NOVOCAINE.

/

Tabitha made a face, letting her disgust be known. “Just say you like eating shit and be done with it. If you’re lucky, I might even stop making fun of you.” That was a lie. There was no route in which Harry could take that Tabitha didn’t find something else to poke fun at him over. It was a favorite pastime of hers — not only in Harry’s direction, but anyone with money… and well, anyone who knew her.

His question though, made her realize that he had no idea that she was a mutant. It was one of those moments where she remembered that she passed as human as long as she didn’t open her big mouth about guns and bombs. And yet, she had already done that. But Harry hadn’t pieced it together yet. “I don’t need a gun when I have these bad boys,” she said, making a finger gun gesture and smirking at him. It would have been a funny joke if it wasn’t the truth. Her powers were all in her hands, manifesting bombs with ease and she would never be able to put her weapons down. They were built in. “Your team? What kind of team is like, ah yes, fucking carry a gun!”

Despite them coming from wildly different worlds, Harry wasn’t the worst. Tabitha wasn’t sure if he was amazing, but she had decided that she didn’t hate him. “You never know! There are freaks out there that dress up their victims. You could be next level crazy and just playing the cool rich guy role really well.” But she smirked in response, adjusting the jacket before nodding her head. “Oh, I know. I mean, look at me. You’d think it was made for me.”

Shrugging, Harry settled into an easy pace with the girl, smiling despite himself. He wasn’t sure what he enjoyed so much about a girl who treated him like crap - or one that played hard-to-get. After all, MJ had been the girl of his dreams, and he’d been chasing after Peter since they were teens. They eluded him, and in turn, he was drawn like a magnet.

“My team. You know, PR, finance, safety, blah blah.” The company would never be run the way he wanted it to - not when his father’s name still echoed down every immaculate hall. The urge to pull the napkin out of his pocket again, fold it neatly, and return it to its resting place overwhelmed him, but he managed to breathe through it, “Your team told you to walk around the streets of New York with your...surprisingly muscular arms and no way to defend yourself? Seems like a bad plan.”

Harry’s eyes darted around, focusing on a thousand different things at once, and Miguel couldn’t help but shift just a little when that gaze left him. He couldn’t help but think back to Tyler’s office, to the first time he’d ever felt the Rapture coursing through his veins, to the euphoria that gave way so quickly to paranoia, to anger, to grief. Harry looked back to him and Miguel schooled his expression, allowing no hint of his thoughts to display as he looked to the exhibit with a furrowed brow. It was only when Harry broke off and interrupted himself that Miguel’s expression shifted again, this time to one of amusement. “I was about to walk out the door,” he said dryly. “I was not gonna listen to you get deep about a fish, man.”

He followed Harry through the museum, glancing to exhibits with only mild interest. The discoveries, by Miguel’s terms, weren’t at all recent, and the way they were dressed up for easy digestion from the general public made them hardly scientific at all. Miguel would rather dissect the details, would rather see these things in a lab than on display. “Dark outlook. You sound like an eighty year old. Just saying.” Or a guy well into his hundreds. By the time Miggy was born, Harry would be just that. It was strange to think about now.

The scene around them shifted, the crowd thinning as they got to a portion of the exhibits most might consider boring. It wasn’t things made for touching, for experiencing. It was things only for viewing. Miggy’s interest was piqued, if only because of the lack of people. Most people, he’d learned, missed the most interesting parts of life when they let their boredom tell them it wasn’t entertaining enough. “You could always change it,” he offered. “Get out from under the shadow. Might be freeing.” He liked to think he would’ve changed his name if his mother had tacked his father’s on to his. If he’d been a Stone instead of an O’Hara, if Tyler had claimed him instead of pretending he didn’t exist. Miguel had enough of an issue with his step-father’s name. He didn’t think he would have accepted Tyler’s.

Slowing to a stop as they reached the area of the museum that was clearly why Harry had brought him here to begin with, Miguel whistled lowly. The stone was large and enchanting and, perhaps most importantly, unfamiliar. He’d never read anything about this in his scientific explorations, never seen it mentioned. That made it either too dull to earn a spot in scientific history or too dangerous for anyone to navigate their fear well enough to document it. By sight alone, Miguel was inclined to think it was the latter.

“You know I’m a geneticist, right? Rocks aren’t really my thing.” But he was circling the exhibit in spite of the words, tone thoughtful as he inspected the crystal. “You’d be better off with a geologist for this. Maybe a physicist for the energy. Someone with a little more knowledge of thermodynamics.”

He turned back to Harry, brow furrowed. “And you’ve got people who do all that, right? You rich guys, you can hire the best scientists around. Jack Horner. Bruce Banner. Reed Richards. So why come to me?” He paused, realizing he may have overestimated his place here. “Or is this more of a personal conversation? A ‘hey, Miggy, take a look at my cool rock,’ kind of thing?”

