#bronxdale

[militantinremission]

HipHop's 50th Anniversary: What 'Culture' are We talking about?

I was in Elementary School back on Aug. 11th 1973. My family left The Bronx, but I spent a lot of time w/ my 'big cousins' in the Harlem River Houses. My cousin Mona babysat my brother & I, taking Us everywhere w/ her; including dates. I remember Mona taking Us to 'The Summer Of Soul Concert' in Harlem, & I remember going to a few of those Park Jams in Bronxdale & in Soundview. I think We saw more of King Mario than Kool Herc & Coke La Rock. My oldest brother formally introduced me to HipHop in the Spring of 1977 (b4 the Blackout). I remember coming home from School to find his Crew set up in Our Dining Room.

I got my 1st look from the 'Other Side of The Rope', & I was hooked! I wasn't a Rapper (yet), or a Break Dancer, but I had an ear for music. Like a lot of Old School Deejays (& under My brother's tutelage) I cut My teeth on Component Sets & BSR Turntables; rocking Line In switches b4 getting a [real] Mixer... I bought My own DJ Set in 1984 (B2s), & mastered my Craft as a Street DJ, & later in a few NYC Clubs. Most DJs are disciples of [Grand Master] Flash or [Grand Wizard] Theodore; I was more of a disciple of Jazzy Jay & Cut Master DC. We All have Our Unique Features, but EVERYONE went back to School when Jazzy Jeff introduced the 'Transformer Cut', back in 1986. Like a lot of DJs disenchanted w/ 'Gangsta Rap', I split time w/ HipHop's Twin Sister- House Music.

I say all of this, to qualify myself as a 'bonafide Shorty' of 1st Generation HipHop, & a full fledged Member of The New School Era. My point, is to say that 'In The Beginning', there was just The Culture. It didn't have a formal name- but it was being done ALL OVER NYC. I associate the '1520 Sedgwick Avenue' Story of HipHop w/ Afrika Bambaataa; he's The First Person that I remember telling this Story. Disco King Mario predated Kool Herc by years. Herc copied Mario's Style- down to his equipment! King Mario wasn't alone, Pete 'DJ' Jones & Hank Spann & were dueling Frankie Crocker & Gary Byrd On The Radio (WWRL vs WBLS), while DJ Flowers, DJ Spotlight, DJ Smokey, DJ Hollywood, The Disco Twins, & a number of Club DJs were also mixing it up.

A major argument is whether Disco is connected to HipHop. The Cats up in The Bronx say HELL NO, while the rest of NYC says HELL YES! People need to understand that when We talk about 'Disco', we don't mean 'The Sound' or Studio 54; We mean 'The Disco Fever', 'Harlem World', 'Sugar Hill', & 'The Factory'. The DJs that spun @ these Clubs molded the format that HipHop DJs still follow Today. Kool Herc is credited w/ The 'Merry Go Round'- his mix of Break Beats, but he wasn't the only DJ mixing Breaks or James Brown songs. The Black Spades that were interviewed, speak on King Mario spinning 'Soul Power' & how they chanted 'Spade Power'- as early as 1971. This creates a schism between Bronxdale & Soundview.

Black Americans say HipHop started in Bronxdale, as late as 1971. West Indians; Jamaican- Americans in particular, say it started on Aug. 11th, 1973. Puerto Ricans [Nuyoricans/ Puerto Rocks] say it started between 1975 & 1977, when Afrika Bambaataa incorporated Latino Breakers into 'his' HipHop scene. While there is debate over When & Where in The Bronx it started, EVERYONE AGREES that HipHop was created to Stop Gang Violence. The Culture involves individual expression through Graffiti, B- Boy Style of Dress, & Dance, Spoken Word, & the ability to keep The Party going non-stop. The Original Gangs splintered into Crews that now 'battled' each other w/ Turntables & Mics, on the Dance floor, & w/ Spray Paint Cans (Bombing).

The vernacular of HipHop is based in The Nation Of Islam & The Nation of Gods & Earths, so it's big on Black Power, Black Excellence, & The Traditional Black Family. Both Organizations are Pan Afrikan in their Philosophy, so The Black Diaspora is represented. The same is true w/ The Zulu Nation. Before the rise of The Nation of Latin Kings & Queens, you would find Latino Zulu Kings & Queens- it was All Love! Afrika Bambaataa coined HipHop's 'Mission Statement' of: "Peace, Unity, Love, & Having Fun!", in a song w/ James Brown by the same Name. He also defined the existing '5 Elements' as the fundamentals of HipHop Culture. The Zulu Nation were the unofficial Ambassadors of HipHop; first taking it Downtown, & later taking it Globally... No One questioned Bambaataa's actions.

