Paging Dr. Stark

May 01, 2017:

Takes place immediately after A Visitor's Revelation. Trish seeks Tony's help, at Azalea's request, with her new, not so little problem.

Stark Towers

Characters

NPCs: None.

Mentions: Azalea Kingston, Jessica Jones, Emma Frost, Cindy Moon,

Mood Music: [*\# None.]


Fade In…

Trish got on the elevator with a wave to Az, asked Jarvis to take her up to see Tony, and promptly ceases paying attention to where she was going. She concentrates on fixing her appearance instead. The half ponytail is taken down and twisted up into a bun, and then she digs her powder compact out of her purse to fix up her face. The results are less than favorable, but better than what Azalea had been given.

Her mind races, busy with trying to figure out exactly what it was she should tell Tony. It was complicated, like ridiculously so, and involved a lot of private information that she wasn’t sure she wanted to share. For instance, the fact that it was Jessica’s medical records that led her to Dr. Kelt in the first place. Or the fact that she had Az steal the files from her mom. Before she thinks herself into a complete migraine, she tries to distract herself with trying to guess what Az would sing her to sleep with later.

The doors open and she pokes her head out, looking both ways, before cautiously exiting. Just in case, because you never know what you could find in Stark Towers. Her purse is tucked tightly to her side she has a white knuckle grip on the strap with both hands. Not matter what was said in the basement, she was not sure she was going to be able to get through the whole needle process without Jessica. It worked so well, because she knew she could squeeze her sister’s hand as hard as possible without worry. As she starts to feel her eyes water and her throat constrict in a gag, she forces herself to think about something else, anything else, before terrible things happen.

“Hello? Anybody home?” She takes a couple steps away from the elevator, not sure where to go, and unwilling to snoop because, again, you never know what you might find. And she was not sure her heart could take any more ridiculously crazy surprises.

As she exits the door she might just hear something moving off to her left. What it looks like is some kind of robotic arm on a tracked platform. It’s wheeling towards her though! It might be dangerous! In its single manipulator arm it has something clutched tight, it could be a weapon!

…not really.

It’s just a pitcher of iced tea.

The odd bot rolls up towards her, thrusting the pitcher out as an offering. Then…

"Butterfingers! Stop menacing guests unless I want them menaced!" The voice of Tony Stark himself cuts into the moment from deep into the room. Around one table piled with various bits and bobs of /science/ the inventor peers out with narrowed eyes.

…one eye still covered by a faint ring of a black eye.

Its fine though. Fine.

"Trish! JARVIS said you wanted to talk? Is this about more stuff for Az down there? I mean I know it’s not the best space of things to deal with but it’s what I got right now."

Trish’s eyebrows go up as she takes in the advancing robot with the pitcher of ice tea. Her lips quirk up in a grin as the robot’s name is revealed. Her eyes travel past to find Tony at the table with his thingamabobs. And the grin fades as her mouth drops open when she catches the black eye. It closes as she clears her throat and steps forward past Butterfingers.

“No one better lay a finger on you, huh? No thank you, I’m not thirsty.”

Her cheeks color a little as Tony asks if it’s the space she’s there about. Maybe she hadn’t hid her dismay at the room as well as she had thought. Oh well. Bigger fish to fry this round.

“No, that’s not it. I’ve got that handled, no worries, and thank you for offering it in the first place. It’s kind of you and I appreciate you helping us out. It’s, ah, something else that brings me up here. Sort of a favor if you will, even though I’m sure I’m maxed out on those. I, ah, ahem, need some scientific advice, and I thought you maybe could help. I took some crazy drugs and some of the side effects aren’t going away and I don’t think this is something I can take to a regular doctor.”

She pulls the pages out of her purse, containing the information from Dr. Kelt’s place and holds them out for Tony. The information there reveals that the drugs were created from blood and tissue samples taken from enhanced individuals, like Jessica, to create drugs that would temporarily give people different abilities. Such as mind control pheromones, gills, and telekinesis. CGI had rushed into human testing, with less than favorable results, as a lot oftest subjects died from the unstable viruses. And a few pages with various formulas and notations on them that Trish had not understood, beyond recognizing they were chemical equations from her High School days.

“Um, I don’t know how well equipped you are with medical type staff and such, but if you happen to have someone, I’d certainly appreciate a consult.” Her eyes are tired, and her voice is resigned. Hearing it out loud, again, starts the inner argument with herself, because how stupid does one have to be to do something like that. Never mind the fact she wouldn’t have gotten away without it, it was still a really dumb thing to do. Jess was going to kill her.

