maskormenace | [Video] An accidental, personal rant

[warning: threads could potentially contain manipulation, emotional abuse, violence]

[In complete rejection of the vulnerability within himself - the sadness and weakness that he felt his unwanted shadow version had projected - Beck has become more unstable, spurred on by the feeling of lacking control. He's been working with his tech and while frantically pushing buttons, he's accidentally switched on to broadcast.]

Okay, let's do this one more time...

[He's speaking to the side, at something not seen by the camera. His voice is tense.]

It isn't enough that you made me feel like I was this small.

[His fingers close down to nothingness.]

No, not even that small. That I didn't exist.

Or that it felt like I was dead and gone and still should only be spoken about as a waste of space.

No. No, no no...

[He shakes his head, grimacing and the tension is starting to boil up and over.]

No, now you have to bring that into it--

[He points at something again out of camera range.]

Something that really, really shouldn't exist. I'm past that. I'm better than that. Despite your best efforts to keep me invisible, I'm not. People see me. People know who I am, for better or... for worse.

[He clenches his jaw at those words, fists forming at his sides.]

I'm noticed. That's what's important here.

Right? Right?

[His voice is rising, passionately angry.]

I am a known entity. I am Mysterio!

[He makes a grand sweeping gesture and his formerly regular clothing instantly transforms and reveals he's actually wearing his flashy hero suit.]

This is who I am now. It's who I'm meant to be - and you are not going to stop me. Not by your words. Not by your memory. Nothing you can do can stop me.

[He's glaring angrily past the camera then he raises his hands, green energy forming around them. His voice is quieter but now deadly.]

I should have killed you in more than just a story.

[And he lets the energy flash across the room in a bright, destructive blast. The shock of it is enough to jar the device and cut off the feed.]

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Sure. I shouldn't be long.

[And he is there in a much shorter time than eleven hours... A quick trip to the Porter then find the address. He's decided to wear his hero outfit; he feels he wants to have his powers on hand along the way. So it's full costumed Mysterio that arrives at her doorstep. At the very least he appears to be a little calmer as he opens the door.]

Hello...?

[Jane pokes her head around from the kitchen. Her place is small and uncomplicated, and in looking around, he can probably figure out where everything is. She’s a little surprised to see him dressed up like that, but costumes have their uses, and he probably had his reasons. It’s good to see him a little less angry than before. The trip probably helped.]

Hey, make yourself at home. Do you like anything in your tea?

A dash of milk and sugar? Please.

[He glances around and gives her a smile. It's a little strained and his eyes look weary.]

Sure, no problem.

[There is some clinking and she comes out with two mugs, handing his over as she sits down in an armchair. He can start whenever he'd like, or silence was good too. Either way, she'd listen.]

[For a moment it seems he'll say nothing. He sips his tea, standing where he is and looking off into the distance with a slight frown. Then he glances to her, noticing that she was waiting and willing to listen and he just... starts up.]

You know, I try so hard and people just won't do this. They won't listen. They have their own agendas and their own problems and nobody cares what's going on with others.

[He lets out a sighs, closes his eyes, pressing his lips together and clenching a fist before he opens his eyes again and continues with growing passion.]

All my life I've been rising above what I was told as a child. That I was useless. That I was worth nothing. That my hobby and interest in films and effects was stupid and pointless and I'd never amount to anything. And you know? As a child, that's hard to take. I withdrew. I played alone with my action figures. I made stories with them and filmed that - when I still had my video camera. Given to me by my uncle but my father saw fit to smash it in a rage. But I persevered. I would show him that he made a mistake. That I was going to be somebody and that people couldn't ignore me like he did. They wouldn't think I was some worthless kid. Some pathetic loser. Some--

[He halts abruptly, wincing; his expression a mixture of anger and pain, his eyes shiny with tears not fallen. His fist relaxes, arm falls to his side, shoulders slumping and he sighs heavily then downs the rest of the tea.]

[Jane is quiet while he speaks.

She gets it—she does. Being told all of these things from such a young age cannot be easy. Even if someone had legendary persistence and stubbornness, such words always left an impact. Such actions, especially by someone who was supposed to support and love you, would drive anyone away from their goals and dreams. At the very least. She was lucky in that her parents supported her and her professors graded fairly. Sure, her colleagues and other professionals in various fields thought she was crazy, but she was later vindicated.

He hasn’t had that opportunity yet.]

I had similar thoughts, about a year ago. It just sucks when someone looks at you or listens to you, only to dismiss everything and not give a good reason why.

There was never any reason.

[He speaks bitterly, looking down at his now empty teacup with disdain.]

[She nods, agreeing.]

Would you like some more tea?

[She has a feeling that he still has some more to get off his chest.]

Yes. Or something stronger.

[He says, holding out the cup.]

Yeah, I got some stronger stuff.

[She takes his cup and momentarily goes back to the kitchen, coming back with a bottle of whisky. She is still working on her tea, but he's free to do as he'd like.]

You haven't had much time to work on those dreams, even here, have you?

[Eyebrows raise at the whiskey. He's not a big drinker but he won't say no to a sip or two right now. He pours about a third of a cup and drinks half of that to begin with.]

Not at all.

Do you know what happened on the very first day I arrived here? A bunch of people immediately told me I was a villain in their world and the enemy of Spider-Man. They forgot this is a path to the multiverse and refused to give me a chance at all.

Soon after...

[He downs the rest of his cup.]

... someone broke into my apartment and went through my things. I caught them in the act.

[She shrugs at his expression.]

I was out of beer.

[Besides, whiskey was meant to be sipped.]

Any chance you were able to go to the police about this?

[But she has no idea what to do about anyone's preconceived notions about him. He might already be trying to prove himself, but that might be backfiring.]

The little creep was a shapeshifter. Turned into a fly or a mosquito to literally go through the keyhole in my locked closet to snoop around.

The police may have had trouble holding him if I had. And how would you even prove it? No obvious break in. No fingerprints.

Oh.

[That would make things difficult, to put it mildly. But now she has a feeling she knows who it was. Overall, it sounds like he keeps getting punched every time he stands back up from a previous blow. Him blowing up like that was probably a long time coming.]

I'm sorry, I wish there was something more I could say or do. For this ... whole situation.

[Because it's better to be honest about not knowing what to do upfront, as Darcy had told her so many times.]

[Video] An accidental, personal rant

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