645/A Symkarian in New York

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A Symkarian in New York
Date of Scene: 28 May 2017
Location: New York City
Synopsis: Summary needed
Cast of Characters: Spider-Man, Silver Sable




Spider-Man has posed:
It was Saturday in the city, and Spider-Man was currently wishing his costume breathed better than it did. It was too hot to stand around, and web fluid cost money, so he wasn't too sure what to do. He was doing his patrol, but things seemed to be fairly quiet, so he landed on a balcony, somebody's penthouse, landing on the brick half-wall in a crouching position, so he could better overlook the city.

"Nice view, I bet this place costs a fortunate." He commented to himself as he took in the surroundings. There was a pool up here, and he was sorely tempted to take a dip in it, but no, his morals got the better of him. With no obvious bad guys to deal with, he started scanning the streets, trying to find an ice cream cart or something. There were a few, but there were long lines for them anyway, and besides, ice cream cost money too.


Silver Sable has posed:
Perhaps Spidey saw her all along, perhaps not, but a few stories below the Spiderman is Silver Sable, emerging from view as if by magic as she crawls out the back of an actual invisibility cloak, or, blanket in this case, another wonder of Symkarian technology, their stealth devices quite impressive. She is clad in her snug silver bodysuit, and while it certaintly breaths better, the temperature still is a factor regardless and the woman moves further onto the roof to take some shade, and produce a canteen of water which she takes a sip from.. the canteen, of course, white.

Spider-Man has posed:
Spider-Man, upon seeing Silver Sable, decided to pop on by. Now, he could have just swung down, landed on his feet, and said hello, like a normal person. But instead, he watched her, saw her movement, tried to anticipate where she was going, and when he thought it was right, he slung a string down a side of a building, crawling down it, upside down, and just hung there, waiting for her to turn the corner and see him. "Hello Sable, what'cha doing?" He spoke as if they were old friends, even though they barely knew each other. "You know, assassination is generally frowned upon in this country."

Silver Sable has posed:
Silver Sable is not one easily suprised, even by sneaky wall crawlers, and as the wall crawler descends above her, she simply tilts her head up to look at the masked hero, and casually takes another sip of the no doubt cool and refreshing water. "You know I would only assassinate someone in the United States only with it's express and tacit approval, and a considerable paycheck." She adds as an afterwards.

Spider-Man has posed:
"That's a relief. The only person who'd want me assassinated is J. Jonah Jameson, and from what I hear, he doesn't believe in giving out 'considerable' paycheques. He's more of a 'commensurate' kind of guy, or 'cheap' as we New Yorkers like to call it. Hey, how do you get your hair to be so shiny? I bet you're a wash, rinse, and repeat, always repeat kind of woman."

He continued to hang upside down, legs bent, feet together, holding the strand with his feet, and his hands. It was comfortable to him, but most people would think it was physically taxing. Tilting his head, he asked "can something be both expressed and tacit? Aren't they antonyms in this regard?"


Silver Sable has posed:
"Well, I don't think Mr. Jameson fits the bill of my usual clients." Silver Sable responds, taking another drink from her water, "Though he could certaintly afford me if he needed a security consult. But I am not known to be very compromising with my fees. And I have herbal shampoos and conditioners, a special blend." she answers the second question, moving to take a position on the wall beneath and beside the masked man. "You might ask him about quirks of the english language, I am not a native speaker, the intricacies sometimes escape me."

Spider-Man has posed:
Spider-Man knew English was her second language, but he found she spoke English better than most New Yorkers. "Ah, herbal shampoos and conditions. You'll have to give me the brand name, or recipe. It won't turn my hair silver, will it?" So, Spider-Man just admitted to having hair under his mask. One more thing the world knows about the man behind the mask. "That's good, be strong, keep to the fees you set up, and never allow them to negotiate you down." Peter sadly does that all the time. He wished he had more confidence when it came to fees. He was doing better, but only because of his part time teaching assistant's job at the school. And he had a scholarship to Empire State University. And a roommate who was paying most of the bills. He felt so guilty about the last part, but was lucky to be in the position to feel guilty at all.

Silver Sable has posed:
Not only does Silver speak english better then most people, she likely speaks French, German, Italian, Japanese, and Somali better then most native speakers, at the very least. A hint of a smile comes to Silver's lips as she speaks with the spider, the mind of the woman no doubt picking up that the spider does indeed have hair, and it is infact not silver, though those were likely two criteria easy enough to assume anyway, "No, it will not turn your hair silver, yes it is very expensive, and yes you can of course buy it yourself if you'd like to try it at home, It is called Ten Voss."

Spider-Man has posed:
As knowledgeable as Spider-Man is, he has never heard of Ten Voss. Later on, he'll google it and find that it is way out of his price range. "Ten Voss? Sounds exotic. I'll have to try some." Though he does sound a little sad, "awe, no silver hair for me? Oh well, maybe, if I somehow manage to reach old age, I'll get it eventually. Not that there's much chance of that. If it's not a Goblin, Octopus, symbiote, or hey, maybe one of Arkham Asylum graduates, or an alien. Sooner or later, somebody's going to wash this spider out." He meant it. And the funny part, his greatest worry was how Aunt May would take it.

