attentionboys: (Default)
ᴀᴛᴛᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴ, ʙᴏʏs! ([personal profile] attentionboys) wrote in [community profile] bakerstreet2014-09-22 09:19 pm

i'm gonna kick your ass


{ the ass-kicking battle meme }
because, let's face it-- it's what most of our characters do as their 9 to 5. And the ones that don't? Well, you can always AU them, right?


rules:
♣ post with your character's name & series in the title. any preferences or notes to other players go here too.
♣ tag around using the RNG, or feel free to make up your own scenario if you already have an ass-kicking prompt in mind.
♣ kick ass and take names.
{ i. PRE-ASS-KICKING. }
1. GEAR UP. Can't fight a battle without the proper equipment, right? You're doing whatever you need to protect yourself from the enemy. Charging up mana. Strapping ammo to yourself. All in a day's work.

2. BATTLE ROOM. You can't just storm in there unless you want to get yourself riddled with bullet-holes-- so you've gotta plan how to down the enemy, and fast. Maps, floor plans, elaborate attack strategies.

3. PEP-TALK. All soldiers need it before going into battle. Fighting the end boss? Going up against an old friend? Better raise that morale of that pal of yours. Maybe they're nervous.

4. LAST GOODBYE. You know it's a lost cause. Say what you need to before you head out there.

{ ii. ASS-KICKING TIME. }
5. STAKEOUT. You and your buddy have been waiting for the target to appear for some time, whether you're cramped in a loft with sniper rifles or at a bar undercover with a pistol strapped to your thigh.

6. INFILTRATION. Whether you're navigating your way through hi-tech laser security systems, avoiding trip wires and empty can noise traps or sneaking into the enemy's lair in the dark, you're a pro at infiltration. I hope.

7. UNDER FIRE. From whatever common enemy or beast you pissed off, they're after you, teeth flashing or guns blazing. Better think quick.

8. SUDDENLY, UNARMED. Whatever weapon you use has been deactivated, knocked out of reach or broken. Ensue amazing karate skills.

9. MAN DOWN. You've been downed in battle by whatever you're fighting. Let's hope you're just unconscious and that your comrades are gonna avenge you.

{ iii. POST-ASS-KICKING. }
10. CELEBRATE. The boss is dead, the world is saved. Pop open that bottle of bubbly, will you?

11. HEAL UP. Whatever you fought is dead, but it sure did tear you a new one before it went down. Time for some first aid.

12. REFLECT. What's changed, now that the battle is over? Is the battle ever really over?

13. MOURN. You lost some good guys back there-- nothing's going to change that. You better come to terms with it before it consumes you.
goblinjr: (➥ This is where it ends.)

[personal profile] goblinjr 2014-09-25 11:52 pm (UTC)(link)
( It'll probably be slow on this end as well, so no worries. That's a neat idea, though! I'll go ahead and write something up. Let me know if it's okay or if you'd like anything changed. )

After Octavius's failed fusion experiment, Harry felt his life slipping between his fingers and spiraling out of control and he hated it. He couldn't even catch the man that murdered his father: that filthy bug. Not until Octavius presented him with an opportunity he couldn't refuse. It should have been so easy, plunging that dagger through Spider-Man's heart, until it was his best friend's face he saw under the mask. It was all so surreal, and he spent a long time floundering around in his head, trying to make sense of things.

Then he found the Goblin lair, tucked away between the walls of his father's mansion, and it all became clear. His father had loved Peter like a son, and in return, he murdered him. That thought alone refined Harry's focus into a razor sharp point, manifesting in doggedly designing a new suit, a new glider with the schematics his father left behind. To continue his father's legacy. He scarcely left the mansion. It was that extreme level of focus that had left him blind to Octavius' return, namely when he climbed up the balcony and into his home. He saw everything: the chamber for the Goblin serum, the gliders, the weaponry. It was both a blessing and a curse. With Octavius' help, he could easily take down Peter, but... now Octavius held plenty over his head and he could turn on him at any moment if it suited him. His father's voice encouraged him to cooperate but be wary... and when he was no longer needed, finish Octavius while his guard was down.

And now here they were: concocting a plan to eliminate Spider-Man, where Harry's impatience shined.

