Owner	Pose
Peter Parker	Saturday night. The sandy shore of Hudson Bay. "Come along, Peter, stop dawdling." "Aunt" May Parker is walking briskly along the shoreline, making the best of a bad situation. They had been visiting with her friend Ophelia in Gotham City. Peter had stepped out to take care of a couple of things to let them talk. When he came back a couple of hours later, he was limping slightly; he told May he'd tripped on the sidewalk. The limp HAD improved slightly, but Peter was still lagging behind a little. The bus had broken down on the way back. May wasn't going to wait for another bus, so called for an Uber. Who promptly told her he did pick up in that area, and asked to meet about 500 yards down the road, near the tollway. So, May had forged ahead, and Peter followed. It was brisk and cold, but the breeze carried the smell of seawater. It was rather nice, really. It evoked happier times, when she and Benjy were younger. She paused in the grassy area about 20 feet from the water's edge and waited for Peter to catch up. Just a quiet night on the edge of the city.
Arthur Curry	The scent of seawater drifted gently, carried on it that hint of the storm that might well rest off shore for many hours to come. A touch of the Winter's edge might well be there in the breeze but assuredly there in the mist that hazes over the water.     Usually it was enough of a cover during this time of the evening to let some drift upon the low tide and easy waves, quiet enough to make that landfall with the acoustics just so that sound doesn't carry. And traffic? Barely anything that pauses or lingers. At the most there's the bus line that rolls on past, but beyond that? So little.     Though tonight that doesn't seem to be the case.     A team of four men in insulated suits had set their inflatable landing craft into the line of reeds and detritus around the curve of the coast. A sweep of the surroundings had garnered the clear to make that infil, only for once they reached the landing point two blips showed up some distance away toward the road and the curve of it that's nearest the shore. Two blips that were in line of sight where the second party to their meet were supposed to be.     Words on comms were likely shared, a gesture was made toward the pair. And one operative broke away to head in May's direction. Not obviously armed, though on his back was a weapon hidden from direct view. The thermal suit definitely did seem out of place. And when he moved into position there was no direct threat. But the potential was there for those that might well sense something untoward.
Peter Parker	"Just some old lady and a college kid." He may not wear the suit, but the Spider-Sense was always on, and it was telling him that someone was coming at them, and they were armed. He was about to speak when Aunt May called out, "Hey! You there...!" The man stepped forward, and he was wearing some kind of wetsuit, but it looked a little bulkier than a wetsuit. "Who in the world are YOU?" The man smiled pleasantly, but it did not reach his eyes. "...Polar Bear Club, ma'am." Aunt May looked at him. "My great-aunt's HAT. You're no cold-water diver." "Aunt May..." Peter said uncertainly. Great. Two potential witnesses. "Let me show you my ID..." he said pleasantly, reaching to the small of his back. The little semi-auto .380 whipped out... And then the man caught an actual key lime pie right in the face. Guess they didn't have banana cream. He wiped at his face and then was hit by a punch that had no business being so powerful, and his head snapped to the side, spraying bits of pie everywhere. A second later, he was down. Peter looked to Aunt May, then to the pistol. "You'd better get to the road, call 911." Aunt May nodded. "Benjy would be proud of you for that right cross." "Cheers later, cops NOW..." May nodded and headed up the slope to the road nearby.
