Johnny Storm (
faceofthe4) wrote in
tushanshu2013-04-14 03:53 pm
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10° VIDEO
[There's a pause before Johnny's face appears on the screen, bent over to press the buttons. Once he confirms that the screen is on, he straightens and makes sure he's in frame, wearing very basic clothes.]
Aw, Reed. You shouldn't have! It's a little small, but I admit, I like what you've done with the place.
[He waits a beat, as if Reed might actually respond.]
There are two obvious possibilities for why I'm here. One, the Emperor is a crazed fan who abducted me to find out if The Torch is really as hot as they say he is – I am, by the way – or, two, I'm actually dead, they're lying to me, and I have a motorcycle and a pile of women waiting for me somewhere.
[A split-second pause.] I'll tell you what. If it's the first option? You can come find me. If it's the second, let me know and I'll come find you. Until then? This Fire Sector is like home, sweet home.
Johnny out.
Aw, Reed. You shouldn't have! It's a little small, but I admit, I like what you've done with the place.
[He waits a beat, as if Reed might actually respond.]
There are two obvious possibilities for why I'm here. One, the Emperor is a crazed fan who abducted me to find out if The Torch is really as hot as they say he is – I am, by the way – or, two, I'm actually dead, they're lying to me, and I have a motorcycle and a pile of women waiting for me somewhere.
[A split-second pause.] I'll tell you what. If it's the first option? You can come find me. If it's the second, let me know and I'll come find you. Until then? This Fire Sector is like home, sweet home.
Johnny out.
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[To the latter, his smile wanes.] That's usually what they say before they try to kill a bunch of people. Are you sure you don't want to talk about it? I can be there in a hot second, if you don't trust this network.
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That provokes an immediate tensing, and though he doesn't frown it's obvious he's deeply unhappy with the implication. Largely because he can't completely deny it.] I'm not a villain. Why do I keep... [Having to say this. Sigh.] It's hard to control, but I'm trying.
I really don't want to talk about it.
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So okay, why not.] It's Bruce Banner.
I don't think you know enough about me to have any kind of point.
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Well, Bruce, I don't know much about you, but I know a lot about a guy like you who doesn't like talking about it either. The thing is, if you don't want to be a villain and it's just a matter of control, then that's something we can work on.
Trust me, I can take whatever you can dish out in the meantime. I'd appreciate if you could tell me about it beforehand, so that I know what I'm dealing with, but I'm not going to force you to talk about it. As long as you realize that not talking about it is exactly how you become the villain, accidentally or intentionally.
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And congrats, but you're actually annoying him, which is tough to accomplish. On Bruce the annoyance looks like anyone else's mild irritation, but it's significant; his words sharpen and he makes direct eye contact, unflinching.]
I don't think you understand. No, I know you don't understand. I have a condition. A power. A monster that lives inside of me. I'm not a villain because I've made it so that I'm not one.
My entire life is about control. The things I've given up-- [He stops, can't bring himself to admit this to a total stranger. Exhales, trying to release the pent up aggravation. Let it go.
And he does. He relaxes, calms, becoming level again just like that. It's all battened down. The difference is swift and stark.] Whatever you think you can do, that you can work on? You can't. I appreciate the offer. If I lose it and you stop me, I'll personally thank you afterwards.
But that's all we're doing.
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Got it. [A beat.] So how do we make sure it doesn't get out?
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You don't make me angry. I don't let myself get angry. Or hurt. Or anything else.
You just work on that first part.
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What is it that sets you off? I don't mean anger. I mean what chemical is it? Maybe we can find a way to suppress it.
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I have a lot of experience with biochemistry, and chemical suppressors haven't... There was one, but I can't recover it or replicate it. I've given up on that aspect of it. [And that had taken a lot for him to do.] Trust me, if you can think of it, I've tried it.
You can't help me. [Bruce appreciates that he's trying to do the right thing, he really does, but he needs to get that out there. Having his every failure to find a cure thrown in his face, unintentionally or not, is not fun for him.]
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[Don't worry, Bruce. He has selective listening.]
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The man that made it was killed, or maybe hauled away into a government hole. Because of me.
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Then we find someone else who can make it. Or we figure out a way for you to make it yourself.
[He'll leave that boring science stuff to you.]
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No, listen, that doesn't-- I don't even know if that compound could do more than suppress a specific flare up. Testing it alone would probably get people killed.
[He actually brings one hand up to his head in pain.] Just leave it. There's other people you can actually hero here. I'm not someone to save.
[He's really, really not.]
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I'm not trying to save you, Bruce. If what you say is true, I'm trying to save them.
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But then he says the one thing that Bruce is always trying to convince other people of.] I-- I know. [Suddenly he looks exhausted. His hand comes down, and he leans back in his seat.] That's what I'm trying to do. That's what I've always tried to do. No matter what it took.
So, just. Please. Believe me that I'm incurable. It's hard enough for me to believe myself. Right now, I'm trying to focus on... on learning how to coexist with him. Him, not it.
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[A short pause, an implied philosophical and ethical dilemma that ends in an implied threat.]
There has to be some way to expedite the process or to help you along.
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You can't hurt him, not for long. I'd be a lot easier to contain if that weren't true. [He'd also have taken care of it himself a long time ago, put another bullet in his brain, but he doesn't say that.]
As for the process, it's... it's personal. I just met you. [All of Bruce's possible methods for resolving this involved some sort of psychoanalysis, or soul baring, or self-examination. He barely even lets the people he does trust in on that.]
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Maybe we need to make it impersonal. Maybe that's the problem.
[He's just guessing now.]
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It's a big problem, but I don't know how to make it impersonal. I can't talk to him, it's not like-- like we have a phone line. [Sometimes he gets flashes of memory, but they're more horrific than helpful.]
And he's not exactly the brightest crayon in the box. There's maybe a five year old's level of cognition there. It's like he's never heard of direct objects.
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What are you going to say?
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encrypted 60% -- also I've decided this is his Johnny icon
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