Butterfinger looks confused, rolling back and forth a moment before slowly and dejectedly lowering the pitcher. Which is a bad choice as tea sloshes out over the lab floor and the bot hurriedly rights its arm as a second one comes rolling up with a mop in hand.

Tony just sighs. Like he's dealing with a pair of dogs.

"Dummy help Butterfingers clear that up." He adds as he grabs a nearby cloth to wipe the grease and grime off his hands. He's been working it looks like.

Waving off the thanks he accepts the papers easily enough as he begins to leaf though them. As he does his eyebrows slowly climb to meet his salt and pepper hairline. Eyes flick up to glance towards Trish then. Then back at the paper. Then back to Trish.

Finally he just tosses the papers on the nearby table and crosses his arms over his chest. His finger beats a tune on his elbow as he regards her. "Right. So what did they do to you?" A beatpause. "You don't come to me just cause there is some kind of odd medical side effect. Do you have gills? Mind Control? Flight? Come on spill."

"We can talk about where you were getting some kind of limited edition pills later and then I can go punch some people at CGI for doing science they obviously have no idea how to do."

Trish can’t help a little laugh at the look on Tony’s face. It really wasn’t funny, at all, but her philosophy in life is ‘When your choices are laugh or cry, you better laugh, otherwise you’ll ruin your mascara’. She presses her fingers to her lips to forestall a bout of hysterical giggles. When she’s confident she can speak coherently, she removes her hand, and tucks her hands in the back pocket of her jeans.

“Not any more, not any more, not that I know of, and telekinesis which won’t go away. And is ridiculously hard to control, much to my current roommate’s distress. I don’t think Cindy likes dodging shit flying at her randomly, not that I blame her. I did get a rash on my neck where the gills were after they faded, my throat was really sore for about a day, and I have a headache that varies in intensity and also will not go away.” Her lips quirk up for a moment. “Do I need to stick out my tongue and say ah?”

The more time she had to decide exactly how much she was going to tell about how she ended up at Miriam’s the better as far as she was concerned. Even if it involved those hand held instruments of terror.

"…wait it actually /worked/…" Tony sounds even more incredulous at that before he shakes his head. "Wonders never cease…right then. JARVIS!" He calls out to thin air as he beckons Trish further into the lab.

Gesturing to a spinny office chair that looks actually pretty comfy the mechanic himself hops up to sit on a table. Mostly cause he likes being high.

"Yes, sir?" JARVIS' voice comes seconds after Stark's call.

"Gimme a full medical sensor sweep on Trish here. Make sure everything is working properly and nothing is out of order." As he speaks a pair of holoscreens spring into existence next to Stark as he starts to type things in, manipulate readings as he turns to watch Trish.

"Don't worry. Don't have to do any of that, but I won't say no if you feel like it. I might take a picture of it and tag you on Facebook though."

Trish sits down in the offered chair, trying to not let the fact that her knees and hands have already started to shake. She opens her mouth to do the ‘ah’ thing until he mentions Facebook. Her hands fly up to cover her face as she yelps, with the unfortunate side effect of causing all loose papers to fly up and the domahickeys on the table to roll away from her. Her face flushes and she drops her hands to her lap, giving Tony a sheepish look.

“No, please. No pictures. Not right now. Maybe next time though. Ah, sorry about the mess. I didn’t mean to.”

The medical scans will reveal that one of the three viruses was a close match to her own DNA, which caused her latent abilities to activate. Her brain activity is certainly not falling into the normal realms, as more synapses are firing than that of the average person, and there isn’t any hidden damage.

“And yes, they actually worked. Last week I would have gleefully taken any kind of ‘powers’”, her hands lift carefully to make air quotes. “This week, I don’t think they’re so fun.”

"The whole place is usually a mess, what’s a bit more on the floor." The billionaire calls as he concentrates on the scans. They aren’t painful, just beams of light that seem projected from the ceiling to run across her body. A quirk of an eyebrow as he looks at the results before he blows out a long sigh.

"Well, I have good news and…well I'm not sure it’s bad or not but…other. Let’s call it other news." He adds with a nod as he looks back towards her. "No damage. You're going to be perfectly fine, and no lasting side effects. The sore throat should clear up on its own soon enough." He reaches up to spin one of the holoscreens and send it sliding towards her so she can read as he leans back and braces himself up with his arms.

"Notice I said 'fine' and not 'normal'. You apparently were a latent. So congratulations. You're now psychic. Telekinetic at least, telepathic possibly. Not quite my field of study but…congratulations?"

He leans forwards again, elbows against knees as he fixes her with a questioning glace. "So. Now you get to tell me where you got your hands on three experimental drugs."

