IC Inbox for Ryslig

[certaininequities]

WELCOME TO YOUR PRIVATE CHANNEL, DR_OSBORN.

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<DR_OSBORN> You've reached Dr. Norman Osborn.
<DR_OSBORN> Please leave a message: I'll respond as promptly as possible.

Other Handles:
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Comments

[heyunderoos]

[Peter laughs a little at the full eight armed hugs, just trying to return the hug with the same ferocity and affection.]

Yeah, I did. I just... needed to know.

[goryteller]

[He smiles a little. It's funny, he thinks, trying to shove a city inside of a building. And not much has been funny since his arrival here.]

Ha.

[It's a laugh, or at least an approximation of one.]

But the labs look normal?

[heyunderoos]

I mean... It really does honestly. [Peter has to admit as much too, feeling more and more confused by the minute. He draws back from the microscope to glance back at Norman.] I'm having a hard time really picking out anything that different-?

[certaininequities]

Me, too. ... Ugh, it's the magic again, isn't it?

[Norman reaches up and runs a hand through his hair with a frustrated sigh]

Any time I feel like I'm even remotely close to something, there's some variable that inevitably leads back to magic. It almost makes me wish your friend the magician was here, the one with the Halloween party cape.

[certaininequities]

THey certainly do - or at least, what passed for normal in 2002, in New York. I'm still getting used to having to specify that sort of thing, here.

[he leads Katurian toward the elevators with the easy stride of a man on his home turf]

So, if you don't mind my asking, what did you do for a living where you're from?

[certaininequities]

I can understand that.

[he finally Releases The Son - ha! the SON. he can't stop grinning about that]

So other than completely making my day, what're you up to?

[heyunderoos]

Seems like it.

[Peter wrinkles his snoot a little, whiskers folding briefly back against his face before flicking forward again as he glances at Norman.]

Doctor Strange-? [He has to laugh a little at the description.] Hey, his cape is cool, it was really nice to me when we interacted! Its like alive.

[And that is what he focuses on instantly. Priorities.]

[certaininequities]

All the nicknames in the world to choose from, and this guy decides he's going to call himself "Strange"? You'd think a magician would be a lil' more imaginative.

[says the guy who just rolled over and let Jameson dub him 'the Green Goblin'...]

The cape .. was ... Peter, you mean he was just manipulating it with magic so it seemed friendly, right? Like a puppeteer, with a puppet.

[heyunderoos]

I think that was his real name-? I didn't talk to him a lot honestly. I mean, we were in space together, but that was kind of a stowaway situation. [At this point, he's comfortable enough to admit to Norman he wasn't exactly invited to super hero things.]

No-? It did stuff without him a lot. It seemed a lot friendly too. Um, no offense meant to Doctor Strange anyway.

[certaininequities]

[somehow a live cape is easier to swallow than:]

Peter. Are you telling me .... you stowed away .... to outer space?!

[Norman, have you even met this boy who's died several times already in Ryslig? HAVE YOU?]

[heyunderoos]

Mr. Stark told me to save the wizard! I had to go make sure the aliens didn't like- steal him! [Even years on, his voice pitches up slightly in defensiveness as he fluffs up slightly.]

[certaininequities]

[he huffs a little laugh]

Y'know, it still boggles my mind that you've dealt with actual, honest-to-goodness aliens. I mean, obviously the universe is vast enough that it was bound to happen eventually, I just didn't think it would be in our lifetimes.

< r.gardner > hella backdated oops

[sweartoyou]

Dr. Norman, I would like to propose a partnership of organizations to you.

[Might be writing this up while she's at work so she gets paid for it, since...it is a morgue thing. Might be making it unnecessarily ~professional~ because of that.]

If you're open to discussing a cooperation between us here at the morgue and [god the name is so bad] F.E.A.S.T., kindly get back to me at your earliest convenience.

oh good someone can finally explain that he should really change the name

[certaininequities]

Good afternoon, Miss Gardner. Thank you for taking the time to reach out to me. I'd be more than happy to discuss such a collaboration with you. Would you like me to come and visit you at the morgue, since this is a professional situation? Or would you like to meet elsewhere, maybe a lunch meeting? If the morgue won't expense it, I can certainly use the Oscorp accounts. Just let me know what time and day would be best, and I'll adjust my own schedule to suit.

weeps he's doing his best

[sweartoyou]

As I will regrettably be unable to enjoy the majority of foods with the coming of the next fog, I would be delighted to take you up on your offer of buying me lunch, Doctor.

[Hell yeah, mooching.]

