Post by Brock on Nov 14, 2017 19:23:42 GMT -10
LOCATION: The Baxter Building
Asking a man like Eddie Brock to accept help from an 'egghead in a lab coat' was tough, but it needed to be done. There were many brilliant minds that spanned through the planet but none in this field were more knowledgeable than that of Reed Richards. Said to have an IQ of 247, he's quite possibly the smartest man in the world and one that understands 'things' that come from outer-space and can threaten humanity.
"Tests have come back clear Mister Brock, there is nothing wrong with you. In fact, your body seems to have healed much quicker than I had expected. Quite the turn around from the detachment you encountered."
That 'detachment' Richards spoke of was Brock and the symbiote being torn apart. It did not just take a mental toll, but a physical one at that. He put it best when he said not having the symbiote was like an addict going cold turkey- the cold sweats, shivers, it was excruciating to say the least but Brock managed, it's all he knew how to do. As Richards scanned over the paper in his hand that was made up on Brock's test results, Reed seemed impressed.
"I must say Mister Brock, you've come a far way. I'm glad that you trusted me with the parasitic organism, I think I'm making strides into figuring out what exactly it is and where it originates from. Once we can figure that out, we unlock the door to a whole new set of answers. Why do they feed off emotion and capable of amplifying it- where exactly did the species originate and how many more are out there?"
"It's not a parasite doc, it's a symbiote."
"Oh, I know. But I do not like to refer to it as such because I know it's listening. Despite the sonic-waves and heat firewall I have to keep it enclosed, it constantly tries to get free -- in an effort, I believe, to bond with you again."
"I'll be honest and say I miss it."
"It's addiction talking, not you."
"You don't understand Richards. In life I was never good enough at anything. As a kid? I put all my time into sports, I made every tackle, I hit anyone that tried to score on our defense but in the end... it was for nothing. No matter how hard I worked to earn my father's approval it fell flat, he didn't care. He said I was a curse- it was my fault my mom died."
"Sounds truly disheartening."
"That's putting it lightly. All that time and energy put into sports and I get my knee shredded, I'm done. I go into journalism, I write-- land a job at The Bugle and I get laid off. Then, I get the symbiote, it makes me feel whole-- I come to find out I wasn't even its original choice, it wanted Spider-Man, not me. I was an alternative option. I try and I try doc, I wanna be the guy who I believe I am but it gets harder by the day. The symbiote, I don't know if it was because it was messing with my brain waves or what, it got me. It understood me, it allowed me to be THE GUY and not just a basic face in the crowd, working a 9 to 5 to get by."
"As a matter of fact Brock, your conclusion is correct. The parasit-"
Brock looked over his shoulder at Reed and shot him a hard glare; Richards knew the subject was still touchy with Brock and would ease that.
".. symbiote- did alter how you thought. It made you depend on it, think of the symbiote as something similar to... an opioid addiction. You were an athlete, I know you understand at minimum how a drug like Hydrocodone works, correct?"
"I do."
"It's similar but not, very complex and hard to explain. From what I've gathered the symbiote manipulated your brain to release chemicals that would be associated with happiness and joy even when you were angry and filled with rage. It's fascinating, the more I study regarding the subject the more interested I become. What also fascinates me is how there is no traces in your bloodstream. An organism like that usually leaves behind a copy of itself in the event that it is removed with haste."
"So you're saying that it's a possibility there's something left in me still?"
"Hypothetically speaking... yes. But tests have shown no results, but we can't trust tests alone. Aside of exploratory surgery I believe we will never find out what lurks within. Though, I do want you to fill out a waiver deeming me the guardian and sole owner of your corpse upon death."
Brock's eyes widened as he turned and held his arms out in Richards' direction. Knowing he crossed the 'scientist' line too much, Reed took a breath- then another, before nodding and keeping his eyes closed.
"My apologies, Sue and I have been working on what can and can't be said in conversation. Is it safe to assume that you will not be donating your body to science upon death?"
"Haven't really thought about it. I'm a Catholic though doc- death is our final rite."
"Ah, religion... you once again foil my plot."
"Not big into God I'm guessing?"
"Mister Brock, I am a man of science and logic. After all I have witnessed elsewhere I know gods exist but *a* god? An omnipresence that is the be-all, end-all? I have yet to come across evidence to prove that theory correct, however I do know that it is entirely possible. Odin's existence shows that possibilities are endless, but until I can prove "God," I will remain skeptical."
