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WHO: Harry Osborn (as the Goblin) & you!
WHAT: Harry is possessed by an animal spirit and starts aggressively antagonizing people. Feel free to have him trying to stalk your character or slap him away from civilians!
WHEN: 6/04
WHERE: City of Adventure
NOTES/WARNINGS: Probably just violence, but will add warnings if needed. Feel free to switch to action spam if you prefer that to prose.

What began as a largely innocent expedition through the City of Adventure didn't end up staying that way.

Harry donned his Goblin gear purely for ease of travel. It was much easier to fly above or between trees on his glider, using his sword to cut through obstacles as needed. He hadn't even particularly intended to bother anyone unless they got in his way. Since time stopped back home when visiting the SFC, Harry saw it as the perfect way to hone his skills. Begrudgingly, he had to acknowledge that Peter had years of practice being Spider-Man. Harry? Pretty new to this whole Goblin thing.

It all went without incident until he neared the denser, wilder areas of the city. Something collided with Harry's chest - he was sure of it! - but there'd been nothing approaching him. He pulled the glider to a stop, regaining his balance as he inspected his chest, expecting to see something there. But there was nothing. Naturally.

He did feel a bit... strange, though. It started as a niggling feeling in the back of his mind, eventually exacerbating his already aggressive and chaotic thoughts into something purely predatory.

Hunt. He had to hunt.

Before long, Harry - still masked by his gear - stalked through Adventure with animalistic deftness. He'd abandoned his glider completely, which - for anyone with sharp eyes or ears - could be seen or heard lazily roving above the trees, tracking its master on autopilot. He kept mostly to the ground, aggressively pursuing just about anything that crossed his path. That included humans, especially as he veered closer and closer to the camp where many adventurers set up their makeshift homes.

A particularly dangerous predicament when the guy had superhuman strength. At least he didn't seem interested in using any of that weaponry he was armed to the teeth with.

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Clark had been taking Giorno's advice, venturing out a little from the City of Tomorrow and into some of the other areas. He felt a little bad that he wasn't using the transportation instead of flying over the bay but he didn't really want to waste the money when he was going to be going to all the places he'd read about on the app.

And it was probably because he was up in the air that he actually heard the fuss, heard people starting to organize and even the beginning of fighting. Putting on speed in a way he hadn't for years, he heads straight for the noise.

At the center of that noise, it would be immediately apparent what was wrecking havoc. The focus was on a man dressed entirely in green and black armor, behaving more like an animal than a human being. He'd already uprooted someone's camp and they were - understandably - retaliating.

Harry fled into the shadow-riddled trees when the civilian started firing off a rifle at him; he blended remarkably well thanks to his color scheme. It threw the adventurer off just enough that when Harry scrambled up a nearby tree and promptly lunged off a branch into the adventurer, there was no time to fire another shot. He slapped the gun away with inhuman force and loomed over them ominously, snarling like an angry beast behind the mask.

With his right arm reeled back in preparation for a strike, arm blades glinting under the sun, it became clear: if no one intervened, the civilian would be killed.

Clark's had his share of screw ups lately, and he's not even sure he's doing the right thing when it comes to coming here without telling his mother, but some things he knows he has to do whether it's a good idea or not. Seeing that beast with a blade poised to murder someone is when action is necessary.

Which is why a teenage-boy-sized missile goes flying forward, aiming to knock the Goblin away from the civilian. If he gets a blade to the head, well, he might have to explain some rips in his clothing to his mother but it's not even a question.

Even with enhanced reflexes, the ambush is much too fast for Harry to register in time to move. He thinks he hears the civilian squawking in a mixture of surprise and relief, but it's not as if he really has time to think about it. He's sort of hurtling through the air.

His trajectory is interrupted by a tree, which he crashes into with no small amount of force. There's a sharp wave of pain up Harry's back and he howls in a mixture of pain and outrage. Clark's successful in saving the civilian, who is now racing to retrieve their gun and get help, but Harry doesn't care about them. His sights are on the one who managed to strike him. His first instinct is retaliation.

Naturally, the smart thing to do against a guy who just turned himself into a missile is to rush at him headfirst in an attempt to tackle him.

