Post by Rift on Apr 14, 2023 11:18:04 GMT -7
After Crime and Punishment
Miguel O'Hara walked down the street in hopes of clearing his head. Ordinarily he'd have been spending his lunch hour inside the Alchemax building, likely enduring tedious and increasingly annoying small talk from his coworkers as they droned on and on about politics, the weather, or some new project he already knew the fate of thanks to his knowledge of the future. Today however he had far too much on his mind to worry about pretending to be interested in such things.
It had been roughly two weeks since he and the Punisher had encountered and shut down the arms dealers peddling 2099 weaponry to street thugs and wannabe mafiosos. The entire thing had been stressful to say the least. He simultaneously had to stop the weapons from being sold, destroy any and all trace of their presence in the current day, and had to swallow the urge to leave Frank Castle webbed up with the rest of the scum.
I'm not exactly a saint and I admit I am not above using more lethal methods for self-defense if I have to, but that guy takes it to another level. Besides, there's no telling what meddling with the timeline, such as stopping the Punisher from punishing, would do to screw up my future, he thought.
In the days since he had spent his time tracking down some of the buyers that he and Punisher hadn't encountered that night. Most of them were smalltime hoods who thought they'd look cool with a laser gun, but for each one he took off the street he got no closer to finding the source of the weapons. Sure the dealer was gone, but something had brought them through time to be distributed in the first place. While he attempted to track occurrences that matched the signature of futuristic tech, it was a slow and arduous process.
And not one to try inside Alchemax. Even in the here and now they monitor all electronic signals inside the building. I'd rather not have to try explaining to them why the shock I was searching for crimes showing signs of plasma discharge or tachyon particle presence.
As he tried to think of what to do next, stopping for a moment or so to marvel at just how different New York was from Nuevo York, a blast from a nearby construction site sent debris flying and civilians running. Making sure to keep his sunglasses in place, his light sensitive eyes already stinging from the bright flash of the explosion, he spotted something circling like a buzzard overhead.
"Lyla, who or what is that?" he asked.
From his watch, his holographic assistant emerged, glancing upwards before turning back to him. "Well Miggy, I think that's the Hobgoblin! Exciting isn't it? One of the original Spider-Man's enemies right here! Which one though I'm not sure. Hobgoblins seem to pop up like weeds in this century. From the energy readings I sense, using he's using lasers from home!"
"Suit, now," he commanded. "I'm going to go ask him where the shock he got his upgrades. He's the most dangerous player I've seen to be sporting 2099 tech and I want to know who gave it to him."
Above
While the hologram changed Miguel's street clothes into the dark black and red costume of the futuristic Spider-Man, the Hobgoblin went about his business, firing a laser from his gloved finger that melted a support beam and threatened to send a construction worker crashing to the ground below.
"You know gents, I really should apologize. I'm all about branding and it is not the usual Hobgoblin style to pick on random morons, but worry not, you will die in the name of a greater cause!"
Hobgoblin meant what he said too. Following a raid on his underground lair by a pair of would-be heroes, being betrayed by the Kingpin, and causing enough damage to get the unregistered heroes of the city to come after him with a purpose he'd been forced to take drastic measures. His plans for a comeback were circling the drain, his aspirations of being not only the single most important goblin in the city but also the new crime boss of the Big Apple had evaporated, and with dwindling resources it looked like he was going to have to go back into hiding in a gutter somewhere. That was until the future came calling, quite literally.
He'd met someone, someone from the future that gave him the opportunity to turn it all around. They even gave him some wonderful new toys to get it done and the only payment had to give them was a promise to use the weapons. The construction workers were mere bait. Bait for someone who was threatening the future they'd planned to create. Once they showed he only had to send them to the afterlife in order to not only keep his newfound weaponry, but also to learn the truth of what his own future held for him.
Miguel O'Hara walked down the street in hopes of clearing his head. Ordinarily he'd have been spending his lunch hour inside the Alchemax building, likely enduring tedious and increasingly annoying small talk from his coworkers as they droned on and on about politics, the weather, or some new project he already knew the fate of thanks to his knowledge of the future. Today however he had far too much on his mind to worry about pretending to be interested in such things.
It had been roughly two weeks since he and the Punisher had encountered and shut down the arms dealers peddling 2099 weaponry to street thugs and wannabe mafiosos. The entire thing had been stressful to say the least. He simultaneously had to stop the weapons from being sold, destroy any and all trace of their presence in the current day, and had to swallow the urge to leave Frank Castle webbed up with the rest of the scum.
I'm not exactly a saint and I admit I am not above using more lethal methods for self-defense if I have to, but that guy takes it to another level. Besides, there's no telling what meddling with the timeline, such as stopping the Punisher from punishing, would do to screw up my future, he thought.
In the days since he had spent his time tracking down some of the buyers that he and Punisher hadn't encountered that night. Most of them were smalltime hoods who thought they'd look cool with a laser gun, but for each one he took off the street he got no closer to finding the source of the weapons. Sure the dealer was gone, but something had brought them through time to be distributed in the first place. While he attempted to track occurrences that matched the signature of futuristic tech, it was a slow and arduous process.
And not one to try inside Alchemax. Even in the here and now they monitor all electronic signals inside the building. I'd rather not have to try explaining to them why the shock I was searching for crimes showing signs of plasma discharge or tachyon particle presence.
As he tried to think of what to do next, stopping for a moment or so to marvel at just how different New York was from Nuevo York, a blast from a nearby construction site sent debris flying and civilians running. Making sure to keep his sunglasses in place, his light sensitive eyes already stinging from the bright flash of the explosion, he spotted something circling like a buzzard overhead.
"Lyla, who or what is that?" he asked.
From his watch, his holographic assistant emerged, glancing upwards before turning back to him. "Well Miggy, I think that's the Hobgoblin! Exciting isn't it? One of the original Spider-Man's enemies right here! Which one though I'm not sure. Hobgoblins seem to pop up like weeds in this century. From the energy readings I sense, using he's using lasers from home!"
"Suit, now," he commanded. "I'm going to go ask him where the shock he got his upgrades. He's the most dangerous player I've seen to be sporting 2099 tech and I want to know who gave it to him."
Above
While the hologram changed Miguel's street clothes into the dark black and red costume of the futuristic Spider-Man, the Hobgoblin went about his business, firing a laser from his gloved finger that melted a support beam and threatened to send a construction worker crashing to the ground below.
"You know gents, I really should apologize. I'm all about branding and it is not the usual Hobgoblin style to pick on random morons, but worry not, you will die in the name of a greater cause!"
Hobgoblin meant what he said too. Following a raid on his underground lair by a pair of would-be heroes, being betrayed by the Kingpin, and causing enough damage to get the unregistered heroes of the city to come after him with a purpose he'd been forced to take drastic measures. His plans for a comeback were circling the drain, his aspirations of being not only the single most important goblin in the city but also the new crime boss of the Big Apple had evaporated, and with dwindling resources it looked like he was going to have to go back into hiding in a gutter somewhere. That was until the future came calling, quite literally.
He'd met someone, someone from the future that gave him the opportunity to turn it all around. They even gave him some wonderful new toys to get it done and the only payment had to give them was a promise to use the weapons. The construction workers were mere bait. Bait for someone who was threatening the future they'd planned to create. Once they showed he only had to send them to the afterlife in order to not only keep his newfound weaponry, but also to learn the truth of what his own future held for him.