Trish heaves a huge sigh of relief at the news of no lasting damage. It was good to know she wasn’t about to die suddenly. /Not a drama queen, not at all/ she thought sarcastically to herself. The news that she was a latent, as Tony put it, shocked her to the core. Her mouth opened and closed a few times and her eyebrows go up and down. It was probably rather amusing to watch, though she wouldn’t have agreed by any stretch. After a couple of head shakes, she shrugs her shoulders, and finally manages a small “huh”.

And now it’s time to talk about acquiring the stuff. It’s not something that she really wants to relive again so soon, but a deal is a deal. He told her she’s not going to die from them right away, the least she can do is tell him where she got them after all.

“I found some information about extensive testing being done on someone without their consent and thought it was odd, so I went to see the doctor who did them. She was an old friend of my mom’s and started to open up to me about the whole deal when she was killed. I hid in her office, where I found the stuff, and in a desperate act of survival, I took them hoping I’d not die. By hitman, or drugs. At least with the drugs I stood a chance from what I understood of the notes. Thanks by the way. I’m not sure that congratulations are actually in order here, but thanks anyway.”

She leans forward, elbows braced on her knees, and buries her head in her hands. She lets out a muffled groan, bordering on a sob.

“Jessica is going to kill me. Actually, literally, with spiteful glee, kill me.”

Somewhere Tony has acquired a large sports bottle full of something or other that he's drinking normally. Typing at a holoscreen. His eyes switch back towards Trish though and he quirks a brow up. "…just. Random hitman showed up. At…right. Lemme guess. You haven’t told Jess any of this yet."

Of course she hasn't.

"Right well…JARVIS. Track down what info you can on this stuff and we'll see what we can unravel." He calls towards his ever helpful digital partner in crime. "And she's not going to kill you."

He types some more. Takes a sip of his drink.

"She's taking it pretty well all things considered. But really, she's a detective. Did you really put three 'it's all fine here' in an email to her? That’s seriously a red flag."

‘She’s taking it pretty well…’

Meanwhile, on the phone:

Tony: 'Hey! Jess! …I know your busy and all. But…quick question here. Your family doesn't happen to have a history of latent psychic activity do they?'

The answer is a moment in coming.

Jess: My whole blood family is dead…why?

Tony: Weeeeel it’s about Trish. She's fine. Just fine. But she's a…well she's psychic now. Congratulations?

Long pause.

Jess: Please. Please tell me you're joking.

Tony: Nope! And a few files are transferred. Here are some brain scans I took. If you have anyone there that can understand neuropatterns they can tell you. Telekinetic at least. Telepathic maybe.

A REALLY long pause this time. Really, really, really long. The phone says the message has been delivered, and there's the three little dots going on like she keeps writing, and then deleting what she's going to say. Finally:

Jess: I should have known she was lying her face off when she put THREE 'it's all fine here' notes in the email. Is she going to be okay? Is she in any active danger? Is she stable?

Of all the things she did not want to hear, that was at the top of the list. Her hands drop and she stares up at Tony, completely at a loss, incredulous distress painted all over her face.

WHAT?!?!? You TOLD her? Why would you do that?”

She stands up and starts pacing, one hand on her hip, and the other pressed to her forehead to hopefully keep her brain from exploding. Panic, far greater than that for the needles, starts to rise. Which makes her babble.

“So what if I did? It was, then. God damn it, god damn it. I mean, it’s not like I could just send an email, she’s busy. Doing stuff, in Germany, for chrissake.” She stops pacing and levels a finger at Tony. The side that she tries to keep buried is starting to claw its way out under the stress of worrying about everything. “Besides, I’m a big girl, I can do stuff on my own without Jess’s permission, don’t you think for a minute I can’t. And Jess needs to remember that I’m actually older that she is. And she is not the boss of me.”

Annoyance at being afraid of getting in trouble from Jessica has her getting a little snarpy and defensive. Not the classiest of moves, which is why she usually does her best to keep it buried. The one upside is that nothing has gone flying or exploded with this little outburst of temper. When she looks back on it that will go in the win column for sure.

"Cause you were gonna take a while to do it and she needs to know in pieces," Tony replies as he continues to type even as Trish throws a bit of a tantrum of her own. He just sips on his drink and flicks his eyes back to the screen.

"See. If she knows everything now. Hitman. Weird drugs. Nearly getting killed. She'll start yelling right off the bat. You give her a bit at a time and she has time to get used to everything." His own strange logic way. "She says she's worried about you and that she's…you know what I'm totally not gonna read that whole thing you can read it later." A beatpause. "She is glad you’re safe and says you can go ahead and replace your phone now? You don't have a phone. I can fix that."