Silver Sable has posed:
"I'm sure you can come up with some way to get silver hair, Spiderman." Silver replies, shrugging her shoulders ever so slightly as she chats with the lad, "And you should play a little harder with your rogue's gallery, you shouldn't leave loose ends that could come bite you in the ass.

Spider-Man has posed:
"But if I played harder with them, then they wouldn't want to play with me anymore. I was always taught to play fair and to share, so people would like me. Haven't you seen all the coverage I get from the Daily Bugle? They do say all publicity is good publicity, but I'm really starting to wonder. But at least they're not as bad as the supermarket tabloids. They seem to think I'm an alien who's dating the Sheridan twins. Wrong on both counts, for the record."

Silver Sable has posed:
"I was always taught to win. Your enemy isn't going to play fair, why should you. The moral high ground does nothing for you when you end up dead, or maimed afterall, and what if your Goblin friend goes on to kill innocents when he escapes from whatever jail you have thrown him into?" Silver shrugs her shoulders in a simple gesture, before taking another drink from that canteen of hers.

Spider-Man has posed:
"I was taught that there are more important things than winning and losing. If I give it my best, and I get beaten by someone who doesn't fight by the rules, my actions may have inspired others to act, to rise up to defend themselves, to set a good example. Every day, from the moment we wake up, to the moment we shut our eyes, we have the chance to set an example for those around us. I choose to set a good one, and I'd love it if you'd join me in that." He really believes that crap. And he said it with such conviction.

Silver Sable has posed:
"If only we all had that luxury, I suppose." Silver Sable says with a shrug of her shoulders, "But you and I, we come from very different worlds I think, you from a land of boyscotts and mickey mouse, me, Nazis, Communists, and terrorists."

Spider-Man has posed:
Spider-Man's not proud to admit this, but he understands history. "We had both. There was a two for one sale, and you know Americans, we just can't pass up a bargain." America's had its fair share of neo-nazis, terrorists, the Ku Klux Klan, and other less desirable elements. And you should visit Walt Disney World. It's nice. A lot of athletes go there after winning trophies. And, as soon as they introduce wall crawling at the Olympics, I'm going to Disney World too!"

Silver Sable has posed:
"Oh, I know." Silver says with a nod of her head, "No place is perfect, and you have far more powered folk resorting to criminal behaviour here as well." She offers a dismissive wave of her hand, "I may have more extreme methods then you like, but I am not unaware of the dangers of nations across the world."

Spider-Man has posed:
"Yeah, we seem to be the world leaders when it comes to aliens, metahumans, mutants, and the otherwise extraordinary. We have so many that we've begun exporting them to the world. And importing a few, like yourself. How are you finding it? Did they give you everything you needed at immigration? The monthly party's coming up this Tuesday."

Silver Sable has posed:
"Me? An Immigrant?" Silver asks, an incredulous look coming to her face. Perhaps that was the point of it afterall, "No Spidey, I'd never immigrate to America, as lovely as it is, but my Diplomatic papers are all in check if you're concerned I might get deported." she offers a hint of a smile at that.

Spider-Man has posed:
Spider-Man smiles through the mask, and reaches up, well, down from his perspective, to give her a salute. He's remained upside down all this time. Most people would have suffered from the effects of blood going in ways it's not meant to, but Spider-Man is right as rain in this position. "Just doing my civic duty, ma'am."

Silver Sable has posed:
"If you ever get tired of being an underpaid civil servant and want a job in the private sector, I'm certain we can find a place for you at SSI." Silver Sable suggests with just a hint of snark invading her otherwise cool demeanor, perhaps it's the esteemed company she finds herself in presently bringing that side of the woman out.

Spider-Man has posed:
"Paid? Wait, civil servants get paid? I knew I was missing something." He threw his fist in mock anger, "so, all this time, I could have been making walking around money? And I don't mean the stuff that jingles, but the foldable kind too. And here I've been living off cat food for all these years." He shook his head, "but, duty is its own reward. Or something corny like that. Do you have a business card?" He wasn't serious, but he was curious about her company. Maybe Peter Parker could do some freelance work for them?

Silver Sable has posed:
Pouches, Silver has pouches, and out comes a business card from one of them, high gloss white cardstock, with silver lettering.. perhaps a bit hard to read, but regardless. She hands it across towards the webslinger, "Call any time, we pay competitive wages." Of course, it's a business card for SSI, of course, Silver Sable International, complete with a 1-800 Number, and a business website. "I hope it was delicious catfood, at least."

Spider-Man has posed:
"There's delicious cat food? I have so much to learn" He took the card, studying it through the lenses of his mask. He reached into his costume. It looked seamless at first, but there was a shirt and pants. They were actually separate. And underneath the shirt he had a belt. He exposed a bit of skin, Caucasian by the looks of it, as he slipped the card into a pouch on his belt, before he tugged the shirt down, or from her perspective up. "Thanks Silver."

