Roleplaying Log: Tremors
IC Details

In which a mysterious force invades Quake's mind, and Spider-Gwen must stop her.

Other Characters Referenced:
IC Date: February 07, 2019
IC Location: New York
OOC Notes & Details
Posted On: 08 Feb 2019 04:25
Rating & Warnings: SO MANY WORDS, why won't Gwen shut up
NPC & GM Credits:
Associated Plots

Another day, another cafe.

For as much as life changes sometimes it's content to stay the same. Daisy, or Cory on the street, or '5kye' online, hasn't has as much free time since last week but her old habits continue wherever possible. The weather's cold enough that she relies on public transportation but the coffee at this little place is simply -epic- and worth braving the elements for.

The only thing missing from her usual routine is a laptop or a tablet or so much as a smartphone. She's been effectively cut off from her online haunts. All that's left is a plain old camera, about the only aid she can find which still happens to work around her lately.

Still, given her recent history Daisy isn't too inclined to stick around the place for long. It's probably best that she keep moving.

Keep moving: migrate. An animal impulse, barely more sophisticated than fight or flight mode; the blood-red urge to find safety from danger and prosperity of territory elsewhere, far from other predators who might compete for what you have or even hunt you as prey. However mildly Daisy is feeling it doesn't matter. That the urge is present at all is enough to open a crack in her mind that another will can slip into. It's not fair, but what is?
It's not that what comes next to Daisy's mind is subtle enough to be unnoticeable. It's that what comes next is so primal, noticing it doesn't matter, any more than you can commit suicide by holding your breath: the body will do what it wants, a merciless machine that only knows how to obey its imperative to live. Daisy's brain floods with primitive chemicals, dilating her pupils, speeding her heart, turning her blood into a stew of stress and endorphins, submerging conscious thought beneath instinct, the instinct to…
To do what?
That's the fun, isn't it? Finding out what a woman does when she's had the rationality in her brain dialed back to let the caveman come forth?

How does one analyze a feeling when there is no rational mind left to think with? Daisy has only just stepped back down to the sidewalk when a near-physical force stops her and causes that brand new cup of coffee to fall from her hand and hit the concrete, scattering the steaming hot brew. It's like the stories of the devil upon your shoulder, urging you onward but at a level so far beyond to become nearly tangible. It isn't that something isn't right…

It's that NOTHING is right.

The vibrations passing through the street from a subway is all that it takes to trigger a response within her which had only recently found its way to the surface. Once the train has passed the ground continues to thrum with energy. No one notices it at first but there's a primal instinct within everyone. Some begin to notice it sooner than others. That feeling of 'wrongness.'

Daisy's hands slowly rise at her sides and the world around her begins to tremble. The heavy bolts holding streetlights and mailboxes to the sidewalks begin to break free of their rust and loosen. Windows and doors begin to rattle. Metal starts to groan.

Then a car is unfortunate to pass directly in front of her. At that one critical moment it goes from being completely unaffected to acting as though an invisible wrecking ball has slammed into its side. In a flash the car crumples around itself and flies sideways to the curb, taking out signs and benches in its path. Those rattling windows start to shatter in their sills. People begin to scream and run away. And Daisy, having just paid for her morning brew, lets out a scream which no human should ever make.

