! Wait, can Az fly?? No, wait, what about NO WAIT shit she doesn't have Tony's number—

Cindy's fingers release a long slick of silken webbing, and she rounds the corner at a low-to-high angle, picking up velocity and flinging herself high into the air with double the speed— and hopefully, give her enough time to come up with a quick plan.


As if sensing their prey is cornered, the missiles release a small burst of acceleration, homing in, racing forward… and then they miss, Cindy's agility taking her low to high and in an arc that is impossible for the missiles to match in time.

Spift. SpiftSpiftSpiftSpiftSpift.

Each of the three missiles splits.

Into three more missiles.

They become erratic, clearly nearing the end of whatever power they might have, and the next sound is the sound of a projectile zipping past the swinging Cindy to spiral away and hit a water tower.


The explosion is muffled by the sudden deluge of water that rushes across the building. There's no damage. No loss of life. It might be a minor miracle. Except that the explosion was not a /normal/ explosion. The shockwave of blue light that ripples outward clearly has some concussive effect, but does not seem hell bent on breaking buildings in half.


Somewhere in the distance, something else will tug at Silk's spider-sense from almost half a mile a way. Then a railgun round is let loose and, adding yet another projectile, this one streaking the sky as an air-warping fireball that outpaces any conventional munition.

A water tower blowing out is unfortunate— hopefully she can do something to help out the owners of the building after this is handled— but with one more look over her shoulder she sees the burst of blue light and rippling shockwaves as they erupt against the surface and make the rooftop a whole lot more wet and quite possibly ruin someone's rooftop garden.

'That isn't good,' she thinks to herself.

Landing on a ledge in a squat, she thinks for the moment that she's safe— and then she hears that noise again, the tingling in the back of her head ramping up quickly. Cindy's eyes widen, and the half-mask covering the back of her face stretches a bit as her mouth opens wide.

"Oh my God who did I piss off—"

And then she leaps again, springing off the building and flinging a fresh web-line out to swing low and away. As she comes back up, Cindy releases the line, launching high into the air— albeit a bit slower than before, and her fingers fan out wide. Webbing sprays in wide arcs as she attempts to make a thick bag of high-tensile material, hoping to ensnare the missiles before they get too close, and—

— and then a sharp sense of danger, though she can't even tell from which direction it's coming from wait no OVER THERE—

— and the spider-girl's body contorts /ridiculously/ fast, the blast narrowly missing a direct hit, but the shockwave associated with a supersonic projectile enough to send Silk off-angle, eyes clamped shut as it feels like her internal organs just shifted an inch to the left.

When Cindy's eyes open again, she's on a high rooftop— and god her side hurts from that landing. Pushing up from the gravel, the spider-heroine scrambles to get back to her feet and get her bearings again.

"IF I PISSED SOMEONE OFF I'M REALLY SORRY!" she calls out to the air, eyes wide and wary.

The skyline lights up blue, a dance ephemeral of inhuman acrobatics and super-tech shockwaves, and for those below, a shadow dancing against blue fireworks, unaware of the numbing pain that just barely grazes Silk's backside, nor the sudden streak of something hot and deadly as she contorts to force a miss.

The explosion of another rooftop as the round penetrates and transfers it's kinetic energy is almost deafening. But by then, Cindy's coming back to the world, on another rooftop. Shouting her apologies to the sky. How polite.

The great hulking monstrosity that meant to land on her, meant to crush her, hits the roof just shy of her before her last word leaves her mouth, caving it in and sending the floors beneath into an immediate collapse that reveals a building under construction that simply could not take the weight of the Iron Monger.

Floor after floor collapses, the conundrum set as anything that might prove to be a good web anchor is succumbing to gravity as well.

The four walls of the building will hold, as will some parts of the floors above, but the rest forms a rubble pile inside, the sound of it all heeding to a sudden, silent stop.

Then it churns. Motors whirl, the very air bleeds danger, and a blue halo of light in the form of eyes and a chest piece rises with a palpable menace like a phoenix from the ashes. Metal grinds as fingers curl and targeting sensors look for a very /specific/ heat signature, the low rumble of it's voice modulator giving some sound of displeasure or another as it finally shrugs off some slab of the floor above and rises to it's full, twelve foot height.

