AN: Here it is, the long awaited Oc fic. And for some beginner notes...

This is movieverse style Oc. Any comic inaccuracies should be accepted. If you can't deal then stop reading so psh.

I love critiques. But don't flame. I'll laugh at you if you flame. Really, I will.

Thanks to Zhe, Kat, other Kat, Savage Lucy, and everyone else who helped me write this. And especially thanks to Sam Raimi and Alfred Molina for bringing Oc to life!

Yes. In this fic, his name is spelled Oc in this fanfic. Why? Because I said so. So :p.

You see things that can't happen in this fanfic? It's a fic. I'll take some creative liberties.

Smack me if you think Kat is a Mary Sue.

Ah yes, disclaimers....I do not own Mr. Octavius. Nor do I own his tentacles hysterical sobbing. Basically, if you recognize it from the book movie, comic or otherwise, I do not own it. I DO own Kat. So THERE!

And without further ado..

Our Future

By the tentacles... err...me, aka Karina of Darkness.

1

She was determined – he'd give her that. For almost twenty days now, she'd been working on this project. Failed three times between those days, none of them in the least successful. Of course, he knew what she was doing wrong. He'd noticed it the first time she had failed. But he couldn't tell her...that would have sealed his fate for sure. Probably her fate as well. So he'd kept his mouth shut and watched her day after day.

Such was the life of Doctor Otto Octavius, more infamously known as Doc Oc. The fusion-scientist turned freak mutant turned criminal couldn't go into the open without running the risk of getting caught by the police or hurting civilians. He'd done enough of that under his arms' influence, and now that the two minds had made a pact, he had no intention to do any more of it.

Spiderman thought him dead, as did everyone else. And although he longed for renown, longed to announce himself to the world, to continue working on what he had been working on, to finally BE successful---but what he had done in his failures already had made it clear that he should not be making miniature suns...that he should not be playing with forces humans couldn't control.

He chuckled dryly to himself as he pondered on this. His meddling had put him in this conundrum to begin with – fused with four extra mechanical tentacles that doubled as arms and legs, also with a personality that didn't always agree with him. It had been that which had driven him to this circumstance of watching silently.

The arms, he came to realize, were shrewd and ruthless, a powerful combination. It was not easy to sway them from what they wanted, but the man was a good bargainer, and the two creatures lived on day-to-day truces and bargains, an uneasy alliance between machine and human.

Otto was now intently aware that the arms were listening to his thoughts. They were intelligent –oh, there was no doubt about that—and very, very powerful. Besides this, his original AI for them, the desire to create this project, had somehow morphed, mutilated, and adapted into a mind with a thirst for destruction. He had always thought it was "them", the rest of New York City, were to blame for his mistake – so they needed to be punished. However, he'd never tipped this off to the arms, and hidden it in his unshared thoughts. Despite their intelligence however, the arms did not understand his problems with his own conscience or the sayings he would use, and would often question them. Nor did they approve of his shame at his own actions. The company is good for my health, the man reflected, though, I suppose, the exact choice on WHAT the company IS could not be healthy.

He shook his head to shake off his thoughts and peeked into the woman's window again. Letting two of the arms hold on the opposite sides of the window frame, the other two looked up and down and around, the concept of boredom running through the arms' thoughts and therefore, the Doc's as well.

The sun began to rise in another day of his new life. Peeking over the horizon, it shed more and more light on the traffic jammed streets of New York City. Cars were lost in the sea of yellow cabs, streetlights, sidewalks and people.

He quickly scaled several more feet up the building and pressed himself to the wall as the owner of the apartment opened the window and stuck her head out. He was always a little afraid she'd look up one day, but that day never came. A small, feminine head, surrounded by a river of brown hair stuck out into the open air from twenty stories high. The woman breathed in the deep air and smirks, chuckling to herself.

"Ah, the smells of the city, pollution, smog, stagflation, and everything other bad stuff that is here in the Big Apple."

This was ritual to the Doc by now. The woman always said something to this effect when she stuck her brown head out the window. After taking another deep breath, she pulled her head back into her apartment and shut the window. Otto cautiously ordered the arms back down, so he could see her work.

The arms hissed their fidgetiness into his mind with more impatience now. He knew they would do something out of control if he ignored them for too long (he heard the sounds of consent at this thought) so he merely told them to stay off the ground.

The arms took off the moment he finished the thought. They plunged almost carelessly ahead, making scrapes on the brick. With speed that even the doctor admired, they circled the large building twice in less then ten minutes, and then scaled the building, taking huge leaps and a few chunks of brick out as the arms dug in. Once, he had been concerned about the noise. The arms had reassured him it wouldn't be a problem, and they were right. It became ritual for the arms to take their 'stretch' early in the morning as the sun rose, before most people were awake enough to care about it. And those who cared were now driving to wherever they went. Those who cared and were still in their apartments didn't look out their windows fast enough, or only saw the slightest hint of sun off metal.

With that same mechanical ease the arms stood up on the ceiling of the building. Considering that three of the arms were planted on the ground lifting him up, the arms were standing more then him. The fourth arm reached into his pocket and handed him his sunglasses, which were tediously placed on his face by said mechanical arm. He leaned back as if he were sitting in a reclining chair, the arms and suit supporting him. He sighed a bit, closing his eyes as the sun began to beat down on him, absorbing the warmth.

Sensing his depression, the arms chittered their thanks to him for their random climbing time and sunk him to the floor. He leaned against one of the raised parts of the roof and closed his eyes, absorbing the sunlight. His extra arms sunk back onto the ground, blinking and looking around. There are few moments like this anymore, He thought to himself, where I can just sit and relax. Might as well enjoy the moment.