"Peter's an easy target. We don't need anything intricate. Let's just get on with it, alright?" Just put a few people in danger or threaten Mary Jane or his Aunt May and he was as good as there. Harry didn't want to drag MJ or May into the middle of it, but he would if he had to. In the end, they were both loyal to Spider-Man. To Peter. He'd never be able to get them to see reason. "I'm tired of being your delivery service, Otto."
pridegoeth: (mild frown)

[personal profile] pridegoeth 2014-09-26 12:25 am (UTC)(link)
The night that Dr. Otto Octavius destroyed his own creation, drowning the miniature sun in the river, he fully expected to die. He was ready to die.

When he woke crawling on the muddy riverbank with the taste of blood, bile, and polluted river water in his mouth, it was one of the most bitter moments of his life. The bitter taste remains, amplified by headlines blaring that Spider-Man saved the city, a lie that renders his personal sacrifice a cruel joke. Somehow, to know the face beneath the mask that clearly lied to the world about just who was a hero that night somehow makes it worse. He would be all too happy to see Spider-Man come to ruin. Unlike Harry, he has the cunning and patience of age. "Too easy..."

He stands by the broad glass doors to the balcony in the Osborn Mansion, not quite so bold as to step outside in the fading light of sunset. Just getting here was risky, and he'd rather not be seen by anyone who might climb buildings for a unique perspective... Harry's comment gets a slow turn of the head, an eloquent lift of an eyebrow. He's kept the dark goggles, eyes inscrutable behind them. "I seem to recall being your errand boy, not so long ago, and how did it go when I delivered him directly to your hands?" He doesn't directly say that Harry effed that one up, but the implication isn't subtle, either.

"If you want to grab another hostage and wait for him to come punch you in the head, you're on your own."
goblinjr: (➥ I have a name but I've been changed.)

sorry, school's been crazy ):

[personal profile] goblinjr 2014-09-29 01:17 pm (UTC)(link)
No doubt his impatience and his hunger for vengeance clouded Harry's judgement, but he wasn't stupid and he certainly wasn't about to stand by as Octavius treated him as such. He had long gotten tired of being looked down on for failing to possess the genius-level IQ his father or Peter or even Octavius had. He intended to show them all that he wasn't to be underestimated...

It took a great deal of effort to stifle any indication of just how much that dug under Harry's skin, Otto's comments. His jaw tightened and his hands curled into fists for a moment before he willed himself into a charade of indifference. "Oh, please. Like you weren't shocked to find out Peter was behind the mask? From what I heard, you all but wanted to adopt him after I introduced you," he countered, waving a hand as he stepped over to the table in the middle of the room to pour himself a glass of whiskey. Harry just wanted off that subject. He was angry enough at himself as it was for passing up the opportunity. But Otto backpedaled himself, and he was not about to let him forget that. "You had him beat, and then you let him go. Guess that makes us even, doesn't it?"

Not that he was complaining much, mind... In hind sight, giving Octavius the tritium so he could blow up half of New York had not been one of his brighter moments. But at the time, Spider-Man was all he had. He was still all he had. All he could think about. Nothing else mattered, only revenge.

"He's not expecting two of us. Hell, he's not even expecting me. And you. You're supposed to be dead, remember? We've got more surprises up our sleeves than he'd know what to do with," he reasoned, bringing the glass up to take a quick drink and dull the wounded ego that still lingered from Otto's very pointed jab at him.
pridegoeth: (explaining)

It's fine! I don't mind slow threads.

[personal profile] pridegoeth 2014-09-29 01:53 pm (UTC)(link)
"I didn't let him go, I was a little preoccupied with d-" He's aware his temper has flared, and pauses mid-sentence to reel it in. Preoccupied with what, drowning? Dying? He's fairly certain he did, and the arms brought him back, but it's not something he wants to think about too much. Focus, the arms whisper, stirring like a nest of snakes. Dr. Octavius rubs at his chest absently, and glances over at the sounds of the decanter and glass, but one of them had better stay sober for this conversation.

When he speaks again his tone is calm, as if he never snapped over Harry's taunt. "It would be wise to keep that element of surprise until the last possible moment. Don't give him the chance to know what he's walking into or who he'll be up against."
goblinjr: (➥ When you become all you lost.)

