Marvel’s What-if: Spider-Man was on Venlil Prime?
Hey, everyone. First I was super busy, and then as soon as it cooled off, I got super sick. Figures, right? And it was compounded by the fact that the second half of this chapter I’ve rewritten three times, (It used to be quite a bit more tame) and the fact that I wrote the last draft while I was semi-coherent during my illness.
Memory Transcription Subject: Jack Christenson, Spider-Man.
Date: (Standardized Human Time) Sept 12, 2136
“. . . And we got another call from Old Widow Girthel, probably just a voidpin in her shower again.” The bored voice of the dispatcher crackled through the microphone.
"Why are you calling us for that?" A petulant voice responded.
"Because you're the closest unit that can respond." The first voice retorted almost robotically.
"Oh, come on, why us again?! We went the last three times! She creeps Arnis out, keeps trying to match me up with her kids, and her place smells like rotten firefruit." The second voice responded.
". . . You don't have a nose. . ." The droning dispatcher actually had confusion coloring their voice.
"That's the brahking point!" The second exclaimed. "I have literally choked on the odor in there!"
"Fine. It's your choice." The dispatcher returned to their dispassionate tone. “But if you don't go, I'll send up the chain your request to change your patrol route.”
“But I never. . .” The officer trailed off in confusion, before exclaiming in anger. “Oh, don’t you brahking dare! It took me cycles to get this route cowed enough! Do you know how many shops are on here!”
“Yeah. You brag so much about it at second meal.” The dispatcher said, the monotone voice somehow betraying gleeful malice.
The officer grumbled in deliberation. “. . . Fine. Officers Flassi and Arnis on route.”
“Thank you, officers. Have a good paw.” The dispatcher finished with a click.
I blew a raspberry as I mentally disconnected from the static filled words coming from the police scanner. I could actually turn it off, but I decided to keep it on just in case something important came through.
“As it is, the info of them shaking down shopkeeps is actually useful, if a bit cliche. What is this, Riften?”
I leaned back slightly, rocking lightly on my crossed legs. I was sitting on top of a somewhat short building, an apartment complex I think.
I was just listening to the exterminator’s various calls on the newly made scanner. I had mostly finished it, I just needed Starc’s login to basically decrypt the comm network.
He had been kind enough to give it to me before leaving for. . . somewhere. I might’ve pushed a little further than I would’ve wanted, so I was more than willing to let him be for now.
With what he told me, The Facility^(tm) seemed worse than I originally thought. I was definitely going to have to do something about it.
And it's going to have to be legal. I saw the liberties these facilities were given across the Federation, and the support they had from the Governor of Venlil Prime. She seemed like such a nice lady, too.
I had done my research, of course, and found another person that had successfully sued a PD facility, but that was because of a crack lawyer, an honest judge, and an extremely incompetent staff.
Something I wasn't going to have the pleasure of acquiring. The judges are probably just as corrupt as the exterminators around here. Especially if they're engaging in shakedowns and bribery.
Granted, the staff could also be incompetent, if the exterminators are anything to go by. But, “any plan that relies on the enemy being idiots is doomed to fail”, General What’s His Bucket.
I’m sure some general said that at some point.
As it was, right now the plan was to sit on this rooftop, listening to all the Exterminators bicker with each other and comment on various Venlil’s looks.
“They can get rather descriptive. And imaginative. I’m going to need to wash out my ears after this.”
As it was, this wasn’t really going anywhere. I’m going to need to figure out where I can get some actual hard evidence of nefarious doings.
“. . . Great, I’m already thinking like a comic character. When was the last time I used “nefarious’ to describe something?”
My impending mental crisis aside, I had stuff to do. I can’t just sit around and listen to this drivel. Like. . . swinging around doing nothing.
Well, it’s not really doing nothing. I’m trying to get people used to me. I want to get to the point where when I swing by a Ven, they just go “Oh, it’s just Spider-Man.”
Which I suppose is what all of humanity is working towards, but I’m doing it in style. That matters a lot, at least to me.
And besides, when people get comfortable, they’ll actually want to ask for my help. That’ll help a lot in investigating. . . Nefarious evil-doings!
“Yeah, I’m going nuts.” Well, screw it. If I’m gonna dress like a superhero, I’m gonna think like a superhero. Normal people, take your societal norms and shove it!
“Bzzzt-” The commlink buzzed to life again. “We have an emergency call from the Watsa family. Their daughter’s gone missing. Tivra, grey wool, average height. Last seen two claws ago, someplace downtown near Norven street, wearing a tail satchel, a beck satchel, and a. . . ‘hoodie’?”
“Dispatch, can you repeat that?” An exterminator’s voice answered. Several others echoed his confusion.
“Er. . some sort of human top pelt. Covers the torso, arms, and head. Color is claimed to be a mute yellow.” Dispatch answered, his voice quite formal despite his comrades' complete disregard for proper protocol.
“Oh, right, her.” Another voice came in, derision dripping off of his tone. “That stupid brahking humie lover. Shame she turned out that way, she’s a real piece of juicefruit.” My lip curled in disdain.
