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WHO: Peter Parker/Spider-man (bythreadalone), and Godzilla (
gamera_sucks)
WHERE: Central Park
WHEN: 12:30am-ish, Monday March 23rd
WARNINGS: Violence. Lots and lots of violence
SUMMARY: Godzilla teaches Peter the meaning of the words: "pecking order."
FORMAT: Para
Even if Peter was still slightly hung over from last night's "cheering up of Logan" (re: drinking until he couldn't see straight), he couldn't help but think that tonight was perfect for a short run through the park. It might've been an arrogant thought, but the fact of the matter was that he usually never really stopped to take in the sights of New York at a speed of less than fifty miles an hour, and kept himself so high above everything whenever he put his mask on that using his legs for walking instead of wall-crawling seemed almost ludicrous to him. It felt almost -- well, he wouldn't say right, because this wasn't his New York in the first place, and it wasn't just his atmosphere to enjoy all by his lonesome; but, it did certainly feel good to have solid ground beneath his feet, for once, and he'd enjoy the feeling. Come rain or shine.
"Hey, watch where you're going, buddy!"
Even if he did have to share the sidewalk with just about everyone else.
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He stood there, staring at them, watching them with cold, red-gold eyes and thinking about the mutants he'd mowed down.
They were wrong. It hadn't been the same.
Something abruptly grabbed his attention, made his stomach growl with immense hunger--his head snapped up and he looked around for the source of the familiar 'scent'.
Radiation. He could sense it. He wanted it. Wanted to absorb it. Had to have it.
The fact that it belonged to a human only made him all the more pleased.
Godzilla lowered his head and hunched over slightly, preparing to enter attack mode, lumbering forward slowly, one heavy step at a time.
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The fact that this City's Central Park seemed almost analogous to his own didn't help things, either; he kept running, oblivious to how many people he was passing, making his way deeper and deeper into the heart of the place until he was almost alone.
'Never imagined it'd be so peaceful,' he thought, hoping that his notorious curse to be forever unlucky would keep its ugly head out of his business, for once.
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He bent, pulling a head-sized rock free from the dirt, hefting it up. It would be easier if he could just smash the source before they could see him. It would be better. The mud smeared across his fingers and dried up fast in the heat radiating from his skin, flaking away again and falling back to the ground.
Godzilla fought the urge to roar, knowing it would frighten his food away, and flung the chunk of misshapen stone as hard as he could at the stranger, trying to aim for their upper half. It was far more difficult than aiming his blasts, but if he could score a hit...
Lj ate my reply. Argh.
It must've been why Reed rarely, if ever, went out onto the field anymore.
His Spider-sense hit him like a freight train, erasing every sense of self he had save for reflex. He somersaulted before the whatever was approaching him even came into his field of vision, arching up and over the thing, his hands lashing out as he shot a pair of weblines towards it.
Once stuck, he yanked the boulder -- which meant he was dealing with someone who had super-strength, joy of joys -- towards him, landing on it so that he could ride it back down to earth without it getting away from him and maybe hurting someone else in the vicinity. The entire movement took him less than four seconds to go through with.
Now came the hard part -- finding the perp.
's ok
Fortunately for Spider-Man--or perhaps not--Godzilla was neither a person, nor like very many other people, and was rather pissed off about missing his shot.
He let out a bellow in challenge, stepping into full view just up the way, waiting for the other to try running up and attacking him. It had been so long since anyone had done anything aside from run in panic...
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Only this time, instead of mutants, or Doctor Octopus, or even Carnage taking a shot at him, it was Godzilla tracking him down in an effort to finish making him pay for whatever affront to his pride Peter had dealt him.
Out of costume.
In the middle of Central Park.
Without his communicator on hand.
Greaaaaaaaat.
Peter let his mouth run before Godzilla started to him.
"Uh, hey King -- nice night out for a stroll, innit?"
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Radiation. 'King'. The webbing on the rock.
"...You, I know."
He hissed, fingers flexing in anticipation. Light red energy crackled down the spikes on his back; his angry look turned into one of vicious joy--and somehow, that was worse.
"You, I kill."
It would be a great victory.
