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Full Name: Dr. Otto Gunther Octavius
Aliases: Doctor Octopus, Doc Ock
Sex: Male
Age: 51 years
Height: 6 foot 3 inches
Weight: Approx. 375 lbs (including metal arms)
Eye Color: Brown
Hair Color: Brown
( The Details... )
For Daredevilawyer
((Continued from here...))
As much as Dr. Octavius would prefer a stealthy approach, there's only one way he has to move quickly across the city, and it's not the most subtle. On the plus side, while he did stop not far from the hideout to place a call that will likely draw the police, the rooftops aren't the first place they're going to look. His captive, who has turned out to be something of an unexpected ally, has been rebound at wrists and ankles with a length of cord that hobbles his steps. It's more for show than security, since he's already let the man arm himself with a small piece of metal tucked in reach up his sleeve. The nightsticks have been returned, if only because he's being restrained and kept out of reach of the flesh-and-blood man. The metal arms, after all, don't find those a threat.
Thus bound, Daredevil has been wrapped in a curled actuator- tight enough he couldn't get free if he tried, but gentle enough not to hurt, and all that says just how precise and controlled those metal arms truly are. He should be used to being lifted up already, and this time it's more comfortably so, around the waist, but then when they leave the building, he can hear the crunching grip of actuator claws on concrete, as the arms scale the wall, and then they're off and moving at speed across the rooftops, swinging easily over alleys, and it's a kind of locomotion like nothing else. Sight isn't needed to enjoy this, and in fact he's better off keeping his eyes closed thanks to the rush of the wind. It's almost like flying, and if he could see, his captor enjoys this method of travel. It's almost over too soon, as they sink and land in an alley, Octavius giving a quiet grunt as weight is dropped back onto his own feet. "All right, we've got a fire escape to go up, and no tricks." He doesn't quite trust him, really. The actuator holding Daredevil brings him close enough for Octavius to clamp a solid hand on his shoulder. Then all four arms are in retreat, rearranging and drawing themselves up, and there's pressure as the bigger man leans on him just a little. Arms hidden under the long coat, he's carrying a lot of weight on his own two legs, now, but it does make him less recognizeable as the infamous Doc Ock.
As much as Dr. Octavius would prefer a stealthy approach, there's only one way he has to move quickly across the city, and it's not the most subtle. On the plus side, while he did stop not far from the hideout to place a call that will likely draw the police, the rooftops aren't the first place they're going to look. His captive, who has turned out to be something of an unexpected ally, has been rebound at wrists and ankles with a length of cord that hobbles his steps. It's more for show than security, since he's already let the man arm himself with a small piece of metal tucked in reach up his sleeve. The nightsticks have been returned, if only because he's being restrained and kept out of reach of the flesh-and-blood man. The metal arms, after all, don't find those a threat.
Thus bound, Daredevil has been wrapped in a curled actuator- tight enough he couldn't get free if he tried, but gentle enough not to hurt, and all that says just how precise and controlled those metal arms truly are. He should be used to being lifted up already, and this time it's more comfortably so, around the waist, but then when they leave the building, he can hear the crunching grip of actuator claws on concrete, as the arms scale the wall, and then they're off and moving at speed across the rooftops, swinging easily over alleys, and it's a kind of locomotion like nothing else. Sight isn't needed to enjoy this, and in fact he's better off keeping his eyes closed thanks to the rush of the wind. It's almost like flying, and if he could see, his captor enjoys this method of travel. It's almost over too soon, as they sink and land in an alley, Octavius giving a quiet grunt as weight is dropped back onto his own feet. "All right, we've got a fire escape to go up, and no tricks." He doesn't quite trust him, really. The actuator holding Daredevil brings him close enough for Octavius to clamp a solid hand on his shoulder. Then all four arms are in retreat, rearranging and drawing themselves up, and there's pressure as the bigger man leans on him just a little. Arms hidden under the long coat, he's carrying a lot of weight on his own two legs, now, but it does make him less recognizeable as the infamous Doc Ock.
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Rebirth of a monster
Doctor Otto Octavius was not as altruistic a man as some believed him to be, and in creating a new energy source he wanted not only to help mankind, but also to prove something to them. He wanted his name to go down in history, to show up all those who belittled him or stood in his path along the way, to prove his own genius to the world. His intentions were not entirely noble.
