Definitely not how he wanted to spend the night. He’d heard the night life in the city was something else, but he really wasn’t expecting a fist to his face that soon. It wasn’t the usual bonfires and showmanship of Inhuman abilities like when he was a kid. No, New York night life was a lot more aggressive. That might have been due to the fact that he went nightlife hunting during what he assumed qualified as a bad time, but he didn’t really want to think about specifics. It took a special sort of asshole to think a wandering man and his dog were an easy target. Reader was anything but an easy target. The instant he felt a hand try to slip into the pouch on his hip, he reacted with a warning swing of his staff. Whoever the hell it was had a quick recovery time and a fist clipped the Inhuman’s jaw. He sighed and held his staff in front of his chest before inclining his head as he heard someone else approaching from up ahead.
“All good,” he said with a dismissive hand motion. “There’s no problem here, just a bit of a misunderstanding.”
Reader wasn’t big into fighting strangers without a really good reason and normally, he’d let a thief off with an easy warning and a smile. The punch to his face just wasn’t cool. He struck again, banking on the thief still being in front of him, and cashed in. Turned out he was right and his staff made a resounding ‘thump’ on the thief’s skull like a parent reprimanding a bad kid. His mother had done it once and it had been pretty effective as far as he was concerned. With her hand, of course. Not a heavy wooden staff made for combat situations. The thief hadn’t been expecting retaliation from a blind man or an audience apparently and they took off past him. No wandering hands that time. He rubbed at his jaw and tapped his finger against the small cut.
“Huh, guess they were wearing a ring. Rude,” he muttered to himself before reaching down to pet Forey’s head. He had a feeling he wasn’t alone still, from the way his dog tensed beside him. “Still there? Fair enough. Don’t happen to know a place I can get a meal, do you? Or a drink, at least? Somewhere dog friendly would be stellar.”
Harry Osborn was born and raised in New York City, and he truthfully thought that he had seen it all. The city had overcome a hefty amount of strange happenings that had gone seemingly unexplained ------- there was an entire month when every inhabitant was thrown back into the seventies, there were mutants and other supernatural beings walked the streets, and a webbed superhero thing roamed the city daily. He liked to think that he would be prepared for anything since Oscorp had enough equipment to deal with almost any conceivable destruction, but what he didn’t expect was to be walking down the street and encounter something firsthand.
He managed to stay hidden in his tower through most of the tragedies and unusual occurrences of the past few months, so witnessing an attempted robbery seemed, although minuscule, a little frightening. He glanced ahead to see one of his security men pushing through a crowd to approach the situation, but he shook his head and gave him a look of confusion when the victim of the attack reacted just as instinctively and violently.
The thief ran in the opposite direction, and he knew that another of his security men would catch the man and bring him in. He waved in his security’s general direction, giving his permission to do so.
Harry was suddenly alone with the stranger, butt now that the situation had died down he felt anything but relieved. He considered that he may have been attracted to the adrenaline he felt when the incident began, but after a few moments of thought he realized the real reason he stayed so close.
At the first sight of trouble, he hoped that he’d see a particular vigilante come to the rescue. It disappointed him when he didn’t see the red suit swinging from buildings toward them.
“It’s New York City. There are restaurants and bars every ten feet from each other.” He looked from the man to the dog, confusion still etched across his face. There was still a chance that Spider-Man might pass them at any given point, but Harry had never been a fan of small talk, so he tried to remain as polite and sincere ( despite his constant state of annoyance ) as he possibly could until there was no longer any chance of him seeing Spider-Man in person. “There’s a bakery ------ Joe’s. They’re the best in the city.”
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