Owner	Pose
Peter Parker	It is another cool evening in New York City tonight, the temperature hovering right around the freezing mark, though the breeze blowing in off the ocean certainly makes it feel somewhat cooler. At least the skies are clear, though all the radiant light from the city all but obscures any trace of the stars in the sky. With the hour pressing ever closer to midnight, anyone with an ounce of sense is probably already home, safely ensconced somewhere warm. But this is the city that never sleeps. There is no shortage of activity at all hours, day or night. Warm or cold. And tonight is no different in that particular respect. There is no shortage of things to do, even at this hour of course and there are enough bars and clubs even on the East Side that there are people out, both on the sidewalks and the streets. While they might not be as trendy as some other parts of the city, everyone has their favorites. Of course not everyone is out here to have fun. That would suggest that he had something approaching a life and that just would not due. Heck, he doesn't have time to go out and look for fun. Really, he should be at home, studying. But instead Peter Parker is crouched on a rooftop only a block or two away from the Daily Bugle building, huddled in on himself at the cool breeze that sweeps along the city streets, rubbing gloved hands together as the Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man peers down below. "Thirty more minutes. Then I'll go home and study. Honest," he mutters to himself, perhaps not paying quite as close attention as he might otherwise. Which could be why he doesn't notice the pair of figures detach themselves from the shadows of a nearby alleyway. Doesn't notice as they suddenly lurch up in front of the woman who is fumbling with the keys to her car. Only when a scream pierces through all the other noises in the city, when the engine of her hijacked car suddenly roars to life and tires squeal as the vehicle begins to tear down the street does Spidey snap out of his reprieve. "Ha! I knew I wasn't wasting my time!" And with that the wall-crawling hero flings himself from his perch, leaping out to the looming drop to the city streets below.
Kenesha	Kenesha lets nothing get in the way of her enjoyment. Then again, at her age, what else is there left to do? Oh sure, she joins the Hero Club now and then, helps defeat a threat or three, then largely just fades back into the background of humanity. Not that she's human. But she looks the part, at least! One would think it would be hard to hide an attractive twenty-something blonde woman who dresses like she's out of the 1940s... but this is New York City. She doesn't even rate an eyebrow raise from the little Greek market where she picks up her favorite chicken soup. A container of it is carefully wrapped and tucked into a small thermal bag that she has in one hand. She could speed away, or teleport, or any number of fast means of transportation.. but it doesn't do to just disappear from a populated street. And Kenesha tries to be solicitious of such things, leading her to seek out a more secluded spot where she can zip back to her place to enjoy some very good, very hot, lemon chicken soup. Now if only that plan weren't about to be ruined by the intrusion of two very rude car thieves as they take off in their stolen prize. Heaving a small sigh, Kenesha hurries over to the woman, offering a quick smile, "Hey. Stay put, hold this, and I'll bring your car right back. Thanks!" The soup is placed in the woman's care before Kenesha takes off after the car. Now, she could overtake it, quite easily, but New York City traffic is already terrible. Having a speedster zipping around and causing chaos just won't do. Instead, she keeps it to a speed where she can follow, quickly, without overtaking. Still faster than the average human would be running! Now if only she could get a glimpse into the back seat of the vehicle....
Peter Parker	Traffic is light enough at this hour that it is actually possible to weave in and out amongst the cars that populate the street and the car zips along, doing just that in somewhat reckless fashion. Not exactly the wisest decision to be sure, but then what would one expect from car-jackers? They've already shown that they make pretty poor life decisions as it is. Even as that leap out into open air begins to fade, even as the inevitable pull of gravity begins to tug at the red and blue clad figure high above the street, one hand flips out, a pair of fingers and thumb extended as the other two reach back to trigger the web-shooter mechanism that stretches out over his palm, firing off a long strand of webbing with that customary *thwip*, the webbing finding it's mark, latching onto the ledge of a building down the street and leeting Spidey slip into that trademark swing, dipping low towards the street. Seeing someone already rushing over to help out the fallen woman, he doesn't pause, instead flinging out his other hand to let loose with another burst of webbing, building up that momentum, that speed as he continues to race his way down the street. She looked more shocked then hurt really and the way those two are driving means that others are probably more in danger from that runaway car. If the pair in that vehicle realize they are being followed -- either in the skies above or on the street below -- they give no sign of it, at least nothing beyond hightailing it through the city streets, tearing around the corner as they race eastward. Towards the river. Only the pair of men seem to be in the car, the backseat seemingly empty. No potential hostages at least. Swiftly making up ground, Spidey swoops in low, only a few car lengths behind the vehicle, distracted momentarily when he spots a familiar figure. "Huh... I could of sworn that was who was going to help that woman..." he mutters under his mask. And before he can fling out a webline towards the speeding vehicle, tires squeal once more as it takes the corner at a highspeed, racing out onto Frankling Roosevelt Drive, heading for the Williamsburg Bridge.
Kenesha	Kenesha isn't looking for hostages when she looks to the backseat. Although, it's good to see there don't appear to be any. Oh no. She just.. needed to see where she was going. Teleportation is a tricky thing. Getting somewhere is easy! If you've been there before, or at least seen it. Trying to teleport into a moving vehicle is tricky enough, doing so sight unseen is usually disastrous. But once she can look into the back seat, well. The car takes the corner to head towards the Williamsburg Bridge, and Kenesha's right on its bumper. She looks, she calculates, she wills... and she blinks off of the street and into the backseat of the car! "Woo! That's always a bit of a rush. Hi guys. Look, I know that snatching a car and running it to a chop shop *seems* like an easy way to make a quick buck but seriously. New York City has the *highest* number of superheroes per capita of any other city in the *world*. Now. Why don't you guys do the *nice* thing and stop the car, let me take it back to the nice lady you stole it from, hm? Then we don't have to bother with the punching and the kicking and the screaming, right?" Kenesha natters on from the backseat that she very much wasn't in just a moment ago, smiling at the jackers and fading in between her professor voice and her casual voice. There's a chance that these men will scream and either slam the brakes or the gas when they get a surprise visit from someone that looks like a cross between Amelia Earhart and Indiana Jones. But Kenesha is braced for either option, and a quick glance behind shows plenty enough space behind them that if they DO choose the brakes, nobody is going to rearend them. What's trickier is if they choose the gas. Then it becomes interesting.
Peter Parker	Surprise, surprise. They choose the gas option. The car lurches forward, picking up even more speed as the unfamiliar and unexpected sound of Kenesha's voice in the backseat makes the dark haired man in the driver's seat try to race away, as fruitless as that might be. "What the fu--" his partner in crime starts to exlaim, reaching for his gun even as he tries to twist in his seat, to peer back over his shoulder. But even as he starts to bring that weapon up the car lurches violently to one side as the driver jerks the wheel, the sudden acceleration threatening to propel them straight into the car ahead of them. That is enough to send the man's aim wildly off the mark though when his finger reflexively pulls down on the trigger it sounds like a thunderclap going off right inside the vehicle, the bullet smashing out the back window, sending glass shattering all over the place. It also leaves the fleeing vehicle in the wrong lane for a moment, right in the middle of oncoming traffic as the bright lights of headlights coming the other way fill the car for a moment, blinding anyone who might be looking the wrong way. Like say, the driver. Who again jerks the car hard the other way, sending it careening back into the proper way though with the distinct feel of being out of control. Up above, Pete watches as the woman somehow, impossibly keeps up with the car. And then suddenly vanishes. "Okay, either I'm sleep deprived or something really unusual is going on," he says, the arch of his swing swiftly bringing him close to the car once more. Again, just before he can lash out with a webline to snare the fleeing vehicle it jerks hard into the other lane, the rear window blowing out a moment later as the unmistakable sound of a gunshot echoes across the street. "Uh oh..." he mutters, that little tingle in the back of his head beginning it's warning vibes. Letting go of the webline he holds, Spidey takes flight for just a moment, arcing towards the vehicle and abruptly landing on the roof with a loud thud -- just as it suddenly swerves out of the line of oncoming traffic. Ducking low, the arachnid hero clings to the rooftop, practically pressed flat to it to hold on as the hijacked car lurches about wildly. "Oh c'mon!"
Kenesha	Sighing at the poor choice the driver has made, Kenesha can't help but wince at the sound of the gun going off in closed quarters. Reaching out faster than a human could move, she grabs the gun and yanks it from the accomplice's hand, the other hand reaching up and... flicking the man in the center of the forehead. It's hard enough to disorient and stun for a minute or two, though not enough to deal any permanent damage. "Humans... you're such *children* sometimes." Kenesha looks to the driver, "Look. I really don't want to hurt anyone. But you're not keeping this car. There's no scenario here where you get away with this vehicle. Pull over, take your friend, and go. That's the best you can hope for. Worst case..." The thump of Spider-Man's landing on the roof of the car has her nodding, "There it is. You see. You've drawn the attention of one of the superheroes. Now the best you can hope for is jail and a minimum of physical discomfort. I suggest you take them up on the offer. You'll receive minimal sentencing, general population, and a good chance at early parole if you behave inside. Clock's ticking." Kenesha raps her knuckles lightly on the roof of the car and calls up, "Hello superhero! There's a chance these men may pull over and turn themselves in, in lieu of a physical fight that will surely end badly for them! Please hold for a few moments, thank you!" Then back to the driver, "I really recommend pulling over and turning yourself in. The fight would be short but highly painful for you and your friend."