Behold, The Iron Monger Mark II.

There's nothing out there— not that she can see immediately. But how long was she out for? Was it a second, or a minute, or— or, her question can be answered before she even finishes her sentence. Plunging down from on high, Cindy feels her Silk-senses raging again in a way that feels like housekeys being dragged down piano wire. Dazed, she can't get away fast enough for the roof to start collapsing beneath them, plunging down one floor after another in a cacophany of drywall and wiring and supports and concrete, and—

— and Cindy starts flinging globs of webbing from wall to wall through the dirt and dust and haze, trying to keep things from collapsing any further than that. Dust stings her eyes, tension fills her body, and … this giant-ass metal suit is quite literally over one story tall.

The sight is, frankly, intimidating. The silhouette is incredibly massive; the imposing nature, the metal in every direction, the fact that this thing is probably what fired that shot at her /and/ what sent those missiles after her. What was his goal? What was the purpose of this? She needs to take this very seriously. Fortunately, the red mask covering the lower half of her face is filtering most of the dust from her lungs, allowing her to draw in enough of a breath to ask…

"So are you Tommy the Tin Man?"

After that split-second of hesitation, the spider-girl acts: Her fingers sweep forward, fanned out wide, as that organic spider-silk goes flying out in thick globs aimed at the Iron Monger's faceplate with the hopes to blind it— then her arm swings upward with a webline meant to get her the hell /out/ of there with the hopes this thing can't get a hand on her.

"Not the bug I was looking to crush, but a most impressive display. You'll do just -"

The webbing impacts the metal man's faceplate, a split second after that question rings out. There's borble of ironic laughter, and the new, far more advanced flight system kicks into gear, helping along a leap that will culminate in a metal hand snagging one of Silk's legs.

It's fortunate that she already lined the walls with webbing, it'll take the sting off the impact when he throws her through the wall and sends her out into the alley beyond.

"I've made that mistake before. I thought about removing the eyes entirely from the suit, but then I wouldn't get to bait little heroes like yourself into thinking I had a blindspot."

It might be a tactical error to grab Cindy, only to let her go moments later. Obadiah, reveling in the thrill and power of his suit, almost does not consider it. But finally he levels a hand, open palmed, in the direction that he sent Cindy careening, an aperture opening to allow a beam of repulsor energy to lance out towards her. The decision, the hesitation, was certainly a mistake.

While he's firing blindy after her, his other hand reaches up, pulling at the webbing on his faceplate to free up those sensors - just one of many. When Tony ripped out the Mark I's targeting system, Obadiah learned he should have a few pairs of backup eyes.

"Most /impressive/. The tensile strength is like nothing I've seen before! Tell me, little bug, is this something you designed yourself?"

Pulling on the web-line to get a bit more speed added to her movement, Cindy is confident that she's about to get out of there, until— then there's one massive set of metal fingers curling around her leg. Incredibly strong though she may be, the weight of a twelve foot tall, thousands-of-pounds suit of armor and the force it can generate wins out— and the line snaps just above her hand before her grip does.

"Clever quip to mask fear—"

Cindy hits rubble with a stiff cry, then a wall, then another wall, and— now the crisp sting of February weather— wait, now she's outside. Her arms catch her weight on the surface, feet skittering to give her a bit of traction.

Her eyes open— and she sees that repulsor beam.

Silk /lunges/ to the left, hitting the wall of the ruined-in-construction building with the Iron Monger. Her next series of moves are incredibly fast— she darts between the two buildings in an alternating zig-zag of lunges until she makes it out to the corner. Rather than run, she flicks a web-line against the corner, swinging out over the streets of New York…

"Well your junk heap looks so retro-trash—"

… and then arcs back through the open space of where the windows should be, intent on driving both legs forward in an intense spider-strength kick at the Iron Monger's side.

"—I had to give it a shot!!"

Did she design it herself?

"Something like that!" 'Organic' is in now, right?