“Oi, you can’t say that while broadcasting. Don’t know who's listening.” Ah, great. A paranoid henchmen, the worst enemy of a superhero.
“If someone has, they’d have died of boredom by now.” And now an obnoxious, oblivious one. A super’s best friend! “Besides, it's true. How her parents raised such a pred-lover, I’ll never understand.”
“And how your parents raised such a speh-licking buffoon like you, I’ll never understand.” Another officer interjected, followed by a wave of whistling laughs.
“Bah, whatever. So why should we go look for her anyways?” The obnoxious guy asked again.
“Well, mostly because her parents are staunch supporters of the exterminator ideal.” The dispatcher cut in again. “But aren’t particularly generous to our cause. Despite their apparent wealth.”
“Really? Wealthy, huh?” The voices had stopped muttering for a while, clearing the channels quite well. I disliked that tone of voice as I stood up fully.
A peal of thunder rumbled as the skies started to rain. I tried not to think of it as ominous in its timing.
“Yep. They're not quite doing their ‘herdly duty’ for the exterminator guild.” The dispatcher echoed some of my previous words.
There was indistinct muttering throughout the channels as I swung from my perch, heading towards downtown. If someone was missing, it probably meant it was time for me to be “neighborly”.
And considering how they were talking about her, it didn’t seem like the safest idea to let the “good ol’ boys” anywhere near the poor girl.
“Well, I suppose we should go out and look for her.” The obnoxious guy said again. “With her in our back seat, we can really ask them to be ‘generous’ in their future ‘continuous donations’.”
I swung all that much faster through the streets at his pronouncement. I might not have any idea where she might be, or even who took her (if she was taken, and didn’t just run away), but I really should find her before the officers did.
Guess I’ll start from the skies.
Memory Transcription Subject: Tivra, Wandering Venlil
Date: (Standardized Human Time) Sept 12, 2136
The cold, wet air around me seemed to seep straight into my bones. The hoodie I had brought was more of an impulse buy, but now I thanked it for the meager amount of warmth that it had given me.
The rain splattered off of the hood, dripping directly onto my snout. I tried to pull it forward to cover me more, but the manufacturers had never made it for people with long faces. How rude of them! The fact that humanity didn’t know we existed yet was immaterial.
The blindness I had due to the hood was a bit discomforting, but the fact I could just focus on what was ahead of me was nice. It also removed my view of the worried stares of those around me.
Fortunately, there wasn’t really anyone around me. This is why I liked walking around this part of the city. No crowds.
And while the rain also helped with that, I also hated it about as much as any other Venlil.
I don’t like rain. It’s wet and cold and clammy. And it soaks into everything. The darkened clouds that spawned it always made the skies so dismal and dreary.
And Longfield was always like that. It was a fact of life I had gotten used to. We had lived somewhere nicer, closer to the day side, but Dad forced us to move away.
“It will keep us safe from the Predators!” He cheerfully told us. “We won’t have to worry about being eaten anymore!”
“Yeah, right.” I snidely told the Dad in my head. “Safe to do what exactly? Yell at the ‘Dirty Predators ruining the planet.’ and pay no attention to the myriad of other factors.”
Though I would never actually say those things to him. I was too much of a coward. Too much of a good little Venli-.
My self-deprecating herd of thought was interrupted when my legs suddenly went out from under me.
“Oom-ppph!” I exclaimed as my chest hit the ground, then sputtered as my mouth splashed into a puddle. I screwed my eyes shut as I felt the dirty water drip from the wool above my face.
I wondered for a scratch what had tripped me up. The sidewalk was level and uncracked, and I’m pretty sure I didn’t trod on my own tail (again).
It felt like something had caught me at the ankle. I opened my eyes, but the hood prevented me from seeing anymore than my own face reflected in the muddy water below.
“Maybe it was just a fallen branch?” Again, as much as I liked the hoodie, it really did limit my vision. “I hope it wasn’t another druggie hoping for another hit.”
I tried to rise, getting my forepaws on the ground with the intent of getting my legs back under me, only to be stopped by the feeling of something hard pressing into the small of my back.
“Well, well, well. What do we have here?” My blood ran cold at the sound of the sickly sweet voice above me. “A poor, little wayward pup separated from the herd?’
I bleated quietly in surprise when a paw roughly grabbed my scruff through the human-made cloth. “Or maybe a diseased one running from the herd? Why don’t you like your own people, huh, pup?” The voice said again, malice creeping into his tone.
I was eventually hoisted up to the point I could see my captor, a tinted visor returning my gaze. It was a lot worse than a potentially violent druggie, it was a definitely violent exterminator.
I struggled in his grasp, trying to reach up to his paws gripping the scruff of my neck. My body might be trying to force me to go limp, but I wasn’t going to let my stupid instincts tell me what to do.
“Hey, c’mon now. There’s no reason to freak out.” My captor’s partner said patronizingly. “Unless, of course you’ve been doing something bad? Acting like a little lone predator, haven’t we?”