For the first time in his visit, Brock cracked a smile as he reached over to put the all black hoodie that was laying on the bench back on.
"Sometimes you just gotta believe."
"I am interested in what drives faith, maybe my next experiment...."
A mind like Reed's worked a thousand miles per hour with no break, Brock didn't take offense to that. Brock and Reed weren't so different if you put aside genius level intellects; Reed's ability was forced upon him when he was on a mission in outer-space, he had no choice but to accept what he was and how he would use it. Brock on the other hand, he allowed the symbiote to convince him the violence and brutality was right, all as he was a 'lethal guardian,' a role that no one seemed to want to take. Both men were gifted extraordinary abilities, Reed used and continues to use his for good, Brock on the other hand was stripped of his and aside of a intense physical workout blessing him with strength and durability, he's quite normal.
"Hey doc, before I go- you think I could see it?"
Richards was busy muttering words to himself, probably different equations to mathematically deduce faith as he turned and quirked a brow.
"It?"
"Yeah, the symbiote. I'd like to see it. I'm fighting the urge to wanna become it again, so if I can see that it's there, I can come to grips with the fact that anything physical, I can beat."
"If you wish."
The Baxter Building was huge, the amount of floors advertised versus actuality was vast. The public knew about the Fantastic Four, they knew about what types of stuff went on within The Baxter Building but the floors itself... that was a mystery. Different areas of the building took you to different elevators, as it was a misdirection device created by Reed to throw off anyone who may gain access to the building. Moving out of the examination room, Reed and Brock headed toward the simple looking elevator in the hallway and Reed scanned his passkey- the door opened as Reed did the same, Brock stepped in and the door closed behind them.
"Are you certain you are ready for this?"
"You said there's nothing wrong with me right? This is just another step in the direction of me facing my demons and beating it."
"Technically it's an extraterre-"
Knowing he was trailing off, Reed stopped his words short and shrugged.
"My apologies."
The elevator let off a light buzz as the doors separated, as both men stepped forward, in the center of the room with almost a blinding orange light moving in a constant circle and a low frequency hum coming from it- the black symbiote, in a pool moved very lightly. Once Brock stepped into the room, the symbiote seemed to come alive and take the form of a wave that crashed against the firewall set up to keep it contained. Over and over again it tried to get free, screeching in pain as it failed to reach it's host.
"Interesting."
"What is?"
"The fact that even behind the defense system, it can still identify you..."
"I'd hope so doc, we were one at one point."
"Valid, point taken."
The screeches which sounded like those of pain called out to Brock, almost putting him in a trance of sorts. As Brock continued to approach the device, Reed's voice got quieter and quieter until a sudden shock was felt where his neck met his head which broke him free from whatever had managed to lock him in that state.
"Now THAT was interesting! The symbiote still has the ability to seduce you, I wonder how?"
The look on Reed's face, plus with him stroking his chin in deep thought could be summed up by saying if curiosity killed the cat; it'd be dead.
"Huh?"
Nothing of the last fifty or so seconds was of Brock's memory, its as if he mind went totally blank.
"You were here but not here. This high voltage tazer actually came in extremely handy, I have to thank Johnny for that."
"Since you're all about science and that noise, is that a normal reaction? I can't remember anything aside of the doors to the elevator opening, it's like I'm dealing with a lapse in time."
"There's so much to learn about what it is and it's capabilities. From the notes I've compiled, it's fully functional and very intelligent. I have yet to put a number on what comparably to human intelligence it is, but my estimation would be very high. The bond between you and the symbiote I suspect is still very strong, and even though you believe that you were the 'rebound' as the kids say, I think it's safe to assume that it has chosen you as it's ideal host. We need to be careful Brock, I don't know how far the reach of it's ability go. I need you to report any strange thoughts, feelings of lost time or any anomalies immediately for all of our well being."
"No problem."
The symbiote managed to pull itself into the shape of a hand, a weak one at that and it stretched out to Brock-- in a silent plead for help. Part of Brock wanted to deck Richards right there, turn off the machine and bond with it again but he knew very little good would come from that. In order to beat the addiction he needed to face it, treat it as the threat it is and beat it once and for all. Turning around, Brock headed back to the elevator and stepped in as Reed did the same.
"I don't need you anymore."
