meowminx | Endgame

Entry tags:

Endgame

WHO: Selina Kyle, Norman Osborn, and a surprise guest star!
WHERE: Dark Avengers tower
WHEN: Tuesday, Jan 5th
SUMMARY: Selina has one last plan for getting even with Norman Osborn. Unfortunately for her, Norman Osborn isn't a total idiot.
WARNINGS: Blood and violence and a very long fall
FORMAT: Para

This was it. Once she'd finished this last job, she was done with Osborn. And not a moment too soon. She was getting sick of this whole idiotic facade.

Osborn was off with another dinner with Sarah. As much as Selina appreciated the Skrull's willingness to help, she didn't like putting her in this situation. Some of the guilt for getting Teddy hurt still twinged in her gut. Still, at least she was handling the most dangerous part herself.

Dressed in a maintenance staff uniform, wearing a long blond wig and thick glasses, Selina made her way through the tower, avoiding cameras and residents with an unconscious ease. The security was tighter around the lab, but nothing that she couldn't handle.

It wasn't hard for Selina to find the armor. Iron Patriot. The pretentiousness of it was sickening, really. Plenty of things about Norman Osborn were. But the armor itself? She had to admit it was impressive. Maybe it could do with a new paint job, but it was quite the piece of hardware.

She approached carefully, cautious of any security measures. There didn't seem to be any. She stopped a few feet away, reaching out to trace the smooth metal lines with her gloved fingertips.

It had been a while since Selina stole something this interesting.

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The attack on his warehouse and the bomb on his desk had put Norman on guard. Not that he wasn't, usually, but this -- there was an intent here, an active intent to rebel against or unsettle him. It wouldn't work, and he wouldn't allow anyone -- whoever it was -- to believe it had.

So as loathe as he was to stand up the patient Ms. Kyle (who was taking, in Norman's opinion, her sweet time in acting on whatever plans she must have been hatching), there was other business he had to take care of first. He'd left the building, and then doubled-back. He couldn't be sure where they would strike next, but he knew what he would be protecting. Just because they had struck a blow at one of his aliases didn't mean he wouldn't protect the other.

He dressed himself in its pieces, and waited. And they had come. No one that he recognized, but that wasn't important. They were here. His teeth bared in anger and satisfaction.

It wasn't the first time Selina had filched an armored suit, and she knew the key was documentation, particularly if she could find security codes. She knew Norman hadn't built the thing; he had to have some kind of notes or paperwork somewhere.

Of course, if she couldn't find a way to control it, destroying it would work too.

She gave the metal suit one last light rap of her knuckles before turning her back, switching her focus to investigating the rest of the work area.

When the intruder turned their back on him, Norman watched for another moment -- just a moment -- before the eyes of his helmet flicked into life. The uni-beam was still under repair, so for the moment there was only the two small alleys of light radiating from the armor.

That they even had the gall to touch his armor. The gall. The mere idea anyone would even try after all the trouble he had just put up with sent Norman into a blinding, dizzying rage. The week or so (less, really) he had spent putting this suit together symbolized every single damn thing he had waited and worked and climbed and bleed for.

It was borderline offensive.

He stood, an energy beam charging in his palm.

The sound of shifting metal caught Selina's attention. She turned, and the sight of the armor come to life made her drop the pages she'd just picked up, take a leap back to put a bit more space between them.

Shit. She hated fighting people in armored suits. It never went well for her, except for the few instances she was equally armed. And right now, she didn't even have her whip and costume on hand.

He fired a shot at her, bright light shooting from the palms of the gauntlet and illuminating the room in blue like a clap of lightning during a storm. That brief flash did nothing to reveal the identity of the thief, but Norman got up, advancing forward more as he charged another one in his other hand.

"I knew it. I knew you would be back." He hissed, voice mechanized by the suit. "Did you really think I would let you get away with playing with my toys?"