Peter Parker	The gun is easily ripped free from the shaky grasp of the man in the passenger's seat as he's flung about like a ragdoll -- a situation that does not significantly improve for him when that superspeed flick jerks his head back, leaving his eyes glassy momentarily and his body almost limp, his nervous system simply overwhelmed by all the different forces working upon him right at the moment. "I don't know where you came from lady, but you're crazy!" the driver exclaims, trying to blink his eyes clear of all the little black dots that fill his vision, to clear away the glare of those bright headlights while regaining some semblance of control over the car. It is a task that gets a little trickier as the turn for the Willamsburg Bridge appears right up ahead and again tires squeal and it feels like the car might actually leave the ground for a moment as it tears around the corner. Up ahead traffic has slowed considerably -- the toll booths that are spread across the roadway no doubt somewhat responsible for that and again the car careens into one of the quicker, automated lanes, plowing towards the looming barrier that stretches across the traffic lane even as the driver too tries to fumble for his weapon, only a single hand on the wheel. Atop the speeding car, Spidey no doubt is extremely thankful for his power to stick to just about any sort of surface, though the erratic driving of this particular vehicle is putting it to the test. Hands grip the rooftop beneath him tightly, maintaining that hold, though with each wild corner they take his back half threatens to slip from the roof and dangle over the side. Finally he manages to turn himself around, to peek in through the back window to see the strange and unlikely sight within the car itself. "If you say so. I mean, I appreciate your optomism. Good on you for still believing in the inherent reasonableness of people," he says before jerking his head back and out of sight as the driver blindly flails with his own weapon, sending another shot whizzing out the back window. "I hope you won't be offended if I tell you I don't share it though," he calls out, planting those hands on the roof once more and flipping forward to land in a crouch on the front hood of the car.
Kenesha	Rolling her eyes at the driver's response, Kenesha yanks the gun from his hand as well, tucking both into her satchel. "You're really being entirely too stubborn about this, you know. What exactly do you think is going to happen here? That you're going to kill someone that routinely takes down super-powered villains on a global scale so you can get away with, what... an '08 Chevy Malibu? Truly, a caper worthy of note." Her tone doesn't get much drier. Spider-Man's appearance, albeit briefly, in the back window, leaves her chuckling. "I like to hope for the best in all things. That doesn't mean I'm ill-prepared when it doesn't happen!" Then he's flipping down onto the hood of the car. Kenesha waves at him from the backseat, grabbing the driver with the other hand, and... Suddenly it's Kenesha in the driver's seat, with the car jacker in the back. She smiles at Spider-Man and offers, "Hold on, I'm slowing down and pulling over. You're welcome to the men, but I promised to return the car to that lady, so I'd like to take it back to her if you don't mind." Completely calm. Completely unconcerned about either the man in the seat next to her or the one now behind her. "Oh, and I'll turn over their weapons to you, I'm sure they'll be useful in the trial."
Peter Parker	It's difficult to say just exactly what Spider-Man intended to do. Maybe he was planning to punch his way through the windshield and haul the driver out afterward. Maybe he was going to fire out a host of webbing and bear down to try and slow, even stop the car before it plows into the little barrier up ahead that blocks the road -- at least until the toll has been tossed in the waiting basket. Either way, as it turns out it is all a little unnecessary. Just as he is about to act, Spidey suddenly finds that the driver and the woman in the backseat have suddenly switched places and that instead of having to strain every last muscle in his body to try and stop the speeding car, she's bringing the nearly out of control vehicle to a neat and tidy stop, several feet short of the toll barrier. In the car, the man in the passenger seat still seems to be in something of a dze, and suddenly without a gun and impossibly shifted out of his seat to boot, the driver doesn't seem to be in much better shape, mouth open, gaping. rpbably more so at the woman who has so ruined his evening even more so then the wall-crawler crouched in that suitably action-oriented pose on the hood of the vehicle. "Huh. Well. That involved a whole lot less arm and leg muscle strain then I expected. Thanks for that," Pete says casually from beneath that mask, those mirroed eyes still arching with surprising expressiveness for a mask. "I mean, I guess you did the lion's share of the work so you can do what you want with the car," he allows, idly scratching at the back of his head. Hopping down off the hood of the car, he circles around and first hauls out the man in the passenger seat before doing the same for the one in back. In no time at all both men are webbed up and dangling from a light standard overhead, their weapons likewise hanging from a couple of strands of webbing, waiting to be picked up by the authorities. "The police and I don't really always get along, so I'll just leave all this here for them. If you wanted to remind the woman to go to her nearest station and file a report, I'm sure they'd be much obliged though," he suggests.
Kenesha	Kenesha flashes a grin as Spidey so very neatly wraps up the bad guys in webbing, along with the weapons that she withdraws from her satchel to hand over to him. In the meantime, Kenesha will take the time to carefully lift the car up, walking it over to the lanes going back into the city, then setting it carefully back on its wheels. Turning back towards Spider-Man, she chuckles, "Do cops get a long with most people? Especially people that do their job for them?" Pausing, she looks him over, "Hey, how about you hop in and come with me to drop it off. I'm sure the lady will be highly impressed to have her car returned to her by Spider-Man. Besides, I left my lemon chicken soup with her. It'll start getting cold if it sits too long. You're welcome to join me in eating it. Well-deserved treat after a night of fighting crime? You pick the rooftop." She flashes a grin at him and waves him over. Getting into the driver's seat, she'll run the window down and lean an arm out of it, smiling at him, "Coming? I'd hate to see really good chicken soup go to waste."
Peter Parker	It is a pretty impressive display. Yes, he is capable of lifting a car admittedly and there's certainly a few people in his orbit that can do the same, and even more. But not many that can do it quite so casually, as if it were a perfectly ordinary, every day task. Not to mention that they, for the most part, definitely wear costumes of some sort or another. And she distinctly is not. It's certainly not what Spidey expected to see when he chose to get involved what he expected to be a fairly run of the mill carjacking. By rights he really should be thinking about getting home, at trying to work ahead on his reading, maybe get a start on some of the lab work that is starting to pile up. On the other hand though he's curious -- like any good scientific genius should be. And he's also hungry, which is frequently the case. Swinging around the city might be pretty efficient compared to owning a vehicle, but it does give one a pretty good workout. "Mmmmmm, I'm not sure why she should be impressed with me given that you did the lion's share of the work," Pete points out wryly, scratching at the back of that mask for a moment. And as she casually sets that vehicle back down in the proper lane to return it to it's unfortunate owner, he hesitates for just a moment before hopping over the devides between lanes, moving towards the passenger seat. "But, since you said the magic word..." he allows, slipping in beside her. "Food. Food is the magic word." It's pretty hard to pass up a free meal. Besides, the Bugle building is close and so he has a fairly good idea just where she might have picked up that soup from. He's not about to pass that up.
Kenesha	Kenesha is indeed an anomaly amongst most heroes. While she keeps a low profile, she doesn't bother with masks or costumes or capes. She simply.. goes about her aid quickly and efficiently and then just.. disappears. Or in this case, offers a ride to a superhero with the promise of food at the end. There's plenty of beings that can casually lift a car, but most of them tend to run around with a big S on their chest, or have a brightly glowing lasso, or boast green skin, or dress in bright crimson armor and stand 10 feet tall. It doesn't usually come from someone that dresses like they're in a timewarp to the 40's. "She won't know that, and I'd rather let you take the credit for the save. I'm not in it for the accolades, I just help out when I happen to be in the area. Last thing I need or want is my picture being splashed all over the front pages." Kenesha offers a quick smile and starts the car up as he joins her. Starting off, she drives expertly, keeping to the flow of traffic, keeping a proper distance between her and the car in front of her, etc. Safe driving! Laughing lightly, she gives a nod, "Your metabolism must be on constant overdrive. If you don't mind my asking... genetic tampering? You could be an alien in sheep's clothing, but I'm not getting any pings from any species I know of, so I'm guessing human. Genetically enhanced human." If he looks closely, and pays attention to such things, she might seem familiar. As if he's seen her somewhere before. Depending on his interests, he might have attended a lecture or read about a dig or some artifact that she'd discovered. Archeologist and multiple PhD holder.. Dr. Kenesha Jones. Thankfully, most people aren't super interested in such things anymore, so she's rarely spotted, but it happens!