Gwen Stacy isn't far away, as these things go. Maybe a dozen blocks. She's slouching her way down the sidewalks (but not too slouched; a little hunker encourages people to look past you, but go too deep and you start sending out nearly imperceptible fear signals bullies pick up on like sharks pick up on blood), the attention-grabbing pink tips of her hair stuffed deep down the back of a hooded jacket she dug out of a dumpster and washed as best she could in a YWCA bathroom. It doesn't smell bad any more, at least.
It's one of life's little ironies that she's thinking about string theory, or at least as much of it as she can remember from senior year, when she noticed the vibrations pulsing through the stones beneath her feet, strumming the buildings before her like the strings of a guitar, shaking tiny puffs of dust off the tiny, cultivated trees lining the streets. A sharp glance around suggests no one else seems to notice anything, but Gwen isn't surprised. Feeling subtle vibrations is kind of a spider thing.
Gwen ducks into an alley and darts for the darkest shadows it can offer, not to hide but make it harder to tell who it was who just leapt thirty feet up into the air, whose toes just adhered to the brick wall so she could charge up the side not in defiance of gravity but with a strength and a practiced rhythm of right-foot-stick-left-foot-release that makes it look like magic. By the time she's on the building's roof, her dingy, denim-and-cotton hood has been replaced by the sleek white, pink, and black spandex Spider-Woman wears, and her dumpster-coat lands on the tarpaper with a splat of webbing to keep it in place. One of the building's occupants, a young man headed upstairs to smoke, spasms from the hips all the way up to the spine at the surprise of seeing the hooded Spider-Woman rush past him, her apology drifting back to him and made nearly inaudible by the slipstream of her charge across the roof to build up speed before leaping and thwipping.
It takes her all of fifty seconds to swing toward the center of the phenomenon, guided less by her observations than by the bone-deep awareness of where the shockwaves are coming from. She can feel them pushing against her body, repelling her subtly. She ignores it, eyes focused and jaw set as her body knifes through the air again and again until she finds a perch atop a streetlight to spy the source of the damage. No superscience bomb, no lunatic in a quilted yellow outfit, just a young woman screaming and OH CRAP NEVER MIND THINGS ARE FALLING
Gwen leaps off her perch. Her wrists fire again and again, pinning girders in place and stopping bolts from rattling loose with steelsilk.
"Hey! Do you need help?" she yells down at the girl on the street.

The inclusion of another fast moving target serves as a good distraction, if nothing else. The concrete foundations are threatening to split open and crumble to dust before the other woman's attention darts upward, trying to follow the path of that airborne creature. There, upon that lightpost, visual contact is made. The creature which stares back at Gwen is not a scared or hurt or worried young woman but something truly feral in nature. It's more of a culmination of every bad emotion and every negative feeling being expressed at full power at the same time.

Up come the hands. Out goes the yell. That streetlight which the Spider has chosen as a perch? It suddenly vibrates with acute intensity, a feeling of slamming a metal pole into a steel girder with enough force to leave the hands feeling numb in shock. The bulbs burst with a shower of sparks. Then the entire pole begins to twist and buckle, crumpling into a bizarre shape of its former self as if the hand of a god closed down around it for all it was worth.

Safe to say, she probably needs some help. She is one hundred percent giving the crazy-eyes but for someone who can still see clearly, as in very clearly, they just might notice that Daisy's uncovered hands are starting to change color… Pinks giving way to reds. Reds giving way to violets.

Maybe it's a trick of the lighting but the sudden dash of brick dust coming from the cafe, that is very much real. This chick's going to level the entire block if left unchecked!

Spider-Woman's leaps lose momentum the longer they last, of course. That's just physics. They start out at roughly 45 MPH, and could hold that velocity pretty easily if she could spare one hand to keep web-swinging, but all the not-quite-explosions around her are keeping both hands busy double-barreling webs to secure falling rafters, to catch falling people, to shore up crumbling walls as she dodges blast after blast.
As fast as her limbs are working, Spider-Woman's mouth is moving faster. "Whoa! Hey! Though I disagree with how you use it, I gotta say, your ability to amplify vibrations" ('yipes,' she adds as she ducks, then keeps talking as if the interjection never occurred) "is really cool! And very (scuse me) useful! Has anyone ever hooked an electric bass up to you? (watch out, I gotcha!) Because we could totally recreate that scene from Back To The Future (haichickow)!"
Even faster, her brain is running. Think, Gwen! How do you cancel out vibrations? You either hit them with equal and opposite frequenciesdarn it, left my anti-explostion emitter in my other suit, isn't that just my luckor you insulate it to the point it can't travel. Can my webshooters do that? Yes, because if they don't, people are going to die. Shut up, it does too count as logic!
The emission source is obvious: the woman's blood-colored hands. Webbing them up shouldn't be too hard, as long as Gwen can get a straight shot at them to coat them evenly. The bad news is, giving her a straight shot probably means taking a hit from energy blasts that are rocking entire buildings.
Well, that's the job you signed up for, Spider-Woman. Earn the mask.
"I want you to know, if this was a regulation game of tag, the referees would have sent you to the penalty box for unsporting extension of tag abilities," Spider-Woman yells disapprovingly at the walking earthquake, trying to get her attention as she lands on what she hopes is the emptiest part of the street; the part that can take the most damage if Gwen isn't fast enough to web up the other woman's fists.

