( do we need to guess who this is for at this point )
Everyone had a threshold for dealing with shit and Harry had finally exceeded his.
Amid all the threats and not-so-accidental accidents, Octavius finally made a move. It was only thanks to an overpowered stun-gun Peter made him that Harry escaped. Octavius had gotten arrogant, moved just close enough to get in range, then ZAP. Both Octavius and the tentacles went on a fritz, throwing Harry to the ground. He was lucky to have gotten away with nothing worse than a gash on his shoulder and a mess of bruises from the encounter. But more than anything, it simply wasn't enough just to survive Octavius anymore.
Harry knew - now more than ever - that he needed to fight back. He needed to save himself from this guy. --But how? Even the stun-gun could only do so much.
And then he kept wandering into the study for long periods of time, staring at the mirror, long since replaced to hide the lair behind it once more. The serum was gone. Destroyed. But the weaponry, the materials, the blueprints... all of that was still in there. Granted, he couldn't use any of it as is. It belonged to the Goblin, and Harry wouldn't follow in those dark footsteps. If he wanted to use them, he had to become something else; he had to redesign everything.
...But could he? Harry was no genius, after all.
And yet - while that was true, he was resourceful and creative-- and he did exactly what he set out to do. Not without blunder, of course. There were plenty of mishaps and imperfections, but he had access to the programs, the blueprints, the materials his father had left behind. With them, Harry was able to create a new suit, a new glider, new weapons-- all entirely of his own design. He started out just tentatively flying around in abandoned subway tunnels, building confidence in himself and his tech. Especially trying to keep a low profile. This was just to fight Octavius, he told himself. He didn't need any attention on him; he didn't want Peter finding out until he was sure he could pull this off. And he had honestly meant to avoid heroics-- but then one day, he saw someone in trouble on his way to his makeshift training grounds. It seemed too cruel not to help.
They had been so grateful, and for the first time in a long time, Harry was proud of himself. He actually made a difference! It was an exhilarating feeling.
After that, he made more of an effort to help people before heading off to the subway tunnels. He still tried to stay low-key about it, but a new guy swooping in to save people was bound to get some attention. Today, he was even using the opportunity to test out a new gadget: a snare he'd built from razor bat scraps. It was supposed to lock onto a target and - when within range - break open and shoot out a cord that would ideally restrain said target. He was hoping to figure out a way to tie down Octavius' smart arms with it, but he figured this stupid mugger - trying to take off with some lady's purse - was as good of practice as any. The lock-on feature worked great, but the cord thing? ...Not so much. It just kind of ended up clotheslining the guy more than anything. ...Oops.
Thanks to that, Harry ended up staying behind longer than he wanted to, making sure the woman got her stuff back and that the mugger was properly restrained this time. In a hurry not to draw any more attention to himself than he already had, he was quick to return to his glider and hurtle off into the sky, hoping to get to the abandoned subway tunnels without further incident.
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"No," Peter snorted, shaking his head. "Although I do tend to collect them. Like they're drawn to me, sometimes. It's weird. Word on the street is there's a guy who can control ants. Weirdest superpower I've ever heard of." If Peter could control spiders, New York would have a 0% crime rate within a day.
"It's nothing if not grunge." Peter flipped forward, ass over head, and landed in a crouch in front of Harry. "Uh huh. I'm assuming I'd be paid in cash every week, since you can't write a check to 'Spiderman'."
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"Oh boy," Harry remarked in the most deadpan of tones. Granted, he was just imagining some Snow White-esque scenario in terms of collecting spiders. "...Normally, I'd say that's the lamest superpower ever, but I don't want to end up like that Russian guy from the last Indiana Jones movie." Getting dragged off and munched on by a bunch of huge safari ants? Nooo thanks.
"Geez--" It kept catching him off guard how nimble Spider-Man was. "You're an Olympian under that mask, aren't you?" Only half-joking. "Hey, if you were serious, I'd do whatever to keep you." But the media would probably manage to find a way to make that look bad. Like... 'Oscorp brainwashes Spider-Man!' He had to refrain from groaning out loud at how annoying that would be.
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"I'll catch them and leave them on your balcony, smart ass." Peter challenged, smirking beneath the mask. He would, too. Of course Peter would be the Snow White of spiders. This was his life now. "Snails would be the lamest. They'd never be able to catch anybody."
"I wish. Does this place look like I'm paid handsomely?" Peter snorted and moved over to the edge of the landing, nodding towards the big, open warehouse. It had chains, where he'd practiced his swinging, along with some dips and cobbled-together ramps for his skateboarding. "Oh, yeah? Draw up a contract, buddy, we'll see."
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"You have to figure out where I live first," Harry shot back. Does he sing badly to the spiders, too? "Okay, yeah-- that would be really sad. What are snails even good for anyway?" Wait-- no. Harry held a hand up, firmly shaking his head. "That wasn't an invitation for another nerd lesson. Please."