Harry smirks, crossing his arms over his chest as he watches Miguel take in the sight before him. The man’s comments aren’t unexpected - after all, the damned thing does just look like a big ‘ole rock with no significance. But Harry knows better, knows there’s something lurking under the shiny surface of the crystal.

“You’re right - if I wanted a geologist, I would have asked a geologist to look at it. In fact,” Clicking his tongue, Harry cuts himself off by staring at his nails for just a moment, suit jacket pulling tight over his shoulders, “I already asked one. Paid him handsomely, had him spend more time with the thing than he spent with his family.” Slowly, Harry looks back to the future Spider-Man, eyes seemingly darker than usual, almost covered in shadow with the green glow of the crystal lighting up the room around them, “And still, I have no answers.”

It takes one long moment for Harry to close in on Miguel, too close for comfort, if it had been anyone else. He knows it will likely make the scientist uncomfortable, and for a second, Harry wonders if Miguel has a Spidey-sense too. If it goes off, when he’s around Harry.

“You want to know what I think?” A grim smile, one of curiosity and a pinch of danger, “I think the reason they can’t understand what sort of rock this is, is because it isn’t a rock,” Harry whispers, reaching out to wipe at imaginary dust on Miguel’s sleeve, “I think this thing is alive.” He waits, letting his words sink in fully.

( 📩 → rich uncle pennybags ): fuck ( 📩 → rich uncle pennybags ): shit ( 📩 → rich uncle pennybags ): bitch ( 📩 → rich uncle pennybags ): because ( 📩 → rich uncle pennybags ): this is why ( 📩 → rich uncle pennybags ): goddammit  ( 📩 → rich uncle pennybags ): i’m not a killer harry ( 📩 → rich uncle pennybags ): am i? ( 📩 → rich uncle pennybags ): who are you kidding pete of course you are we all know that look at your body count ( 📩 → rich uncle pennybags ): i want to say i wish i could take it all back but he killed her harry ( 📩 → rich uncle pennybags ): murdered her in cold blood ( 📩 → rich uncle pennybags ): just to fuck with my head ( 📩 → rich uncle pennybags ): /fuck/ man it was self defense ( 📩 → rich uncle pennybags ): right? me or him ( 📩 → rich uncle pennybags ): i hate this ( 📩 → rich uncle pennybags ): i miss you ( 📩 → rich uncle pennybags ): i’m

[ … ]

( 📩 → rich uncle pennybags ): the tower has a pool

( 📩 → rich uncle pennybags ): look at that all caps reaction and circle back to me bro

[ … ]

( 📩 → rich uncle pennybags ): oh wow ok we’re gonna do this aren’t we ( 📩 → rich uncle pennybags ): it’s a temporary thing ( 📩 → rich uncle pennybags ): while i figure out what i’m doing next ( 📩 → rich uncle pennybags ): and, you know, getting through the /murder charges/ ( 📩 → rich uncle pennybags ): and it’s kind of avengers home base i feel like it’s a pretty reasonable decision which we both know is a rarity from me ( 📩 → rich uncle pennybags ): why are you asking now anyway? ( 📩 → rich uncle pennybags ): do u really just feel like harboring a wanted killer or ( 📩 → rich uncle pennybags ): what’s your endgame harry [unsent]

( text → bean pole ): Give me one good reason that your ‘temporary thing’ couldn’t be with me. Just one. ( text → bean pole ): Don’t make me say it. ( text → bean pole ): Don’t make me say it, Peter. ( text → bean pole ): Don’t ––

Mary Jane was busy looking over her social media when she asked him the question. Sometimes the thought of just focusing on modeling and being an influence crossed her mind, but to give up being a journalist? No, she could never. Maybe it was selfish of her but she liked the balanced she had. She liked writing and losing herself in a topic, but she enjoyed the attention she got of what she posted.

Nevertheless besides Peter and the others, Harry never failed to keep her grounded. Whether it be him teasing or just them being chaotic together, it felt like a breath of fresh air.

“Well Harold,” she said exaggerating the syllables of the name she only used when she teased him. “I asked if you read my tweets. I posted about how I’ve been maintaining my New Year’s resolution so far. Give it a like or a retweet pretty please, for me?” MJ asked as she flashed him one of her famous smiles.

.

Harry peeked over the edge of his sunglasses, brows furrowed, lips pulling into a slight frown. “Is that all I am to you? Media coverage?” Throwing his head back dramatically, Harry pulled the back of his hand over his forehead, pretending to be gutted about the implication. “That’s cruel, even for you!”