"Spider-human give up now, die? Or fight, die? Am nice. Am let make choose."
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If he survived, that is.
Peter put up his hands in a placating gesture. "Hey now, we don't have to be so violent with one another, right?" he asked, trying his best to look weak and unassuming. "I mean, we're heroes!" he nodded, obviously trying to convince Godzilla that he was being sincere. "We do good things for good people, protect the things we care about, and we don't hurt each other!"
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"I not hero. I mutate-thing. You say me this. Am understand, now. I just stupid monster, danger for all human, like bad things at Tower. Not can be hero. Not care anything here. What I have protect?"
Godzilla shook his head in a sharp 'no' gesture.
"I care me. I protect me. I do what want. That all important."
Another step, and the light that had traveled down his back was building behind his fangs.
"I hungry. So, am eat."
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God. If only he could turn back time.
"There's a difference between who you are and who they are, Godzilla!" he nearly shouted, casting out his hands and leaving himself open to attack. "Powers and mutations don't make a person: it's the intent behind them, and what we do with them that make us who we are. You can be hero if you want to be, even if people are initially afraid of what you can do."
He let his hands fall to the side, then, and spoke quietly. "I was -- you scare me, King, you know that?" he shook his head, laughing a bit. Either what he said next would kill him or change everything. He had to look for the right words. "You're strong. You're very strong. I just don't know how to handle havign to work with you, you know?"
His voice dropped down to a whisper. "If you ever snapped, I don't think any of us could stop you."
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For one brief minute the light held, neither disappearing nor exploding outwards. Godzilla felt the words as they slid into his mind and worked themselves into the cracks there, the thought of some day being seen for what he knew he could have been--could be--tempting him into backing away. Into turning and leaving Spider-Man there, alive and whole. To return to his den and live by the rules the City had forced on him on his arrival, in the hopes that he could finally find his place among the humans.
But forces of nature cannot really be stopped--cannot be tamed. He first came to life as Godzilla enraged and strong, like nothing before him ever had been--was born as the result of man's inability to maintain self-control over its own need to dominate the weak. It was written in his every cell, etched in by atomic energy gone wild, and though he tried to overcome it time and time again, he could not help returning to his origins. He was but a beast of destruction hiding within what had once been a man's body--nothing more.
If you ever snapped, I don't think any of us could stop you.
"Not have work with me," he said, leaning forward, bracing himself. "Not can work when dead."
A fast breath, and the air was split by a beam of red with a nearly-earsplitting sizzling sound.
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No -- the Tyrant Lizard King, as he had been dubbed numerous times, would not stop until Peter was either dead, or dying. Peter knew it almost as quickly as he knew that the blast coming his direction would not only destroy the boulder he was using as it shield, it would cut through it and out the other side.
Decisions. Decisions.
"Have it your way, then!" he shouted mid-leap, already pulling the boulder up to his feet, his muscles straining as he braced himself in mid-air and literally turned himself into a human sling-shot a moment later, letting the boulder fly straight at Godzilla's face.
calculated how fast the atomic blast was coming versus how quick he could do what he was about to do,
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He was surprised, though; Spider-Man had a fast reaction time, and he was used to fighting enemies his own size--which, naturally, meant those as slow as himself. There were different ways of dealing with speedy types that he hadn't had cause to use much, and now he would have to try and remember those tactics.
His battle with SpaceGodzilla taught him to use his environment, rather than simply let it get in the way. They were in a park. What did he have to use? Dirt. Grass. The pond was too far away to be useful. Trees? Bushes? He circled slowly, looking for the right angle.
Straightening, he inhaled again, faint energy crackling behind him for a split-second before he let it fly free again--only this time, it wasn't aimed for Spider-Man. It passed him overhead, relatively weak, but just enough. This time, he cut a swath of flame through the old plant life behind, watching as it blazed alight and formed a barrier of sorts.
If he couldn't catch Spider-Man, he would force his opponent to come to him.
"Where you run now, bug?"
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"Don't need t'run, Zilla!" he aimed as best as he could, still crouched low, and let fly with as much webbing as he thought would suffice, aiming to cover Godzilla's legs from the knees downwards. Hopefully, if the big guy fell down, Pete coudl take the battle out of the park before things got too bad.
