6368/Don't Believe Everything on the News

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Don't Believe Everything on the News
Date of Scene: 04 February 2019
Location: East Harlem, New York City
Synopsis: Black Panther learns not to trust media accounts of Spider-Man
Thanks to: Thanks Spidey!
Cast of Characters: Spider-Man, Black Panther




Spider-Man has posed:
It was one of those nights again. Spider-Man had tests waiting to be graded at home, he had homework he had to do, and his patrol had dragged on into the early hours of the morning. He was fortunate, he needed less sleep than most people of his age, height, and fitness, but he still needed some, and he wasn't likely to get it.

Passing through East Harlem, his spider-sense went off, nothing too severe, just a niggling sensation, so he dropped down to one of the rooftops. He spotted a door that was slightly ajar, and went through. It was a warehouse of some kind, and the door lead down to a catwalk, which he immediately jumped off of, to crawl upon the roof.

There were three guys, all dressed in black. Black jackets, black belts, black pants, black shoes, black gloves, and black masks. The big one was currently trying to open a crate with a crowbar. Unbeknownst to Spider-Man, there was a fourth member of the gang outside in a black van, which was parked, but not running.


Black Panther has posed:
This was exactly the sort of area that T'Challa was looking for when he left on his little excursion. A query to Jarvis for areas with high rates of violent crime and low rates of employment chose the location. The thermal underwear he is trying out has so far helped considerably. After the recent Avengers rescue mission to help citizens affected by a Minneapolis blizzard, T'Challa has been reconsidering his current suit's suitably to some of the North American climates. Time to talk to Shuri about an upgrade. But for now? The thermal underwear is enough.

Black Panther sits, crouched much like his namesake on the corner of a six story apartment building. Not having moved for the last 15 minutes, he just sits and watches as the lives of the people play out. Going about their night time rituals. Bottles are consumed. Toughs meet on the corners, establishing their spot in the street hierarchy. Sometimes moving up. Sometimes moving down. Or way down, with fatal results.

T'Challa's head gives a small shake at witnessing poverty such as Wakanda would not allow to exist. The United States has great resources, enough that this need not happen. "But they are divided so," T'Challa says to himself. "I must prevent us from ever going such a direction," he adds aloud. The thoughts of his policies that are slowly starting to include more involvement with the outside world is frequently on the Wakandan King's mind.

Movement catches the Black Panther's eye. He turns and looks, switching his headgear's optics to infrared, watching as a figure dropped onto the roof. From where he originated, T'Challa did not catch. As he sees the figure slip inside the warehouse, T'Challa's brows draw together in curiosity. He rises from his crouch and runs, sprinting silently across rooftops and leaping the separating streets until he lands on the same roof that the figure had. He moves with vibranium-enhanced silence, gathering the scents of the area as much as listening and looking as he looks through the doorway, then slips inside once he believes he will be undetected.

Spider-Man has posed:
The big thug manages to open the crate, which bears the insignia of Xanatos Enterprises, and to someone with terrific eyesight, or electronically enhanced eyesight, they would see that it was a shipment from the Security Division of X.E.

"Jackpot boys," he says as he pulls out what looks like a futuristic rifle. One of the others pulls out a similar weapon, while the third goes to work on opening up a new crate. Spider-Man, drops down from his hiding place, landing on a tall stack of crates, about six up, spreads his arms wide, and says "boys, be careful with those things or you could take someone's eye out."

The big one, who had spent more time with his weapon, raises it up and fires, intending to hit Spider-Man, but he it on the wrong setting, and it fires off four blasts, one of which is coming right at the still unseen African King.

The other one desperately tries to active his weapon, and the third ends up getting his crate open. He pulls out some kind of silver sphere. It begins emitting a smoke like substance, though it's not just air. There's actually particles that are designed to jam a variety of monitoring devices. Not too good to breath in though. The little one who activated immediately begins coughing as the cloud of white quickly fills the room.

In the confusion, Spider-Man leaps down to try and knock the big one down.


Black Panther has posed:
Black Panther crouches on the landing by the doorway. His attention focuses on Spider-Man as the other's movement is noticed. A slight frown as T'Challa tries to remember what he knows of Spider-Man. He is covered in a number of contingency plans in Wakanda, but none likely enough for T'Challa to keep current on the details. He makes a mental note to review Jarvis's files on local villains and heroes.

Seeing the confrontation, T'Challa hrms softly. Apparently they are on opposite sides. Suddenly he tenses with alarm as the futuristic weapon is pointed his direction and fired! T'Challa springs up from the landing, off one wall and over to the other side as the section of flooring beneath him is hit and gives way to crash to the ground below. T'Challa lets himself fall as well, all the way to the ground.