Trying to catch a spider with vibrations turns out to not be so easy a task! Fortunately for said Spider, Daisy's largely unfocused and driven by something much more pirimitive than any form of training. It's more like fighting an animal than a person. An earthquake-creating animal… Totally normal.

Unfortunately for Gwen, in her act to dodge around and keep the city from falling apart she is in turn directing the attack onto all of those structures while the stationary metahuman tries to tear her apart! Without all of that webbing there would be some pretty fantastic piles of rubble piling up around Daisy.

Through all of this it becomes quite obvious that these attacks are focused and they do have a projected direction, following the lady's hands like water from a spout. Maybe turning off the proverbial spout isn't an immediate option, but directing the flow is another matter.

Soon enough Gwen gets her window. Something interrupts that girl's rageorama while chasing the Spider down, a sudden flinch and an agonized snarl as one of her hands is quickly drawn in close. Both of her arms are shaking, and neither of them are looking real good… For a precious moment of time she's starting to curl around herself, recoiling from the use of such power.

By the time her hands come back into play they're both suddenly webbed.

As it turns out, simply making her hands into fists isn't enough to turn off the spout. Something needs to change soon though or she just might tear herself apart before the city itself lies in ruin. Just another day in New York City, right?

Crud. Gwen had really hoped her viscous, elastic webbing would muffle the quakes in ways a rigid material like stone couldn't. No time to dwell on it now, though, as Spider-Woman pulls her weblines taut, her right hand connected to Daisy's right and left to left as if doing a double-handshake, so Gwen can at least make Daisy's arms cross at the forearms and point her hands in different directions. They can't focus their full power that way.
What could the source of her power be? Solids transmit vibration better than either liquid or gas; maybe the woman is drawing vibrations from her contact with the ground and amplifying them outward through her limbs. If so, Gwen might be able to cut her off from her power supply by getting her off the ground and suspending her. If the vibrations instead come from within herself, insulating her body, steadying her, might be Gwen's best bet.
Or it could be neither of those things, and all this is wasted planning. Never mind. Focus, Spider-Woman, and if this doesn't work, you can always kick her in the face and hope knocking her out does it.
"Hey, do you have a name? I just realized my internal monologue has been calling you 'the woman,' and that's pretty dehumanizing, you know?" Gwen yells at her adversary, twenty feet away, only partially pinned by webbing. Advancing toward her is dangerous; Gwen has to repeatedly grab at her weblines to tighten up her grip so the woman on the other end of them, so she doesn't dare move quickly, just shuffling closer to the woman on the other end of her lines. "Have you workshopped any cape names yet? How do you like Vibratto? It has kind of a musical theme to it, so you could start building gimmicks out of string instruments and stuff! Sorry, I just have guitars on the brain today!" Ten feet; five; three. Close enough. Gwen risks whipping her head quickly to the left, looking for an overhang she can try to dangle Vibratto from to diffuse her shockwaves.
"Tell you what, I'll just call you Vibratto for now until you come up with something cooler, 'kay?"

The 'drunken ballerina' analogy is shockingly accurate. The lady is worn out, suffering from some pretty nasty internal injuries, and not in control of herself. Her coordination is not in a happy place. It makes it a simple matter for the Spider to get her arms all bundled together, which makes the follow-through even easier. True to an animal the options are either fight or flight. When the first is no longer an option that leaves one left, and THAT option was the first one to be taken away!

Gwen can likely predict how this is going to play out at first. It's remarkably similar to someone who is overdosing on certain kinds of drugs. The kicking, the snarling, the twisting about as though they'll magically free themselves from whatever's holding them back. Blind, fierce determination. At least she doesn't seem to be doing any further harm to herself. Or anything else…

The change happens as quickly as someone flicking off a light. Her head drops down as she goes completely limp, idly swaying in the breeze for a moment before life snaps back into her with a stifled yelp. Very quick to follow is "Oh God my arms! AAH! Get me down get me down it hurts it hurts so bad!"