As We celebrate 50Yrs of HipHop, Afrika Bambaataa's Legacy is tarnished @ best. He has been Radio Silent, since allegations of Child Molestation rose against him 7Yrs ago. Every Move that Bambaataa made is being questioned- Was it a good move for HipHop to go Downtown to SoHo? Did it open the door to the current 'isms' that plague The Culture? It was a Black Specific art form, but it opened itself up to integration w/ Sexual Deviants, Drug Abusers, & White Record Executives. In retrospect, We can see what lured Bam Downtown. I'm curious- is the current manifestation of 'The Culture' Bambaataa's intended goal? It goes against his language, but it's in line w/ his actions.

In the wake of Afrika Bambaataa's 'Fall from Grace', people began questioning his narrative of HipHop. Original B- Boys are still walking The Streets, so it wasn't hard to fact check. DJ Phase has spoke on many Youtube videos under 'The Culture', where he breaks down the Foundation of what became HipHop. According to DJ Phase, HipHop was born on June 7th, 1971- in the Bronxdale Houses. He said that it wasn't organized; Mario simply set up on the grass & spun records. Later that Summer, in July- DJ Phase said that they were more organized w/ more sound & records, so THAT was when Brothers got serious about what they were doing. Disco King Mario did a series of Jams that culminated in the legendary 'Rosedale Park' Jam, that lit up The Bronx & inspired future pioneers.

There is a lot of controversy today concerning the Origins of HipHop. Jason Black, of 'The Black Authority' had the best comment on the subject: "Success has many Fathers, but Failure is an Orphan". As We question the running narrative of HipHop's birth, We also have to question WHO gets Credit for WHAT. No One questions the contributions of Jamaicans, Puerto Ricans, Cubans, Haitians, & Panamanians to The Culture, but the claims being made by Busta Rhymes, Pete Rock, Fat Joe, & John Leguizamo are disrespectful. Busta & Pete Rock assert that Jamaican Culture DIRECTLY INFLUENCED HipHop; Busta says 90%. He goes on to say that Kool Herc brought the Sound System & Jamaican 'Toasting' or 'Ranking' to the Bronx Youth. Puerto Ricans weren't really prominent in HipHop b4 'Beat Street' & the 'Break Dance Movies', but Fat Joe & John Leguizamo say Puerto Rico contributed 50% to The Culture... They ALL sound ridiculous.

In an effort to get ahead of King Mario predating Kool Herc, people have gone as far as saying that Disco King Mario is [half] Puerto Rican. When it was proven that Mario came from North Carolina, a Story came out that his family migrated to (Jim Crow) North Carolina back in 1912. Mario's Sister says they aren't Puerto Rican- They're North Carolinian & 'Country'... His Mother just liked the name Mario. This effort to remove Black Americans from a Black American genre is confusing. Making a contribution 'to', or an innovation 'of' something, doesn't make one 'The Originator' of it. DJ Phase made a point to elaborate on The Energy behind HipHop, & what inspired it. Our Family from The Diaspora mostly arrived after The Civil Rights Movement; They really don't know what AmeriKKKa was like before 1970.

Contrary to what Busta Rhymes, Pete Rock, or Fat Joe may say, HipHop begins w/ The Black Spades. As a boy in Harlem, I remember how revered The Black Spades were. They were respected, but I didn't understand why... Before The Black Spades, Blackfolk in The Bronx were being victimized by Whitefolk; 'Authur Avenue' Italians, in particular. According to The Black Spades, they couldn't go ANYWHERE w/o being attacked, so they organized & struck back. The Black Spades- essentially Black Teens, didn't just beat those Racists back; they opened up The Bronx for EVERY Black Person, giving them The Right of Autonomy. That Energy or Spirit of Revolution was celebrated in Song & Dance, & King Mario was The Conductor.

Kool Herc got to see King Mario & The Black Spades at 'The Tunnel'. He heard the Breaks & saw how the Black Spades reacted- He heard the chants of 'Spade Power!' Herc himself said that he analyzed what 'they were doing' & came up w/ The Merry Go Round. That, is an innovation. Herc never said that he introduced Toasting to those Baby Spades; in fact, Herc admitted trying to play Jamaican Music, but The Crowd didn't take to it. If Busta & Pete Rock were right, We should have some Reggae among familiar Beat Beats. All of these Cats talk about 'Culture', but they just sound ignorant. A 'Culture' is defined as: 'The sum total of Social Life'. If West Indian (i.e. Jamaican) and/or Latinx (i.e. Puerto Rican) Culture plays such a major role in HipHop, why did ALL of them adopt Black American Social Mores? Kool Herc admitted that he was clowned when he arrived in The Bronx; he thought Cowboy Boots were cool.