Once Spider-Man gestured to the warehouse, Harry followed him and gave the rest of the hideout a more of a look-over. "Could just be a cover? It's hard to get resources without bringing attention to yourself." That, he had plenty of experience on. Exhibit A: "You should see all the failed prototypes for my sword. I had to pretty much figure it out for myself or I'd get all these people asking me why I was having swords made. That'd look great for my image." He honestly didn't think the warehouse was all that bad though. "This is still pretty cool. You did it all yourself, right?"
"Well, maybe I will."
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"...really? You think it'd be hard to find out where Harry Obsorn lives?" Come on, it's almost insulting - it took zero skill to find that information. "Hey!" Peter laughed, too caught off guard to be indignant. They were falling into their regular banter, and even though it was making him a little nervous that Harry might catch him - well, it was still Harry.
"Haven't signed over my soul to Tony Stark's candy-ass boy band, so no health benefits for Spidey." Peter tilted his head, smiling despite himself. He should be more worried that Harry was testing weapons without him but - well, come on, the sword was pretty cool. "Swords are a little more conspicuous than buying chemicals for webbing, I'll give you that one." Or the multiple trips to Hobby Lobby for spandex. They probably thought he was a fetishist.
"Homegrown superhero," Peter snorted to himself, shooting a web and swinging down to the ground, rattling a few chains on the way. "Alright, Osborn, let's see what you've got."
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"It's not like I advertise where my home is!" But Spider-Man wasn't wrong. Octavius had figured it out easily enough, and the reminder made Harry quickly swallow his words. Who else could come after him if they wanted to? Shaking off the thought, Harry eagerly moved on.
Harry opened his mouth to make some remark about Stark, then thought better of it. He probably shouldn't shit-talk an Avenger to another superhero. It wasn't exactly a mystery that he wasn't fond of Tony Stark, but he had to at least be semi-professional about it now. Cue a lopsided and amused grin instead of words.
Well, Spider-Man was something all right. He made all this look so easy. The glider whirred back to life and autopiloted over to Harry, who still stared over the edge of the landing, trying his damnedest not to look like a deer in the headlights. This is what they were here for, after all-- not to make small talk. He was only partially successful in his endeavor, but hopped on the glider to ease his way down to Spider-Man's level all the same. "Okay... well." He rubbed his neck, taking a breath. "Where do you want me to start? Flying or--"
Or the thing he had minuscule experience with: fighting.
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"Bet you ten bucks I could literally ask any reporter."
After three years, you'd think he'd have something to show for it. He waited, watching Harry glide down to him, taking in the new flight pattern. Seemed he could call the glider without saying anything, and it was pretty quiet, save for the gentle whirring; Peter wouldn't be able to hear it if he wasn't listening specifically. "I'm going to work under the assumption that you can fly, since we don't have the equipment to tinker."
"I think we should start slow. I'll come at you, and you just try to keep away." That's essentially what Otto would be doing, anyway.
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"No-- I'd really rather not know how easy it is to find me." Really. It would just make him even more paranoid.
The glider itself had two different modes: the standard mode and then what he had just ended up dubbing 'skateboard mode'. At the press of a switch, the propulsion of the glider could pivot, changing the way it maneuvered. 'Skateboard mode' had the benefit of being faster and more accustomed to narrow places, while the standard mode was more stable and easier for Harry to balance. He would switch between them freely but rely more heavily on the standard mode. Speeding through long subway tunnels was one thing. In here, he'd probably just knock himself out.
Back up, the mask went. He'd crashed enough times on his own to know that he didn't want to leave his face guard down for this. "Okay," he said, taking another deep breath before bending his knees into a more prepared stance on the glider. "I'm ready."
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"You sure? I mean are you really sure?" He spread his hands, deceptively unprepared even as Harry put up his defenses, readied his glider. Part of Spiderman's advantage was the ability to come out of seemingly nowhere. "You tell me to stop if I come close to actually hurting you, okay? Seriously."
And then Peter's in the air, swinging over Harry's head and shooting a web at his shoulder, from behind, in an attempt to disorient. He's also quick, flighty, probably moreso than Otto, which would be good practice.
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But don't worry. If Harry feels like he's in any actual danger, he will definitely let it be known. Probably with flailing and yelling.
Right off the bat, it was a strain to keep track of Spider-Man, so Harry didn't even try. If he could just keep a general idea of the guy's position, that should - hopefully - be enough. For now, Harry just focused on staying away and immediately jetted off into the opposite direction Spider-Man went, narrowly avoiding the web as he went weaving into a half-circle that would turn him around to face the superhero again.
That's assuming he wasn't already still on the move.
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"Not half bad," Peter's on Harry's right, swinging off the wall, feet first, towards him.
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So distracted by trying to maintain his balance, Harry almost didn't see Spider-Man flying towards him from the right. He cried out in surprise and ended up tipping forward, almost immediately dropping out of the air to swerve underneath Spider-Man's feet. He was able to quickly right himself with some arm flailing before pulling back up to a reasonable height, but he was a far cry from being stable.
