A Whole New World

February 25, 2017:

Spider-Woman investigates S.I.L.K. Industries and fails all of her stealth checks. In a fight with her world's Otto Octavius and Cindy Moon, she is thrown into an experimental teleporter and sent to this world.

S.I.L.K. Industries


NPCs: Otto Octavius



Mood Music: None.

Fade In…


As Spider-Woman has investigated a new threat in New York City, there has been word on the street of an organization working on cutting edge scientific experiments. With the rise of weird science baddies that Gwen has been fighting, she feels the need to check this place out. It takes a long few weeks of investigation and detective work, but she thinks she has located the building in Washington Heights that houses the S.I.L.K. lab.

While bright white, pink and black is not exactly the stealthiest of color combinations, it helps that she's generally in places people do not think to look. Spider-Woman has waited for the middle of the night to infiltrate the lab, climbing the outside walls onto the roof. "Spider-stealth mode activated!" Gwen whispers to herself, proudly.

Of course, immediately upon landing on the roof, she hears, "Hold it!"

Whirling around, she shoots a web at the guard, ensaring the gun and yanking it out of the man's hands. "Man, you're going to make me replay this stealth level, aren't you? Totally unfair." Leaping up into the air, she lands on him, and then tosses against the edge of the roof hard enough to knock him out, but not toss him off. Webbing his hands together behind his back, she sighs and rifles through his pockets for a keycard. Grabbing a few that look likely, she gives a little salute. "Thanks for the help, Guard NPC! Stealth mode re-activated."

Making her way toward the roof door, she uses the white slip of plastic to swipe through the super-high-tech-electronic looking key access. Holding her breath for a second, she hears a little ping! And the light turns green. Slipping in, she immediately climbs her way onto the ceiling and makes her way as silently as possible through the hallways. "Yesss, roof access level cleared, time to start infiltration level."


Washington Heights. In another place, this could be residential apartments— a nice place to live, where you could raise a family and not have to worry about all the problems in the world. In another place, there would be kids, and hockey rinks nearby, money, friends— one of the best pizza joints in the area is just five blocks down from here. Now, the high-rise building dominates the block— and there is an intruder.

Amazingly, S.I.L.K. does not know it yet.

The halls are long, straight, sterile, and the walls reinforced. Wrapping around most of the two penthouse levels in an L-shape, there's both staircase and elevator access to the rest of the building, but there doesn't seem to be any way in or out of that particular part of the building— not even, so it seems, rooftop access. There's even mirrored windows! Probably bulletproof. What's more, the only cameras in the hall are set in the corner, easy enough to dispatch or dodge if you have the right amount of spider-reflexes, insight, and enough time logged in Metal Gear Solid.

"I'm tellin' ya, man— the octopus is more intelligent than the Doc," says Agent 209.

"Whole frickin' lot of them gives me the creeps. The sooner we drop the box off in the lab, the sooner we can punch out. I've got a date tonight," replies Agent 178.

The two men standing in front of the roof access elevator have their backs turned; clad in sweaters in varying shades of gray, black pants, and full-head masks with large, almost Spider-Woman-like lenses of red over the eyes. Short-barrel high-tech rifles are worn on slings with a sidearm at their hip and knife in tactical harness. Between the two of them, they're carrying a metallic container with large handles on either side; 'S.H.I.—' partially emblazoned across the surface before the paint is scuffed and scraped off. Maybe a bit of blood, too.

209 laughs. "Careful, man, that's like saying you're two weeks from retirement. You want something bad to happen?"
"The hell could happen on a Friday?"


What could happen on a Friday, indeed? Really, they should know better than to talk like that.

On the ceiling, Spider-Woman assesses the cameras, moving stealthily about them when she can, covering others with webbing should she not have a clear way around them without showing herself.

It doesn't take long for her to find the Agents carrying the box. Going to the lab, they say? Well, isn't that just perfect? They can lead her right to where she wants to go! Plus, they're fun to quip at in her head. At least one of them seems to be genre-savvy.

Above them, she silently makes her way around the security cameras and moves so that she is nearby. When those elevator doors open, she'll try and sneak in while their backs are turned. It's a tall order, but she's trying to keep out of sight while following them. She'll fight them if she has to, but she is attempting to continue this level in stealth mode.

Flattening herself against the corners of the wall, she tries to blend in, though it's hard against mirrored windows, but she'll try. Hopefully these guards are distracted by their own conversation and a desire to get out of here.