Super hero landing! He ends up crouched, his footwear's Energy Dampening features take up all of his kinetic energy, allowing for a soft landing. Not being sure yet if he was seen, Black Panther darts behind some other crates before peeking out, looking to spot these men, and possibly super-villain, that may have become his adversaries for tonight.

Spider-Man has posed:
Spider-Man is successful in knocking out the big one. He deliberately tried to mitigate the damage, likely bruising, but not actually cracking the man's ribs. It was hard to face off against regular humans when you have powers. But humans with ray guns, that was a whole other story. He had to stop him, without hurting him too much, and quickly. It didn't help that there were two crates worth of tech laying around, open for anyone to take from.

With the man on the ground, Spider-Man did a quick asses, knowing he would be able to breathe while being lower to the ground. Thankfully, Spidey's mask helped to filter out that stuff in the air. Spraying his webbing over the two crates, he tried to make sure no one else could take any other goodies from the fine people at Xanatos Enterprises.

The other two goons circled around, not knowing that the big one was down. The armed one shot at something he thought he saw in the fog.


Black Panther has posed:
Black Panther's mask also filters out some of the cloud. Though chemicals and gas are rarely harmful to him, he does still have to smell them. The particles are unpleasant to Panther's bloodhound-like sense of smell, throwing it off. And before he was able to catch and mentally catalogue Spider-Man's scent, too.

The men are more difficult to see through the cloud, but it looks like one is aiming his way! Black Panther lunges forward, twisting in the air and avoiding most of the shot, though part of it hits his foot.

It flips him in the air, and what would have been a flying tackle instead turns into a wild, hard collision as Black Panther's body crashes into the man. They both tumble to the ground, ending with Panther's elbow coming down on his head to knock him out as he rolls over onto his feet. Panther is already looking for the next threat, and wary of webs being shot his way out of the white cloud.

Spider-Man has posed:
The third, and sadly only remaining thug sees Black Panther and his colleague fight. He mistakenly thought the shots fired were webbing, and calls out, "come on boss, you can take 'em!" This alerts Spider-Man, who fires off webbing at the sound, aiming for legs. He webs the guy up, then the arms, and even the mouth. He can breathe through his nose on the ground, below the cloud.

Spider-Man then leaps up towards the catwalk, wondering if he can get a better vantage point from there, but that cloud is all consuming. Whatever it was, it was a neat piece of tech. "I've got to say that's some nice tech. What will they come up with next, self-sealing stem bolts, portal guns, but right now I'd settle for some thermaldynamic fabric."

And then, he seems to manage to see something, and since he only one he knew about was the third guy, he leaps down, a fist and foot both coming at the figure he picked out through disturbance in the cloud.


Black Panther has posed:
Black Panther hears the sound of the webs and the cries of Spider-Man's target until one of the webs crosses his mouth to muffle him. T'Challa listens still, hearing sounds up above. His view screens flip through infrared, ultraviolet, and thermal. The engineers at Xanatos deserve a bump in their annual bonus. Their device has foiled even his vibranium-based technology's sensor suite.

The sudden attack catches T'Challa by surprise. The figure is all in black, Spider-Man might note, but this one has ridges like cat-like ears on the top of his mask. He lets out a grunt of pain as the blows come in. Bullets would have been robbed of their kinetic energy by his suit, but the fist and foot move too slowly for the tech to work on them. Panther is thrown back, crashing into one of the crates. He grips it behind his shoulders and then flips up to stand atop it as he focuses back on his attacker.

There's a moment of pause, the dark figure lifting a foot. Feeling how Spider-Man's web sticks to it. "This web. It is not adhering through bio-electrostatic forces," Black Panther says in surprise. These webs are not like the ones he is familiar with from Spider-Woman. "What are they? A poly-synthetic compound? A long-chain polymer knit?" he asks, the voice having a cultured sound to it, a smooth blend of African accent and Oxford English. Black Panther's hands coming up to a ready combat position despite the questions.

Spider-Man has posed:
Spider-Man, after landing a few sudden blows, does a somersault in mid air, and lands in an awkward crouching position. He coughs a little. That stuff was getting through his mask, he was just doing better than the other thug, who by now was coughing so much that it was painfully obvious where he was. Spider-Man fires off some more webbing at the last goon, well, the last one in the warehouse anyway.

