2808/What's up, Doc

What's up, Doc
Date of Scene:	06 August 2020
Location:	Alias Investigations
Synopsis:	Jessica has a visitor at Alias, someone she recently snarked for the purposes of her own online ads. But online ads work, she got a case out of it.
Cast of Characters:	Jessica Jones, Doc Samson

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Jessica Jones has posed:
It's been a slow day in Alias Investigations, her latest case closed, the bigger stuff with Genosha and Brainiac and all sorts of grander issues have made people shy away from reflecting on the little things. Meaning less mindless cases about cheating spouses, not as much interest from NYPD to shut open cases they can't solve, and leaving Jessica having to stoop to hunting for leads online. She is sitting at her desk, reclined in her seat, feet set on the table with the keyboard in her lap as she goes about typing. Occasionally her hand reaches to an open bottle of whiskey set on her desk, sipping from it as if it was juice. The door to her office, weirdly enough, is in pristine condition. A testament to the lowered traffic, she hadn't had to punch anyone out through it in a while!

Doc Samson has posed:
The plate glass on the Alias Investigations door grows dark, as if the lights from the hallway outside have turned off.

Or, perhaps, as if a massive figure blocks their illumination--a possibility confirmed by the hulking shadow cast into the office from outside.

"Hello?" a deep voice calls. There's a heavy thoom-thoom of knocking on the door frame, rather than the door.

"Jones? Jones!" Another thoom of knocking.

"I know you're in there!"

Jessica Jones has posed:
"Yeah, I'm not hiding...come on in," it's been so dead, Jessica doesn't actually mind an unscheduled meeting. She needs a case to keep the bills paid, albeit the way the shadow is cast by the figure on the other side, she can't be too certain this isn't some shakedown attempt by a rival agency, "what do you want?" She asks even as the door opens, quickly shifting to sit straight, taking her legs off the table, putting the keyboard in place. At the very last moment, she also corks the whiskey and puts that half finished bottle away as well. In her...whiskey drawer. What? Surely every office desk has one of those...

Doc Samson has posed:
There's a pause and then the door opens slowly.

"I'm ... sorry," the deep voice says. "In my experience, doors tend not to be unlocked."

As the figure enters and is revealed by the office lights, Doc Samson closes the door softly behind himself.

"We have an urgent matter to discuss, Ms. Jones," he says with a frown. "And it's not a pleasant one."

Jessica Jones has posed:
"In my defense, the lock gets busted so often in this door, I hardly ever bother..." Jessica notes with a smirk, before letting out a bit of a sigh as she sees who it is that just walked in, "this isn't about that stupid youtube comment exchange, is it? I know I can be a bit cheeky, but I'm only looking for customers, okay? Same as you..."

She's already not liking the tone and choice of words by Samson, and wonders if push comes to shove, will she even manage to throw him out.

Doc Samson has posed:
"I don't think we're seeking out customers the same way at all," Samson responds curtly, shaking his head. "I'm not antagonizing others' efforts to--"

He stops himself and clears his throat. "We're going to disagree on this. But that's an issue for another day." He takes another step into the office, hands up and palms toward Jessica.

"Despite my unfortunate entrance ... I come in peace. Well, I come looking for help." Samson frowns again, exhaling deeply through his nose. "A patient of mine has gone missing. Well, incommunicado and missed the last two appointments. I'm concerned for his safety. That's where you come in."

Samson sighs. "You're looking for customers? I want to hire you."

Jessica Jones has posed:
"You don't...?" Jessica asks as if perplexed by Samson's idea that their efforts are somehow different. "Antagonizing...? Moi?" Jessica looks utterly confused, staring at Samson with a straight face. Jessica might appear just slightly more tense, as if she's expecting Samson might show his displeasure in a physical manner. But then he changes the topic, catching her a bit off guard. "Help...?" But his story is a very casual example for the sort of cases people do bring to her, after all the cops only take three years to come back with any sort of response if at all. 'Not in the interest of the public' is a popular one.

"Well then...it seems you've come to the right place," Jessica all at once relaxes, as she reaches for her mouse and keyboard, and apparently gets to it right away. "Patient's name, profession, last known location or I guess billing address would do for starters...? Anything of peculiar intrigue in your sessions? I know all about Doctor-Patient confidentiality, but it would stand out if the guy is a postman or a mobster, you know? Something small like that is what I need to get started."