Peter Parker	While Spidey can certainly make his way through the city much more quickly relying on his webslinging alone -- even at this hour when the absolute crush of traffic in Manhatten has become something a little more reasonable -- there is one distinct advantage in riding over swinging. The heat. The glorious, blessed heat. It's not as cold in the city as it might normally be at this time of year and he tends to keep moving a fair bit which certainly helps. But to let his wallcrawling work properly his suit is not exactly thick or excessively padded. Which makes it distinctly chilly at times. So if Pete leans towards the flow of heat, he can probably be forgiven. He might be able to take the cold a little better then most baseline humans. That doesn't mean that he likes it any better. To put it mildly. He may have noticed the way she dresses. Then again he might not really have taken note of the old timey style. Afterall, this is New York. It's not uncommon to see all manner of styles whenever you end up walking the streets. And there is also the fact that she lifted the freakin' car. That is a little more eye-catching really. He does shoot her a look at her analysis of his metabolism though, tilting his head slightly to the side. "Run into a lot of different alien's do you?" he asks lightly before giving a faint shrug, those overly expressive eyelets on his mask raising. "You're not wrong though. There was a genetically altered spider. And radiation. And I guess a geneic precondition that explains why I have fabulous spider powers instead of being a corpse," he says with a shrug. Being Spider-Man does occasionally suck. It has played hell with his social life at times. It has made him, to put it mildly, a divisive figure that some people admire and some people out and out hate. And the pay absolutely sucks. But it beats being a corpse. "I know you from somewhere, don't I?" he muses. Certainly Pete is a little more scholastic then most heroes of his ilk, particularly at his age. And while his focus might be on bio-chemistry, his academic interests can be a little far ranging.
Kenesha	Kenesha is far more perceptive than she lets on. When she notes the lean Peter adopts, a small smile touches her mouth and she reaches over to boost the heat and the power of the air air flow. She doesn't say anything about it, just adjusts the heat and keeps on driving. While the temperatures for the normal seasons in most any country don't really bother her, she knows that that's not the case for most people. ANd while he may be extremely strong, durable, and flexible.. that doesn't mean he doesn't still feel the cold. The question he asks has her chuckling softly, "More than you might think. The universe is a vast and interesting place." Nodding as he gives a basic overview of how he came to be Spider-Man, Kenesha glances at him briefly, "So you had a latent but dormant metagene that was activated by the bite of the radioactive spider. That tracks. Most metagenes are activated during times of increased physical trauma. Not to be confused with the x-gene of the mutant race. Different genes, different origins. Spider powers... I assume that means enhanced strength, durability, reflexes, perception.. I've seen the webbing that you produce, fabulous invention, by the way. Do you know what genus of spider it was that bit you?" Darting another sidelong glance at him, one corner of her mouth kicks up, "It's possible. I get around pretty easily. But you would have to be more specific for me to confirm or deny if I am who you think I am. Think on it, let me know." Kenesha adds in, "You study chemistry of some type, I can tell that from the webbing. What other interests do you have?"
Peter Parker	Clearly he isn't the only one with a passing knowledge of science present in the car. Which isn't really all that strange to Peter given the circles in which he travels. As Spider-Man he has come into contact with some of the most brilliant scientific minds around and while he might not be quite up to their level of genius, he holds his own. And as Peter, well, when he's not doing the whole costumed thing his social circle is very much filled with fellow science nerds on the campus of ESU. Still, there's not many who could easily digest the little information that he offered up and come to pretty accurate conclusions quite so easily. So once more the masked young man tilts his head ever so slightly. "Well, I can't argue with that. And this is New York. Alien invasions seem to happen every other week," he conceeds. It does keep things interesting. And keeps a friendly neighborhood Spider-Man hopping from one crisis to another as well. "And yeah, that's pretty much the size of it I imagine. Just your typical story of nerd meets spider, nerd gets bitten by spider, nerd wakes up the next day with amazing and unexplainable abilities," the masked man offers up lightly. "And it was a genetically engineered Spider so it was a combination of several different ones. That probably had a little something to do with how everything turned out," he conceeds. While he might have been left with some truly remarkable physical abilities from that radioactive spider bite, the mental side of things is all him. His memory works just like anything else and while that distinctive wardrobe might nag at his senses and help, it doesn't immediately fill in all the blanks. "Bio-Chem is my speciality, but I'm a pretty big fan of the sciences period. Academics in general," he conceeds. He does decide not to mention his fondness for comics and Lego, though tech -- classic and otherwise might fit a little better with the superhero thing. "It was a few years ago... a lecture..." he muses aloud, those eyelets quirking once more, making that masked expression almost quizzical.
Kenesha	Kenesha's own people, by their nature, have higher than average intellects. That said, while each Kherubim has baseline abilities, each also manifests their own individual talents. For Kenesha, her genius is one of hers. And she's had a very, very long time to develop it. She's watched science develop here on Earth, slowing overtaking superstition and occultism as more of the world becomes explained by science. It's been interesting to watch, and occasionally, participate in. She notes his headtilt and chuckles softly, "Sorry, I know I'm probably provoking all manner of curiosity and questions. I have a.. unique.. insight into genetics and biology. It isn't my preferred field, but I can certainly hold my own in any discussion about it." "You know, Earth *is* a big, juicy target these days to alien races of all kinds. From the warmongering conquerors to the downtrodden refugees. But then, Earth has been hosting alien life for far longer than most people think." Kenesha glances at Peter and offers a quick smile, "And that *is* in my field." Nodding to his response, Kenesha considers it for a moment before glancing his way, "Well, if you ever want to deep dive into your own genetics.. let me know. I can likely let you know which spiders went into the creation of the one that bit you, if you can expect any additional future mutations or powers... no need to be surprised by such things." "Hmmmm.. a few years ago. Okay, I lectured at ESU three times over the past few years... Cornell once... SUNY once... so in that case, you likely attended an archeological lecture, the subject of which depends on which year the lecture occurred." Kenesha flashes a quick grin at him, "Or rather, my alter ego did." They're nearing where the woman is, perhaps surprisingly, still waiting for the return of her car. Pulling up to the entry of the parking lot, Kenesha motions for Spider-Man to exit as she turns off the engine and pulls the keys to give to the woman. "Hello again! Thank you for holding onto my soup. Look who managed to stop the car jackers and saved your car! There is some damage to the rear window, and I do apologize for that, but this should cover the replacement window." She pulls out a few crisp hundred dollar bills and holds it out to the woman while taking back her thermal bag with its precious precious cargo.
Peter Parker	"I *might* have noticed that," Spidey agrees wryly, giving a slow shake of his head. Again, New York City does seem to be pretty much ground zero for such alien encounters at times, though he understands Metropolis gets more then it's fair share as well. But he's born and bred in Queens. He's a New York boy through and through. He can be a little biased if he wants to be. "And I guess I get it. I mean, it's a pretty awesome planet for the most part. And I would imagine that there isn't anywhere else in the cosmos that you can pick up as sweet a slice of pizza as you can around here. Definitely worth invading or at least settling in, just for that," he quips casually. Given her knowledge of aliens, of advanced science, it shouldn't come as a real surprise that she might have access to some fairly advanced genetic analysis abilities. She lifts up cars, and might be one more person he's met who actually has a greater knowledge of science then himself. Why wouldn't she? "I might take you up on that sometime," he says after a brief moment of consideration. All in all he has been pretty lucky. His genetic structure has been remarkably stable since that spider bite nearly six years ago. But Pete understands that nothing is guaranteed on that front, especially since his genetic makeup has already proven... adaptable. If it has once, why not again? It is the mention of the lectures that finally clues him in, that triggers his memory at last and he snaps his fingers. "Ah ha. That's where I know you from," he chimes in with a knowing nod. "Dr. Kenesha Jones. I saw you lecture a few years back," he agrees, glad to have solved that little mystery at least. Not that he doesn't enjoy a good puzzle of course. "Not my field admittedly, but archaeology does seem pretty cool," he conceeds. Maybe not as compelling as the world of science though. At least to him. As the car glides to a stop, Spider-Man hops out of the car and tosses a slightly awkward wave to the extremely grateful woman who makes a fuss over them both. Any concerns she might have over the shattered back window are quickly allayed by those crisp hundred dollar bills. And while Peter might not be fully at ease at taking credit for something he didn't fully do, he can understand the desire for anonymity at least. Fifteen year old Peter Parker might have craved fame. Twenty-One year old Pete doesn't have quite as much enthusiasm for the infamy that it has brought along with it.
Kenesha	Waving at the woman as she gets into her car and drives off, Kenesha turns back towards Peter with a smile, "Well. Now that that's done... pick your spot, we'll sit down, have some truly amazing soup. I'll be glad to answer any questions you might have. If I can. I will admit to being highly intelligent with a long memory, but I'm not omniscient." The smile takes on a rueful bent, "Even if it seems like it sometimes." Laughing softly, she gives a nod, "Very true. I've seen a lot of places, but Earth is the only one that I've known that has pizza." Still not giving away what she is, even if she's open to answering his question. It's likely just an ingrained instinct, to blend in, look human, be human. Nodding to his response on her offer, Kenesha will leave it there. If he wants it, he'll reach out. She's not one of those weird scientists that pushes for 'test subjects'. Now that the woman is gone and there aren't any others around, she turns a smile on him, "And you're correct. My current alter ego is Dr. Kenesha Jones.. noted archeologist. As for being 'pretty cool'.. my brand of archeology isn't the usual 'dig up dino bones or unearth ancient farm fields. I tend to work exclusively with sites that are suspected to hold evidence of either magical influence or alien technology. Better it stays with someone that understands it's nature and dangers, than some poor human get taken over by by some evil spirit or consumed by some alien tech."