The fury-blinded ragebeast is just about in tears in the span of a few quickened heartbeats. Something is -definitely- not right here. Through the anguished expression there's a blank look in Daisy's eyes as she stares down at Gwen. Confusion. Like she just woke up from a bad dream only to discover a killer cramp. One line is cut while two more take its place.

"-Seriously- not kidding I think my arms are broken get me down!"

There's a single moment of crazed paranoia that this is all a trick; but if it was, Gwen's spider-sense would be warning her about it. Spider-Woman yells, "I'm coming to get you down!" slightly less quickly than she's already moving to do so, leaping the fifteen feet in the air to land on the streetlight that is Vibratto's prison, and doing it with such casual grace she lands at the very top of her parabola so her weight on the trip down doesn't damage risk bouncing or bending the semi-hollow bar. Spider-Woman grips the base of the webline securing Vibratto in place and calls down, "This is going to jar you a little bit, so just stay as loose as you can, okay? Being stiff will just hurt your bones more." That's a piece of information she picked up from her dad, about how tense people suffer worse injuries in car crashes than relaxed ones. "Can you do that? Just breathe and let go of your tension?"

"Ooooh that is a long way down," Daisy mutters through her teeth while making the first mistake of never..looking..down. "I am aching all over and about to throw up at any moment and feel like a—just get me down already!" she pleads.

Going limp is way easier said than done! But something can help with this. Getting her first real look at all of the webbed-up destruction, the wreckage, the people who for one reason or another are still on site. "Oh my god," she breathes out. "I didn't do th-AAH!"

Slight improvement, now she's on the ground. Gotta make use of those windows of opportunity! Daisy's now lying on her back and staring up at the very twisted sight of a mangled building while sirens can be heard off in the distance. Her day is about to get a lot worse. And that Spider seems to be her only friend in the world anymore.

"Please, you've gotta get me out of here! Don't let them find me like this! I can't… Not again, oh no not again…"

It isn't THAT big of a deal to remove the prime suspect from a crime scene before the authorities can arrive, right? It must happen all the time around here, what's one more!

Spider-Woman hops lightly down and lands in a crouch beside Vibratto, knees far out, fingertips propped against the ground. "Talk to me," she says quickly and urgently, no flippancy now, just earnestness drawn tight with the tension of an aching desire to do the right thing. "Do you need to be somewhere safe that this can't happen again?" she asks, her eyes behind her mask's lenses staring down into Vibratto's like she's trying to see into the other woman's soul.

Desperate times call for desperate measures and Daisy's never felt so desperate before. There is exactly one card she can play here which will have a chance of getting her out of this mess, though it'll only land her in another one soon after. But dammitall if she doesn't have a choice any longer.

Her voice drops to an unsteady whisper, rattled between pain and emotion. "I'm with SHIELD."

It's one of the hardest decisions of her life, visible in how tense every muscle is, before she decides, "Okay. I'm taking you to them." She reaches to scoop Vibratto up, pauses just long enough to apologize, "I'm sorry, but this part is going to hurt, so be tough," before collecting the other woman and swinging her over one spider-strong shoulder like a bag of water softener pellets. Spider-Woman keeps an arm on her adversary and uses the other to thwip a line up to the roof corner of the nearest building; a line she uses to rappel for balance as she leaps up onto the rooftop where approaching cars can't find her. Police aircraft will be another problem, but at least she has a headstart on them. Helicopters take longer to get moving than cars do.
The trip up the building is full of jarring bounces. Spider-Woman does her best to minimize each impact by absorbing it with her knees, but there's only so much she can do, and that's before she has to start jumping from building to building in a crooked path chosen more for the height of the rooftops involved than for an efficient path out of danger. "So what's your name, Agent?" she asks, the wince in her voice audible at each incompletely softened landing; but jumping would be less jarring than webswinging away one-armed, that's for sure.

