《A Nerd's Wet Dream Come True (Tossing an OC into Marvel)》Entering the Dragon
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After getting yelled at for being out so late by the old woman, one Samatha Wiggins, in charge of the Home for Little Wanderer's orphanage he quickly shuffled up creaking steps and into his room in the attic. It was a bit cramped, but he enjoyed the privacy and the view from the small window. It was Friday which means he had the next two days free. Suddenly an idea hit him.
It was quite strange and out of character now that he thought about it.
He should've checked the date sooner, but thankfully there was still plenty of time. He'd borrow a phonebook tomorrow and look up future heroes and villains. Perhaps he could befriend some, others he could keep track of so he could prepare for the future. He'd probably also have to find another source of income. A part-time job perhaps? He'd also need to work out more and join a martial arts class. Maybe jujitsu or boxing? His Judo was fairly decent, but not anywhere near enough with what he was planning to do, especially with his awkward movement in his relatively new and weaker body. Not that he planned to attempt to beat down villains with his fists.
With a rough framework of a plan in place, John finished his assigned reading activity and went to bed. He had a long day of traveling around New York tomorrow and he wanted an early start.
He had woken up at 7 o'clock sharp and sneaked into the office of Miss Wiggins and borrowed the big yellow phonebook he'd found. Stuffing it in his backpack he'd marked notable names. Gwen Stacy, Benjamin Parker. Otto Octavius. Charles Xavier. Tony Stark.
Some were easy with notable names, others were more common and had multiple listings. He made note of them all. A Trip to the local library had helped him find some locations of note with Google Maps. He had struggled as the buildings in real life and in the comics were drastically different, but thankfully he eventually located them. Stark Industries, Oscorps. the Baxter building, the X-Mansion, so many different locations of note.
Thankfully he could find out where Peter Parker and Gwen lived through Mary Jane if he couldn't find them through school. He'd have to be subtle about it, but that was two potential Spider totems located. Perhaps he could be the third? Fourth if Cindy Moon was here. Then again, he didn't know how he felt about letting a radioactive spider bit him. He wasn't a chosen one, what if the Weaver didn't like him? What if he turned into a Man-Spider or just died?
He was impulsive, but he wasn't stupid. Theren't no need to risk his life for something so uncertain...Yet. He'll try other avenues of acquiring powers before doing something drastic. After all, normal people becoming heroes actually wasn't uncommon in Marvel, and those jealous and seeking to gain the powers of heroes usually ended up monsters or 6 feet under. He couldn't stress this enough, though it was mostly for his own benefit so he wouldn't fall to temptation.
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He went around the area looking for a good martial arts school to join, but the result was disappointing, to say the least. Some were clearing just looking for money, others were just beginners class or full of shit. He was decidedly Not going to entrust his life to skills taught by "Kevin's Kung Fu" school. Call him shallow, but he didn't even bother to more than watch through the window before he turned right around and left.
Maybe he'd have better luck at in China town?
'I'm not racist. I'm just..cautious. Yes, I'll just scope it out, I'm being a smart and informed customer. I'm NOT stereotyping, and I'm not racist'
It was with such thoughts in mind, he got off the train station at Downtown China town. If he was lucky he could find an actual respectable school, if not he could get some bomb-ass dumplings. It was a win-win. If he was really lucky he could find some of the more notable martial artists in Marvel.
Paying for a steamed meat bun from a street vendor he took a tour around the area. It was quite interesting. In his neighborhood everything was structured, long streets, clear cut pathways, and numbered signs. Here it was almost an entirely different world. Pipes hung overhead, everything was interconnected, colorful graffiti sprayed over entire alleyways, yet there was a strange sense of serenity. A method to the chaos. Potted plants decorated rooftops and balconies, it was crowded without the hustle and bustle of downtown.
Unfortunately, he wasn't very lucky as in less than an hour since his arrival trouble had found him. while sightseeing the area he had took the wrong turn and ended up lost in the concrete jungle. Buildings towered over him on all side and he hadn't the faintest idea of where he was. As he was about the turn back and retrace his steps he had came across the scene of a man being lynched.
An older of around his mid-50s laid bloodied on the ground. As he was about to sneak off and call for help one of the mobsters had turned around and seen him. They stared at each other in silence for a few moments before the man's surprise wore off and he shouted out.
