Liam Roberts is an (author) wrote in doorslogs, @ 2013-03-01 00:46:00 |
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Entry tags: | curt connors, plot: switch, spider-man |
Who: Liam & Connor
What: Trying to control the lizard
Where: Oscorp -> sewers
When: Recently!
Warnings/Rating: None, really
The lab was quiet save for the sound of various pieces of equipment filling the air with their electronic hum, a persistent buzz that faded into the background of the lab. The lights were low, dimmed to their nighttime levels, and one might have thought the lab empty of human life had it not been for the thing crouched in a corner behind a set of lab tables. Its breath was ragged pulls, as though it was afraid to make more noise than needed, afraid to draw more attention to itself than was absolutely unavoidable. Though its appearance had long since faded into something distinctly un-human in nature, the eyes were wide, and in those yellow depths there was a certain humanity lurking there, a fear that had not diminished in the slightest.
There was anger brewing beneath the green scaled skin, a rage that it was unfamiliar with, that it didn’t understand. But despite that desire to leave, to get the energy out of its system, to find some place to release it all, to rid himself of it, it had stayed still, waiting, crouched in the corner. Its tail flicked with budding anxiety, those yellow eyes flicking towards the entrance to the lab, waiting.
He had said he would come. That he would get him help. It was the only reason he stayed, skin crawling and filled with a strength that scared him to even attempt to comprehend. He was dangerous, deadly, a thing to be feared, and it was so at odds with who he was normally that he found it hard to digest it. But that humanity that still lived deep within him, that’s what kept him still, kept clawed hands and feet on the tiled floor.
Connor hadn't needed to get the hang of swinging around the city. That was one of the strangest things about it. All the various things that came with being Spider-man, the powers and abilities, the web-swinging, it had all felt as simple as second nature. It was bizarre, putting on the suit that fit him perfectly, swinging through the city as smoothly and easily as if he'd been doing it for years. With little else to focus on, he had seen no reason why he shouldn't pick up the slack left by a lack of Peter in this place. He had been cast in the role, hadn't he? And Connor's primary priority in life, the only real thing driving him, was his determination to punish those that ought to be punished on behalf of those they hurt.
The strangest thing was actually the spider powers, or the suit, or hurtling through the air over New York's streets at blistering speeds. The strangest part of it all was what it had sparked in his chest. The sensations he felt when someone smiled at him after he fought off the muggers trying to rob them, or when he was between swings, in the midst of a sickening half-fall, they felt like...well, feelings. Feelings on the level that he had always supposed normal people felt these things. He wasn't purely emotionless, of course - on the contrary, he felt strongly, but only in a few directions, and those emotions tended to stay buried deep unless they were being put to good use somehow. In his normal life, he knew anger, and he knew the stunted, sad fluttering of pleasure, though that came mostly on the heels of having his anger satisfied.
This was different. While he was still himself, and, on the surface, not much had changed - in fact, he was arguably even more stoic as a teenager than he was as an adult - underneath, something stirred. It hurt, those feelings. The happiness, the pride in doing something good, and the fear, every so often, flickering at the edges? He didn't know what to do with them. They were foreign enough that he didn't know what to make of them, and yet he craved them like a plant in a cupboard stretching for the sun shining through the cracks.
He didn't know Liam, but Peter knew Connors, and the mention of a serum had gotten Peter's attention right away. This mess with everyone flipped onto the wrong side of their doors was the first time since Peter's appearance that he'd felt thankful for him, since he was able to provide information that Connor would need to track down those who might make trouble on this side of the door.
He was not without compassion. The missing arm and the serum certainly fit Connors, but if the man had duped his alter into drinking the serum that would turn him into the Lizard, this mess was hardly of his own making. Still, people needed to be protected. If Connors' alter couldn't handle the transformation, they would have a problem on their hands. He needed to be contained, either until the stuff wore off, or until he could procure an antidote.
Finding his way to Oscorp was a simple enough thing, but finding the right office was a little more complex. Peter insisted that Oscorp hadn't looked this way the last time he'd been there. Thankfully, he still had a functional phone, and a quick search revealed online turned up a research website. There was Liam's name, with an office number in Oscorp, as well. This world had wrapped around them all like they had always belonged in it, and if he were more easily rattled, it would have left him unnerved.
Outside the building again, it seemed wiser to start from the top and go down. Connor entered from the roof and began making his way down. A sharp wrench with his new, exhilarating strength got the elevator doors open, and after that it was just a matter of counting the floors as he dropped and caught himself on a web. Another wrench, and he was on the floor where the lab ought to be.
