Prismatic ⇒ Avengers [ 2 ]

Octavius

The first thing I notice, as we file into the lecturing hall, is that everyone present is at least ten years older than us- people that look like they have stable lives and jobs, and don't spend their nights hitting strangers in New York's dark corners. Must be interesting to be normal.

Most people stare, a few whisper when they look more closely at my face, and I feel a lot worse than I did at the school. It's one thing to be talked about by teenagers, but adults is another thing. Peter doesn't let to of my hand until we find seats at the back of the room, so people can't stare at us from behind. If they want to look, they can turn.

Peter squeezes my arm gently, a smile tugging the corner of his mouth, and my heart feels as if it's skipped a beat, my structured, controlled rhythm fluctuating. God, his smile is going to be the death of me.

When everyone's sat down- and it's an almost full hall, with only a few seats spare- a figure shuffles in, his back hunched over, covered by a dark green coat. Peter leans forward so eagerly, and so suddenly, that I can conclude that this must be the Dr Octavius we're supposed to be hearing. When he glances around the room, I see his eyes are covered by the thick lenses of chunky black glasses, and his face has a squarish, pressed quality.

"It's good to see so many of you here," he begins, looking around. Peter grins at me, his eyes shining. I've never seen him so excited. "Especially as I wanted to show you all something I've never demonstrated in a lecture before."

An excited whisper rushes around the room, as quickly as wind, and everyone seems to lean forward, like children wanting to see a magic trick. Even I feel my heart rate increase as the thrill of the sentence hits me, despite knowing nothing about radiation or physics, or whatever he'll talk about. Just listen, you might actually learn something.

Peter's hand suddenly slips into mine, and I lose my train of thought completely, gripped by something that feels too nice to be panic and too frantic to be joy- as if I'm terrified of simultaneously hurting him and caring too much- especially when his thumb starts tracing over my skin absently.

However, all human distractions are flung out of the window when Dr Octavius takes off his coat- and it's all I can do to try not to gasp too loudly at what's underneath. It begins at strip of waistband, a metal strap around his stomach. From his back, however, four arms- long, metal arms that twist and snap at the air- reveal themselves, coiling like snakes into the air.

"Science is dangerous," Octavius announces into the stunned silence. I can barely take my arms away from the contraption, the way the arms move with a strange elegance all of their own. Each arm ends in a claw mechanism, and as he talks, one picks up a cup on his desk. "We all know that. Science can have... Horrific consequences, especially on human life."

I don't miss the way his eyes linger on me, just for the briefest of seconds.

"So we strive for safety. But all progress has risk, we just have to try to eliminate that risk. That's why I designed these arms." He spreads his own, human arms, and the mechanical ones follow them. If everyone was excited before, they're practically hanging off the edge of their seats now. "I can deal with dangerous chemicals at a safe distance, with perfect control of how I'm using them. No clunky machines, no difficult robotics."

"But how can you have complete control?" Someone in the front row calls out, apparently unable to keep the thought to himself. I don't blame him- I can't actually tell how the man is controlling the contraption, but it does seem like there must be some sort of remote control.
"Because, my friends, it responds to my thoughts."

Stunned silence.

I exchange an incredulous glance with Peter, who's eyes are shining so brightly it looks like someone's plucked the stars from the sky and blessed him with them.
"Your thoughts?" He asks, making everyone turn to look at us. I wish I could melt back into the seat, but I hate to grit my teeth and try and ignore the feeling of all their eyes on me.
"Precisely." Octavius looks thrilled, and I can see why. This could be huge! I can already see Tony trying to recreate the technology- I almost feel like texting him about it. At least he'd be safer when he's working late at night.