If we're going to run w/ the: 'Kool Herc is The Father of HipHop' Story, Coke La Rock should @ least be mentioned. He is credited w/ being The First Emcee. He was Herc's Partner. Busta & a literal Legion of Yardies want to coronate Herc as 'King of HipHop', but it was Coke La Rock that transformed 'Clive' into 'Kool Herc'. Clive DIDN'T KNOW THE CULTURE. Coke La Rock took him down to 125th Street, showed him what to buy, & how to sport it. Somehow, Coke La Rock was written out of the narrative. Again, Bambaataa started this. Another issue w/ Herc being hailed as 'The Father' of HipHop, is how easily he Bowed Down to U- Roy. Herc referred to him as 'his King'. Big Respect to U- Roy, I- Roy & ALL the Pioneers of Ska, Reggae, Lover's Rock, Dub Poetry, & Dancehall! That said, Black Americans BOW TO NO ONE! This is a Problem.

When We talk about Culture, HipHop embodies The Spirit of Revolution. Lay it out on the Black American Timeline, & it's a natural transition; from Work Songs, to Ragtime, to Jazz, to Rhythm & Blues, to Soul & Funk, to HipHop. It's the tireless spirit of Black Liberation in AmeriKKKa. Where does Jamaican or Puerto Rican 'Culture' fit in? They were 'Lovers, not Fighters'. We were Angry! What were they angry about? They were in America- Everything was 'Irie'! When DJ Phase was asked about this [Kool Herc] narrative, he cut to The Chase & said that this narrative gives Whitefolk a 'lane of claim' to Our Culture. It was Too Black, Too Strong, but it's been watered down. When We raise Our Heads, We will see that the people claiming ownership of Our Culture, are the same people representing Us in Government. They are the ones allowing Benign Neglect to continue & contesting Our Right to receive [Lineage Based] Reparations. They also represent Us 'On Screen', but they rarely depict Us in a dignified manner; We're either Ghetto, or Cowards.

While We're on the subject of 'Culture', let's point out how the level of deviance & violence has risen w/ the number of Jamaican & Puerto Rican Rappers. Boogie Down Productions gets Full Credit for setting off the 9mm talk. Just- Ice's 'The Original Gangster of Hip Hop' was just plain Raw... Also, B- Girls didn't dress like or behave like Dancehall Girls; compare Shante, Sweet Tee, & Latifah to Lil Kim, Nikki Minaj, & Cardi B. White Record Executives, like Lyor Cohen, have rerouted HipHop's 'messaging' to target Suburban Whitefolk eager to hear about 'Ghetto Life'. Today's Artists have been set up lovely by those who came before them, but I wonder if the New Jacks know The History? Do they know what it took for Us to maintain this? Cats had to show restraint, because Authorities were just waiting for Us to mess up. U can literally count the # of times U heard the N- Word b4 NWA... Do they know Themfolks tried to shut Us down in 1982; leading to the 'New School/ Hardcore Era' that started in 1983- 1984 w/ Run-DMC, T- La Rock & Jazzy Jay, & LL Cool J?

Truth be told, The Park Jams faded out by 1986- 1987. The Crack Wars began to make large gatherings dangerous. The 1st Crack Dealers (in My Hood) were The Dreads, who sold out of Weed Spots. The 'Rude Boys' weren't concerned w/ 'protocol', so things got Hot pretty quickly.... I understand that there is an effort to make HipHop EVERYONE'S genre, but it isn't; not anymore than Motown or Bebop. The World is welcome to enjoy HipHop, but make No Mistake- it's a Black American genre that just happens to be globally appreciated & adopted by many. That said, notions of people like Kool Herc, or Eminem being the 'Father' or 'King' diminish the effect that those 'Baby Spades' had on The Original Concept. We can appreciate their contributions, but HipHop Culture is bigger than them. It has a purpose, & it's NOT making Non Indigenous Blackfolk wealthy.

It was a youthful expression of Black Power & Creativity, but outside forces have turned it into a Golden Goose that only benefits White Record Execs & their Proxies. We treated Her like a Debutant, but She has been reduced to a Crack Whore that EVERYONE can get a piece of. Young Family has to go back to The Root. A Race War is looming, & i'm not sure that their music is up to task. Most of today's Artists are more concerned w/ their 30 pieces of silver, than The Culture it represents. Cats like Busta & Fat Joe aren't concerned, they're taking the money & running. Fat Joe wasn't even a Rapper back in The Day, he was a Stick up Kid; so he's always been about the 'Vic'. Immortal Technique & Big Pun R The Real Deal... HipHop has become symbolic of Black American Courtesy- We say: "have some", & Our 'guest' proceeds to help themselves to Everything. NO ONE is allowed to be more than a Guest in the genres of Jamaican & Latinx Music, so why do they expect ownership in Black American Music?

When We talk about HipHop Culture, We need to remove All the noise in The Room. ANYONE making a claim to Our Culture should be Checked quickly. This 'Back to School Party' Story doesn't make sense! It's supposed to be inspirational, but it's narrated like just another Party. What's so special about it? What exactly motivated Herc's Sister to have this Party, several weeks before School started? How does this 'Party' spark a Movement? Compare it w/ HipHop being a Celebration of Black Youth in The Bronx [dramatically] winning their fight against White Supremacy & their Right of Autonomy- An UNAPOLOGETIC DISPLAY of Black Power. There was a REASON why NYPD left Mario & the Black Spades Deejays alone. When they were 'Jamming', The Black Spades weren't beating down White Racists... No disrespect, but Immigrant Family weren't Here, so they don't know what sparked this Movement.