"Shit, hey kid, you didn't see anything here, got it? Just run along now." He was a skinny man with a shaved head and a goatee, but his attempt to let John leave the scene of the crime was interrupted by the man to his right, a large man of at least 6'0 in height and a portly figure. He slapped his companion before pointing a pocket knife directly at John.
"What are you? Stupid? Don't let him get away!"
The group's stupor was broken by the shout and John took that as his cue to run away. He didn't get very far though as a knife found itself buried within his calf. The pain and surprise lead to him falling on his face and the gangster took their time to approach him. He was surrounded in seconds.
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Although his face was blank, his eyes were wild and bloodshot as he tried to find a way out of his situation. Crawling back, he bumped into a wall. There was no way out. Was this how his second chance was going to go?
Dying by some fucking cannon fodder?!
No, he refused to let it end this way, to go without a fight. He watched the men as one of them slowly approached him. He was a skinny one, probably weighing no more than 110 pounds. As the man reached out a hand to grab him he whipped his hands out and clamped them on his wrist. A great heave ensured the man's face slammed into the wall behind because. The quickly pulled him down to the ground and took a deep breath before pulling out the knife and brandishing it as a weapon.
"Don't move!"
His bloodied knife was placed close to the man's neck. This was it. It was all a gamble now, if they valued their comrade's life he could negotiate a way out. He'd probably have to never enter China town again in case they look for him or send out a search, but he'd live.
If they weren't the kind to care about their friends or viewed it as a dishonor than he was screwed.
Everyone held their breath and stared dumbfoundedly at this scene. A 12-year-old boy had just taken a member of their gang hostage at knifepoint. What the actual fuck?
"If you want your friend to see the sunrise tomorrow, back off and clear a path. I'll take the old man too." He tried to keep the quiver in his voice as quiet as possible. If he showed weakness he was done for.
As the thought sank in their faces all changed. The others turned grim and winced at how they got into this predicament while the 'leader' the one who had ordered the other around turned red in the face.
"You have some balls kid, threatening out Ironback Gang like that. How about you put down that knife before someone gets hurt?"
"Oh, man, you're giving me such a scary look Mister. It'd be quite the shame of my hand slipped, wouldn't it?" a small shout of pain and panic came out of his hostage as he felt the sting of cold steel over his throat. Droplets of blood oozed down, although unbeknownst to the group most of the blood was from himself and the wound in his leg.
He gave them all a wide smile.
"Alright kid, you won this one. Lee! Chen! Grab the old man, give the kid what he wants."
Two goons from beside the man went and roughly grabbed the old man before tossing him next to the pair. He gave a quick frown at the act but quickly pastured on his wide smile.
"Thanks! I'll be taking him now, and I'll release your friend once we're close to the exit. Stay 30 feet away, and once I leave we can all forget this ever happened!"
He could see a vein pulsing on the fat man's temple, but he pointedly ignored it. Thankfully the old man wasn't unconscious and could walk on his own, albeit slowly and limping.
John almost shouted in joy as they slowly went towards the exit. He couldn't believe that worked! He was so immersed in his relief that he made a mistake, one that proved most fatal.
He had let his guard down.
The old man had stumbled and tripped, and John had taken his eyes off the gangster for a brief moment in his concern. That moment was all it took. His hostage had seen the look in his boss' eyes and knew he had to take a chance or else there would be hell to pay even if he escaped his crazy brat. He suddenly jerked himself and used his superior reach and mass to slam John into the ground and twisted out of his grip. He had earned a long cut across his cheek and right ear for it, but he had gotten out.
His groan was cut off short by a kick to the ribs that flipped him onto his back. His knife had slid across the alley and ended up beneath the boots of one of the mobster how quickly pocketed it.
A heavy stomp to his right hand elicited a scream from him that the boss of the gang drank heavily from, and it was with sadistic pleasure the man grinded his heels in even more.
"There we go, now we don't need to worry about your hands slipping, do we now?" The large man taunted him. That was the only thing he could remember before pain consumed his every thought as the men took out their frustrations and anger on him. The humility they took was returned ten folds upon him. It seemed to last an eternity when it was suddenly stopped, and screams of pain not his own echoed through the alley.
"Shit- It's The Guardian! Run!"
In his barely conscious mind, he could only think that someone must've left a Bruce Lee movie on while he went into a forced slumber.
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