Owner	Pose
Spider-Man	It has been awhile coming. While Peter Parker has done his best to try and lay low as much as possible, to avoid attractign the ire of the New York City Police, the fact of the matter is that he is just not very good at keeping his nose out of things. When he sees something go wrong, he just has to intervene. A lot of that has to do with that one bad decision he made. Just once. To stand aside. To not get involved. And what it ultimately cost him. It was, needless to say, a lesson well learned. A tragic turning point in his life. And he is determined to never make that kind of mistake again. But if he is wanted by the police and he can't help but continue to throw himself into situations where he is going to come into contact with the authorities, well, at the very least he should probably take a few pains to change his look. So that is exactly what he has done. He has spent weeks putting this together, skrimping and saving every last dollar he can manage to put together his new outfit. But at last it's done. Gone is the customary red and blue that marks him, that makes him stand out. Instead he has gone with a black motif, quite practical for nocturnal prowlings really and not so different from his normal costume aside from the color. Though it also features a high neck. He has not abandonned the Spider motif entirely either, if anything he might have embraced it more fully. Though the suit might lack the web-piping, the central symbol dominates his chest and runs down over his pants and along his arms as well, gold piping creating a spider symbol, matching the gold of the eye lenses in his mask as well. Familiar, but different enough. He hopes. So now the new Spidey swings through the city, webbing his way along the Upper East Side, alert for trouble.
Felicia Hardy	For her part Felicia Hardy, AKA the Black Cat, has most certainly not messed with her outfit in the least, that tight black body suit with it's plunging neckline and fur-lining so artfully placed is very much in evidence this evening. Afterall, why mess with perfection? Her intention when the night began was familiar enough. A new resident in the penthouse of one of the Upper East Side's most exclusive apartment buildings offered a tantilizing target. An inticing opportunity to drop by and poke around. To check out some of their luxury items and maybe pick up a souvenir or two. Diamonds are a girl's best friend afterall. Things went smooth enough at first. Touching down on the penthouse's outdoor patio, navigating through the security system and slipping inside was all easy enough. And while there were actually quite a few people in residence, that didn't stop her from sneaking into the office, to sussing out the location of the hidden safe and putting her skills to work breaking in. Most of the time that would be the end of it. This time though? She missed the hidden, silent alarm. It isn't often that she makes a mistake, and when she does she usually has the wherewithal to get out of the situation easily enough. But it proves a little trickier this time. Why? Because apparently the penthouse doesn't belong to just anyone. It belongs to a noted arms dealer. And all the guests crowding the lavish apartment? Those would be his hired bodyguards. Gunmen who are now very much intent on ventilating her very fetching costume. While she looks good in red, Felicia would rather it wasn't her own blood. So she comes crashing through the balcony doorway, glass shards flying everywhere. Accompanied by a flurry of bullets that somehow don't manage to bring her down. Bad luck for her pursuers it seems. Fancy that.
Spider-Man	The sound of gunfire splitting the cool night's breeze is unmistakable. It should be, after all these years afterall. Peter has certainly heard enough of it. Too much really. But he's still here and the vast majority of those that have directed it his way are locked up. So everything has worked out. So far. Veering course as those familiar sounds reach him, Spider-Man turns on a dime and begins swinging his way towards one of those tall, lofty apartment buildings that overlook Central Park. The prize of those that can afford the finest in New York accomodations. In short, definitely not him. As he nears, as those muzzle flashes light up the night it isn't that hard to spot Felicia fleeing across that rooftop patio, that white mane of hair unmistakable. Amongst her other assets. The Black Cat fleeing a lavish Manhatten Penthouse can really only mean one thing of course. But regardless of what she might have stolen this time, no one deserves to be shot over some thing. Angling himself, releasing his webline at just the right moment, the newly black and gold clad Spidey flies through the air in an arch, body contorted nearly impossibly. He hangs in the air, arms flung out ahead of him and he subtley flicks a switch in his gloves before releasing a torrent of webbing, the sticky strands streaked through with silvery threats that gleam under the light of that patio. Find their target, a lattice of webbing spreads across the shattered doorway, blocking it off. But more, an instant later, thanks to the magnetic compound laced through the webbing, the automatic weapons of Felicia's pursuers suddenly fly out of the grasp of the surprised guards and are tugged right into that webbing, tangled up and useless. His arc comes to an abrupt end and he lands in a crouch on the edge of that rooftop patio, balanced perfectly on that stonework railing that runs the length of the building. "Just what trouble have you gotten yourself into this time, Cat?" he asks wryly.