There was one more shot fired from that gun before Spider-Man could web it up, but it was thankfully a harmless flailing shot. The other man, the fourth in here, perplexes Spider-Man. The man sounds like a scientist. He sounds like a mixture of African and posh English, "Hierarchically arranged carbon nanotube fibers actually, but who's counting Monroe Kelly, or should I say Prince Akeem?" With the accent, he can't figure out if the guy is more like Ernie Hudson's Monroe Kelly from Congo, or Eddie Murphy's Prince Akeem from Coming to America, but that's where his mind went.

For the moment, Spider-Man was neither attacking, nor withdrawing. As the smoke began to clear, Spider-Man's visage did too, and he had adopted a most uncomfortable looking position.


Black Panther has posed:
"Prince Akeem? If you plan to joke about my royal bathers? Those jokes have already been made by others since I came to New York, Spider-Man," the Black Panther tells him. He's had enough of the obscuring smoke. Panther drops from the crate to the ground, and the same technology that arrests his kinetic energy suddenly sends a burst of it into the ground. Cracking the concrete, without harm to Spider-Man. But more importantly, sending up a cloud of air that carries the smoke further away up to the ceiling.

"These crates are going back to their owner. It would not be wise to pursue them further," Black Panther says of the crates which look to him all packaged up with webs for transport now. He raises his hands back to a combat stance. Hey, is that the guy from the Avengers press conference? "But before they do..." he says, trailing off for a moment before asking, "How do you keep the nano-tube fibers aligned? Surely they are in a a liquid or semi-plastic state when you emit them. You would need to use a-"

Spider-Man has posed:
"You have royal bathers?" Spider-Man says incredulously as the smoke is displaced and begins to dissipate. "Neat trick," his mind already going through permutations of how it was achieved, "I'd love to take a gander under the hood of those... er... boots. Vibranium nanotech weave, I assume?"

Getting up from his awkward crouching position, Spider-Man manages to free the weapons from the webbed up robbers. He rips some of the webbing he had used to cover the crates, so he could put them back, and then re-web the crate over the top. It'll only last for an hour, but when he places the lids back on top, the webbing will act like a solvent.

"Pressurised fluid, which I can control with my spinners," and as he explains some of it, without ever giving enough away to reverse engineer it, he spins a few webs, showing the versatility of it, creating a line, a web, and even a little Hello Kitty like object. He only stops when it dawns on him how he's wasting webbing, and he's on a budget. But it was easy to get lost in scientific discourse.

"So, Mr. I have royal bathers. You know my name, but who are you?" Yep, Spider-Man was a New Yorker all right. King of Wakanda gives a speech a few days ago. He didn't even hear about it. There's always so much going on. And Spider-Man has precious little free time to catch up on such things. Now, if he had appeared in a scientific journal, that'd be another story.


Black Panther has posed:
Black Panther tenses as Spider-Man goes to pull webbing off the weapons. Vibranium daggers are in his hands, ready to be thrown the moment the weapon's barrel swings his way.

Only it doesn't swing his way. Still, Panther is watching warily as Spider-Man returns the gun to the crate and seals them. The demonstration that follows is of great interest to the science-minded T'Challa. Especially as he has been trying to decide on a gift for another web spinner. How could he combine that with bio-webbing though? The thought is pushed aside for a time there is not a potentially dangerous adversary in front of him.

"I am the Black Panther. King of the nation of Wakanda. And the newest member of the Avengers," T'Challa says. "I do not know you well. But have seen news articles on your activities," he says in precise words. "They do not speak well of you, Spider-Man. Though you seem to show care in how you fought these men. More care than the news gives you credit for."

Spider-Man has posed:
"Yeah... don't believe everything you hear on the news... " and his voice drops to a near whisper, "how do I address you? King, your royal highness, Black Panther, Panther, BP, the man in black, they never covered this in superhero school, at least I don't think they did. I could never afford the tuition, and the uniforms, though I did hear they had an incredible science lab. A pity I never did get to see it." And he just goes on like that, eventually circling back to his own press, "but yeah, ever since I started, J. Jonah Jameson has had a thing for me, but no matter what, I just don't think of him that way."


Black Panther has posed:
Black Panther's head tilts to the side as if he's trying to decide what to believe. "I believe in judging others on their actions. Other than kicking me, yours have not been deserving of fault," he says. The Black Panther's mask suddenly seems to drain away, like it was made of nano-particles or something that all decided to be somewhere else. Revealed is a handsome face. A well-groomed man with dark skin. His head tilts to the side a little as he regards Spider-Man. "It was a good kick," he contends, lips pulling up in a small smile that is just a touch lopsided. "You understand if I am not completely trusting of you yet? But I will see what else is said of you. Are any of the Avengers familiar with you?"

