18583/It's Morbin' Time

It's Morbin' Time
Date of Scene:	03 August 2024
Location:	Abandonned Laboratory -- Brooklyn, New York City
Synopsis:	A collection of friends and allies of Spider-Man seek out the Brooklyn labratory of one Dr. Michael Morbius seeking information that might help cure the Man-Spider. The get a nasty, bloodsucking surprise.
Cast of Characters:	Peter Parker, Casey Jones, Mary Jane Watson, Doreen Green, Camille Russo, Kaine Parker, Felicia Hardy, Eddie Brock

---

Peter Parker has posed:
In a perfect world this would have all been easily resolved.

Of course, in a perfect world none of this would have happened in the first place. Kraven wouldn't have stalked Spider-Man, poisoned him, had his mysterious paramour do whatever she did with her strange magicks. Peter wouldn't have ventured to the Savage Land, wouldn't have had his compromised immune system infected by some primordial virus. He wouldn't have sprouted four extra arms and suddenly been faced with the possibility that his life as he knew it was over.

He wouldn't have turned to his old friend and mentor, Dr. Curt Connors, to try and find a solution. He wouldn't have taken the risk of letting the man perform a cutting edge but risky procedure with untested technoloy. And Dr. Connors wouldn't have been deliberately provoked into transforming into the Lizard in the middle of the process, sabotaging the entire thing and leaving Peter Parker, the Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man more of a Man-Spider, hideously mutated with any human consciousness increasingly buried beneath raw instinct.

Fortunately the possibility of some solution is at least on the horizon. While others have made the effort to seek out the Man-Spider -- Black Cat, Silver Sable, Venom and Ghost Spider have all had their runs in's with him in their effort to capture him -- he has remained... difficult to pin down. And really, where would they keep him anyway, until a cure is found? Each mutation seems ot make him stronger, more dangerous, his physical might and quickness already enhanced. New, ingrown spinnerettes embedded in each of those six limbs. And now he even seems to be able to secrete -- and spit -- a paralytic venom.

It is a dilemma.

But thanks to some assistance from SHIELD and Silver Sable International, at least the first part of that equation has been solved. The Lizard was tracked, found, and captured. Thanks again to SHIELD and their contacts in the superhuman community, Dr. Curt Connors is once again himself. He once again has access to the Neo-Genic Recombinator.

He also has access to the data that he gathered in that failed, first attempt to stabilize Spider-Man's genome and restore him to a better semblance of his humanity. And that data is not so encouraging.

What Connors has been able to determine conclusively is that the Neo-Genic Recombinator alone is not going to be adequate to offer a cure. It is part of the solution, but not the entire solution itself.

Fortunately, the contrite Connors comes not only with problems, but also with potential solutions. In this case a particularly unique enzyme that a brilliant scientist has been working on. It just might hold the key to save Spider-Man and restore the balance between Man and Spider to it's more natural equilibirum.

Even more fortunate? The scientist in question emigrated to the United States a few years ago to better continue his mysterious work. Even better, he chose to setup his lab in Brooklyn, only a hop, skip and a jump away.

Peter Parker has posed:
But of course there is a complication. And in this case, the complication would be that Dr. Michael Morbius has not been heard from in quite some time. A missing person's report was filed, a cursory police investigation was conducted, but it turned up nothing. In the absence of the man himself, Connors has suggested that perhaps getting their hands on his scientific data might suffice. The secretive Dr. Morbius has published very little, so the only real solution?

Visit his seemingly abandonned lab.

The building appears to be a converted warehouse, an older building, one of the many converted brownstones that dot the city. While there is a shattered window here or there and graffiti marking the wall that speaks to the recent neglect of the place, it otherwise seems like a solid sort of structure, no doubt further renovated within to make it a suitable lab for the eccentric genius.

Both the front and back entrances are locked, dangling police tape that would otherwise seal of the scene weathered and ripped as the weeks have passed, fluttering in the evening breeze. And of course one of hte upper story windows shows clear signs of having been shattered, the glass from the broken pane almost entirely gone, though very nearly concealed by the shadows cast by the overhanging roof.

Casey Jones has posed:
Casey Jones has no idea any of that is going on. Man-Spider? The Lizard? Venom? Yeah, none of that has anything to do with Casey. Well, it hasn't up until now.

What he DID have an idea about was the gang hiding out half a block away. They'd been pressuring local shops to pay them, and roughing up perfecrtly innocent, weak people to get what they want. Bullies. Casey hates bullies. So, he'd done what he does, and donned a hockey mask, strapped some weapons to himself, and went to clean house. The fight had dragged on awhile and been fairly brutal, trailing from one room in the old house to the next, until each member of the gang were laid out and broken. Not dead (Probably), but hurt. He also made a show of burning or flushing anything they were selling, and made it very, very clear he'd kill them if they ever did this crap again. He felt they got the message.

So now he wanders down the back streets on his slow way home, and this trip happens to pass directly behind the 'abandoned' lab. Anyone looking down into said backstreet would see the long-haired, athletic man. Jeans, combat boots, a faded Soundgarden shirt and a flannel for his outfit, with his mask tucked into the sports bag he has slung over one shoulder. It's a long one, capable of fitting a hockey stick and a number of other things.

Mary Jane Watson has posed:
This was important. This was her best friend. This was about saving him after so many times he'd done the same for her and for so many people. As soon as information had come in via the SHIELD Database, Mary Jane had put a call out along the Spider-Comm, marking it as a priority. A location, what they were after, and wahtever other information she could get. It wasn't much..

But that was soon as she'd gotten it, she'd been running as fast as she could, taking the subway, and texting it to everyone along the way.