Clark's not exactly sure of what to expect, but the attempt to tackle him is met with an attempt to catch him before he can slice him to ribbons.

He doesn't know who's in there, doesn't even know if a person is in there, so he takes a shot at the guy's head in an attempt to knock him out. He pulls his punch considerably; after all, he's been able to punch through a wall since he was eight. He doesn't want to kill anyone.

Unable to twist his trajectory around in mid-air, Clark succeeds in catching Harry, who is none too pleased with that outcome. He's behaving more beast-like than human when he thrashes around, prioritizing getting free over landing any strikes.

It's only thanks to his enhanced reflexes that he's even able to dodge that punch at all-- and just barely. The air whisks pasts his head, but then Harry decides to try and return the gesture in kind. His strength is no doubt comparatively weaker, but that's for the best, because he's not holding back when he tries to wail right back at Clark's face with a fist.

Oh he hits, and it clearly smarts, but it's also a little bit like punching a bank vault door. There's no give to that soft face, and most of the movement happens from Clark being surprised at the blow.

But it does make him angry, which is when his eyes light a bright, fiery red and a burst like a flare from the sun itself shoots out from them, coincidentally aimed at Harry's shoulder.

Ouch.

This is Harry's first encounter with another superhuman, and even when his mind is clouded with the feral spirit's influence, the resistance to his punch does not go unnoticed. The sharp pain of hitting what may as well have been a tank vibrates up his arm, stunning him. He only has about a second to register the red gleam from Clark's eyes and that punching him was probably a bad idea before the burst hits its mark.

Another howl of pain - more intense than the last - rips from the armored attacker's throat. Immediately, he's trapped between what the spirit wants - retaliation - and what his instincts want - which is to get the everloving hell out of there because this guy is not to be trifled with. The influence's grip on him is, unfortunately, still too strong for the latter to win out, which results in a last ditch effort to get Clark to turn him loose by trying to lodge his arm blades into one of his biceps.

Clark's shirt gets sliced easily enough, but the blade skitters over his skin. It still makes him hiss, mostly out of necessary reaction. Clark closes his eyes because he knows just how damaging the heat can be and he doesn't want to do permanent damage, but he does end up flailing out to try and knock Harry one.

"I don't want to hurt you!"

What... the hell?

Somewhere in Harry's mind, he's still aware that those blade are strong enough to cut through steel and they just skimmed off this guy's chest. If that's not enough to persuade the animal spirit to give it a rest, then the fist that clocks him square in the jaw is. A resounding THUNK wafts into the air when Clark's knuckles connect with the metal, Harry's head jerking back.

And for a moment, he just kind of... stays like that. No more fighting or thrashing around. Right now, Harry's seeing stars and whatever was possessing him seemed to finally think better of pursuing this endeavor. Animals are well acquainted with the food chain, and it's obvious it's on a much lower rung of the ladder than Clark. Unfortunately for Harry, he gets stuck with all the consequences. His back aches, his shoulder is on fire (pun intended), and now his jaw is throbbing.

Even with his voice warped by his mask, a very human sound finally emerges: "Owww...!" And after another moment-- "Too late for that."

During the brief period where Harry gets knocked back, Clark is utterly TERRIFIED that he might have done something... irreversible. Killed someone or hurt them so bad they couldn't move or--

But then Harry's complaining and Clark literally collapses with relief, flopping to the ground with a deep sigh.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry but you were... you were bonkers."

He's assuming Harry's not bonkers now.

It felt like some weird dream more than anything. Harry was somewhat aware of what he was doing, but most of it was hazy at best. He's bleary and confused, just happy to have control over his own body again. As soon as Clark's flopped over, Harry pretty much follows suit, content to just lay there until his body hurts a little less. The Goblin serum came with a healing factor, didn't it? It's probably not as fast as Harry wants it to be, but...

Whatever.

"Something... I dunno-- took control of my body. All I could think about doing was hunting." A beat. "And you." Harry lifts his head up from the ground. You didn't even have to see his face to tell he was staring at Clark with all the scrutiny he could muster. "What the hell are you? These things can cut through steel!" He waves his arm with the blades attached in the air for a moment before unceremoniously flopping it back to the ground.