All was quiet, after the doors slid open and shut. Connor let them close carefully, to keep from making too much noise, cushioning them as they came together again. If the Lizard was here, there was no good reason to startle him.
He padded into the lab proper, listening, and caught a sharp drag of breath. Well, it would be best to at least attempt diplomacy, first. "Liam," he said. It wasn't the voice one would expect from a friendly neighborhood Spider - a little too somber, serious, dry. "That is your name, isn't it?" He walked around the edge of the tables. "I'm here to help."
His senses were on high alert, every noise on the floor filtering through to him, every bit of movement catching his eyes, so when Connor entered the lab, he knew even before the voice met his ears. It was harder to keep still knowing there was someone so close, someone he could unleash even a small fraction of this pent-up rageangerenergy that was pulsing through his system. Claws scraped against the tile as he pressed back against the corner, bright yellow eyes watching as Connor came around the edge of the table he had concealed himself behind.
There was another ragged breath, his heart pounding furiously in his chest, enough to make him light-headed with the way blood rushed through his system. Was he Liam? Was that who he was deep inside, that human voice that still spoke, though it was getting harder and harder to understand what he was saying. Maybe he was, maybe he wasn’t, that was hardly what anyone needed to concern himself with right then. There was that need in him that needed to be addressed, the anger that made him shift, tail flicking dangerously just feet away from where Connor stood. “I don’t want to hurt anyone,” it said, the voice low and gravelly, inhuman in its timbre.
"No," Connor said. He was a bit of a strange sight, standing apparently unfazed at the end of the table as he took in the creature before him. He'd known what to expect, at least somewhat, though this was certainly beyond what he'd anticipated. Knowing you would come face to face with a man-sized lizard was one thing. Seeing one firsthand was another entirely.
Still, surreal as it seemed, some part of Connor connected with the sight in front of him in that short moment. He knew what it was like to not feel really like a human being, to know himself as a monster in his own kind. "And you're not going to," he said. The more affirmative he could be, the more reassuring he could try to make himself, the better this was likely to turn out for everyone. He watched that tail flick close and felt a faint buzzing in the back of his head, the same one he'd come to associate with oncoming danger, but he didn't flinch.
Connor extended a hand. "Here's what we're going to do," he said, his voice level. "We're going to go up to the roof, and I'll call someone." He racked his brain. Who dealt with this sort of thing. SHIELD, Peter chimed in. But they're kind of jerks. "Someone from SHIELD. They can get you somewhere safe, where there's no chance you'll hurt anyone, and we can find out how to reverse this."
Yellow eyes watched the hand that extended to him warily, mistrust pouring off him in thick waves, leaving nothing to question in how he was feeling. I’ll call someone. The words ricocheted around in his head, bouncing, colliding with the things that were him and the things that helped him fit this role. Liam would have trusted, would have extended a hand, taken the help that was offered. But the Lizard did not trust so easily. He was wary, suspicious, a wild animal with all of its rage barely leashed in. In the end, it was that part of him that won out, the tail flicking once in warning before it let out a roar of rage. “NO!” The word reverberated in the lab, echoing for several moments as he shifted in agitation. “You’re not calling anyone,” it growled, because no matter how assuring Connor’s voice was, the words he spoke, his very body language, it felt that there was nothing but danger waiting for it if anyone else were to be involved.
Connor darted back to be sure he was clear of that swiping tail, then held still again. He could see that Liam was tipping in the direction of anger, and the insanity that Peter seemed to feel characterized Connors in his lizard form, the pure animal rage. "Then let's at least go somewhere a little more private," he said, as if the conversation hadn't been interrupted by a swiping tail. "I won't call anyone. We can just go somewhere that's strong enough to hold us both. Alright?" The main thing was getting Liam isolated. Once that much had been accomplished, then they could begin to tackle the problem of the lizard.
It was difficult to determine whether or not Connor was lying. Somewhere private. Somewhere strong. Was it just so he could capture him, refuse to let him go, or were his intentions pure? It was a razor-thin edge that he balanced on, swaying from trust to distrust in a rapid cycle before finally settling on his choice. It was fueled by Liam, his desire to see the best in people, even though every other instinct told him to leave, to run, to find some escape in this city. “If you are lying to me,” it said in that same guttural growl, “you will not live to regret it for long.” Those yellow eyes narrowed into thin slits, and then it lifted its chin, gesturing. “Below the city. Private. It’s strong enough for both of us.” And something down there, in the pit of the city beneath the peoples’ feet, he could feel a pull. Home. Safe. Ground he was familiar with, tunnels he knew like the back of his hand. No tricks could be pulled on him there, not in the world he had once crawled.
