Alex POV:
Later That Night..
Peter and I stand on top of a building, watching over a city shrouded in darkness.
Queens, to be exact.
Whats unfair is, while peter just used his webs to swing up ontop of this building, I had to bust my ass climbing it. It's a 7-story building too. The only upside is that since bears are good at climbing, I guess I am now too.
"So... We're actually here now. Debuting as heroes. Like Mr stark and Captain America." Peter says dejectedly. He seems like he can't come to terms with this fact.
"Not even a year ago, I was a weak little nerd who got bullied daily. Thanks, Alex. For giving me the opportunity to change." He continued, with gratitude tinging his voice.
"Don't stress it, man, you with your conviction, you were destined to do great things," I reply to him.
Just as we are about to continue the conversation, Ned cuts in from our earpieces. And by earpiece, I mean AirPods connected to our phones, where we are currently in a Discord call.
"Sorry to disturb the serious moment, but can we admire how sick Alex's suit looks?"
2 hours ago, in neds bathroom...
Now that I have all of the pieces, I have to put the costume together.
First, the helmet. I use a knife that I borrowed from ned to cut the head of the bear rug in half horizontally, so that the lower jaw is disconnected from the rest of the head, then I sculpt the rest of the head into something I could wear as a hood or a helmet.
Using the same knife, I cut the rug's upper body and the lower body, so that the helmet can flow down and the arms could go over my shoulders or something.
Next, I cut a few pieces of leather from the rug and wrapped them around my gauntlets.
I can't have anybody finding out these are vibranium. I don't want to face off against Wakanda so early.
I look around for something to stabilize the fur onto the gauntlets... Oh! There it is. Neds old belt. He used to wear this when he was fat, and now it's too big since he lost weight.
I wrap the left gauntlet tightly and leave the right side loose. I need the jabbing hand to be aerodynamic, and the other one to look... heavy.
Finally, I try it all on.
First, after taking off my shirt, I put on the leather armour, with it defending my chest, and guarded my left shoulder. Next, the helmet, with the mouth and fangs of the bear covering my eyes, the arms going over my shoulders, and the rest of the fabric hanging over my right shoulder.
Since the leather mostly covers my right shoulder, I wear the shark tooth bracelet around my left bicep, and the necklace around my neck, in between the two hanging bear paws.
Finally, the gauntlets.
I look in the mirror. Damn I look sick. However, one problem is that since I have all this bulk around my upper body, my lower body, that's just wearing regular cargos, seems super bland.
Oh, I know. I wrap the remaining part of the rug around my waist. Perfect.
(Appreciate my drawing skills. This picture of Alex took 3 goddamn hours. Attached here:)
Current time...
"Yeah, yeah, for the hundredth time. He looks sick. He looks like the author spent a whole lot of time on Clip Studio Paint drawing." Peter sighs, slightly irritated that ned likes my costume more, which I made with some furniture and a pair of scissors in his washroom, compared to Peter's Stark Industries studio.
I glance down at my gauntlets, the fur shifting slightly in the wind. The shark tooth necklace catches a bit of moonlight.
[DING!]
Huh? Oh, there it is. I was wondering when the next quest would show up.
[Quest Alert! Daily Quest: Keeping the Streets Clean]
[You have started your career as a street-level hero! Every day, you will be awarded depending on the number and types of crimes you stop.]
[Reward: ???]
There we go. I wonder how good of a reward they'll give me if I stop like a genocide or something. Just on time, I pick up some yells and car horns in the distance. My stance shifts into a more alert one.
Our earpieces crackle and come back on, and ned starts giving us the rundown.
"Yo, I think I got something," Ned's voice sharpens. His cool, nonchalant hacker persona is definitely working.
"Corner of 36th and Crescent. Reports say it's a carjacking. The driver's still in the vehicle. Suspect has a weapon."
"Got visuals?" I ask, already stepping up to the ledge beside Peter.
"Not yet. The nearest camera's busted, but the call just came in thirty seconds ago. You'll probably beat the cops if you move now. Peter, you'll get there faster, so you can clear out the civilians. And Alex, you take him out."
Peter looks at me. "You ready?"
I take one last breath, roll my shoulders, and grin under my hood.
"Anytime."
