8/22/2006 Central Park South ------------------------------------------------------------------ Central Park is no longer what it was. The southern region is less devastated than the north, but fire still claimed the vast majority of its vegetation. Most of the debris has been cleaned up, although some piles remain. There are no shrubs; only the oldest trees survived. No flowerbeds. What there is is freshly rolled-out grass, to cover the charred earth. A few trees, small fast-growing saplings that have yet to be put in the ground, dot the park as landscapers plan out its restoration. Blackened, soot-frosted walkways, and lights that still stand and work but have been marked by fire. ------------------------------------------------------------------ Although the park is in disrepair, it is still a place some people choose to support with their presence. May Parker is just one of those people and wondering her way along the path that hasn't been blocked off by yellow tape and wooden horses. She's got her walking shoes on and is keeping a pace that exercises her body. Her walking engagement with Doctor Octavius was interrupted by recent events, but she is the kind of woman who moves on from disappointment rather easily. And perhaps she won't be disappointed after all. Dr. Octavius has his own reasons for coming to the battered park, and while one of them may have to do with the old lady who has, despite everything, never been anything but kind to him, he has other purposes in mind as well. He's walking away from a more devastated section of Central Park, wrapped up well in the ankle-length brown coat and broad-brimmed fedora. Dull yellow boots step purposefully from blackened earth to fire-damaged walkway, and a yellow-gloved hand secrets a vial of something inside one coat pocket. After striding as far as the caution tape will allow her, May stops for a moment to check her pulse. It's at a good rate, so she decides to turn and power-walk the rest of the way back. But just as she turns, she spots that all too familiar coat and stops to observe the man for a moment, just to make sure her eyes aren't deceiving her. "Otto! Over here," she calls when she's certain it's him. She smiles and waves to let him know where she is. Otto looks up upon hearing his name, and a smile stretches across his broad face as he alters his path to intersect with hers. "Mrs. Parker," he says, greeting her warmly once he's within conversational distance. "A delightful surprise, as always." May smirks as she approaches him. "Oh come now, Otto, do we have to always be so formal? Call me May." She marches in place as she speaks to him. "You'll have to forgive me for being so mobile right now. Following the doctor's orders about my health. Oh, and I wanted to apologize for not trying to meet for our outing last week. Once the city went under a state of emergency, I thought it might be best to just stay as close to home as possible." Otto cocks his head slightly, then chuckles. "Quite right. There are far too many miscreants about seeking to take advantage of the chaos. I wouldn't /forgive/ myself if you'd come to harm on /my/ behalf." May chuckles at his manners. "Oh it wouldn't be you, it'd be me entirely. I'd be silly to be out in something that chaotic." She motions for the path left open. "Well it's not a simple stroll but would you like to join me for my power walk? I warn you, you'll have to move a bit faster than you were just now to keep up with this old woman." Otto utters a brief, throaty 'heh'. "A small sacrifice to pay for your company, May." There's no hesitation in the use of her Christian name; he's used it plenty of times before, after all. And, of course, this way he can make sure that no one accosts her. Even with the greater numbers of uniformed authority roaming the area, Central Park is not without its dangers. May's smile brightens as he accepts her invitation, then she starts without delay, moving for the path and walking with a brisk stride. Few people are around to enjoy what's left of the park's scenery, meaning they practically have the sidewalk to themselves. That is, except for the occasional dog-walker, such as a woman in a sweatsuit who comes wandering in their direction, chattering away on the phone, pulling along a shivering Chihuahua who looks like it doesn't want to be out here as much as she does. The woman hardly pays any attention to the odd couple she wanders towards, though May Parker eyes her for a moment before leaning close to Otto to mutter, "You know, I'd try to warn her that the rest of the path is blocked, but I doubt she'd hold her phonecall for any sensible advice." Then she chuckles. Otto seems to have little trouble keeping up, the hem of his long coat flapping about his ankles as he makes