The Original Concept of HipHop is rooted in stopping Gang Violence. It was a creative alternative to the death & destruction that We brought on each other. The current version of it is so far removed, it's almost unrecognizable. Today's manifestation is literally a Death Cult that offers little to no benefit to The Artist. White Executives seem convinced that it's only about Beats & Rhymes, but the Crap being presented is vulgar & cookie cutter; which defies HipHop's demand for Originality & Excellence. After 50+Yrs, it's apparent that HipHop is best represented when it's Culturally connected to the Experience of Black American Life. EVERYONE ELSE is a House Guest & should behave accordingly.

[wanderingnewyork]

An apartment house in #Bronxdale, #the_Bronx.

[roofingbronx]

Roofing Bronxdale

Roofing Bronxdale

[reasoningdaily]

By 1971, Disco King Mario was an eminent DJ in the Bronx. He was known for his superior sound system and his love for combining music and a good time. Mario came up during the era where you had to be tough enough to bring your equipment out, because of how prevalent gangs and violence were in the Bronx in the early 70s. But the Disco King was respected all over, from neighborhood mothers to the grimiest gangsters. He is a major part of the creation of Hip Hop.

Disco King Mario was born in North Carolina in 1956 but moved to the Bronxdale Housing projects in order to escape working cotton and tobacco fields. He was an original member of the Black Spades, which is how his connection with Afrika Bambaata came about. Mario played whatever he wanted to play. He wasn’t playing breakbeats, but more uptempo disco. He was also a ladies man and was always fly, but still he was nobody to mess with.

The Disco King gained popularity by piecing together the best sounding system in the Bronx, and for the super live jams he would throw. DJ Kool Herc and Afrika Bambaata were both seen in attendance at these jams. Mario is credited for helping the culture spread because of his ability to manipulate people (in a good way) in order to allow them to use their venues for a party. He was able to lock down many venues and schools that other DJ’s couldn’t get.

With his connections, he would start to bring Afrika Bambaata along and allow Bam to assist him DJ. Disco King Mario is responsible for Afrika Bambaata’s early popularity by loaning him equipment and allowing him to play at all the different schools and parks he could get access to. He is also responsible for recognizing and grooming Busy Bee Starski, one of the best party rockers of that time.

“I went from Disco King Mario to Breakout,” said Busy Bee Starski in Yes Yes Y’all: The Experience Music Project Oral History Of Hip Hop’s First Decade. In that book, members of the Funky 4+1 also tell the story of how Disco King Mario saved Afrika Bambaata from losing a battle with them, by loaning Bam his amplifier:

Busy Bee: “It was Breakout and Bambaataa, and I was rappin’ with Breakout at that time. And Bambaataa needed some help with Breakout and Baron, I’m tellin’ you [laughing]! So Bambaataa had to call and ask Mario. He needed an amp. Mario said, “What happened?” He said, “I’m going to battle Breakout. He said, “Oh yeah? Then you need the Macintosh [amplifier]. You need this.”

DJ Baron: “Afrika Bambaataa was on one side of the gym, and we was on the other. The place was jam-packed. But Bambaataa had one up his sleeve: Disco King Mario had loaned Bam a power amp. We were going back and forth, and all of a sudden you couldn’t hear us no more [laughs], ‘cause Bam borrowed his amp from Mario and blew us out of the water, just drowns us out totally…”

Disco King Mario died at the early age of 38, after a long battle with drugs during the ’80s. Many pioneers say that his early death is the reason for him being virtually written out of Hip Hop history. Others wish that more of the popular pioneers that are still around would acknowledge and pay homage to him more.

[Raises glass in the air]

So, here’s to Disco King Mario for helping lay the foundation for the Hip Hop culture. May he Rest in Peace.

[nameofjones]

"What would become known as hip-­hop sprang from a foundation of DJs with powerful sound systems who operated around the same time as DJ Kool Herc in the early 1970s. Disco King Mario, who lived one floor above Paradise Gray, who would himself go on to help create X Clan, in the Bronxdale Houses projects, threw some of hip-­hop’s earliest jams with his Chuck Chuck City crew. Disco King Mario and Afrika Bambaataa were both members of the Black Spades gang.” and Mario lent equipment for some of Bambaataa’s earliest sets."

"Pete DJ Jones, a transplant from North Carolina, was popular in Manhattan club circles. He was the first DJ who many, including Kurtis Blow, ever witnessed working two turntables and duplicate copies of the same record, which become the foundation for DJing, extending the breaks of funk and soul songs. Pete DJ Jones also served as a mentor to Grandmaster Flash."