And hurt it does, but if it means not having to deal with the police or whatever else then Daisy will darn well deal with it! Gwen will still know that it hurts, it's not the sort of thing a person can simply ignore but at least there isn't any yelling involved. Little steps.

And suddenly they're both up near a rooftop. When did this happen!? Talk about amazing and terrifying at the same time!

Holy -crap- you are strong," Daisy hisses before the two are sent flying through the air. Still terrifying! "Oh damn, oooh damn don't let go!"

A question, yes. That should help distract her from the acrobatics. "Daisy Johnson," she replies with another wince. "I'm ..I'm still new to this. -Really- new. The power..thing. Like 'not ready to admit that it's a thing' new. Eugh, God I knew I shoulda stayed in bed today!" Too late for that.

Ow. Ow. Ow.

"What about you? I only met one other who can walk around on walls like that and I'm pretty sure you aren't her."

"I'm Spider-Woman," she greets. "It seemed thematic. You know, the whole walls and webs thing. I guess I could have called myself Silkworm-Woman, but it felt less dignified. Plus, I think silkworms just eat all day. So, your powers go out of control like that often?" she asks, not terribly casually. She's carried Agent Johnson (and good thing she knows that name, too; 'Vibratto' was just terrible) a block away in the last twenty or so seconds, far enough she feels safe slowing down enough to walk across rooftops rather than leap across them.

Blink. "No you're not," Daisy automatically replies in a confused tone. "I've met Spider-Woman already, and it wasn't you. Isn't there some unspoken rule about not sharing codenames or something?"

Also, how is this Spider still not tired? Daisy's never piggybacked a metahuman before, it leaves a lot of unanswered questions along with some bends to reality which are pretty difficult to grasp even on the best of days.

At the next question there's a long silence which follows before she mutters "Twice. Almost three. Look, up until about a week ago I was just a plain old normal person! I'd sit in my apartment and play MMO's and lurk on messageboards and do all of that -normal person- stuff. If I knew this was going to happen I would have stayed home and taken another shot at the Grimwald Tower on Might and Mayhem. There was ..something different this time, though. Like my brain just..decided to check out for a while. Was..was I yelling..? Throat's really sore."

To this point, Spider-Woman has been choosing which rooftops to run across not because they'll take her in any particular direction, but because this or that one seems like the shortest, easiest jump for her passenger's aching bones to absorb the impact of. It works out to a basically random pattern across the neighborhood, one she's travelled several buildings' worth of now; long enough that she feels safe selecting one empty roof to pause on and gently lower Daisy to the ground.
"Normally I don't like it when police get nosy about be, but since I kinda-sorta put you in a straightjacket I'm now going to have to rip off you, I figure you've earned some answers. Here, just kind of sit up on the ground with your legs spread a little bit for stability. There you go."
Gwen starts with the arm webbed up and over Daisy's shoulder. Her fingers work at the threads carefully, pinching the bits attached to Daisy's arm and the bits attached to Daisy's back, then pulling to snap the strands in the gap between arm and back. Anything more than that would, bare minimum, destroy Daisy's jacket, and probably give her the world's cheapest, bloodiest arm hair removal wax she's ever had.
"One, I'm totally the first and original Spider-Woman. You just don't know me because I go to another school, but all my friends there would back me up." Her voice takes on a bratty teenaged pitch for that bit. "Second, yeah, you were yelling, I think. It was hard to hear over your shockwaves, but your mouth was open like you were yelling. Do you not remember what happened?"
And before Daisy can answer that question, just rolling into it with the same conversational tone (may as well soften the emotional blow of that revelation with some chatter), Spider-Woman continues, "And third, don't even act like you're tough enough to raid Grimwald without a party. If you are, I'm gonna demand SHIELD look into your history to see how you cheated."

Daisy, for one, is very grateful to no longer be moving. Once dropped off she can barely stand at first, both worn out from the rampant use of an unfamiliar power and from escaping the disaster which resulted from it.