The sensors do their job. He can follow her with the beam. For about half a second. But this suit is only as quick as it's operator, and Obadiah Stane's reactions are no match for Cindy's. Up. Left. Right. She comes at him from a place he'd already scanned, and suddenly the Iron Monger reaps what he sowed when he threw Silk through that wall in the first place.

The repulsor beam, however, does not shut off. It rips through the building even as The Iron Monger is send careening out of it.

There's a deep rumble.

The sound of metal twisting, finally giving away.

The building is coming down, and the terrible dust cloud that follows washes over the Iron Monger as he finally comes to a stop - right in front of a taxi that was trying very hard to make it down town.

The car tries to stop. It really dies, breaks squeeling.


It ends up being a fender bender against the Iron Monger's head, but as servos whirl and it's feet plant, the metal creature does not seem amused. One great hand lands on the side of the car, and with a heaving toss the Iron Monger sends it - and it's occupants, into a flying roll back towards the collapsed building it was so forcefully ejected from.

"Maybe I'm taking the wrong tact with you. Maybe collateral damage will help you show me everything you've got!"

That's right. The Iron Monger thinks Cindy is holding back. It certainly doesn't look worse for wear just yet.

The massive suit of armor is sent flying, even as it further damages the building's supports and leaves Cindy left in a bit of a pickle— she has to escape, before the place comes down on her /entirely/. He lands in the street, right in front of a taxi— and as Cindy leaps clear of the dust cloud, her eyes open wide. He's not gonna—

He's gonna—



Cindy runs between the building and the car, weight shifting as she braces her weight forward and extends her arms. She hasn't tested the limits of her strength yet— sure, she's had weights to exercise with for years, but she hasn't really /tested/ herself, even now that she's out of the bunker, and—

— and then she physically catches the car, feeling the muscles in her abdomen tighten, her feet plant and toes spread for balance as her spider-enhanced grip on both vehicle and ground kicks in—


— And she balances the weight, holding the taxi horizontally over her head, getting comfortable with the weight of the car. Setting the vehicle back down, she looks inside at both driver and occupant with a bit of a harried look on her face. "Get out of here, now!!"

Cindy jumps the hood of the car, sliding across it to help her cross the distance to the Iron Monger— and rather than go high, attacking that helmet, she goes /low/, tucking her shoulder down and running straight at the massive suit of power armor in an attempt to take the leg right back out from under it— and keep a grip on the leg, if she can, to try to keep the suit tripped up!

"I don't know what your beef is with me, but I'm not gonna let you do this!!"

"That's more like it."

The suit calculates the weight and speed of the car in mid air. It calculates the amount of force needed to bring it to that stop, as well as the tensile strain it can see in her core. A slow tilt of it's head, a motion mimicked by the operator, as /so/ much data comes pouring in.

"You're mistaken, little bug. I had come looking for Spider-Man. It seems you have plenty in common, however, so I'm not complaining. Though make sure if you find the need to, you tell that masked menace that each and every bruise you're going to accumulate here today is /his/ fault. I wonder if he ever considered his other masked friends at risk.. before /today/."

There isn't a sound when Silk takes hold and twists and shifts, using that impressive strength in another manner. The leg is forced sidelong, pitons in the feet jut into the ground but do not hold under that magnificent strength, allowing only a small measure of purchase that turns into a slide. There's a shift on the Iron Monger's arm as three spheres pop off the side and tumble to the ground with a metallic clank.

The flashbangs are not the kind that get shot through windows before running down bailjumpers. These are the nuclear option, lighting up the street and throwing shadows to the sky in the shape of buildings. Cars will swerve, people will cry out more than a block away.
But if Cindy keeps hanging on she'll get a gentle reminder to let go when a massive fist comes swinging in to dislodge her.

On the plus side, those people in the car made it out, made it to cover.

Silk almost certainly saved their lives.

"Gosh, and here I thought this was like a lottery and I won big!"

Her Silk-senses flare through that constant noise in her head— a sharp note in that constant drag, turning her head to spot those orbs. Her eyes close, but the brilliance of the light is /staggering/, enough that clamping her eyes shut and turning her head is just not quite enough, leaving her dazed and pushing against that leg a little harder— but then letting go.