long strides at her side. Thick middle and unhealthful habits aside, Octavius is not entirely unathletic -- or at least he has enough ability to keep pace with a power-walking old woman even /without/ the use of his extra limbs. The dogwalker gets a brief, narrow look before he relaxes his face into another amused expression at his companion's remark. "Let her find out for herself. A lesson's best learned when it's learned the hard way." He smirks. May nods and smiles, moving aside as the woman practically walks through her, gums flapping at fast pace. The Chihuahua looks back at them but other than a little whine and natural nervous twitch, does nothing but keep being dragged by its owner. "I feel sorry for that poor dog," May comments, keeping an even stride. "You know, I could never keep a Chihuahua. They always look as though they're falling apart; I'd be afraid to handle it. And I think some of these trendy young people who keep buying them shouldn't be handling them, either." Otto Octavius shakes his head slightly, turning his head slightly to give the animal another glance. "Pathetic little creatures, in my opinion," he says as he turns his attention back to her. "Twisted by breeding to be... what? Toys. Terriers, even /poodles/, were bred for some /function/, but chihuahuas?" He snorts. A few yards away, the Chihuahua stops in its tracks. Its own keeps walking until her attempt to tug on its leash is met with unnatural resistence that sends her sprawling to the pavement. "What the hell," she declares aloud. Without looking back, May Parker covers her mouth with a hand and chuckles as she hears the exclamation. "I think she's learned," she comments as she starts around the bend. The Chihuahua stands still, watching the could walk, then it sinks into the darkened ground, pulling the woman with it by the leash. She barely gets off a gasp before she disappears completely, leaving her cellphone laying where she once stood. Otto, however, stops, glancing back just one more time -- and in time to see this display of of supernatural power. His mouth tightens into a frown, brow furrowing over the specialized goggles. "So soon?" he mutters. A gloved hand vanishes into his coat pocket as he turns back, jogging a few steps to catch back up with the person he thinks is one of his oldest, dearest friends. "May," he begins, intending to warn her. Blast Spider-Man anyway; he /knew/ the webcrawler wouldn't be of any assistance. "Don't tell me I'm moving too fast for you," May calls over her shoulder, smiling back at him. The searing corpse of the phone talking woman pushes up through the sidewalk without disturbing it, right in the path of May Parker. She looks forward too late to see it and falls right over it, flounders, then gasps deeply as she sees what she is crawling over. "Dear God in heaven," she declares as she tries to pick herself up. A deep-throated growl eminates from every nearby shadow, along with an echoed statement in an unearthly voice: "Ye best beware that which burns in the shadows...." Spoken in ancient Latin, what was spoken doesn't have to be understood to turn May Parker a few shades of white. "What... what is going on??" "Something I'd hoped you'd avoid," Octavius replies. His voice has dropped into a low, grating growl. The metal arms whip out from their hiding place under his coat; one snakes itself around the old woman, taking her in a firm but uncrushing grip, while the other three extend and go into motion, lifting the doctor and his passenger and starting to carry them away from the charred corpse. The gloved hand emerges from his coat pocket, fingers curled around a spheroid metal object. May cries out in surprise as she is suddenly lifted, which would be expected from anyone who suddenly found themselves in Otto's grip without warning. But that lift was just in time to save her from erupting flames that rise from the ground where she had fallen, reducing the corpse to ashes and bringing a massive, dripping hellhound to stands in its place and bring a paw down to crush the remaining skull. The flames that make up its eyes focus immediately on the fleeting doctor and the animal takes off after him at a rapid pace, leaving footsteps in its wake that singe the sidewalk and spread flames to the nearby grass remnants. May looks around her, trying to adjust herself to her holding position, then back at the creature closing in on them. "Oh dear God! Otto, what sort of trouble are you in!" The three limbs pick up speed, and while they're eating up ground as quickly as they would if he had use of all four, they're heading for the edge of the park at a good clip. Doctor Octopus whips off his hat before it can be blown off in the wind of their passage and stuffs it into a coat pocket. "I'll