maskormenacelogs

Entry tags:

[OPEN]

WHO: Normie Osborn and You!
WHERE: All over; locations specified in starters
WHEN: March
WHAT: Normie's trying to get used to his new life
WARNINGS: None, will edit as needed

01. Nonah - Around Residence 004

[He didn't set out to build a goblin glider.

At least, not at first. It was originally an attempt to figure out how this world's hovering technology worked. However, when he found out that this was a guarded industry secret, he gave it up for the time being and started to learn about the steam engines certain cars used instead. The problem was, he could only learn so much by reading about them. He was the type who learned through reverse engineering and trial and error.

And that's where the glider came in.

He needed something to put a steam engine in, and between his brief (better left forgotten) career as the Green Goblin and Phil's, he'd built or modified enough goblin gliders that even without the blueprints, the design was familiar enough that he was able to reproduce it from memory. Sure, it might not have been an exact replica of the ones back home, but everything worked properly, and that's all that mattered. Getting the steam engine to work in the glider proved a challenge, but after a few sleepless nights, Normie finally got the hydraulics to stop leaking and frying the circuit board, and the glider was ready to take to the skies.

Which is exactly what he was doing on this night, as well as the past few nights. The glider itself isn't exactly something he'd show off to people (or even use beyond testing), but he sees no reason in making the outer shell look polished if the device didn't work. Besides looking like a typical glider's ugly cousin, it also doesn't have the signature horned mask head in the front. Normie's aware of how bad this might look, and had tried to make the glider look less like he's about to go terrorize a Parker on a bridge somewhere (but really, it just looks like a goblin glider without a mast, so he failed).

Keeping himself attached to the glider by specially designed magnets on his shoes, Normie just pilots the machine around the perimeter of his backyard at first, maneuvering it in small circles a few inches off the ground to make sure everything's still working before bringing the glider straight up a few feet, his body perpendicular to the ground below before he evens himself out. Nervous he might still be visible despite the darkness, he goes a little higher before attempting to push the glider's limits, speeding across his neighborhood in a giant circle. When he's satisfied the glider can handle it, he lands back in his backyard, but not before doing a loop-de-loop in the air for good measure.

He's taken precautions to not be seen during his testing: doing it at night, wearing all black, designing the glider to be as quiet as possible, but even with all of that, he's still probably not as stealthy as he'd hoped.]

02. Maurtia Falls - The streets

[Ever since Clark Kent had mentioned the thrift shops in Maurtia Falls to him, Normie found himself venturing out there first whenever he's on the hunt for some old, busted electronics. He has found they typically had a good selection, were inexpensive, and that any sort of damage the machines might have were cosmetic. Sure, he can buy the parts he needed, but this way he not only saves money, he's able to learn more about this world's technology by disassembling them (there are obviously exceptions, parts Normie refuses to compromise on by salvaging it from other units, but whatever he can salvage he does).

In this particular outing, Normie is done for the day, and is somehow precariously balancing a stereo, a microwave, and a computer tower in his arms, to say nothing of the two cloth shopping bags containing who knows what hanging from one arm. Though he doesn't appear to be too worried about dropping anything, he also can't see very well in front of him, doing his best by craning his neck around the side of the tower of junk and attempting to maneuver around anyone else on the street.

Careful, or he might bump into you.]

03. Heropa - A cafe

[One of the perks of his job as a Family Genealogy Researcher is that he's not stuck in an office all day, as often the research takes him out to various libraries and government offices. Rather than return to his office when he's done, he instead finds the nearest cafe, parks at an empty table, pulls out his laptop and any sort of notes he'd written down, and gets to work filling out various client's genealogy charts (after he pays for a coffee and a pastry, of course. Both of which he's careful to keep away from both his laptop and his papers).

He always tries to do this after the lunch rush, though he's not always successful. He might be hogging one of the cafe's larger tables, or perhaps he's asking to use the plug near your foot for his laptop cord, or maybe he's actually managed to knock his coffee all over his table, pulling his laptop away to safety in time, but not his notes.]

04. All over - The library

[Another place Normie finds himself visiting with frequency are the local libraries. If he's not looking through public records, he's at the microform machine looking at old newspapers. He's at the one in Nonah so often people have actually confused him for a librarian (even though he isn't, if he can help, he does). Often, when he finishes gathering the information he needs, he can be found wandering the shelves for a bit before leaving, taking a particular interest in the Science Fiction and Fantasy, Graphic Novel, Mystery, and Nonfiction sections, as well as the DVDs.