Arthur Curry	That wasn't normally how things played out for Mackenzie. The man was a pro. Or at least as much of a pro as was needed for the meet and greets between crews. This... this wasn't in his wheelhouse. But a lil brandish and terrify and torment wasn't too much of an ask for him.     And then suddenly as he's going for his weapon the woman gets all sharp and uppity and then there's...     The /hell/ is that! It tastes... well delicious but...     /WHACK!/ and he was down. Comms suddenly going quiet and picking up at most some scrape and scratching of footsteps around him. Which some distance away down the shore and in that defilade, the trio of operatives scowl and one comments.     "The hell?"     "Alright, screw this, waste them, toss their bodies."     Their weapons are drawn, rounds chambered, slides working. The moonlight was enough to see as they got their weapons ready. One turned and started to make the way out only to realize...     The moon was missing?     And what was that sound, like a rushing whisking heavy sound of cars rolling through water?     Only for in the next few moments as the gunmen turned to look toward the shore and the water that the water had risen up over to curve across their boat and their crew, rushing onward in a blur of motion with the white cascade just barely seen above them...     And then /crashes/ down around them, heavy in impact and slamming the men in the insulated suits into the ground, the reeds, the sand. Their boat shatters into pieces and deflates almost instantly, their weapons and equipment scattered.     Then when the water rolls back out, it leaves a figure in soaking blue jeans and a black vest standing there looking seriously stern as he steps up the beach into view, looking like some wild-man from the sea.
Peter Parker	Peter had turned. He couldn't go for the mask. Aunt May could see. And those guys with the guns could see. He looked down at the pistol. He looked up again with a slight headshake. No. NEVER. Killing CREATES problems, it doesn't SOLVE them, no matter what the Punisher would say, and... ...and WHERE DID ALL THE WATER COME FROM?! It was like a tidal wave out of NOWHERE. Like the Bay just wanted to reach up and swat the other three, and their boat. Hang on...who the heck... "Uh-oh...Poseidon is coming and he looks TORQUED OFF..." Peter whispers.
Arthur Curry	At a glance the man might indeed look like Poseidon, the water dances around him and flows back into the ocean, the tide... the waves returning to normal. There are bits of seaweed clinging to the man, and his beard is this wild thing. But then again Poseidon might not... be wearing a black t-shirt that proclaims support for a band called KillDozer.     And the rings and leather bracers look definitely more like something a biker would wear. It's not the armor of Atlantis, that's for sure. And he's not the most publicized of the League. But those in the game might know him.     "Hey, where's the fourth one of you?" A brusque and gruff voice is heard as the man strides up and /grabs/ one by the collar to bring him nose to nose with Faux-Poseidon. "And where are your buddies?"     The one grabbed does /not/ look like he's ready or a discussion, though he manages however bleary... to point in Mackenzie's direction. Where he hath been laid low under the wrath of the Lady May.
Peter Parker	Peter was standing over the man, his eyes flicking from Arthur to Mackenzie. Not much to look at. Brown hair, brown eyes, skinny, loose shirt and jeans, tennis shoes. He doesn't advance, but doesn't retreat, either. His face was resolute, slightly hardening the young features, and Arthur had been in enough fights to know by the position the fourth had his clock cleaned. So why did he smell limes in the air?
Arthur Curry	The crew were stirring, starting to move, their gestures a little ragged. One had the wherewithal to reach sloooowly for one of the weapons that had fallen on the wet sand. Just reeaching out as he tried to avoid catching the eye of the tall Half-Atlantean.     "Stay here," The man says sharply, and suddenly there's the crackle of a temperature change shifting toward the freezing. Parts of their clothes suddenly coalescing into ice around their hands, their feet, binding them together while water whisks instantly away from the rest of their body. The suits should protect if they need to stay there for a time, but at least now they're bound.     A few quick steps carry the man across the distance, two to build up a quick stride and then a third as he plants a hand on the road rail and swings over it, landing a good twenty feet closer with a low /thud/ of impact.     For a moment he looks at Peter. Then at May. Then at Pieface. A bushy eyebrow quirks as he says nothing at first. Perhaps still quantifying the situation.     Then he murmurs with a nod, "You folks okay?" Even as he kneels down over the knocked out goon. He touches a finger to the whipped cream, takes a taste, then makes a 'hnh' noise of appraisal. Perhaps even appreciation.
Peter Parker	Key lime pie. Fresh limes, graham-cracker crust. Having to use it was a crime. But in a fight between pie and pistol, pie won. Peter relaxed. The guy looked familiar, but the facial-recognition app was in the mask, and putting that on was more trouble than it's worth. "Uhmmm...we're fine, sir. My aunt's calling the cops from the street. Getting the mile marker we just came up on. Uhm...I hope you are one of the Good Guys." He really did. This guy was BUILT..or was JACKED the better term? He couldn't recall...
