1965-01-16 - Nice Threads
Summary: Spider-Man spots another arachnid hero commuting to work in an unusual way. Contact is made.
Related: If there are no related logs, put 'None', — please don't leave blank!
Theme Song: None
miguel peter-parker 


Ah, the Big Apple - the big frozen Apple. The wind cuts through the Canyon of Heroes, causing it to become even more chilled in the air. Though outside of the chill, it is a relatively clear day, which is a good day for a patrol. Currently perched on the top of the Federal Express building, Spider-Man is perched on the ledge of the building, next to one of the eagle statues. And apparently carrying on a conversation with it.

"So, Bert, what do you think? Should I try again to break bread with her? I mean, she's really pissed at me."

The eagle, of course, doesn't respond.

"Yeah, I know. Forgiveness should be asked for, not guaranteed, right?"

But he's watching the streets down below, seeing if there's any activity - and to battle the cold, over his normal spidey suit is a knit hat, scarf, earmuffs and legwarmers. Probably all made by Aunt May.

https://i.ytimg.com/vi/NBPaD3j_KOs/maxresdefault.jpg


Miguel missed the bus today. He could blame the weather or the traffic or his alarm not going off. But, truth is, he just overslept. His lab job isn't exactly that reliable as it is, so he's trying not to miss too many days, although he's already bound to be late as it is. He'll just have to be his best sparkling self and not take out any hangover on his boss.

Without the bus, he's had to rely on unconventional transportation - in this case, he's slipped into costume and climbed on the back of a large panel van that's managed to get stuck in traffic. He doesn't want to webswing and draw attention, though, he just clings to the surface and sighs to himself. He's got a coat of his own over his costume, a hooded jacket, along with a knapsack containing his work clothes and brown-bag lunch.

The average person on the street probably can't see him, but webslingers up on big buildings would have a clear shot at Recluse on his way to work.


Up upon high, Peter glances aside at Bert as he looks down towards the street and then catches sight of a much darker red and blue as he arches one brow. "Well, I'd love to talk to you about Stark or Wayne, Bert, but I see a friend of mine. Let's do lunch sometime." Dropping off the side of the building, Spider-Man freefalls several stories before opening his arms, and exposing the webbing that links from elbow to ribs and allows him to glide.

That he does until he gets close to the truck, then tucks his arms to release the threading and thwips a line. Unlike Miguel, he's used to being seen by now, as he swoops by a group of suits and shoots a second line across the street to go directly over the truck. "Hey!" he greets Miguel.

"Do you know how cool it is that there's another spider-guy in the city? I mean, not that I mind all the spider-ladies, but you know, they tend to bite your head off." Then there's a pause.

"You are a guy right?" Future spider-suit is future.


Miguel doesn't have a Spider-sense or any of those sort of early warning systems, but he does have super-sharp senses. Still, Peter's arrival is sudden and unexpected, making Miguel backflip for a moment to land in a crouch across from Spider-Man.

"Kind of a personal question, but yeah, I'm a guy," he says. "I am pretty cool, I'll agree about that," he says. It's a little surreal to him, honestly, dealing with actual Spider-Man, but Miguel manages to keep himself steady about it. Sure, the guy's a legend, but he's gotta be practically a teenager at this point in time. Hell, Miguel's physically older than him. That's…time travel is weird as hell.

"I usually go by Recluse. Because it's a kind of spier, not because I'm a hermit. Although I am kind of a hermit. Not by choice, though. I just don't really know anybody. But now I do. Hello, Spider-Man."


"Well, meeting and greeting is what the job's all about, isn't it? Though usually it involves not getting punched by the guy you're trying to meet and greet with." Peter responds. He sounds like a teenager under that mask as he continues to swing. "So. New in town. And since we've already broken the ice on the whole personal question thing…" See, there's madness to his reason.

"You're not some kind of super secret government project are you? Because I know I totally didn't trademark the whole spider-powers thing, but there seems to be a lot of you as of late. But none that have a suit with… that much tech."