explain later!" His uniform, the specialized green jumpsuit, sleeves and legs tucked into the dull yellow gloves and boots, can be glimpsed underneath the coat. Still moving toward the nearest street and buildings, he looks back over his shoulder, lips skinning away from his teeth as he notes the chasing hellbeast; his fingers tighten on the spheroid object. A writhing tongue lolls out of the hellhound's mouth, sending drops of liquid flame to the pavement. It lets forward a baying howl that not only fills the southern section of the park with the horrible sound, it sends a cone of fire ahead to the fleeing pair. "My sneakers! My sneakers," May cries as she feels the heat of the flame through her rubber soles. But as the fire comes that close, it splits into two halves that flow around them to try and cut off their path. "Hold on!" Octavius barks as he twists back around, away from the flames. The sudden motion gives his passenger a nasty jerk (the doctor himself, too, though he's much more used to such), even though he has her firmly in his metal grasp. "Take /this/, you vile beast!" A tentacle snaps upward, snatching the spheroid from his hand and whipping it with deadly precision at the hellhound. It's a grenade of sorts, though armed with holy water rather than explosive material and designed to spread the stuff over a sizeable area. And it's not the only one he has, either, apparently, since even as the first is on its way to its target, he's snatched another one out from his coat pocket. This was unexpected, to say the least. Well, the pair had expected Otto to want to protect his woman, but to what lengths he would go, they had no true bearing. May seems to cry out at the same time as the dog, although none of the holy water reaches her. The Hellhound's painful baying echoes for a while as it disappears in an angry burst of flames. May is still moaning in pain, though it seems with good reason: Her feet were close enough to the flames to get single, melting her favorite pair of walking sneakers and singing her feet. Otto's grin is full of savage triumph, but it vanishes quickly into an angry grimace when he notices his passenger's distress. "/Damn/ them." Still holding the second 'grenade', Octavius starts making speed again, claws pounding the ground, tentacles stretching out to great lengths, away from the fires that continue to burn on the ground far below. He trades glances between the figure held within his coils to the ground below. The altercation lasted hardly any time at all, but the nearby authorities started reacting as soon as the hellhound started breathing fire; After the Phoenix incident, people have gotten terribly antsy about fire in Central Park. "Hold on," Otto mutters, heading in the direction of the nearest flashing lights. /He/ can't drop her off at a hospital, but /they/ wouldn't turn away an injured old woman. May's moaning is reduced to quiet, painful sobbing. Her feet are burned, she'll most assuredly need surgery and wether or not she'll walk again is up in the air at this moment. But it seems for now that the hound has given up its pursuit in the wake of being splattered with holy water. Then the sound of barking startles poor May into looking wide-eyed, though the noise is that of a normal police hound near the flashing lights of a nearby police car. "I'll /flay/ him for this," Otto growls, and then shoots a look at May, noting the full extent of the damage. Anger gives way briefly to a contrite expression, bordering on shame -- but that's gone quickly when the police officers below shout up a challenge. Their guns are out, but they don't dare to shoot while the infamous criminal has a hostage. Instantly, as he focuses on the uniformed figures below and the barking police dog, a sneer twists itself across his face. Their misunderstanding of the situation is written all over their faces, and simply leaving the woman in their care is definitely not going to be an option. Not if he doesn't want to get shot. "/Cretins/," he snarls, changing course with another jerk. There's a building not far away, just across the street of the park boundary, and he heads for it. The barking stops. The police dog senses what only animals can in this situation and has the wisdom to run in a random direction. As soon as one of Otto's legs comes down into a shadowed part of the ground, the hellhound's head snaps up out of the shadow and latches onto the tentacle appendage, then pulls it into the abyss. The limb becomes trapped between the mortal realm and the unearthly plane that the dog calls home while the animal appears on top of a cop car in a burst of fire. The officers react as officers usually do in this situation: Lots of yelling and cursing, followed by running for cover and firing shots