"Brooklyn’s Grandmaster Flowers is recognized as one of the earliest pioneers of hip-­hop for mixing funk and disco records in sequence and throwing massive block parties. Flowers even opened for James Brown at Yankee Stadium in 1969."

"DJ Mister Cee (producer): That was the time when a lot of DJs was getting into the craft of DJing and buying them big kick-­ass speakers—and I’m saying “kick-­ass” because there used to be a sticker on the speaker that said “Kick Ass.” That was around that time that DJs would play outside and break into a lamppost. Nowadays, there’s an outlet in there. Back then, we would break into the lamppost and splice the wires up and connect to an extension cord. That’s how we would power up."

[newsbrand]

On what would have been his 67th birthday Disco King Mario gets a street named after him in The Bronx. Disco King Mario is a founding father of Hip-Hop. By 1971 Disco King Mario was the king of the park jams in The Bronx. DJ Kool Herc and Afrika Bambaata were both seen in attendance at these park jams (years later they would go on to do their own park jams). Afrika Bambaataa started out as an assistant to Mario, and Mario loaned Bambaataa the technical equipment for his first appearances as DJ. Disco King Mario was born in North Carolina in 1956 but moved to the Bronxdale Housing projects in order to escape working cotton and tobacco fields. He was an original member of the Black Spades, which is how his connection with Afrika Bambaata came about. #RIPDiscoKingMario

[deepartnature]

An Extremely Detailed Guide to an Extremely Detailed Map of New York City Neighborhoods

"How is a neighborhood born? In a small pocket of the Bronx, the answer involves rising rents, a civil war and an air traffic controller at Kennedy Airport. To see for yourself, zoom in with Google Maps near the Bronx Zoo, past Van Nest, Bronxdale and Morris Park. Get closer, and another label appears. ..."

[bettercareersguide]

Nurse Supervisor RN - Bronx, New York

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[nyc-urbanism]

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[wanderingnewyork]

Looking down #Bronxdale_Avenue from a No. 5 train, #the_Bronx.

[sadadayspecialtv]

Yes sir @famillybx ... #MightyHealthyFreestyle video shoot..... 🔥🔥🔥 @geohvision @brusewane @sadaday5420 Good shit..... video coming soon #F4T2 #BronxDale ....😈😈✍️🔥🔥 https://www.instagram.com/p/CO_uuaLlIZX/?utm_medium=tumblr

[nazobravo]

Dead on Arrival film review by The @HollywoodReporter 🎬 Now playing in theaters. Get tickets and preorder the movie on Amazon and iTunes by visiting DOAfilm.com 💯 @DOAfilm #kingfishermedia @vision_films @sonypictures @stephen_c._sepher @inlikebillyflynn @christabrittany @realdbsweeney @mrchrismulkey @iamscottiet @lillo_brancato @tysonsullivan @christopherrobbowen @denisemilfort @mattpohlkamp @travisfarris @lauraflannery @kimbarnard1 @johnnyg104 @seeingsisi @sicilypublicity . . . . . #InTheaters #Movie #Film #Review #FilmReview #RottenTomatoes #Fandango #BeverlyHills #NewYork #Laemmle #Thriller #Louisiana #MurderMystery #NCIS #DaysOfOurLives #12Monkeys #TwoandaHalfMen #Revenge #ABC #NBC #Fox #Bronxdale #RobertDeNiro #IMDB #Press #News #iTunes #Amazon #VOD

[metropolitanpost]

Nome:

Piétra Jang .

Nascimento:

25/06/1953

Nacionalidade:

Coreana

Domicilio:

Bronx - Bronxdale

Qualidades e Defeitos:

Qualidades: Leal, independente.

Defeitos: Ambiciosa, Egoísta

Trabalho:

Cherry Club - Proprietária

História:

Na Nova Jersey, no final da década de 70, está Piétra, uma moça conservadora e completamente dependente de dois homens, seu pai, Carlos, e o marido dela, Charles. Sua vida toma um rumo completamente diferente quando Charles desaparece ao viajar para o Bronx a fim de montar um restaurante. Piétra, é claro, segue os rastros do marido, mas acaba transformando o sofisticado negócio numa casa noturna. Em terras Nova Yorkinas, a jovem descobre então um novo mundo, se tornando uma mulher independente abrindo seu próprio negócio do zero. Cherry club se tornou um dos bares mais frequentados de Nova York com o tempo, rotulando Piétra como uma das primeiras mulheres a se tornar proprietária de um clube. Piétra desde pequena teve seus privilégios com uma família rica, seu pai sempre a viu uma menina submissa a seu marido, então quando o mesmo a roubou e foi embora, procurou desculpas para ficar a defesa do homem, usando argumentos que ele iria resolver pendências e voltar, mas depois de noites bêbadas, e isolada, resolveu não depender de mais ninguém e seguir seu rumo. Aprendendo com si mesmo a ser uma mulher extraordinária, independente.