So she's arriving a short time later, on her back a massive looking basterd sword with serrated, jagged edges along it that looked different than most normal types of heavy European blades. She's jogging, arriving at the place and then going to scope it out.

"Why's it always have to be in the abandoned warehouse district? Can't it be in the lower middle class residential neighborhoods?"

Doreen Green has posed:
Fortunately Spider-Man has his amazing friends to count on when times are tough... what do you mean that subtitle has already been used? Well, I'm still using it. Because it absolutely certainly fits at times like this, so there! Okay, where was I. Right, amazing friends doing amazing things to help their also amazing friend with his much less amazing and more horrifying problem.

Having made her way across Brooklyn via rooftop as she typically did Doreen Green, the Unstoppable Squirrel Girl as she was known in some circles, jumped down to the pavement just in front of the warehouse with little effort. Squirrels drop from high places all the time and keep right on scurrying so no one should be surprised by this. Wrinkles her nose after looking around, seeing the old police tape and locked doors. "Yeah, looks like the mysterious doctor hasn't been around in a while. Making it even more mysterious." She even holds up her hands to do little spooky finger wiggles for emphasis.

Only to stop when Tippy-Toe (that's the squirrel with the big pink bow for those in the home audience with their Squirrel Appearance Bingo cards) climbs onto Doreen's shoulder and props her temple. "What is it, Tippy?" The squirrel chitters and points up with a forepaw. Doreen looks up. Squints. "You're right, it looks like a window might be out." She glances aside a moment, and waves to MJ jogging up. "I know, right? But then again, most of his money probably went into lab equipment and creepy ambience and little flickering lights that look important and do nothing like every other fancy science lab. But watcha gonna do, eh?"

Tippy-Toe chitters a little more sharply to keep her attention from wandering. "Oh, right! Window, second story, might be open. Let's go take a look." Doreen bounds over to grab the wall and start climbing up to inspect.

Camille Russo has posed:
She hasn't met him yet, but Dr. Michael Morbius is one of SHIELD's occasional contacts, and his work is fascinating, even to her less scientifically inclined mind. It probably helps that it's closer to her own magic. Camille is here to get information on him, and to offer some level of official presence to the other spiders crawling around the city, many of whom seem quite concerned about the Spider-Man to Man-Spider transformation.

She comes to a stop behind a woman with large swords, and drawls out "Oh no honey, that's where the meth labs are. Warehouses are easier to convert into science labs, if the number of them we've busted down are any indication. Less people to call the cops around random explosions and broken windows, too."

Cam's in her standard tac suit, lightweight and secure, guns prepped, additional ammo and a few other tricks in her pockets. Her curly hair is covered with a tight scarf, and there's a full mask sitting on her back, because Stadler's paranoia is rubbing off on her.

Kaine Parker has posed:
"This is what you always wanted. What you were built for. What you were made to do," Kaine speaks candidly before his eyes cast to full length mirror in front of him. "Then why does it feel so wrong?" he asks and a mask over his face. A familiar set of Spider-Eyes look at him, but they're not the red ones against black. They're the familiar white eyes with the black border. He moves away from the mirror looking at the unfamiliar blue arms. A costume change is one thing. This is a different animal. This is an everything change.

Kaine's icon shows up on the Spider-Network, but finding him will provide the world with a different site. And he begins to move toward the abandoned building. People will see the familiar shades of red and blue, but there's some stark differences. The mask is the same, but the chest continues the webbing pattern. However, there's no intricate design, it's the entire torso. Also, the Spider symbol isn't just against the chest, it sprawls across the entire torso even goes up the shoulders and similar. The arms are mostly a familiar shade of blue, no accents or gloves. Only three fingers are wrapped in the red with the black webbing. And where the boots are, they're half blue, half-red with the webbing.

It's the design Kaine settled on. He thought about wearing a red and black number, but something about it felt too dark. Kaine wanted that blue color, but doesn't want to carbon copy Peter's uniform. He won't do that to Peter while trying to protect Spider-Man.

Kaine will slip inside keeping his eyes, ears and other senses open.

Yes, Kaine is part of the Spider-Family, or Friends, even when it doesn't feel like it. And that's why he's doing this.

Felicia Hardy has posed:
"Oh come on, Sarah... what could Vincent DeLuca _possibly_ have on his yacht that's so important to you?"

There's a pause, then, as Felicia Hardy leans a little further back in her chair. Her feet are propped up on the corner her desk in her safehouse, crossed at the ankles, her long white hair lazily dangling behind her as she idly plays with a plastic Tyrannosaurus Rex wearing a doll-sized blue and red Spider-Man shirt.

"The Seraphim Diamond... you're sure?"

There's a *zzt-zzt* of vibration, and she draws the phone away from her ear to look at it, suddenly dropping her feet off of the desk.

"Sarah, I've got to go. Tell Adrian I'll do it. Tell him to get me an invitation onto the yacht. ... No, not Black Cat. Felicia Hardy. If I'm going to sea, it's going to be over a glass of champagne, not in the hold."

...

"Because, for better or worse, the people we deal with tend to stick out in middle-class America," Black Cat answers Mary Jane after dropping off of a grappling line, having swung in beside her.

She's dressed in her full Black Cat regalia -- high-necked poly weave black suit, white gauntlets, white shin guards, and a mask with lenses that looks like it must have some sort of HUD projection on the inside. Her silver-white hair has been pulled up into a ponytail that wishes beside her.

"You know... I usually spend two or three weeks casing a place before I just jump right in to the fun part, but I guess the police already took all the fun out of that." And even as she says it, she gets a glimpse of the blue-and-red costume heading into the building, eyes shifting warily over to MJ. "And I guess if we don't pick up the pace, we're going to be late to the party. I'm here as backup. Just tell me where you need me."