Edited 2016-07-06 21:36 (UTC)

Clark sits up and looks over at Harry, not sure of what to say before watching him flop over, sighing tiredly and flo,pping down as well. He's still kind of getting over thinking he killed someone. And he can't even think of what to answer that with. He'll really worry about it when Harry isn't passing out. Onto the important things:

"But you're okay now, right?"

Edited 2016-07-07 00:13 (UTC)

Way to dodge the question, Clark. Fortunately, Harry is too absorbed in his own exhaustion and agony to care enough to press.

"I think so... I mean, I feel like me." It wouldn't come back, right? Harry had a hard enough time feeling at home in his own head. Which brought to his attention that his dad hadn't said anything throughout that entire ordeal, not even to try and reel him back in. ...Weird. "Thanks for, uh... not killing me." Because it's terrifyingly clear to Harry that he probably could have if he wanted.

'I need more training. The way I am now-- it's not good enough.'

Ueerrgh.

"Please don't thank me for that," because ugrghhg. He really doesn't ever want anyone to thank him for that. That's the last thing he wants people thinking about him. The sheriff's sketch of a 'demon' flashes in his mind and he does his best to shake it off.

"You sound better, though. Like... person-like."

"Suit yourself." What's the big deal? Harry wonders cluelessly. In Clark's shoes, he's not sure he would have been as merciful. He was trying to kill a bunch of people, including Clark. Really, Harry should be more concerned that that knowledge isn't bothering him.

"Oh great... Was I actually doing all that growling and hissing? I thought that was just in my head." Groaaan. "Leave it to me to still act like a doofus when I'm not even myself."

"Yeah, no," he says as he pushes himself up and holds out a hand for Harry, "you were doing the whole... crazy animal thing. Scared the crap out of everyone, honestly."

Visiting Adventure usually included lots, lots of walking through the jungle and similar landscapes. More than once Dave has thought of using something to help - it doesn't have to be a bike, he'll take a flying statue by now... but it'd call too much attention on himself, and he doesn't want that. Especially in this part of the "city".

So imagine his surprise when he decides to sit by the river for a short break and he discovers a strange contraption floating above him.

"What the..."

Dave stands up and tries to follow it, thinking of how to get a closer look at it, unaware of whoever may be in the shadows...

The glider would go on for a little while before coming to a dead stop, just hovering idly in the air. It took a little while for its absent pilot to realize there was someone following it and therefore him, but once he did, he immediately stopped to observe.

Harry's mind was muddled, only thinking of finding prey. An unfortunate outlet for his stifled aggression, because as soon as Dave wanders into view, Harry is down on all fours like a beast, gearing up to pounce. The rustling of leaves and cracking of sticks give his position away just seconds before the armored Goblin comes bursting out of his cover.

Rustling and cracking doesn't call Dave's attention, he thinks they're the usual jungle sounds. His eyes are on the glider, trying to guess why it's here, arching his eyebrows when it comes to a stop.

"What are you--"

There's not time to react, the pouncing is completely effective. Crying out, Dave hits the ground, confused and kinda scared. At times like this it's when all his master's training kicks in - he's not an expert fighter, not yet, but Dave is still a human with surviving instincts, and now magic takes over those. His fingers don't hesitate to spark up and try to touch the-- creature?, hoping a plasma bolt will be enough at least to get it off him.

Poor Dave.

Fortunately for him, his magic is very effective. Harry - even if he hadn't been possessed - would have never expected to be countered with magic, so when Dave makes contact, that's a very human yelp as he's promptly thrown off. It makes him immediately pay heed, too. As soon as he's scrambled back to all fours, he just ends up kind of... crouching there... staring.

There's still enough of Harry left to wonder what the hell that was and to question whether he should continue. A curious head-tilt as he studies Dave, then a low hiss. Not quite as aggressive, but certainly defensive. Don't do whatever-that-was again!

Dave doesn't register what kind of yelp it is, he's just relieved to see this being getting away from him. He also takes distance, crawling away and only stopping when he hears the hiss.

"Stay away, you-- you-- monster thing."

Sorry, but he does do that again, a plasma bolt forming on his hand, ready to shoot if necessary. But he doesn't, not yet, because he still isn't sure of the creature's speed. If his bolt is dodged, well... starting a fire isn't something he wants on his sorcerer resume.

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