ArchivedLogs:Bitter Medicine

Bitter Medicine
Dramatis Personae Iolaus, Micah, Jane
In Absentia	9 November 2014 '
Location <NYC> High Line – Chelsea
Built on a freight rail, the High Line once was a railroad and has been reclaimed as green space in the middle of the city. A park situated high above Manhattan, what was once a rusty industrial wasteland is now a stretch of peaceful space to lounge and relax among grass and flowers and plant life. There are restaurants, ice cream sandwich stands, a beer garden, and the view all along the elevated parkland is unbeatable. Despite the dreary afternoon and the faint mist hanging in the air that has threatened to become rain all day, the Highline is not as empty as it could be. Bundled against the start of winter's chill, people wander along the elevated park, meandering along between the different stands. Most people are congregated nearer to the beer garden than anywhere else, but further down along, a bench has been co-opted by two people, both somber looking. Jane, to her credit, looks much as she always does - watchful, sharp, with a vague expression of being pissed off that seems to come close to her default expression. Iolaus' clothing is certainly the sharper of the two - a charcoal overcoat covering the navy suit underneath, but the sharpness doesn't match the tired lines set into his face as he sips at the take-out coffee in his hands. Jane's watchfulness likely rewards her with spotting Micah's approach long before Io does. Not that he's easy to miss, candy-corn striped scarf and matching convertible mittens standing out brightly against his olive jacket. A likewise olive newsboy cap at least covers most of the auburn hair that would also catch the eye. Faded, rainbow-patchy bluejeans and hiking boots are the only remaining portion of his outfit visible under the cold weather wear. The redhead's pensive expression melts into recognition of the pair, a genuine smile coupled with his wave of greeting as he picks up his pace into a lope to reach them faster. Jane, indeed, spots the colorfully garbed man approaching, and the colors of his outfit give the same sort of look that one imagines she might have worn when walking downrage to defuse a rather aggressive sort of bomb. As Micah gets closer, she jostles the man sitting next to her with an elbow and a quiet murmur. Even through the tiredness, Micah's approach earns a genuine smile from Iolaus. "Micah, thank you for coming. It's good to see you. How has your week been? It seems like it's been months since I've laid eyes on you through anything but emails." He stands up, arms opening to wrap the other man in a tight hug - without spilling coffee over his back, even. "Hi!" This greeting encompasses both Jane and Io, though the return of the tight-squeezing hug is reserved for the doctor alone...likely much to Jane's preference. Micah appears unaware of his narrow escape from a coffee bath. "We don't tend t'circulate the same floors at the Clinic too often, seems like," he agrees. "S'been a... Not other than what I've come t'expect lately." The pause seems like a stop placed in to avoid listing all the Things that have happened in the past week or so, the remainder of the statement heavy and tired. "How've things been treatin' you?" Iolaus takes a seat after the hug, and gestures for the other man to sit down next to him - and not next to Jane. Possibly also to her preference. "These days, it feels like I have been at the clinic less than I've been at other offices, trying to salvage some relationships with our donors." Iolaus' smile becomes a little bit fixed around the edges, and he sighs. "I've been better, Micah, I've been better." He lets out a little dark chuckle and runs a hand through his hair. "The last two weeks has felt like months." Micah does take the offered seat, plunking down close in at Io's side. "I was afraid of that," he replies with a sour face, clearly not glad of the confirmation. "Was tryin' not t'believe anythin' outta the news, but. I took Hive t'his last appointment with Dr. Toure..." His headshake to complete the sentence does not imply happy outcomes. Though he does laugh lightly at the time comment, it is a wry sort of laughter. "That's been goin' 'round, too, I see." "It seems so." Iolaus says, rubbing his forehead with thumb and index finger briefly. "True or not - and I still have some hope, if only some - it's been chaos since the article was published. Donors threatening to pull out, the government stepping in to threaten us