Peter Parker has posed:
The building doesn't exactly stand alone, but there is open space on all four sides. The neighborhood is mostly a mix of old industrial sites and warehouses, some of the nearby buildings converted a few decades ago in an effort to 'gentrify' the area.

Suffice to say, that effort has pretty much failed. Still, it does mean that the neighborhood might not be completely devoid of prying eyes though anyone with a legitimate reason to be around seems to quite sensibly lock themselves in their apartment after dark, leaving the streets to the less savory elements.

Not that it seems that those less savory elements are likely to present any sort of an obstacle to those who have come to this neighborhood on other business this night -- in no small part thanks to the efforts of Casey Jones. Not that they were terribly likely to confront masked vigilantes or redheads running around with huge swords on their back anyway.

But given everything else they have to worry about it is probably helpful to have one less thing on the plate.

As might be expected from any self-respecting warehouse, in addition to the front and rear exits and the occasional upper-story window -- most of which seem to be intact aside from the one that has caught the attention of some -- there are a pair of skylights as well, one on each side of the slanted roof.

Again, the panes of glass there are dirty and neglected, a thin layer of grime on the outside contrasted by the dust that is faintly visible on the inside. But even through that dirty glass it is possible to make out the fact that just beneath those skylights are a host of boards that have been put into place, blotting out any chance of light from that source in leaking through. Of course a couple of boards are unlikely to prove much of a deterrent to anyone interested in this place tonight.

The surrounding buildings all stand at least a little distance apart, streets lining the warehouse on three sides and a good sized alley running up on the fourth side. The occasional stray piece of detritus blows down the alleyway though the area around the warehouse otherwise seems quiet, still, the building next to a similar structure that seems to have shut down for the evening.

As is the case with any of the buildings still in use around here.

It is a slightly different story within the warehouse in question hwoever. Maybe it is a trick of the light, or maybe just the mind playing tricks, but for just a moment there is the sense of movement at that shattered window up above, the uncanny feeling perhaps of unseen eyes peering out into the dark.

Watching. Waiting.

Mary Jane Watson has posed:
Mary Jane Watson would give a nod to Felicia as the two would arrive together, "I'd rather have you here than not." A quick squeeze of Felicia's wrist is given. She'd much rather have the time to prepare and plan to do this properly as well. But they couldn't always get what they wanted.

The familiar presence of Doreen gets a smile and a wave from Mary Jane over to her and Tippy Toe. And Kaine gets a respectful nod. "Do like what you've done with the costume." Mary Jane goes to do a quick surveil of the building and what little might be left around. There's just enough off to have her notice that almost-motion.

Hand goes over to scabbard of blade, ready to snap it out and ready it if she has to. A hand goes over to her side to get ready to yank out a small flare just in case. She's not quite sure -what- they're going to be walking into, but it's never good to go about in the dark.

She would whisper under her breath, "We're here for you, Spider." Hopefully they could find what they were after and get out quickly and save him. She goes to slowly approach the building, splitting up a bit from the others to make sure they weren't all clustered together.

Eddie Brock has posed:
Venom appears behind MJ, looking slightly different from his regular large drooling monster form. If anything, he looks like Spider-Man in the Symbiote, save for the jagged eyes, big spider on his chest with legs now spread apart, and the toes. He doesn't have separate toes anymore. And he's still Eddie Brock huge. Compliments in the box to your right, digits to the left. "They have the best henchmen out here. Good hours." He gives Felicia a little nod, remembering them beating a bunch of henchmen around here just the other night. << Tasty brains, too. >> "Yeah, buddy. Looks like they're fresh out." He's not talking to himself, promise.

Doreen Green has posed:
Doreen Green yelps as Tippy-Toe grabs her ear and chitters at her again. "No, I didn't see anything moving in the window up there. Did you?" A pause, then a squeak and an agitated flick-flick of bushy tail. "That's not really a helpful answer, Tippy."

It's probably just some gangoons or such that have happened to shack up in just another abandoned warehouse, but best to watch their step. Maybe avoid that specific window. Just to be on the safe side.

Which leads to Doreen eventually climbing up to the find a window with the boards already coming loose. "You know, it almost feels like this place was intentionally left rundown on the outside. To avoid unwanted company. This isn't exactly a pleasant part of the neighborhood." Even as Doreen is prying a board farther away from the window. Enough space for Tippy-Toe to crawl through, and knock out the broken glass by the time Doreen has removed enough board for herself to follow. Teamwork!

Kaine Parker has posed:
"You pick the weirdest places to lose yourself in Pete," Kaine says as he starts to move. He notes the grime on the windows. How everything on the outside screams abandoned. The inside is questionable.

"Gotta give him credit. The best places to hide are in plain sight. People wouldn't look into a place like this because of the grime," Kaine nods at the choice. Respect.

Thats when he continues to move around seeing who else is about for the same reason.

He'll chime in over the network, <Does anyone have a visual?>

Felicia Hardy has posed:
It's not always easy for Felicia to remember there are others just as interested (or at least almost as interested) in getting Peter Parker back to normal as she is. At thirty-one years old, she's spent over a decade working 'alone.' Yes, she had a crew that she'd cut in on the profits, but they did what she told them to do. She didn't have 'partners.' She didn't have a 'team' she had to cooperate with. She didn't even like the notion of being a team.

All of her decent do-gooding (however short lived _that_ was) had been a compromise for Spider, and yes, she'd joined the Spider-Comms so she could know when something was going on...

...and yes, she'd shown up at the FEAST shelter, and she'd taken down an arms deal for an EMP, and she'd taken out a warehouse full of thugs with hostages, and...

...God, she really was turning into one of them. She really did have it bad for Peter.

