Harry Ryan has two first names (sybarite) wrote in rooms, @ 2014-08-12 01:43:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | !marvel comics, *log, harry osborn, mary jane watson |
[quicklog: mary jane watson/harry osborn]
Who: Harry & MJ
What: Meeting up to talk.
Where: Outside Stark Industries, to start.
When: At onset of toxin hijinks.
Warnings/Rating: Will update as needed. Likely language & imagery & violence.
True to his word, Harry headed over to meet MJ after putting his signature on a couple checks of minor importance at the office. He knew that these little tasks were meaningless and way below his capabilities. Harry believed himself to have knowledge of the finer, innermost workings of Oscorp's scientific advances... so signing off on delivery transfers was a total waste of time from his point of view. Still, he knew that only through completing these minor tasks without complaint was he ever going to endear himself back into his father's good graces as far as the company was concerned. That's what he told himself, anyway.
His father hadn't actually told Harry that he was disappointed in the way that Harry had run the business in his absence, and Harry wasn't directly blamed for the pulse that had caused Oscorp such a PR nightmare... but Harry couldn't shake the feeling that he wasn't entirely welcome at Oscorp anymore. He was endured by the employees, but they didn't really have a choice in that matter.
He really didn't know what to think about the whole thing, and the ride over to Stark gave him plenty of time to contemplate slights both real and imagined. By the time his driver pulled to a stop in front of the large, corporate building, Harry's mood was dramatically different from the ecstatic flirt he'd been on the phone.
That had been getting worse, too. Highs and lows. Manic, oscillating idoltry for his best friend, for his lovers, for his father. All of it plateaued with brief moments of crisp reality, and then the darkness threatened to suck Harry in again. On bad nights, his memory was worse than that of a raging drunk; broken snapshots from the night he'd taken the goblin serum, from that day the Pulse had slammed through the city. Sometimes he felt like two different people.
It was frustrating and a little frightening, and more than anything, Harry wanted the brightness of his day back. He wanted Mary Jane to tell him that she loved him, he wanted that night on the dancefloor back. He wanted a lot of things that felt faraway impossible, and then sometimes he didn't want them at all.
As he got out of the car, a brief text was sent her way.