with an audit, contacts yelling about betrayal. God, and the people writing in telling us they are so proud of what we are doing, and that they're with us all the way." Iolaus' expression twists towards nausea. "I think that's the worst of it all." "I don't," Micah replies simply on the topic of hope to be had. "Not after talkin' to 'im. S'ridiculously misguided at best 'bout what the police an' Themis are likely t'do. Regurgitatin' the company line 'bout how it was only Leone an' Neve as was knowin' anythin' at Themis... Ain't never even /spoken/ t'Matt 'bout it. Matt's a wreck. Y'know there's been people givin' /him/ hell over this already?" He gives a shiver-shudder, cheeks reddened visibly. A hard swallow precedes his speaking again. "Y'need t'get your legal team t'draw up better documentation regardin' how research done at the Clinic is allowed t'be applied. Ain't likely t'patch the PR problem, but at least it's a start. An' could prevent anythin' like this happenin' again." "It's already a violation of clinic policy." Iolaus says, with a sharp wave of his hand. "It's not IRB approved research, but it involves a human subject." There's a brief pause, and his shoulders slump slightly. "It's a reach, maybe. We're already looking over our regulations again. But this isn't..." Iolaus stops, taking a long, steadying breath, and when he resumes, it's slower, choosing words carefully. "We never anticipated this kind of betrayal. The professional repercussions of being publicly associated with the clinic are so severe, we didn't think we would have to vet /doctors/ this closely. And certainly not /Rasheed/, of all people." "More'n policy. Might be a good idea t'have /contracts/ drawn up for each individual research project. Firm up the lines so there can't be no surprises." Micah's shoulders sag a little. "I know. I didn't wanna b'lieve any of it 'til I heard it out of his own mouth." His hands fidget with his scarf, twisting it and releasing it by turns. "I've got a research proposal that needs a bit of polish 'fore I submit it formally. But if things go well, I'd be willin' pilot a contract process for you. If things go /amazin'/, I'm lookin' t'get some fundin' assistance through Stark. So it'd work as a contract extended t'outside enterprises as're involved, as well. Get a lotta things hammered out in one go." "You're right. I'll try and get it on the schedule for discussion with our attorneys, but..." Iolaus' smile is wry, and he nudges the other man with a shoulder. "For some reason, they seem to be rather busy at the moment." He lifts the coffee and takes a long sip of it, before pulling a face and looking down at it. "Growing up in Boston has ruined me for coffee, I think," he says, shaking his head. "What's your proposal on? Off the record, of course." "I can imagine," Micah's response is equally wry, though the nudge does curl his lips upward a bit. "Favour tea most of the time anymore, m'self. Unless I'm extra sleep deprived an' need the more serious caffeine boost. Fill it up with hazelnut or chocolate flavourin' an' milk an' sugar, though. Makes almost any coffee halfway drinkable." He nods easily at Io's question, implying no worry over records or formality. "Been wantin' t'develop a robotic upper limb replacement that ain't relyin' on typical human anatomical structure as a base form. Finally pushin' forward with it since Flicker's gotten started workin' with prostheses. Y'know Taylor, from the school? He's agreed t'do some motion capture modellin' for it. Maybe some fMRI down the line, we start gettin' fancy. Flicker's agreed to trial what we come up with. I'm hopin' it'll eventually be an option for Horus, too, but...his anatomy is so unique. An' bein' a bilateral amputation complicates the picture a bit, too. So havin' Flicker t'try it first'll be a boon." Iolaus nods along, tilting his head from one side to the other. "That sounds interesting. I wonder if you could pair it with some of the newer neuromuscular work that's being done. If you can get grant funding for it, it wouldn't matter that the price would be astronomical. I'm sure you can spin it as something the military would be interested in for treating soldiers with abnormal trauma or something." Iolaus waves a hand, dismissively. "Sounds like the sort of thing Ra--." His voice stops immediately, cutting off mid-word. He pauses for a second, then picks back up again, with slightly less enthusiasm as before. "Sounds like the sort of thing that I'm sure lots of people would be interested