But part of their 'team' or not, she couldn't argue the sheer number of those willing to show up to help Spider-Man once that call went out to all of his allies for assistance. For him, for MJ, she'd hang on to this team thing for as long as she had to... until Peter was safe.

Black Cat smiles a little at MJ, a brief touch of her arm before they part. "You know I wouldn't be anywhere else."

But then everyone's moving towards the building and Felicia's looking up and around. Doreen's going into one of the windows, and... is that movement, in another?

<< "Eyes open. Movement in an upper window," >> Black Cat's voice over the shared comms frequency.

Trick of the light or not, she's calling it out as something, because it's better to be over-prepared than under-prepared.

"Call me if you need me," she tells MJ, and then she's raising an arm, firing a grappling hook into the window that Doreen just slipped through, and pulling herself up towards it so she can slip through after.

Camille Russo has posed:
She rolls her shoulders as the sensation of being watched washes over her, eyes scanning the windows. Cam thinks she sees a shadow, but she blinks and it's gone, though the feeling of being watched remains. Or maybe it's just the awkwardness of being the spare wheel on this mission. Six of one. Dear gods, she hope she doesn't qualify as the sane one on this mission. Do you need a sane one if you're effectively a mission of one? These are all problems for the... hell, she's gonna have to write the AAR for this. Ugh.

It's easy enough to slip around the side of the building, hefting herself to the second level by virtue of a dumpster and the fire escape, and jimmying a window open. Quietly. She hasn't spent her time running with a Widow without picking up a few necessary tricks. A slide of her body and she's in, blocking the window from closing entirely and unholstering her gun, pointing it at the ground as she starts to case the floor.

Eddie Brock has posed:
Using the symbiote as a launcher of sorts, Venom leaps into the air and gingerly lands fingers and toes on the side of the building. Stealth. His specialty. One thing about the symbiote, though, it can speak into the Spider-Comms without being heard locally. << We are on it! >> it calls out, the white spider on his chest the only thing sort of visible outside the lights. << Do you have a floor for us, or can we start at the bottom until we are there? >> If this was the usual monstrous Venom, he'd have licked his teeth after that. But this is not that Venom. Outwardly.

Peter Parker has posed:
That window up above certainly provides relatively easy access to those seeking a more aerial entrance and while the local neighborhood lacks an abundance of tall buildings to make use of for perches -- none of the nearby buildings standing taller then four stories or so -- that is hardly likely to prove an impediment to those gathered here on this particular night. The boards leaned up against it are clearly not fastened in place and easily moved aside.

The doors -- both front and rear-- might actually prove the more difficult to breach, at least under normal circumstances. While the police tape is certainly no barrier, it is more than just the standard lock and deadbolt array at the ground floor entrances, a semi-sophisticated scanning system and key-fob combo meant to secure the building and otherwise likely a little out of place in this particular neighborhood.

To some that might prove a little daunting, though where subtlety fails brute strength can sometimes rule the day.

But that is unlikely to prove necessary. Not when they have some degree of official sanction here with a pair of SHIELD agents -- Camille and MJ -- on the scene. They also happen to have one of the world's foremost experts in getting into places she doesn't really belong. So while the locking system and reinforced doors might prove real impediments to the run of the mill thieves or the local gang members, it isn't going to be an issue for any of those present.

The building itself is dark -- as might be expected for a lab that has apparently been abandonned by it's owner. There is no hint of any lights within -- a quick check by anyone with access could easily determine that the power had been shut off a couple of weeks ago for non-payment. With the skylights above boarded up and with every exterior window except for the one that looms broken and open boarded up as well -- much more securely then that lone exception -- virtually no outside lights creeps it's way into the building, only the faintest lines of streetlight creeping in through cracks between some of those boarded up windows.

Again, not likely to prove an impediment to the determined.

The upper level where that lone window exits out onto is surmounted by a catwalk that dangles from the ceiling, supported by steel supports anchored to the roof. It seems to be in relatively good repair.

For those that can see in the near pitch blackness or have a means of light, there is an elevated office at the far end of the catwalk, likewise raised up above the ground. It is the only truly walled off area within the building.

The building is otherwise open space, the ground floor divided up largely by what appears to be plastic sheeting, cordoned off into four seperate areas. The three smaller areas at the far end of the warehosue seem to mostly hold a variety of lab equipment spread out across a set of workbenches. All of the essentials it would seem along with some equipment that looks extremely complicated and expensive. If Peter were here -- and in his right mind -- he would surely be drooling.

Peter Parker has posed:
The third smaller area that has been dived off by the plastic sheeting holds what appears to be an examination table and requisite gear necesary to conduct more intrusive examinations. A tray including syringes and scalpels along with other surgical gear gleams under any light passed over it.

Lastly, the lion's share of the area seems to be given over to an array of covered cages, again with work benches scattered in amongst them. There are big bags that look like they might hold animal food and the faint tang of iron, of blood hangs in the air. A trifle ominously perhaps.

More unlikely, the faint sound of shuffling from within some of those cages suggests that they are still occupied -- something that surely the authorities would have cleared out when they investigated Michael Morbius' disappearance all those weeks earlier.

Someone -- or something -- appears to have found a use for those kennels regardless.

Beneath the elevated office, a generator sits, a variety of cabling running to the plastic-enlosed areas and up to the office above. The faint scent of gas lingers as well, suggesting that it has seen recent use.

And in the darkness of the converted warehouse, that sense of being watched lingers, maybe even intensifies.

Mary Jane Watson has posed:
As the group goes in and does what, in Buffy parlance, might be called 'Scooby Doo'ing It', Mary Jane goes to sweep along. The lights are dim, the area is dark, and they can barely amke things out. There's the sense of being watched covertly from every angle. She doesn't need the possession of a barbarian spirit from millenia ago to pick that up. She goes to type quietly along the spider-comm.