"Not sure I'd consider myself the police," she half-mutters while bracing for the de-webbing. It's one more detail in a rapidly growing list of things to be apprehensive about! Is it going to hurt? Shred her clothes? Upset her injured arms any? And how difficult is it going to —okay, pretty difficult from the way the Spider starts out. "Wow, that stuff is really persistent…"

"Okay, hey, you can take it up with the other Spider-Woman then, alright? I'm just the messenger, calling it like I see it." Another pause follows as Daisy tries to recall though her expression remains blank.

She's about to respond before Gwen effectively cuts her off, brown eyes going wide as she stares back at the Spider. "Hey, don't think that I was planning to go about it solo! I'm not an -idiot,- that's what clans are for. If you knew the Riftbusters you'd—wait. How do you know about Grimwald?"

Daisy stands there and staaaares at the Spider, appearing way more puzzled than absolutely necessary. What, superheroes aren't allowed to have some downtime? They can't play the same games that those 'normal' people play?

Daisy doubles down, still staring at Gwen when she says one more word: "Skye."

The strands of webbing stretch and pop with slow regularity; it's intensely strong material, and Spider-Woman lacks the leverage (or, more properly, the dissolving agent) to cut it quickly without breaking Daisy's arm. She pinches and pulls, pinches and pulls, alternating sides of Daisy's arm from time to time to keep the pressure on her tender bones equal.
"You got a badge? You're a cop, Agent Johnson," Spider-Woman informs Daisy firmly as she works her way from wrist to elbow, each strand releasing a little pressure on Daisy's shoulder.
At Daisy's final word, Spider-Woman stiffens and shoots backward… and then starts scanning the sky, head turning quickly back and forth. "Oh crap, what? Are there SHIELD drones closing in on us or something?"
It's not Daisy's fault it's a homonym.

Through all of this pinching and pulling of web strands Daisy can't help but feel like a child who managed to get bubblegum mashed into her hair. It's probably a very similar experience.

Once again she's all set to respond only to not be given the chance to. One more mystery to be revealed at a later time, perhaps!

Instead she turns around and looks really, really confused at Spider-Woman's sudden retreat. "What—? No, no. 'Skye,' it' alias. Internet alias. Spelled with a five? Level…" she frowns and thinks, "thirty..something spellsword? Look, I don't have a badge, okay? I'm still with SHIELD but it's..complicated," she declares with a heavy sigh.

So much for another mystery. She held onto that one for as long as she could!

"As for the whole ..whatever happened back there thing. I really don't remember. I came outside with my coffee, next thing I'm turned into an impromptu art display with two very sore arms. It's pretty obvious how I got there, just..don't know what happened leading up to it. Crap, did anyone get hurt? Other than me?"

Ugh, today is nothing short of a disaster.

There's one conversation every child of a cop has with their parent, one where you're expected to sit down and listen like your life depends on it: the one where they explain how to defend yourself from cops. The one where they tell you what your rights are, what magic words you need to say to get out of a trap; the one where they warn you all cops are liars who will do whatever it takes to pin a crime on you. Daisy is a cop: she could be lying about every word of this to get Gwen off-guard, to trick her into an unforced error that reveals her identity as a vigilante… but that doesn't make sense, right? If they already know enough to infiltrate or imitate her online social circle, then they wouldn't need to hear her say it aloud, right?
And more than that, if Daisy is her friend, doesn't Daisy deserve to know?
It takes about two seconds of thought to come to a conclusion. "Okay, that's a weird coincidence," Spider-Woman admits, hearing the reluctance and caution in her voice but not being able to help it. She's a stranger in this dimension, and she's tried hard not to build connections that will break her heart when she goes home. "I think we've met online. Sigeziel?"
You have to name a shadow elf witch something as try-hard as Sigeziel.

Given the opportunity there's probably quite a lot that these two could discuss while they cool off in the gusty winter air atop of this building. With the long silence and a conflicted looking Spider-Woman standing a few feet away Daisy tries to be patient, not wanting to start pulling at the remaining webbing on her own lest she do more damage to her arms. Juuust wait, ArachniChick won't leave her like this for much longer…

"Oh my god. Midnight Witch?" she blurts out something of a pet name for the character in question. "You. -You're- Sigeziel. I had no idea that's how you pronounced it," she adds in a lowered tone before bouncing right back. "That's more than a 'weird coincidence,' we're on a whole different level here! There's just No Way that…"

Happens at random?

