metalogs | OPEN | Paint Yourself A New Life

Entry tags:

OPEN | Paint Yourself A New Life

Who: David Alleyne

helpdesk_hero, Mina Ashido

pinkxeno, Harry Osborn

nepotis, Bucky Barnes

sinistral
What: David Has Many Meetings (Including Open Post)
When: [Forward Dated] April 1st through 5th
Where: Excelsior - Guild Housing #1, Excelsior - Connoisseur Coffee,
Content Warnings: Only in Thread Labeled V - Seeking Comfort: discussion of murder of children, attempted suicide, David's death, hate crimes

I. A Home Of Clashing Styles | Closed to Mina Ashido | Excelsior - Guild Housing #1
David had been living in the guild apartment for a month now, or just a shade over, and all that time he'd been holding his tongue. Beyond introducing himself to Mina when he'd first moved in at the start of March, he had not engaged with the young woman much, and definitely didn't stay long in the public spaces of their shared home. How could he when he was faced with the absolute disaster of the appearance? A living room painted electric green with zebra stripes? Horrid. A kitchen filled with insanely colorful and not always matching touches and appliances? Oh god. Even the small touches of decoration in the public spaces made David try not to wince.

Honestly, he hadn't even invited his boyfriend over because of the state of things. Most days he just came home from work or other things, walked in the door, visibly winced, and went right to his room or attached lab. But today, as he came back from the office in full business wear, vest and long sleeve shirt and tie and all of that. And walking in like that, with his back pack and a bag of groceries for him to cook dinner, he just couldn't take it anymore.

"Just... do it like an adult," he told himself before lifting his voice, hoping it would carry to wherever his housemate was.

"Mina, can we talk for a moment?"

II. Looking At The Moving Pieces | Closed to Bucky | Excelsior - Guild Housing #1
The weekend. David made a hard and fast rule to not go into the office on weekends, which made it the perfect sort of time for outside consultations. Today was one of those instances. After a previously successful first meeting with one Bucky Barnes (because of course David had recognized the man for who he had to be) back in March, today was going to be the first full check over, for the two of them to determine if David would be a good emergency tech for the man.

David waited in the living room for the knock at the door, knowing he'd have to let the former Winter Soldier choose his own pace at being comfortable with his arrival. What what little first hand knowledge that had been shared with him by people back home, he imagined the man would be... nervous. But David couldn't be certain. He'd met people from other versions of his world, and they didn't always line up personality wise.

But he was going to do his best to support the guy, and try and hide that he might have pre-formed opinions based on a whole other man. So he kept himself quiet and patient until he heard the knock at the door. David rose quickly and moved to it, opening the door to meet the other man.

"Mister Barnes, good afternoon. Come on in. Would you like any refreshments before I guide you back to my work room?"

He had no intention of calling it a lab. Not with a man no doubt tormented by his universe's Hydra.

III. The Coffee Conundrum | Closed to Harry Osborn | Excelsior - Connoisseur Coffee
Coffee. It was something that mattered to David, quite a bit actually. Caffeine was part of his diet, perhaps more than it should be. And, until he had the money to properly kit his kitchen out with a good brewing set up, David found a local coffee shop to indulge his needs. The world had blessed him with a great coffee shop between the apartment and his office, and it was here that David appeared multiple times a day. A quick stop in first thing for a coffee on the way to work, a trip in the evening for a cup to take home, and of course this, his lunch break.

David was currently settled in the cafe as he was most afternoons, in a table near a wall that normally wasn't the most desirable area of the care. His back was to the wall, and in front of him on the smaller table was a laptop. The other chair at the table was taken up by a back pack, and taking up the rest of the room on the table was another laptop, sitting closed, which was a weird thing, unless one knew David. Truth was the two laptops were interfaced, and he was using his technopathy to boost the processing of the one he was currently working on.

Thing was most days David did this, and it wasn't a problem. But today? Today there was a convention in town, something David wasn't aware of, and the cafe had packed to almost bursting when David wasn't aware of it. He'd been too engrossed in his current design project, his attention flicking back and forth between his typing and the medical journal at his side, opened to a recent article about a new study on regenerative rates of the nervous system. Truly, he had no idea how rude he was being taking up a table that could be used by others, especially after he'd finished his packed punch and coffee just a few minutes ago.

Perhaps someone should go and shuffle the man out of the space.

IV. Wildcard | Open to all
[OOC: I'm open to anything here, giving David a chance to hang out with his standing CR or meet new people. My only rule is that interactions would happen in Excelsior. If you have an idea that the above open post doesn't allow for, either private message this account or hit me up on plurk at

churbooseanon or discord at Churby#4290. OR throw your own starter out in here. I'm happy to do many things.