Meanwhile, on the phone:

Tony: Calm down. She's fine. No lasting effects. She's here at the Tower in my lab. Perfectly stable, I had JARVIS do a full medical workup and she's stable.
…well…she's worried you're going to kill her but beyond that stable…
I'm pretty sure that’s a normal sibling thing right?

Jess: I'm calm. What makes you think I'm not calm? Was my response not perfectly rational and reasonable? Am I not the picture of god damn calm?

Pause, beat.

Jess: I'm sorry, I'm not angry at you. You've been nothing but helpful, nothing but amazing as I drag you into my family troubles.

Tony: Have you thrown the phone yet? Dunce can catch it. It'll be fine.

Jess: No, not yet. Had a moment but it's a really fantastic phone and I rely on it now.

Tony: Good my corruption spreads. Anyway its fine. And she's fine. But she was sitting here agonizing over how to tell you so I just told you.

Trish stops pacing and stand there with her head tilted to the side as she processes that little bit of logic. It actually kind of makes sense, in a very weird kind of way. Not that she would ever admit it out loud. Somehow, she felt like that might have long reaching, regrettable consequences. The mention of a new phone has her perking up, temper tantrum fading, in the new development of she might be getting her very own Stark phone.

“I guess, done is done anyways, so I suppose flipping about it doesn’t solve anything. Sorry. It’s been a weird couple days. Yeah, my phone was the first casualty of the telekinesis control war. Thing flew out of my hand and hit the wall hard enough to basically explode into pieces. Kinda cool, except most of my entire life was on that thing. I have not liked not having one and the one I ordered hasn’t come in yet.”

Her toe scuffs a little on the floor, and she looks at Tony out of the corner of her eye. It was a little embarrassing to have had a little outburst like that, but she had said to Az that a baby breakdown was entirely possible.

“If you’re willing to fix that for me, I wouldn’t say no, but I certainly don’t expect it.”

"Alright then, Starkphone first. Then we can deal with the rest." Tony replies as he jumps off the table. "JARVIS print out a Starkphone for her." He adds as he beckons her towards the elevators. "He'll get you fixed up."

"Do you have a color preference, Miss Walker?" Comes the crisp tones of the intelligence.

"Anyway here is what she sent me. And…if you want…I can get you in contact with a psychic I know. She's pretty and rich and very powerful. You've heard of Emma Frost right?"

The screen that swims up to her and bobs around next to her has a long string of a text message from Jess.

'Tell Trish that I love her, I'm glad she's safe, that's what matters, to please not use telepathy as it's evil even if she can, moving shit with her brain is kind of cool though and…we'll sort everything out. If she was too afraid to tell me because I can be a raging overprotective bitch more inclined to scream and stomp than to actually listen to what happened then that's on me. Since usually people don't just spout powers spontaneously I have to deduce whatever happened was fucking terrible. Tell her she can replace her phone now as she no longer needs the excuse to dodge me. I hope to be back soon. Your own case has sat dormant for far too long while I deal with this metaphysical mess. How's Az?'

“Amethyst,” comes Trish’s unhesitating reply to JARVIS’s inquiry. There are moments when she hesitates over choosing purple anything, due to Jess’s aversion to the color, but this is not one of those moments. This is a moment to indulge in your most absolute favorite, no matter who it bothered.

“Yes, I’ve heard of her. Haven’t had the pleasure yet, but I’ve heard of her. Is there anyone you don’t know? Wait, don’t answer that, I don’t need to know.”

Her brows draw together as she starts to read the message from Jess. Anyone watching her read them would be able to experience the full range of feels in one text. She rolls her eyes at ‘evil’, grins at ‘cool’, and goes all soft at the reassurance of figuring it all out. ‘Raging overprotective bitch’ gets a derisive snort and an exasperated head shake. The rest of the sentence makes her feel guilty and awful for not just coming out and saying what had happened, though in her defence it was very terrible. The rest was skimmed through until the question about Az, which brought more guilt. Trish had not been doing a very good job with that particular task Jessica had left her.

She scrubs her hands over her face before she addresses meeting Emma. It might have been to wake herself up, it could have been to stave off tears, and clear away any that might have snuck out. Either way, she wasn’t going to tell.

“I might, yeah. But not right away. I need to deal with Jess and figure out how to be out in public without having accidents first. Which sounds really bad and I will try and figure out a better way to say that.” She offers a weak grin. It had been bugging her the whole time, but she had told herself it was none of her business and she was not going to ask. It would be snoopy, it could make Tony uncomfortable (as if a temper tantrum wouldn’t), and she would not ask.

“Who gave you the black eye?”

/God damn it, Trish…/

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