Summary:Lydia brings Kamala to meet with Doctor McCoy to find out what she is. Tests are run, histories are shared! Log Info:Storyteller: None |
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Having been approached by Lydia to meet with her friend, Hank booked some time at the university labs at Columbia, he has connections there. Indeed, he gets discounted rates due to speaking there frequently, so it is an easy thing for him to arrange and to afford. Once the arrangements are made he seeks Lydia out at the school. "I am booking some lab time in the city, when would be good for you to bring your friend by?" Whatever time she states, Hank arranges his lab time for, and so on the appointed day and time the two girls would know where to meet.
For his own part Hank's presently in a simple suit, sans the jacket (hanging up by the door), and a lab coat as he works on some other project as he waits. He's been here a while, not like he lacks for things to work on!
Lydia picked up Kamala at her house so they could zoom over to Hank's secondary lab on her Vespa. "You're going to like him," she shouts over the noise of traffic as they zip along. "He's funny and smart, and he really helped me with my powers."
Once they arrive, Lydia leads her friend through the maze of corridors until she comes to a specific door. She checks the number written on a slip of paper against the number on the door, and after verifying that she's got the right place, she knocks on the door. "Dr. McCoy? It's Lydia. I brought my friend," she calls out.
Having gotten a ride on the Vespa, Kamala has stuck close to Lydia since their arrival. However, once they reach the office, the young woman seems to be finally coming a little out of her shell as she draws in her breath. "About time to find out what little girls are made of, huh?" she asks Lydia gamely.
Then they enter the office, and she pauses as she waits for Lydia to make the introductions, standing slightly behind Lydia and her hands clasped together in front of her.
When Lydia calls out, Hank heads to the door, opening it and pushing his reading glasses up a bit. "Ah, hello Miss Dietrich, welcome." He smiles to Kamala. "Please, both of you, come in and we'll get things going." Once they enter, he offers a hand to Kamala. "Doctor Henry McCoy, but please, call me Hank." A grin at Lydia. "And that goes for you as well, Miss Dietrich."
Poor Kamala might find the man's sheer bulk intimidating, he's nearly six feet tall and over a yard wide, all of it muscle. Four hundred pounds a bit a bit, very solid build though is limbs are a bit disproportionate - his arms rather long, the forearms and his lower legs large, his feet and hands about twice what would be normal, and when he grinned there were small fangs visible.
That said - his smile is genuinely kind, bright blue eyes very warm and friendly. "So…Lydia tells me that you've got powers, and are unsure of their origin and nature, is that right, miss?"
"Hi Dr. McCoy!" Lydia calls out before being corrected. "Hank." That just doesn't feel right. The man was her doctor at one point in time. Well, one of her doctors. Her mother wouldn't rest until she could find a doctor who told her they could reverse her powers. She never did find one, though.
"Dr…. Hank, this is Kamala," she says introducing the two. "Kamala, Dr. Hank McCoy."
It takes a couple of moments. Because Kamala is in awe. Her eyes are wide and she's clutching her sweater. She'd be clutching her pearls, really, if she wore them. But it's not fear that's on the young woman's face as she she almost runs to Hank to offer her hands. "You're Doctor Henry McCoy! Mutations and genetics is like.. peanut butter and honey for you!" she says excitedly, bouncing on the balls of her feet and turns to Lydia. "You didn't tell me you knew Doctor Henry McCoy. Oh my gosh, oh my gosh.. uh, wait…"
"…shouldn't you be blue? And furry? I thought you were blue and furry. Did I miss something? Or are you like a werewolf?"
She blinks a couple of times. "If you bit someone, would they be a werewolf? I mean, not that I want blue fur, I have enough trouble with razors!"
Sensing Lydia's unease, he gently rests a hand very briefly on her shoulder. "You can use Doctor if you'd rather, Lydia." He's not insensitive by any means. Just because he prefers Hank, doesn't mean he'll insist on it. After all, he did work rather hard to get his various doctorates! The thing is he wants people to feel comfortable around him, so, either is fine really.
"Kamala? Lovely name, Sanskrit for 'lotus' or 'pale read', also another name for the Hindu goddess Lakshmi." He grins then, and is about to go on when his hand is seized and the girl fairly gushes.
A warm laugh. "I was blue, yes. I was furry, yes. You couldn't have missed as we didn't know each other yet. I am not a lycanthrope. My bite is not infectious. Your razors are safe."
Lydia laughs lightly at Hank's jest, "He got better." She walks around the room until she finds a nice comfortable seat to watch.
"I mean. Did you? Did you like being blue? Did you want to be blue?" comes Kamala's questions. Isn't she supposed to be the one getting checked out here? There's questions. She needs answers. And then as she sees Lydia taking a seat, she tilts her head, coming over to where the other girl sits. "Thank you so much for doing this." comes the quiet offer as she leans over to give Lydia a warm if tingly hug as she moves to settle in the chair next to Lydia's. "So. What do you need to know?"
"Actually I made a serum to regress the more overt physical changes, my initially 'furry' state was induced by an experimental serum when I was just out of school to be honest." Precision is important! A wink and a grin to Lydia. "In short, yes, I got better. I wasn't even a newt."
