8879/When Your SO Says There is Trouble....

When Your SO Says There is Trouble....
Date of Scene:	20 August 2019
Location:	Cindy Moon's Apartment, Cobble Hill
Synopsis:	From wounds to an impromptu Gotham two person prom with Chinese delivery for dinner.
Cast of Characters:	Silk, Kid Arachnid

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Silk has posed:
    The scent of bleach is in the air as some music plays lightly. Something acoustic that soon switches over to La Cienega by Sleeping Wolf. Humming to the tune, down on her knees as she scrubs the remnants of her blood off the floor, Cindy tries to take it easy but the painkillers given to her by Barbara have done wonders for allowing her to power through the healing wound situated around her lower left ribs. Thankfully no higher because even spiders only have one heart.

    Her dark hair is pulled back in a pony, her color a little pale from the usual healthy pale olive but she's not wanting blood left on her kitchenette. The bucket is lifted and she carefully pours out blood tinged water and soap suds only to fill it again.

    She wipes the back of her hand to her face and begins cleaning off the counters and from the streaking blood red handprints when she came stumbling in. Thank goodness for super hero healing powers. still this was definitely a learning curve fore her and the worst was taken care of.

Kid Arachnid has posed:
Trouble. May need help. May was the word that Miles hooked onto once he got the text. Late. Because he grabbed the wrong phone before class. Superheroes and drug dealers. The only people with multiple burner phones. Class completed, some errands done on the way and Miles made his way to Gotham. It's becoming an easier trip. Some actual forced downtime is useful for napping.

Jostled awake by a ferry guard, Miles bolts to the streets. Hitting a random alleyway, he's halfway through hurriedly stripping down to his black stretchies when he notices two people staring at him. One holding a knife to the others neck. All three men staring at eachother longer than they should. FIGHT! It's brief. It's over and Miles is already web swinging onward and upward, leaving a grateful and confused citizen to report on the super stripper saving the day.

Going stealth mode once he's on the same block as the apartment, Miles sneaks into the area all ninja-like. Well. Not exactly ninja-like. He's got his backpack and may be humming 'Waterfalls'. Don't judge. Would she feel his approach through the haze of painkillers? Miles raps his knuckles on the window, Upside down, he quirks a brow curiously at the sight before him. Waaaiiiiiit a second...

Silk has posed:
    She was nearly successful in cleaning up the evidence of her injury, though the poor couch has a blood spot where Barbara helped her sit after seeing to her wounds. Another suit has been ordered as well and on its way to take the place of the other. She's got to get better at dodging honestly. Cindy does not hear him, sense him or otherwise, she's done her best to block out anything and everything. She's a real normal girl right now so that when he knocks out he window she comes up too fast and winces, grabbing at her side slightly. It takes her a moment but through that haze, allowing the rest of the world in means she gets to sense that sunspot.

    Miles.

    She crosses towards the window and to him, shuttering herself off as she reaches out to open the large pane of glass as it swings out on industrial hinges. "Hey," she says with a smile, somewhat reduced due to her current state. She step back then as she motions him in. "There is a decent Chinese place not far away...but the sushi is good too. I can order something, I did not know if you would be able to make it." Trouble is not here currently but the results of said trouble are slowly disappearing - the evidence wiped away.

    She grasps up the cloth and is hurrying to finish her work only serving to smear the watery blood streaks around the laminated counter.

Kid Arachnid has posed:
Miles is no Batman but he likes to think he's no dummy. Details of the new apartment are taken in quickly but in sitcom fashion, the tires screech to a halt and he looks back to the smeared blood on various surfaces. Cindy. Blood smears. Cindy. Bloody hand print next to the toaster. Cindy. The window opens and Miles sucks his teeth with a tsk.

"Trouble, huh?"

Reaching inside, he plants a hand flat against exposed brick above the window and drops on in. An easy, mid-air tumble and he's dropping that heavy back pack. Books, rattle cans and more all noisily protesting. His mask is yanked off and flipped dismissively aside as he watches her further cleaning up tbe remnants of her almost death. Or at the least almost really hurt for longer than a little while. Dumbfounded, stunned and chuckling in disbelief as he crosses the floor toward her.

"We need to nail down a shared idea of what trouble is, I think."

