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[certaininequities]

WELCOME TO YOUR PRIVATE CHANNEL, DR_OSBORN.

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<DR_OSBORN> You've reached Dr. Norman Osborn.
<DR_OSBORN> Please leave a message: I'll respond as promptly as possible.

Other Handles:
[Back2Formula] regular anon * [Pierglass] trolling anon * [LutinVert] Goblin/Alton Mode * [EpigaeaMemoriam] Support Group anon

Comments

[certaininequities]

Yeah, no, trust me, no alien ships here unless you want to see them.

[he figures this has something to do with that Snap that Peter mentioned, and decides to not ask for more details.]

I had a sandwich earlier. I'm good. Here, it's this way...

[the hallways are lit with neon accents, and Peter might think it does look a little bit like a spaceship inside, save for the signs hanging from the fork in the corridor that say '<-- PRIVATE ROOMS' and 'ARENA -->'. Norman leads them off to the left, and gestures for Peter to open the first door.]

Here. After you.

[when he opens the door, Peter will find himself stepping right onto the streets of Queens. It's Norman's Queens, so some of the details are bound to be different, but ... it's still absolutely obvious what Norman's done for him]

< HasNoFear >

[summonthesuit]

['Namby-pamby feminine nonsense'? Sir... Steven's glad Norman apparently doesn't feel that way anymore, but wow. To a guy from an MCU installment set in 2025, that sentiment is wild.]

The arcade belonging to the Fourth God, you mean? I could go for that. I haven't been inside yet and I'm kind of curious. Are you sure it's ok for a non-follower like me to go in, though? I'd hate to tick off a god. Never ends well.

[heyunderoos]

[Peter's gaze keeps flicking around the halls, curious but also mildly wary. The inside looks space ship-y enough to make him wonder who even built this place.

Not that the thought lasts particularly long as they come to a door. He opens it as instructed and walks forward into the room.

The sight of Queens immediately just knocks the air out of the teenager. It isn't exactly the neighborhood as he remembers it, but its close enough he stumbles forward. His grip tightening on the backpack straps as his breath shakes.]

...Oh.

[certaininequities]

[Norman watches him carefully, keeping his distance but wanting desperately to touch his shoulder]

... is this okay? Should I have done something else?

[heyunderoos]

I- no, no, its- [He sucks in another breath, and another, trying to regain his composure. He doesn't want to cry. He doesn't want to break down again.

His voice is very small when he does speak again.]

Its good. Thank you.

[heyunderoos]

Still. [No one wants to hear about dead family members. Peter is well aware of that much.]

Did you have any hobbies? Like, sometimes I did dance and stuff. You were probably pretty busy, but- still, feels like a good thing to know. You could pick up old hobbies here too.

[certaininequities]

[he paused, not wanting to stammer his way through it. once he was sure he had his words in order. this was an important moment - and he'd learned how to make his words count in those. he'd just always misclassified them as board meetings, speeches, sound bytes. not moments with treasured people, full of emotion. no more of that. he was making sure he remembered what was really important.]

When I first arrived here, and I learned about this building: about why Elias built it for everyone, and what it could do? I only wanted to see one place: home. I don't know exactly what your home looked like, I wasn't there long enough, so ... This was as close as I could come. If you want, I can teach you the programming parameters, so you can make whatever you like, for some other time.

[the rest of the words come so easily, because he's said some of them before. he means them no less now than he did then. maybe, he hopes, this time, he'll get to make good on them]

I haven't been there for you the way I should have. Not by a long shot. I shouldn't have been so afraid to tell you everything, and I should have told you right away. But I want to make it up to you, Peter: I want to rectify every single one of those inequities. I know it won't happen overnight. But -

[he realizes he's done well to make it this far without faltering, without giving in to the raging hurricane of guilt, self-doubt, and self-loathing swirling through him. one hesitation might not look like a glaring weakness. he hopes it doesn't. he finally grasps that courage he was searching for, and puts his hand on Peter's forearm]

No matter what he did ... I still love you.

[certaininequities]

That's the one. Elias welcomes visitors as long as they're respectful. But you say that as if you've actually interacted with a god. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't at least a little curious about that.

cw: vague suicidal idealation

[heyunderoos]

[Peter at best manages a few steps further, just looking at everything. He exhales slowly, tipping his head back as he listens to the sounds of Queens. It feels alive, eletric with activity. He can hear people going about their lives in the neighborhood.