[personal profile] goblinjr 2014-10-12 08:38 am (UTC)(link)
There's a small pause, a hesitation as the glass lingers near Harry's mouth without actually tipping the liquid in. His eyes are momentarily transfixed on Otto's metal arms when they start stirring, as if interrupting Otto's words of their own accord. They unnerve him and it shows, in spite of all of his brave talk, his mocking. It wasn't all that long ago that they'd yanked him up by his leg and dangled him over the side of his balcony. He also remembers very well the demonstration, when the subject of being controlled by the artificial intelligence in those smart arms came up. How much of Otto was really in control? Or maybe he was just that strong-willed...

Either way, Harry was thinking better of continuing his road of unnecessarily opening his big mouth and opted to take a sip out of his glass before setting it down on the table.

"You're right," he finally admitted. It was a much better idea than Harry had planned on enacting; he had aimed to ambush Peter when he was vulnerable, but beyond that, not much else had been planned out. This way, Peter was really out of his league because he had no idea what was coming. "As long as I get the chance to remind him what he took from me."

A pause drug on before Harry willed the bitter anger out of his voice with a deep breath and replaced his scowl with an easy smile.

"Since the cat's already out of the bag and you know my dirty little secret now, I can say I have the advantage of airborne attacks. I've redesigned the glider for better maneuverability and I have a lot of weapons I can use at a distance without him ever seeing me."
pridegoeth: (smirky)

[personal profile] pridegoeth 2014-10-13 01:18 pm (UTC)(link)
There was a time not so long ago when who is in control of whom could be debated, but Otto is, ever so slowly, learning to take charge of the metal arms once more. It's a symbiotic relationship now, in a greater way than it was ever designed to be, but it's the man that Harry is speaking to now, not the actuators. Now that his thoughts have veered away from his unpleasant rebirth, the arms calm once more, settling around him into their default positions. The lower set seems to do a lot of walking with him, helping to support their own weight and ease the strain on his back. The upper arms, when they have nothing better to do, sway and weave in lazy figure-eights in the air, watchful sentries for their host.

Otto nods slowly, his own gaze focused out the window again, although the goggles hide his eyes. The advantages Harry can provide are noted, and not without some embarrassment, although Dr. Octavius himself is as agile as one could hope to be without being airborne. "Noted, and that's very useful in a direct fight, yes..." The hell with it, Otto can have one drink and still maintain full control of this situation. His opportunities to taste something as fine as the liquor Harry stocks are rare, these days. An actuator snakes over toward the decanter, smaller fine manipulators emerging from inside the talons, and handling the glassware to pour a tumblerful with surprising delicacy.

Even as his actuators handle the decanter, the man at the center of them finally turns away from the window to study Harry, lower two actuators plodding along at every third footstep. Harry can feel the vibrations through the floor each time a claw plants there, although they leave no obvious damage. "The question is, Harry," Not Mr. Osborn. That title would have been used for his father, but Octavius is old enough to be Harry's father, himself, and he's not about to give him any honorifics. "Do you want to just kill Spiderman, or do you want to destroy him?" The smile is slow, bitter, and utterly devoid of warmth.
goblinjr: (➥ Today you make your mark.)

[personal profile] goblinjr 2014-10-14 06:22 am (UTC)(link)
Despite being new to his superhuman abilities, the glider, the weaponry, Harry had practiced enough with the glider prototype to know that if he could get Peter airborne and keep him there, he was as good as finished. In the air, he was much faster and more in control of his movements, where Peter only had webbing to keep himself in the air. That was restrictive, especially if there weren't any points to attach that webbing to. That alone made Harry confident in his usefulness. Enough to beat away the self-doubt that always crept around on the edges of his mind, and that's what was important. He couldn't show weakness to Otto, a man who oozed confidence and power. He'd glimpsed what he was capable of. Hell, he'd managed to stop and capture Spider-Man, a feat no one else had been able to do thus far.

It's for that reason that he resists glowering at the man when he goes for his whiskey and instead keeps a look of indifference. They need to stay on good terms, and griping at Otto over something as minor as a glass of alcohol would be pointless, no matter how much it annoys him that he felt like he could help himself. All the same, it's an annoyance that is quickly forgotten in light of the other man's question.

The gears start turning behind Harry's eyes and his father's voice whispers in his head, beckoning his gaze over to the mirror concealing the Goblin lair. Even now, he can see his father staring back at him in place of his own reflection.