IF you're looking for things that may be good hooks, David's a technopath, associated with a company that makes prosethetics and assistive technology, an accomplished chef that will be hitting up stores around the city for quality food and cookware/appliances, a technopath that will be around many computer shops, and honestly? He's a hockey nerd so you might find him at sports bars sometimes. Other than that, he'll likely often be out reading books in parks, or even just scientific journals. Guy has a spread of interests and we can talk it out to figure what might best hook a character into paying attention to him or coming over to say hi.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Well, at least he's diverted the guy from thinking he's a meta. Bonus points.

"Yes, I do. It's a nice place to live, if you can get past the way the confluences can make the city uncomfortable from time to time. But the Guilds do try and warn us."

He still thinks the guy could be a meta. He just doesn't think he's one from another world, who came here through a Confluence.

"Yeah, sorry about that. I'm responsible for at least one crater, myself." He tries to laugh it off, at least.

"Do you know what the housing market is like— specifically for people not on a trauma surgeon's salary?"

Seriously, secret identities suck to maintain when people assume things. But hey, they're talking, and he doesn't know the assumption. He thinks he's in the free and clear. Or he will until he hears who this is.

"It's nice enough, though far from cheap. You're looking at the most cutting edge city in the country. I'd definitely suggest having work lined up before considering moving out here. Good news is the coffee is lovely."

He smiles and looks to his cup. Which is... empty. Shit. Mistakes were made.

"And I'm not on a trauma surgeon's salary. I currently work with a company specializing in prosthetics and assistive technology. Thus the study. Knowing adaptive rates of nerves is important if you're out to make new limbs and have them interface with a person's mind, to serve as a true new arm or leg."

"That it is." Harry lifts his own cup in cheers and takes a sip.

He's slightly less interested in the guy's line of work when it comes to prosthetics. Only because it doesn't directly apply to him. But that's just Harry's self-centered nature slipping through the façade of friendliness.

"Fascinating." Not really. "I don't have that kind of scientific background myself, though back home I did used to run a biotech firm, for a bit."

It's definitely going to be hard to start from scratch, here.

"A biotech firm?" David asked. How interesting. Still, he's intrigued.

"What did you guys work on? If nothing else, if it's relevant, I might be able to get you an interview with Adaptech."

Because it doesn't hurt to have more employees with varied skill sets in his opinion.

"It wasn't all biotech, but that was a large part of what we did. We had some military contracts, some civic engineering... We designed and built a new power grid for the city of New York. But maybe our most groundbreaking research was done in the field of cross-species genetics."

He's great at talking about what Oscorp did, not so great at contributing to the work itself. In another life, he would've done well in the marketing department.

He laughs, shaking his head self-deprecatingly. "All of it was far over my head, really. I just inherited the company when my dad passed."

Cross species genetics. Inherited company when his father passed. Military contracts. New York.

Ah.

"It occurs to me I haven't introduced myself. I'm David. And I've got to say, cross-species genetics is a very troubling field that I don't think is a very good idea."

"Harry. Harry Osborn." He says openly and without hesitation, seeing no reason why some native would know who he is or have formed any prior judgements.

"It's an ethical minefield, to be sure, but the potential applications to the field of human medicine make it worth the effort, in my opinion."

Yep. There it is. Loki had warned him. And now the man showed up at his table. It makes David sigh.

"See, from my experience, OsCorp never really advanced the medical world. In fact, I have little love for your father's work."

The idea that his Norman had passed away in this Harry's world is a relief. Though he can't be sure it's true. Osborn does have a way of just showing the fuck up.

Harry's open, genial demeanor instantly shifts. He leans back in his chair, eyes narrowing, expression growing closed off.

What the fuck?

"I thought 'here was home' for you."

"It is now," David answered, leaning back in his chair. "I'm a Chicago native who spent a lot of time in upstate New York, and your father, from my instance of Earth, was a megalomaniac, not to mention a very annoying villain. I won't even call him super."

Because Green Goblin was, and only would be, a horrible person. Harry, though, he might have potential.

"Loki told me you were here."

Harry presses his lips together, nodding as the pieces fall into place. So Loki is talking about him behind his back, and as more than just 'my boyfriend's best friend.'

"You're from Loki's world, then. The world with a thousand heroes." It's clear from his tone what his opinion on so-called 'heroes' is.

"Did he tell you we don't have that, in our world? That we have just the one, and he's a selfish, selective jerk?"

Well, if it helps, David and Loki have quite a few reasons to consider the man's father the worst thing ever. In their world, the man had done quite a bit of terrible things to them.

"That you don't have what? A lot of villains? Just your father?"

Harry's nostrils flare in anger.

"Look, I'm the last person to sing my father's praises, but he wasn't some supervillain, torturing puppies for his own personal amusement. He invested in this research to try to survive, as long as he could. And even then, he couldn't manage to do that."

The hand holding his paper coffee cup is white-knuckled and trembling. Part of that tremor is anger, but most of it is because stress hormones trigger a worsening of his retroviral hypodysplasia.

