Oscorp

Otto Octavius removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes. What time was it, he wondered. What day was it for that matter? He felt like he had been cooped up in this basement forever, working around the clock to try and find a way to externalize Spider-Man’s powers.

He stood and walked over to another experiment he had been working on. Something to improve his speed. Swiping his card key and inputting a four-digit PIN, a small compartment opened up, revealing a harness with four mechanical tendrils attached to it. Octavius removed his jacket and shirt and pushed his back up against the harness. Once he closed the belt around his waist, the harness activated, conforming to his spine and linking to his mind via his brain stem.

The man began to concentrate and the arms slowly moved. He tried harder and they moved a little more, slowly rising up. The arms began to respond more and more smoothly to his commands and soon, they were snaking around his body as if they were an extension of his own being.

He walked back towards the Cray computer and sat at it, the arms continuing to snake around. Octavius began searching through the files, trying to find out what data exactly Osborn had on Spider-Man. Even a little more information could help Octavius unlock the secret to Spider-Man’s powers.

“Hmm… interesting…” said Octavius as the files began to display. “Osborn, you’ve been very busy, I see.”

ARMED & DANGEROUS

Part I: Extortion

By Dino Pollard

Lieber Towers
Empire State University

Flash Thompson looked up once he heard the door open, hiding the bottle he was drinking from. He was surprised to see his roommate standing there, removing his backpack. Flash sat up on the bed and turned off his stereo with the remote.

“Whoa, look who it is,” said Flash. “I was starting to wonder whether or not you dropped out, man.”

“Right,” said Peter. He walked over to his desk and sat at his computer.

“Where’ve you been, man? Off on a bender?” asked Flash. “I had a few, really bad one before the semester started, actually. So what’d you do? Swig girlie drinks and play some World of Warcraft?”

“Flash, shut up,” said Peter. “I’m not in the mood.”

“Yeah, whatever, at least you’re not that bitch of an R.A. we’re stuck with,” said Flash, pulling the bottle of Jack Daniels from its hiding spot.

“Leave her alone,” said Peter.

“What, you think just ‘cause she’s the only one on campus who’ll talk to you that means she wants your dick?” asked Flash. “Trust me, man, she is completely out of your league. You know who she’s bangin’? A frat dude. Rich boy, too. Drives around in a sweet-ass car. A bitch like that is a gold digger, y’know what I mean?”

“Flash, you’re drinking, shut up.”

“Just tellin’ it like it is, man,” said Flash as he took another swig from the bottle. He drunkenly sat up, swaggering a bit. “Y’know what you should do? You should come to a party with me, man. I mean… if we were gonna get you laid, it’d have to be by a chick who was really trashed…”

“Shut up…”

“Even then, I don’t know if it would work…” said Flash. He tried to snap his fingers, but fumbled. He tried again, but couldn’t seem to coordinate them at all. He waved his hand in a dismissal of the snap. “I got it, though. Here’s what we do. We go to a party, you pick out a girl. Any girl you want, alright? We get her fuckin’ smashed, right? Then I take her back here, fuck her brains out an’ then you take over, okay?”

“I’m going to the union,” said Peter, standing from his desk and picking up his bag. Flash stood and blocked the door.

“Out of my way, Flash.”

“Nah man, the hell’s your problem?” asked Flash. “I’ve been nothin’ but nice to you. I invite you out to party with me, try to get you laid, an’ you treat me like shit. Seriously man, what the fuck is your problem?”

Peter reached the breaking point and he lashed out, throwing a punch that struck Flash across the jaw. The football player rocked to the side and fell over on the ground. He looked up at Peter, blood in his mouth and lunged for him. Peter instinctively leapt over and Flash collided with the mini fridge.

“From now on, just don’t talk to me and I won’t talk to you,” said Peter. “I don’t want to drink with you, I don’t want you to help me pick up girls, I don’t want anything to do with you, okay?”

“Fuckin’ pansy-ass faggot…” muttered Flash. He pulled himself up to his feet and swayed back and forth as he followed Peter to the elevator. “Hey! I’m not finished with you, yet!”