For a good fifteen minutes or so he basked in the sun's warmth, the tentacles drifting around aimlessly, looking for something to amuse themselves with. After those fifteen minutes, they finally gave up trying to let the man have some peace and thought their boredom to Otto, who nodded in agreement and finally stood, then let the arms lift him into the air and climbed back down the building to watch the woman again.

She was still working on her experiment. From the looks of it, she had failed once more already and was starting over again. Again, he'd hand it to her—she was determined.

He was about to chuckle to himself about her newest error when his stomach growled. Octavius groaned – finding food was difficult. He had developed a new way to acquire the said food – when the woman left the room, he'd sneak in and grab a few bites from her refrigerator, then eat them and watch her from her window again. Again, he always ran the risk of being discovered doing this, but there were so few things that one could do secretly with four extra tentacles, that being discovered by this woman seemed a minor threat when compared to being discovered buying something at the local Burger King.

He watched her till she grumbled something inaudibly, and then stalked out of the room. With a quiet, graceful movement, one of the tentacles slid up her window while the rest of them worked on sliding through the now open entrance. The doctor was the last one into the room, and at this time three of the tentacles were already opening the appliance and telling the human what was in the refrigerator. Deciding on a yogurt, a bottle of coke, and several green peppers, the arms grabbed the food, closed the refrigerator and began to exit, when the Doc gave them a sharp order to remember the spoon. The arms thought their displeasure to him, then nabbed the spoon and quickly and quietly made haste out of the kitchen, out of the lab, back out the open window, closed it, then handed the food to Otto and sat themselves on the wall so the man could eat his (or, rather her) lunch.

Several moments later the woman came back from wherever she had gone, and then meandered into her kitchen. Octavius prepared himself for what was too come, and when the arms asked why he tensed, he replied that the woman was going to scream.

"WHERE THE HELL IS MY FOOD?!?! WHO IS TAKING MY FOOD?!?!" She swore at the top of her lungs and stuck her head out the window as he pressed himself close to wall, trying to avoid being seen, "SPIDERMAN, are you STEALING MY FOOD! YOU...STUPID BUG!" She swore several times before slamming the window and locking it as the man crept back down from his spot and glanced in again.

The Doctor had to bite back his laughter. All this time, the woman had been blaming Spiderman for his food-theft. It was interesting indeed.

"That's BLASTED IT! I'm TELLING THE STUPID BUGLE ABOUT THAT FOOD THEIF!" She sat down at the computer in the lab and began typing furiously.

Carefully and silently, one of his tentacles pressed itself to the window, peering in and trying to see what the woman was typing. Oc blinked, sending out his visual receivers to see what the arm was seeing.

Mr. Jameson,

Recently I have been aware of your hostile attitude towards Spiderman. Up until very recently I though you were mislead and misinformed. However, it has come to my attention that Spiderman is exactly how you say he is. It appears that he has a penchant for stealing food out of my refrigerator while I am not looking. If you would like to make a story out of this please reply as soon as possible.

Sincerely,

Katarina Morrigan

She clicked the send button as Oc blinked back his vision into his own eyes. He grinned to himself as he munched the stolen pepper, then watched the woman (who, he now knew her name was Katarina) work on her chemistry experiment, failing again. He strolled leisurely up the building, exchanging in brief conversation with the arms. Even now he marveled at his own genius to be able to create something like this. They were able to engage in intelligent conversation, questioning his thoughts and ideas and even opposing some of them.

He spent most of his time exploring or watching. The tentacles knew enough that they had to be almost quiet and avoid the streets, so they mostly scaled roofs and building, watching and learning.

The sun rolled high into the sky as he thanked his worn, brimmed hat from protecting him from the sun. Regardless, however, sweat beaded on his features as he sat down in a shady spot and rested. On roofs, there wasn't much shade, so he thanked his extra arms for providing it. They chirped a 'you're welcome' as Otto closed his eyes and drifted into a nap.

He woke up to the familiar mechanical red eye in his face, and one of the arms nudging him. He also woke to a strange pain in his back. Rolling over, one of the tentacles rose up and thought its displeasure. His new arms told him that he had apparently rolled over onto one of arms in his sleep, and any attempt to remove the doctor would end up with him falling. So the arm had sat very uncomfortably under Octavius until it merely ran out of patience and urged its fellow mechanical arms to awake him so the appendage could move again.

Otto thanked the arms for letting him sleep, then apologized to the one he has slept on, which thought back its acceptance. He stood up and looked around, his eyes focusing on the sun. The arms answered his unspoken question: It was almost six o'clock. His stomach rumbled painfully again, and he sighed. The arms also wanted to practically fly across some more buildings

Let me get some food first, and then you can run. He thought to them. One of the arms nodded as the symbiotic being climbed down to Katarina's window. As he suspected (and the arms agreed), her window was unlocked again. One of the arms peeked in, saw nothing, and nodded. Two of the arms opened the window and he pulled himself into the house. Two of the arms opened the fridge while other two grabbed the peanut butter and jelly, the third the bread and the knife.

He turned to leave as a sharp pain ran though one of his tentacles. His mechanical arms lashed out at the offender. A high pitched squeal emitted from the shadow. where the arms had reached out too.

A familiar violence rose within his mind. This creature- this vile creature that DARED touch us in such a way should PAY! They would filet the flesh from her bones with his four arms......

I have six arms.