"I never used the word 'super', as I would not give him such high ratings. But in my world the Green Goblin is known for his villainy. He wasn't, to my knowledge, known for any illness, though. Clearly a universal difference. And therefore I apologize. The man you knew is not necessarily a good correlation for the one I did."

That said, he does have a reason for his feelings, and he feels it's only fair to share in the moment. He did really start something here after all.

"In my world, Norman Osborn was also known for what he did to my people, and so I tend to have a very... intense dislike for his name. Enough to get testy. Which is of course unfair to you. For this I very much apologize as well."

Harry lets out a shaky exhale, trying to calm himself down before he has a full blown meltdown in the middle of the crowded coffee shop. He's been walking on a knife's edge, emotionally, and his father— and his father's illness— has always been a sensitive subject for him. He forcefully shoves down his anger, letting go of the vice grip on his cup, moving his hand to scratch at the now irritated patch of skin on his neck.

"Yeah. As I was trying to say, our worlds are very different. I can't talk much on what your Norman Osborn did to you, but from what little I've heard about your world from Loki, the two really aren't comparable, beyond having a few key names in common."

Norman Osborn, Spider-Man. Who knows what or who else?

"If it helps to clarify, the name 'Green Goblin' means nothing to me. My father never went by that name."

Money in David's book is that if Green Goblin exists in Harry's world, it's Norman, and the man is a murderer.

"So Spider-Man doesn't have a Goblin in your world? Strange. Who does he have? Vulture? Electro? Shocker? Rhino?"

Yeah, villain names suck.

"No, I suppose it doesn't matter. This illness of your father's, I'm presuming congenital? Serves a greater reason to be so testy, and so interested in biotech focusing on gene-splicing with other species."

"Electro... That's what the press decided to call Max Dillon when he went apeshit in Times Square. Don't know who the rest of those names are, but they sound stupid as hell."

The Shocker is a sex move. What kind of pervert villain names himself after something like that?

"Yeah, it is." He barks a hollow laugh. "It was the last thing he ever gave me."

"Ah, Dillon, yeah, that scans. I was always a bit more partial to Francine Frey, the costume looks better on her. On Dillon the mask looks stupid."

He has no clue that there's no mask.

"Oh yeah, Spidey gets some of the stupidest names. I mean, it's not Doctor Doom, but it's still bad. And at least Doom has the defense that it's literally his last name."

And wow, man, if that's a sex move, he doesn't need to know the names of other horrible super heroes. They're lucky there isn't a 'sixty-niner' at this point. Right now, though, he needs to focus on the disease.

"I know i'm not your physician, but any chance you're willing to tell me what you have?"

"What mask?" Harry doesn't get why Dillon would wear a mask. It's pretty obvious that he's a big blue glowing guy, not sure what the point of hiding that would be.

Also, 'Doctor Doom' is maybe the stupidest name Harry has ever heard.

But whatever. Talking about people with dumb names isn't half as important or interesting as the rest of the conversation.

"It's called Retroviral Hypodysplasia. And it's fatal."

Interesting. David considers the prognosis as far as he knows it, treatment options, and comes to a clear conclusion.

Josh is his best bet. But David won't offer Josh without Josh doing it.

"And you believed that the regenerative properties of certain forms of animal life would be the most useful. How far along in the progress of the disease are you? Clearly you're still at a stage where you're not bedridden."

"That's what we had access to back home. That was my dad's avenue of research. Obviously, there are other options here worth exploring. I've got a few irons in the fire trying to cure it, or at least stop it from getting worse."

One of those irons is Josh, actually. That's what happens when someone advertises their healing powers online.

He glances around, thankful that the cafe is busy enough that no one is paying their table much attention. Satisfied no one besides the man across from him will see, he pulls aside the popped collar of his jacket, showing the deformed patch of greenish, scaly skin.

"That's the biggest issue right now. That, and my hand shakes when I'm stressed."

Lovely. David looks at the area and considers. There might be some relief he can provide, but not much.

"My medical specializations tend to be trauma surgery and neurology. There isn't much I can do by means I can easily manage. For now, I might be able to get you a referral with someone to give you drugs that might help with the shaking."

"That'd be... I'd appreciate that. Thank you."

Display over, he pulls his collar flush against his neck again, back to covering up the problem now that he doesn't need to explain himself.

"And... I'm sorry, for how I snapped earlier. It sucks, that your universe's Norman Osborn did whatever he did to you and... your people? Are you a god, too, like Loki?"

Well, he'll see about getting the guy into whatever practice Josh has set up. Better than hacking on his own.

"I'm not Asgardian or Jotun, if that's what you're asking. No, Earth in my world has three distinct sub-species of humans currently alive. Humans, Inhumans, and Mutants. I'm the latter category."

OPEN | Paint Yourself A New Life

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