capeandcowllogs | I've got to medicate myself;

WHO: NORMAN OSBORN and ANGELICA EINSTÜRZEN
WHERE: NOHoPE.
WHEN: Saturday, late afternoon.
WARNINGS: Nothing dire, but the people who are involved should be warning enough.
SUMMARY: Norman sees shadows and must suffer treatment.
FORMAT: Paragraph.

He'd awoken to the thin silhouette of a woman cast over him, shadow laying over his face and cutting against the wall. He could feel it the way someone feels eyes upon them, but when Norman Osborn opened his eyes, he was looking at the clean, white ceiling. No one was there.

But sitting up, he could see that they were. There she was, moving closer as if to sit beside him on the bed, reaching for him with limbs that clung to the walls. "Emily," he murmured, "Cool it."

The hours didn't pass easily. More shadows crawled about him, trapped in the cell as he was. He recognized Donald Menken, sitting by him, he recognized his own Harry sitting with Emily. But there was another silhouette he couldn't quite place -- they darted around the room, pointing to Norman and swiping at the air, restless and angry. Norman closed his eyes against him, but he could hear them whispering. He could feel them flitting around by the way the light vanished in blinks across his eyelids. At first they were innocuous, but Norman could see them getting more frantic, more restless, running their wispy spidery fingers upon him.

He covered his ears, breathing quickly. "Go away. All of you! OUT." His voice and his demands got louder as the shadows clung.

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Savage. There was, at her core, something in Angelica Einstürzen that yearned for savagery. The same part of her that took children and turned them into monsters, pitted them against each other in bloody battle until only the strongest, the most vicious were left standing in crimson glory--

But she was letting herself get carried away. That was a dangerous thing. The situation required control.

Angelica tapped her fingers against her lower lip, agitated.

"I beg to differ, Mr. Osborn. I know precisely what I'm doing." She drifted closer, lowering her voice. Watching unblinkingly. "You should be quiet now."

"No," he said, adamantly. His eyes were manic, frantic, fixated on her. "I won't be quiet. What then? You know," they darted from her for a moment, thoughtfully regarding his captive wrists, "No matter what you do to me here, I'm the one who knows where I'll be at the end of this. I'm the one who gets to be alive. What can you do to me beyond pain?"

Norman laughed -- bitter and piercing. It didn't have the dry amusement that it would normally, nor was it patronizing. It was sincere, almost pleased. He looked at her, daring her to call his bluff.

Something about that laugh grated on Angelica's nerves. She was in a state somewhere between excitement and agitation, both which required a tight leash. The woman was well-aware of her various neuroses, her little ticks. The disobedience-- that always struck a mild nerve. Men and boys, they never wanted to listen, did they?

"Perhaps the pain will be more than sufficient," Angelica responded lightly. The pleasantness of her voice was betrayed by the way her oddly-numbered fingers fidgeted restlessly, the mad glint to her stare. "I suppose this means you aren't quite ready to stop then, Mr. Osborn."

With an easy movement, she flipped the switch again, activating the electric current. Six seconds.

"Ghhh." Norman inhaled through his teeth, eyes rolling upward. It was a struggle to keep yelling out -- he inhaled sharply, then exhaled, keeping his breath at a rough pace. Six seconds felt like sixty, but when the shocks had ceased Norman looked at her again. The alien lustre that had been in his eyes seemed to have departed, for now.

"I'm not begging for your mercy," he hissed. "Who put you up to this? Surely I haven't insulted you personally. Nothing I've done to you warrants such attention."

"It's curious that you think you are in any position to ask me questions, Mr. Osborn." Angelica smiled pleasantly, showing her teeth. "I'll let you consider the matter for yourself. Something to keep you busy while you sit in your cell."

She came closer, placed a six-fingered hand on his shoulder and tightened her grip. Surprisingly strong, for such slender hands.

"Are you going to behave yourself if I let you up?"

Norman chuckled dryly, breathing slowly. His fingers clenched again into his palm, not looking at her for a few moments. He didn't flinch when she touched his shoulder, though he let his eyes slide easily over first her hand, her arm, and then he met her own eyes.

"I'm the portrait of good behavior, doctor."

Her stare continued to be unblinking. She had used variations on that particular line plenty of times herself. She doubted the sincerity of it. But time was of the essence. Treatment couldn't carry on forever.

"I had hoped you would say so, Mr. Osborn."

Angelica moved to remove the electrodes and loosen the tight straps.

Once freed, Norman rubbed his raw wrists, keeping his eyes leveled on Angelica with caution. He smiled, and stood, baring his teeth just a fraction.

"Then I take it we're done here."

I've got to medicate myself;

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