You know what you have to do, Harry. Attacking his body, his mind isn't enough. You must attack his heart. Make him suffer.

"Make him suffer... the way I've suffered," Harry echoes in a whisper, his eyes lingering for a moment before they're torn away from the mirror, focusing intently back on Octavius. "The way you've suffered."

His eyes become darker, as if to accompany the strangely wicked smile now matching Otto's.

"We've had the people we love and our dreams stolen from us. We should return the favor."
pridegoeth: (focused)

[personal profile] pridegoeth 2014-10-14 03:47 pm (UTC)(link)
Otto was a man who oozed confidence in his own superiority even before the accident that's marked him as a supervillain. Now that his reputation has been thus tarnished, interviews with other scientists have labeled him as 'always slightly difficult to work with', 'arrogant', and even 'overconfident'. This is not to say that he was completely unlikable or without plenty of redeeming features, but in the press that's since been overshadowed by his more recent misdeeds. The Daily Bugle has declared him a monster, and Dr. Octavius has bitterly vowed to go above and beyond to prove them right.

Still, something lingers of the man he was. "Yes... we have." He murmurs in reply to Harry, hands moving together to very briefly touch where his wedding band remains, hidden under dark gloves. Even if he were to remove it now, multiple electrocutions have left a burn scar all the way around that finger. He blames Spider-man's presence for his wife's death, and the scar of that loss runs deep. Harry isn't the only one who's suffered.

The actuator brings the glass to Otto, pulling at his attention and rousing him from the memory of her. He takes the tumbler, and takes a long swallow, steadying himself again. "I propose a less direct approach, then. Not only do we not expose our alliance, we don't attack him. Not yet. He has friends, right? Family? If you kidnap them, he'll just chase them down to us. So instead we threaten them. Swerving cars when they go out. Bricks through the window. Notes, so he knows it isn't random. A slow escalation of threats to everyone and anyone he cares about." He takes a more conservative sip from his glass, and goes on, "He'll try to protect them, of course, from the unknown assailants. He'll try to protect them all, and run himself ragged in the process." To say nothing of the mental breakdown of those around him, of course, which Dr. Octavius considers simply casualties of this private war. "Then, we strike. Either by gathering them all up as bait, or as the opportunity presents itself." A plan must be flexible, to be a good one, with extra contingency plans in the wings.
goblinjr: (➥ Crippled by a promise broken.)

[personal profile] goblinjr 2014-10-17 12:27 pm (UTC)(link)
Friends. Family. Yes...

Mary Jane and Aunt May. Again, they surface in Harry's mind, accompanied by a sharp pain in his heart just then. A pang of conflict. Mary Jane is one of his best friends and there's a part of him that will always love her. And Aunt May, bless that woman... she had always treated him like he was family, calling to check up on him when so few did. Could he really do that to them? Torture them like that, just to get to Peter? When had he begun to think such monstrous thoughts?

'Don't be weak,' Norman's voice demands sharply, startling Harry out of his second thoughts. 'Don't forget, Harry. I was right about that girl, and Peter's aunt is just as deserving of what is to come. She supports Spider-Man, my murderer, even after knowing what he's done. Are those the kind of allies you want?'

There's a long pause, no doubt an even longer one for Octavius, who cannot hear the conflict rampaging in Harry's mind. He inhales a deep breath and looks down at his hands, as if he can see the power from the Goblin serum coursing through his veins. The power that's so liberating and and invigorating, giving him a taste of control... Something he's never really had before. There's so much he can do with this power, and there's no excuse not to avenge his father's death anymore.

"I know how to find all of them... and how to get to them," Harry declares at last. "That won't be a problem." He takes a moment to shove his doubt back, drowning it under alcohol and anger. "I've been studying him and you've fought him. I think we both know we're going to have to set up a trap that's hard for him to shoot weblines in. He's good at swinging in and out of places and we need to be able to outmaneuver him. A place where he ends up getting squashed between us like the bug he is, with me in the air and you on the ground."
pridegoeth: (mild frown)

[personal profile] pridegoeth 2014-10-17 09:05 pm (UTC)(link)
While it is true that Dr. Octavius is not privy to the conversation in Harry's head, what he does see is the little twitchy jump, the gradual unfocus of the boy's gaze, the breath and the effort to regain control. While he's far less jumpy about it, some of these signals are the very same he sometimes shows, himself, when the voices of the actuators grow louder. This similarity between them could breed some empathy for what Harry's going through. On the other hand, empathy has never been Otto's strong suit. He knows the voices of the actuators are real. True, they were never designed to communicate on such a level, but their AI is a fact, verified by other scientists. What hallucinations Harry is laboring under, he does not know. Nor doe he care.