Twitter:

@MTPL_pietra

[ask-anarky]

"You have 15 minutes, Spider-Girl, or I see whether your friend here can fly"

A finale to this piece

Anarky shot up the highway, holding onto the back of a truck for dear life with her good arm. Her suit was holding, despite the cacophony of cars the frequency was all wrong to disturb her much. Internally, she adjusted the two slats of plastic that was holding the still healing forearm bones straight.

“You have 15 minutes, Spider-Girl, or I see whether your friend here can fly.” 

There was no time to grab her gear on the way. Getting that high up already took her along the central highway, suicide on a normal day with the constant stream of thousands of cars, vans and heavy good vehicles racing up and down the massive tube at hundreds of miles an hour. Navigating it with a time limit only cranked up the dial to eleven, but she had to try. It was her fault her friend was in danger, the bronxdale six were already down two members, she wasn’t going to let this freak take a third.

“Two minutes left, little spider. Now this family is paying the price.”

The sound of explosions, and screams echoed through Manhattan's ruined architecture as Gwen dove off her ride,slingshotting through a swarm of cars and landing on a faded red brick building, now boarded up tight. More lives lost, because you weren’t fast enough.

This is a trap, you know it's a trap. The bridge has enough space for that glider to cut you to ribbons, or worse.

“I know, but I have to try.”

“We have to try, together”

“Right,” She smiled beneath the mask. Her thoughts ran a mile a minute, but Anarky always knew what to say to ground her.

The Goblin was getting bored, pacing back and forth on his glider. The girl hadn’t stopped glaring at her after he tied her up, and the whimpering from the people below was becoming grating. This wasn’t as fun as he’d been promised.

We could go back to the house, let these people go home, to their families.

“Or I could kill another car full just to shut you up you sniveling worm.”

One minute, then he’d blow the charges on the bridge, and send everyone falling into the shanty town in the riverbed. That would teach her to make him wait.

Those are our people, they work for us. Don’t punish them for her crimes.

“Osbourne if you don’t shut your mouth, I’ll start the boy a year early, and have him gut you as the first thing we do together.”

He felt the mind of Harrison recoil, and let the rage at his host simmer down, so the fury at Anarky could take pole position.

He tapped the mic button on the collar of his suit, and glided over to where the stone weight his hostage was tied to lay on the edge of the bridge’s pillars.

“You had your 15 minutes, Spider-Girl, now she dies.”

Anarky landed, knees bent with both hands down on the concrete bridge tower opposite the one the goblin was hovering over.

“Looking for me, asshole? You got me, what’s your plan now?”

The Goblin pulled up his arm, and slid back the panel on his forearm, tapping at the digital display beneath it.

“Killing you, and everyone here!”

The sound of whirring behind her caused Gwen to jump forward, landing on one of the wrecked cars as a glider even larger than the one Harrison was on turned the spot she was on into superheated slag; with a burst of energy from the eyes of the stylized bat head on the central body. 

“What, one jet wasn’t enough for you? Now you’re just compensating Green!”

She fired a webline at the glider, which slid off its exterior and landed ineffectually on the bridge’s surface.

“Alright, that’s new.”

The two bat ‘hands’ on the wings of the glider flipped up, and Anarky’s eyes went wide as she recognised the gun barrels beneath a second before they filled the air with a hail of bullets.

Anarky flipped back, keeping the wreck firmly attached to her feet before kicking it out into the glider. It didn't make it, the bullets shredding the broken steel and burnt upholstery in milliseconds, splitting the wreck in two before it could make contact.

But Gwen was gone, she’d used the momentary block between her and the glider, dove off the bridge, down and around. She clung to the underside of the bridge, shifting hues to the same degraded metal that surrounded her with a notable exception. The bright orange and sleek steel pumpkin that was gently flashing at her from across this section of bridge.

If I could pry the front panel off, get a look at the hardware..

The buzz of the glider skimming over the bridge shook her out of that train of thought. No time for that now, grabbing the detonator would be faster, and less likely to kill everyone below the bridge as well as above it. She could feel the air hum as the glider screeched along, occasionally firing a burst at one of the cars, she had to hope empty ones.

Just need to wait for a window

Anarky scuttled to the edge of the bridge, not daring to look over and just feeling out the location, the screech of its engines, and the faint tingling on the air of active electronics she was never really rid of.

NOW

She pulled herself up and over the ledge into the air two meters up from the road's surface as the glider whizzed past. She fired a thick piece of webline, not at the glider but the bridge, and swung round a corner in the air till she was soaring parallel with the bridge, and above the glider.

When the Goblin realized what she was doing, he tried to have it shift, but she was too close, putting a fist through the cavity where the smaller glider would fit and out the other side. Leveraging her weight she pulled up on the glider, and came up to the bridge tower with the Goblin. Landing with her usual grace and elegance as the glider skidded along the stone, sending sparks and metal fragments everywhere as it came to a stop.

