2957/The Re-ant-imator

The Re-ant-imator
Date of Scene:	17 August 2020
Location:	Pym's Mobile Lab
Synopsis:	Scott heads to Hank's lab to apologize for his recent ... exploratory foray ... into ant-related communication technologies. A few suggestions on heroic philosophy are offered, and some decent and not-so-decent business proposals are considered.
Cast of Characters:	Scott Lang, Hank Pym

---

Scott Lang has posed:
There's a knock, and a buzz, and a notification for whatever sort of visitor-arrival system Pym has installed for his lab.

"Hello?" Scott Lang's voice can be heard calling. "Dr. Pym? Hank? Dr. Hank? Pymster?" There's a pause. "I don't know why I called you that. I'm sorry. I just--I just wanted to see if you were here!"

He stands outside the front entrance, in his Ant-Man costume, looking around. "I'm probably just talking to myself, aren't I? He's off in some ant colony expedition or something..."

Hank Pym has posed:
Hank Pym looks up from where he's using a 1.2 Mw Plasma tap to grill bacon on a griddle made of secondary adamantium. He pulls his goggles off and stops the tap. The muscles of his jaws can be seen to work furiously. More telling the ant assistants make some distance between Hank and them. Hank ponders the baseball bat in the umbrella stand for a moment. It's usually reserved for interloping insects. It might fit this situation. He puts the bat back, shrugs and answers the door. "Lang," he says and turns to go back inside.

Scott Lang has posed:
"Heyyyyyy," Scott drags out, allowing Pym to regain some distance before he steps, cautiously, inside the lab.

"I just wanted to stop by to find out if you'd heard anything about, well, /anything/ that might have happened recently," Scott continues, punctuating his not-quite-a-question with a quiet sniff.

"Because if not," he says cheerfully, "then, boy, do I have a business idea for you! I think it's even patent-able! But we'd better act fast, because I bet Tony Stark has really powerful microphones that listen in when the word 'patent' is uttered..."

Hank Pym has posed:
Hank Pym does get a little distance before doing a heel turn to poke Scott Lang with his finger, emphasizing each word, "What. Did. You. DO!?" Ants scurry in the distance. In fact Lang can feel that finger even through the steel mesh of the costume. Then again that spot might have been softened up by other people doing the same thing to him.

Scott Lang has posed:
Freezing for a moment in response to Hank's sudden burst of energy, Scott leans back, his hands slowly rising, palms out, before his chest.

"Whoa, whoa!" he nervously chuckles. "I made a breakthrough! With ant tech! Well, I think I made a breakthrough, anyway," Scott says, clearly pretending to peruse the assorted tools on the nearest bench.

"I managed to get ants to dance on command. But," he adds quickly and quietly, "I may have accidentally stirred up some sort of dead spirit that reanimated dead insects ... hey!" Scott calls, louder. "What's /this/?"

He points to a circuit board. "Looks real fancy ..."

Hank Pym has posed:
Hank Pym looks for an ear to grab, nope helmet. At Lang's last comment he looks at one of several circuit boards. "That's some crap someone left here. I use them for coasters! You had ants dancing... yes. They narced on that and 'said' something about... the undead. You managed to replace a kid with an magnifying glass as their number one fear, Lang. that necromancy of yours just reverberated up and down the tri-state area. You have to learn... and believe me, I learned this the hard way... just because you can do something, doesn't mean you should! I could puppeteer the ants, with a little work. But I won't. They're my friends. I don't command, I ask, they do. Ants have feelings. They give almost all for their colony. I won't deny them what little autonomy they have. Or sugar."

He calms down a little and says, "There were attempts to take control of these creatures, use them against me. They failed. No humans ever showed me that loyalty... all right Nadia does. I won't abuse that trust. You shouldn't either. I've been doing damage control for you but... you have apologies to make, my friend. Otherwise you may find that cybernetic helmet is just a fashion statement."

Scott Lang has posed:
Nodding very slowly, Scott's expression is one of complete confusion.

"So ..." he finally says, "you want me to apologize. I get that. But do you want me to apologize to ... the ants? I'm sorry, Hank," he adds. "I'm sorry about screwing this up. And I'm sorry if I've just asked a moronic question about apologizing to ants."

Scott closes his eyes and attempts to communicate with the ants, his bio-electric signals echoing the same message: SORRY HANK ANTS

Hank Pym has posed:
Hank Pym has an ear bud which honestly duplicates the main functions of the cyber helmet (apart from preventing someone from busting your head). He listens in and then says in all seriousness, "//Sorry for...?//" Scott gets a chorus of, "Yeah Hank's human, sorry for what?" Apparently these ants are sticklers for details. Then again they do hang around Pym. If he opens his eyes he will see Hank with his arms behind his back, hands clasped.

Scott Lang has posed:
Gritting his teeth--whether in frustration or concentration, it's unclear--Scott closes his eyes and transmits a fuller message.