Arthur Curry	Across the way he looks over at May, then quirks a look sidelong at Peter. He exhales briefly, a sound that might've been a laugh if he gave it a little more life, a little more effort. Then he pushes himself to his feet with a slight grunt of exertion. Rising to his full considerable height he raises his voice to call out. "Ma'am!"     Then decides it's more polite to be closer so he doesn't have to shout. "You knock that guy out, kid?" He strides across the distance a few paces.     Then he turns to May and asks, "Ma'am? If you could inform the police we have three more that are going to need to be brought in. And that the Justice League is on scene?"     He rounds back and looks to Peter, "Keep an eye on the dude for a sec, alright?"
Peter Parker	Aunt May looks down at Arthur and at Peter. She reads the situation by body language and demeanor - non-hostility, relaxed stances - and nodded. One eyebrow rose at the words "Justice League," but she nodded and continued. Peter looked at Arthur for a long moment. Ever since he had made the acquaintance of Supergirl, he had done a deep dive on the Justice League. There had been little info to go on for some of the members, but he had colected some info. Justice League. Water Control. Peter's eyes go wide. "Ohmigosh...you're...Aquaman?"
Arthur Curry	May seemed to have it well in hand so Arthur turned back around and headed toward the fallen good with the be-limed face. Sidelong he looks at Peter as he walks along with the youth and gives him a nod. Though curiously his nose crinkles and he makes a bit of a face. "That's what the papers call me," He says with a slight smirk.     Then once he's back kneeling at the side of the unconscious thug he takes a moment to /rip/ a length of insulated elastic material from the man's back holster and uses it to secure his hands with a nautical knot of some doing. Then, perhaps because he's a nice guy, he makes sure the guy's mouth is clear so he can breathe alright.     Back to his feet he gives a nod and then /thumps/ Peter on the shoulder. "You can call me, Arthur. Kid." ut then his attention is stolen as he shouts down toward the beach and the other bound men who had started to twist and try and work at their bonds. So he shouts, "Hey! Chill out! Don't make me come down there!"     Back to Peter, "Some smugglers. Bad hombres."
Peter Parker	Peter nods, but is still a little dumbstruck as he watched Arthur work. And...now he wants him to call him Arthur? What's wrong with "Aquaman?" He shrugged after a moment. For a moment, he flashed to the movie SNATCH, and of Bullet-Tooth Tony saying dryly, "You can call me Susan if you like..." "Peter?" Aunt May is walking down the gentle slope, the grass providing some traction. "I told them everything. My word, did they perk up when I told them about the Justice League, and..." She looked at Arthur...actually, she looked UP at Arthur. "Good HEAVENS..." "Aunt May...this is Arthur. Arthur, this is Aunt May. She usually doesn't look all moon-eyed - OW!" The OW, of course, was because she slapped him upside the back of his head.
Arthur Curry	"Ma'am," Arthur greets May with an easy smile, one hand lifting to give a wave. Though he pretends not to notice whatever look is sent his way, and to be fair he looks to the side as if to give some plausible deniability to the statement that he saw no such head smack. Though his half-smirk hidden behind a hand brushing over his beard and that low chuckle might well hint that he did indeed see the thing.     He looks back to them and says, "What are you all doing out here this time of night? Everything alright?" Resting his hands on his hips, he spares a glance up and down the road, half expecting to see a broken down car.
Peter Parker	Peter looks to Aunt May, but she's not much help for a few moments, but he speaks while Aunt May is giving Arthur an appreciative once-over. "Uhm, bus broke down about four hundred yards that way. We were going to meet the Uber driver at the shipping company going in that direction."