But he never wanted to kill thousands just to flip the light switch.
What would his wife, Rosie, think of a monster who did that?
When he pulled the fusion reactor into the river, he knew he would go down with it, and if there was little chance he could join Rosie in Heaven, at least he would join her in death. The sacrifice was intentional, made with a rational mind, and without the consultation of the four artificial intelligences in the metal arms fused to his spine. He was ready to die, and be at peace.
~*~
Doctor Otto Octavius woke on a quiet stretch of shore on the bank of the Hudson, later, daylight burning his eyes, and life burning in his chest. His skin was raw and blistered, and his heart seemed to be trying to claw its way out of his chest, through a fresh three-pointed starburst of burned flesh there. He rolled over, and coughed up seawater and blood until the world turned black again.
Later, the metal arms that had pulled him from the river dragged him unwilling to shelter under an old pier, and gently roused him into consciousness again. His story should have ended with the destruction of the second fusion reactor, and now he was at loose ends. It took a day or two for him to resign himself to still being alive, and venture out to steal food. That was when he saw the Daily Bugle. The main article covered the sinking of the fusion reactor.
By Spider-Man.
Much as he loathed the wall-crawler, even J. Jonah Jameson had relented to the idea that Spider-Man had saved the day, this time. That 'Doc Ock' had gone down with his own creation was, in the public eye, a welcome relief.
Doctor Octavius was too stunned to do anything but drop the paper, and wander numbly back to the shelter of abandoned warehouses and crumbling docks. The anger came later, welling up and spilling out in a rage that destroyed his latest shelter and sent a score of terrified homeless men away from the area forever. Resurrected by the actuators out of the sense of self-preservation he'd programmed into them himself, Otto Octavius had been robbed of the solace of death. With the news articles and the public opinions that followed them, even the attempt at sacrificing himself was robbed of dignity. For now, the city didn't know that he was still alive, but he would see to it things didn't stay that way.
He never wanted to die a monster, but if the world had labeled him a monster even in death, then he'd show them just how terrible a monster he could be.
But he never wanted to kill thousands just to flip the light switch.
What would his wife, Rosie, think of a monster who did that?
When he pulled the fusion reactor into the river, he knew he would go down with it, and if there was little chance he could join Rosie in Heaven, at least he would join her in death. The sacrifice was intentional, made with a rational mind, and without the consultation of the four artificial intelligences in the metal arms fused to his spine. He was ready to die, and be at peace.
Doctor Otto Octavius woke on a quiet stretch of shore on the bank of the Hudson, later, daylight burning his eyes, and life burning in his chest. His skin was raw and blistered, and his heart seemed to be trying to claw its way out of his chest, through a fresh three-pointed starburst of burned flesh there. He rolled over, and coughed up seawater and blood until the world turned black again.
Later, the metal arms that had pulled him from the river dragged him unwilling to shelter under an old pier, and gently roused him into consciousness again. His story should have ended with the destruction of the second fusion reactor, and now he was at loose ends. It took a day or two for him to resign himself to still being alive, and venture out to steal food. That was when he saw the Daily Bugle. The main article covered the sinking of the fusion reactor.
By Spider-Man.
Much as he loathed the wall-crawler, even J. Jonah Jameson had relented to the idea that Spider-Man had saved the day, this time. That 'Doc Ock' had gone down with his own creation was, in the public eye, a welcome relief.
Doctor Octavius was too stunned to do anything but drop the paper, and wander numbly back to the shelter of abandoned warehouses and crumbling docks. The anger came later, welling up and spilling out in a rage that destroyed his latest shelter and sent a score of terrified homeless men away from the area forever. Resurrected by the actuators out of the sense of self-preservation he'd programmed into them himself, Otto Octavius had been robbed of the solace of death. With the news articles and the public opinions that followed them, even the attempt at sacrificing himself was robbed of dignity. For now, the city didn't know that he was still alive, but he would see to it things didn't stay that way.
He never wanted to die a monster, but if the world had labeled him a monster even in death, then he'd show them just how terrible a monster he could be.
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