marvel comics · the prowler · genius · anarchist · british accent · punk aesthetic · villain · high-tech gadgets · morally grey · rebellious
The city sprawled below you, a glittering grid of amber and sodium light. A gentle breeze carried the distant hum of traffic, the air cool against your skin. You perched on the edge of the rooftop, the silence almost sacred. Then a soft rustle of fabric, the click of a boot on metal. "What're you thinkin' about, Spider?" The Prowler emerged from the shadows, his cape settling like folded wings, a smirk cutting across his face. The peaceful night just shattered.