[Silk rolls 2 on 1d2.]



The elevator doors slip open with a few heavy clunks and a grind; while the hallway seems to be fairly upkept, the elevator and roof access is not often the subject of super important janitorial work. More often than not, it's where folks sneak off for a smoke break without leaving the building. As they stride into the elevator with the radioactive Spider-Gwen crawling along the ceiling and she sneaks inside, 209 turns to look at 178 while thumbing through his phone. "Did they change the wifi password AGAIN?"

"Yeah, it's like, 'climbwall99' today, but with like, a 1 for the i and 4 for the a."

At either side of the elevator, the two guards pull a set of red cards to the roof-guard's white, synching themselves up at readers on opposite sides of the doors before flicking them down and pressing the button. As the elevator begins the descent, 209 starts flicking through apps while the other is having a good time tapping his foot to the disgustingly saccharine elevator music.

Then, 178's head tilts. His eyes narrow behind red lenses. His neck cranes to let him look straight up.


The box fumbles in his arms as he goes for his gun; the sudden weight of the box flopping to 209's side and damn near pulling the man down off his feet. The box crashes against the floor, his head turning—

To no one other than the Spider-Woman and his good friend, he issues the classic goon battlecry of, "Intruder!!"


Moving through the hallways, Gwen poises herself to be ready. As soon as the door bongs open, she's quick to fling herself to the wall, then down, around and up. She tries to keep her breath steady and quiet. Keeping herself flat against the ceiling, she waits. Already she's getting some good intel. There's the wifi password and they're already pressing the button to take them down to the lab.

Then, before she can move out of the way, 178 rolls his head and catches sight of her. "Oh hey. Uh, could you hit lobby for me?"

As the box crashes to the floor, she shoots webbing at 178, trying to catch his hand to his side. "I was hoping for a tour. You know, I've got this dissected frog that I was hoping to show off. Do you guys take appointments?"

More webbing goes straight to 209's face as she lands on his side of the box he still holds and then swings about to kick him right in the side of his head. Launching sideways, she attempts to crash into 178 and knock against the side of the elevator.


The sidearm gets about halfway out of the holster before webbing splatters against 178's side, getting his arm, gun, and hand all stuck to his torso as the point-blank shot staggers him in the elevator. 209 is about to do the same, but then takes a big faceful of webbing that snaps his head back just before the perpendictular force sends him face-first into the button panel with a crash of metal. He drops to his knees before the adhesive webbing catches to the elevator itself— and leaves him face-first against the swing-panel door for the emergency phone inside the elevator.

178 attempts to twist his weight and plant for a punch, but his free arm is too far out for a good swing at Gwen; he slams into the wall of the elevator and the whole box jars and shakes violently as the Agent of S.I.L.K. hits the wall and slides to the floor. Despite both agents being well trained, neither are particularly strong enough to ward off the hits from a woman this strong inside such a tight space! The lights flicker for a moment, a buzzer rings— not a building-wide security alarm, but a warning about the elevator becoming briefly unstable.

The lights go red, then dark— then after a second the elevator starts moving again, the lights coming up. The sealed box, left on it's side, buzzes slightly— it isn't inheritly dangerous, but there is most definitely a 'this side up' label pointing to the surface that is now pointing at one of the walls. More importantly—

— the elevator is just about at it's destination.

One way or another, when that elevator issues the *bong* again, the doors open to the hall and doors to the laboratory level. The halls are almost identical to that of the roof access hallways, with only a few letters and numbers marking floor and what wing leads to where; the main lab just ahead and with a few smaller labs and offices scattered around the floor.

The main event— the main laboratory— is /huge/. Perhaps taking up two floors of the building in and of itself, the room is divided by partitions and projects, a few large pieces of machinery and equipment stringing up to the floor above and into the darkness, consoles and technology on the bleeding edge of all things this Earth has to offer. Digital displays along one wall list off the kind of technical gibberish; a small bank of screens show news from around the world (corporations restructuring, destabilizing, or with important figures either being deposed or installed into power!) and the lights over various projects seem to be more than enough for some to work by.

The whole thing is incredibly James Bond.

"Keep me informed of your progress, Otto," a shockingly young woman's voice says, aptly enough, in the shadows. The other— a man in his early forties, portly, brown hair, and wearing scientific goggles. His labcoat is utterly immaculate, and he seems to enjoy his work a little too much. "Of course, ma'am. It's only proof-of-concept, but it should be stabilized within the hour. With this, S.I.L.K. will reach greater heights than ever before!"