Arthur Curry	"Well sh..." Arthur starts to say, then clears his throat, "Sure. I shoulda thought it was something like that." Resting his hands on his hips he gives a nod, "I'm afraid the police are going to likely want you to make a statement." He looks between the two of them.     "Will you mind giving me an idea of what happened?" Arthur takes a step to the side to be equi-distant between the two, "Just take me through it if you would. Been tracking these guys for a while, trying to get to their connections and been having a... devil of a time."     Which has him looking between the two of them as he oh so casually self-censors. Though he does catch Aunt May's glance and gives her a kind half-smile.
Peter Parker	Aunt May looks to Peter, as if waiting for him to answer. Peter takes a deep breath. "I observed the boat arriving on the beach. Four people. We didn't know what their goals were. One of them approached us. He reached for what he said was an ID, but came out with a gun. So...I threw a pie at him." Aunt May sighed. "Ophelia's finest work. She should be comforted that it gave its existence for a good cause."
Arthur Curry	At first Arthur suppresses the laugh. Oh he's nodding and smiling, and for such a severe looking man... that smile just makes him look like a guy that would be great to have a beer with. Just so vibrant and alive. Then he lets go with that deep rumbling laugh and he shakes his head. "Oh man."     Another few laughs, devolving then into chuckling, not too much. But still enough to make the tall man shake his head. He looks at Aunt May as if to see if she was backing Peter's word, which clearly she was, then he looks back at the young man.     "That's a trip, Pete." He pushes a hand through his wild hair and his smile eases into a half-grin. "Quick thinking." He bites his lower lip thoughtfully.     "Well looks like we may be out here for a bit of time. You folks warm?" He starts to walk over to the side of the road. Then, utterly effortlessly, hefts the fallen thug onto one shoulder as if the man were a bag of potatoes. "Can build a fire and warm up if needs be."
Peter Parker	Peter looks to Aunt May...who nods. Peter points to a place beyond the "crime scene" to the right, which Arthur notes is downwind. "That looks best. Little chance of contaminating the evidence." Aunt May chides Peter, but gently. "You watch too much CSI: NY, I think."
Arthur Curry	Toting the thug like he weighed naught at all, Arthur slides one leg over the road rail, then the other and starts to mosey on down toward the beach. His work boots kick up small divots of sand as he goes and then once they're down where those other thugs are he deposits the other bound ones.     Over his shoulder, "Gather up any drift wood you find, bud?" He asks of Peter. "I'll go secure these guys. We'll keep an eye out for the police."     That said he heads on to put his words into actions.
Peter Parker	Aunt May walks over to the spot and settles on a small hillock. Peter is a little more productive, collecting various pieces of driftwood and grouping them by size, using the smaller parts to set the base fire, then using a firestriker to set the fire ablaze. He builds it up as the fire grows. Aunt May opens her large bag and takes out a Thermos, smiling wryly as the fire builds. "Not the normal time of year for a beach party, but it is a nice night for it."
Arthur Curry	"If I may, ma'am." Arthur says as he returns, perhaps not seen at first until his silhouette looms large enough out of the night when he returns and draws near enough. "There's no bad time for a beach party."     Then he smiles sidelong toward Peter, "Just need a big enough bonfire." That said he casually settles onto the sand, dusting off his knees and his hands once he's settled then resting his forearms on his knees, legs raised a bit.     With the way the fire dances it does lend an almost sinister look to Aquaman's features, though his smile steals the edge from them. "So those guys say anything to you? Were here any others when you arrived?"
Peter Parker	Peter spoke up. "No. Whoever they were coming to meet, they didn't show. It was just us on the shore." He paused for a moment. "Uhm, I might know something. If you have any suspect groups you were expecting, are any of them based out of Gotham City?" Aunt May had opened the Thermos and poured a solid coffee mug's worth into the plastic cup, handing it to Arthur. "Irish coffee. With a dollop of Jameson's Irish whiskey."
