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Norman PINs into the living room of his apartment, with a good grip…

Norman Osborn


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Norman PINs into the living room of his apartment, with a good grip on his daughter's wrist, a grip he doesn't relax.  He doesn't start in on her immediately, either.  Because what the hell do you say?
  • She'll start, then, shall she? Yelping a little, trying to pull away from him -- still wearing that ridiculous, far too revealing outfit. "Dad!"
    • One deep breath, two. Not going to explode at his daughter before she's even born.

      "Care to explain that display?"
      • She glares at him, more annoyed and frustrated than properly angry. "What about it?"
        • His glance at her clothes says a great deal.

          "You told me you were worried about involvement with him."
          • Hmph. She crosses her arms over her chest. "Yeah. And it's the best idea in the world to let him know that."
            • "It's a damn better idea than this" A gesture includes her clothes and whatever she was doing in the Nexus. "Is he from your time?"
              • "Piss off the Joker? Yeah, great idea." She rolls her eyes. This is a damn sight more independent than he's probably ever seen her before. "And he's from here, so far as I know."
                • Frustrated noise! "Than it hardly matters what he thinks at all, does it? He's not going to wait eighteen years to exact revenge, if you disappear."
                  • Something goes cold when he says that, her green power bright now like chill poison, not new spring grass. "I am not 'disappearing.'"
                    • Deep beath. "What are you doing? Everything."
                      • Business. Business she can do. (Even wearing this ridiculous outfit.) Deep breath -- "I keep antidotes to at least two versions of Smilex on me at all times, and I'm working on getting more. If I can get samples of his version, I'll be taking them to Doctor Takashima, in my own time, and getting an antidote to that, as well. I always have my PINpoint. I always have a close-range weapon. I've been working on my -- abilities, and the speed with which I can affect changes in organic systems. I've let him know my name, but nothing else about me -- not my family, not my world or time of origin, not where I attend school, not my --" No. That, she isn't supposed to mention. She shakes her head, frowning. "I may act like an idiot in the Nexus, but that doesn't make me one, father."
                        • He's resisting the urge to simply drape the couch throw around her. And the urge to ground her. That never worked terribly well with... well, it's not feasible in this case anyway.

                          "I know you're not an idiot, Sophia. But I don't trust whatever he wants from you, or what you're getting in return."
                          • "I know he's dangerous. And I know he probably wants... something like that from me." She wrinkles her nose. Ew, boys. "I can take care of myself, though. And if he tries anything, I'll break his kneecaps with a lemon reamer."
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