Because from here, Peter can start making out some of the finer details of Miguel's suit, and boy is his brain going kid in a candy store at the moment.


Miguel grins, although it can't be seen under the mask, shaking his head, "No secret government project. In fact, I'd probably rather stay out of the government's clutches, for what it's worth. Not that you're likely to turn me in for anything. I'm on the side of the angels, so to speak, but I've got my own secrets. Just like you, I imagine," he says.

"I have noticed the proliferation of spider-folks about. That one night down by the docks certainly brought a few out of the woodwork. I'm not sure if there's a connecting thread or if it's just coincidence. I tend to be more of a chaos theory type, by temperament, but I have to admit it does stretch the limits of credulity," he says.

He's relaxed a bit more, crouching now as the truck makes its way through traffic, resting his arms across his knees. "Pretty sure you're still the original, though."


Peter's swinging is getting boring, so he cuts a line so that he can land on the truck in a crouch near Miguel. Once he's landed, he takes in the words, with an arch of his brow. "Well, I've never seen a suit — say, you're not one of Stark's projects are you? I'll sue! Maybe." the young man considers for a moment. "Not metally enough." he deides, before giving a nod.

"Well, it's funny you mentioned that. Figured with all of them about, might be time to organize us. You know, like a Spider-Avengers. The S-Men?" he shrugs his shoulders. "I already met three of the spider-women - there's a fourth I heard rumors about out there, but I haven't seen her yet. Anyway, I don't want a harem or anything like that - just — perhaps a network. Threads!" he grasps onto that word. He likes it.

"Me? Original?" there's a laugh at that. "Maybe. I used to think I was a Tigger - but now I'm starting to think I'm a Pooh bear."


Miguel drums his fingers on his knee, "I'm not sure if I'm Piglet. I think I'm probably more of an Eeyore, if Eeyore were better looking and drank a lot of coffee," he says.

"No, no affiliation with Iron Man. Don't get me wrong, I admire the work. Most of the suit is my own design, actually, although I may have cribbed a few things here or there," he says. "I'm not sure about S-men, especially if most of the participants are female-identified. They might not take kindly to that sort of thing. Threads isn't bad."

"It would probably be good to have some people to work with - I've lone-wolfed it most of the time."


It's not like Peter is going to go, 'hey, I'm Peter Parker, my girlfriend (perhaps wife in the future) is the person that's handling all of this for me', so it's obvious that the younger Spider-Man is taking a thought break before he considers. "Tell you what - let me get with the others, see if I can find a time for us all together for a meet and greet. Like some masquerade ball." there could be a smirk in his voice at that.

"But it's a start. Now just to convince White Widow and the others of the idea being a sound one." he offers with a sigh, his breath coming up in a small puff of white.


Miguel nods, "I'm not really worried about my identity that much, really. I'm nobody and, like I said, I don't really know anybody," he says. He won't bring up that he knows perfectly well who Peter is, though. THat would probably seem just a wee bit threatening right off the bat.

"Tell ya what, maybe we could have, like, a simple place to leave messages for each other. I know there's an abandoned water tower, about ten blocks that way? It's getting a bit rusted out, but we could, like, leave messages and stuff for one another there. Or I could just give you my phone number," he says. "That might be easier, een if it's a little less spy centric. God, I miss wireless," he mutters.


"..that's a great idea." Peter grins at that. Why didn't he think of it. "Like a message board. Though the first one of you that offers rescuing kittens from trees will get a severe look from me." As if anyone could see that look under his mask. "I know the place. I'll let the others know. Anyway.." he rubs the back of his head. "Seems like you're a man on a mission - and judging by that bag - it's probably something I've done more than once."

Lifting his wrist, he prepares to fire a line. "Don't be a recluse." he offers before thwip and he fires a line to swing off the truck and back down the other side of the canyon.


Miguel watches Spider-Man - friggin' Spider-Man - swing away and shakes his head. Life in this time period is so god damn surreal.

Which won't comfort him very much when he's munching chicken salad and cleaning test tubes for the rest of the day because he's an hour late to work. Oh well. At least he has -something- to look forward to.


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