Peter Parker	Before she departs, Spidey does call out to the woman with that reminder to head to a police station to make a report about the situation. Afterall, to detain the pair of carjackers for any amount of time -- not to mention actually charging them -- they're going to need a little evidence. That means a formal complaint and probably going over the car. While the pair might be moderately freaked out at dealing with some strange super strong telleporter -- not to mention Spider-Man -- Pete wouldn't exactly count on that being enough to make them confess. The offer to answer questions is a little unexpected and that innate curiousity wars with his desire to respect privacy. Given that he can be a little sensitive about it from time to time he can certainly understand how others might be as well. "I might have a few while we eat," Pete conceeds wryly. And he'll do his best to limit it to that. Just how good 'his best' will amount to still remains to be seen of course. But it's the thought that counts, right? Again, he listens to her explain in a little more detail about her specialities in her particular field, those eyelets continuing to somehow convey that quizzical interest, overly expressive for any mere mask. "That doesn't make it any less cool Doc," Spidey points out, a dry note of humor creeping into his words. "I mean, we know aliens exist and live amongst us. And I've seen more then enough to know that magic isn't just in stories, so the fact that you work with that, investigate it, well yeah, they only enhances the cool factor," he notes reasonably. "Do you carry around a whip and a gun? How about having a fear of snakes?" he asks lightly. Resisting the urge to pile on more questions, especially when there is food in the offering, he glances upward towards the rooftops up above. He assumes that heights don't particular bother her. And while the streets are relatively quiet at the moment, he would just as soon avoid any awkward encounters with anyone that might be inclined to immediately call the police and report a Spider-Sighting. "Do you mind if we eat up there?" he asks, gesturing upward.
Kenesha	Laughing softly, Kenesha grins at him, "I would be highly disappointed in you if you didn't. Any good scientist should be absolutely *brimming* with questions by now. Trust me, I understand. And I give permission for you to ask whatever questions you like. This is not 'quid pro quo', you are not under any expectation to provide any additional information about yourself." There's a sort of understanding in her eyes, she gets the need for privacy. Why else use a mask, after all? She's giving him blanket permission to pepper her with all the questions his little science heart could desire. Does she understand what she's done? Nodding, she can't help but smile at his assertions, "Oh, it's *very* cool. It's how I ended up with these," she taps one tall boot against the other, "and this," she pats the satchel lightly. "Most people don't realize, but magical items of sufficient strength and age gain a sort of.. sentience. Not that they're alive, perse, but they have a *will*. Anyone can *take* one of these items, but they'll only *attune* to someone they deem worthy. And attunement is where you really get the most out of a magical item." His first volley of questions has her laughing, "So.. that character is actually based on me and some of MY adventures. But of course, can't have a *woman* being an adventurer and professor.. so they changed it to a man... and added in a lot of wholly untrue romances. Like.. egregious romances." She flashes a grin, "And it amused me to take back the name they decided to give the character. So.. Kenesha became Dr. Kenesha Jones." With the rooftop chosen, Kenesha nods and holds out a hand, "Let's save you a bit of web fluid.." If he takes her hand, she'll teleport them both to the rooftop chosen. Otherwise, she'll simply teleport herself and he can web his way up! Once there, she finds a suitable spot to settle in and motions for him to join her, opening the thermal bag to reverantly remove the large container of lemon chicken soup from the highly regarded Greek restaurant. Still hot. Setting it between them, she pulls out a pair of bowls and spoons from her satchel.. which is odd, since the satchel never bulged or shifted in shape at all. Pouring out soup for them both, she holds one out to Peter and smiles, "Eat up and ask me your questions." A brief pause as she takes her first spoonful, savoring that delicious flavor of good chicken broth tinged with lemon, the couscous little pops of flavor, the shredded chicken still juicy and tender. And Kenesha reaches into her satchel again, pulling out a thin silvery patch and pressing it to his chest just above the spider symbol. It starts to heat the fabric of his suit, nothing egregious, just a cozy warmth that keeps him from getting chilled while they're sitting still. "Obviously, you may want to put that on the inside of the suit to not ruin the look of it, but that will keep you warm in the winter and cool in the summer."
Peter Parker	While Pete certainly has a great fondness for the whole webslinging thing -- so much so that een just swinging around the city has become one of his main ways of just decompressing when everything becomes just a little too much -- what kind of scientist would he be if he turned down new experiences, hmmm? He's already gotten a taste of some of her abilities, he watched the sudden swap that happened in the car so he has a fairly good notion of just what's coming. So the long and short of it is that Spidey waits just a moment before taking her offered hand, darting a quick glance about the street around him... ...and very abruptly finding his perspective profoundly changed as they end up a hundred or so feet straight up and just a few feet displaced from where they were on the street below. "Woah, sweet," Pete exclaims, turning back to the ledge behind him, peering over it as if to verify that they are indeed on that same building he gestured to, the street quiet enough below to not even notice their sudden departure. "That's gotta come in handy sometimes," he enthuses. "Don't get me wrong, swinging around the city is the best. The wind rushing past, the acceleration, the shifts, the tug of gravity -- can't be beat. But the teleportation thing has gotta be a pretty sweet ride too. Not to mention a time saver," he admits, words flowing from him in a steady rush, a sure sign of that excitement given that the mask does a good job of concealing his expressions. Aside from those oddly expressive eyelets of course. "How far can you go in one jump? Do you need to know where you're going, see it? And how fast does it trigger? Like do you just have to think about where you want to be and poof, you're there? Or does it depend on distance, or how well you know..." he runs on before abruptly breaking off. "Sorry, sorry. I suppose it would be good if I let you answer one question before I hit you with the next dozen," he admits, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly once more. The explanation about the magic of the satchel gets a nod from him. He might not know a whole lot about magic, but hey he's played Dungeons and Dragons of course. Attuning objects makes sense, right? Again the enthusiasm starts to sneak into his voice at the mention of that famous movie archaeologist -- and the fact that she's the basis for him. "Huh. That's cool, though I guess it came out a few decades too early if they weren't gonna do the whole gender-swap thing," he conceeds. Not a whole lot of female action heroes in the 80s. Taking the offered bowl, he inhales the aroma of that soup deeply for a moment before rolling up the bottom half of his mask, enough so that he can, you know, eat. Apparently anyone that feeds him gets a fair amount of leeway because he doesn't even blink when she presses that silvery patch to his suit, heat flooding through him rather quickly. "Woah, nice. Thanks! It definitely gets a little chilly out here during the winter," he admits, smile briefly visible. Then he's gobbling down that soup like he's afraid it might disappear, occasionally lifting his gaze back towards her. "So the old timey clothes aren't just an affectation then, are they? You're older then you look, if you're inspiring forty-year old movie characters..."
Kenesha	Watching Peter as he enjoys his first teleportation experience, Kenesha just chuckles as she watches him and prepares the food. The first time is always the best, of course. And the barrage of questions just has her chuckling in understanding. Watching him wolf down the soup, she nudges the container towards him, "I don't actually *need* to eat right now, I just do so for the sheer enjoyment of the great soup. You should have that." Then she addresses his questions, "First, the teleportation isn't from me. These are Seven League Boots. They allow me to move at ridiculously fast speeds, to move across pretty much any and every substance, even impossible ones. I can actually run across a rainbow or hop clouds if I feel like it. And it grants teleportation. The only real limits to the teleportation seem to be that it's bound to Earth, so no teleporting to the Starport or other planets or dimensions... and I need to have an idea of where I'm going. That can be from having been there before, having seen it, or even a picture of it, or having someone along that knows exactly where we're going. And yes, it triggers with thought and will. The teleportation is largely instantaneous." Kenesha smiles at him before taking another bite of her soup. Shaking her head, she chuckles, "You're curious, that's good. Ask away. I can keep track of the questions and answer them in the order they were asked." Patting the satchel, she offers, "This is the Tesseract Tote. Think of it like a Bag of Holding, but without the limitations of the item needing to be able to fit through the opening. This one doesn't obey ANY laws of physics. Also doesn't seem to have a space or weight limit." She lifts a small shrug, then smiles, "It's a thing. I flew in the wars, but after, I went on a one-woman rampage against all the magic items and alien artifacts the Nazis had smuggled across the globe. Found a lot of it, still looking for some. Got beaten to the punch on a few items. But yeah, most of the Indiana Jones stories were based on my adventures after World War 2." Nodding, Kenesha flashes a quick smile, "You're welcome. That suit is nice, but it could definitely stand a few upgrades. I wouldn't go overboard, your own abilities are more than capable, but simple things.. the heating and cooling, maybe water and fire proofing, some filtration for the mask.. do you have a HUD in those lenses? Could probably also go with a really lightweight kevlar weave, provide you with a bit of protection from incoming blows. Won't stop a rifle, but most handguns, shotguns... good stabbing protection, too. Anyways, just, quality of life upgrades, really." She lifts a shrug and smiles across at him. "Ahhhhhhhh, I wondered if you would ask about that. No, they aren't an affectation. I enjoy the styles from the 40s and 50s. And yes, I'm very much older than I look. Point in fact, I am biologically immortal. And, well.. just mostly immortal. I *can* be killed, but it takes a lot to get the job done."