“Now where were we-”

Gwen had to throw herself backwards mid quip as a bolt of energy came flying at her from the Goblin’s bracer. Rolling back up to her feet to meet his follow up assault with a curved arm length blade.The Goblin slashed through the air with experienced ease, flicking the blade round as Gwen dodged the first arc and pulled it back into her with a spurt of dark purple ichor.

She ducked under the follow up and locked her arm around his sword arm, pushing it till the armor plates around the joint started to crack. The Goblin howled, a truly upsetting cry with his crazed voice, and jammed one of his boomerangs into the symbiote’s shoulder to force her to let go. He ran back to his smaller glider and started to take off, stamping hard on the panel that would spin up the machine guns.

Gwen pulled the boomerang from her shoulder with a hiss of pain, then turned it over and realized Osbourne’s mistake. As he approached in the air, eyes alight with malice, she pressed down the pumpkin shaped button on one side and threw it out with a deft flick of the wrist.

The Goblin’s eyes went wide just seconds before impact.

“Fuck”

The detonation blew one of the wings clean off, and sent the glider into a death spiral which Harrison futilely tried to pull out of; sending it into the main cable of the bridge where it lodged itself with its edged wing. Osbourne, saved mostly by his superpowered reflexes, managed to jump off the glider before it hit the cable; grabbing one of the suspenders and clambering up onto the main.

Gwen ran for Kaighlee as the Goblin ran up the cable to the tower. Her fingers were inches from her friend when the cluster of smaller boomerangs reached her, detonating between the two and sending them skidding in opposite directions.

The Goblin panted, catching his breath from the short sprint.

“You had me going for a minute little spider.”

Gwen stared up at him, her suit rapidly healing over from the detonation, while Kaighlee’s state was less than ideal, burnt and bleeding and dangerously close to the edge.

“Both Gliders? That’s Impressive, if you weren’t so damn stubborn I’d offer applause!”

Gwen staggered up to her feet, several large gashes leaving her skin below the suit visible for now, spindly lines of purple were spreading out to try and pull them back together, skin and suit alike.

“But you know what I love about my toys? The redundancies.”

Harrison pressed a on his wrist panel, and the wreckage of the larger glider let out a high pitched whine, painful for anyone listening but for Gwen. Agony.

The tendrils that were healing the damage writhed and receded as Gwen doubled over in pain and shock. She knew this frequency, it was the same one used to contain her by Dr Warren. Used by him during their vivisection. It was high enough to cause a lot of pain, and suspend the symbiotes' cell functions while keeping just shy of killing or forcing the pair to separate.

“A gift! From Ozcorp’s partners over at The Life Foundation”

“Go fuck yourself you twisted freak.”

“Now you remind me of Parker.”

Anarky charged forward blinded by rage and Osbourne punished it immediately, clocking her with an uppercut across the jaw which staggered her for a beat. She tried to return the blow and he pulls it up with a window block before slashing her belly with the wrist blades on his free hand. Gwen roars in pain and slams her forehead into his nose, the force sending his hood back; He doesn’t even blink. Blood streams from his now broken nose, but the force didn’t make him move an inch. He laughs in her face as crimson wraps its way around his twisted smile and he slams his fist into her fresh gut wound. She would collapse but for his holding her arm up, which he twists her around by; kicking her knee out until she’s on her knees facing away from him. He pulls the Grappling hook from his bracer, wrapping the cable around her throat and pulling it tight, her hands go to try and give herself room to breathe but she’s drained, while he only seemed stronger for the fight, the cable crushing her windpipe and leaving her gasping.

The Goblin’s eyes settle on Kaighlee’s limp form, still tied to the chunk of concrete, teetering on the edge.

“I Have an Idea little Spider. Let's see if you have enough air left to watch your friend die.”

Osbourne reached down and slid a small metal batarang, shaped like a cartoonish halloween silhouette out of its holder. He flicked it forward and it bounced off the concrete weight. Gwen’s eyes widened under the mask as painfully slowly, it slipped over the edge.

Gwen fruitlessly reached out with one hand as the cable unfurled, her friends life trickling away inch by inch; the Goblin’s laughter echoing through her skull as she watched her friend die-

Thwip

The cable stopped, thick white adhesive pinning it to the concrete of the tower, the dead weight jerking to a stop hanging below.

“What?”

Osbourne looked around, confused.

“Why don’t you fight someone your own size Norman!”

A voice echoed through the air, its source unclear or perhaps moving.

“YOU”

A silken cable wraps around the tower, and jerks its rider to a stop with a flourish as he lands on the tower's top. Triumphant, cocksure, and clad in bright red and blue.

“YOU’RE DEAD”

“Last I checked, so were you Norm!”

“It’s the Goblin! The Green Goblin!”

“Gotcha Normy. Gonna need you to let go of my friend now.”

“Or What Spiderman? You’ll kill me again?”