Silver Sable has posed:
The Spidey one is given a calculating look, Silver's eyes following the gesture and no doubt taking mental notes. One could almost envision the entries that are to be added to SSI's Dossier on Spiderman this evening with just the look on her face. "You are welcome, Spiderman." She says to the younger man.

Spider-Man has posed:
Yeah, she's learned so much today. He is not an alien, has hair that is not silver, has Caucasian skin, and he's a native to New York. He's also altruistic, inspirational, and has a sense of humour. On the off chance there was a tracking device in the card she gave him, it might be blocked by the shielding in his belt. He had to put in a lot of shielding as he stores his spider tracers in there and it'd drive him nuts without it. And, because things change, he just made them all shielded. "So, what are you up to?"

Silver Sable has posed:
"Hmn." Silver Sable says at the question, watching the man for a few moments before she shrugs her shoulders, "A painting was stolen from a vault in Switzerland, and the insurance company garaunteeing it decided it would be cheaper to contract me then pay out it's value. I've rather good intel it will end up in the penthouse of Alan J. Finkmeyer over there." She indicates, somewhere on the other side of the shade-wall she's taken shelter behind. "I intend to retrieve it later tonight."

Spider-Man has posed:
It was at times like this that Peter wasn't sure what to do. On the one hand, she just admitted she intended to take something that didn't belong to her. But it allegedly didn't belong to them either. She wasn't a police officer or anything, and yet, her heart was probably in the right place. Foolishly, he asks, "if you know where stolen property is, why not just use the police and courts?"

Silver Sable has posed:
"Well, for starters because I don't have much confidence in the police, they are often corrupt, incapable, or actually lack the resources to do what I can do." Silver Sable says at the question, "But second, to assuage your concerns, I also have full legal jurisdiction to retrieve this property, sort of like your bail bondsmen, or repossession men. The local police will be informed by my legal team, proper paperwork served and everything shortly before we conduct our operation. In short, I don't trust the NYPD to not inform the man that I'll be coming."

Spider-Man has posed:
Spider-Man decides to take her at her word. She seemed an honourable woman. Strange fashion sense. But honourable all the same. And from what he had heard, she and the Wild Pack were terrific at their job. Though, more as a joke than anything else, he asks, "so, what makes you think I won't go over to Mr. Finkmeyer and tell him you're coming for his stuff?"

Silver Sable has posed:
"Well, my way will lead to no bloodshed, Mr. Finkmeyer's guards will be neutralized and rendered unconscious before they realize what is going on." Silver says rather plainly, a high degree of confidence in her voice, "If they get spooked they may run, which means I have to have my men rush the job, we'll probably end up in a gunfight on the street down below." She gestures, "Which will be fairly akward in midtown, I'm fairly certain none of the bystanders will be harmed, my men are very good shots, but it adds another degree of uncertainty into the mix. I like my work to be clean and efficient."

Spider-Man has posed:
All things considered, Spider-Man probably should have just continued with his patrol rather than to stop and chat. He didn't really like any of these possibilities. "Okay then, warning is a bad idea." He finally decided to let go of the webline, doing a flip, and standing upright. "But, hey, I might pop by, to see how it goes, lend a hand, or hey, maybe I'll bring popcorn. I never get to watch other people do work. I always have to be in it." And he could never sit idly by. It's not in him.

Silver Sable has posed:
"If you, Spiderman, see a crime in progress, a jewel thief say, has just made off with a diamand necklace. Do you call the police and give them a description of the man and where he has run off to, or do you truss him up in your webs and then let the police come and pick him up?" Silver Sable asks, arms crossing beneath her chest as she looks at the Webslinger. "This is no different, only we will use stunners, and sleeping gas to pacify the penthouse, and not web we shoot from our hands, or wherever it comes from."

Spider-Man has posed:
She was making a point, and he assumes she does have reliable intelligence that the guy did do it, that he took it, or hired people to. When he sees stuff happening, he's a witness. He knows. If she 'knows', then really, how is it different. She made sense. Yet still, it felt odd to him. "You make a good point," he finally admitted.

Silver Sable has posed:
"I know I do." Silver Sable says to the Spiderman, shaking her head faintly, "I am a professional, unlike most of the folk you probably run into upon the rooftops of your fine city here." She says with a soft laugh, "And you'll see we always operate above the board, we don't freelance or play loose with the rules."

Spider-Man has posed:
Nodding, Spider-Man decided to let her have her fun, invading the poor guy's home. He seems to have brought it on himself. He didn't feel completely right about it, but everything sounded to be on the up and up. So, he had to go with his gut, and his gut was telling him to trust Silver Sable at her word. "Well, it's been fun, but this little Spider has a city to protect. Good luck on your repo man, woman, work." And he shot off a web line, swinging out into the city. He made it look so effortless. And he neatly left a sample of his webbing, the line he had been dangling from before. Even if she did pocket some of it, she'd have trouble cutting it, and it would dissolve about an hour after being made.

Silver Sable has posed:
A little farewell wave is offered to the departing Spiderman, and Silver closes up her canteen and moves back over to the edge, crawling up underneath that camoflauge blanket and becoming basically invisible once again as she returns to her observation of the building.