Spider-Woman lands on the side of the buzzing box, crouching. Taking a few deep breaths, she looks at the unconscious bodies around her and sighs. "Man, I'm not getting the level achievement for this one," Gwen sighs. Looking at the side of the box, she steps off the side and then tips the box back so it's right side up with a loud crash.

Well, she's failed the stealth portion of this mission each time she's tried it, but she'll keep moving. As the doors bong open, she holds the door, pulling the unconscious bodies out of the elevator and then then the heavy box. Better to have that out in the hallway somewhere than moving up and down for anyone to find them.

Rubbing a hand across her masked face, she goes back into stealth mode, this time against walls rather than the ceiling. She looks around silently, attempting to make her way to a place get some answers. After a few doorways, she finally finds the main labratory. "Hello Mr. Goldfinger," Spider-Woman whispers.

Carefully, she starts to make her way around the outskirts of the lab. Carefully, she makes her way up the wall and quietly amends to herself, "and Mrs. Goldfinger, I guess." Huh. Greater heights and S.I.L.K. That certainly sounds like supervillain scientist talk.

"Tell me more, creepy shadow voice," she says softly.


[Silk rolls 2 on 1d2.]


The young woman sighs. From the angle that Gwen reaches, she's still nothing more than a silhouette, but it's one that shows a hint of exasperation. "I appreciate your enthusiasm, but it's just a first test. Make sure the capacitor banks are charged and keep the forcefields up— I don't want a quantum fold ripping through my apartment."

The portly scientist moves past the table, past a tank with some kind of thrashing sea life living inside it, and to a large machine— one of the few places in the lab where the lighting is up to full. It looks like a partial archway of some kind, the console on the side illuminated with a holographic display as he continues to type.

"Of course not, Superior— I apologize. I am merely anticipating the next stage of the plan. We will stride the globe with greater ease than before— no kingmakers behind the scenes of this world will be able to defy us."

The silhouette moves toward the doors— not the ones Gwen entered from, but from a second set at the northern wall. She moves with confidence, poise, and authority— and despite not ever getting a good look at her features, the upturned collar and flare of a crimson red coat follows in her wake. The doors slip open in front of her, and there's a pause as her head turns— just slightly— and Gwen can ALMOST see her face clearly, but all that long hair and the sweet coat, too, but—

"We'll see if your confidence is warranted in an hour, Otto."

Just after the doors slip closed, the sea life sloshes in the container again. It's looking across the lab, into the high, dark outskirts of the laboratory. It's like it's staring straight at Gwen— not in the way an animal spots a human before fleeing, but… with intelligence. Cunning.

It doesn't just 'see' her, it /knows/ she's there.

The octopus-creature burbles, tentacles lifting it up and out of the canister and pushing the body out. A strange jewel is inset above it's eyes, shining in the way only a piece of super-science can.

It /knows/.


Mr. Goldfinger moves away from the console as the creature's size suddenly doubles— then triples— then /what the fuck is going on it's huge/. An identical gemstone to the creature's is now set on his forehead, above the goggles, while the creature wraps tendrils around his chest and body and has the strength to /lift him into the air/. Two tendrils grip a heavy rolling table by the handle-grip, /flinging/ it straight at Gwen— a cover for his sudden, incredibly fast advance!


Gwen attempts to get higher and higher to see if she can get a good vantage point on the woman speaking. Unfortunately, she gets little clue as to her identity. So far, so good. There's an evil scientist, something in a sloshy container, some delcaration of confidence and a time limit. This is great, she's really hit on something here.

It's as she's trying to get a better look at whatever that creature is that it looks at her. Huh, that's weird. Wait, is it still looking at her. Oh, it's burbling, that's creepy, wait it's getting out of the container, that's not good. Oh crap, they've noticed her.

"Oh, who, me? I'm just here to catch the eight o'clock show. Think I've seen this one, though, didn't like all the characters other than the heroine. Think I'll screen hop. Forgot my popcorn, anyway—ack!" Then, there's a rolling table that is flung right at her on the wall.

The Spider-Woman immediately drops from the wall to dodge the heavy object. "Crap crap. That is SO CREEPY DUDE!" she yells at him as she attempts to web away from both tentacles and man. One, however, manages to snag her around her leg.


