4153/No Lols at the Lalo

No Lols at the Lalo
Date of Scene:	17 November 2020
Location:	Cafe Lalo
Synopsis:	Two Doctors and a musician enter a restaurant...
Cast of Characters:	Hank Pym, Henry McCoy, Michael Hannigan

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Hank Pym has posed:
Hank Pym enters the cafe, a small wined ant perched on his fingertip. "Go home, I'll take an Über back to the Mansion and sleep in my lab if Nadia asks. And you keep you mouth shut about what went down. I will talk to her. last thing I need is her playing mother or warden. Tell her I love her." He walks in and takes a deep breath of caffeine laden air. He gets a table and a menu and settles in. He looks a little troubled about the cocktails served but sticks to the Cafe menu.

And he waits for the server and his head doesn't melt. His heat doesn't explode. The world keeps on turning. It's wonderful.

Henry McCoy has posed:
Dinner was on the mind of two Hanks, this evening. Henry McCoy, also known as the Beast, made his way into the cafe. He was dressed in a polo shirt and jeans, along with comfortable sneakers. "Smells great..." He offers to noone in particular. He pauses just inside the door, pondering where to sit. So many choices!

Michael Hannigan has posed:
Not too far from where Hank is seated, there's a small gathering of persons making their goodbyes. Seemingly a merger of several parties, they don't all leave at one time. As about two people leave both looking to their phones, a single person is left with two black trays sitting to either side of him.

There is not much of note to that except for the familiar face of the last man sitting. It is Nick Drago, calmly sipping his coffee as his eyes glance towards the door the waitress has slipped away to. It seems he's still waiting for his check.

Hank Pym has posed:
Hank Pym notices Henry McCoy entering and gets up to walk over to him and in unPym-like fashion give him a grot hug. "Hank the younger. Come sit with me. I'd like to make an appointment to talk to you about Shannon Davis... she seems intent on using her magic fastball to break the faces of criminals without considering other options. But let's discuss that tomorrow and have a pleasant evening. I have ants watching her. Come join me for some coffee and nutrition." He indicates his table.

Henry McCoy has posed:
The Beast glances over, smiling as the other man greets him. "Hello Dr. Pym, how goes your evening?" He asks, moving over to the table and taking the offered seat. "Yes, Miss Davis has a lot of gumption and want to prove something... which I have suggested against. Slow and steady, in learning." He assures. "Coffee and food sounds delightful. How have you been, as of late?"

Michael Hannigan has posed:
Presuming the waitress to probably either be taking her time exiting the back area or leaving through another doorway, the musician's gaze shifts back front. The action pauses as the view of the Hanks. One of which he's met. The cup lowers as he gives a half smile, tilting his head up in a half nod of acknowledgement to Pym.

Hank Pym has posed:
Hank Pym the half nod is answered by a dead eyed up nod worthy of Harley Quinn or a similar badass. Then Hank makes a sweeping get over here motion to Mike pulling a chair out.

"How've I been? Not good lately. I abandoned my bipolar meds because they were causing my powers to slowly kill me. My nerves kept shrinking and growing slightly. Not good. I cut out all my meds and I was a bastard to my daughter before I got the hang of... me and now... I just asked Jennifer out on a date and got shot down but I'm doing fine. You know why?"

Hank smiles, "I'm a little sad about this but another woman will come along, I will make it up to Nadia, and I'm alive and I'm not going villain or screaming or cursing or rampaging. I'm just a little sad. Not depressed. Sad. I can live with it. Oh Henry, this is my pal Mike Hannigan. Sit down you goof! This is Dr. Henry McCoy. So talk among yourselves."

Henry McCoy has posed:
Dr. McCoy listens, hrming. "Perhaps another methodology of treatment, then? I've been running into a good number of various people who were having issues with chronic issues and treatments affecting their well-being, due to the unique nature of their physiology." He says, with a frown. "Myself included." A shrug. "Jennifer?" He grins. "And was it a not now, or a not ever?"

"My... long time girlfriend and I just parted ways, things didn't work out for us, so I sympathize." A wry chuckle. He glances over to Mike, offering a wave. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Hannigan."

Hank Pym has posed:
Hank Pym grumps a bit. "I'm sorry to hear about your break up, Henry. Jen said not ever. Honest to God I'm swearing off women unless I'm their father or teaching them something. I'm at the point where all the anecdotal evidence indicates the woods has not risen deep enough to grow a female wants anything to do with me at this point. Most of it is my doing, Janet van Dyne has a little credit though I had fun being ruined. To Janet van Dyne, gentlemen. Oh, Henry, Mike here gave me a wonderful song for treating depression. I listen to it often -Raphael's Flask."

Michael Hannigan has posed:
Seeing the gesture, Mike nods and gets up from his seat. Attention shifting back over to the server who looks to him all wide eyed. He gestures over to table de Hank and upon them giving a relieved look, the musician shifts over to the table.

Reaching the table, he pauses as the elder man starts making introductions, giving a nod to McCoy. "Nice to mee-"

He pauses as Pym urges him to sit down. Glancing over to him for a moment before he does do that. He looks back over to the other Hank. "Nice to meet you as well, Dr. McCoy. Genetics?"

Henry McCoy has posed:
A shrug. "C'est la vie." He says, with a slight smile. "As you say, I am not dead, I am still moving forward." Henry admits. "I still have some challenges to overcome, but I will triumph." The blue doctor offers over. "I think your scientific method in this is a bit skewed." He teases Hank.