Silk has posed:
    The chuckling draws her attention as she squeezes out the rag. It comes away from a water down looking bloody mess that she quickly cleans up with a refreshed rag. Her attention turns quickly back to cleaning. There is a bit more blood around, but the majority has been wiped away but that is hard to tell he has no idea how she left the place to begin with. "It was..for a little bit. One of Birds' contacts came by, patched me up," she says though the top of a rib being moved so that a bullet could be reached is skipped over.

    "There is some goon with a mass of metal for a head that got a hold of me. I will live, or so I have been told," she remarks and then scrubs at the worn down wood which soaked up some of the blood, causing it to darken some - likely going to be permanent. "You do live across the water so...not easy to get here in time. I have my contacts, trouble just means you might expect to find something interesting when you arrived." She admits and turns, facing him as she leans her weight into her hand upon the counter. Frayed strands of dark hair curl about her pale face, her eyes lifting to meet his. "I realized today there is a learning curve," she expresses and offers him a smile. "Food? I will order something, I promise next time I will have something made," she intones and gives him a long look over. She's in a tank top and sweat pants - looking second hand. He's ready for a night out on Gotham. "I am afraid I have to stay in," she admits. There is a cut near her right eye - already nearly healed and some heavy bruising around her neck like she was crushed there by a massive meaty hand.

Kid Arachnid has posed:
It's not a small laugh of amusement. It's mirthless. The red of the water she squeezes from the rag dashes away any hint of cheer for the time being. "Jesus." He whispers in a hushed breath. "I'll have to pass on my thanks for that. The Birds. What do you get a secretive crime fighter for patching up your girlfr-"

Pulling off his gloves, Miles watches her with brows knit low in concern. "Metal headed goon. Sounds like a real nice guy. He have a name?" Next comes his stretchy shirt. Peeling that up and off, he balls up the black and red fabric and tosses it at his backpack. That spider bite did him wonders. Fit and trim in a way that'd make an Olympian give up their lifes work. He was ready for a night on the town but now? Cleaning products on his super suit is a no-no. "If the first bullet you caught wasn't a wake up call, this one must have been a doozie." Offering a hand palm up, he waggles the fingers. He wants the cleanibg rag and is looking intent on finishing where she's left off so far. "Chinese works. We'll stay in. You get to relax and tell me all about your new friend. I'm going to... is that blood on the ceiling?"

Silk has posed:
    The near girlfriend comment draws her attention from the corner of that assessing gaze. She's not blind and she has felt that form if only for a moment or two. She clears her throat as her hand smooths and tucks those wild strands of hair back behind her ear with no luck. She night be trying to look a bit more presentable before she rests a hand at the back of her neck. "I did not think to ask him but I think he's met Peter...he mentioned that though I wasn't Spider-man I was a spider-broad and that was good enough for him. I think perhaps he was taking out all his frustrations on me," she breathes outwards, biting her lip as her eyes rove a moment and only pauses when he wiggles his fingers for the rag. Oh.

    She starts to extend it and stops, glancing upwards at the ceiling, considering. "Uhhh I do not think so, even for how bad I was that would be excessive..but what /is/ that?" She tilts her head, giving the stain or whatever it is a look. It is forgotten as she extends the rag once more and sets it within his hand. "Lessons are learned, I have also been taken off active duty in the realm of crime fighting. I am apparently getting...combat lessons once I heal." Once she heals. The tank top bulges a bit on the left side, hinting at a wealth of bandages that are taped down. "I will order, any favorites or am I getting a sampling of a bunch of entries and appetizers?" She's ordered, but she's got everything on the fridge and is pulling up her one phone. Blood is on that too and she hesitates, moving over to the sink to wipe it off.

Kid Arachnid has posed:
Brown eyes flick to Cindy. He cleared his throat amost exactly the same moment she did. The corner of his lips twist into a little smirk. He takes in a deep breath, lets the smirk test the waters of a smile and... a huff of a sigh. "Spider-Broad? The hell is that? We're you fighting a seventy year old construction worker?" At the notion of him takibg his rage out on her, the smile fades. "Once you're better, we'll go track him down. Return the favor." Jaw set, those dark eyes harden for the flicker of a moment. His attention drawn upward, Miles plants one hand on his hip. The other still waiting for that grisly wash rag. "Just glad it's not blood. This town? Still might be, just not yours." The rag in hand, Miles wraps a fist around it. Looking down to the reddish water squeezed out around his knuckles.