in at the clinic." "Oh, absolutely, that was m'thought. Flicker was lookin' t'go for one of the myoelectric robotic models that's already on the market. Figure he can /still/ do that, an' we can work the interface for /our/ device from there since he'll've already been through the surgical processes an' whatnot." Micah nods repeatedly, head bobbing a bit with the motion. "It'd be the best upper limb on the market. Most of the ones we have now struggle t'reproduce a fraction of typical human function. /These/ would do that an' more. Superhuman arms." His lips tug into a lopsided grin. "I know I been goin' about it a little backwards findin' test subjects an' all /before/ gettin' a proposal approved an' funded. But findin' the right people's honestly likely t'be the hardest part of this deal. There's actually a tentacle-like prosthetic hand out there already, but it's fallen flat 'cause patients don't want it. S'too weird an' nobody's actually /usin'/ anythin' like it yet. I figure...with /our/ patient population, lookin' 'normal' might be less of a concern. Get things started there." Micah's grin pulls into more of a smirk. "'sides, robots are sexy. S'the kinda research even laymen can dig into, if y'give 'em a good video. Looks cool. Usually helps out folks like athletes an' soldiers that have a positive image in the popular psyche. An' with me an' B both havin' a good workin' relationship over at Stark already, figure it gives more'n even odds that I might get some support on this." His mittened hand pats at Io's knee. "Also? It could be some /good/ PR for the Clinic." Iolaus flicks a look up and down at Micah and gives him a wink, smile bursting across his face and shoulder jostling into the other man gently. "Robots are sexy, huh?" Twin peaks of color flush lightly on his cheeks and he laughs, a warm sound that temporarily washes his face from the tiredness that had soaked into it. "Stark is one of the few allies that we have that hasn't backed away from us, probably because of that relationship. Or because their hands have worse dirt on them and it doesn't even register - it is a defense company, after all." The doctor shrugs his shoulders, and his smile retreats, but doesn't disappear altogether. "It could be, and selfishly, I'd like to help both of us at once. But, Micah... it might be better for you applying for government grants if we weren't a sponsoring institution. I can't imagine anything with our clinic's name sailing through. I doubt they'd give me a grant to study the Rising, and I won a fucking Nobel for it." Somewhere in the looks, winks, and blushing, Micah's cheeks pick up their own layer of colour...and then some, red creeping up his neck and into the tips of his ears. "Darn right. Pick up any sci-fi book or movie at random, then tell me I'm wrong." He squirms just a little in his seat. "Honestly, I'd like t'leave the government out of it s'much as possible. Ain't got a lotta love lost there anymore. If I can get this off the ground with private fundin'? So much the better." His teeth meet with his lower lip, pressing in for a moment. "Don't know how much I /or/ the people with special abilities involved'd like t'be workin' with another medical agency, neither. Even /with/ the egg on your face from this thing with Dr. Toure. Ain't nobody else proved more trustworthy. Or sensitive. Or...willin', even." Iolaus laughs at that last, at least. "Well, it's like I tell my donors. The Mendel Clinic is the /finest/ medical clinic for mutants in the world." He says, eyes dancing with humor. "I don't mention that we're the /only/ one until after they've given me the check." He shakes his head, wryly, stretching out his legs one at a time and taking another sip from his coffee-cream-catastrophe. "In all honesty, there's serious consideration of extending the research freeze at the clinic if we can't get a handle on the situation. But, I hope very much that it won't come to that." "It does do wonders t'provide a unique service," Micah agrees with his own chuff of laughter. "Certainly hope it don't come t'that. S'the other side of the unique service coin...we don't know what t'/do/ for these folks without blazin' that trail on their behalf, most of the time. Just wouldn't be able t'do half our jobs without research ongoin'. We'll see. Walk through the door with a gorgeous proposal an' an even prettier check t'go with it? Could change a lotta tunes. We're due some good news, soon as karma gets off its lunch break." "From your lips to God's ears," Iolaus