<<Going to escalate, cover your eyes. Putting out a flare.>> She goes to say this verbally to Venom's link to make sure that it's received and acknowledged. Even if Venom's issues are 'fire' she doesn't want to take a risk. Some things are better safe than sorry. So once she's gotten the impression that everyone is ready for it, she goes to take her other hand to the flare.. And then adds after a moment's consideration <<Whatever it is will bolt as soon as I do this, so get ready to jump>>

POps the cap off it, and lights it. Why play the game of being spread apart investigating and then being ambushed one by one when they're spread out and having to run? She goes to speak quietly over to herself 'Light It Up'.

FWOOSH

Doreen Green has posed:
It's dark. Like darkly darkish darkest of dark darkness. Fortunately Squirrel Girl has night vision!... because she has a pair of night-vision goggles which she takes out of her utility built and slips on once inside the building. It doesn't make the scene any less depressing and creepy, but at least she can see decently. Which isn't making it any less eerie.

<<Is it just me,>> she can be heard muttering over the Spider-Net <<Or does this place feel not as abandoned as it should be on the inside?>>

Tippy-Toe moves to hunker down inside the collar of Doreen's bomber jacket, definitely not liking this place. It's creepy as all out. Or maybe it's that thing they say about animals being able to sense unnatural presences. Could be a combination of both.

"Oh nuts!" Doreen quickly grabs her goggles to pull them up from her eyes when MJ comms she's setting off a flare. We're not about to get blinded like -that- again. It is not a fun experience at all.

Kaine Parker has posed:
Kaine knows where he wants to go first. Going to lab area with the complicated equipment. Given Kaine's own genetic research/obsession, he stands a decent chance of recognizing the equipment. He figures this would give him an idea on what kind of experiments happen here.

The flare goes off and Kaien is thankful his attention is elsehwere. <<It's not>> his voice chimes in as he goes in to inspect everything in this area, slowly methodically. <<The equipment here universities, and maybe agencies, would fight over. You don't leave something this precious behind.>> To him it's that simple. This is probably in use, and that's just by doing a glance.

Also, Kaine might be hoping that getting close to the expensive things might get the attention of what lingers in this building. Yes, he's setting himself up as bait (or at least trying to).

Eddie Brock has posed:
<< Escalate is our middle name! >> Venom replies to MJ's warning. It's true. It's between Ve and nom, and it's silent. When the flare goes off, Venom busts through a window and sticks through the ceiling, sending glass shards flying everywhere. If folks were directing attention to the origin of the flare, well, now they're not so much. For the next step, though.. << We do not detect any delicious presence here. >> Venom reports. << But we are not giving up yet. >> There Venom goes, crawling along the ceiling. Why? Because it's what Spider-Man would do. It's just that it's less effective when you're built like a quarterback.

Felicia Hardy has posed:
Black Cat slips through the window with practiced ease, landing silently not far behind Doreen. The darkness envelops her, but the lenses of her mask automatically adjust, bringing up the superimposed thermal and night vision so that she can see in the dark... like a cat. She takes a moment to assess the scene below, noting the plastic-sheeted areas and the ominous presence of the examination table and surgical gear. The faint tang of blood in the air makes her wrinkle her nose slightly.

<< "The place is a mess, but there are definite signs of recent activity. Watch the cages...">>

She glances around, her gaze settling on the elevated office at the far end of the catwalk. << "I'm heading to the office above. Might find something useful." >> Moving with the grace and stealth of her namesake, she works on making her way up, careful to avoid any loose panels or debris that might give away her position.

As she nears the office, she notices the generator beneath it, the smell of gasoline confirming its recent use. Her eyes narrow. Someone's been here, and not too long ago.

It's about then that MJ announces the flare. She raises a gloved hand to shield her goggles, more out of human-reflex than anything else. The lenses were flash-proof, which made her flashbangs all the more useful when she was getting out of (and sometimes into) dubious situations.

FWOOSH.

She's reaching the door to the office, already moving to test the handle when the flare goes off.

Camille Russo has posed:
"Gods fuckin' sake!"

If the brilliant flare of light doesn't let everyone and the gods know there's activity in the building, Camille's swear might. She slides down to the floor, furiously trying to blink the spots and water out of her eyes after the unexpected flash. Her AAR is already looking grim in her head, and they've barely started the actual mission. 'Watson loses her entire fool head and her ability to do the job the way we were trained when this Spider-guy is involved,' is going to need a whole hell's worth of finesse to come out diplomatically, although 'Recommend Sr. Ranked Agent on these missions not be in the circle of the POI,' seems reasonable.

She taps her SHIELD com-link - the only network she's got access to - once her eyes have stopped watering. << Watson, next time you set a flare off in the room, fuckin warn your team first. >> It's curt, and her Louisiana drawl is thicker in her annoyance. She pushes back to her feet, blinking the last of the spots out of her eyes, and starts doing an examination of the area. Anything they find might be useful.

Peter Parker has posed:
Those flares might not light up every shadowy recess of the building -- it is a good size -- but it certainly does a great deal to make crawling about less awkward -- at least for anyone that cannot see in the dark via either natural or technological means.

It does mean that all those little details become considerably easier to make out and it also provokes more sounds of movement and quiet whining from some of those cages down below -- at least a few of them are quiet definitely occupied.

In quieter moments -- or for those with particularly good hearing -- there is the quiet hum of electronics, suggesting at least a few of the devices down below are active -- perhaps most notably the sample fridge that is tucked away in one of the smaller, plasticed-off sections of the laboratory. While the light within might be off, clearly the samples within are still being kept at a proper temperature.