Peter Parker	Settling himself on the ledge of the rooftop in a crouch, Spidey clutches the bowl in one hand, spooning the hot, savory soup into his mouth with the other and for a moment that flow of questions ceases. Though it might be debatable whether it is a matter that he was just raised a little too well to try and talk with his mouth full, or if he is just digesting some of the information that she's laying out for him. There is a whole heck of a lot to take in afterall. And he has shown that he has something of a brain on him, even if his breadth of experience can't quite compare to her own. Then again, how many people's can? He is not, however, too proud to take seconds of the soup however though does have the good grace to look a little sheepish about it, pouring out another bowl full before nudging the container back in her direction. "Good food should be shared," he counters with a brief smile. Though that doesn't mean he won't take the lion's share it seems. He again falls silent, though clearly musing now over her explanations around the boots and satchel, the sheer pace of soup consumption evening out considerably. That hunger might be coming close to being sated. Or it could just be the spreading warmth from that high tech heating patch -- the warmth not just seeming to be limited to the strict vicinity of it, but spreading throughout his suit. "I'm assuming they're both magic then? Because yeah, most tech I've run into, even the really advanced stuff that even Stark, or Richards or Luthor might beyond them, even that stuff generally at least obeys the laws of physics." Magic though, that seems like it might be a whole other ballgame. Which makes it cool, to be sure. But a little bit worrisome too. "You should have seen my first one," Pete quips wryly. Suffice to say, the hoodie was not really all that impressive. But hey, he was fifteen and even less flush with resources then he is today. Which is really saying something. "I mean, at least I sewed it myself. You might be amazed at just how important being good with a needle comes into play in this line of work," he says drily before pausing and tilting his head once more. "Then again, maybe you wouldn't," he conceeds wryly. "So you're an archaeologist with an advanced working understanding of science and a thing for technology? Is there anything you can't do?" he sks with a little grin, setting the bowl down beside him for a moment. "No HUD. The articulation of the lenses was about all I could afford, but it seemed a little less, I don't know? Impressonal? Ominous? If I could have some sort of, you know, expression. Didn't really work out," he conceeds. "And yeah, that sounds cool. I mean, maybe someday." Probably not on a photographer's salary though. The little revelation that she was alive in the Forties and Fifties -- and probably a lot longer then that by the sounds of it -- should come as more of a surprise, but he seems to take it all in stride, just nodding his head, thoughtful once more. "Does it ever get... lonely? Living that long? Or is it just awesome? To have all the time in the world."
Kenesha	Kenesha lets the silence reign for a few minutes, unafraid of it and letting it be companionable rather than awkward. Two people enjoying hot soup on a rooftop. Because you know, some people just lead weird and crazy lives. She's also giving him the time to absorb and process what she's told him already. Kenesha has found, through hard lessons, that people need time to properly process information either in large quantities or when it's esoteric in nature. But he's right, she's in a rather exclusive club that has not a ton of members... at least not in this part of the universe. Smiling at the sheepish look, she shkaes her head at him, "No need to stand on ceremony. You're hungry, I'm guessing the car-jacking had you out past when you would normally call it a night have eaten already. If I'm keeping you out longer, the least I can do is share the food I have. And you need the calories far more than I do." She nudges the container back towards him with a smile. Eat, the smile says! The science behind the patch is fun, and she'll have to explain it to him sometime. But for now, he can simply appreciate that the warmth seems to travel along the entirety of the suit, keeping him from getting chilled. Even the mask feels a bit warmer, though not as warm as the suit. That would likely take another patch for the mask. Separate pieces and all. Nodding, Kenesha smiles, "Correct. Both are magical artifacts that I had to keep out of bad hands... items that chose me to attune to, so I've kept them. I think, in their own way, they enjoy being used and useful. And I like to think that my determination to save them from falling into untrained or evil hands helps." Magic is something she's certainly comfortable with, even if she doesn't have any herself. "I did. I may be old, but I'm still up on technology. Your early days of crime fighting were huge on Youtube. It's definitely an upgrade," Kenesha chuckles softly before shaking her head at him and smiling. "No, I mean... you should let me upgrade your suit. You've been at this for what.. six years? Clearly, this is not just a 'phase' or something that you're doing fo ra lark or for likes and subscribes. Which means you have a *reason* for it. There's a philosophy, or something that drives you. I can appreciate that. So.. I want to help you. I can give your suit a big upgrade. Like I said, it won't be anything crazy, but some basic quality of life upgrades that will make it a little more tolerable." When he mentions sewing, she grins, "Tell you what, if you want, you can even come to my lab and help with the upgrades, and you'll have full creative and design control." She holds out a gloved hand to him, smiling, "Deal?" "Mmmmmmmm... yes. There are also things that I could do, but I don't. As for things I can't do.. I lack your wit. The quips, the puns, the gags... you have a way of just.. letting it all flow out, without even seeming to have to put any effort into it. I'm afraid I lack comedic timing." She grins at him. It seems a small thing, but its clearly something she wishes she were better at. "No, I like the articulation, and we can keep that, but you should really have a HUD in there, too. It can track things like.. the amount of web fluid left in your shooters. It can gauge distances for you to make the calculations a little easier for catching someone. If it connects to the right networks, it can even provide you with information on your targets." Kenesha sets aside her bowl, leaning over her knees with her arms looped around her legs just beneath them, "I'm saying, I can help.. sponsor you. Get you started right. A late start, to be sure, but better late than never, right? We can do some upgrades to your suit, I can even provide you with a laboratory space if you want, so you can work on your projects with proper equipment and funds." She lifts a shrug and offers a lopsided grin, "And whatever you make is yours. I'm not looking to put a claim on anything. I just.. think you have so much potential t
Kenesha	Kenesha sets aside her bowl, leaning over her knees with her arms looped around her legs just beneath them, "I'm saying, I can help.. sponsor you. Get you started right. A late start, to be sure, but better late than never, right? We can do some upgrades to your suit, I can even provide you with a laboratory space if you want, so you can work on your projects with proper equipment and funds." She lifts a shrug and offers a lopsided grin, "And whatever you make is yours. I'm not looking to put a claim on anything. I just.. think you have so much potential that's going untapped right now. You're doing amazing things with scraps and spare change... let me help you up your game." The question has her pausing, then clearing her throat and offering a wry smile, "Yes. It gets lonely. It gets.. very lonely. There are others, and I'm grateful to not be the only one.. but.. it's sort of like being Q. Did you ever watch Voyager? I know, probably before your time but.. there was one... season 2, episode 18. It was called Death Wish. Voyager unwittingly released a condemned Q from his prison, and he tried to claim asylum on Voyager when the John De Lancie Q showed up. And they took Captain Janeway to the Q Continuum to show her what life as a Q was like. And it was just this dusty road with a small house next to it and like, three other Q there. And it was just so.. sad. They'd lived so long, done so much.. that they'd even stopped talking to each others, because 'everything had already been said'." She lifts a shrug and offers a wry smile, "It's a little like that, except, I get to live among the humans. So it's almost more like a hotel... I see a lot of people come and go, sometimes regularly, sometimes only once.. but to me its.. so brief. 40 or 50 years is just.. a drop in the bucket. Some of the species that like to hang out here, though.. some of them live quite a bit longer. So that's been really nice. Asgardians are good. They tend to live roughly 5000 years or so.. give or take a few centuries. That's a decent chunk of time."
Peter Parker	For all that he can be pretty chatty and sometimes just downright stream of consciousness, saying anything and everything that comes to mind, it would seem that Spidey doesn't much feel the need to fill in those silences either. A little quiet doesn't have to be awkward afterall. Sometimes it just means that there is something to think about. And while he occasionally puts aside that part of him when the mask goes on, Peter Parker at least knows something of the value of thought, even if he gets a little more 'leap before he looks' once he dons his Spider-Man persona. While no longer starved in any respect -- the savory soup did a lot to take care of that particular hunger -- he's not going to stand too much on ceremony either. He's satisfied the requirements of politeness. Aunt May would have no complaints about his behavior. So when she nudges that soup right back he just casts a wry smile her way and pours out the remainder into his bowl. She's probably right afterall. He probably needs it more then her, and she would be in a much better position to judge either way. Who is he to argue? Especially when free food is on the offering. "Strange to think of items, things, as having preferences, but I get it. I admittedly don't know you that well yet, but all things considered I'm definitely more comfortable with the idea of you have objects of power like that then most people I've met. Particularly while wearing this costume," Pete conceeds before his tone turns wry once more. "Of course, the helping me with the carjackers and the giving me delicious soup probably has a little bit to do with it, so my opinion might be a wee bit biased at the moment," he admits, holding up a gloved thumb and finger and holding them just a little ways a part from each other. "Just a smidge." It's not that no one has ever offered help before. He has even made his fair share of allies over the years. And while a degree of caution is something he has come to embrace to protect the people he cares about most, he's also learned a little better then to try and do everything on his own. He might be committed to making up for past, tragic mistakes, but that doesn't mean that he has to do it on his own. Still, Pete tilts his head once more as he finishes up that soup at last, studying her before extending his own hand to take hers, shaking it firmly. "I think that sounds pretty darned generous," he admits. "I'd be lying if I said that I couldn't imagine a few upgrades that might make things a little easier, a little better. "Man I'm going to owe you big time," he says wryly, shaking his head slowly. Even if there are no strings attached, it's just kinda the way he was raised. "But yeah, if you have lab space, I definitely wouldn't mind poking around sometime," he freely admits. ESU is great and all, the little setup he has in the basement of his Aunt's home in Queen's sees him through. But this sounds like it has a little more potential. And of course the immortal archaeologist would have something like that!" Again a wry grin slides over his face at the mention of Voyager. "Maybe just a bit before," he conceeds. Technically it was off the air before he was born, but if forty or fifty years is a blink of an eye for her, why quibble, right? "But I'm kinda a fan of science fiction, classic or otherwise so I think I remember the episode you're talking about," he agrees. Thank you, Streaming. Back when he still had the time to binge-watch old television shows. It's a little trickier these days in making time for that sort of thing. His tone grows thoughtful once more and he dips his head. "But yeah, it's good that there are a few others out there that have a lifespan like you," he says before the corners of his mouth quirk upwards once more, "And of course that you have us fumbling, child-like humans to amuse you," he adds slyly.