"Mmm?" Snapped out of his thoughts, spiraling darkly as they were, he shakes his head free of the ideas. "Surprise me. Haven't met Chinese food I didn't like. Buuuuut I do love crab rangoon." With a bucket of bloody suds and a rag, Miles takes a knee and starts scrubbiing. Force creaking the floor boards as he does. "Combat lessons? From who? Or are you going to get a Krav Maga instructor?" Asks the guy whos fighting style revolves completely around old kung fu flicks.

Silk has posed:
    "Well if you must know, he was wearing a pin-striped suit and looked like a stacked Maffia hitman. Luckily he was not the one that shot me, it was one of his goons." Cindy remarks with a dark brow quirking upwards. The look he gets when he mentions threatening in turn causes Silk to still and chews at the inside of her cheek in thought. "Right, crab rangoon. I can do that." She does not press him over his words or the look on his face, instead she turns from watching him take to cleaning up what is left of her blood and begins to dial the number.

    The other end does not pick up right away but she smiles and answers, "Not sure but it seems Barbara Gordon, I believe she is the commissioners daughter is going to offer me private lessons, if no one else is available. I wonder if.." her voice trails off and switches tone. "Yes. Hello. I would like to place an order for delivery. Addressing 509 A1 Cobble Hill," she starts and then is quickly ordering. "Three orders of crab rangoon, skewers, some fried wontons and a large helping of egg drop soup. Vegetable lo mein, large size please. Then cashew chicken with steamed rice, a side of garlic friend rice, Mongolian beef, sweet and sour chicken. No that will do. Yes the rest with steamed, okay. Mmmhmmm. Cash on delivery."

    The call ends and Cindy lapses into silence. "Miles, that can wait." Its odd seeing him scrub part of her off the floor and cabinets. "You came to visit, not clean. I do not even have a Tee-Vee so you are going to get stuck talking to me."

Kid Arachnid has posed:
Miles gives a slow, slooow blink and confused rattle of the head. "Pinstriped suit? Mafia hitman? I... what?! Okay, okay. Yeah. So not hard to find at all then?" Miles forces a reassuring smile. Bright. Toothy. Semi-fake. When your favorite uncle is a villain, you can get some pretty wild impulses. Uncle Aaron would get even. That's when he snaps out of it, realizing she's looking -right- at him as he daydreams about rampaging on a bad dude. Miles startles and goes back to scrubbing.

"Gordon? Huh. Cool. She must be a badass if she's giving you some pointers. Comissioners daughter? Oh. Oh, yeah." Miles laughs. "Yeah, she's probably scary as Hell. Cop kids and karate lessons go hand in hand. I wanted dance lessons though. Not sure if I made the right call there."

After her order and the phone gets hung up, Miles sits back on his haunches. Perched there on gne balls of his feet. He looks to the rag in his hands, a ruddy pink of sorts. "Yeeeaaah, I know." Miles replies before getting to his feet Nd tossing her the rag. Lopsided, easy smile coming back. Creeping cautiously. "I don't like the idea of leaving later and you having to still clean up all this... you... you know?" A brow jumps upward and Miles leaves the bucket of suds be. Instead approaching Cindy with a hand offered between them. "You sure you're alright, Silky Smooth? Lot of bandages there. Got me worried. Which I... actually don't know how to process completely. Yet."

Silk has posed:
    Her phone is set down on the counter, old, used, battered but it gets the job done - make texting fun and a work out. Cindy hesitates when he tosses the rag at her. Her hand snaps out to catch it and she sucks in a breath. Her upper torso is still a little tight and she feels the strain in the upwards motion. She slowly looks at the rag and then back up to him as he approaches. "You took dancing lessons? So did I...back before everything. Ballet," she says faintly. Seems a lifetime ago for her and that worry clear upon his brow as her dark eyes frozen upon him. Her slender fingers curl around his hand as she takes it and takes a step closer to him as well. That steel trap that is flimsy at best around her mind is being battered by his presence. Her ability to filter is not there yet and so she struggles to just allow him through. Sunspot.