If he pretends, if he just pretends...

Then Norman speaks, breaking the silence between them. The teenager turns back to the man. Peter doesn't interrupt, just soaking in Norman's words.]

I wish you had told me sooner. [It's an echo of words said to Otto. Not exact, but a simple enough statement. He does wish it had come before the goblin appeared, so the goblin hadn't been armed with so many secrets. So, he hadn't been able to hurt Otto and everyone else so badly.

Peter wishes none of it had happened, but wishes don't really mean much here and now.

What would May want? That's a question Peter ask himself. May never held a grudge, even when it was seemingly deserved. Peter never really could either. Like mother like son]

There is... a part of me that won't forgive you, not for a long time. May is- May shouldn't have died. I don't want to believe it. I'd rather be dead, it should have been me, not her.

I know- I know Goblin isn't you, but this is... so much. I'm so tired of everything being torn away from me as soon as I feel okay or safe.

[He rubs at his eyes a little, unable to keep tears from stinging at his eyes. He hesitates before placing his hand over the top of Norman's own.]

I still love you too. That hasn't changed. It's why I even- I even wanted to celebrate father's day with you.

[certaininequities]

Peter -!

[it's just one quiet protest, when he says he should have died and not May. then he holds himself back, and gives the boy space to talk. he nods, his face crinkling with sympathy and remorse. when Peter starts to cry, Norman squints, hating to see him in pain ...

and then Peter reciprocates, and suddenly they're both crying. Norman wraps his arms around Peter, pulling him into a gentle hug]

Every single thing you feel is valid, but one, and it's the only thing I'll correct you on: no one should have died.

[he steps back, not wanting to prolong the contact for so long that he frightens Peter or puts him back in any sort of place where he feels threatened.]

Peter, you're so good. I see so much of her in you: that kind heart, the compassion, all those things that He tried to spin as weakness ... I know the truth, I see them as so much strength. And I - I want to be more like you both. Which is why I'm askin' you to hold on to that anger. Keep it safe, in a special place somewhere. Take it out and show it to me if I'm being anything less than what you want me to be. What I should be.

[heyunderoos]

[Peter sniffles a little, tears starting to freely spill down his cheeks. He can't stop the tears now. He wishes he could.

He squeezes Norman gently before the man pulls away completely.] Yeah, I- I guess that's fair. No one should have died. [If he had been stronger, he could have achieved that.

He nods tearfully at that. He wipes at his eyes a little.] I can't say it'll be anger, but... I can remind you, if need be.

I just want everything to be okay.

[certaininequities]

[an odd look crosses Norman's face at the absolutely unabashed mention of dance. if he'd wanted to do that in high school he would have had the desire beat right out of him, and he's ... strangely jealous. but the feeling doesn't last long enough for him to properly register, as he has to think of a response]

Uhm, mostly I just studied in my spare time, tinkered around. Wrote papers for scientific journals, that sort of thing. I did yoga in the mornings - still do that here. Been thinking of checking out that museum everyone's talking about ... one of the few things my ex-wife left me that I still enjoy is an eye for art. I had quite a collection of masks from different cultures, at home. A couple of paintings.

[certaininequities]

Oh, Peter ...
'
[that does it, that wasn't nearly enough hug for him now that he's crying. Norman goes in for another one and just ... holds him, this time.]

It will be. We all care about each other too much for it not to.

[he keeps his voice soft, soothing, as he reaches up and strokes his hair, the way he did when they were in that comfortable pile, the last good memory before it all fell apart. maybe he's trying to pull that forward into the present, to keep it alive. maybe he's reaffirming that it never actually died, even though both of them did.]

You let out as much of that as you need to. It's okay.

[as he says it, some little lock inside him clicks open. a piece of green armor falls away and corrodes into dust]

[heyunderoos]

[Peter misses dance classes. His asthma had been too bad to really keep it up for long. He doesn't quite understand the expression that passed over Norman's features.] I mean, yoga has some similar stuff to dance. That'd be good to do if you were interested? I dunno if you can write for journals here unless you make one.

I haven't been to like an actual museum in like, forever. I was supposed to go to the MOMA but aliens happened. [His life is just like this.] MJ is more the artist than I am. I think its cool you have a really good eye for it, I feel kinda oblivious honestly.

[heyunderoos]

[There is no fight against the hug. Maybe a brief surprise at another hug, but the surprise melts away. He leans into the hug. He presses his face best he can against Norman's shoulder.

