smash_stuff: (sleeping)
[personal profile] smash_stuff
The first thing he was aware of was the faint call of the seagulls. And one of them nipping at his hand.

An overwhelmingly familiar ache as if he'd been hit by a truck.

The prone figure groaned and shifted slowly on the sandy ridge near the water's edge. A half clad skinny man who's pants were frayed terribly at the cuffs, his shirt and shoes missing. Bruce shivered his way to a sitting position, his brain still fuzzy from what had happened before. None of it he remembered, but he knew what had happened.

Squinting in the afternoon sun, he tried to get his bearings. He was near the wharf but not so close to the city as to hear the noise from it. He was chilled to the bone from the damp and the seagulls were hovering nearby in case he turned into a snack. Fat chance of that, he thought dully as he struggled to a standing position. Thankfully for his feet, the rocks here were smooth by the tide and not painful to walk on, just awkward to keep one in a standing position. He moved slowly forward, not sure where he was or where he should go from here. Clothes and somewhere warm were a priority, to be sure.

There was a broken down warehouse nearest to him so he made for that, a hunched figure plodding along as if in a daze. It usually took awhile to recover from an incident. He made a startling picture of a drug addict if one were to glance at him going by. His ribs showing through his sides and his shivering in the cold. Yet there wasn't one mark, bruise, or cut on him.

It took both hands and some effort to get the door open, Bruce trudging inside and shutting the door on the colder air behind him. As he hugged his arms around himself, he noticed it was decidedly not abandoned in here. There was equipment in the middle of the large space, all of it circled around as if by the work of one individual.

on 2015-02-14 06:44 pm (UTC)
pridegoeth: (Sciencey)
Posted by [personal profile] pridegoeth
It's not your conventional, well-funded kind of lab, to be sure, but it's not a bad one at that. There are several worktables- some of them salvaged and recently reinforced with quick but decent carpentry. There are a few generators, both salvaged and home-made off of car batteries, soldering and welding tools sharing space with screwdrivers from large down to tiny delicate ones that might have come out of glasses repair kits. There's a couple of magnifying lenses and clamps of all sizes and kinds, wires and circuitboards and scrap metal. It's the workshop of a tinkerer who works in both large and small scale, and it's a cluttered space. A few chairs are pulled up backwards at the tables, and there are hand-drawn schematics and formulas on all manner of scrap paper. In short, it's all exactly the kind of stuff that's fascinating to anyone of a scientific mind.

There are also some junk food wrappers, empty soda bottles, fast food packaging, and an old mattress and ragged blanket in a dim corner. Whoever works here is the kind of scientist too devoted to leave the workshop to sleep.

on 2015-02-14 07:25 pm (UTC)
pridegoeth: (incognito)
Posted by [personal profile] pridegoeth
To be fair, the calculation he's working on there is in slightly scrawlier writing, and has what just may be a drool mark at the corner. Somebody falls asleep at the table as much as on that mattress.

If he's distracted enough, he just may not notice when the door is hauled open again. The man who does it is a little distracted, himself, muttering that he thought he'd locked it, and no he does not forget what he's doing when he's thinking about vice runs for oreos thank you very much.

On that note, he closes the door a little harder than usual.

on 2015-02-14 11:18 pm (UTC)
pridegoeth: (scowl)
Posted by [personal profile] pridegoeth
It also looks like the man who has come in like he clearly owns the place is very large, and has a couple of bizarre metal tentacles emerging from under his coat. He's tall and bulky, in a long ragged coat, with sunglasses on and a hat pulled low over his face. One metal arm is planted on the ground like an extra leg, while another holds, incongruously, a bag of shopping.

It only takes a few seconds for the heavy brow to knit in a scowl. "...Who are you?"

on 2015-02-15 02:13 am (UTC)
pridegoeth: (mild frown)
Posted by [personal profile] pridegoeth
"...Borrowing a cup of shirt?" One heavy eyebrow rises slowly. He may be annoyed, but he's not completely oblivious to how ludicrous the situation looks.

"If you've damaged anything..." At least he's moved away from the table, or he'd be having things snatched out of his hands now.

on 2015-02-15 03:00 am (UTC)
pridegoeth: (incognito)
Posted by [personal profile] pridegoeth
The second eyebrow joins the first one in going up. "...What do you know about isotopes??" He frowns again. "And who sent you?"