Connor ordinarily felt no fear, but being on this side of the door had awakened some nascent, stunted version of it, and the suggestion he wouldn't survive betraying this creature long seemed backed up by fact. Still, despite the faint prickling of unease along his spine, that was hardly enough to deter him. If he didn't try to help, who was going to? "Then let's go," he said simply, gesturing to the door as if they were just taking a pleasant walking trip together.
The path to the sewers was a familiar one, memorized by the Curt Connors that belonged to this world, given to him as a gift with everything else when their roles had been swapped. Down this darkened alley, the city buzzing with life on the streets nearby where the lights were not dim, where people went about their lives unknowing of the things that went on only yards away. So many people walked around with a cloak of ignorance hiding them from the world, but in truth, the things that they did not know could very well hurt them. Perhaps this world should be taught a lesson...
No. That was not what was happening now, not with Connor trailing behind him as he pried up grate in the street that would allow them access. This was no manhole, for he could not fit in such openings. This was larger, the city’s sewer rushing beneath them, and without waiting, he dropped through, disappearing with a splash of water, the very world beneath the city seeming to whisper to him welcome home. “Are you coming?” it asked, turning its attention to the rectangle of light that served as the opening to the world above. “You wanted safe. Private and strong.” The tail flicked, curling around the lizard’s feet ominously. The anger that tore at him within was becoming harder to control, to prevent from lashing out. Something had to change - and soon.
Connor followed the creature as they made their way down to the sewers, staying out of sight of prying eyes, travelling down little used stairwells and through the back corridors of Oscorp. Undoubtedly, someone would see the surreal vision of a boy in a spandex suit following a giant lizard down through the building on the security cameras later. For now, they somehow managed to make it out of the building without being seen.
As if that was the end of their potential troubles. When the lizard opened the sewer grate, Connor hesitated, but he did not balk. He had made an agreement, and his word was true. Now, he could only hope he would not die in the sewers. He didn't respond to Liam's suggestion, but he did drop down, following after him.
"Do you know if the effects will fade with time?" he asked. Peter seemed to think so, but Peter also hardly seemed to know some of the people in his own life, here.
The light down here was dim, but he could see clearly enough as Connor landed moments behind him. “I don’t know. He says yes, but that was him. His physiology. Not mine.” The creature moved with a certain restlessness, trailing further into the depths of the sewer, not bothering to watch that the other followed him. His skin crawled, clawed hands clenched, and then abruptly he turned, that massive tail smashing into one of the stone walls, bits of masonry crumbling and falling into the water. “And if it doesn’t? If I’m stuck like this forever? What will you do?” The lizard crashed forward then, coming within feet of the other man, yellow eyes narrowed. “How will you help me? Lock me up in a cage? Is that what you’re planning?”
The sewer was wet, and smelled foul, as advertised, but the water was mostly runoff this high in the tunnels, thankfully. He glanced back at the exit, then began to follow again, reluctantly. He needed to be sure Liam didn't hurt anyone, but there were other people he was meant to help, too. How could he be of any use to them if he was locked in a cell?
As the lizard came pounding toward him, Connor held steady, and didn't flinch. Behind the mask, he stared him down. "I don't know," he said, honestly. He could see no profit in lying to him. "We'll cross that bridge if we come to it. But no, I don't want to lock you in a cage. You're a person. You didn't ask for this." Those qualifiers appeared to satisfy Connor's moral compass, straightforward and true.
Whatever Connor’s fears, the lizard had no intention on trapping anyone in this place. It was as Connor said: strong enough for both of them, private enough that no one would overhear their conversation. Privacy was something it was learning to treasure, to hold onto, or maybe that was just Liam coming through. The line between Liam and the lizard was blurring, leaving the parts indistinguishable from the whole. “No, I didn’t ask for it,” it said in a voice that was more growl than actual speech, “but I don’t want to hurt anyone. I feel it inside me. The anger. The rage.” Claws clenched into tight fists and the lizard looked down at its scaled hand, barely recognizable as his own. “It’s going to come out. I can’t hold it back until this is over. It’s a hunger. A need. You can only refuse it so long.” That tail flicked again, the strength in it barely hinted at with the way it swished behind him, curling around those strong legs the thing stood on.
