Rᴏʙᴇʀᴛ Mᴏɴᴛᴀɢᴜᴇ Rᴇɴғɪᴇʟᴅ (insects) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2017-04-02 17:36:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, doug ramsey (cypher), hank mccoy (beast) |
Who: Hank McCoy & Doug Ramsey
What: Doug brings by the image inducer for Hank to use, so he can actually go out in public
When: Backdated to March 27
Where: Hank's place
Rating/Warnings: Suitable for all ages~
Status: Complete
Doug was grinning as he slid into his rental car and drove toward Hank McCoy’s house. It wasn’t the one from his dreams, but the guy seemed nice. And Doug had the image inducer and wasn’t using it, so why not? He felt like people should help each other. His dream self had really been into that, and he was, more and more, feeling like he had to be that person, like the person he had been before was… vanishing. He shook that away as he stopped at Hank’s house and went to the door and knocked. He had the image inducer held in one hand. It looked like a watch, and the face was on a hinge that swung open, revealing the controls. They were complicated, but intuitive, and he was sure Hank would do well with them. *** Being trapped in his house wasn’t something Hank had anticipated - but he couldn’t very well go out in public like this, not unless he wanted to be shot with either bullets or tranquilizer darts and obviously incite panic in the masses. The vial of serum that had appeared, from a world away, was at the forefront of his focus now - in his home laboratory, he toiled away over what he would consider an upgrade. Something that, when injected, properly suppressed the animal instincts he was now cursed with. And suppressed the look about him that was nothing short of nightmarish. Besides the soothing hum of his laboratory equipment, the machinations at work, his space was quiet and cold as a morgue. He didn’t feel right, and he hadn’t since he’d changed the night of that invasion. It was a struggle to reconcile the human and the animal, the beast; Hank was afraid he didn’t know who he was anymore. His simultaneous working and ruminating were interrupted when sharp senses picked up the sound of someone at the front door. Yellow cat eyes, bright as a lamp, blinked once, twice - and he rumbled a growl deep in his chest, a low sound, until he remembered what time it was - and that he was expecting company. Maybe it was a good spot for a break. Hurrying to the door, he opened it carefully and kept his gaze down, like he was ashamed. In a way, he sort of was. “Ah, yes, Mr. Ramsey. Please come in.” *** “Thanks, Doc.” Without hesitation, Doug entered and smiled as he glanced around, then turned back to the scientist. Seeing the man’s downcast look, Doug felt bad. He knew he had it easy, with his looks and his powers. Sure, he would never be super good at fighting, but he would never be persecuted for his looks. He lifted the device, smiling gently. “I brought it.” *** Thank whatever deity one might worship - whichever benevolent, almighty Creator of the week! Hank was rather relieved to see this image inducer, and he took it carefully in large hands (paws) with words of gratitude. “Oh, it’s a watch, how ingenious,” he said, having flipped open the top portion to assess the various mechanisms - watch out, his mind was already moving at about fifty-thousand miles an hour. Likely he could become immersed in studying such a lightweight-yet-complex piece of technology, but he wouldn’t be rude. He still had a guest, after all, and wished to always be a proper host. His mother had once taught him manners. “But, er, right! Would you care for anything? And please, have a seat. If you have a few moments to visit, I’m most curious about your dreams.” *** Doug smiled. “It even keeps correct time.” He chuckled, watching the man take it, so much like his dream self and yet so much not. THis was so trippy. ”Water, maybe? I’m fine, but hopefully, this will help you.” *** Water, Hank could do water. He probably owed Mr. Ramsey more than H2O, for so kindly letting the blue furry scientist use this wonderful image inducer, but he’d start small first. Into the kitchen he went, grabbing water and putting on a pot of coffee - because it would be another long night, most likely, working on perfecting the serum. When he returned, he handed over the glass. “So, what is it you dream of exactly?” Hank wanted to know. “The...atmosphere, what is it like?” He realized he didn’t know a thing about Doug’s dreamscape, and he wanted to fix that. Studying the worlds of others was educational, when it came to trying to understand this OC phenomena. *** Doug smiled. “I dream of an Earth where there are superheroes, mutants, supervillains, time travelers, necromancers, people coming back from the dead, people coming from other planets… in a way it’s like here, but more so.” Doug chuckled. “I am very different there.” *** All of that sounded like a lot, but Hank could keep up. One word, mutants certainly got his attention. At least they had that in common. “I see, so the x-gene is very much a part of your dreamscape as well?” he asked excitedly - from what he’d heard from Emma, they weren’t so ‘in the dark’ about mutations, the genetics and science of it all, in her separate world. One that Hank was quite curious about. “I have a friend who speaks of another version of me,” he added thoughtfully. “Is this...the same world, perhaps? Her name is Emma Frost. She is a telepath.” Though he thought he’d heard of her in his own dreams too - if so, she was clearly sidetracked by Shaw. Hopefully that situation improved - obviously, he and Emma were closer in her dreamworld. “And what about you, are you also in possession of the x-gene?” *** “Yes it is. I am a member of a class of mutants being instructed at a school.” Doug waited for the inevitable