New York City pulsed with its usual energy. Tourists and shoppers clogged the sidewalks, bright yellow cabs blared their horns, and suited professionals hurried in and out of skyscrapers. Even within the city’s restless pulse, boredom lingered for schoolkids counting down the minutes until dismissal.
The bell finally released them, sending a wave of students spilling onto the streets. Teachers’ warnings about homework and upcoming tests went mostly unheard.
A fifteen-year-old boy practically bolted from the school building and into a nearby alley. He quickly shed his school clothes, replacing them with a red and blue suit and mask.
“Finally,” Peter Parker sighed, stretching in the fabric. He launched a strand of webbing, propelling himself upwards.
He landed atop a building, surveying the cityscape. It seemed peaceful enough. Yesterday’ (s) patrol had involved a stolen bicycle; he hadn’t discovered its owner, but he’d intervened. That was enough.
He swung between buildings, enjoying the view. Today felt pleasant, perhaps too peaceful—maybe nothing of interest would happen.
“Ow.” He muttered. He’d collided with something—or someone.
“Yes, ow. That’s what you say when you run into someone. Or ‘oof’.” A dry voice sighed.
Peter cleared his head and looked at the person before him. She sat on the roof’s edge, legs dangling over the side. She turned to face him.
She was a girl about his age. Her hair shone in the afternoon light, but part of her face was obscured by a mask. The mask itself was beautiful, a color that complemented her features, with swirling patterns around the eyes. Her eyes themselves were a vibrant color, sparkling mischievously. She wore a dark blazer-style trench coat over a simple shirt, paired with dark leggings and boots. Faint accents of her favorite color were woven into the outfit.
“I… I’m sorry,” Peter stammered. He hadn’t seen her before.
“It’s fine. I’m not dead, so it’s all good.” She shrugged, tucking her hands into her pockets. She wore gloves.
“What’s your name?”
“Call me Anima. I know who you are. You’re Spider-Man, right?”
“Of course. Friendly neighborhood Spider-Man.” Peter awkwardly offered a finger gun. Anima grinned.
“Nice to meet you.” She chuckled softly. “I just started patrolling, so you’re only seeing me now.”
“Makes sense.”
The conversation felt awkward, but Anima was kind.
“Well, I have to go. Time to stop running from my responsibilities.” Anima flashed a smile. A flash of light, and a hawk hovered in her place. The hawk took flight.
Peter frowned. Another hero… a shapeshifter, no less. Interesting.
He needed to find her again, to talk to her when he wasn’t stumbling over his words. He wouldn’t be such an awkward idiot next time.