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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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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."