Post by METTLE on Nov 20, 2021 1:30:33 GMT
"Nobody will bother us. After you."
Mettle held the door for Spider-Bite. He'd requested Asian food and David had selected one of the nicer teppanyaki grills in the Bronx, where the chef prepared the meal in front of the guests on an exposed grill. As they'd walked to the restaurant from the river, after their fight, Mettle had allowed the silver to creep back into his skin, supplanting flesh with liquid iron. He didn't leave himself vulnerable for more than a couple of moments, and it wasn't Spider-Bite he was worried about. It'd just become more natural for him to remain in his powered state at all times. Being without it was like being hit by a flashbang. His senses weren't as sharp, and he could be hurt by any ruthless opportunist who trailed him.
There were people out there in the world who would go to those lengths. Enemies.
He didn't sense that Spider-Bite was one of them.
Mettle was well-dressed again, as he had been before the skirmish. A simple dark suit jacket, collared white shirt, and dark pants, along with a leather belt with an understated silver buckle. He didn't expect the superhero to change out of his costume into something more inconspicuous. The way he could morph it, though, he supposed he could eat. The attention they drew was quickly quieted down. He was a regular site in the neighborhood, and nobody was worried; their attention returned to their food. From one point of view, this restaurant had just become the safest place in the Bronx.
David adjusted his watch on his wrist, tightening one of the straps a bit until it was less snug. He'd washed Cassidy's blood off his hands in the river; the non-stick iron skin shone again.
He split a pair of chopsticks and did not rub them together, as so many people did. Most didn't realize that doing so is actually seen as rude, because it implies they are of cheap make and would have splinters. Instead he placed them to the side.
Then he put his hands together, fingers laced, thumbs touching at the tips.
"Kore told me you were a good guy once. She's a good judge of that kinda thing," he smiled.
Mettle held the door for Spider-Bite. He'd requested Asian food and David had selected one of the nicer teppanyaki grills in the Bronx, where the chef prepared the meal in front of the guests on an exposed grill. As they'd walked to the restaurant from the river, after their fight, Mettle had allowed the silver to creep back into his skin, supplanting flesh with liquid iron. He didn't leave himself vulnerable for more than a couple of moments, and it wasn't Spider-Bite he was worried about. It'd just become more natural for him to remain in his powered state at all times. Being without it was like being hit by a flashbang. His senses weren't as sharp, and he could be hurt by any ruthless opportunist who trailed him.
There were people out there in the world who would go to those lengths. Enemies.
He didn't sense that Spider-Bite was one of them.
Mettle was well-dressed again, as he had been before the skirmish. A simple dark suit jacket, collared white shirt, and dark pants, along with a leather belt with an understated silver buckle. He didn't expect the superhero to change out of his costume into something more inconspicuous. The way he could morph it, though, he supposed he could eat. The attention they drew was quickly quieted down. He was a regular site in the neighborhood, and nobody was worried; their attention returned to their food. From one point of view, this restaurant had just become the safest place in the Bronx.
David adjusted his watch on his wrist, tightening one of the straps a bit until it was less snug. He'd washed Cassidy's blood off his hands in the river; the non-stick iron skin shone again.
He split a pair of chopsticks and did not rub them together, as so many people did. Most didn't realize that doing so is actually seen as rude, because it implies they are of cheap make and would have splinters. Instead he placed them to the side.
Then he put his hands together, fingers laced, thumbs touching at the tips.
"Kore told me you were a good guy once. She's a good judge of that kinda thing," he smiled.