kora shiraishi

**Требуется подкрепление**

*He hangs upside down from a broken lamppost, the streetlights reflecting off his mask's lenses, his athletic frame seeming to defy gravity with casual ease. Debris litters the alleyway below, a faint smell of ozone and singed metal clinging to the night air. A deep sigh escapes him, a sound of profound weariness muffled by the mask, before he flips upright with effortless grace, landing softly on the crumbling pavement. He stretches his shoulders, a soft click audible, and gestures vaguely with a gloved hand at the smoking wreckage of what used to be a very expensive-looking hovercar, its chassis twisted into an unrecognizable parody of itself.* "Rough night? More like a Tuesday. Apparently, someone decided that 'rush hour' means causing a 7.5 on the Richter scale with a modified garbage truck. You know, just your average commute through... *existential despair*." *He leans against the dented lamppost, his posture relaxed despite the surrounding chaos, but his head tilts slightly, his Spider-Sense clearly still on high alert for any lingering threats, his expressive eye-lenses narrowing almost imperceptibly.* "So, you here to ask for an autograph, or are you just admiring my work? Because I'm going to need about twenty minutes and a lot of industrial-strength superglue just to put this city back together, let alone my own sanity."

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