As the doors shut, a voice in Brock's head spoke- one not of this world.
Asking a man like Eddie Brock to accept help from an 'egghead in a lab coat' was tough, but it needed to be done. There were many brilliant minds that spanned through the planet but none in this field were more knowledgeable than that of Reed Richards. Said to have an IQ of 247, he's quite possibly the smartest man in the world and one that understands 'things' that come from outer-space and can threaten humanity.
"Tests have come back clear Mister Brock, there is nothing wrong with you. In fact, your body seems to have healed much quicker than I had expected. Quite the turn around from the detachment you encountered."
That 'detachment' Richards spoke of was Brock and the symbiote being torn apart. It did not just take a mental toll, but a physical one at that. He put it best when he said not having the symbiote was like an addict going cold turkey- the cold sweats, shivers, it was excruciating to say the least but Brock managed, it's all he knew how to do. As Richards scanned over the paper in his hand that was made up on Brock's test results, Reed seemed impressed.
"I must say Mister Brock, you've come a far way. I'm glad that you trusted me with the parasitic organism, I think I'm making strides into figuring out what exactly it is and where it originates from. Once we can figure that out, we unlock the door to a whole new set of answers. Why do they feed off emotion and capable of amplifying it- where exactly did the species originate and how many more are out there?"
"It's not a parasite doc, it's a symbiote."
"Oh, I know. But I do not like to refer to it as such because I know it's listening. Despite the sonic-waves and heat firewall I have to keep it enclosed, it constantly tries to get free -- in an effort, I believe, to bond with you again."
"I'll be honest and say I miss it."
"It's addiction talking, not you."
"You don't understand Richards. In life I was never good enough at anything. As a kid? I put all my time into sports, I made every tackle, I hit anyone that tried to score on our defense but in the end... it was for nothing. No matter how hard I worked to earn my father's approval it fell flat, he didn't care. He said I was a curse- it was my fault my mom died."
"Sounds truly disheartening."
"That's putting it lightly. All that time and energy put into sports and I get my knee shredded, I'm done. I go into journalism, I write-- land a job at The Bugle and I get laid off. Then, I get the symbiote, it makes me feel whole-- I come to find out I wasn't even its original choice, it wanted Spider-Man, not me. I was an alternative option. I try and I try doc, I wanna be the guy who I believe I am but it gets harder by the day. The symbiote, I don't know if it was because it was messing with my brain waves or what, it got me. It understood me, it allowed me to be THE GUY and not just a basic face in the crowd, working a 9 to 5 to get by."
"As a matter of fact Brock, your conclusion is correct. The parasit-"
Brock looked over his shoulder at Reed and shot him a hard glare; Richards knew the subject was still touchy with Brock and would ease that.
".. symbiote- did alter how you thought. It made you depend on it, think of the symbiote as something similar to... an opioid addiction. You were an athlete, I know you understand at minimum how a drug like Hydrocodone works, correct?"
"I do."
"It's similar but not, very complex and hard to explain. From what I've gathered the symbiote manipulated your brain to release chemicals that would be associated with happiness and joy even when you were angry and filled with rage. It's fascinating, the more I study regarding the subject the more interested I become. What also fascinates me is how there is no traces in your bloodstream. An organism like that usually leaves behind a copy of itself in the event that it is removed with haste."
"So you're saying that it's a possibility there's something left in me still?"
"Hypothetically speaking... yes. But tests have shown no results, but we can't trust tests alone. Aside of exploratory surgery I believe we will never find out what lurks within. Though, I do want you to fill out a waiver deeming me the guardian and sole owner of your corpse upon death."
Brock's eyes widened as he turned and held his arms out in Richards' direction. Knowing he crossed the 'scientist' line too much, Reed took a breath- then another, before nodding and keeping his eyes closed.
"My apologies, Sue and I have been working on what can and can't be said in conversation. Is it safe to assume that you will not be donating your body to science upon death?"
"Haven't really thought about it. I'm a Catholic though doc- death is our final rite."
"Ah, religion... you once again foil my plot."
"Not big into God I'm guessing?"
"Mister Brock, I am a man of science and logic. After all I have witnessed elsewhere I know gods exist but *a* god? An omnipresence that is the be-all, end-all? I have yet to come across evidence to prove that theory correct, however I do know that it is entirely possible. Odin's existence shows that possibilities are endless, but until I can prove "God," I will remain skeptical."