SORRY HANK ANTS
SORRY HANK SORRY HANK ANTS HANK SORRY ANTS
SORRY ANTS FOR DEAD ANTS MOVING
SORRY DEAD ANTS SORRY FOR MOVING YOU
SORRY FOR ZOMBIE PARTY DANCE
SORRY SORRY SORRY DEAD THINGS ALIVE AGAIN

Hank Pym has posed:
Hank Pym 'listens' carefully then nods his head. "Well the tone needs improvement but you hit all the bases. I'll give you that." The ants chime in "//S'okay not Hank.//" Pym nods sagely.

Hank says, "Do you see why I like these little friends so much? I mean we're like gods to them. We could at least be better than the usual representation of human gods. Most of them act like spoiled children at best. You know how they help me, do you know what I do for them? They've been on this Earth for 400 million years and most of that time, they've been at war. War with other insects, war with other ants. Here, with me giving them these little jobs and direction, they actually know peace. Everyone has their territory, a share of the aphids, all that. It's a good deal for them and they'd help me fight crime. So okay, maybe I'm crazy but in this instance, I won't be sane."

Scott Lang has posed:
"I mean," Scott begins, frowning, "I don't know if I want to think of myself as a /god/, necessarily ... but I suppose there's a lesson to be learned in there, somewhere. 'A lot of power means you have to be pretty responsible.'"

He nods at himself and smiles. "I bet we could make a t-shirt outta that!"

Then, Scott sighs and shakes his head. "I'm sorry. You're right. There's a lot I still need to learn--and here I thought I was doing pretty well, all in all. So--other than 'don't control them' and 'don't accidentally bring them back from the dead,' what other sorts of ground rules should I keep in mind?"

Hank Pym has posed:
Hank Pym shrugs. "I think those are a good start, though not animating the dead... I'll let you take credit for that. It never would have occurred to to me. I'll admit that. I thought I'd seen it all. That will teach me. I mean I have heard of all sorts of these tales that could astonish you. For a while it seemed like a month didn't go by without some weird story about a giant monster, or time travel, or aliens... you know they all said the aliens came from Mars but I think they were just handing people a line. Most people wouldn't understand if you told them you were from Zeta Geminorum or Wolf 359. Or... they were all shapeshifters of some sort. But that's kind of silly."

Scott Lang has posed:
"Well, I don't know if I /want/ to take credit for that," Scott replies. "That was an entirely incidental outcome of my /real/ project--which really was to have some synchronized ant-dancing!"

He slaps his forehead, but since he's wearing a helmet, he slaps it instead. "Ouch," he mutters.

"Anyway, Hank--or do you like Pymster? think on it--I know that you've got way more experience with all this stuff than I do. I'm just trying to figure it out and not die trying ... and also to not ruin your reputation, either."

Hank Pym has posed:
Hank Pym Saus, "Hank will do. If you call me Pymster I will not be responsible for my actions. Here, wait a minute... I used to actually collect these old reports. Some of them go back to the 50's. There's a lot of cautionary stuff in here, Scott." He turns to open a closet and calls over his shoulder, "As for be damaging my reputation... I think I have you beat on that department. There are still some countries I'm not allowed into unless accompanied by a senior Avenger. I'm amazed Nadia had such a high opinion of me and continues to. Daughters... amiright?" He turns with a box full of old magazines, tabloids and notebooks. "Here we go. I used to have one of those long boxes they store comic books in full of this stuff. Look through it for some idea of what science gone wrong can do. I'm sure you too will say, "What were they thinking of?" He pulls a particular notebook out and says, "Here we go... lessons in life by Henry Pym age 12: Never piss off a witch or a member of the Romm people, never test stuff on yourself (I tested Pym particles on furniture), if an alien expresses the intent to kill or invade you, check what they overlooked. Saying they intend to do that first marks them as an idiot. They obviously will overlook something. Uhm, leave giant monsters. Don't make creatures bigger than yourself or smarter... Time travel sucks! Never steal a rocket!"

Scott Lang has posed:
Offering a warm, genuine smile, Scott nods. "Daughters. Everything else should be pure cake."

He reaches out to pat Hank on the shoulder and then looks at his hand. "I ... probably shouldn't do that, should I? We're not there yet, I get it. It's cool." He fake-coughs and steps back, listening to Hank's recited notes.

Thinking for a moment, Scott asks: "What's the ethical stance on getting ants to steal a rocket?"

Hank Pym has posed:
Hank Pym says "We can form a new company Pym & Lang: Small Solutions. No problem is too big or too small! To investigate these... If I even suspect you of getting ants to steal a rocket I will break your kneecaps." He does offer a guarded smile and his hand.

Scott Lang has posed:
Hesitantly, Scott reaches out to accept the handshake. "I'm on board, but I have to ask: doesn't calling it 'Small Solutions' suggest that some problems are too big? And while I'm shaking your hand so you can't punch me, what if we built an app called Pymster?"

He offers a sheepish grin. "It could, you know, help with file size. Compression. Shrinking. Making things smaller. And so on."