Spider-Man has posed:
"Yeah, sorry about that," and Spider-Man scratches the back of his head, "I didn't know you were here, and with the smoke, and the ray guns..." He did what he thought was the right course of action. And in similar circumstances, he'd have done the same thing again. But he still feels sorry for hitting the Black Panther.

"I've worked with a few of them in the past, nothing serious. I like to remain a friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man. The Avengers have Gods, billionaires, national heroes, and actual royalty." Yeah, he still felt they were way out of his league, even after doing this for years. "Besides, with you guys fighting off alien invasions, someone's got to look out for the little guys."


Black Panther has posed:
Black Panther assumes a more relaxed posture though still is keeping a wary eye for the time being. "I shall talk to the rest of the team. If I have erred in putting trust in the news stories? Then you shall have my apology, Spider-Man," he says in that voice that somehow manages to be almost raspy and smooth at the same time. "There is no shortage of people that need helping. I came to this area because I heard of the crime that afflicts it," T'Challa says. "And I did not answer your question earlier, did I? My name is T'Challa," he tells Spider-Man. "Feel free to use it, or to call me Black Panther if you wish. I have revealed myself openly though."

The man does not ask Spider-Man anything about his own identity. "These men, were you tracking them here in some fashion? Are there more of them to be concerned about?" he asks of the unconscious and webbed up would-be thieves.

Spider-Man has posed:
"Don't worry about it," Spider-Man replies to the possible apology, "Black Panther," he adds, feeling more comfortable using a made up name than a real one, at least right now. But as for the men, "no, I just noticed the door to the roof was ajar, figured I'd investigate. There might be a wheel man outside, but just a random gang as far as I know." And with that, he fires off a webline, and using it to get up to the catwalk, on his way to the rooftop entrance he used. He planned to check for the wheel man, but if Panther didn't follow quickly, it'd be a solo take down.


Black Panther has posed:
Below, Black Panther can be heard saying, "Jarvis. Please send the police to my location. Thieves attempting to steal high tech weaponry have been apprehended here." T'challa glances at the crates. Frowning as to why they would be in this area. Surely the company is not producing or storing them in Harlem. Something doesn't smell right here.

T'Challa suddenly darts at the wall at high speed, using his momentum to run up it and then spring back and forth from a wall at one corner, to the other, until he's on the remains of the landing that was hit by the first shot. T'Challa's mask rises again as he follows Spider-Man outside to check for signs of anyone else.

Spider-Man has posed:
Once he gets up to the roof, Spider-Man takes a good look of the surroundings. There's a pile of cigarettes on the ground near the window of the black van with the other one inside, but Spider-Man can't see that from his vantage point. There's a few other cars parked, though Spider-Man couldn't see anyone in them. Seemingly leaving, he fires off some weblines going to other buildings to scout out the area.


Black Panther has posed:
Silent footsteps take Black Panther swiftly to the edge of the roof where he looks down. His optics zoom in on the vehicles, spotting the cigarettes. He switches to thermal. In New York City in February at night? The hoods of cars that have been on recently light with reds and oranges . "The black van," Panther states, before glancing from one car to another. Naming any others that might have also been on recently. Unfortunately the window glass blocks his view of any occupants. Black Panther leaps from where he is, landing on the van's hood, his suit absorbing the impact so there is nothing to hear, no thump to be noticed by the person inside.

Spider-Man has posed:
With Black Panther silently on the hood, Spider-Man takes a moment to observe, instead being something of a backup, ready in case the guy bolts and manages to get away from the Panther. This guy though obviously has more sense. He blinks several times, his eyes already adjusted to the darkness, but to see a costumed superhero on the hood of your van, well, he slowly opens his door and steps out of the vehicle, "all right," and he offers his hands, as if to be cuffed.

Seeing this, Spider-Man jumps down and fires off some webbing as makeshift handcuffs, "wow, it's rare to see somebody so reasonable." He fires off some more webbing, gumming up the wheels so the van won't be going anywhere. "Why don't you get in the back, it's cold out tonight."

He'll grab the keys from the ignition and web them to the outside of the van, and then web up the doors, keeping the guy in there. And finally, he gets a pen and piece of paper, which he unfolds, and writes down some details for the police, and that too, gets webbed up to the van. "Caught this guy, more inside the warehouse. They were stealing super guns. - Spider-Man." Then, to Black Panther, he mimes tipping his hat, "nice meeting you, but I like to be elsewhere when the police arrive. You might want to... too." And with that, he leaps towards a building, scaling it, and will be off on his way.