For the first time in his visit, Brock cracked a smile as he reached over to put the all black hoodie that was laying on the bench back on.
"Sometimes you just gotta believe."
"I am interested in what drives faith, maybe my next experiment...."
A mind like Reed's worked a thousand miles per hour with no break, Brock didn't take offense to that. Brock and Reed weren't so different if you put aside genius level intellects; Reed's ability was forced upon him when he was on a mission in outer-space, he had no choice but to accept what he was and how he would use it. Brock on the other hand, he allowed the symbiote to convince him the violence and brutality was right, all as he was a 'lethal guardian,' a role that no one seemed to want to take. Both men were gifted extraordinary abilities, Reed used and continues to use his for good, Brock on the other hand was stripped of his and aside of a intense physical workout blessing him with strength and durability, he's quite normal.
"Hey doc, before I go- you think I could see it?"
Richards was busy muttering words to himself, probably different equations to mathematically deduce faith as he turned and quirked a brow.
"It?"
"Yeah, the symbiote. I'd like to see it. I'm fighting the urge to wanna become it again, so if I can see that it's there, I can come to grips with the fact that anything physical, I can beat."
"If you wish."
The Baxter Building was huge, the amount of floors advertised versus actuality was vast. The public knew about the Fantastic Four, they knew about what types of stuff went on within The Baxter Building but the floors itself... that was a mystery. Different areas of the building took you to different elevators, as it was a misdirection device created by Reed to throw off anyone who may gain access to the building. Moving out of the examination room, Reed and Brock headed toward the simple looking elevator in the hallway and Reed scanned his passkey- the door opened as Reed did the same, Brock stepped in and the door closed behind them.
"Are you certain you are ready for this?"
"You said there's nothing wrong with me right? This is just another step in the direction of me facing my demons and beating it."
"Technically it's an extraterre-"
Knowing he was trailing off, Reed stopped his words short and shrugged.
"My apologies."
The elevator let off a light buzz as the doors separated, as both men stepped forward, in the center of the room with almost a blinding orange light moving in a constant circle and a low frequency hum coming from it- the black symbiote, in a pool moved very lightly. Once Brock stepped into the room, the symbiote seemed to come alive and take the form of a wave that crashed against the firewall set up to keep it contained. Over and over again it tried to get free, screeching in pain as it failed to reach it's host.
"Interesting."
"What is?"
"The fact that even behind the defense system, it can still identify you..."
"I'd hope so doc, we were one at one point."
"Valid, point taken."
The screeches which sounded like those of pain called out to Brock, almost putting him in a trance of sorts. As Brock continued to approach the device, Reed's voice got quieter and quieter until a sudden shock was felt where his neck met his head which broke him free from whatever had managed to lock him in that state.
"Now THAT was interesting! The symbiote still has the ability to seduce you, I wonder how?"
The look on Reed's face, plus with him stroking his chin in deep thought could be summed up by saying if curiosity killed the cat; it'd be dead.
"Huh?"
Nothing of the last fifty or so seconds was of Brock's memory, its as if he mind went totally blank.
"You were here but not here. This high voltage tazer actually came in extremely handy, I have to thank Johnny for that."
"Since you're all about science and that noise, is that a normal reaction? I can't remember anything aside of the doors to the elevator opening, it's like I'm dealing with a lapse in time."
"There's so much to learn about what it is and it's capabilities. From the notes I've compiled, it's fully functional and very intelligent. I have yet to put a number on what comparably to human intelligence it is, but my estimation would be very high. The bond between you and the symbiote I suspect is still very strong, and even though you believe that you were the 'rebound' as the kids say, I think it's safe to assume that it has chosen you as it's ideal host. We need to be careful Brock, I don't know how far the reach of it's ability go. I need you to report any strange thoughts, feelings of lost time or any anomalies immediately for all of our well being."
"No problem."
The symbiote managed to pull itself into the shape of a hand, a weak one at that and it stretched out to Brock-- in a silent plead for help. Part of Brock wanted to deck Richards right there, turn off the machine and bond with it again but he knew very little good would come from that. In order to beat the addiction he needed to face it, treat it as the threat it is and beat it once and for all. Turning around, Brock headed back to the elevator and stepped in as Reed did the same.
"I don't need you anymore."
As the doors shut, a voice in Brock's head spoke- one not of this world.
"We are Venom, forever."