Clearly none of this is right. While Dr. Michael Morbius might be missing, while he might have been missing for sometime, and while the authorities were clearly here at one point and sealed off the building, removing any pertinent information that might help their investigation, clearly someone has kept the building in use.

Someone who either had the means to get through the doors with their not insignificant security system. Or had a means to slip in and out through that broken, upper storey window, all without drawing the attention of any of the locals.

Kaine's examination of the lab equipment will quickly determine that it is a fairly advance bio-chemistry layout. Despite the somewhat makeshift nature of the entire place, there is no doubt that all the necessities are present, including a few devices that cost a pretty penny to obtain. Not the sort of thing that one finds in most private labs.

But then Michael Morbius is rumored to be quite wealthy.

Those flares leave mostly the roof above left shrouded in the shadow, and they also reveal that the elevated office has had the windows that would normally look out over the rest of the warehouse spraypainted black, to make it impossible to see in -- or out -- let alone any light to make it within.

While the elevated office might be blacked out, it is unlocked, giving the Black Cat easy access. Inside is a desk and rolling chair, though perhaps of greatest interest is the fact that a laptop rests atop the desk -- more evidence that the place has seen use since Morbius' disappearance. The police would have surely taken any computers.

There is also what almost appears to be a... nest. In one corner of the room torn rags and newspapers have been piled, while ragged cardboard is leaned against the wall, looking like it could form a makeshift sort of shelter. It has all the appearances of a squat, though again it doesn't otherwise really fit with the laboratory feel of the place.

As the group begins to spread out throughout the warehouse, each drawn to one area in particular a voice sounds up relatively close to where Venom crawls. "You are not welcome here," it hisses, a generally masculine sounding voice though pinched somehow, almost pained. "Get out now lest I lose control. Lest you interfere in my work. Now! Get out! Now!" it continues, that voice rising, indeed seeming to lose a little more control with each passing word.

Even as it speaks, it seems to move, flitting about the shadowed recesses of that roof, coming from different places with surprising speed.

Mary Jane Watson has posed:
Wellp, this is why she really shouldn't cross-operate in the field. She updated everyone on the Spider-Comm...

But not the SHIELD Comm. She switches to it, and whimpers at that, "... Sorry!" She really sounds like she means it. "I'm really, really sorry." All right, that is not proper comm procedures even as Camille can get her cutting of a 'promise won't do it again' on the rest of the message. And this was proof that Mary Jane could not multi-task.

And the man, the morb is coming out as Mary Jane's hand goes back to lay across her blade, unsheathing it while keeping her other hand calmly on the stick of her flare, holding it up and over.

She can't track quite -where- Morbius has come up, but she can in general kow where everyone is. She's at least made sure that they're not going to be picked off around in the dark now.. And there it is, /something/ is moving up on the ceiling. Mary Jane's body posture shifts over as the general banterful commentary she's had going on stops. Her posture turns hunched, more aggressive, and she walks over on the balls of her feet. Or rather stalks. Hands go together to hold hilt and flare so she has better control of the blade if it turns to a fight.

Eyes quickly go to try and do as best they can to track the mobile shadow, even as she goes quiet. No taunts, no threats, no pleas of cooperation.

Doreen Green has posed:
Doreen Green having no real direction of her own at this point opts to follow after someone else more in the know of how to proceed in these sort of endeavours. In other words, she tails after Black Cat to the office. Though not without noticing the painted over windows. That's just a little bit odd.

No matter, inside is more interesting once they peer through the door. Eyes fall on the laptop sitting on the desk, and then she gives Felicity a cheerful slap on the shoulder. "You go girl, you found something!" She glances back out around them for a moment, because that eerie feeling is still there, then back into the office. "I can take a crack at using it unless you want to first, miss. I get along with computers almost as good as I do squirrels." Thanks to a lot of computer science courses and her own dabbling.

Tippy-Toe pokes her head out long enough to give an encouraging chirrup, then huddles back inside the jacket. This place, or whatever was lurking about it, was giving the poor squirrel the heeby-jeebys.

Kaine Parker has posed:
<Everything I can see deals with genetic research. Separating proteins, separating various strains, the whole nine yards. This should not be in someone's private collection of tools. These things aren't cheap, nor are they common,>> Kaine speaks over the coms as he continues to look over the various pieces of equipment.

Then the voice threatens them to leave. "WHAT?!" Kaine cries out, "I coulnd't hear," he reaches out to hit a random button or turn a random dial. "You," he adds and goes for a second random thing. "Can you," the voice trails and there's a third thing he presses. "Repeat that" a fourth thing. "Please" and he keeps his hands to himself now. Kaine thinks there might be a private generator involved with the expensive equipment. The research is very valuable.

Yes, Kaine tries to poke the metaphorical bear here. It might be a Parker thing.

Eddie Brock has posed:
Venom stops dead in his tracks. "Yeah, tell us something we don't know.." Eddie speaks, his voice coming through the symbiote skin as if it wasn't even there. << We have found something. Do not approach carelessly. MJ. >> Venom comms out as they drop from the ceiling, landing on their feet. The symbiote's clawed hand opens and closes, ready to attack if necessary. Ready to throw a creepy crawly out a window at the drop of a hat. << Reveal yourself to us, we are not here to do harm. >> Venom attempts, unsure where the creepy crawly is currently creeping and/or crawling.

Camille Russo has posed:
The downside to having to rely on one person that is apparently very bad at actually doing cross-communication is that Camille is still completely cut out of the communication happening between everyone else. The only senses and knowledge she can rely on is her own, and after noticing the big dude crawling across the ceiling to seemingly no concern, she's put "ceiling moving" out of her mind as "big guy in the shiny black jumpsuit" and ignores the way her neck prickles.