"No," said the flat voice behind the mask. "That's not true. You can refuse it forever. You can keep it down forever. All it takes is the restraint to hold on to it, and the self-control to think of the people who would be hurt if you let it go."
Obviously Liam's situation was considerably different from Connor's, from the drive that had carried him since he was a boy, from the rage that burned like banked coals underneath a dead, cold exterior. He'd been physiologically altered, and he couldn't be held fully responsible for his actions. Still, if there was any good way to arrest his attention and hold it in his current state, it would be strong statements. If there was any chance of helping him best this, it would be through the challenge of making it possible.
Control? He thought it was all about control? Restraint? It wasn’t about that at all, and deep down, Liam knew that. It came down to strength, to wanting to overpower it or being too tired to keep up the fight. Connor made it sound so simple, so painfully simple that he could scream. “Care about the people who would be hurt?” it echoed, its voice bouncing off the walls with the volume he gave it. “Care about them like they’ve cared about me?” There was emotional anger there, pure Liam in its rawest form. It was everything that happened with Tristan, with Seven, all the pain he had been through in the last several months coming to a boil that he couldn’t tamp down. The rage, the anger, it fueled him, bled into his limbs, and before the lizard even knew what it was doing, it lunged at the masked man, its roar filled with emotion pulled from deep within someone so full of pain. There was no thought in the movement, just instinct, a need to destroy, to make people hurt even a fraction of how he felt. The tail swished, slamming into the stone wall, deadly claws swinging out to try and catch the masked thing, to sink claws in deep.
The benefit to having a sixth sense was moments just such as these, when an opponent struck out violently and unexpectedly. The tingling at the back of Connor's neck burst into a shooting sensation, and he dodged the blow from those claws even before they fell. The water, thankfully, wasn't deep enough to slow him down too much, or those long claws could have sliced him open with all the ease of a bundle of knives.
There was no dry surface on which to get good purchase down here, nothing to swing off of. So Connor could only rely on brute force to hopefully take Liam down as swiftly as possible. If he chose to be violent, then Connor would have to reciprocate. Unfortunate. He leapt off the floor, vaulting through the air, hands outstretched to grab the lizard by his immense head and cling on.
The lizard, however, was in no mood to be caught right then. When his claws failed to gain purchase in the masked man, he let out a roar, tail whipping from side to side as he struggled to catch sight of where the man had gone to, head turning this way and that until those hands landed on his head. The next roar was deafening, animalistic instinct kicking in as it tore at the thing, driving further into the sewers without thinking really of where it was going.
Connor hung on as long as he could, until sharp claws dug purchase into one of his hands, and he lost his grip. He didn't curse, or snap, just snatched his hand away and fell, flipping backward to catch himself on his feet. His hand was bleeding, now, a furrow sliced up the back of his arm. It wasn't bleeding too badly, so he couldn't think of it now. Instead, he began firing webs, using the moment of harried distraction to try to cocoon Liam up. If he could just get him immobile, he could take him somewhere safe and lock him in for now.
The feeling of claws finding a home in soft flesh was something he relished, a feeling that he had nothing else in his life to compare to. But it didn’t last long enough before the other man was letting go, freeing him for a precious few moments. He should have continued to retreat into the sewers, deeper into the bowels of the city, but a desire for another taste of blood, for another bite from the other man had him turning around, a clumsy motion given his size, and it was that decision that cost him dearly. Sticky webbing that clung to every surface with its unforgiving nature, it wasn’t long before the lizard found it hard to move, limbs bound up, the web hobbling him in place. Jaws snapped and those yellow eyes burned with a definite malice, beyond thought as he fought at the webbing for freedom. It was Liam fighting in those moments, fear and panic gripping him at being caught, trapped, held tight, dredging up memories that he couldn’t afford to relive. There was another roar, but it tasted different in the air: less fury, more fear.
Connor pulled back hard on the webbing, and all likely would have gone according to plan if not for the gash in his left arm. Thus his drag on the bundle of webs was weaker than planned, and instead of going taut, the webbing snapped forward and then back, and Liam's fight broke the joint between the web and the tangled strands around him. Connor tried to fire again, with his good arm, holding the injured one close to his chest, but it was harder to get purchase now that Liam had been thrashing around on wet scales.
The moment there was even a second of freedom, the web breaking, the lizard suddenly stumbled towards the dirty water, but it was enough. There was another growl, and then the lizard tore down the tunnels of the sewer, no longer set on destruction but escape, its growls and roars echoing in the tunnels.