Kenesha	Smiling when he takes the rest of the soup, Kenesha gives a small nod of appreciation and reclaims her bowl to dig back into her own. Enjoying that lemony chicken goodness. There really is no substitute for it. Regular chicken noodle just can't compare. Not that it's bad, it's just.. not the same. And he absolutely needs it more than she does. Not that she's dropped that particular bomb yet either. "Mmmmmm, I like to think that I'm doing good work. If an item comes into contact with someone else and attunes to them, I'm happy to let them keep it. At least, if they know what they're doing. If not, training first, THEN they can keep it. Sometimes the items just pick the people." She laughs softly and lifts a shrug, "I've been part of far too many wars to ever *want* to be in one. Carjackers and chicken soup are definitely more my preference. Occasionally evil, trapped metas that are guarding ancient objects of power. Or supernatural creatures guarding the same. Even then, it's more about putting them into stasis or just.. temporarily out of commission to get the object away from them. Be amazed how many beings aren't evil themselves, they're just being influenced by an evil artifact or something." Shaking her head, she takes another bite of soup. THe amount of wealth that can be hoarded over her lifespan, even just here on Earth, is enough to make most of the world's richest weep. Especially when you've been in a position to take advantage of every stock market boom since the inception of it. Not to mention the amount amassed across different portfolios of properties, bonds, CD's, IRA's, and more. It's nice to be able to spend some of that on someone that really deserves it. Besides, it's not like she's offering to completely take care of him and his aunt, she's just.. giving him a hand where he really needs it. Shaking his hand in return, she grins, "Excellent. I have multiple lab spaces around the globe, but I think we'll set you up with your very own lab space that you can have all to yourself. You're still welcome to check out mine, of course, especially since I want to upgrade that suit before a lab would be finished getting set up. But you should have your own space. Lab, kitchenette, bedroom, bathroom. Essentials. That way you can focus on what you're doing." The mention of owing her big time has her grinning, "Just keep doing what you do, Spider-Man. Be exceptional. It's who you are." Laughing lightly, she gives a nod, "I didn't want to make assumptions about your age. You sound on the younger side, but voices don't always tell the truth of a person's age. But good. Yes. It's.. not always great, but it isn't all bad, either. I've gotten to meet some of the best figures in history. And some of the worst. But usually that was just to punch them in the face and go about my business. Bad guys suck." "It is. And you hush. I love humanity. You guys are this great evolutionary miracle, and no matter what gets thrown at you, you just get right back up and keep on going. The ingenuity and determination of the human race isn't something any species should take lightly." Kenesha smiles at him, "Even if you do have the lifespan of a mayfly. But hey, that's part of what drives you so much, I think. You know you only have so much time, so you push boundaries and knock down walls. It's great to see." Pausing, she sends him a sly grin of her own, "Okay. So. Now that you've agreed to the funding... want to see the spaceship and take a ride to go check out the lab?"
Peter Parker	The soup is finished off with some alacrity and the costumed wall-crawler hops down from his perch up on that ledge, pacing about the rooftop with new energy, no doubt warmed up from that savory suit. And the little device that spills heat through his costume as well. It definitely makes sitting about in the cold much more enjoyable. "Seems fair. Finders keepers and all, at least so long as someone isn't going to go about making a mess in the sandbox for everyone else to clean up," Pete agrees easily. He's not exactly likely to ever have to worry about dealing with magical artifacts or the like, though the possibility -- considering just how he spends so much of his time -- isn't exactly zero either. But he's more then content to leave those kind of troubles to the experts. He already has more then enough on his plate just trying to be a friendly neighborhood Spider-Man. The possibility of lab space, of a chance to work with some advanced technology and maybe apply some of it to his own suit is definitely a tempting one. Just his web formula is already pretty wonderous, considering it's relatively cheap cost versus the amazing tensile strength that it has. But he definitely has a few limitations when it comes to the financial side of things, limits on just how far that he can take things, and while there have been those like Ted Kord who have helped out in the past, it is pretty difficult to look past an offer of assistance like this. And while Peter can be a little wary about such things, he does have a certain advantage. While hardly foolproof, especially when it comes to dangers not physical, that little tingle of his spider-sense in the back of his head tends to alert him to threats, at least of the immediate variety. For good or ill, he has come to rely on it fairly heavily. So far it has served him pretty well. "You have a lot of faith, considering all the bad press," Spidey offers up wryly. Though she's hardly the only one. More then a few people don't take the word of the Bugle and it's... crusty editor when it comes to judging him. Which is definitely a good thing for Peter or he would have bigger problems then he already does. Does he want to ride in a spaceship? What sort of question is that? Of course he wants to ride in a spaceship! Not that Pete is completely blind to the potential pitfalls of course. "That sounds... pretty amazing actually," he freely admits, grin on his face, though he does roll that mask back down concealing it once more a moment later. Then he pauses for just a moment. "The lab's not in space, is it? Because that might cause me some commuting problems," he conceeds. His webs are super handy, but they do come with a *few* limitations. Not to mention the need to breath. That's pretty important too. "And is it reasonably close? I kinda got class in the morning," he adds, a sheepish note creeping back into his voice.
Kenesha	Chuckling at his pacing, she finishes her own soup, taking the disposable bowls and silverware and tucking them into the plastic to go bag with the empty soup container. That bag goes into the thermal bag and that goes into the satchel. Pushing up to her feet, she tucks her hands into the pockets of her bomber jacket. "That's the idea. To keep hold of the items so messes DON'T get made. You do NOT want to know how many heroes and villains are who they are because they got possessed by some magical something or other that they stumbled across." Kenesha shakes her head with a small sigh and murmurs, "No matter *how* often you tell people 'do not touch the shiny things no matter how cool it looks'... what do they do? Touch it. Open it. Wear it. Then bam, possession." She glances up and offers a rueful smile, "Lets just say I've learned to make sure I'm the first on the scene." Kenesha falls quiet while he paces and considers her offer, smiling slightly at watching the young man walking back and forth rapidly, the lower half of his mask still rolled up so she can see his breath steaming. Waiting for him to come to a decision, though she's fairly certain he'll accept. Which will be good for her, too! She has so many hideyholes and labs and stuff squirreled away all over the globe, they should be getting SOME use. And his Peter Tingle will be blessedly silent around Kenesha, she has nothing devious or heinous in mind, isn't trying to harm or capture him, and her intensions are as clear as a freshly cut pane of glass. He's in no danger from her. Except over-excitement, perhaps. Lifting a brow at him, she laughs lightly and shakes her head, "I don't pay attention to the press. Everything these days is distorted and blown out of proportion and taken out of context, all in the name of numbers. Ratings, subscribers, money. I prefer to hear from people. Then I can look at them, glean clues of their leanings through their tone of voice, their expressions." She flashes a brief smile, "I would say more you're taking the leap of faith." But she IS offering hima lab, AND a ride in a spaceship! It's understandable. Chuckling again at his questions, she gives a small shake of her head, "No, it's not in space. And it will always be reasonably close to you. I will explain that further in a moment." Glancing up, she smiles as part of her ship reveals itself, the hull sleek and looking almost alive. Looking back to Peter, she grins, "Ramp's about to drop, you might want to come over this way." And sure enough, unfurling almost like a tongue (albeit metallic and very ramplike), a ramp descends to allow them entry to the ship. Kenesha boards without hesitation. Will Peter?