questions. He had debated not answering, or lying, but why? In the end, that would serve nothing. At least Doug thought so. At the question, he chuckled. “I think so, or an alternate universe of the same. It seems there are several of our world and it’s variations.” He nodded again, sighing. “Yes, in the genes, I can translate, decypher, and write any code I encounter within moments. From language to machine code.” *** “Several,” Hank concurred, brow scrunching. On the one hand, it was fascinating to consider that theories pertaining to the multiverse and other realities were a lot more than just theories when you were experiencing it all firsthand. On the other, it was also confusing and the cause of a little bit of an existential crisis. Who were you supposed to be, if there were so many of you?? A question for another time, perhaps. Henry would focus on the here and now; it was safer that way, and already gave him enough to deal with. He went and poured himself a cup of *** “Ah, well, as to that, not yet. Not sure if I will. Until the abilities started coming through, I didn’t like computers very much, and i was not in any field close to them. I was a professional swimming and surfing instructor and competitor, and a former Olympic hopeful.” Doug cut himself off and smiled lopsidedly. “I’m still reconciling having a whole new understanding of, and skillset relating to, things I didn’t even like before.” The whole experience was odd, and offputting, if he had to admit it, which so far, he was avoiding. “The dreams can be… odd.” *** Well, stars and garters, that was quite the switch! Dreaming of being a coder, and here in this different life a surfer. “The cognitive dissonance must be unnerving,” Hank nodded in understanding - so Doug hadn’t turned into a bluer, furrier version of himself but he was changing. Mentally. Emotionally. It wasn’t easy, and Hank sympathized with him. “And you have...support, people to talk to, things of that nature?” he checked, just to be sure. “I know we barely are acquainted, but you’ve done me a great service and you didn’t even know me. I’d like to help you too, if I can. Even if it’s just a listening ear.” Naturally, he couldn’t guarantee that the dreams would cease entirely. But not being alone while they bombarded you seemed to be one of the best ways to handle everything. *** Doug nodded. “It is, sometimes. Sometimes, it can be a real headache, like, an actual one.” He chuckled. Information filling his hard head was making his head hurt regularly. “I do. My oldest friend in the dreams, who I knew, some, anyway, here, is in town.” DOug smiled widely now. Kitty Pryde was amazing. She was one of the best people he had ever known, and he owed her a lot. He had no idea, at the moment, that at least part of his feelings for her were from the dreams. Doug smiled at Hank and stuck out his hand. “Thanks, Doc, and you too, okay? I’m not the smartest guy around, but if I can help, I’ll always be here.” He grinned. “I know the way now, anyway.” *** “There are more ways to help than lending a fact or two, or solving an equation,” Hank assured with a rumbling chuckle. He clasped Doug’s hand in his own, gratefully. “I thank you again for your assistance! We mutants have to stick together, I suppose.” It was a cruel world out there for their kind - a world that viewed them as not belonging, a world that wished for them to be eradicated. So the more alliances they could make, the better off they’d be - he had a feeling it was like that in Orange County too, not just another world. That was, well, life. Ups and downs and everything in between. *** Doug nodded. “Very true. You’re pretty wise for a smart guy.” Doug grinned to ease the teasing. He nodded. “Anytime. And not just mutants, but humans, too, everyone.” Then he paused. “Though… mutants too, always. You’ve got more friends than you know here, Hank. And you can believe that you are not alone.”: And maybe that would make the difference. “What is it you do, in this world, anyway?” *** That was reassuring, actually. In an odd sort of way - odd in the sense that thinking of himself in another world, a version he had yet to see in his dreams was something he didn’t exactly know how to process - but also comforting in that, well, if he was that appreciated there? Maybe it wasn’t so bad. “I’m a scientist with the Department of the Navy,” he smiled, flashing those sharp, elongated canine teeth. Fangs - he had yet to wrap his head around the term. “Surprising, I know!” Or not at all, considering who he was. That was mostly meant as a joke. “Biochemistry and genetics are my specialties, though I dabble in electronics as well. I dabble in a bit of everything. I compose music on the side too.” *** Doug surveyed the other man and nodded. He was like and yet unlike the Doctor McCoy he knew in his dreams. Younger, less mutated, and less doubtful of everything, thankfully. He nodded again. “That’s pretty cool. And amazing, really. I’m still trying to figure out what i want to be as an adult, myself. You’re way ahead of me.” *** In a way, Hank had always known what he would be - perhaps it was because he matured faster than his peers, was always light years ahead in terms of schoolwork, and couldn’t quite remember what it was like to actually be a kid. Strange to consider, but there was no changing it now. The past was just that. “Everyone goes at their own pace,” he said, his tone warm (and a bit growly - that couldn’t be helped). “It sounds like you are on a good track, and you will get there in time.” That was all any of them could hope for, even Henry - maybe he had the ‘career’ portion of life figured out (for now), but he still had a lot to learn about himself, about who he was. Self-discovery. Such a wonderful journey for them all, wasn’t it? |