(no subject)
It's something Norman had finished pretty quickly once he'd set his mind to it some weeks back, but it's still been a long time coming. If he'd had his way, this fun little stunt would have been in the can ages ago, but an increasingly shaky confidence in his ability to hold himself together has been postponing it. He knows he doesn't need a bunch of lousy prescription drugs to pull off his grand revenge on Spider-Man, some of the greatest coups in his career have been perpetrated while he's been completely clean, but even he has to admit it's been increasingly difficult to maintain a consistent...
...mood.
When he's on, he's on, the big man on campus, large and in charge, and while he's still on enough to keep anyone around him from getting suspicious, he knows. Knows what's hiding just behind his eyes, knocking at the front of his skull, wanting out. There's no chance of it succeeding, of course, and the odd giddy spell or bad temper shouldn't be enough to rattle him, not after all the things he's done with his life, and yet it has. The mask's been in danger of slipping one or two times.
So, really, it's for the best that he's waited so long to receive his depressing reminder of "home". It's the ultimate reaffirmation of the identity he's created for himself here, and if Norman's confidence is a little off because of things a bunch of quack doctors back home told him, that just means Alton needs to pick up the slack. His head's been clear for some time now without any trouble, so he's got no more excuses for dawdling. It's so clear. It's crystal. Swarovski.
The costume's not much, but a lot of patience, cooperation from the clothes box, and long nights spent working on it in the out-of-the-way cave he's set up shop in has provided something passable enough. It's white (white for the perfect little white-hat, heh), and spandex, perfectly his size, with gold boots, gloves, and trim to match. There's even a goddamn cape. Truth be told, it's pretty hideous, something Noh-Varr would wear maybe, but that's really just an argument in its favor.
Getting it in a position to be found had proved an interesting problem, and in the end he'd smuggled it into the rec room under cover of night, waited until nobody was around, and then stashed it under one of the couch cushions, where he's been watching random reels of Hogan's Heroes ever since. Given how many hours it's been now, he's very nearly ready to kill himself, so he figures it's as good a showtime as any. He'd considered taking it up to the roof and striking some dramatic, broody poses, but figured there'd be more opportunities for meaningful interaction in here. And hey, if not, he can always take this Saturday morning cartoon show on the road.
Once he sees an opening, certain he's not being watched, Norman makes like he's getting up to switch out reels on the projector, reaching underneath the couch cushion to pull out his good-guy costume (no mask, the real ones never wear them, which obviously says something about Spider-Man, doesn't it) just enough to give it a reason to catch his attention.
"No."
Eyes widening, he turns back toward the couch, snatching up the long garment and clutching it to his chest. It's a reminder of his home, his family, his duty, everything that he's missing by being stuck here. It's what he needs to keep Alton Hartford in play just a little while longer. Norman will have to move quickly from here on out if he wants to last long enough to put final plans against the Spider into motion, but it works as a stop-gap. Gritting his teeth and clenching the suit in his fists, Norman swears.
"@#$%&!"
[Been putting this off until my schedule sorts itself out, but since it really doesn't look like that's happening any time soon, have a fake item post! Open for new tags up to December. :D]
...mood.
When he's on, he's on, the big man on campus, large and in charge, and while he's still on enough to keep anyone around him from getting suspicious, he knows. Knows what's hiding just behind his eyes, knocking at the front of his skull, wanting out. There's no chance of it succeeding, of course, and the odd giddy spell or bad temper shouldn't be enough to rattle him, not after all the things he's done with his life, and yet it has. The mask's been in danger of slipping one or two times.
So, really, it's for the best that he's waited so long to receive his depressing reminder of "home". It's the ultimate reaffirmation of the identity he's created for himself here, and if Norman's confidence is a little off because of things a bunch of quack doctors back home told him, that just means Alton needs to pick up the slack. His head's been clear for some time now without any trouble, so he's got no more excuses for dawdling. It's so clear. It's crystal. Swarovski.
The costume's not much, but a lot of patience, cooperation from the clothes box, and long nights spent working on it in the out-of-the-way cave he's set up shop in has provided something passable enough. It's white (white for the perfect little white-hat, heh), and spandex, perfectly his size, with gold boots, gloves, and trim to match. There's even a goddamn cape. Truth be told, it's pretty hideous, something Noh-Varr would wear maybe, but that's really just an argument in its favor.
Getting it in a position to be found had proved an interesting problem, and in the end he'd smuggled it into the rec room under cover of night, waited until nobody was around, and then stashed it under one of the couch cushions, where he's been watching random reels of Hogan's Heroes ever since. Given how many hours it's been now, he's very nearly ready to kill himself, so he figures it's as good a showtime as any. He'd considered taking it up to the roof and striking some dramatic, broody poses, but figured there'd be more opportunities for meaningful interaction in here. And hey, if not, he can always take this Saturday morning cartoon show on the road.
Once he sees an opening, certain he's not being watched, Norman makes like he's getting up to switch out reels on the projector, reaching underneath the couch cushion to pull out his good-guy costume (no mask, the real ones never wear them, which obviously says something about Spider-Man, doesn't it) just enough to give it a reason to catch his attention.
"No."
Eyes widening, he turns back toward the couch, snatching up the long garment and clutching it to his chest. It's a reminder of his home, his family, his duty, everything that he's missing by being stuck here. It's what he needs to keep Alton Hartford in play just a little while longer. Norman will have to move quickly from here on out if he wants to last long enough to put final plans against the Spider into motion, but it works as a stop-gap. Gritting his teeth and clenching the suit in his fists, Norman swears.
"@#$%&!"
[Been putting this off until my schedule sorts itself out, but since it really doesn't look like that's happening any time soon, have a fake item post! Open for new tags up to December. :D]