And because Normie apparently can't get enough of the library (no, really, he could, he just thought it would be a nice gesture), he's teaching a Genealogy workshop in each of the major libraries in the Porter cities. The blurb on the libraries bulletin boards and inside their newsletters reads:

Researching your family tree may appear daunting, but thanks to the Internet it has never been easier. Learn how to utilize search engines and other free resources to uncover your ancestry.
If you catch him teaching one of these workshops, you'll see him explaining each of the resources in what he hopes is an engaging manner, though some of his explanations might be a little too technical in the earlier classes, and he has to stop to clarify several times. He'll also stay as late as needed, answering any questions any stragglers might have.]

[OOC: Or feel free to make your own starter!]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

It's... hard to describe.

[The mask almost made it feel like none of what he was doing is real. That he wasn't actually going to harm anyone.

Or more accurately, that he wasn't the one doing it. That he wasn't capable of it.]

I believe you're hiding when you claim that, Norman.

Hard doesn't mean impossible. It's just that your mind needs time to order the thoughts and give them proper words.

[His tone is calm and level. His head's tilting back a little further, his tongue running over his lower lip in thought before he holds himself. When he wore his mask, oh, he was always going to harm someone.]

[Normie's quiet for a moment, biting the inside of his lip. He doesn't like this, he doesn't like it at all.]

I never really wanted to be the Green Goblin, Dr. Crane. I did it because I believed I had to. Putting on the mask was the way to make it all easier. To make it all come out.

Call me a coward if you want to, but if the day ever comes where it can come out without it... I think that would make me a lost cause. That I really am sick like my father and grandfather before me. And that's why I won't do it.

[Crane's also quiet, but his silence lasts longer, and he's not chewing the inside of his lip. He's watching Norman closely. His eyes are cold and remorseless - and that comment about being sick just banishes any remaining warmth.]

Really? [His tone was disarmingly affable, warm, so much unlike his eyes. He even airily waved a hand.] What if you had to choose death or the cowl? With no third option.

[Norman's greatest fear versus one of the greatest fears of the collective human unconscious. What would it be? How much would he sweat?]

It might not be you're a coward much as you're unwilling to take responsibility for making your choices. Words don't move fingers, Norman. Nobody strapped you down or pointed a gun to your head. You chose to put the cowl on.

[Normie's all too familiar with that look. It was similar to his grandfather's, whenever he strayed too far from "his birthright." He looks away.

At least his voice manages to come out sounding somewhat confident:]

I'd-- [He suddenly stops, remembering how desperate he had been that last time he
put on the Green Goblin mask, and still he was unable to kill himself. The mask won.

He doesn't sound so confident anymore.]

I don't know.

[He slumps farther in his seat.]

...I think the mask.

[The more Norman's voice halts and starts, the closer Crane looms in his seat. His presence fills the room. Perhaps because there is nothing personal to focus on, meaning he draws more attention; and by no means is he a well-built man.

He catches what Norman tries to hide. Fool.]

The mask?

[By contrast, his voice is clear and sharp. Loud in the stillness. He tilts his head slightly left, and almost gives an intrigued smile.]

Did I hear you right?

The last time I put the costume on... I didn't want to. I wanted to die, but I couldn't actually bring myself to committing suicide.

[A brief pause.]

So I put the costume on and put the superhero in a position where I thought for sure I'd end up dead.

[Normie laughs, but it's hollow.]

Can't do that right either.

I see.

Well. I suppose the hero didn't believe you worthy of killing.

[He says it so quietly, so remotely, that it's strange to hear. That sort of soft voice that comes from everywhere yet nowhere, and just slips into your mind.]

Perhaps he or she believed you were running from taking responsibility for your actions. Putting them into the position where you make them take on the responsibility to kill you is quite selfish, Norman.

[No... that couldn't be right. May was too good of a person.]

I felt I had no choice. The hero and I... our histories are very tightly intertwined. I truly believed the only way to end the bad blood between our families... bad blood my family was solely responsible for in the first place, was if one of us were dead.

I didn't want it to be them.

[Crane tilts his head, slightly and slowly.

He speaks softly and in an encouraging tone. It wasn't clear he was fascinated to see how far Norman would run away from his fear to exist as the Green Goblin.]

Yes. It's hard, isn't it?

[He glances at his hands, then his gaze turns back on Norman as though he's behind a pane of glass.]

I'm sorry to ask such a personal question; but have you actually made plans or carried out attempts to kill yourself? By yourself, I mean.

Edited 2015-04-21 16:11 (UTC)

...I'd thought about it. Before deciding to try the other way.

I couldn't go through with it.

[Crane crosses his leg and his crossed hands move, between his leg and the side of the chair. He speaks curiously and seems fascinated by Norman's reasons. His life's story so far.]

Why do you think that is?