The fist comes swinging in at Cindy, in turn, and her arms lift reactively to actually /catch/ the Iron Monger's fist, though the distraction and the impressive follow-through of the power armor starts her off on an on-the-feet skid similar to what she did to him, then carries through with enough force to send the spider-girl sprawling off across the asphalt.

As Cindy sits upright, vision still burning and giving her shapes more than fine details, there's something a little different in her eyes— she looks … angry.

'Gotta get through that armor somehow, gotta rip through it, gotta—'

Two fingers point forward, a tight line of webbing shooting at the Iron Monger's chestplate in order to give her a good, solid anchor-point to grab onto. Her right hand pulls back, though still visible: Gobs of webbing actually ooze from the tips of her fingers before setting and hardening quickly into extensions of her fingers— hooking into the form of claws.


Using that web-line as an anchor, using all of her strength and the elasticity of the line to pull herself forward, Silk comes in flying like a bat out of hell at the Iron Monger, aiming to drive those claws straight into the middle of the chestplate like some kind of rage-fuelled spider-cat.

After Cindy goes flying, the Iron Monger spots something odd. Something.. interesting. There's a quick scan of the phone she left behind. No super-tech there.

The slow grind of metal as it looks up at her, as her anger wells, is meant to be a gaze-meeting crescendo that ends with a slight adjustment of one foot.

The phone bears the weight of the Iron Monger. For a moment.


RIP, Cindy's phone.

When she comes flying at him, the metal monstrosity's electronically modified voice breaches the air: "That's it. SHOW ME YOUR POWER!"

The voice booms out, just as Silk slams home. The blow is a staggering one, forcing the great metal man to take two big steps back and drag a hand along to catch a lamp post - which promptly topples over. Those claws dig in. Slowly. Methodically.

But this is not Iron Man's armor. This is thick.

"Exceptional! Ingenuity! Adaptability! I'm /impressed/. But rage is a poor substitute for tactics, and a worse substitute for real power."

Thick, powerful hands clamp down on her shoulders, as she falls short of powering those claws into the operator beneath. But he doesn't squeeze. Doesn't crush. He just makes certain she can't get away.

The head cants forward, even as the great behemoth's back arches just so. "Take this as my highest compliment: I hope you survive this."

The chest RT flares to life. It will fire for point 2 seconds before The Iron Monger lets go, point-blank blasting his new spider-frand in the general, arcing direction…

…of the East River.

Jessica Jones spent like ten dollars on that phone.

Now, completely flattened— destroyed into fragments of fragments on top of fragments of chips, from circuits to screen to sim cards to hard drive to ability to watch cat videos on youtube, on her /phone/. — and, Cindy will notice later.

Once those claws dig in— hard— she starts to curl her fingers in, pull, try to rend and tear through the armor in the hopes of finding the source of power— or the man— inside the metal monstrocity, struggling even as the hands come sweeping in to hold tight against her. Silk's senses rage, bringing her to look down at the chestplate with wide eyes before the beam actually charges, halfway through the Iron Monger's modulated voice.

She knows it's coming.

Cindy's left hand pushes out, webbing starting to fly out of her fingers in as thick of a messy blast of spider-silk as her arm can generate before the blast impacts with it— and her, consequently. The claw-tips break off, the suit tears, and Silk lets out a startled cry as the concussive force of the repulsor beam sends her flying through the air, body limp as she sails over traffic, over concerned onlookers, over /a lot/. For a second, she can swear she sees the Williamsburg Bridge.

Then, the cold sting of smacking into water at speeds that make liquid feel more like concrete.

Everything aches— /everything/. Her senses are on fire. It's hard to breathe.
Long, raw moments pass where some onlookers are rushing to the rails along the riverside, then Cindy Moon's head breaks surface, a mess of red, black, and white as she starts to scale her way up the side of the wall, over the rail, and then tumbles into a heap seated on the ground. She's breathing hard, eyes foggy, suit torn, and the length of her hair a matted-down mess… but surprisingly, the suit is holding up better than it rightly should have from /all of this/.

Shit. Say something. Say anything.

"'ey, I didn't hear a bell," Silk says to no one in particular, jaw setting under her mask.

Shit not that.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 License