Peter weakly laughs, tears leaving a wet trail down the fur on his cheeks.]

I've cried too much already... I- I didn't even see her die and- [He chokes on the next sentiment, unable to finish it.] It's not fair, it's not fair.

look at these two dorks ugh my heart

[certaininequities]

[he hadn't expected Peter to encourage him like that, and a tiny smile touches one corner of his mouth]

I am taking a couple of lessons from Lanzhu for that gala thing in a couple'a weeks. Maybe you're right. But if I'm gonna do it, that means you should get back into it with me, yeah? Might feel a little less like a foolish old man if I have company.

[he huffs an amused sound, then smiles fully at the mention of the MOMA]

God, Caroline had annual passes to that place. It was incredible. If there's an art museum here, we could go. I'm no expert, but I can at least share what I know. We could trade, heh...

[certaininequities]

You're not the one who lost control.

[he can't help it, this is where his mind is stuck lately. instead of sitting, Norman reaches out to gently touch that broken horn, then pulls her into a hug, his voice breaking]

Awh, Tawna-!

[certaininequities]

No -

[his voice breaks, grieving right along with Peter. he'd liked May, himself, genuinely felt so grateful to her. she'd changed him, even before she'd talked Peter into curing them all]

- no, it's not, and I wish I knew what to say about that.

[the sounds of the city go on around them, unabated, even though there's not another actual person in sight. it's eerie, and yet somehow fitting. alone in their grief, but surrounded by life.]

[summonthesuit]

[Oops, he sure did the thing again where he let too much slip, huh.]

Sure, I can tell you about that. Doesn't actually have much to do with the multiple personalities thing, though. You'd think it would, right? That's what I assumed at first, anyway. Turns out, an Egyptian god doesn't cause that sort of thing, he just takes advantage of it when it suits him, that wily old git.

But the whole story is long. Should probably save it for when we meet. Do you have a preference for a day or time?

[swashgrappling]

[The hug surprises her, just for a second before she returns it. The former bandicoot pats at his back gently.]

Hey, hey, I'm alright.

Been through worse scraps, trust me.

[heyunderoos]

[Peter if anything is happy to encourage Norman. He's not sure how long they will be here, so, using their time for new stuff seems like a good idea.]

I was mostly like doing ballet before I had to stop. I dunno if that'd even translate to real dancing. Much less translate with... all this. [He gestures at his very rat body for emphasis. He stretches his legs, wincing a little at the one he landed on wrong on patrol. He rubs at it absently.] Is Lanzhu teaching you like the waltz or something?

I'd like that a lot. I think it'd be cool to hear what you know, I mean.

[heyunderoos]

I just... I want her back.

[Peter's breath shakes as he just holds onto Norman. His hold whilst desperate is still careful out of old instincts.

He sucks in a breath, trying to swallow back tears. It isn't working. He goes quiet after his words, just soaking in the silence as he holds onto Norman. The two standing in silence together in the low sounds of Queens.]

[certaininequities]

[he lets Peter take as much of that silence as he needs. reaching up to rub his back a little. being ... the sort of person he was invited here to be, in an oblique sort of sense. a father figure. he knows he has to earn the right, that Peter has to give him that title himself. but he's trying so desperately to make up for all the ways that the Goblin hurt the poor boy. he knows he will never fully separate himself from the embodiment of every dark thought in his mind and soul ... that he has to work past that, to work hard.

but this is part of the work, isn't it? walking the talk. Being Better. he hopes Peter will understand and allow that, even if it's only in small moments like this. his voice shakes as he responds]

So do I. ... I know it's not worth much, but ... she'd be so proud of you, Peter. Of how hard you're trying. That you're still doing your best despite everything.

[he swallows hard]

I know I am.

[certaininequities]

Ballet? That's ... [he stuffs down his knee-jerk reaction and reframes it quickly] ... a lot of coordination and control. No wonder you were so good on those damn webs. ... But yeah, it's a waltz. Little more complicated than the box step I taught Harry, for sure... heh...

[he trails off: for some reason it feels odd, almost wrong to discuss his son around this Peter. he's not sure why]

Then we'll do it. One of these weeknights when it's bound to be less crowded.

[certaininequities]

It's usually pretty quiet here in the late afternoon during the week. We should meet somewhere else first, and then I can lead you there. Doesn't matter where, to me. The Arcade makes that sort of thing pretty easy.