Peter Parker	"I gotta be honest, I would probably disregard the advice not to pick up the cool, shiny thing too. And I've been doing this long enough to know better!" Peter points out, that restless energy of youth keeping him in motion on the rooftop. He can sit still when he has too -- maybe -- but he is definitely a little energized at the moment. "Though I'll do my best to resist the temptation should I ever come across anything that might be a magically possessed object," he allows. He does not, however, promise that he will succeed. He tries to avoid making promises he can't keep. On the whole, Peter has a reasonable amount of respect for journalists, despite some of his less than thrilling experiences. Even Jameson has some credibility for the young man -- at least when he is dealing with any subject that doesn't involve Spider-Man. He has broken his share of important stories in his day, has used his pulpit well at times. Just not necessarily when it comes to Spidey of course. Though, if he's honest, Pete is well aware that he has to take at least a small amount of the blame on that front. He feeds the beast afterall, providing that constant flow of pictures for his own personal nemesis. Being a freelance photographer might not exactly pay well, but it is relatively easy money. He might not like being rundown in the press, but he is part of the problem. "Well, I appreciate it at least. And we can both be taking a little bit of a leap. If you gotta jump, better to have someone with you, right?" Which might not actually follow, but the sentiment is in the right place. When the ship suddenly reveals itself, those overly expressive eyes on his mask widen slightly, and Spidey hastens to move out of the way when the ramp lowers. To him it fortunately doesn't trigger thoughts of a gaping maw or a metallic tongue -- he might not be able to willing step into a spacecraft that looked like it was about to eat him, no matter just how acute his curiousity might be. Instead the young man simply takes it in. "Woah. Sweet," he says quietly. Then he gives a small shake of his head and follows her up the ramp without hesitation. How could he do otherwise?
Kenesha	Tsking softly at him, she smiles faintly, "It's always the scientists. That curiosity just cannot take a back seat to the self-preservation and logic." Not that she seems terribly surprised, or even upset. More just an acknowledgement that people of a scientific mind tend to have an overabundance of curiosity." Her hands clear her pockets only to settle lightly on her hips as she smiles at him, "I certainly hope so. And don't begrudge me if I appear to stop you from touching the magically dangerous item." Because she recognizes that she can't actually keep them from trying, she can only try to keep them from succeeding in activating the dangerous magical objects. Kenesha can respect journalists, REAL journalists, but as society changes, as the political and socio-economic climate changes... the press changes too. There's less emphasis on verified facts, more on buzzwords, clickbait, and drama. Reality tv is very popular for a reason, despite everyone knowing that it's scripted. Kenesha can't say she's part of the problem, but she recognizes that there isn't a viable solution yet either. People would have to undergo radical, widespread change as a society for that to occur. And they just aren't quite there yet. But that's okay, they'll get here. Eventually. CHuckling, she gives a small nod, "True, though I'm not sure that actually tracks. Thankfully, we can both avoid hitting the ground." Smiling as she watches his reaction to the ship, when he boards, the ramp will roll up after him before blending seamlessly into the floor of the ship. The whole thing is impressive, really. While it's absolutely a ship, there are parts of it that still look almost alive. A seamless sort of fluid mixture of biology and highly advanced engineering has lead to a unique style of ship. All around him, walls are an opaque crystalline with circuitry that runs almost like veins through it, metallic plating integrating seamlessly into it to provide armoring and add to the hull's integrity. The doors open like portals, spiralling out from what was a solid wall, allowing passage before closing again. She shows him the small cargo bay (where they entered), from there a curving and rising hallway that holds a medical bay/laboratory that looks (literally) out of this world. There are clear pods set in one wall that are meant to hold crew and passengers, the equipment is futuristic and very high tech, made with metals not found on Earth. Screens and displays are a mixture of clear crystal and holographic models that allow for 3-D rendering. And everything is in a language that he's never seen before. "That reminds me, I need to teach you Kheran... it's easier than trying to translate everything to English. Since we're already in the lab, we can do it now and that way you don't have to worry about it." Kenesha smiles at Peter, "Ready to learn a new language in a matter of moments?"
Peter Parker	There is certainly a reason why curiousity killed the cat. A good thing that satisfaction brought it back. Certainly Peter has been on both ends of the spectrum, poking into things that he really, probably shouldn't have. And yet he tends to come through it -- mostly -- unscathed. Some of that is skill and all the gifts he has at his disposal. Some of it might be a little bit of timely luck. Because he might feel like he tends to be profoundly unlucky -- at least when it comes to his life as Peter Parker -- it does tend to come through for him when it really counts. And all things considered it is probably a fair trade off to have a propensity for bad or interrupted dates and school work interrupted if it means that when the chips are down and his life is on the line, things are going to work out far more often then not. Still, it would be nice if his luck were to bleed over from his costumed identity to his regular one just a little more often. Stepping into the space craft is pretty much just as cool as Pete always imagined it would and it is a little difficult to stiffle all the immediate questions that leap to mind. The strange lines, the strange materials that make up the ship all provoking a cavalcade of questions. But in the interest of actually accomplishing, Pete suppresses some of that cat-like curiousity for the moment. Afterall, it seems like there will be plenty of chances to inquire further, to try and fathom out more of the secrets of this craft. Whether the only thing really is techno-organic or if that is just a design choice. Just what is this craft made out? What powers it? Yeah, Pete is definitely biting his lips under the mask. The subject of learning a new language in only moments though is a little more immediate. And since it is next on the agenda, he unleashes all that scientific interest on that process instead, focusing his attention there. "It's not going to hurt or anything, right? Or feel strange? I mean, I'd have to imagine you feel something, just suddenly having your brain flooded with a new skill like that? Or is it just really like a sudden realization, one second you can't speak another language and then the next you can, with no real noticable boundary between the two moments? And can the process be used to transmit other skills and knowledge or is it more focused on the language centers of the brain?" Pete asks, unleashing all that curiousity all at once. He does manage to cut of the stream of consciousness questioning though after a moment, once more raising a hand to the back of his head and rubbing absently there. "Or I guess maybe I could just let you show me instead of asking a million questions, huh?"
Kenesha	Kenesha has seen people like Peter before. People whose personal lives are an utter trainwreck, but that manage to be the most amazing heroes.. powers or not. It's a choice, after all. Yes, luck is certainly part of it. But it's also the choices they make. The refusal to just lie down and let the bad guy win. To fight no matter what it takes (and it often takes a lot). It's one of the few traits in her mother that she admires. That stubborn refusal to lose. Though in Peter's case it comes from more altruistic palces. But she certainly understands the difficulty in achieving a personal life when one's other life continues to get in the way. It's a lose-lose proposition, really. Either you stick with someone that's utterly normal and has no idea about all the insanity that you get up to, someone that will require protecting but who will also have to have the patience of a saint to deal with your idiosyncrasies. Or you try to pick from the pool of other heroes like yourself, with all the traps and pitfalls that creates. And then of course, there's the old standby of falling for your enemy. That's always a fun one. The questions he holds back *can* be answered, and will, when he asks them. Though at the moment, there's a more pressing question that he should be answering.. and the accompanying questions he can't help but ask in the process. Kenesha chuckles and smiles him, motioning him to join her over at one of the workbenches. She calls up a screen and starts tapping out on the crystalline 'pad' while scanning the holographic display.. and humming. She has a lovely singing voice, and with his hearing, he can even hear the notes that dip above or below normal human ranges. After a moment, a small disc slides out from a panel that hadn't been there a moment before, and that disappears once it closes. It looks like a a Jell-O disc, albeit clear, and roughly the size of the pad of her thumb. "It won't hurt, and you won't be overloaded by it, either. My people long ago concluded that when it came to meeting new races, it was vastly better to simply learn their language than bother with so-called 'universal translators'. So. We created a way to store knowledge into molecules that could then be consumed or injected to get an instant 'download' of whatever was needed. For your sake, I've put it into this disc. Simply eat it and the knowledge will be absorbed with the molecule." She smiles at him, "And yes, it will be more like... remembering something that you never knew rather than suddenly getting a jolt of data hitting your stream of consciousness." Holding the disc out to him, she adds, "And yes, we can do far, far more with it than just learn langauges."
Peter Parker	Ahhhh, the joys of trying to balance a social life with a costumed one. There are only a handful that ever really make it look somewhat easy, and no doubt even they have their fair share of problems no matter how things might look from the outside. What doesn't kill you makes you stronger, right? Or something. That hasn't necessarily been Pete's experience -- not entirely at least. But it helps to keep in the back of his head when something feels like it really is going to suck. Besides, there are compenstations to all that hardship too. Like running into immortals from other races who have advanced labs and tech and spaceships that they're will to share. It seems... unlikely that mild mannered college student Peter Parker would have had that chance. So that's something, right? Tailing her through the ship, only falling a few paces behind as he continually pauses to gawk at one thing or another -- and never long enough to really hold her up -- Pete follows her over to the workbench in question as she peers at the screen and taps away at the unique controls. And while he might not really understand the interface -- not yet at least -- the masked hero peers and watches her closely anyway, curiousity more then enough to keep him intrigued even if understanding might be a tougher nut to crack. At least until he gets that instantaneous language lesson at any rate. As that little disc is created -- presumably with everything he needs to learn her language nearly instantaneously, he eyes it with interest. It certainly looks innocuous enough, though not necessarily appetizing. "I don't suppose they come in little colorful shapes that look like gummy bears, do they? Or Flintstones chewable vitamins?" he suggests before plucking that small disc from her, rolling up the bottom half of his mask once more. His Spider Sense doesn't go crazy or anything at the thought of popping it in his mouth, which is hopeful and he assumes that it would probably at least give a faint buzz if there was a risk. Then again, maybe it doesn't think the possibility of him spontaneously generating a few extra pairs of limbs, hundreds of more eyes or some mandibles is so much a danger as it is a perk. "Okay, here goes nothing," Pete mutters, popping that disc into his mouth and swallowing it down.