Does noon the day after next sound agreeable? If so, I will look into the locations of pizza parlors suitable for meetings and pass directions onto you.

[Like, at home. Also he will probably be driving her. It's fine.]

[heyunderoos]

Yeah, I didn't think so either, at least until they showed up to like steal a wizard. [sentences that only be said in rare contexts such as this one. Peter is as ever casual about the strangeness of his life as he gestures with his hands as he talks.] I wish I could've actually gone to space to look around at living planets.

Like we ended up on this dead one, and Thanos went on this long rant about the planets history and kind of didn't understand how the economics worked, so he thought killing half a population would solve a problem instead of looking at the structure of why things weren't working.

With the gauntlet and the Infinity Stones he could have cleaned up all pollution everywhere, or made all food sources reproduce at double speed on every planet, or made it so people knew more about supply distribution to make sure things ran smoothly, but he kinda chose to just kill people first.

[heyunderoos]

[Peter releases a soft huff of amusement at that response.]

Making more stuffed animals? I wanted to try more normal ones instead of the flip ones. Figuring all the parts out is a little complex, but I found a library book with patterns.

[goryteller]

[He winces in anticipation of his own answer, stepping into the elevator. ]

I worked at an abattoir. Cleaning up animals. Blood. Other things.

[He doesn't meet Norman's eyes when he says it. ]

I didn't like it, but the people who ran it were willing to look the other way. I was quite young when I started and no one else would hire me.

[He worries with his hands, fidgeting with the zipper on his coat.]

My parents died when I was fourteen.

cw: alcoholism, bad family dynamics

[certaininequities]

[a year in Ryslig has desensitized Norman to some degree, so the word 'abbatoir' doesn't startle him as much as it may have before. the elevator doors slip closed as he pushes the button to take them to the fourth floor, and he folds his hands in front of him as he listens. Norman does note Katurian's discomfort, though, and surmises that if it were the only job available to him, he'd feel very uncomfortable about it, too.

and then ... well, it just gets worse. he's in the middle of a patient, understanding nod when Katurian drops that last bomb, and his eyes widen]

Fourteen-?! That ... oh. Oh my God. Were they ... good to you? Do you miss them?

[he doesn't realize that that isn't exactly the first thing MOST people would say when hearing that a boy lost his parents when he was barely a teen. but given the amount of days and nights he'd wished he'd wake up to find that his own father had finally pushed his liver to the breaking point ... well.]

[certaininequities]

Oh, terrific! ... I do hope you'll still be making the flip ones.

[he pauses, realizing there's something he hadn't told Peter, and that it might dampen the mood]

I had brought the one you made me to my office, so I had something to fidget with while I was thinking. I ... I'm so sorry, Peter, but it got destroyed in the fire.

[certaininequities]

[there is So Much Wrong with this Thanos guy's ideaology that Norman's face just furrows with more and more disgust as Peter talks. the expression he's wearing by the end is just shy of a Goblin Sneer, and he scoffs. there's sympathy for Peter in his voice when he speaks, though, not condemnation of Thanos. the words do enough of that on their own:]

What an asshole. ... Might even give the Fog God a run for her money.

which is a little better than his best used to be, at least....

[certaininequities]

That's perfect, as a matter of fact. I look forward to it.

[and so he'll spend the rest of the afternoon working at McGucket Labs, doodling notes about rebuilding Oscorp in the margins of his Minecraft programming, until it's time to head back to Hill House. once he's there, he'll make his way to Rachel's room and knock on her door]

Excuse me, I'm here to see if Miss Gardner's available for buisness.

[he is very clearly having way too much fun here. someone revoke his Dad License]

[goryteller]

[The question's prescience catches him off guard, and so he laughs, shifting his weight a little as the elevator goes up. ]

No. Not at all.

[It's a little more complicated than that -- sometimes his parents were very good to him, but it's easier to leave that unexplained. ]

[heyunderoos]

Yeah, asshole is about the only thing you can really call him. Without getting into Beck's level of ranting. [Peter muses with a snort, the thought more fond these days than anything else.] Pretty sure he and I have about the same feelings on the people who are like 'Thanos Was Right'.

[He shakes his head a little.] Either way, things are fixed back home now, even if they're not perfect, they can get better.

[sweartoyou]

[He's cringe, but she started it.]

Welcome, Dr. Norman. My secretary will meet you at the door. Molly, go on.

[There's the gentle creak of something light moving off the bed, and when Norman opens the door, he'll be greeted by a puppy-like snail monster that wags its tail once its head stalks wiggle and determine who he is. Rachel is sitting on the floor and reading one of her notebooks.]