The table crashes against the wall; machinery and parts scatter across the wall and room while the table drops to the floor with an incredibly loud crash. Technicians and scientists also in the lab have varying reactions— some hide behind their workstations, others bolt for the door and the safe space provided by the building security. And then you have Dr. Goldfinger— or 'Otto'— and his forward charge with the odd purple-green murder octopus slithering around him in a manner more like a natural appendage than two separate entities.

"Don't worry— you can stay for the next show… but I guarantee that the heroine will not escape in this picture!!"

One tentacle manages to snag and slither around the Spider-Woman's leg while the web-line forms. The creature holds tight, then a second and third lash out in an attempt to catch Gwen around the waist, then /pull/ with all the weight of the odd mutant octopus and rotund scientist dropping down toward the floor.

"'Creepy?' You foolish child— this is the advancement of SCIENCE!!" he cries, the octopus lashing out with those arms— seeking to throw Gwen back out of his grasp and at the tables in the room, ever-closer to that unusual half-arch machine at the far side of the lab.

"These are the hallowed halls of S.I.L.K.!!"

Meanwhile, the personal elevator to the penthouse stops somewhere around the 25th floor. The young woman in the red coat opens her left hand, the metallic scrape of the large gauntlet opening ringing out as a holographic image hovers over her palm. Security is yelling about breaches, alarms start going off. She punches a few buttons on the console, then punches the button for the lab.

Cindy Moon, billionaire, genius, spymaster, and director of S.I.L.K. smiles.



"Obviously you're not watching the right-OOF," Spider-Woman quips. The tentacle wraps around her ankle and she comes up short, dropping to the ground with a thud. "Oww," she hisses. Kicking at the slimy arm around her in an attempt to get it to release her.

As the other arms come slinging out toward her, she tosses more webbing to grab one, but the other manages to grab her. "Yeah, well, your version of the advancement of science seems to involve wrapping mutant octopuses around yourself and bejazzling your forehead. I think I'm good."

The lights flash, the alarms go off and Gwen keeps attempting to fight her way out. This is definitely not going the way she hout it was going to go! It started off so well! Actually, it started off already kind of messed up, but she's going to ignore that.

An arm swings forward and a string of strong web comes forward and attaches to a heavy box. Using the fact that the tentacles have her in place, she yanks forward with all her might in an attempt to pull it forward with enough force to hit him in the back of the head. Maybe that will get to release her.

The voice is given a look around, slightly startled. "Uh, yeah, but I'm on another call right now."


It was definitely an 86% stealth rate after the roof. Maybe 84%. Or 80%.

As the private elevator descends, Cindy's smile has given way to an amused, curious smirk— the holographic display splits into four parts, showing multiple angles of the fight as small quirks of her fingers shift the cameras and allow her to focus on the movements of the Spider-Woman: How she moves, how she kicks back at the living appendages of Otto Octavius and his friendly familiar, and how she recovers from each and every aspect of his attacks.

She's memorizing all of it— aggressively…

While using Gwen for a game of whack-a-spider with the lab equipment, Otto's confidence briefly turns to outrage. "You dare trivialize the contributions we are making to the world?! The magnificence of our plans— what is being done for the world?! You— are foolish!!"

Then, a big heavy box goes straight into his face. Otto Octavius is, like the guards, merely human, letting out a hard cry as he falls back, caught from hitting the floor only by the good graces of his giant octopus friend. It releases Gwen in the process, albeit a bit violently; the arms curl back to shield the scientist in the next moment from follow-up attacks while the man takes a moment to gather his faculties.

"Aw, I was hoping we could have a nice chat. Be friends," Cindy continues. "Unfortunately, you arriving /now/ was not in my timetable. I'll have to detain you for the time being."

The main doors to the lab open; security guards in the same masks and uniforms start opening fire. Equipment snaps and pops, glass beakers shatter, and screens pop as the weapons fire tries to herd Gwen toward one corner— and one stray shot catches the console at the partial archway. It starts to hum and spin up, crackling with blue-green light across multiple contact points. The room floods with the stink of ozone.

Three tentacles blaze toward Gwen at once— not for ensnaring her, but for a sudden, violent one-two-three combination punch with an impressive amount of force behind it. "And it would be in your best interests to stay DOWN!!" the mad doctor screams anew, blood trickling from a gash in his forehead.

There's a lot of horrible mad science about to happen, and honestly, about 90% of it was unintended.