Daisy's eyes go wide. She would have put up her hands in defense if she were able to. "I had nothing to do with this. I had -No. Idea.- Who you were, I -promise.- I am not hunting you down, I am not seeking revenge because you got the Staff of the Abyss before I could, and this is in no way connected to anything dealing with SHIELD."

That should about cover it for the paranoids in the audience.

Spider-Woman is still for a very long time, just regarding the still mostly web-entombed Daisy for twenty seconds before softly pronouncing, "So this is it. This is how I die: hunted down by the government and thrown into a secret gulag by a vengeful spy." She shakes her head slightly, slowly. "I think some part of me knew it would come to this when I took the Staff of the Abyss, but if I had it all to do over again? I would. So send your legions at me, Agent of SHIELD! I can die satisfied that I got +20 cooldown on necrotic effects!"

Daisy goes right back to that blank stare, suddenly not sure if she wants to hang her head or start laughing! "Sigez..can we please get back to the 'getting me out of this stuff' part? I can prove to you that I don't have a badge—I mean sort of," she shakes her head. "There's a bracelet on my left wrist, it gives me rudimentary security access but it's more like I'm on house arrest than an actual agent. They're able to track me through it. I'm hardly better off than you are, here." Again she hesitates before glancing down and off to one side, mumbling "It's a long story."

"Only if you call me Midnight Witch again," Spider-Woman says comfortably. "I like the way you say it, Skye." She gets back to work separating Daisy's arm from her back, and after a couple more brisk pulls, it's finally free; the remaining webbing is tacky, like mostly-dried glue, but not actively sticking to anything. One arm down, one to go, this one wrapped at rib level. "So, what's up with you? Mad science experiment?"

Daisy releases a gentle sigh and looks directly at Spider-Woman again. "Midnight Witch."

As the next few strands get pulled and separated she's back to making a slightly grossed out expression. "These came from your arms..right? You didn't, like, spit them at me or something particularly freakish?" Then she shakes her head, "I don't know. There's been a lot of 'mutant' this and 'metahuman' that. There hasn't been an official investigation, or anything. ..Yet. It just happened a few days ago, out of nowhere. I got really stressed out and bam. World turned upside down."

Her demeanor changes quickly here, giving Spider-Woman a borderline desperate look. "They're talking about registering me, Sigez. I don't know who or what I am anymore, I didn't ask for any of this! Now I don't even get a choice on what happens next."

Spider-Woman smiles at Daisy, then remembers she's wearing a full-face mask that makes a smile impossible to see. Oh well, probably better that way. She ducks the question about her webshooters (they definitely give away too many details if answered honestly, but she also doesn't want to lie) to ask, as she kneels behind Daisy to pop the webbing, "Tell me about registration. What's it all about? What would it have to do to you?"

"Are all masked people this difficult to read?"

Nevermind. Daisy is just about free but it's getting mighty cold up here and at any moment it may well be a problem for her to be seen standing around Spider-Woman. of the Spider-Womans. SHIELD has satellite access and a direct GPS coordinate for where she's now standing. Darnit, she should have thought about this before!

"Answer this for me, and be honest. How would you feel about someone telling you that you -had- to put your name, address, and a full description about any 'special abilities' you might have into a database somewhere -keeping in mind- that any database can be broken into and all of their secrets leaked. It'd be like..putting a permanent bullseye on your back. One that would never go away. Once that information is out there it'll never disappear."

The subject changes with a quick glance over her shoulder. "Hey. We should split. No doubt they're already aware of what happened back there and they already know what I can do, I'll be the top person of interest on their list. It ..may be a while before I'm back on Might and Mayhem."

"I'd lift one finger up to display how jaded I feel about it," Spider-Woman (obscurely) misquotes, her words lighter than her tone. "Yeah, registration sounds like garbage. I wouldn't want to do it either. Butand I'm asking you this seriously, Daisyshould you go to SHIELD anyway? If this kind of thing is going to keep happening to you, then you really do need help before someone gets hurt. If you don't go to them, is there anyone else who can help you?"
Rip, snap, pop. Daisy has full use of her arms again, if not her gummy, webbed-up hands.
"Because if that's what you need… I'll go with you. You shouldn't have to be alone."