Kenesha	Laughing at his quips, she shakes her head, "Sorry. While my people can absolutely be decadent, this is a scouting ship, so meant for more militaristic purposes. Which means I have a better medbay and lab... but also means it's geared for effectiveness, not taste." She quirks a faint smile, "But I'll see what I can do to add to the program, maybe get at least a little flavor into it." Then he's swallowing the disc, and she watches him for a long moment, waiting for it to take effect. Peter won't feel anything, really. The disc is about what unflavored gelatin might taste like, which is to say, very little at all. He might even begin to wonder if it didn't work at all. There's really just nothing that seems to be happening. And that's when Kenesha moves back to the crystalline panel, tapping at it again while the whole process of converting knowledge to molecule pops up on the holographic screen, complete with diagrams and models rendered in 3-D! And now.. Peter can read it. He may not even realize it at first, his brain simply translating the words for him, as someone who is fully fluent in a second language might expect. But he can read it. He can see the science behind it! She turns from the panel to smile at him, brows lifted, "Pretty neat, huh?" She motions to the holographic rendering of both words and images, then chuckles, "Full, immediate fluency. Like you've always known it. Now, it can't help you with accents, but you can speak, read, and understand Kheran as well as any Kherubim."
Peter Parker	It is a personally reasonable explanation really. Naturally a scout ship would be designed and built to focus on efficency over anything that might be considered more of a luxury. And a little flavor in one's instant language translator slash skill giver could understandably seem more like a luxury then anything else. Not to mention that everyone's taste differs a little. What might be deliciously tasty to one might be disgustingly gross to someone else. So why complicate things? Just leave it tasteless and most anyone can make use of the device without any real issue. While Pete might not be able to sense anything, to feel anything different as he swallows down that little tab, there is a part of him that just can't help himself. Look, this is all incredible generous. It could, in some respects, quite literally change his life. But there's just a little part of him that can't control himself, especially once the costume goes on. The part of him that feels the need to poke fun at just about everyone -- his friends, his enemies and even himself. So while he might not actually feel anything different, after a few seconds Pete suddenly doubles over and gasps aloud, sinking to his knees and clawing at his throat. "Aaaaargh, gaaaaaaaah, flllmmmmmm!" he gargles out before abruptly flashing a smile and hopping back to his feet. "No, sorry, just kidding. You're right, I don't feel any different," he admits. But as he hops back to his feet and peers past her towards that screen, towards that crystalline control pad, suddenly it isn't all just an indecipherable display of characters and diagrams that don't make a whole lot of sense. He knows it's not actually english, that it isn't all naturally laid out with letters and numbers that he has grown up with. But it might as well be. "But clearly it does work, because I can suddenly read your displays," he admits, taking a couple steps closer to suddenly peer at the understandable flow of information rolling across the screen there. "So cool."
Kenesha	There's a brief moment when he doubles over and gasps, a flash of panic, then he's sinking to his knees and clawing at his throat and making strange noises. Tsk, that scamp! She really should have expected this, he's KNOWN for his wit and humor. Chuckling, she relaxes again and sends him a smile even as he hops to his feet, "You are utterly terrible, Spider-Man. You had me until you starts clawing at your throat. Should have gone for your stomach, or chest. That would have sold it a little longer." Kenesha's not mad, she's giving pointers for next time! "Good, that means it's taking effect." And then he's looking at the display, *reading* it, and she chuckles, giving a nod. "Tadaaaaaaaa. It's... science." Stepping back to let him step forward, she offers, "The crystalline pad is part keyboard part touchpad. You can type or swipe, the display will give you options on what you want to do or what you want to look at. If you spend too long looking at the display, the pad will power down, just swipe or touch it to bring it back up again." Giving him a quick and dirty tutorial on how the computer works. "But for now, we should go up to the cockpit so we can get to the actual lab. It's just a short flight from here, but while I'm driving I won't really be able to answer questions. You'll see why soon. But you're welcome to come back here and tinker around while we're in transit. I'll let you know when we've arrived." Kenesha motions for him to follow her with a smile as she leads the way out of the lab and back along the hall. There's quarters, complete with bathrooms. Spartan but comfy. Then up and around the curve int he all and out onto the main 'deck' of the ship. That crystalline substance clears as Kenesha steps up to a small pad, allowing Peter to see the skyline of New York City from above, and out beyond the river, as well. "Kheran ships are unique in more ways than one. There are no controls, perse, or rather, none that you physically manipulate. Kheran ship operations run on song. Our vocal chords are vastly enhanced from birth, we can create sounds across a diszzying spectrum, and can even harmonize with ourselves. So.. you can see why I won't be able to answer questions while we're in flight. Do you have any before we start off?"
Peter Parker	Look, on the whole Pete is a pretty good guy and he can be reasonably easy to get along with. Provided one has some semblance of a sense of humor. When that mask goes on he might get just a little immature, a little prone to having something of a smart-mouth. To indulging in an excess of banter at times. So it's never a bad thing -- at least in his eyes -- to test the waters a little and make sure anyone he's going to spend a little time with can at least tolerate. Other's view on the matter might differ of course. He is, admittedly, no actor so it doesn't come as any surprise that she sees through his mock performance pretty quickly. But the fact that she takes it in good humor, even offers a few suggestions on what he might want to do if he is ever presented with similar circumstances again is definitely a little reassuring. Flashing a grin as he clambers back up to his feet. "Noted. I'll try changing it up if I ever get another chance," he promises slyly, glancing over the crystalline controls to the screen, nodding his understanding as she explains how it functions. Even more interesting -- at least to him -- is the fact that he might have the chance to play with it some sooner then he could possibly expect. Once more Pete falls in beside her as she leads him through the rest of the ship, peeking into all the nooks and crannies, no matter how seeming insignifcant with that unvarnished enthusiasm. "So you sing to your ship to convince it to fly? That's pretty cool," he admits. "Probably good that you need special vocal chords to make it run, because I gotta be honest, my singing voice is okay. At best. I mean, I can carry a tune. Or at least I think I can, but beyond that..." he says wryly, already peeking ahead to get a glimpse of the piloting and navigation array. "I think I can hold any other questions until we get where we're going," he promises.
Kenesha	Kenesha has been around her fair share of pranksters, punsters, and jokesters. So being able to take things in stride has become something of a second nature. Which comes very much in handy in situations like this! Not that there are many situations like this, but still. It comes in handy! So instead of scolding or berating, she's chuckling and offering him tips on how to draw it out a few more seconds for the next time he tries something similar. It isn't that she's unflappable, oh no, Kenesha very much wears her heart on her sleeve. It's just that it's all tempered with a deep and abiding patience and a good dollop of humor! But then they're moving on up (not to the east side), and she's showing him the 'flight deck'. It's all that same crystalline substance with it's bio-circuitry and organic metal plating that provides for a seamless ship. Kenesha has stepped onto the small pad, causing it to light up briefly under her feet in welcome. There's no array of any sort to see. Just Kenesha, standing on the pad, and the HUD readouts on the viewscreen in front of her. It gives an astounding amount of data on their current location. And she's smiling slightly at him as she offers, "That's alright. Your vocal chords can't replicate the sounds, some of them go well beyong the range of human vocalization, though I imagine with your senses you can still pick them up." Motioning to Peter, Kenesha smiles, "Go ahead and check out the lab more, then. I'll get us underway and let you know when we've arrived." He'll find all sorts of crazy stuff on that computer, too. The knowlecules are just the surface of the technological advancements the Kherans have come up with. Not all of it is helpful or aimed at peaceful coexistence, either. There's a file that's aptly labeled 'Bullshit Kheran Lies' that has records of the history of the Kherubim, with notations where the truth differentiates from what's in the official documents. Kenesha has clearly dug deep into Kheran history and uncovered some pretty nasty truths about her people and their 'benevolence'. There's also multiple cool files about their weaponry, everything from energy weapons to bladed weapons that can supposedly slice an atom in half and withstand the heat of a thousand suns. There's the Spartan Guard, semi-sentient AI driven biobots that are used as the ultimate shock troops by the Kherans during invasions. Those guys are *scary*. There's specs for every conceivable type of Kheran ship. On the medical side, he can find files dedicated to explaining how a person's mind, their personality, their SELF.. can be downloaded and stored on crystals, dovetailing onto another file detailing how to use genetic samples of a being to *recreate their body* so the self can be downloaded back into the form, in case of severe, life-threatening injury. Not only are they immortal and durable as Hell.. they can literally store the entirety of a person on a crystal, rebuild their body, then re-integrate the person into the body!