says, raising his right hand for a brief moment as if in salute. "The clinic was never intended to be a research clinic, but I knew we'd have to have to do it if we were going to have a clinical department at all. I was right, though, I admit, not in the ways I thought I would." Iolaus shakes his head, sniffing once. "Then again, I have no idea how we have managed to come as far as we have." A brief pause, and he looks once to Jane, then back over to Micah. "Good friends, I think." “Well, 'tween the lot of us, pretty sure we can get a fair number of gods' ears listenin' in,” Micah only half-teases, amusement lighting his hazel eyes to a brighter near-green. “Keeps us on our toes, at the very least.” He nods agreement with this last. “Good friends, good allies, good connections... Winnin' smile an' a warm handshake don't hurt the situation, I find.” "Not going to disagree with you, though recent events have made me wary of warm smiles and handshakes for fear of the knives that they may hide behind their backs." Iolaus counters, gently. "Good friends, good allies, and the rest be damned." Iolaus considers this for a moment then takes a long sip of his coffee, draining the cardboard cup with a long swallow and tossing it in the direction of the trashcan. He manages to get it on the top, at least, if not in the hole, and the doctor grimaces. “Well, yes. But I was talkin' 'bout /yours/ just then. Unless you're fightin' more inner daemons than I'd care t'imagine.” Micah is refusing to relinquish his smile just now. There's something to be fought for still, the rest of this /week/ be damned. “See, that's what happens when y'rely on simple human anatomy t'pitch your bad coffee cups,” he teases again, smile only broader and more lopsided than before. "There's certainly been times in the lab that I wished I had more than these two hands," Iolaus says, raising them demonstratively. "If only a third wouldn't make me even /more/ useless at getting donors for the clinic, I might sign up to be one of your test subjects myself, Micah." Iolaus' smile is quick but genuine, and he drops one of his hands to pat Micah's thigh. "Just workin' on the replacement for now, but who knows? Future endeavours might turn into /extra/ limbs." Micah eyes Io appraisingly, ostensibly for how he'd suit some additional arms. A small bounce of his eyebrows is likely not /required/ for that particular appraisal, but there it is. "Seems t'work well enough for Taylor. Sure could be helpful for things like surgery. Or havin' kids." His cheeks colour a little further at the pat, though the red has to share the space with a broad grin. "I can imagine that it could have lots of uses," Iolaus says with a laugh. "But that's not something I want to think about in the same sentence as Taylor." His voice is teasing, lips quirked into a smile. He glances down at his watch and then up to the sky. "I've got another meeting that I need to leave for in a couple of minutes. We should do dinner together, sometime when Jax is working. Easier for scheduling when I know where he'll be." The tease has the desired effect, if the desired effects was more blushing. Not that it's a difficult task where Micah is involved. “Hopefully it'll be a /good/ meetin'. An' I never object t'some /certain/ time with m'husband. He can be hard t'pin down sometimes. Also wouldn't object t'more /outside/ the office time with you. S'always a pleasure.” "We can only hope, Micah. Still, this phone call was rather less strident than most, so I think I will escape with most of my flesh still intact." Iolaus says, hands spreading out in a careless shrug. "I'll see when our schedules all match, then, and send something out. Hopefully it will be sooner than later, if only to break up these dark weeks with some enjoyment." “Well, here's hoping for...intact flesh, then,” Micah offers by way of well-wishes, gathering himself to stand and offering Io a hand to do the same. “Could all use some good company an' good food. /Certainly/ some honest enjoyment of things.” Iolaus takes Micah's hand as he stands, Jane rising next to him like a fun-house mirrored shadow. "I'm looking forward to it, Micah. I hope that your day is less... volatile than mine is shaping up to be." He grins, squeezes Micah's hand, then releases it. "Until the next time, my friend." Iolaus nods, once, then turns to head in the direction of the exit. “At least for today, maybe. Thanks for the talk. It was...helpful.” Micah's hand returns the squeeze in parting. “Good luck to you.”