Arthur Curry	As Peter spoke, the Atlantean nodded and listened to the young man, his eyes distancing and looking a touch thoughtful.     "Not based," Arthur says at first, but his brow quirks. "Though they work out of it now and again..." It's clear he's curious and wanting to follow up that line of questioning as he turns to the side a little.     Of course then his attention is drawn by May offering that cup of coffee. He accepts it and murmurs a quiet thanks, then his smile broadens when she confesses to the secret ingredients. It's enough to get him to chuckle again just before he takes a sip.     Then his brow knits and he takes a contented deep breath as he inhales the vapor. "That's good coffee."     Arthur tilts his head back at her and asks with such a hint of innocence, "Are you single, ma'am?" Though he does spare a small wink that Peter might or might not pick up on. All in good fun of course!
Peter Parker	Peter suddenly looks panicked as May says, "How do you feel about older women, Arthur?" And now Peter looks like a goldfish trying to breathe air, his eyes seemingly as wide as dinner plates. "...AUNT MAY...!" The woman cackled. "Pure as the driven snow, he is. But sadly, I think it is not in the cards for us." She points to Peter, then stage-whispers, "For a month last year, he and Supergirl were dating. But one of her villains sent a bunch of killer clockworks to the house, and they had to part. So, a relationship with such a heroic young man as yourself is not the best of ideas." She looks to Peter. "Breathe, Peter." Peter does a lot of gasping but he stops hyperventilating.
Arthur Curry	Arthur's laugh carries across the beach, almost enough to jostle that cup of coffee. He's too busy shaking his head to keep up too easily with what they're saying back and forth though it does register. "May,"     He says at first.     "If I may call you May." He adds with a hint of formality to his tone, "You seem to be very wise, and have a good head on your shoulders. And you make a mean cuppa." That said he lifts the mug and takes another sip.     But then he tilts his head to the side at Peter and tilts his head, "Dating Supergirl? And villains accosting you guys?" His eyebrows raise, "That's some good luck. And some bad." A beat, then he asks, "Is there somethin' I should know?"
Peter Parker	May holds up a finger. "Yes, Arthur. First, I request that you address me as Peter and my friends do - as 'Aunt May.' I figure since I've provided you coffee from my own private stock - Peter needs another year before he's old enough..." Peter is facepalming so hard he seems on the verge of shoving his face against the back of his skull. "He meets interesting people with his work for the Bugle. And I swear, some of them are stranger than others. Let's see...there was that Chinese vampire.." "She got better, Aunt May," Peter muttered into his palm. "Captains of industry, strange beings, that sort of thing. Now, keep in mind I DID help the Punisher once..." "You've told that story, Aunt May." "Haven't told HIM." She cackled again, looking to Arthur.
Arthur Curry	"Aunt May," But he looks over at Peter and seems to be amused at the youth's reaction to his caregiver. Another sip of coffee hides his expression long enough that when he lowers the cup he looks oh so calm and in control and not at all snickering like he might've been a moment ago.     "Oh I see, that does sound interesting. You folks live in New York then?" Since he knows that of the cities on this seaboard, well New York has more than its fair share of crazies. Even beyond Gotham and Metropolis.     Of course that's the moment when distantly they might not see the vehicles, might not hear them. But what they might be able to see from this angle is the approach of the red and blue lights. It's enough incentive to get the Aquaman to cliiiimb slowly to his feet, careful not to spill the mug as he takes a deep breath then murmurs. "Peter, you want to go tell the cops what happened while your aunt and I share some insight about our storied pasts together? Perhaps growing our friendship?"     Though before the youth can answer or perhaps sputter or blush entirely too much he'll add, "Actually probably better if I do. Since they'll be expecting one of us League weirdos. I'm sorry, Aunt May. Another time?"     And with that he starts to make his way back up to the road. Though there /might/ be a moment where he touches thumb to his ear and extends his pinky to the corner of his lips as he mouths the words 'call me' in passing. Perhaps not /that/ subtly though that Peter might not notice.     And then it's up the hill to the road.
Peter Parker	Aunt May smiles innocently to Peter, who is groaning audibly. "Don't...just don't say it..." "Peter Benjamin Parker, I am MUCH too old for him He'd probably break me in two." "Please...no more..." "Oh, I'm done." Pause. "...then again, age is only a number..." Arthur can clearly hear Peter's groan of pain before the cops arrive...