[Begins to fiddle with his wedding ring again, staring at the spinning sliver of gold on his finger rather than at Crane.]

I don't know. At the time I thought it was because it would go against fate. One of us had to kill the other. I believed it was the way of our families.

[Crane begins to fiddle with the ring finger of his left hand; where there's no wedding band or any other jewellery. It's a deliberate gesture to bring Norman's attention to his behavior. He's even staring at it in a similar manner.]

Well. Your inheritance is no more poignant than that of any other family. We are all shaped by familial influence. But we are the ones who choose what to cherish and what to disavow.

[A pause.]

You speak like a man who isn't in love with his fate, Norman, no matter where it may lead. You seem on the beginning of forming your own creed, and that's a difficult process.

It's not that simple. You don't understand the amount of pressure that was put on me to carry the family legacy, and how hopeless the whole thing made me feel.

[Sees Crane mimicking him and drops his hands to his sides.]

I was just starting to feel strong, that I'd found myself... who I really was supposed to be... and then I was brought here.

[Crane tilts his head back and his demeanor cools like a hot coal dropped in a bucket of water. He doesn't seem impressed.

You're right, Norman. What would he know of the pressures of family? Of being made to feel hopeless and worthless? Like he didn't even belong.

Then again, perhaps that made it easier to break away.

He drops his hands to his sides.]

I suppose fate granted you a reprieve, then?

[There's a very subtle allegation of cowardice, there. Pathetic.]

[Normie leans forward, something akin to anger briefly flashing in his eyes as his shirt appears to ripple, as though moved by a slight gust of wind.

When he speaks, his voice is firm for the first time since entering the office.]

That isn't what I meant. I wasn't aware one's desire not to slip back into destructive habits was considered a reprieve.

I'd much rather be moving forward than stumbling back. Why else did you think I came here?

The same reason that anyone else comes here, naturally. Your words may be different, but your motives are the same.

[He meets that anger with calm professionalism. He plays emotional poker with Batman. Who the hell are you?]

Edited 2015-05-12 06:45 (UTC)

Enlighten me, doctor.

[He's a goddamn Osborn, that's who. And he doesn't tolerate your disrespect.]

You're scared, just like everyone who visits me. The difference is motive. It's one thing for a person to fear embarrassment, and another for a man like you who lives with the cold hand of darkness on his shoulder. You are terrified of the inevitability of your family's curse, and how it shall hurt those you love. You seem frightened of going backwards.

[Crane has no fear of your name, Normie. Nor your family. You'll take his bitter medicine one way or another.]

Oh, so you have been listening. I had begun to wonder.

[He doesn't expect you to fear him, Crane, but you better damn well respect him. He doesn't open up to anyone.]

I'm not some little boy afraid of the boogeyman, and I don't believe in fairy tale curses. What I do believe in is that both my father and grandfather were undiagnosed schizophrenics. If it's true, then I am at a higher risk of developing the disorder myself. And that, dear doctor, is the curse I fear. So I would greatly appreciate if you were to drop the condescension.

[Crane has a beautifully simple, but brutal, view of respect; either he's in awe of an individual, or they're the shit under his shoe.

He's calmly watching Normie in the way that hides that contemptuous smirk he's so fond of.]

It is dangerous to self-diagnose yourself or others, Norman. Surely you are aware of that? I do not believe you are a psychiatrist, so how are you qualified to say that?

I'm not, nor do I claim to be. It's also not something I googled then called a day. My doctor back home and I would discuss it before I was... abruptly brought here.

My father sincerely believed a very specific person was actively trying to ruin his life, thought his friends were out to get him, and according to several accounts hallucinated my dead grandfather. Those aren't signs of a well man.

No, they're not.

[There's no fake sympathy and no pity. Crane won't give such false misunderstanding. He clasps his hands and rests them over his knee.]

Delusion and paranoia are connected to schizophrenia. However, they are not exclusive. Paranoid schizophrenia, for instance, might well be diagnosed by a different psychiatrist as borderline personality disorder. Both can feature episodes of paranoia. Differences come into it with frequency, duration and personal history. Of course, a diagnosis is primarily an umbrella to direct treatment. [He looks at his notes.] How was your childhood, Norman?

[Normie finally seems to relax in his seat once again. He isn't seeking sympathy or pity, he just wants to be taken seriously.

He nods.]

Before he died, I know my father sought treatment for... something, but his therapist turned out to be less than reputable, so even if I did get my hands on his notes, I wouldn't trust them.

Angry. Rather than focusing on what I had, I instead chose to focus on what I lost... or rather what I believe was stolen from me. I nursed that anger for years until I finally donned the Green Goblin costume.

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