The metal claw holding the plastic grocery bag, delicately puts it into his flesh and blood hand, and the man stalks deeper into the room, still eyeing the intruder warily. Two metal claws coming from beneath his coat walk with him, making for a strange four-beat gait like some kind of mechanical centaur. He's not coming close enough to touch, but he does circle around toward the table Bruce was at just to make sure nothing there is out of order. Chemistry isn't his primary field, but he dabbles in anything and everything, and it's not helpful to have his research disturbed.

on 2015-02-15 05:03 pm (UTC)
pridegoeth: (explaining)
Posted by [personal profile] pridegoeth
He continues to scowl, leaning closer to peer at his own formulas, and noting the changes scrawled across it. His initial reaction is rage, but no- wait... the correction does look valid. He must have been close to passing out when he wrote that, because his ego won't allow that this random shirtless stranger might actually be better at it.

"Oh, of course." He says airily over his shoulder, distracted as he picks up the paper to study it anew. "You just wander on out of here. It's not as if you'll attract anyone's attention, stumbling around half naked, and then they certainly won't wonder where you came from and follow your trail back here..."

He looks up with a frown. "I don't think so. You still haven't answered my first question; Who. Are. You?"

on 2015-02-15 11:10 pm (UTC)
pridegoeth: (mild frown)
Posted by [personal profile] pridegoeth
"...Well you're not very good at it." He replies unkindly, if accurately. Intruding on somebody's private lair and messing with their stuff is not exactly inconspicuous.

"...Oh, for god's sake, I'll get you a damn shirt..." He sighs, and goes to rummage in a box. While his back is turned, one of the metal arms trailing from under his coat watches Bruce coldly, a camera lens fixed in the center of the tri-taloned claw. "Here." He flings a wadded-up shirt at the other man. It's got a big hole cut in the back and could probably fit two of Bruce in it, but at least he won't be wandering around half naked? "Put that on while I figure out what to do with you."
pridegoeth: (explaining)
Posted by [personal profile] pridegoeth
"...Not actively." Not anymore. He's made that mistake twice now, and both times it ruined his life, so he's not in a hurry to repeat the disaster a third time. On the other hand, so many years of his life were devoted to that project, he can't quite let it go. When he's not focused on some other project, again and again, he comes back to it and fiddles and tweaks and makes minor little experiments, refining and perfecting. Someday...

Someday he'll show them all he was right. And maybe somewhere Rosie will be looking on, and be proud of him.

He's frowning again as he studies the stranger, but what he's thinking behind those dark glasses is unclear. Now Bruce can clearly see there are four metal arms, two upper and two lower, extending comfortably now that he's safely indoors. One reaches up and removes the man's hat, tossing it lightly onto a table with movements that are at once both alien and casually human, but the sunglasses stay on. "I didn't know any scientists were wandering up the coast naked and breaking into other people's laboratories. Why are you here? And don't make me go through the whole journalist's list of W-words. I want answers."
pridegoeth: (mild frown)
Posted by [personal profile] pridegoeth
Poor Bruce is just batting a zero, and if it weren't repeating himself, Otto would point that out. There's a subtle air of menace from the man with the extra robotic limbs, so that's a fail on 'low stress environment'. It's hard to say if he's even controlling them at all, they look like living creatures, in the way they move and study the intruder, and then one of them gets distracted and wanders further out to toy with a pen on a table... and he's certainly been seen, assuming the big man isn't blind behind those sunglasses and just using the metal arms and their cameras to see for him.

"Don't run." He says with a sigh, catching the glance toward the door. "As I said, I'm not willing to risk being discovered, myself, and it would be tiresome to have to chase you down and kill you." He sounds tired, in the way he says it, but that probably doesn't make it any more reassuring.

"So, we're at an impasse, it seems..."

on 2015-04-23 04:30 pm (UTC)
pridegoeth: (smirky)
Posted by [personal profile] pridegoeth
The big man has expressive eyebrows, and they're both on the rise, now. He looks, in a word, incredulous. Then he laughs; not a villainous sound of triumph, or some unhinged maniacal sound, just a genuine and slightly wheezy laugh of sheer surprise. "Oh, yes, let me just get you an application to fill out! You did bring a copy of your resume and your ID with you? But considering where you'd have to be carrying them, I think I'll pass." He ends in a sneer, but the utter ridiculousness of the situation has hit him. It's been a while since he laughed.

