A Sudden Shift in Motion by DocCassieOck
Disclaimer: You know the drill.
Summary: A shortie but a goodie. Doc Ock takes a look at his new life while working on his weapon.
Otto Octavius whirled around in his chair. "That pretentious little prick calls me a hack. 'See you in Sweden, Otto!' Over my dead body, Osborn. If you didn't have that precious tridium then I would've torn you a new mouth to spew your whining commands from. Preferably in the region of your abdomen." The words rolled off of Octavius' tongue like acid, each word a biting, lethal drop. He liked Osborn no better than he liked Spider-Man. "Spiiider-Maaan, Spiiider-Maaan, does what-eeever a spiiider caaan..." he sang in a mocking falsetto. His four mechanical arms hovered eerily around him, picking up tools, parts, and a glass of bourbon. Can't forget the cigar, either. Got to have that cigar. "They call me Doctor Octopus. Clever. Doc Ock for short. God Almighty, what will these losers think up next? It makes my brain hurt to think of how stupid these people are! People like Jameson. People like Osborn. Funny that I know all about his father's whole sordid affair with a certain green meanie. Ignorant little twerp...oh, well. I'll take care of that little pain in the ass soon enough. Huh." Doc Ock paused here, and using one of his mechanized tentacles, took a swig of alcohol. "Daddy Warbucks," he muttered in a lame conclusion.
For the next two hours, Ock was silently concentrating on his work. Not uttering a sound, he slowly let his cigar burn down without taking more than three puffs on it, and the ice melted slowly in the warming liquor. As he brought one of his metal arms around to put a wrench in his hand, he looked up from his tinkering to look at the machine incorporated into his back. "Beautiful," he whispered. The claw on it chirped in some strange sort of satisfaction. "The brilliance of A.I.," he marveled, as he flexed his new extremities. "And I did this. I gave this brilliant thought, this brilliant dream to life and here it is now, part of me once again." A chuckle escaped him. "We'll own this city, won't we?" he asked his arms. "Yes, we will. Once this project is completed, once my success is sure, then God knows what else I can do? This whole damn town is my playground, even now!" Octavius shouted to the darkness. He was vaguely aware of the sounds of the city in the distance, and he began to walk toward the window of his ruinous lab on the lower two tentacles of his back. "Hot town, summer in the city..." he sang softly to himself. "I'm New York's biggest freakin' nightmare! Let's see if the itsy bitsy spider can climb up the water spout fast enough to save a few lives." He continued out the doorway, into the heart of downtown Manhattan.
The screams started moments later...
Disclaimer: You know the drill.
Summary: A shortie but a goodie. Doc Ock takes a look at his new life while working on his weapon.
Otto Octavius whirled around in his chair. "That pretentious little prick calls me a hack. 'See you in Sweden, Otto!' Over my dead body, Osborn. If you didn't have that precious tridium then I would've torn you a new mouth to spew your whining commands from. Preferably in the region of your abdomen." The words rolled off of Octavius' tongue like acid, each word a biting, lethal drop. He liked Osborn no better than he liked Spider-Man. "Spiiider-Maaan, Spiiider-Maaan, does what-eeever a spiiider caaan..." he sang in a mocking falsetto. His four mechanical arms hovered eerily around him, picking up tools, parts, and a glass of bourbon. Can't forget the cigar, either. Got to have that cigar. "They call me Doctor Octopus. Clever. Doc Ock for short. God Almighty, what will these losers think up next? It makes my brain hurt to think of how stupid these people are! People like Jameson. People like Osborn. Funny that I know all about his father's whole sordid affair with a certain green meanie. Ignorant little twerp...oh, well. I'll take care of that little pain in the ass soon enough. Huh." Doc Ock paused here, and using one of his mechanized tentacles, took a swig of alcohol. "Daddy Warbucks," he muttered in a lame conclusion.
For the next two hours, Ock was silently concentrating on his work. Not uttering a sound, he slowly let his cigar burn down without taking more than three puffs on it, and the ice melted slowly in the warming liquor. As he brought one of his metal arms around to put a wrench in his hand, he looked up from his tinkering to look at the machine incorporated into his back. "Beautiful," he whispered. The claw on it chirped in some strange sort of satisfaction. "The brilliance of A.I.," he marveled, as he flexed his new extremities. "And I did this. I gave this brilliant thought, this brilliant dream to life and here it is now, part of me once again." A chuckle escaped him. "We'll own this city, won't we?" he asked his arms. "Yes, we will. Once this project is completed, once my success is sure, then God knows what else I can do? This whole damn town is my playground, even now!" Octavius shouted to the darkness. He was vaguely aware of the sounds of the city in the distance, and he began to walk toward the window of his ruinous lab on the lower two tentacles of his back. "Hot town, summer in the city..." he sang softly to himself. "I'm New York's biggest freakin' nightmare! Let's see if the itsy bitsy spider can climb up the water spout fast enough to save a few lives." He continued out the doorway, into the heart of downtown Manhattan.
The screams started moments later...