At the elevator, Flash reached out to grab Peter by his collar. Parker’s spider sense served as a warning and he spun on his heels, grabbing Flash’s arm and swinging him lightly but firmly enough to throw the college freshman against the wall. Other students heard the commotion and emerged from their dorm rooms, eagerly watching the fight.

Flash lunged for Peter once again. With all these people around, he dared not display his powers, so instead just concentrated on avoiding Flash’s drunken attacks. Which, in turn, only served to further agitate his roommate.

“Hey, enough! Enough!”

Gwen pushed through the crowd and put herself between Flash and Peter. She turned to Flash first. “You are so on probation, asshole! If I could, I’d kick you off this floor in an instant!”

“Whatever,” muttered Flash.

“And you—!” she spun to face Peter. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Peter just shrugged and picked up his bag, walking for the staircase. “Getting out of here, that’s what.”

Gwen was silent as she watched Peter head down the hall. Flash came up behind her. “You really gonna let him talk to you like that?”

She looked at him. “Do you really want to press your luck right now?” She reached into her pocket and drew out her cell phone, opening up a new text message. “Everyone get back to your rooms. Show’s over.”

Queens

Mary Jane Watson sat in her room, reading quietly with music playing from her laptop. She looked up when she started to hear a tapping noise. At first, she dismissed it and returned to the book.

Then the tapping persisted.

Mary Jane stood and turned down the volume on her speakers. Still, the tapping came. She walked over to the window, slowly, and opened the curtains. The sight before her caused her to jump back a little.

“Peter?!”

Peter Parker sat on the roof outside her window and motioned for her to open it. She did and he crawled inside, still holding his backpack. Once he was in, she closed the window again and turned to face him.

“What are you doing here? My aunt said you already went back to ESU.”

“I did, but I needed to get away.”

“It’s kind of far from Queens, especially when you don’t have a car.”

“Don’t worry… a friend gave me a lift,” said Peter.

“And how did you get up here?” asked MJ.

“I… I climbed.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You?” He nodded and she started to chuckle. “Pete, you were always afraid of heights. When we were kids, remember how you always refused to climb even the smallest tree?”

“Right…” said Peter, recalling those days. Back when “Puny Parker!” was like a playground manner, always delivered in a sing-song, mocking tone and followed by claps. He shook his head. “My dorm’s kind of high up, so I guess you could say I’ve gotten used to heights.”

MJ sat on her bed. “So… what’s up?”

“I dunno, I’m not even sure why I came here,” said Peter. “I guess… I guess I just wanted to see you.”

“Oh… that’s sweet.” MJ nervously looked around her room, unsure of what to say next. Finally, she said, “that blonde girl at the funeral… was she the one you told me about?”

Peter nodded a little. “Gwen… yeah. That’s her.”

“She’s pretty.”

“Yeah… I guess she is.”

An uncomfortable silence filled the air. Peter began to look around MJ’s room himself and his eyes fell on the photo of the two of them from prom. “I hate the way I look in that picture.”

MJ looked at the photo as well and giggled a little. “Yeah, you weren’t really comfortable in that tux.”

“It was the smallest one they had left and it still felt like I was swimming in it.”

“Right…” said MJ. She started to laugh.

“What?” asked Peter.

“Remember… remember how you didn’t even want to go?” she asked. “I had to force you to go to your own prom.”

“Come on, you did it more for yourself than me—you know you just wanted to be a cool junior going to the senior prom,” said Peter.

“Oh yes,” said MJ. “Being your date has been such a popularity boost!”

The two of them began laughing together. MJ slid over a bit further on the bed and patted it. Peter took the cue and sat at the edge of the mattress, careful not to move any closer than that. It was a move that MJ noticed herself and a brief look of disappointment fell over her face before she caught herself and smiled again.

“So… is there anything you want to talk about?”

Peter shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“What about your uncle? Do you want to talk about that at all?”

He sighed. “I… I don’t think I’m ready to talk about that, not yet anyway. I need some more time, I guess.”