Felicia Hardy	Even with her own little bad luck powers working overtime, it is still something of a close thing. Certainly a lot closer then Felicia would like. And as the bullets soar around, but never quite finding, her, the platinum-blonde haired thief tumbles, diving forward and flipping across the patio, making herself just a little more difficult a target to hit. Every little bit helps, right? Fortunately it seems that she has a guardian angel looking out for her this particular evening. Or at the very least a guardian spider. Those silvery streaks in the patio's bright glare catch her attention though she can spare them little mind, racing across that open expanse towards the building's edge. But the surprised exclaimations behind her, the anger and frustration makes her sneak a peek, catching sight of that web-wall blocking any further pursuit. And the fact that there are a number of weapons stuck there, though their previous holders do not seem to have been caught themselves, instead standing behind that net. Still, there aren't many people who could be responsible for such a thing and a slow smile spreads over Felicia's lips, seeking out the source. The costume is definitely new, but the lines of the body in it and the voice coming from it are far more familiar. Still, the Black Cat slows her approach for just a moment, looking over this new Spider-Man. "Spider, is that you?" she asks archly before abruptly covering that last gap between them, all but throwing herself at the black and gold garbed man. "My hero," she purrs playfully, fingers seeking out the seam for that mask to try to tug it up a bit, but thwarted by that high neck. With a little pout, she settles for brushing a kiss across that masked cheek instead. "We might want to make ourselves scarce. I think I've upset our host. I can't imagine why. I'm so very charming," she protests innocently. But probably not fooling anyone.
Spider-Man	Somehow Pete has a sneaking suspicion of just what Felicia might have got up to that would upset their 'host' so very badly. But he is also fairly certain that whoever their host might be in this instance is probably not entirely legitimate. Afterall, most respectable sorts don't have a penthouse full of armed gunmen at their disposal. There are definitely far worse things then having a sudden armful of Felicia Hardy, though it is probably a good thing that his sense of balance is as amazing as it is, given that he is perched on that railing. Though really, if anyone would likely come out of tumbling over the edge safe and sound it would likely be them, right? Afterall, what sort of reputable spider can't swing himself to safety? And what kind of cat doesn't land on their feet? Still, Spidey takes a moment to steady himself. "I see you haven't changed," he notes drily, glancing past her for just a moment, peering that that intricate web that blocks immediate pursuit, though the men behind it seem to be rooting about, no doubt looking for more weapons to turn their way. "I'd insist that you return whatever it is that you took, but I think we might want to get out of here instead," he admits, straightening a little and drawing the white haired woman up onto the stone railing with him. "Going my way, pretty lady?" he asks rhetorically. Across that patio the sound of more shattering glass can be heard, the muzzle of automatic rifles emerging from that shattered window as their stalled pursuers start to make a new avenue available since the easier means of pursuit has been cut off. Not that Pete has any intention of waiting around for that of course. As the first flash from those guns begin to light up the night once more he simply whirls, leaps and plunges off the rooftop, a webline flung out with that familiar *thwip* as they begin to swing to safety.
Felicia Hardy	Such a gentleman. Putting his back to the gunfire as he flings them off of the patio and out into freefall. Not that it last long. Nor does Felicia seem the least bit concerned, arms draped around him as they plunge downward towards the street below. At least until that flung webline finds it's purchase, turning their fall into more of a swing, sweeping over the streets below, the passing cars oblivious to them, though a few pedestrian's gaze are no doubt drawn upward by the sound of the gunfire. "Why Spider, I'm positively shocked at you. Suggesting such a thing," Felicia purrs, giving her head a shake even as the wind rushes by, head tilted artfully to make those long platinum-blonde strands flutter about her face appeallingly. "If you can't appreciate what I do, at least appreciate the artfulness of it," she suggests with a smile. Then, one hand slips from its place on his shoulder, slides down to the pouch at her side and disappears inside. When it reemerges, it isn't gems or jewelery that she holds -- though who knows what else might be in that pouch -- but instead a black, leather-bound book. Tapping it playfully against Spider-Man's chest, she tucks it close to him. "It seems that I had the misfortune of visiting one of the more pre-eminent arms dealers in the western world tonight. And I seem to have accidentally stumbled over his ledger. With extensive notes about his deals. What he has bought and sold along with who to, and who from. I'm sure the right people would be very interested in this," she points out with a teasing smile. As the swing reaches it's lowest point, Felicia is suddenly squirming free, dropping away. "My gift to you, Spider," she calls out. "And if I didn't say so before, looking good. Black definitely suits you," she teases, falling to the ground. And landing on her feet. Looking up with a grin, she blows a kiss his way, winks and falls into a run, disappearing down a nearby alley as the shadows reach up to embrace her, take her in.