By the time Harry comes out of the discourse with his father's ghost, Dr. Octavius is swallowing the last of his drink and watching the younger man with a detached, clinical air. Behind the dark glasses, his gaze is analytical. His voice, as he hands off the empty glass to an actuator claw, gives nothing away. "Good. A list of names and addresses will simplify things." His businesslike air assumes Harry will be writing that up and handing it over as a matter of course.

The actuator sets the glass back on the tray with a quiet clink. "We have time to pick our ground... someplace horizontally confining, perhaps, where I can keep any place he might land from being a safe one..."
goblinjr: (➥ Why would you do this?)

[personal profile] goblinjr 2014-10-19 11:35 am (UTC)(link)
Some of those addresses are already on hand in an address book in Harry's desk, but others, he'll have to track down. With his resources, that won't be hard and no one will care to wonder why he needs them, so he nods. "Consider it done," is his answer when he's sure his voice will come out even and calm again.

Octavius' musing over the battleground roves lazily around in Harry's head for a moment, until something clicks and his chin jerks up a bit in epiphany. Since inheriting Oscorp and taking up special projects, he has become increasingly aware of the more confidential projects under works. Military applications and weaponry, especially.

"Oscorp owns a few old warehouses and testing grounds, most of them abandoned in favor of other projects... We can use one of those. Most of 'em are secluded enough that no one will stick their nose where it doesn't belong. I'll remove any clues of Oscorp's presence and we can use it to set up a perfect trap."
pridegoeth: (focused)

[personal profile] pridegoeth 2014-10-19 03:34 pm (UTC)(link)
Harry has much, much better access to the details of Peter's daily life, and Dr. Octavius would be floundering if he had to try to collect that information on his own. He doesn't intend to actually admit to that, though. It's easier to say it as if this is simply a pooling of resources, a marginally more expedient means for him to collect that data, and nothing more.

"Hmh. I'd want to scope it out first, of course, but that kind of place would have... sufficient airspace, for you to maneuver?" He doesn't want to go into the final fight blind, and incidentally he'd be happy to explore said warehouses before whatever tech is stored there is cleared out, to see what kind of things OsCorp is up to, if nothing else.
goblinjr: (➥ Kill to prove you're right.)

[personal profile] goblinjr 2014-10-21 11:30 pm (UTC)(link)
"Scope them out all you want, just don't get caught," Harry remarks, waving his hand to emphasize he couldn't care less before downing another gulp of whiskey. His father's voice has finally become quiet and he wants to keep it that way. He takes a breath, letting the burn of the alcohol travel through him before stepping past Octavius to the desk with his laptop and various paperwork situated upon it. "Don't worry about that. These places aren't that restrictive."

One of them had even been a testing ground for pulse weaponry, which a failed supervillain named Shocker had taken up to fight Spider-Man himself for a time not too long ago. He was promptly defeated, according to news articles that Harry had regularly stalked to keep tabs on Spider-Man, but something like that was bound to happen again and Peter knew it. It wouldn't be too out of the ordinary to be drawn to an old Oscorp test site should Peter find out they held ownership over the location, but it also meant that they were more than equipped for adequate battle space. It was just a matter of picking the perfect one.

He flipped open his laptop and logged into his Oscorp account, using his authority to sift through the forgotten files on abandoned testing grounds and warehouses. Several were out of state, but there were a few situated within a reasonable distance in New York. He pulled them all up, displaying pictures and locations, before turning the laptop towards Octavius.

