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:
[Back2Formula] regular anon * [Pierglass] trolling anon * [LutinVert] Goblin/Alton Mode * [EpigaeaMemoriam] Support Group anon

Comments

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.]

[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. ]

[certaininequities]

Then that's what I'm more sorry to hear. That, and that your only option to support yourself was to work in a place like that.

[he pauses, then gives a soft chuckle of his own]

No wonder you weren't bothered by Emily's lack of tact. Regardless, you won't hurt for options, here. And I'll certainly never ask you to put yourself to any task you aren't comfortable with.

[the elevator gives a soft, pleasant ding, and the doors slide open to reveal a hallway much more like what Katurian may have been envisioning: clean walls and floors, off-white and pale gray with deep green accents at the door jambs and the sills of the windows that look into the sectioned off laboratory spaces. Most of them are pristine with lack of use, but Norman steers them toward the one section with racks of tubes and several tools laid out upon the tables.]

The main laboratory is this way. My adopted son, Peter, has a workspace here, but it's for his own personal use and projects, so you won't need to worry about knowing where that is.