“Right, I gotcha,” said MJ. “But look, if you ever want to talk, I’m here. You know that, right?”

“Of course I do,” said Peter.

“MJ? Is someone there?”

“Shit, it’s my aunt!” said MJ. She looked at Peter. “I think you’d better go.”

“Yeah, might be a little weird to try and explain,” said Peter, opening the window up.

“Call me, though,” she said, sticking her head out the window. “Y’know… if you like.”

Peter smiled at her. “I will.”

“MJ…?”

“Gotta go,” said MJ, closing the window and curtains. As soon as she did, her Aunt Anna opened the door, looking around and seeming confused.

“I thought I heard voices…” she said.

“That was me,” said MJ. “I was just running through my lines.”

“Ah…” she said with a nod, taking one last look around the room. “Okay. Well, good night. Don’t stay up too late.”

“I won’t,” said MJ. “Good night.”

Once Anna left, MJ went back to the window and opened it, looking outside but finding no trace of Peter. For a guy who used to be so terrified of heights and so uncoordinated, he could certainly move quickly.

Oscorp

Norman Osborn walked through the corridors on the lower levels of his building, where the laboratories were located. He swiped his card, entered his PIN, and the door opened. There he found Octavius, metallic arms snaking about, hard at work on the computer.

“Dr. Octopus has been hard at work, I suppose?” asked Osborn.

Octavius frowned at that name.

“How is the work coming?”

“I think I’ve made a breakthrough,” said Octavius. “I was able to isolate the trigger in the DNA sample you gave me and I seem to have been able to replicate it.”

“Good news,” said Osborn.

“Of course, I needed a stabilizer,” said Octavius. “And I found one. In a formula buried in secured files.”

“Oh? And what formula would that be?” asked Osborn.

“It looks as if Stromm was responsible for it,” said Octavius. “And it had been tested on a man named Van Adder. Sound familiar?”

“Not even a little,” said Osborn, lying through his teeth.

“I have reason to believe otherwise,” said Octavius. “I also discovered schematics for a highly-advanced propulsion system. Miniaturized into a one-man glider.”

“Did you, now?” asked Osborn.

“That villain Spider-Man fought… what was his name again?”

“I believe he called himself the Goblin.”

“With some powers of his own,” said Octavius. “And riding around on a glider.”

“Yes, I suppose he did,” said Osborn. “What are you getting at, Doctor?”

“Shall I be frank, then?” asked Octavius. Osborn motioned for him to continue. Octavius stood and walked around the room as he spoke. “In order to ensure higher ratings, you decided to inject some drama into the series. You had Stromm develop this serum and you tested it on Van Adder, transforming him into the Goblin.”

“Sounds like it could be a serious crime,” said Osborn. “If it were true.”

“Precisely,” said Octavius. “And if someone possessed this knowledge, what would you do to silence them?”

“Assuming it were true,” said Osborn. “And assuming this person possessed evidence.”

“Oh, I think that’s a very safe assumption,” said Octavius.

The two men stared at each other, sizing the other up. Osborn spoke in a slow, even tone. “Then… I suppose I would silence him by throwing a lot of money at him.”

“That’s what I thought,” said Octavius with a sly grin.

“How much?”

“I’m not a greedy man,” said Octavius. “Just an extra fifty thousand a year.”

“I think that’s an amount we can both live with,” said Osborn. “I’ll authorize a raise in your salary first thing tomorrow morning. In the mean time, keep working.”

“You’re the boss,” said Octavius.

Osborn left the room and walked down the corridor. Another room lay at the end, which only he had access to. Once inside the room, Osborn turned on the computer and brought up the workstation Octavius was on. Osborn saw that all the work had been backed up sufficiently and nodded with a smile.

Norman opened a small compartment in the corner of the room. In it was a messenger bag filled with pumpkin bombs. He switched them on a timer and walked back down the corridor. With all the files backed up on a secure web server, he wouldn’t lose any information and his insurance would cover the damage. As Osborn walked past the lab where Octavius sat, he dropped the bag.