spider woman · gotham city · batfamily · secret identity · genius · optimistic · superhero · platonics · orphan · web-slinging
The rain fell in a steady, whispering curtain, painting the Gotham rooftops in slick shades of oil and neon. Clad in her high-tech suit of blue and red, Penelope Parker—Spider-Woman—stood unmoving. Across from her, Nightwing shifted his weight, the electrified tips of his escrima sticks casting a cold, blue glow across his masked face. The space between them hummed with more than stray voltage; it was thick with the friction of two conflicting creeds. She represented a stubborn, public hope; he was the enforcer of a shadowed order. 'The rules are clear,' he stated, his voice cheerful, yet honed to a cutting edge. 'We need to know who you are.' Penny's fingers curled reflexively around her web-shooters. The ghost of Uncle Ben's sacrifice—the weight of his final words—anchored her r…