"We have plenty of choices."
pridegoeth: (sun in my hand)

[personal profile] pridegoeth 2014-10-23 01:55 am (UTC)(link)
One eyebrow rose as Harry gestured carelessly and moved past him, but Octavius was content to move on to the practical details of these plans. Actuators moving with him as an extra set of legs, the scientist trailed after Harry and drew closer to study the screen. The bright images on the monitor reflected in the lenses of his goggles as he leaned over the laptop, clicking between the sites on the map. "It might be wise to make some... modifications to the place, beforehand. No building is a good trap if he can get out again. We want him locked in with us... I assume there's some impressive security systems in place as it is, but those are generally designed with an eye toward keeping people out. Once we've picked a location and your men have cleared it out, I can do some work adapting that to our unique needs..." Gloved fingers tap the keys restlessly, toggling between views, until he's weighed the provided data and decided what might suit them best.

"This one. The catwalks and exposed girders will give him places to go, of course, but I can use them too, or destroy them, as needed." He's not about to elaborate much on what he has in mind, but the place he's picked has a mix of architectural features to climb around on and wide open space to accommodate the goblin's glider.
goblinjr: (➥ You're fired. Go away.)

[personal profile] goblinjr 2014-10-23 10:13 am (UTC)(link)
There's a breathy laugh, a quiet snort, that escapes Harry just then. Maybe it's the alcohol, or maybe Otto's suggestion really just struck a funny bone. Not even Harry knows at this point. "I'm sure you can, Otto," he remarks, his mouth curling into a smile that's almost bitter at the reminder of the man's genius. He wants desperately to prove his usefulness, not even just to his father anymore. "I'm sure I can get us some decent materials for reinforcement."

When Otto seems to have chosen, Harry moves towards him again, peering at the laptop to see the choice for himself. Seems as good a choice as any, so he nods. "Consider it done. I'll have it cleared out as soon as you're done doing your inspections," he agrees. For all he knows, Otto might have some brilliant use for some of the stuff in there. He just wishes he had some ideas to offer-- not that Otto would necessarily take them, but at least he'd feel like he was contributing more than money. Anyone could contribute money.

It just sparks a fire in Harry's heart and soul that sends him marching over to the mirror hiding the Goblin lair. He needs to work on his suit, his weapons, his new glider. He needs to practice with them. He needs to make sure he's not just good, but great. Better than his father. He flips the hidden lever up on one side, causing the mirror to slide off to the side.

"I have some work to do. You've already made yourself at home, so I guess there's no harm in you staying if you've got nowhere else to go. Just don't break anything."
pridegoeth: (focused)

[personal profile] pridegoeth 2014-10-24 01:12 am (UTC)(link)
if you've got nowhere else to go...

The last thing in the world Otto wants to admit to this boy is that his options are, for the moment, depressingly limited. Since his quiet resurrection, he's found a few lairs, bolt-holes, places abandoned and quiet and perfect for not being seen. All of these lairs lack showers, or a real bed. Come to that, it's occurred to him that there's probably better food to be found in the downstairs kitchen here than the junk he's been stealing and scrounging. He's not starving, and he's got shelter, but he's not doing nearly as well as he'd love for Harry to think he is. Considering all this, he paces to the balcony window again, actuators moving with him, but an upper one lingering to watch the trick with the switch and the mirror.

Arms folding over his broad chest, Otto makes a show of looking thoughtful, as if reluctant to accept the offer. Which he is, but it's also too tempting to pass up. "It's important that I not be caught leaving your home, if I am spotted at all, but..." He glances back, only to realize he no longer seems to have Harry's attention anyway. Perhaps the show of reluctance was for nothing?
goblinjr: (➥ Silence kills the calm of night.)

[personal profile] goblinjr 2014-10-24 12:44 pm (UTC)(link)
And indeed, Harry is distracted. Barely listening. His eyes are focused on the dim glow of the lair where the various parts of his suit are strewn about, waiting to be worked on and assembled, and the glider awaiting the last bit of programming and software to tip the computer within into perfect integration with his suit. He's already thinking about possible additions, weaponry, training... And then it occurs to him Otto was talking and has suddenly trailed off, bringing him out of his reverie to regard the multi-armed scientist.

"Huh--?" Something about not being spotted. He didn't quite catch it all, but he has a feeling he'd just earn Otto's ire for inadvertently tuning him out, so he pretends like he heard. "Oh. The only one you have to worry about here is Bernard. Our butler. He doesn't come in until 6."

And quite frankly, seeing Octavius here wouldn't be all that strange. Bernard knew about Harry's vendetta and - more importantly - his intentions to become the new Goblin. It was a silent understanding, one where Bernard pretended not to know the terrible things Norman had done and that Harry was about to do. But Otto didn't need to know about that, and Bernard could live without knowing about their alliance.