Shaking his head, he moves a short ways to one of the run-down swivel chairs and sinks down onto it backwards, giving a little wince as one knee gives an audible pop. Arms folded overtop the back of the chair, he's at least slightly less intimidating, seated. In fact, with the metal arms coming off his back, this is the only way he can sit in a chair, and the slowly deteriorating state of his knees hints at how burdensome the metal arms truly are. "You can't be serious. Don't you know who I am?" His name and photo were all over the news, after all, but that was almost a year ago now, and Bruce just may have been otherwise preoccupied at the time.

on 2015-04-23 05:28 pm (UTC)
pridegoeth: (explaining)
Posted by [personal profile] pridegoeth
The frown is quickly mirrored, but likely for entirely different reasons. The struggle for recognition is one he's fought all his life, and as much as he loathed being recognized for his grandest failure rather than his many successes, having his name splashed across the news had been recognition at least. That somebody- a fellow scientist even! -should regard him as a nobody now was like a slap to the face. Dr. Otto Octavius no longer takes being slapped in the face without returning the blow. The actuators rise, snapping at the air and chittering softly as they pick up on his irritation.

"Stop that!" His head snaps to the side as he addresses the upper right claw, and if he looks briefly unhinged speaking to something attached to his own body, he's not really aware of it. The claws lower and retreat just slightly, chastised. "They were designed for use in the experiment you were... mucking about with, earlier. A third party made a ruin of the practical demonstration, however." His voice is calm again, almost icily slow. Bruce should probably watch his step, as the man with the metal arms seems to have an alarmingly mercurial temperament.

"My name is Dr. Otto Octavius." His name did appear in the occasional scientific journal, here and there over the past decade or so, before his life went off the tracks. Unfortunately what he would consider his versatility the scientific community tends to see as tinkering, rendering him regarded as not an expert in any specific field, no matter how ground-breaking some of his advances might be.

on 2015-04-23 06:44 pm (UTC)
pridegoeth: (sun in my hand)
Posted by [personal profile] pridegoeth
"...Something like that. And cheap, clean, nearly infinite energy for the world, even those who hardly deserve it..." He smiles thinly, but it's an improvement. Obviously he's bitter, but that's not really directed at the present company, and even just a little recognition of his name helps soothe an easily-wounded ego. The arms respond in turn, settling further, growing a little distracted again.

"So you have read something of my work, I take it... but you must have been... extremely preoccupied to have missed the news that followed my demonstration..." He's studying Bruce, still, but the air of menace is very gradually fading. Talking to Dr. Octavius can be a little like walking on thin ice, but Bruce is getting just a little to some kind of safer shore.

on 2015-04-24 12:41 pm (UTC)
pridegoeth: (Don't interrupt)
Posted by [personal profile] pridegoeth
Otto is equally slow to reply, considering, and that alone should tell Bruce his name holds some kind of recognition, too. Not that Otto has ever been good at paying attention to the news himself, usually buried in his work. "I see..." He looks just a little sour about it, feeling subtly one-upped.

"And I take it you're now on the run from the legal authorities, due to scientific experimentation... gone awry." *click* *ratchetclick* The actuators are quick to take an interest again, but like their creator their attitude is changing to one of thoughtful regard now, rather than outright hostility. Where the line is between their minds and his is blurry. "It would seem we have something in common...."

on 2015-05-19 04:46 pm (UTC)
pridegoeth: (focused)
Posted by [personal profile] pridegoeth
Otto has no love for the authorities, of course, and there's always the possibility Bruce was followed here, but if he was, it's too late already. On the other hand he came in after Bruce had been here long enough to look around and scribble on his notes, and there was no sign of anyone else around the perimeter of the place. Granted, he wasn't quite as cautious as he probably should have been, coming home, but the actuators are always on the lookout for danger.

And if the government does come crashing in, the raging green monster might be a good enough distraction for Otto to make an escape.

He is also, however little he'd like to admit it, aware that Bruce is somebody he should probably not piss off.