As he leveled his arm he became increasingly sure his accident had been the fault of this person, too. They had probably tampered with his suit, given it a virus or something of the sort. Norman didn't make mistakes, he never made fatal mistakes, and there was no question the faulty (or weak) circuitry couldn't have been his fault. No, it was certainly an attempt against him. Another one.

Selina barely evaded the blast, felt the heat of it through her stolen uniform. She didn't reply to the voice (Norman, had to be Norman) -- no point in giving away her identity.

So he'd stood her up and now he was going to try and kill her. Fantastic.

She'd seen Iron Man in action when she was the part of the team facing Godzilla. And even if this suit was a cheap imitation, it was more than she could handle on her own. Grabbing a random tool off the workbench, she hurled it at Iron Patriot's head. Not hoping to damage the suit, but rather as a distraction.

There was no more need for words, so he continued forward after her, armored eyes aglow and fixed on her location. The helmet had been one of the only parts of the armor that had remained almost completely undamaged in the fight with Tony; the paint had chipped and the metal had warped, from the crash, but it hadn't taken long to repair. The circuitry itself was still intact.

So the wrench clanking at him barely did anything. He batted it away, and though it made him stop for a moment or two, it wasn't long before he was on her again, arms grabbing for the intruder -- hoping for an arm, maybe a leg, or a neck to twist or bend or snap. He was fast in the armor, though the lab was not conducive for his speed. There were things that could be damaged or knocked over, crashed into.

She felt a metal hand close around her arm and tighten, agony splintering out from the contact point. Hissing against the pain, she twisted as best she could without the damn suit ripping her arm off, planting a kick in the center of Iron Patriot's chest.

Normally, an attack like that would be a joke. But Selina had gotten better at using her newer power in a fight. Being tough had always come easier to her than letting go, after all. So she'd shifted to higher density before the kick landed, meaning the impact had the force of something much harder than mere human flesh.

Edited 2009-12-31 04:13 (UTC)

There had been satisfaction when he felt that arm give way in his hand, but what Norman hadn't been expecting was that kick to the chest. Not one like that. It was heavy and unanticipated, and sent him reeling backwards.

What the hell?

He didn't stay down long, leaping back up and after the thief, wondering if he'd misjudged them and they actually had super strength. It hadn't felt like it, but he would be careful. He aimed a punch, trying to aim for the face -- it seemed like a safe bet.

She'd been in motion since the bastard let go of her arm, but her was too fast for her to evade the blow completely. And even a glancing blow from that thing hurt like hell. It just didn't take her head off completely.

Selina went down, somehow managing to avoid landing on her bad arm (probably broken, from the feel of it) blood from a cut in her hairline dripping out from under her wig.

Get up get up get up get up... echoed through her head and her vision danced in and out.

But she knew she didn't have time for that. She went for a leg sweep instead, managing to pull just enough concentration to phase it. Wouldn't knock him down, of course, but should fry the electronics in the suit's legs. Maybe buy her a little time.

When he first noticed the leg sweep, Norman could have laughed -- something like that wasn't going to knock him off balance now that he knew to expect it. But when the legs phased through his legs he could feel the circuits shorting out, the rockets dying.

Damn!

Buy her time it did, because Norman had to stop to take off his armor at the legs -- "Damn!" -- after a moment of trying and failing to restart the circuits. He shed the armored pants, running towards her still in armor from the waist up, dressed otherwise in the pressed pants from his suit.

Selina had made it out of the lab at that point, a ways down the hallway. But phasing with the injuries like that had cost her, and she didn't have much left. She wasn't sure she could do it again.

But long before she'd ever had powers to fall back on, Selina had been good at getting out of scrapes like this, even when hurt. If she could just get off this level, she'd have a chance.

Too bad she wasn't moving nearly as fast as normal.

Norman chased her out into the hallway, charging another repulsor beam in his gauntlet. She'd gotten distance one him, but he made that up in short time. Blood was pounding in his head and ears and chest, and he was barely even aware of the sounds that existed apart from him -- the world to him right now was the thumping of his heart and the thief before him trying to escape. He may have been shouting after her, he may not have been.