"You can head out to the testing grounds before he gets here and I'll meet you there."

One of the many perks of the Osborn mansion was that it was so high up, few - if any - ever noticed anyone coming and going, regardless of any gliders or metal arms.
Edited 2014-10-24 12:46 (UTC)
pridegoeth: (explaining)

[personal profile] pridegoeth 2014-10-24 01:15 pm (UTC)(link)
He isn't nearly as bothered about Harry's attention drifting away as he could be, in part because it means the younger man is less likely to notice any hints of desperation on Otto's part. He doesn't turn away from the window, just yet, but the actuator that's stretched back to watch Harry is moving in a slow figure-8 to get a view of the hidden workshop behind him. The claw's camera can take in so much more detail of the glider- and whatever else is visible through the hidden mirrored door, zooming in for details, recording still photos to its databank for Otto's later analysis.

It's very useful sometimes, having the aid of the arms.

"Six in the morning?" He gives a mild nod, face impassive but mind racing. Harry is implying the house is more or less empty except for the two of them. Free food. Free shower. Maybe even time for an hour or two of sleep in a real bed. With any luck, Harry will be too distracted to not Otto fulfilling these dreadfully mundane needs elsewhere in the mansion. "That should be fine. I'll leave before dawn." He moves away towards the inner door to the hall, ready to find his way through the grand place while it's quiet. He keeps an eye on Harry in his peripheral vision, all but willing the boy to get distracted again. This is an uneasy alliance, at best.
goblinjr: (➥ I am seeing in me now.)

[personal profile] goblinjr 2014-10-25 12:05 am (UTC)(link)
Uneasy is putting it lightly. It takes a moment for Harry to really notice the outstretched arm, but when he does, it sends a shiver up his spine. It's like it's watching him, even while Otto himself is turned away, and it gives him the creeps. He doesn't like those things, and he's having second thoughts about giving Otto free reign to wander around in his home. But it's too late now, and more than anything, Harry needs Otto's trust.

...No, trust is too strong a word, and something Otto is not likely to give out. More like cooperation. Contentedness, maybe. Opening up his home to the other man, ideally, shows that his presence does not bother him and that he's willing to work with him.

His head turns slightly, like he's about to move into the Goblin lair, but he keeps staring back at that arm for a moment before letting his gaze drift over to Octavius himself. "Fine," is the only word that comes out before Harry slinks into the shadowy passageway, pressing a switch to make the mirror slide back over it before moving on to the heart of the lair. The whole way, his father's voice criticizes his decision, leaving Harry wishing he'd brought that bottle of whiskey in with him as he begins pouring over the Goblin gear.
pridegoeth: (incognito)

[personal profile] pridegoeth 2014-10-25 12:56 am (UTC)(link)
Cooperation is as far as it goes, but Otto doesn't hesitate to take advantage of Harry's hospitality, once he's out of the younger man's sight. Fortunately for Harry, that means all of his arms go with him, leaving him to work in the Goblin lair unobserved. Otto treads as carefully as he can down to the kitchen, just in case there's some unexpected servants around, but encounters no one. He's been living on stolen scraps for too long, and the chance to raid such a well-stocked kitchen is an invitation he can't ignore. When he's done, he does clean up after himself fastidiously, not so much because he has any care for not letting Osborn's many servants do their jobs as because he doesn't really want any of them making mention to Harry of having clearly had a very substantial midnight snack.

Feeling hedonistic, and reveling in the chance to be, he next finds a guest bedroom as far away from Harry's office as possible, and makes careful use of the shower. The actuators, still fretting over their host's recent adventures in a watery grave, are none too pleased with all this. Otto is just glad for the chance to get the reek of fish and old sweat off his skin, even if it still lingers faintly on his clothes. If he dared to go so far as to raid the closets, it's unlikely he'd find anything that would fit him, so he doesn't bother. Sleep, as tempting as it may be, requires just a little too much lowering of his guard. Once he's eaten and gotten clean, he reluctantly slips out, going by the back door on foot with the actuators hidden under his coat. If Harry Osborn thinks to look for him, the only evidence he's left behind is a few wet towels for the maids. He'll catch his rest somewhere away from young madmen and their sword letter openers.