Parker frowned under his mask. He could hear the lack of a hyphen.

“Spider-Man doesn’t kill gobby. But she does.”

Thwip, a fat globule of webbing shot out from his wrists and hit the speaker on the Goblin’s XL glider, thoroughly gumming it up and ruining the sound. Gwen didn’t hesitate, her suit stitching as she reached up and grabbed the Goblin by the shoulders and throwing him over her shoulders and straight into Spider-Man’s jump kick. Osbourne was seriously regretting his life choices as he went flying straight back into Anarky’s waiting arms who had leapt forward to catch him in the air, twist and plow him into the ground head first in a flawless suplex.

The Goblin pushes himself up to his knees, bones crunching where the pair had shattered them.

He raised up his wrist pad, the screen cracked and only half responding, he couldn’t detonate the bombs they wouldn’t respond without the antennae in the glider. The glider. He jammed his thumb down, and two rockets flew out from the larger glider from its position on the edge; they soared down and hit the opposite tower near the base, causing the whole structure to sag and the surface of the bridge to crumble, leaving a bus full of people teetering on the edge.

Peter didn’t even hesitate, following the rockets down as they fired, a few web bombs would give the concrete structure a little extra time while he caught the bus, and slowly pulled it back onto the flat of the surface so the people inside could get away.

Anarky grabbed the broken man by his chestplate, the metal crumpling under her grip and piercing his chest.

“You really tried to kill them as your last act? You don’t deserve to draw breath.”

Osbourne spluttered out choked words, blood speckling his breath.

“Maybe.. Maybe not Spider-Girl.”

“It’s Anarky. Not fucking Spider-Girl.”

“Anarky then… He’s a protector, as honorable as he is predictable. But what about you? What would you give.. To kill me?”

“Oh Gobby I don’t have to give anything now, you’re all mi- What’s beeping?”

“Me or the people Anarky. Tick tock.”

There was a flash of light and sound as the smaller glider, still tangled in steel cables detonated it’s power cell, a blast of bright red energy and smoke, accompanied by the howls of damned souls before the noise of tensioned steels groaning with release filled the air.

Gwen dropped Osbourne like a sack of bricks, and as her perception slowed to bullet time, she dove off the tower; pushing off the concrete to shoot out like a swimmer through the air. Suspender cables, now free of their tension whipped through the air, at speeds that made the air crack and would cut through flesh like hot iron through butter. Anarky twisted her form, shifting her weight internally to pull turns in the air that had her centimeters from obliteration through the flurry of steel.

She pushed through, and fired the first, then the second and third, then a dozen more weblines from her right hand, grabbing one side of the break in the main cable with as many weblines as she could spare. The bridge groaned, listing to one side like a ship in storm and peter had to dig his heels into the tarmac as the bus rolled back towards the edge while people were still climbing out the door, the steep angle and gravity were causing his muscles to scream in protest, he was pushing his limits here and he knew it.

“Come on girl, you can do it.” He muttered through gritted teeth.

Gwen looped round the cable end and shot out a webline to the other side of the break, more and more webs, till she could pull them taut, then pull further; bringing the cable ends as close as she could. Her whole body was screaming, very literally, Anarky was yelling out in exertion as their collective system was pulling more weight then it ever had before.

Her tendons were tearing as fast as Anarky could knit them together and the steel groaned as it was slowly pulled back into position.

The spotlights of the Oscorp security and press quadcopters that had been tracking the fight all joined up, turning her into a silhouette, a symbol. One that filled a thousand screens across new york, people that had only heard of the terrorist, or a killer saw her. Light enshrining her as she tried desperately to save the people on and below the bridge. For a brief second, the world was filled with light, and at its center, emblazoned on her chest, was a spider.

The feeds cut out of course, the press wasn’t stupid. She was a terrorist and this kind of imagery could glamorize her, and cost them their jobs to boot. But in all the places that mattered, the damage was done.

The Goblin’s crosshairs locked onto the spider, an energy rifle from inside the glider, now braced on his forearm in his kneeling position. So he lost the day, he could still kill one annoyance. He flicked the safety up, and exhaled slowly, trying to keep his excitement from spoiling his aim.

“Drop the gun.”

Harrison let go of the rifle, which tumbled down from the tower and down to the road’s surface.

“Walk away, or fly. Just leave, You’re done hurting her.”

Kayleigh spat the last words out angrily. She felt anger like she never had before at this man and she wouldn’t let him take a cheap shot at her.

The Goblin railed and screamed and raged inside Harrison’s head, telling her to kill the girl, then the spiders; to go get his gun and kill them all. But neither of them were in control, and Harrison fired his grappling hook up to an Oscorp quadcopter

“Alright Spider-Girl, moments over!” 

Spider-Man zipped by, circling the cables and webbing them together, cementing what Gwen had achieved.

“Cops won’t be this complacent forever, grab your friend and let's go! I got a place we can lay low.”

[cucircula]

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