A smile to Mike. "Indeed. Genetics and a few others. I tend to keep my mind occupied, to further myself in the world."

Michael Hannigan has posed:
Mike glances over to Hank at the mention of Raphael's Flask. "...Ah yes. It was an easter egg on one of my albums. Until Hank brought it up. I didn't realize that it was being used during therapy. So I gave it a proper recording a few months ago..."

He gives a nod as McCoy confirms the Genetics part. "I've heard your name come up once or twice before."

Hank Pym has posed:
Hank Pym sits back and says, "Yeah I can make it all better. I have a new theory. Tell me what you think? Alcohol tends to make bipolar disorders worse. If you take a drink while manic, you are more manic. If you drink while depressed, you feel more depressed. But dang it... I feel normal right now sooo I getting a flipping beer. A real beer." He turns togive an order to a waitress and then looks back at his companions.

"I'm sorry Henry, did you say you had a problem of some sort? I got the ball rolling if you want a gripe session. Mike is a friend... and I'm sure he can complain if he chooses."

Henry McCoy has posed:
He finally gets his coffee, taking a sip. "I... recently was captured by a rather unethical mutant scientist. Dr. Essex, you may have heard of him." Even the name brings a growl from Henry. "He... forced this new, more feline mutation on me. While it has certainly boosted my physical strength and abilities - it has come at a loss of manual dexterity." He wiggles his changed fingers a bit. "And... it has forced me into conflict between my rational side and my feral side."

Michael Hannigan has posed:
"I've found that the effects of alcohol kind of vary by the person." Mike responds, head tilting to Pym's observation "There are some friends I care not to drink around because of that."

He turns his head to look to the more outwardly blue scientist. Frown forming at the mention of being forced into a mutation. "Even if there are advantages, that's still - well, a pretty shit thing to do to another person."

Hank Pym has posed:
Hank Pym loses something of his rather forced jocularity. He listens to Henry's problem thoughtfully. "Essex... wait... that guy. Yes we have an Avengers file on him. Dr. Sinister? My God, I'm sorry Henry. Please let me take a look at you he probably tweaked your endocrine system or your seratonin production. He's a biologist not a sorcerer, there's got to be something I can do for you. Sometimes knowing what is happening gives you more of a handle on it. This whole thing tying my powers into my bipolar phases was pretty upsetting. Among other things I was stuck at variable heights. I wasn't used to that. I'm usually ant-sized, six feet or 12 feet. I got into a full rant at my Nadia then suddenly realized I was looking up at her. Mike caught me teen sized. Having your body morph without control is the worst. I want to help you. Maybe we can help each other. We can talk about the alternative treatments you mentioned. Surely. Come to my lab."

Hank nods at Mike's statement, "There are shit scientists out there. Some view Mutants, and mutates like me, as experimental materials. I am not a shit scientist but... I am doing work on myself. This Pym syndrome, it may affect my daughter, Lang... Hell I don't even want it to happen to Janet. I'm the oldest and the person who used Pym tech the longest so it has to be me. And meanwhile I deal with a bipolar daughter who's smarter as me and sometimes is bigger than me. If it keeps up she can adopt me heh? I'm going to stop drinking." He ponders the dessert menu intensely.

Henry McCoy has posed:
The coffee in his hands is turned repeatedly, the Beast watching it as it rotates. A glance to Mike. "He didn't care what he was doing. Only that he forced further mutation. He tortured a handful of us." He says, growling still. "Some died. He didn't care, he considered them failures for not mutating further."

Glancing to Hank, he nods. "I ... am all for looking into it. I get lost in studies these days, cannot focus and cannot reach all the knowledge I know I have." A frown to that. "I'm more than happy to get help on this. I've not been able to reach Moira for aid."

Michael Hannigan has posed:
Mike looks between the two scientists, working to follow what was being discussed. Shaking his head as the server finally returns with the tray and his card. He takes the card before taking the pen up to fill out the tip and total "...I hope that asshole got caught." He responds. Probably not the most clever of responses, but more to the point."

He signs his name, "Well, It's not much but, I do know it does take time to come to terms with sudden changes to what was considered normal to yourself. So, I wish you two luck as you find your balance with how you are now."

The pen double taps upon the paper before the pen sets down upon the tray and the musician stands up. He nods to the two of them. "Until later."

Hank Pym has posed:
Hank Pym looks over at the receipt, "Hey you picked up the check... you didn't even get to bitch. All right I'm getting the check next time, or making dinner. I cook. Thank you Mike. Well I'd offer you guys a room but..." He shrinks down to ant size then does a leap onto a flying ant that swoops towards him. "Night fellows. I'll be in touch." Hank Pym flies off.

Henry McCoy has posed:
The exit and check-snatch from Mike gets a chuckle from Henry. "I think it might be a race next time as to who's picking up the bill." He teases, offering a wave to Mike. As Hank shrinks down, he nods and grins. "Always an exit with you, Hank. Take care." He gets to his feet, heading towards the exit himself.

Michael Hannigan has posed:
"Well, I did kind of make arrangements before I even sat down," Mike admits, giving a chuckle, losing his advantage of being the first to stand up as others make their leave first.

He is a performer so, as Hank manages to pop off with a sudden disappearing act, Mike does one of his own.

Does he portal out? No.

Does he walk through the wall? NO!

He uses the door.