He shot at the thief's feet first, hoping to trip them up. He'd rather knock them down and unmask them then outright kill them, just yet.

The beam didn't hit her directly, but the buckling floor did make her falter, unsteady on her feet as she already was. She hit the thick glass of the window, gloved fingers just barely finding purchase on the frame.

Somehow, she managed to stay upright, but the room tilted sickly and she kept one hand on the window for balance, slowing her progress even more.

The shot of his beam made the glass shudder dangerously, though any signs of warping, if there, weren't apparent. It didn't hit, really, but the result was effective enough for Norman to be able to swoop in. He launched himself towards her, large armored hands moving to slam her against the glass. He hadn't decided what to do yet -- wring their neck? perhaps -- but when he moved into position, the glass cracking in spidery splinters, her face came into clear view of him.

One hand remained on her neck, pushing her against the fracturing glass, though the other found itself pulling up the faceplate of his helmet, as if he needed a better look and the armor was tricking him. No. His eyes narrowed, glinting almost green in the light.

The impact knocked the world even more crooked for a moment, and even the single armored hand on her throat made it difficult to draw a breath. This was bad. Really really bad.

But the look on his face...

Selina bared her teeth in a sneer and aimed a punch for that face with her good arm. Nothing fancy, but as much weight behind it as she could manage in her state.

Her fist slammed into his mouth with painful impact -- he felt his lip split and blood paint her knuckles and his chin. He was almost surprised -- almost impressed. Almost. Her tenacity was endearing.

Baring his teeth, lower row stained pink, and removed his hand from her throat to grab her bad arm again, wanting to inflict all the pain he could. He could care less if he shattered the bone or made it useless. He drew her away from the window, slamming her back against it, bad arm first.

Edited 2010-01-02 09:03 (UTC)

She couldn't help but scream at that, doubling over in pain as much as his grip on her broken arm would allow. She swore she could feel the bones grinding together. Fucking bastard...

Oh, look at that. He'd taken off some of his armor.

When things got bad, Selina had no qualms about fighting dirty. Hell, sometimes she did it for fun. It's wasn't always about style or skill or grace. Sometimes it was just about causing some damn pain.

Knee, meet groin.

Edited 2010-01-02 10:51 (UTC)

How ironic it was that Norman would have agreed with her sentiment entirely -- that was what he was doing, after all. Causing some pain. As much of it as he could. It was past the point of practicality, he just wanted to hear her scream. It was too bad they were on opposite sides, really. They could have worked something out. Could have, though, not would have. Norman's alliances came in second to himself, every time. If he suffered, everyone had to suffer.

The impact of Selina's knee drained the color from his face. His healing factor was already working towards sewing up his lip and gums, but it was useless in regards to the actual pain. Though he couldn't curb the yell of pain to less than a bark, it was with momentous effort he kept his knees from buckling. He made up for this indignity by slamming his free hand on the window, right on the weaving fault-lines. He could give a damn what happened to her from here on out.

Selina barely had time to register the sound of breaking glass, the feeling of shards cutting into her back before she was in motion, the ground rushing towards her.

She only had a moment to focus, to think. And what she thought was hard. She didn't know if she had enough left, if it would even work. But not a lot of options when plummeting to your death.

The impact shattered the sidewalk far more spectacularly than a human body should have. She dimly registered that, the fact that she'd heard it but not really felt it beyond the sudden stop. She could see the night sky overhead, so she probably wasn't dead. That was good, right?

He took a moment to breath, hissing in sharply as the pain ebbed away in pieces. Then Norman leaned out from the window briefly to examine the damage -- and make sure no fliers had come around to catch her. The last thing Norman needed was any more drama, and witnesses on top of it.

The damage on the sidewalk would probably have to be taken care of, it was suspicious. But not immediately. Norman had other things he had to take care of first. He couldn't tell if she was dead or not from this height, and because of that he needed to get the first word on the events that had transpired.