He looks thoughtful. "I got /used/ to being blue, but I would say I prefer my own face, and less hair. My morning ablutions used to take an hour." He smiles when he sees the friends interact, and then he nods. "Well, first off, have a seat on the exam table. Tell me how you learned you had powers, that's a good start. If you'll permit, I'd like to take some tissue samples, and run a couple of blood panels on you, so I can get an idea as to what is going on with your genetic structure…but only if you permit, Kamala."
"It must have taken you three hours to dry all that fur after a shower," japes Lydia. She returns Kamala's warm hugs with one of her own. Well. As warm as her hugs ever get.
Kamala looks over at Lydia. It takes her a few moments, but she finally decides, after reaching over to give Lydia's hand a squeeze - mainly for herself than for Lydia. "Is this gonna be recorded or anything? My parents don't know yet." she admits quietly, glancing down in thought and looking at her hands. "They don't even know that I snuck out that night." Letting out her breath, she looks back to Hank, her dark eyes showing that moment of fear. "I'm not ready to tell them yet."
"No, only about half an hour, I equipped my shower with directional driers, the problem was then grooming all that fur." And Hank is and was meticulous about grooming. Very fastidious is the Doctor McCoy.
"I do normally record sessions, yes. I can skip that if you'd rather." His brow furrows faintly as she mentions her parents, but…that's a common tale at the school too. "Well…you're a legal adult, I can't tell you what to say or do, that said, I think you might wish to address this with them at some point." He nods as she lets out that breath, and makes her decision known. "Of course. SO…can you tell me how and when you came to be aware you had powers? And do you want me to record this? And may I take the samples and draw blood?"
He's not being pushy but he is VERY very -very- keen on ethics. VERY important.
"No, no, it's okay.. and I know. And maybe someday…" Kamala has a lot to think on when it comes to whether or not she's going to share things. A lot of things. As she waits for Hank to set up, she nods her head. "Okay. Samples. Sure. That's fine." comes the easy agreement. "Since it seems that's the best way to start, besides someone telling me that I come from a race of ninja alien assassin strippers."
True story. At least Priscilla's.
"Okay. Where to begin. As Lydia may have told you, we're pretty sure I'm not a mutant. Unless puberty came really late. And I don't think that's how it worked at all." Sighing, she reaches up to push a hand into her dark hair and blows out a breath. "So where to begin. I'm a minority back home. There's a lot of muslims, but not many Pakistani muslims. That's my parents." she explains. "They're.. pretty strict. You know, will marry who they tell me to marry, will do what I can in school and eventually give it all up for a bunch of babies." she rolls her eyes. "I just wanted to be a teenager. And fit in. I'm a little bit well.. non-traditional?" She's a nerd. Flat out.
"But I got invited to this party. And while I was there, someone gave me a drink. But it was alcohol. Very haram." she explains. "And then they started laughing at me. So I ran away. And while I was trying to recover.. there was this like.. fog from the harbor? Except when I breathed it in.. I felt weird. And then.. I sorta passed out."
Hank holds Kamala's gaze a moment, and then he nods approvingly. "Good. Unspoken truths can lead to problems in my experience." Not that he's all the much older than Kamala at /23/. He preps the table, and dons some nitrile gloves. He helps the young lady up onto the exam table with a gracious hand, and then starts very carefully taking her vitals and noting them down on a pad next to her on the table. "So…strict muslim upbringing, but you're a bit of a rebel." He observes. "So…they tried to get you drunk, laughed at you, and then when you ran outside you inhaled a strange fog and passed out."
Hank is very very smooth in taking the samples, clearly he's practiced. They don't even hurt!
"And when you woke?"
Lydia sits in her chair, quietly, listening to Kamala's story. This is the first that she's heard about it in detail. Previously, Kamala had just kind of glossed over it, and Lydia never pried.
"Yeah." Kamala explains. "I sorta.. zoned out? Passed out? I don't know. But I was in this weird coccoon. And when I came out.." she blushes. "Well. My whole life, I wanted to be Captain Marvel. Ms. Marvel. And I was. Blonde hair. Long legs.. pinchy boots, and a wedgie." Her cheeks are dark in color at that. "Not my finest moment. But then my limbs got all wobbly and wibbly.. and…"
She doesn't object too much to the tests and giggles. "Yep, that's me. A terrible rebel. I won't even eat pork." She gives a laugh. "Even if it smells delicious." Ah, forbidden fruits. "Anyway. That's how I found out I was.. well.." She stretches out her limbs and wobbles them like the whacky inflatable noodle guy outside of car dealerships all over the tri-borrough area.
Hank smiles over to Lydia as she listens so intently and politely.
He keeps working on acquiring the various samples, and draws about a half dozen vials of blood into prepped vacuum tubes with various compounds at the bottoms. Each one carefully labeled before he wipes the site he drew from with a sterile pad, then places cotton on it. "Hold that in place a few moments, please." He then gets a bandaid to put over it, and smiles. "Okay, so…a cocoon, and then you woke up as Captain Marvel." A nod. "Only not." He doesn't comment on the wedgie, nope, nope, nope.