Spider-Woman is a sight to behold while fighting. Not because she is particularly graceful or even a very good fighter, but because she tends to throw herself about, trusting in her powers to catch and toss her as they will.

"Well, your contributions is making me smell like rotten calamari, so I'm going to pass." Yank! The box goes flying forward and knocks Otto right in the face. The tentacles toss Gwen violently to the ground and she winces at the pain that causes. Pushing herself up from the ground just in time for the doors to burst open.

"Timetable? I'm not a—train," she hisses. "Unless you mean train of awesome, which I totally am….ugh, I think I may have a concussion." Leaping, she ducks behind a table as glass beakers burst above her head.

There's a whirring sound behind her and her nose wrinles again. "Blech, still smell like fish." She looks behind her at the whirring arch as it glows and smells. "Never a good sign." Then, she looks upward at Otto again. "Okay, I think that's the sound of my exit. Gotta get out of here."

Unfortunatly, that statement is more true than she knows. Springing forward, she leaps up, trying to vault over Otto and the guards toward the exit. Instead, tentacles streak forward and crash into Gwen's side. It connects with a sickening sound of tentacles hitting flesh. Still in the air, the blur of white, pink and black flings her backward and right into the energy of the arch.


The spymaster bites her lip, watching the fight reach it's crescendo. The security officers opening fire in their main laboratory would set their research back, but the technology is easier to replace than the staff— including Otto, as excitable as the middle-aged scientist can be.

The arch generates a webwork of light and hums with sound while the air has an interesting and horrible smell of the freshest calamari and O3. The console sparks; fuses blow, and the system spins up to full power for a split second. Otto's eyes bug behind his goggles, crying out— "Get back— GET BACK!!"

The security guards immediately run for cover. The doors open to allow the entrance of Cindy Moon, director of S.I.L.K., as the shadows are interrupted with the intermittent bursts and snaps of light and electricity as Gwen collides with the highly advanced technology— and as she shields her face from the chaos, squinting to see what's going on, she does not… look… happy.

"Damn it!!" she yells— for more than one reason.

Welcome, Gwen, to untested technology brute-force ripping a hole in space-time. Welcome to unrefined, unprotected travel through the universe and the cracks between worlds, paths that are ordinarily not travelled or even /meant/ to be travelled by the average mortals. This is no rainbow bridge to Valhalla, guarded by a wise and ancient man. This is no cool space box that's bigger on the inside, run by a madman out for an adventure. This is not the quantum tunnel and technology researched by the brilliant Dr. Foster.

When the light fades and that nerve-burning sensation and the noise in her ears dies out, the world is /hauntingly/ familiar but /very/ different: This is a rooftop, on an apartment building, in a pretty nice neighborhood. About five blocks down is the best pizza joint around for blocks on blocks, closed for the past few years. This is a place full of families. The George Washington bridge is visible in the near distance, exactly where she left it when she started this adventure.

There's no cell service for Gwen's carrier.

The tower that once held S.I.L.K.'s laboratories is gone.

Five years ago, this was the apartment building that once housed one Cindy Moon and her family before a fateful spider bite sent her into hiding.


It's a little while before Gwen wakes up from being flung into the experimental…whatever that was. Scrambling upward, she grabs at her head, which throbs. "WHO-WHA-HUH?!" She flings herself forward, expecting to still be in a fight. But, no. This is—-wait, where is she? Where's the lab? The creepy octopus guy? The disembodied voice.

She moves up toward the edge of the roof and looks about her. This still looks like Manhattan. Swinging forward moves from roof to roof, trying to figure out how she got here. Was it a transporter? Is she still knocked out. Mid-air, she pinches herself. "Ow! Okay, so either that doesn't work or this isn't a dream."

Climbing a high enough building, she looks about her. She can see the Empire State Building, the Chrysler building, the taxis and the—-why are all the Starkbucks missing their ks? Pulling out her phone, she checks and frowns. How can she have no service?

"Don't freak out Gwen, don't freak out. This is totally fine. This is totally fine."

It takes her awhile, but she webs her way to Queens, desperate to find her father. However, when she gets to Forest Hills, it's all different. Her house isn't there and when she looks in the windows of the house that is where it's supposed to be, it is predictably different, with a different family living there.

That's when she starts to hyperventilate a little. "Okay, freak out. It is definitely time to freak out. Where the hell am I?! And why do I still smell like rotten fish!?"

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