    He is the brightest part of Gotham when she allows the will that keeps her sanctioned off from everything else. She curls her hand tightly around his and nods her head, "I will be, just tender right now." Even he is a bit fuzzy with the heavy painkillers to help soothe her wounds. The red at her neck is fading slowly as well, but that slender length of her body must have been badly throttled.

    "Its something we both have to accept..." she starts to reach for his other hand and stops, the rag looked at before she lets her fingers unfurl so it drops to the ground. She slides her hand up but hesitates before her fingers come to rest on his bare shoulder. She leans close, nearly touching her forehead to his as she shakes her head. "I worry while you are in New York..." she admits and gives him a sympathetic look. "We have to trust the other to keep their head in the thick of it." Even if they are getting pummeled.

    "I will try to give you less reason to worry."

Kid Arachnid has posed:
Clever spider. The second she feels that pain, the moment eyes widen a d air rushes i to her lungs and Miles snaps his fingers. "Thought so." He says with only a tiny bit of self-satisfaction there. Which is immediately replaced with concern and that easy going patience he seems so quick to offer. "I did. For about three months before I broke my arm. Salsa, mambo, east coast swing." He laughs then, light and airy as he takes her hand in his. "Started painting instead of going back to dance. Ballet, huh?"

Stepping -carefully- into her personal space, he tlts his head aside. Obvious in his examination of the bandage mound against her side. Lips pull back in a unheard hiss at the deep bruising up her shoulder and neck. "I'll bet. You took something too. Good. You might be in a rough state tomorrow morning. Jesus, Cindy. You got him though?"

Hovering hand over her side, Miles shakes his head and settles his touch at her hip instead. Careful. Gentle as a butterfly. "Yeah. Crazy thought, huh? Months ago and I was worried about prom, college and a car. Now I'm..." Miles sighs and nods in acceptance, the little twist of good nature at the corner of his lips still. Where she stopped, Miles did not and their foreheads bumped. Nose to nose. "Hey. I'm gonna worry. It'll happen. I just have to trust that you... don't like being shot. Says the guy who was shot last week."

Silk has posed:
    Tricky spider more like and Cindy realizes all too late, her eyes widening as he snaps his fingers. She presses her lips to a thin line, "I should have known," she whispers at him. She is pretty bad, she was not sure footed enough and met a brick wall more than once and then a head full of steel reinforcement. She knows her limits when it comes to touching and she holds her breath when his touch hesitates and her eyes close, waiting only to feel his hand upon her hip instead. A twitch of a smile follows and her eyes open. "He likely won't be having any kids," she says a bit darkly. "He felt our interaction, quite a few times..." even her knuckles are bruised. She did hit that metal head of his. "He got away...I had to flee. I realize when I stand toe to toe when not swinging about I am not all that capable. It was a hard lesson to learn." Pause. "I detest being shot...very very much," she says and her nose brushes his. Sunspot. Even with her eyes partially closed he burns in her senses and it makes her smile.

    "Just need to learn...perhaps you will teach me how to dance while I am restricted from fighting crime. I have wanted to learn Swing," she admits and lets the hand on his shoulder move to his neck, curling her fingers there as she leans into him and goes still, letting out a tense breath. "You can look if you want. I know its killing you not to see how bad it is..." she says and that might mean lifting up her tank top though and she lowers her hand to his on her hip. "I will be okay, I promise..." its a dangerous precursor to what he is likely to see.

Kid Arachnid has posed:
"What? C'mon. I mean, yeah, probably but I'm really, really distractingly good looking so I won't hold it against you." Careful, Miles. Handling her like she's made of candy glass, he forgets that they are made of sterner stuff than your average vigilante. Her held breath and lingering concern reminding him that they are still human. Both eyebrows bolt upward at the revelation of her enemies shattered dreams of family life. "No. You didn't... " He chuckles then, wincing and looking away with yes squeezed shut. "Oh, that's gotta be against a rule or something!" A hushed laugh and his attention comes right back to her. "I'm going to side with you on this one. Let's try not to get shot anymore. It's a real hassle."