"I don't suppose you have a sample of it?" Because, that would be REALLY helpful. He smiles when he sees the spaghetti arms, looking for permission before testing their flexibility with massive hands and a very gentle touch.
Lydia giggles at the mention of the wedgie, and the arm noodling, when something occurs to her. "You don't mind that I'm here, right, Kamala?" Just want to be sure.
"Why would I have an issue with you being here?" Kamala blinks owlishly at Lydia in confusion. "I mean…" She shakes her head vehemthley at the thought. "Yes, please. Stay." And when Hank starts to test her arm, it feels normal at first, and then she /ohs/. "Right!" she giggles.
And then she lets the arm go lax. It sorta is there. There's bone. Skin. Muscle. Blood. But it's a lot like handling a stress ball. It's all loose and easily pliable. "I can make it flat, too!"
Having filled up the little caddy with vacuum tubes and other samples, Hank watches as Lydia and Kamala agree to Lydia's remaining. A chuckle as she realizes he wants to test her elasticity. "Does it hurt at all when we stretch your skin?" He asks before he tries, and then he smiles with wonder at the flexibility.
"How far can you stretch? If you bulk up do you get stronger or does your mass attenuate and your strength diminish?" He looks positively fascinated. "If your strength increases or fails to diminish I wonder if you draw mass from elsewhere…"
Lydia glances between Hank and Kamala as the questions come, making sure that her friend isn't getting overwhelmed by them.
"It hurts if you pinch it?" Kamala asks. She is feeling a little overwhelmed, but trying to put up a brave front. She knows that Lydia did a lot to make this happen. "I dont have a sample of the coccoon.. it sorta.. melted. It was gross." she admits with a shake of her head. "I don't know how far I can stretch. I mean, I can get as tall as a building and throw a car?" she frowns a little and fidgets.
"I've only had myself to train. I don't like.. have a team." Or friends. That do this stuff. She closes her eyes in thought. "There's not many of us out in Jersey, you know." she giggles. "It's easy to be the hero of Jersey City.. when you're the only hero there."
Realizing his zeal is getting the better of him, Hank shakes his head ruefully. "Forgive me, Kamala. I am…inquisitive by nature. I apologize if I have made you at all uncomfortable." He really is genuinely contrite, and just as clearly fascinated by the challenge. "So…no sample of the cocoon, which was gross and melted."
Thoughtfully, Hank nods. "I can only infer that the fog must have contained some sort of mutagenic substance, and that triggered your powers." He taps teh caddy of samples. "It will take me a few days to run all the tests I planned on, I wonder if we might exchange contact numbers, that way you can follow up with me should you need anything." A faux-stern look. "Naturally, please don't give out my info, mm? And I rather like Jersey City, nice and quiet."
Oh no. Hank is going to give Kamala his number. Lydia figures her friend is going to explode in excitement any minute now.
"Oh. Your number? Okay, sure!" Kamala is about trembling in excitement at the offer of the number. But she's going to keep her cool. She's going to keep her cool..
Then she opens up her messenger bag and takes out a little leather bound book. "…can I ah.. have your autograph?"
Okay. Small squee.
Hank swaps numbers with the girl, also adds his email address just in case. "My autograph? Interesting." Not like there's a lot of people who want the autograph of a scientist these days, he's more than a bit flattered. A firm nod, then he takes a fountain pen from his pocket, and signs the book:
To Kamala with hope and faith,
Best wishes,
Doctor Henry P. McCoy
And then under the written name he signs with a flourish, his penmanship exquisite, and the ink a deep blue-black.
Yup. There's the autograph book. Lydia's seen it come out once or twice already, and always seems to pick up some residual joy from Kamala's enthusiasm. Since it looks like they're mostly done, now, she stands up and gets ready to depart. "Is there anything else we should do in the meantime?"
Blowing on the signature a couple of times, Kamala closes up the book and hugs it to her chest with glee. She's more than happy to have the autograph. She collects them, after all. "Thank you, Doctor McCoy!" she offers cheerfully. Then Lydia asks the question as she puts the book away and she looks back to the stout scientist to see what else that might need to be done, but she does give her friend a little shoulderbump. "Want to go out to eat?"
Hank caps his pen, tucking the metallic thing away again, and smiles to Lydia. "Nothing to be done on your end until I finish my tests and analysis, though I might reach out if I need more samples or have any important questions. Is that allright?" He is still more than a little flattered at the autograph, that's the first time he's had someone asked for one. It is quite a nice feeling.
"Absolutely my pleasure, Kamala. Thank you for the opportunity to assist." Because: SCIENCE! Hank's one true faith - SCIENCE!
"Sure!" answers Lydia. "I'd love to go and grab some lunch." She turns to Hank and says, "Thank you very much for your help, Dr. McCoy. It means a lot to us."
Kamala nods her head in feverent agreement. "It does. Thank you so much.. if there's anything I can ever do." She offers a friendly smile, but then is slipping in next to Lydia so they can head off. "Thanks again, Doctor!"