I struggled even harder in the air at his worrisome pronouncement. While any claims of predator disease would have to be tested, I had the feeling the verdict had already been delivered.
“No worries.” The one holding me cooed. “They got real good treatments for bad girls who don’t listen to their parents.”
“I’m. . an adult.” I hissed out at the blank visor. The insulting insinuation of me being a kid was more important to my ego than the immediate threat. I got it from my parents enough.
“Oh, jackpot!” He said, not offended in the slightest. “That means I got the perfect personal treatment plan for you.”
Suddenly, I wished he thought I was just a pup again.
Fortunately, my flailing did some good. One of my backpaws connected with the exterminator’s gut, and the pain forced him to let me go.
“OOOOOWW!” The officer grabbed his midriff as he howled in pain. I landed on the ground hard, straight into another puddle.
“Why, you little piece of shadestalker spit!” The other exterminator said as he kicked me in the face. “Don’t you know when you’re being treated nicely!”
I whimpered as I tried to crawl away, only to be stopped by a paw being forcefully stomped onto my tail.
“I suppose that’s what we get for trying to be discreet.” The exterminator who stepped on me spat forcefully, grinding my tail into the ground with his boot. I yelped in pain as he reached down and grabbed it just above the base.
“Hey, be careful!” Another officer I had missed initially yelled at the other two. “She needs to be unharmed. Mostly.”
“How do we even know that she’s the girl who ran away?” The officer I kicked, their apparent leader, grunted as he got up off of the ground.
“Wha-what?” I breathed out, only to be stopped by another kick. I managed to twist my head so I could look up at them. Better than just taking it suddenly.
“Of course it’s her. She’s wearing a yellow false pelt.” The one on top of me said.
The leader only glared at him, then kicked more mud and dirty water across me. “No she isn’t. It’s obviously mud brown.” He chuckled darkly at his bad joke. The others followed suit.
I coughed as the dirty water got into my mouth. “I-I didn’t. . . run. . a-away. . Why?”
“Of course you didn’t.” One of the officers spoke, once again in that sickly sweet tone. “Because then, your father would actually be worried about where you are. Pity you don’t have that, you dumb lone pred.”
I struggled harder, the water soaked into my wool and clothing hindering me. But all the officer above me had to do was to let more of his weight onto me, pressing down onto my hips.
My efforts to escape were swiftly ended by the officer I had struck before kicking me directly in the chest. I gasped as all the air in my lungs left me, leaving me flopping like a stranded fish.
“Yeah, not so nice when someone does it to you, huh?” The first officer sneered. “I was gonna be nice, and leave you off with a warning, and maybe a little bit of fun, but now I gotta do my spehhing job and remove this predator from the general populace.”
“Yeah, Doc Crainiss has been on our tail about reaching our quota.” The third officer remarked. “But won’t we lose money from the Watsa family if she doesn’t come back? Their ‘future generous donations’? I don’t want to make the chief grumpy again.”
“So what?” The second one said as he lifted a bit of his weight off of me. “Brahk the guild and the gutless chief, we never see a cent of those donations. But, oh boy, does the good doctor pay well. Besides, nobody will ever see her again.”
I tried to escape again as he lifted off of me, but was stopped by the leader getting down to look me in the eyes.
“Now normally, we have to do some really thorough paperwork to get you ‘diagnosed’, but I’ve got a nice little cheat code.” He teased me, before suddenly punching me in the chest. I gagged as I had no more air to lose.
“Don’t need to do a fiddly, stupid test when the suspect outright bit an officer of the law doing his just duty.” He said as he forced his silvered arm next to my mouth.
My eyes widened in fear as I realized what he was planning to do. I managed to clomp my mouth closed before he could force his limb in between my jaws, saving me a few precious scratches of freedom more.
His compatriot sat down on top of me, paws grabbing at my snout. He wrenched my mouth open, ready to clamp it back down again when his compatriot was ready. I resisted as best I could, but he was far stronger than I in this position.
“You’re both sick and twisted, you know?’’ The third officer said from outside my view. But I noted he didn’t do a thing to stop them.
“What can I say?” Their leader responded dismissively. “I like the way it makes my wallet feel.” He said as he tried to shove his arm onto my mouth again. I closed my eyes as he neared again.
“Come on, predator, make this easy on uuuaaAAHAAAAHH!” The officer on top of me suddenly screamed as his weight was suddenly lifted off of me.
I heard him hit the ground again a few paces away, landing with a wet thud. Then suddenly, I was jerked up into the air.
Something had grabbed me by the jacket, lifting me up into the air. After a moment of panic, I felt arms clasp around me.
Thin, strong arms, that cradled me, held me protectively. I clenched at the arms’ chest reflexively, feeling tough fabric and endless muscles coiled beneath.
I cracked an eye open, seeing red and blue fabric, covered in a delicate black web. It was well defined, stretched tight over a powerful form.
I looked up, seeing Spider-Man’s masked face as he glared at the exterminators down below with those wide white lenses. Anger and violence was clear on his body, but so was care and protectiveness.
“And they call me the menace, when I see Arxur in silver clothing hunting the innocent.”