Norman's head was still throbbing, blood and adrenaline hammering their presence against his temples. The rarity of these moments made them almost more precious -- Norman could feel the Goblin's presence most strongly there, pulling him and urging him back towards it. It was dangerous in how satisfying it was. She had tried to steal from him -- tried or maybe even succeeded in sabotaging him, and he had broken her like an egg. Norman hadn't been planning on ending their 'partnership' quite this soon, all told, but things didn't always pan out to the letter.

He whipped out his communicator, making sure he was appropriately calm enough to detail his spin of events, before he got Hand on the line to replace the window.

Satellites watched everything. There didn't need to even be dedicated satellites for watching for Tony to keep his presence in them, and when sensors tipped off that there was a lot of damage happening over near Oscorp, his eyes were on it in an instant. He did not want another altercation like the last time, but he wasn't going to just let the other man keep at this game either.

Red flashed into his eyes, his mind, his awareness.

He missed where she came from, but the trajectory wasn't hard to calculate. From the building, shattered glass, and he was already changing his own flightpath, zeroing in on the prone body lying on the sidewalk.

Selina. It was so obviously her. Despite the blonde wig, he knew that face well enough, and his thrusters kicked into high gear, sonic booms echoing behind him as he went faster and faster, and then when he slowed down, they echoed back at him.

Swooping down, he kneeled next to Selina, not quite ready to touch her. He didn't want to hurt her if it would make her injuries worse, but he needed to get her out of here, get her someplace safe. The sidewalk in front of Oscorp was not safe. He started taking inventory of her injuries, monitoring her heartbeat and breathing. How did she survive the fall?

Why had he even come? He was trying to come up with every reason imaginable, but he had known it was a bad idea from the get-go. He had told her as much, but now she was paying the price of dating Norman Osborn. Hadn't he told her? If he were a petty man he would leave her, but he couldn't. Not like this.

"Selina? Oh come on, let me know you're alive, at least!"

It took her a moment to register the voice, another recognize it. And the moment after that was when she realized she'd been holding her breath since before the impact. In and out, the exhale turning into a cough.

"Yeah," she muttered, pushing herself into a sitting position with her good arm. Her limbs felt far too light, rubbery even. The pain of her broken arm was faint and distant now. Part of her registered that that probably meant shock, which wasn't good. But it didn't seem that important.

Another cough. "Need to..." The thought drifted off and away as she tried to pull herself to her feet. Too much too fast; the world flickered and faded as she pitched forward, unconscious.

He reached out to catch her, the faceplate of the helmet popping up on a quick mental command to look at her with actual eyes. Despite the fact that the view was just the same as through the satellites, and through his helmet that it was through his own, it was still different. Perhaps it was just the fact that he wanted it to be, but he refused to acknowledge it. He constantly warred with the side of him that thought it would just be easier to succumb and become wholly the machine.

No, he wouldn't let that happen.

He lifted a hand, and opened one eye, examining it, mentally scanning, before he let it flutter back closed.

She needed medical attention. He knew she wouldn't want to go to the Hospital. They often asked too many questions, but when he reached around to try and pick her up, the glass was brought to his attention.

Dammit. He couldn't pull them out without the proper care. He picked her up gingerly, and held her in his arms, trying to avoid the shards of glass. Avengers Mansion. Much better than his damn penthouse, despite the fact that she was working for the enemy. He had a feeling that tenure wouldn't last.

When Norman returned from his office -- out of his armor and in a nice clean suit, network post made -- he strolled by the broken window in order to head back to the lab, cleaning up the scene in there. He put his armor away carefully, placing everything exactly as it had been. Security footage had, luckily, been disabled in this area beforehand.

After he had taken care of the 'scene of the crime', he wandered by the window once more to clean up any glass that had fallen to the inside. His eyes flicked towards outside the window again, and then he frowned, darkly. The crater where Selina had landed remained on the sidewalk like the hole in the window, empty like the window pane.

Now, where the hell had she gone?

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Endgame

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