The (mis)quote may be lost to her, but Daisy's response is almost immediate. "Yah. Probably. I don't know. I—" Stop. Breathe. "They said that they'd help me. I don't know where else I could go. It's not like I can hop online and find superpowered counseling services, right? Actually I've never tried that, but these guys know everything about me. -Ev-er-y-thing.- Either they watch me while I know they're watching me or they watch me when I think that I'm free."

With her hands free she can distractedly pick at the last literal handfuls of strands. (Ew.)

"Maybe if there was another option on the table but right now this is all I have. I can't go underground because I can't remove the bracelet and Bad Things would likely result if I did. After what just happened I think it'd be best to ..go to them and fess up," she ends in a grumble.

She's forgetting something important.

Looking back up to Gwen, she adds "Thank you. For..offering to help. If you want to go back to the Triskelion with me I won't push you away, but that might not end well for you."

Spider-Woman hops over Daisy's sitting form, flipping in midair to land in a spider-crouch facing her. "I believe in responsibility," she explains quietly, sincerely. "We all have to do our part to take ownership of the world we make. I don't know what the consequences would be of swinging you to the Triskelion, but as awful as it sounds to be put on a registry just for being something I never asked to be, I think I should give them a chance to explain. And I think whatever you decide you can live with, I can support you with."

Clearly Daisy is not happy with this proposed course of action, herself. On the upside, there's an ally in the city who is a lot closer than she had realized! To think she had been gaming with a freaking superhero! There is -nothing- about this which seems bad to her.

"That's probably the best option," she agrees at length. "I can catch a ride and be on my way in no time. Just..remember that whatever happened back there? You saved people. Maybe even me. I don't have many friends, but…" she trails off while gently bobbing her head a few times. "Not many people would have handled it so well. I'll find you online sometime. When I'm able to."

Spider-Woman reaches for Daisy's hand, remembers just in time that it's probably fractured as well as coated in a mitten of steelsilk webbing, and reverses her own hand's course to grip Daisy's shoulder. "Thanks. Come on, let's go get this over with." She squeezes comfortingly, then walks over to the roof's ledge. The right side of her body is turned to face Daisy; her right arm is swept out in silent offer of a hug while her left makes its eerie, webspitting gesture toward the bricks at her feet in preparation to fire a line. "I think this will be the first time I ever lowered someone to the ground like this, but I'll be gentle, I promise. Grab me wherever you feel safe. You won't hurt me, and I'll have a good grip on you."

At the mere thought of having her hand taken Daisy grimaces but tries to write it off as a sheepish smile back to Gwen. "Yah," is all she can say in agreement. As far as getting a ride down from the rooftop it should be downright easy in a normal situation. Just hang on, wait it out and don't look down! With compromised arms it's a whole lot more awkward and involves looping her arms around Spider-Woman's neck in something of a piggyback.

"I won't tell anyone about this," she promises with a somewhat amused look.

"Oh, I figured you weren't that kind of girl," Spider-Woman banters right back, just as amused. Her arm wraps firmly around Daisy's hips (trust her, it's better to have half your body's weight pressing down on your hips than eighty percent of your weight pressing down on your armpits, and the trademark 'thwip' sounds from her wrist as she leans backward off the roof. The webline catches before gravity can begin pulling either body seriously down, and, with the line to brace her, she starts 'back' down the wall almost like rappelling. "And yeah, I'll be checking in on you. Leave me a message when you can, okay? I'll be worrying about you. You can open your eyes now, by the way."

"Let's not get into that right now. We're about to fall off the edge of an apartment complex."

By the time Daisy cautiously opens her eyes again, she's muttering "This is the craziest trust fall exercise ever… I'll be happy to never see another building from this angle."

As for staying in contact, "I'll do what I can. This bracelet won't let me access any device which isn't approved by them. Yes, it is just as annoying as it sounds. My raiding days are over for the foreseeable future. Maybe I can switch over to smoke signals. Or carrier pigeon," she thinks aloud with a doubtful expression.

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