Still, Harry found himself going to her page, liking and retweeting multiple of her articles. There was always this string, he thought, attaching him to the girl. Even when she paid more attention to Parker, Harry found himself consistently trying to wiggle his way back into her spotlight again. The lack of attention at times left him breathless.

/

“Sure,” Miguel replied neutrally, glancing at the museum around them. To him, everything here was incredibly outdated. The cutting edge of scientific discovery in 2021 was old news by 2099, especially to a scientist of Miguel’s caliber with the number of advanced degrees he boasted. It was… interesting, but only in the way history was interesting. He was mostly here for Harry, which was an odd thing in and of itself. Miguel had never been someone who went anywhere for another person. 

Harry spoke again, and Miguel snorted. “Really? No time at all? You could be meeting people right now. There’s someone, right over there.” He gestured across the room to an elderly man leaning heavily on a cane. “If you mess up the introduction, he probably won’t hear it. Instant do-over.” His grin faltered when Harry turned back towards him, and he made a face. “I don’t need to meet people. What did Peter say? He’s full of it. I’ve got people.” He wondered if it was true.

Following Harry’s pointing, Miguel looked to the statue with a snort. “This is hardly science. This shit’s all for show. Dress it up in a way that makes people ooh and ah. Real science isn’t pretty.” Real science was hours upon hours of research in labs with people who really didn’t like you, in Miguel’s experience. “You’re opening a museum?”

. . .

Harry’s eyes followed a few passerbys, blue flickering back to Miggy once they’d gone out of his vision completely. The paranoia has gotten worse, he thought, tapping the glass where the fish resided within the belly of the stone. “It’s symbolic - there’s a living beast within every facade~” The serious look stays for just a moment before he couldn’t hold in the laughter anymore, chuckling like a goon. “God, I’m just kidding. MJ would say that kind of crap though.”

They walk further into the museum, different exhibits passing with each set of steps. “I don’t have time to meet people that interest me. Not anyone worth what little time I can give them,” The words were fairly pointed, looking at the space between them with a shrug, “I’ve got better things to do than entertain anybody.” That’s why all of my relationships are quick fucks and my best friend is also my enemy, he didn’t say.

They came upon a great entrance, a fairly new piece in the museum, and there were far less children in the area, considering it was something for viewing, rather than playing. In fact, the area was quiet, sans one or two workers, and the duo standing before the roped off piece. “I want to open up many things. It’s a process, monopolizing an area of business. Even more so when you’ve got the name Osborn trailing your back.”

In the middle of the room lay what looked like a large crystal. The stone went halfway to the 100ft ceiling, and was wide enough to take up almost the entire expansion the room had clearly custom built for it. The energy around it seemed to buzz for just a moment, and then lit up green, a glow emitting along with the soft sound of energy.

“The reason I brought you here was this.” Harry pointed to the monolith, then subsequently shoved his hands in the pockets of his chinos. “They found this supposed ‘meteorite’ a few weeks back. I supplied some funds for it to be showcased here.”

@himbogoblin​

River’s feet moved with purpose, determination, and a plan. This was a man who was on a mission, and wasn’t going to let anyone or anything get in his way. His mission? To get home and to relax after working a long shift. It wouldn’t be so long if one of his bartenders hadn’t called in or something. Something about being sad that their pet died or something. But that was okay…Because after the way that shift had worked out? River was planning on giving the two an opportunity to meet once more and stay together. Because River was pretty sure he was going to kill that little bitch the next time he sees her, before draining her of her blood. 

River should be happy…Should be ecstatic that the club seems to be such a success. Hell, at this rate? He’ll have multiple clubs all around the world in only a year. But River also wanted to relax…To have some time to just chill. Sadly, it feels like the universe has been working against him on that recently. And it appears that the universe doesn’t plan on stopping. 

“Fuck! How about you watch where you’re going next time, asswipe?” River growled as he glared at the man that he had just bumped into, not in the mood and quite clearly annoyed.”You do have two eyes, right? Why don’t you use them to watch where your going!?”

.

Harry’s got a bad habit of staring at his phone when it’s fairly inconvenient. Really, in the age of advanced technology, everybody’s got that problem, he thinks, shoulder jerking as he collides with the man in front of him. Blue eyes flash with irritation, his phone cracking against the sidewalk below when it falls from his hand. The screen is likely shattered, and Harry can’t find it in himself to care, since he can get one here in just a few short hours. Could ask one of his workers for theirs’, if he wanted.

No, it’s not the phone that makes him angry, it’s the words that the guy throw’s at him next. Something has been building in the Osborn heir, something electric and irritated. The dark patch that’s appeared on his ribcage recently, itchy and scaly, seems to vibrate in response of the recognition.

“I’ve also got two fists, dick.”