Doc Samson has posed:
Samson takes a moment to nod at Jessica's questions, resting his hands on his hips.

"The patient's name is Wilbur Frimley. He's a bit of a recluse--a retired engineer who doesn't really like others much." Samson retrieves a small notepad from his back pocket and tears off a page. "Here's his address. Lives in Jersey City."

The psychologist rubs his left temple. "Here's the thing, because it's pertinent. He really doesn't like others much. In our sessions, Wilbur let me know--his dream was to become a Hulk. And yes, I recognize how horrifying that might sound." Samson adds, "It's not so outrageous a /fantasy/ ... but with his disappearance, I'm concerned that he may be trying to realize that fantasy."

Jessica Jones has posed:
Jessica types away the details she's given, occasionally taking a moment to concentrate as she starts to weave the first strands of investigation. "As in...the Avengers' Hulk?" Jessica asks, her eyes rolling as she already has her first impression of Mr. Frimley marred. "Well, he's done a great first step living in Jersey City, he must get a regular influx of anger just from that..." Jessica smirks, as she types away a few more notes. "Levity aside, I think you have a pretty good estimation there...I've seen freaks with power fantasies. I probably have more experience with them than most," Jessica pauses, looking Samson over for a moment, before smirking and quipping, "no offense, Doc. But I would imagine he is absolutely looking to realize it...I'll start by snooping about his apartment, see what clues I can find. I'll keep you posted."

Almost as an after thought, she asks, "when was your last session that he didn't bail on?"

Doc Samson has posed:
"Three weeks ago," Samson says after a moment of thought. "Then he missed his session last week. We'd had the next following that scheduled for this afternoon. Sometimes patients miss a session--if they're long-term enough, and not a case that seems critically urgent to address, then my practice has been to let it go and talk about it in the next session."

"So," he continues, "when Wilbur missed this /second/ appointment, that's when I became concerned. I visited his apartment but he didn't answer the door, and it didn't sound like he was home."

Samson folds his arms across his chest and sighs. "Having recently encountered a private investigator advertising her services ... I opted to let the professional take over."

Jessica Jones has posed:
Jessica jots down the last few details and nods, "I got it, and I think you're definitely right in this case. It's a good hunch, maybe you're not a quack after all, huh?" Jessica grins, alluding to the very same 'advertising' she latched on to Samson's own. "What concerns me more is the off chance he'll actually be successful, but then, methods would all likely be quite lethal. So there's also a chance he just up and killed himself...must be tough dealing with these cases all day, huh?"

Doc Samson has posed:
"I really, really hope he's not successful," Samson replies. "We're talking about incredibly intricate calculations that have to be modified on-the-fly for even the slimmest chance of success. That's something I know for sure."

"But," the doctor adds, his shoulders slumping slightly, "I'm equally worried about what might happen if he fails. What I'm hopeful for, more than anything else, is that he's found, he's safe, and he can get a revised therapeutic regimen."

"Please keep me informed." Samson clears his throat again and runs a hand through his hair. "If you can find Wilbur, and we're not too late ... I'll even endorse Alias Investigations myself." He chuckles mirthlessly. "Not much of an incentive, I know. But I stand by it. And yes--it's incredibly tough dealing with a schedule full of patients who each has their own unique needs. But that's where my own professional training comes into play."

Jessica Jones has posed:
"Yes, we all saw what Hulk can do, and he has experience being what he is...," Jessica doesn't say the obvious, someone on his first day as a Hulk, haven't dreamt of being a Hulk, is likely a disaster. "Well, I'll take your word for it, because all I know on a scientific level is that shit happens." She nods at Samson's concern, and adds, "I can be pretty convincing, but I'm not a licensed therapist, so you'd probably frown on my methods..." she smiles at that bit of extra incentive offered, "you're more of a name than I am, it's certainly appreciated. I'll do my best, that I can promise you. I'll find him, I just hope that alive and well."

Her unspoken concern, of course, is that a benefactor of some sort offered the guy a miracle solution, and meanwhile intends to use him for their own purposes. She's seen that before as well. "Have a good day, Doc, I'll keep you posted as I make progress."