That there's a second crawler is not on her mind as she disappears behind a large machine near a set of file cabinets. There's the rattling pull of a drawer opening, and the rustling of folders moving along a track. She lets out a quiet, thoughtful hum as she starts rifling through a set of scientific data that seems to be fairly recent. The actual science is beyond her, but the information is useful.

Her reading is abruptly interrupted as she's yanked upwards, papers falling to the floor in a loud, uncoordinated splash that combines with a loud, cut-off yelp of surprise.

Felicia Hardy has posed:
Felicia slips into the office, her eyes quickly adjusting to the change in light as the flares outside cast eerie shadows through the cracked door. The spray-painted windows leave the room in near-total darkness, but her mask's enhanced vision compensates. The sight of the laptop on the desk immediately catches her eye, a clear sign that someone has been using this space recently.

<< "Found a laptop," >> Felicia reports over the comms, her voice low and focused. << "Looks like someone's been using this place as a lab and a hideout." >>

Felicia's eyes then drift to the makeshift nest in the corner. Torn rags and newspapers, piled haphazardly, along with cardboard propped against the wall. It doesn't fit with the rest of the high-tech lab setup, adding another layer of mystery to the already perplexing situation.

It's Doreen's slap on her shoulder that really gets her attention. She whips her head around over her shoulder, and the look Squirrel Girl gets is... stunned. She is, if one had to guess, not at all used to being congratulated so boisterously.

"Right..."

Despite herself, she can't seem to help the little tug of a smile at the corners of her lips as she looks between the woman and her... helper.

"If you can help SHIELD get what they need off of it, it's all yours."

She doesn't even move to take the laptop herself, just gesturing towards it in offering. But then there's that voice, and her head snaps up towards the sound of it. Or.. rather.. the general direction. The general direction that keeps moving.

"Keep it safe... we may need to get out of here."

_May_. Because if they didn't have everything they needed to help Peter, she was going to go face down whatever that voice was. And it didn't sound like she was going to be alone in the fight. Hopefully it wouldn't be necessary.

<< "How are we doing, team? The security system on this one's kind of freaking me out..." >>

Peter Parker has posed:
Oh, they most definitely are not alone.

It seems like a safe assumption that the sense of being watches is coming from whomever -- whatever -- is flitting about the shadows that hang so thickly up near the roof of the converted warehouse. It -- he, from the sounds of it -- flits about at the very outskirts of the glow from those flares, lingering in the dark either for cover or because he simply does not care for the bright light either.

But between the sound of that pained voice that grows increasingly unstable and the movement about the lab -- not all of it terribly stealthy -- it has another effect.

The movement from those kennels increases, the quiet whine or yipping of imprisoned animals sounding, the flare revealing what appears to be stray dogs and cats, a small host of mice and rats, a racoon or two -- and most terribly of all -- a pale and withered looking figure, not necessarily old by any means, but somehow... reduced. A man who might be young even, if he didn't appear to be little more then skin and bones. "H... help... help me..." he manages to croak out, shielding his face pitably from the bright light of the flare, locked up here in the darkness for who knows how long.

There is a good chance that what they are looking for -- information of Michael Morbius' experiments into the rare enzyme that Dr. Curt Connors is seeking -- is indeed present. Maybe it will be on that laptop. Maybe it will be in the biological samples that are present in that specimin fridge. Either way, there is a good chance that they have accomplished their mission.

Now they just need to get out intact.

The thing near the rooftop moves quick -- even for a Spider it seems to flit about impossibly fast. And when it -- he -- finally comes into view for just a moment in is clear that whatever it is that they are dealing with is not quiet human.

One might need to be looking in almost the exact right spot to catch a glimpse of him, sweeping through the light cast by those flares in almost a blink of the eye. And seeming to fly rather then crawl or skitter over the catwalk. Skin so pale to be almost white -- as if drained of all vitality -- is set off by a mop of ragged black fair that hangs at shoulder length, long, tangled strands falling out over his eyes.

What clothes he wears are ragged and torn, barely rags themselves, the sleeves in particular ripped up almost to the elbows revealing finely sculpted forearms -- tipped with hands that end in talons. And something odd on those fingers, on those palms as something akin to suckers or even mouths seem apparent there.

But the glance is fleeting at best and the form streaks amongst that plastic sheeting, using it to obscure his movements, stirring up the plastic as he passes and seeming to pause only long enough to scoop up Camille from by those filing cabinets, jerking her off her feet with ease as he receeds into the shadows. "Fools! Morbius hungers... for plasma!"

Doreen Green has posed:
"Righto then!" Doreen laces her fingers together and stretchs her arms out. Time to put all that computer geeking to good use for something other than maintaining her online popularity presence! She does grunt softly at the other comments over the Spider-Net. "Better make this quick... If this is the missing doctor's info, I don't want to know what whoever is down there has been using it for." Sharp-nailed fingers start dancing over the keys to get into the system and find the info they needed. "Tippy, grab me a flashdrive from my belt eh?"

Being called to help stirs the squirrel from her... squirreling in cover to crawl down Doreen's side and grab the requested item from a pouch.

Mary Jane Watson has posed:
Well, this definitely turned up the creep factor. As Camille is lifted up and into the air, Mary Jane goes to reach up over and goes to call to the SHIELD Comm this time <<Flare out, Eyes OUt!>> And then she goes to say that quickly over the Spider-Comm. She goes to snap out her hand down, grabbing out a gun, to which she moves to yank out another flare as she moves to snap it up and try to aim it over about the center of mass of Morbius, and goes to yell at him, "Flame on!"

That definitely wasn't a Sonja bit. Sonja's bit with flames would probably be more alchemist's fire.