At the request of possible dance lessons, Miles sways gently to the other foot. Then back. Easy. Relaxed. That curve of a smile at one side of his lips, the warm sparkle in those chocolate eyes. His tone as patient and calm as ever. He's been getting used to it. That strange, building energy when she's near. "Swing, huh? If anybody can master it, it's going to be you. It's what we do best, right?" Back and forth. Foot to foot. Both hands at her hips, Miles reluctantly leaned back and took his forehead from hers. "A promise, huh? Gonna hold you to that." Looking down between them, the puffy bulge of bandages at her side and he shakes his head. "Not at all how I seen this happening but... " He laughs and gives a nod. "Alright. Horrify me. I'm ready. I can take it."

Silk has posed:
    "Well then you are in the wrong profession if you are amazed at what i will do to save myself...or likewise you. As for hassle, wearing a spandex suit and dodging bad guys is a hassle no matter which way you look at it. Chewing at her cheek she smiles up at him but feels the subtle movement that will lead to a dance, she recognizes it even if she was not formally trained and her body follows. She's rocked to one side and her tension is there but she is fluid all the same. As his head draws away she gets a better look athim when she's not so cross eyed staring up.

    Her smile grows and shows her pearly whites, a soft laugh escaping as she grips at his arm and her moves. But when he agrees to see her wound, she pauses and withdraws her hand from that which is on her hip. The bruising around her neck is bad but as she pulls up the tank top gingerly, the bruises are quickly changing and healing due to the colors that show but there is a great amount as if she had been battered int he stomach and ribs over and over. Likely what caused her bullet wound to bleed so much.

    The gauze and tape are over the left side of her lowest ribs and she breathes, the cloth hiked up to show most of it. Its a wound that has been stitched and so she is not quick to ull away the covering. "Only a couple of days and it will be like nothing happened," she reminds him.

    "I know you likely can not stay but I would love the company and dance lessons. I do have a music player," she suggests. "So you wen to prom?" Time dot distract as she allows the cloth to drop down.

Kid Arachnid has posed:
"Or me, huh? Knew it." A mock smug smirk on his face, Miles nods ever so slightly in reassurance when she starts to sway along with his movements. "You like me. Uncle Aaron was right. Dance class did pay off before karate woild have." With her looking up at him, Miles arches both eyebrows a bare bit. Clean shaven finally, he kept the sideburns and that lively mushroom cloud of hair. For now. He's got a goal of chopping it back this week. Dark eyes flickering over her features, Miles steels himself two fold.

Miles fights the urge to glance away as she lifted her tanktop. He snorted faintly, a hint of a smile still lingering.... aaannnd it's gone. "God. Cindy. That... " The injury immediately dashes his thoughts. The concern is there but he's doing a level attempt at playing it cool. His hand reaches for her side and he clenches it in a fist. "Couple days, sure but until then? I can see why you're benched. That maniac could have killed you."

Miles clears his throat as the conversation shifts. A deep breath in, a lazy smile offered and then that weighty sigh. "No. I didn't go to prom. I chickened out. I know, I know..." Miles, quick on his mental feet, clearly has an idea. She could almost see the gears lurch and spin behind those near black eyes. "I missed out. Or did I? We have music. Food on the way."

Miles, smiling all the wider still, again offers a long fingered, stronger than it should ever be hand. "Cindy. Would you go to the Gotham Industrial District Prom and Chinese Delivery Appreciation Festival with me?"

Silk has posed:
    His reaction is enough to cause her brows to shoot up ands she is quick to try to pull her tank top back down. Broken ribs and more to be seen she goes still when he clenches his fist. "I am okay," she reiterates and then reaches up to press her hand to his fist, trying to press his hand open so she can weave her fingers in with his. She is about to say more when he talks of prom and she is more than glad for the redirect. She eases a glance up at him and then her smile falters. "Wait...what, you should not have missed out. I missed out.." she missed out on a lot of things, most of high school really. Fifteen and she was captive in a bunker after an unfortunate spider bite.

    The blush that takes her cheeks helps with the pallor of her skin. She clears her throat and then there is a slow show of her teeth, it grows further before she nods. "I would be more than happy to," she replies and then chuckles a bit more. "Just...well you get me in sweats and a tank, no dress." Or spandex but she's benched and best not to test fate. She's making enemies already.

    She chuckles again, whispering "Chinese Deliver Appreciation Festival," a dry laugh leaves her lips. "Miles...thank you." The humor is needed and the blood scrubbing Cindy is no longer dwelling on her failures and the pain but rather enjoying the moments of stolen youth given back to her.