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He shoved his face down into the ground, and blasted it instead of Spider-Man, violently heating up the wet earth below him, the explosive force of it blasting it upwards in a thick shower--chunks of fast-baked earth, driblets of molten rocks, pieces of fulgurite glass.
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After the initial attack was over, he fired another webline at one of the trees behind him. Once it was secure, he wrenched the medium sized thing forward, pivoting hard in the opposite direction so that it would hopefully crash, branches first, into Godzilla.
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The tree abruptly rolled to the side; he pulled himself upright--and shot not at Peter, but at the webbing on his legs. He remembered that his ray could destroy it, from his battle with Toxin; true enough, it disintegrated like so much tissue paper, and very shortly afterwards, he was free.
The tree had gouged him pretty badly in places, long, orange-ish rivulets of blood beginning to harden from the heat emanating from his skin. A few branches had broken off and stuck into his flesh; the smaller of the injuries were already healing over.
Godzilla picked up the tree by the trunk, swinging and then letting it go, hurling it at Peter's left, following immediately with an inwardly-swinging blue-level blast at his right, the glowing patches on his skin brighter than ever.
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Peter leapt up, muscles straining as he launched himself ten feet skywards. He didn't have anything as fancy as a symbiote, or a fancy, million-dollar suit to protect him, but he did have one thing Godzilla didn't when it came to a fist fight.
Experience and speed.
One webline flew towards the lizard's side, while another lanced out at a nearby park bench. While still in mid-air, Peter yanked hard on both weblines, his superhuman strength literally firing the iron-wrought bench directly at Godzilla as it was torn from the ground. Hopefully, the mega-lizard would would follow suit...
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Besides--if it had worked on Kumonga, it should have worked on a spider-human as well.
Godzilla dropped to his knees, grabbing the webline attached to his side--the bench flew overhead much like the rock had; as it passed, he swung around, line in hand, with the intent of crashing Peter into the very missile the other had hurled.
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"Woah!"
Try as he might, however, there was only so much a human body could do with so little time allotted to it; Peter took the bench straight to the spine, bowing backwards mid-fall as the hit sent him flying to the right of Godzilla, his body skipping twice against the hard ground before it came to rest.
'Owowowowowowowowow.'
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He lumbered over as quickly as possible, and without so much as a how-do-you-do (or even stopping his going momentum), gave a vicious kick to the side.
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It was a wake-up call to how serious this was becoming, to be sure. The kick to his ribs only served to further compound the fact in his mind, even as he felt his stomach lurch somewhere up into his throat.
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Not enough. He had to have more--had to get--
Godzilla reached down and grabbed him by the arm, pulling it up hard and stepping on Peter's chest with one big foot. He pressed down, leaning into it with all of his weight, hearing a crunch or two as ribs slowly cracked inside. Maybe with luck, he'd puncture a lung--or both.
He felt the energy slowly leaving Peter, being absorbed into his own body, and stood there that way as he 'ate', rumbling contently.
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Not being able to pull off a plan without quipping about it, though? That was unimaginable.
"H-hey, Zilla," he stammered, already tasting blood in the back of his mouth. "Got a quick question for you."
Peter tried to grab onto the forearm attached to the hand wrapped around his arm, pulling himself up to it as he spoke. "What happens when you introduce twenty CCs of an intensely paralytic neurotoxin into the veins of a radioactive Gecko mutate?"
His stingers pushed out from between the carpals of his wrist without a sound, sinking into Godzilla's flesh without meeting resistance. Peter laughed as best as he could.
"I'd imagine that it's the same thing that happens to everything else, yeah?"
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Of course, it was probably not the brightest of ideas to paralyze the guy half-bent over him, but we'll forgive Peter the mistake. After all, he was partially dead and probably not entirely there mentally.
Godzilla grunted, his eyes rolling backwards a little, and... fell.
Down.
On top of Peter.
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'Why me'
If he didn't die from suffocation in the next five minutes, at least it'd be interesting story to tell Kitty when he got back home.