If Spider-Man was quick to follow up, Harry would most likely either fall off or crash into something.
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Peter came at him again, this time from above. Alternating direction was one of his tactics for distraction and disorientation. If the enemy couldn't guess where you'd be coming from, they couldn't prepare.
He also hasn't factored in Harry falling. That's a worst case scenario that would probably end in Peter diving to save him, for obvious reasons.
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He knew he screwed up when he couldn't correct himself and Spider-Man was already coming at him again. It had to be a split-second decision, and the only thing he could do to get out of the way in time was push the glider into going faster. It would have been a lot safer just to crash into Spider-Man, he belatedly realized when he promptly crashed into a chain. "Whoa--!" The glider shot out from under him as he clutched to the chain, but it soon compensated. With its pilot gone, it began beeping and blinking red, tracking Harry until it was hovering underneath him.
Even with the glider poised to catch him, Harry just... dangled on the chain for a minute, sucking in a deep breath. "This is not how I imagined this would go." It was something of an eye-opener, too. This was a lot harder than he thought it would be. Don't mind him while he tries to shimmy down the chain, because he's too afraid to jump off and hope the glider will catch him. He wiggled his feet when he got close to the bottom, searching for the footholds on the glider before slowly letting go.
"Okay..." He held his hands out, steadying himself. "It's fine. I'm good."
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"It's really not bad," Peter admitted, staring at Harry warily, anticipating the worst. "Held on longer than I thought, if we're being honest. The keepaway game is really key, but we're also going to have to work on counter attacks. Dodging only buys you time."
"This next time, I want you to try and hit me back. Just fists, though, or if you have any non-blood-drawing weapons. Just patched the suit."
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Spider-Man's next instructions get some incredulousness. "Counterattack? I can barely keep track of you! How am I supposed to counterattack?"
All Harry had on him were blades, blades, and more blades. Even on his glider. It was kind of overkill, honestly, but that's how you knew Harry designed it. "Fists it is then," he replied nervously, crouching a bit on the glider in preparation again.
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"You don't need to keep track of me. Let me come to you - it's always better to be the chased rather than the chaser. At least, in my experience. Being the aggressor puts you at a disadvantage." Most of the time, anyway.
"I'll make it fair. No web globs," Peter held up his hand in a girl scout's sign. "Scout's honor."
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"Try telling that to past me in high school," Harry grumbled. It seemed like counterproductive advice, but then-- this was Spider-Man. He knew what he was doing better than Harry did. He was just going to have to trust him, even as he was about 95% positive he was about to get his butt handed to him.
He smiled beneath his mask, but shook his head. "No... Octavius isn't gonna play fair. Just do what you think is best, okay? I'll figure it out."
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"Well, you gotta know where to lead. If I'm chasing you, you control which direction we move in. Use it to your advantage."
Peter sighed, shaking his head. "No, come at me with your weapons then. Hand to hand is only useful when the other person doesn't have a huge tech advantage on you - we'll have to practice both."
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Jerking up, Harry's back immediately straightened in surprise. The mask retracted back again; Harry looked genuinely concerned. "What? No way! These weapons are--" Well, he built them to be lethal. It's less that Harry thought of himself as a threat to Spider-Man and more-- "I don't wanna accidentally hurt you." He would probably never forgive himself. "We can figure out a different way to practice."
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"No, you don't. If you hurt me, I'd rather it be on purpose." Well there's one good thing - if Harry knew it was Peter under that mask he definitely wouldn't do it. "You need practice, and I'll heal. Trust me, I know how to deflect a knife. Just don't go for anything that'll kill me."
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"But--!" Absolutely not. Harry'd rather get his butt kicked than turn a blade on Peter. "Except this isn't a knife!" He gestured to the sword on his back. "Remember? Electroshock sword?" If it actually works, it'd pack a punch. Enough to disable at least one of Octavius's smart arms if he could pierce them. The wicked-looking blades on his arm weren't much better. He looked totally unsure; he didn't trust himself enough not to screw this up somehow. "I really don't wanna take the chance."
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"Okay, electric sword, come on, Harry, how are you meant to get better if you don't practice?" Hence the totally-not-telling-him. "How do you know I don't have a few tricks up my sleeve for electricity, anyway?" The webbing didn't conduct, a byproduct of his run-in with Electro. Gwen's doing, really. "And I do. Seriously, I've healed from a lot worse."
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"I don't know, but I wasn't planning on using this thing on a living person that wasn't Octavius!" Which is a good thing, really. "That doesn't exactly help with the--" Harry paused to jab his fingers in the air to signify 'stabbing'. A few seconds passed before Harry sighed, arms hanging at his sides in defeat. "That doesn't make me feel better, 'cause I don't want to hurt you at all."
A huff and then: "You're really stubborn, you know that?"
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"It's one of my many talents, right next to annoying cops."
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