He nods, aims a webline, and thwips off the roof.
I sigh and step a few steps back.
Time to test this new body's limits...
I take a deep breath, sprint towards the ledge, and jump.
The wind rushes past my face as I leap across the rooftop.
I don't have webs. I can't fly or swing or teleport. But I can run and jump. And right now, that's enough.
The city blurs past below me, streetlights casting flickers of gold between the shadows. Somewhere out there, a stranger's life is at risk. And we're the only ones who know.
I crash into the wall of the next building, softening the impact like Nat taught me to. I immediately start scaling. I make it to the top in just a few seconds, and I repeat the process.
I sprint, I leap, I roll, I sprint, I leap again, I climb, and in a few minutes, I'm at the scene.
I slow my run just as I reach the top of a small office building and crouch at the edge, eyes scanning the scene below.
It's a narrow suburban street, one of those quiet residential blocks in Queens that looks like it hasn't changed in forty years. Rows of parked cars line both sides of the cracked asphalt. The occasional porch light glows faintly behind thin curtains. Faint hums of TVs. The scent of old takeout and someone's dryer vent pumping out that artificial spring breeze smell.
And right in the middle of it all, chaos.
A black sedan is wedged halfway up the street, its tires screeching against a webbed barricade that stretches like caution tape across the road. Peter must've fired it from the lampposts on either side, a tight mesh net of reinforced webbing, anchored firmly.
The car's nose is bent slightly from impact. Its horn is blaring, driver-side door flung wide open.
I see the guy, the suspect, already out of the vehicle. Hooded, tall, shaky hands. He's waving a handgun and yelling at someone still inside the car. Probably the owner. The victim hasn't moved, probably too terrified to even run.
Then I spot Peter, crouched on a traffic light arm above the street. He's already cleared the sidewalk, and a couple of pedestrians ushered into a store entrance, doors pulled shut behind them.
He notices me and gives a quick two-finger point toward the maniac waving the gun around. Translation: Your move.
I don't hesitate.
I leap from the roof and land hard between the car and the suspect, boots slamming into the pavement with enough force to shake a few nearby parked alarms into blinking. I think I might have accidentally knocked out the victim by showing up too suddenly. oops.
The hooded man flinches, but he doesn't stop. The gun's already up.
Too slow.
I lift both arms in front of me, crossing them into an X just as...
BANG!
The shot echoes down the street like thunder. I barely flinch. I'm used to this.
The bullet slams into my gauntlets with a dull thunk and drops to the ground like a pebble, with the vibranium absorbing all of the kinetic energy. I don't feel a thing.
The guy stares. Then, another shot.
Again, nothing.
It seems like he's starting to notice that I'm not a match for him, and stumbles back a few steps, before turning to run.
It's a little too late for that.
I dash forwards and, with a fraction of my strength, strike the back of the neck.
His body goes limp and slowly falls over with a flop, his gun falling to the asphalt with a tink.
A sudden thwip breaks the silence, Peter swinging from above and landing beside me in a crouch.
"Nice setup." I say to Peter, grinning at him under my hood.
"Nice, uh... Punch?" He replies, unsure.
I clap him on the back. "Let's clean up this mess and leave. This can't be the only crime going on in Queens tonight."
In a few seconds, Peter completely cocooned the gunman and left him hanging on the lamppost. Next, again, using his webs, he signed on the same lampost, "Love your friendly neighbourhood Spiderman &", then he paused.
"Hey, Alex, what do you want to be called again?" Peter asks.
I open my mouth to say something cool, then realize I have absolutely nothing cool prepared."
...Screw it. Go with the gut.
"Ursa," I say. Simple. Heavy. Bear-ish enough."
Ned speaks up through the earpiece. "Guys? If you guys are done with your graffiti, the police are arriving in like 30 seconds."
Like he said, I can hear the sirens in the distance, quickly closing in.
"Yo, Pete, we should bounce," I warn him, who is currently finishing up the heart at the end of the message. "I'll race you to the next location."
I can practically see the grin starting to stretch behind that mask of his.
"Hope your bear legs are warmed up."
We run off into the night of Queens, leaving behind the crime scene and the graffiti with the criminal for the police to find.
The graffiti reads:
Love: Your friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man & Ursa <3