Norman is a high functioning sociopath (thegreengoblin) wrote in newalliance, @ 2013-07-26 19:50:00 |
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Entry tags: | green goblin, harry osborn |
Thread: Welcome to OZ (Norman & Harry)
Who: Norman Osborn and eventually Harry Osborn
NPCs: Some poor scientist
Where: OsCorp Lab and then the Osborn home
When: July 26th, 2013, evening
What: Norman saw the paper and decides that it's time to take a chance on fate. And then the aftermath.
Rating: R, Implied Violence
The phone calls came pouring in as soon as the issue hit the streets. Reporters were hounding OsCorp phone lines and the building to see if it was true. Was Norman dying? Had he been hiding it for months? The questions were never-ending, unless Norman's patience. Each call was replied with, "No, he's not. That's a horrendous allegation."
He'd received some phone calls from members of the board as well and that, well, that was what ultimately pushed Norman toward the edge of losing it entirely. He was CEO and the board ultimately had to refer to him. They couldn't lock him out, but it was sounding like they wanted to find a way to get some footing. To see what they could do and take advantage of his failing health to somehow gain some power. Norman didn't like to share, and his company wasn't something he was willing to let go. He treasured it more than his own son and he'd be damned if he left it to the hands of lesser beings. They weren't the ones who built this company up from nothing. They were the ones who were nothing!
"Mr. Osborn, it's just that we can't stabilize the formula," the current doctor on the OZ formula stated and looked nervous, "Something about the compounds isn't right. The reactions are still unpredictable. We've balanced them somewhat, but we can't narrow it down to a specific blood type that might be causing the problem or perhaps something in the RNA that's not accepting it."
Norman didn't say anything but was staring at the formula before him. Chemistry was his forte and genetics, while not his complete strength, had become something of a new passion for him over the past few years. The first cancer scare had him looking carefully at the human genome and everything it encompassed. That was when OsCorp really made a name for itself because it was when Norman started bringing in all those brilliant minds. Luring them in with care packages and promises of discovery and then chaining them to his company with contracts and legalities.
The formula was on the screen, loaded from a private server and he pushed things around. "I know," was all he said but it was said with such venom that the other doctor seemed to slink into the background.
Norman's anger seethed out of him like a black ooze. If it were visible, it'd stick to the perfect white of his lab coat and slide down slowly, before beginning to consume anything it touched. Tomorrow he was going to have a press conference, a decision he made rashly and yet had to be done. If he didn't have a cure tonight, he would have to lie, even with his physical appearance so clearly worn from the sickness that was killing him. Cells rebelling against what they were directed in doing and rejecting their base code to do something vicious. It took his own body turning against him to take him out, or bring him close to death. The increased chemotherapy had him weaker than usual and he looked paler than usual. Norman knew he was dying and tonight was his last attempt.
"This," he said finally, "is the problem."
He brought a chemical compound over to another set, the simulation mixing them together and then showing, theoretically, what would happen. The first attempt showed a failure but the second run through?
Norman smiled.
"OZ Formula generation commencing," the robotic voice chimed and Norman turned to remove his lab coat and start rolling the sleeves of his Oxford shirt up to his elbows.
"Mr. Osborn, what are you doing?" the scientist gasped and Norman said calmly as he rubbed into his elbow to bring up the vein he needed, "I'm cheating death."
"But we haven't even done any of the testing on actual rats," the man said and hurried over, "You could die, or worse, the same thing that happened to Dr. Connors could—"
"Dr. Connors was weak and pathetic," Norman shoved the man hard, taking a great deal of his own strength out of him. The scientist tumbled back into a lab table. Norman continued, "And he's not me. I'm not using lizard DNA, I'm using goddamn science at its core and you're about to witness me revolutionizing the world yet again. And if I die trying, then goddamn it, I died a martyr for science! But no money hungry moron without a bit of scientific ingenuity is going to take my goddamn business away from me! Now stay there or so help me, I'll inject you first."
"OZ Formula generation complete. OZ formula ready for human trials," chimed the voice again. There was a soft hiss and Norman's fury went from the scientist to the tube of green liquid that sat waiting for Norman. The man on the floor sat quietly and didn't dare move. Not even an inch. He sucked in a breath of air as Norman walked weakly to where the formula, his salvation, sat waiting for him. Taking an injection device, he pulled the vial of green liquid out and stuck it in.
There was only a moment's hesitation, a half heartbeat where Norman questioned himself, but then that moment was gone as quickly as it arrived. The needle point pierced through the flesh of Norman's arm with a sting that had him wince, but it was nothing new compared to what else he was being stuck with lately. His jaw clenched as he felt the liquid being pushed into his body and then he pulled it out once it was all gone. Norman stared at the injection site, breathing hard, and watching it, waiting for his own body to start the process of healing itself.
The pain started in the tips of his fingers and quickly shot through his nervous system till his whole body was dropping to the floor and convulsing. Norman could hear the cries of the scientist shouting his name, but it was drowned out by his own screams of agony as whatever he put into his body tore its way through. Norman realized that he was dying. This had to be what death was going to be like for him. OsCorp would go to the board and if they didn't dismantle it and tear down all the blood and sweat he put into it, his own son surely would by the time he inherited.
Emily, he thought briefly before the pain engulfed him and dragged him into darkness and silence.