Kaine Parker has posed:
And once Morbius lifts up Kaine readies himself. Then Mary Jane lets out a potentially trademarked phrase. Averting his eyes, Kaine waits for the flare to light up the darkness. The second it's done, "THWP!" A webline goes up and Kine jumps up pulling himself upward. Swinging trying to get toward Morbius.

At least his first day as "Spider-Man" isn't a boring one. Although he did expect th enight to go a little differently. He swings about trying to find his target.

Eddie Brock has posed:
We're doing creepy hand stuff now? Eddie shudders inside the symbiote, but he raises his hand and extends a large tendril from his arm. He's not looking at the flare, but when the light flashes, he's spotted Morbius. << We just want to talk! >> the symbiote calls out in a rumbling bass voice, sounding more excited than would be appropriate, almost like he's lying. Using his other hand to cast out a webline, he zips in Morbius' direction, intent on delivering a Spider-Kick (trademark?) if his tendrils can't separate Morbius from Camille.

Felicia Hardy has posed:
At the door of the office, Felicia's eyes widen as she catches a fleeting glimpse of the figure moving impossibly fast through the warehouse. The sight of the pale, almost ghostly figure with ragged hair and taloned hands sends a chill down her spine. The pained voice echoing through the space only adds to the growing sense of dread.

<< "Stay sharp, everyone. This thing is fast, and it's not human,">> she warns over the comms, her voice tense but controlled.

The increased noise from the kennels draws her attention. She sees the imprisoned animals, their eyes wide with fear, and then her gaze locks onto the withered figure of a man, barely more than skin and bones, pleading for help.

But then, the figure darts through the shadows, sweeping through the light cast by the flares. In a heartbeat, it grabs Camille and pulls her into the darkness under the elevated office.

Felicia's eyes narrow, anger and determination flaring within her. "You've gotta go," she tells Doreen. "Take the whole thing if you have to. Out the way we came in, as fast as you can."

The others are already on their way to help Camille, so she jumps, literally leaping over the railing of the catwalk towards the ground below and landing with -- you guessed it -- cat-like grace. She's sprinting towards cages, because _of course_ she has to do the bleeding-heart thing even with a flying creepozoid darting around.

Open. Open. Open. Open. Open.

She's jerking them open, heedless of the locks as she goes, using that enhanced strength to simply snap them. It's when she gets to the emaciated man that she slows, extending gloved hands. "Come on," she says. "I'll get you out of here."

And she will, carrying him if she has to.

Peter Parker has posed:
Eyes on the prize, right?

The laptop is readily portable of course, but it probably doesn't hurt to have a backup copy of wahtever data is contained within.

The keyboard is oddly marked up -- perhaps because someone with sharp talons has been tapping away at it -- but it is not that difficult to crack the password, to gain access to the files within. While Squirrel Girl might lack some of the scientific knowledge to know exactly what file is important, it is a much easier matter to just dump everything on a flashdrive insuring that a backup copy of the info is available.

Just in case.

There, beneath the elevated office in the shadow cast by it, Morbius hovers in mid-air with Camille in his grasp. Those hands with their grotesque little suckers seem to be wrapped around her arm, seem to be pulsing as if feeding upon her and his head is tipped and at the SHIELD agent's neck. He could be kissing it, nuzzling it, but he quite clearly is not and instead as that flare fires directly towards the pair, the creature reflexively jerks back, pulling fangs clear of her neck, still dripping blood and leaving little trails of that red liquid dripping from the two puncture marks on her neck.

The light of the flare doesn't seem to hurt him -- not precisely -- but he does recoil just long enough to give both Kaine and Venom a chance to swing in, to momentarily distract him, to take away the advantage offered by his flight.

But the vampire-like creature quickly recovers and hurls Camille bodily towards Eddie, not waiting for those tendril lines to reach him, giving at least one of his attackers something else to focus on.

But that still leaves Kaine, who delivers that kick, knocking the flying figure straight back into the wall, hard enough to crack the brick behind him. It should be the kind of thing that puts most foes out of the fight, that ends things decisively.

It does not.

Whatever the pale, vampire-like creature is, it's not only fast, but it's duarble to before Morbius simply pushes himself away from the wall, launching himself through the air, shooting right inbetween Venom and Kaine with shocking speed as he soars towards that open window across the warehouse. "Damn you all! You will pay!" the enraged creature hisses before darting out into the night.

It might not be the last time they've seen him.

For her part, Felicia will indeed find the kennels sealed and locked, but it is hardly a difficult challenge for her, each of those doors giving way beneath her enhanced strength.

For the most part the animals hang back, terrified and untrusting -- understandably so. But at least they are no longer imprisioned.

Peter Parker has posed:
The withered shell of a man -- judging from his clothes he is probably one of the local members of the gang still shies from the lights, face wet with tears -- terror and gratitude intermingled freely on his expression as he reaches a trembling hand towards Felicia. "Thank you... thank you..." he mumbles, his voice so terribly weak. Under other circumstances this could be dangerous, a trap, but the man is so truly pitiable, indeed proving far too weak to do anything but cling to the Black Cat as she helps him to safety.

They have the information on the laptop. They have the blood samples should they collect them. And while Camille might need medical attention -- not to mention a blood transfusion -- she will likely be fine. What hard can come from being fed on by a weird albino vampire, right?

Doreen Green has posed:
Tippy-Toes gives a concern chitter seconding Felicia's sentiment, and that's enough for Doreen. "Right... gonna need the Doc to decipher any of this anyways." She grabs the cord to unplug it, bundling it up and closing the laptop. The laptop is copying to the drive, and it can do that on the go.

But after the previous mishaps and follies in the matter, yes she is damn well going to make sure there is backups, just to be safe and sure.

"Just don't dwaddle any longer than you need to," she replies to Felicia, before bounding out of the office and back across the warehouse to get out the windows once more.