without assessing the situation. The bullets penetrate the animal's flaming pelt but melt as they try to travel through its exposed muscles. Its gaze and growl are solely focused on Octavius and his captive, who is now screaming in fear at the returned sight of one of hell's minions. A strangled "Gah!" bursts out of Octavius as his forward motion is pulled up short abruptly. He yanks hard but fruitlessly on the trapped limb. He's already shifted May behind him, placing himself between the hellhound and the old woman. Turning a savage, wild glare at the hellhound, he thumbs the trigger on the specialized 'grenade' and throws it hard at the beast. The police dog isn't the only one with wisdom. The hellhound leaves in just as quick a burst of flames as it came, avoiding the splash that the officers are exposed to without warning. At first they're scrambling, assuming some sort of acid or other chemical. Then they're just standing around, bewildered. And while this happens on the mortal plane, the dog walks casually up to the writhing portion of Otto's limb in its unholy dimension, which it clamps down on again with its maw. The flames of its eyes dim slightly and the rift tightens that holds the limb in place, cutting into that precious metal that nothing on earth can dissect. Only an inch radius is cut into it but the creature seems to know what it's doing. Otto's limbs, flesh and metal both, go rigid as the doctor cries out in pain. His boots hit the pavement with a thump, the two arms /not/ being tortured or wrapped around the old woman barely preventing a painful impact with the ground. The tentacle around May releases her and wraps itself around its trapped sibling; Octavius' attempts to break free become more frantic. One of the cops is radioing for backup, but so far they're still too wary to shoot, thanks to the presence of the injured "hostage." May can barely see for the tears in her eyes and barely move for the sickness of being rocked in motion with the movements of Otto's limbs. But hearing the man cry out in pain triggers her own sense of concern for others. "Otto," she cries out weakly, reaching one hand towards him. The meaty jaws of the hellish dog reach out of the shadowed ground and clamp down on the woman's extended arm. She cries out in both fear and pain as blood, flesh and fabric are seared together on her limb. "OTTO! OTTO HE--" Her desperate plea cuts short as she is pulled halfway into the abyss, her legs left kicking at the ground near Otto's own trapped limb. "NO!" Forgetting his own plight for the moment, Octavius lunges for the spot, grabbing for the kicking legs even though, in the back of his head, he's horribly certain that it'll do no good. The legs are left kicking in sight for a few moments, taunting Otto with their presence. Then they are pulled into the shadow before his lunge can make its destination. The area is silent--the cops stand dumbfounded, not knowing wether to keep their weapons trained on the known mad scientist or keep looking around for signs of that fire demon that just sucked an old lady into the ground. Three of the officers stand together in a group, their shadows melding together. They're almost blown off their feet when a fireball erupts from their combined shadows and flies over them, right in Octavius' direction. The flesh-seared body of May Parker lands hard a few feet away from the man, small flames lapping off of what remains of her clothes. Her eyes bear a vague spark of life in them that gradually fades from her shocked and barely recognizable expression. An unearthly howl erupts from the shadows as the hold on Otto's trapped leg is released. Otto reflexively throws himself backwards and away from the fireball, throwing his arms over his face, three limbs whipping defensively in front. For several long seconds afterward, as the police stand frozen, he stares, gaping and aghast, at the charred corpse. He can't think; the brilliant mind has, temporarily, stuttered to a halt. How long this paralysis might have lasted is impossible to say, but then one of the officers calls out for him to lie face down and place his hands behind his head. Fat chance. Octavius, snarls like a wounded animal and lurches upward on his tentacles -- the damaged fourth wobbly, but the other three more than compensating -- and /leaps/ over the knot of police officers, who scramble to get out of the way of the doctor's lethal limbs. With bullets spitting behind him, Otto Octavius makes his escape. And while the cops are distracted, and Octavius makes his escape, a rottweiler comes halfway out the shadows, latches onto the corpse and pulls it away. The burnt face of May Parker twists into a crispy smile as it joins the dog in the plane of nothingness. Mission accomplished.