"It would benefit you, I'm sure, to seek out similar accommodations somewhere else to continue your own research..." He gestures vaguely to the cluttered space. It's no state of the art lab, but Otto is a tinkerer by nature, so while the equipment he's built may not be pretty, he's certainly found ways to create some fairly advanced equipment for his own purposes. "I'm not in need of another set of hands, as you can see. But... in the interest of... mutual respect," What he means in supervillain terms is 'you say out of my schemes and I'll stay out of yours', "I suppose you can crash here for a short while." The actuators begin to give a little writhe, as if in protest. "Just don't touch anything without asking."

on 2015-05-21 09:21 pm (UTC)
pridegoeth: (mild frown)
Posted by [personal profile] pridegoeth
Bruce might be surprised how advanced some of the junky-looking equipment actually is, and the actuators themselves are far more delicate and precise tools than they tend to appear to be. Still, even if they fall into some grudging respect of a working relationship, it's likely to be an awkward alliance at best. The show of respect towards Otto's belongings is met with a slight nod of approval though, and he's relaxing a little, tone growing calm and slightly weary. "That should be fine, but do you have a destination in mind?"

He doesn't stir from his seat backwards on the chair, but gestures vaguely to a stool near another desk. What seats there are all seem to either be backless, or turned around so he can sit as he is now. Meanwhile one of the actuators curls in closer to its host with the bag of groceries, so he can rifle through the contents. With only mild reluctance, Otto pulls out a package of peanut-butter crackers and a banana and tosses both to him, one with a flesh-and-blood hand and the other with an actuator, although they seem to be equally easy and accurate gestures.

The oreos he is definitely going to keep all for himself.

on 2015-05-22 01:16 pm (UTC)
pridegoeth: (actuator attention)
Posted by [personal profile] pridegoeth
That's a hard sight not to feel sympathy for, and Otto has been there himself, albeit not for to long, since he was quick to resort to stealing food. What he's brought home today was bought, although the money he used to do it was stolen, so that's only one step removed from the criminal life he's been pushed into. One eyebrow rises, then he looks away, and focuses on a package of crackers for himself. An actuator reaches over to a large, beat-up cooler under a table, extracts one bottle of soda, and pauses. The exchange is a subtle one, from the outside, but Otto casts a little frown in the direction of the actuator claw before it pulls out a second. One gets delivered to his own hand, then there's the metallic rattlesnake sound of a metal arm extending and approaching, the claw coming just close enough to hold the soda bottle in Bruce's reach.

on 2015-05-23 01:30 am (UTC)
pridegoeth: (actuator attention)
Posted by [personal profile] pridegoeth
The truth is the actuators don't like him, or at least they don't trust him. It's really nothing personal, since there's only one person in the world thus far that they do like, because he's their creator. The claw lingers a moment though, the three prongs of it flexing and settling into a half-open pose once he's taken the soda, while it moves to study him with some kind of lens set in the center, surrounded by LEDs. Up close he can see how intricate the claw is, each talon made in three sections that can slide and fold over each other in a variety of ways, and it looks like there might even be a secondary set of smaller talons each tucked inside, making the whole thing a very precise and delicate tool that's also capable of heavy-duty work. The way it pauses to stare at him implies some kind of camera or sensors behind the lens, too.

As a tool, they're incredibly versatile, works of genius. As weapons, they're potentially terrifying.

The chair creaks a little as Octavius shifts uneasily, and grumbles, "I... was thinking of making soup..."

on 2015-05-23 02:14 am (UTC)
pridegoeth: (Don't interrupt)
Posted by [personal profile] pridegoeth
The three-pronged claw draws back a little, then rotates slightly, like a dog tilting its head.

Dr. Octavius lifts one eyebrow. "So they can see what they're doing." It's such an obvious thing to him, he can't even imagine why somebody would have to ask, but he elaborates after a moment anyways. "Each actuator possesses an independently-functioning AI, and they were designed to be able to take in and assess information and react faster than human reflexes are capable of." Particularly his own reflexes, which are not bad, but he's never been what one might call athletic.

on 2015-05-24 03:10 am (UTC)
pridegoeth: (Don't interrupt)
Posted by [personal profile] pridegoeth
"...Yes, although we're able to communicate." Dr. Octavius watches him, neatly folding the blanket to put on a mattress that's already flattening in the middle due to the weight it regularly has to bear, with a jumble of other blankets, because cleaning up after himself has never been Otto's strong suit. The effort is respectful, anyway, even if it's useless in the wake of the other scientist's mess.

"They look to me for... guidance. I designed them for the fission experiment you were poking at earlier. They're immune to magnetism, and capable of withstanding heat and other conditions at levels no protective equipment could keep a human being safe from." They are, in a word, nearly indestructible. Although they do look a little tarnished and beat up, but that's just surface damage.

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smash_stuff: (Default)
Bruce Banner - The Hulk

October 2016

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