4379/Mike's Hideaway

Mike's Hideaway
Date of Scene:	11 December 2020
Location:	Shaw Studios
Synopsis:	Hank comes by with toys and a wish list of his own.
Cast of Characters:	Michael Hannigan, Hank Pym

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Michael Hannigan has posed:
It is definitely the holiday season over at Shaw Studios. While the hallways leading down to the recording areas are silent, there's the soft hint of Christmas music playing in the front main lobby. Not too loud but a warm comforting sound for those who are seeking such tones but not to the point where others can't tune it out if they're not as inclined.

A holiday tree is positioned near the curve of the main stairwell allowing for those using the steps to get glimpses of the sides of the tree as they ascend to the offices above. Sloping up on a diagonal in one direction, blue and white ribbon stand out amongst the green branches. Sloping the other direction, red and gold. Stars, bulbs, and CDs dangle from the branches, reflecting the light from the overhead lights.

At the base of the tree, several toys have accumulated. A sign nearby indicating the day in which the gifts under the tree will be gathered for the St. Nicholas Shelter.

The first floor security guard hangs out near the front entrance way. Humming along to the music of 'Home for the Holidays', Larry appears to be in a rather good mood, glancing between the tree and the front door. On his uniform jacket there's a Frosty pin to give a bit of seasonal flair.

As for Mike, he's stepping down the large staircase, head turned to his left as he looks to the tree on his descent. A lazy smile forms on his face as he balances a few rolled up tubes of poster, tape, and a stapler in his arms.

Hank Pym has posed:
Hank Pym looks a little worse for wear, and something is clearly wearing on him. Long hours in the lab are nothing compared to fatherhood. Obviously no other father has ever found himself with a child who has a whole life they do not comment on! Let alone a teenager! His bright blue eyes are contrasted with reddened sclera. He's without a hat and the cold and the wind has scoured his fair skin and ears, turning them red. Hank is about as white a person as you can be without being see through. Oddly, his trench coat is flapping open, revealing mismatched cargo pants and shirt. He steps into the foyer and looks up at Mike, looking a little lost and brushing Larry aside.

"Mike," he says hoarsely. "I brought toys... I need a favor." And like that a tiny cellophane bag appears in his hand, rapidly growing as he sets it down. It is crammed with plushies. With his other hand, he rubs his face, like someone waking from a dream.

Michael Hannigan has posed:
"Hey Larry any lu-" Mike starts to state to the guard before a glimpse over in Larry's direction brings the tired visage of Hank to view. The smile fades as pale blue eyes take in the expression of the older man. "Hank?" Mike queries, steps quickening a bit more down the steps. Tubes bouncing in his arms as he does so. His attention shifts briefly to the growing bag before looking back to Hank. "Thanks." He nods, tilting his head towards the stairs. "Come on. We'll see if Wade can loan us his office." He glances over to the guard, holding up the supplies "Hey Larry. Could you put one of these posters up on the notice board and tape the other one to face outside for me? Signup announcement for the dinner just goes on the board."

Larry, who starts to step forward when Hank walks past pauses as he hears Mike adress the man. The guard steps back but is no longer humming along to the music but instead watching the growing bag of plushes obscuring the base of the trees. Hearing his name, he glances back to the pair, "Oh yeah, sure Mike." With a few steps he comes over, allowing for the musician to empty his arms of the contents.

Hank Pym has posed:
Hank Pym glances at the posters as they pass by without about Mike's level of comprehension when faced with Hank's whiteboard scribbles. that is he knows they're important to Mike. He allows himself to be led upstairs and down to the left to a door reading Wade Shaw. Once inside he sits down, elbows on his knees, hands clasped together. Hank lets out a sigh, trying to relax? Resignation? Hard to say. His head drops a little and finally he ventures, "I'm tired. I ran from the mansion to battery Park City and then started collecting as I walked back here... a lot. I'm tired... not from walking."

Michael Hannigan has posed:
The office itself is pretty simple. While the furniture is of good quality, the pieces appear to be chosen based off of need. There is a desk, some chairs, and a rather comfy looking futon set up against the wall. It seems that the session musicians are not the only ones who have crashed in the building overnight. The desk is also pretty sparse. A laptop locked to the desk, a notepad, a pen cup, a newspaper and a single framed photo showing Wade and Nick with two men of similar age smiling with an older looking man backstage somewhere. The members of Silver Round, and a manager.

After making sure the door is closed. Mike allows for Hank to take the comfiest seat in the room, the futon. Instead he helps himself behind the recently vacated desk of Shaw, grabbing a sealed bottle of water resting on one of the desktops, likely kept out for guests. Giving a nod as Hank gives a type of explanation for what led to him being here. He walks over, handing the bottle over to Hank. "Hitting the low point?" The musician asks.

Hank Pym has posed:
Hank Pym picks his head up. "Low... no that's in about four days. I just... I'm never sure if my cycle is hitting a bump or if I am justified in being happy or sad. In this case, sad. I listen Mike, I know I am a pain in the ass. You've been a good friend. Thank you. It's hard to say at times. I was doing some sciencing with Nadia and everything was great but I am trying to talk to her about stuff. I was talking about scheduling as a means for managing my BPD. I said it'd be good for her and I suggested regular dinner once a week to stay in touch. That goes out the window when she says, she's already on meds. I... it took the heart out of me. My daughter mentions a life decision like that she made on her own... never mind how the hell does she get the meds because laughingly, I am her guardian. She can get therapy and such on her own, but meds? Anyway she starts mentioning going to Pluto and Jupiter and... she's just out of reach. I can't even keep track of her let alone protect her and obviously advising her is not wanted. I left before I could blow up. I suck as a dad. I deal great with everybody else's kids but my own daughter? ****."

Michael Hannigan has posed:
"It's alright Hank. We're all pain in the asses to someone." Mike replies, nodding to the door. "For example, I just kicked Wade out of his office and he owns the place."

To add to matters, the rocker takes Wade's chair and rolls it around the desk. He sits down, hand hitting the lever to lower the seat to Hank's level. He rests his elbows on his knees, clasping his hands together, head turned to watch Hank as he talks.

"So. Upfront. You know I'm not a dad. Nor do I have much experience on the other side of things. Raised by my mom and then my aunt. Also an only child. So... I don't know what it's like raising a child."

As he finishes discrediting himself before he even starts, Mike pauses. "...Have you considered the reason why its easier with other people's kids are because they aren't yours to begin with? You have less riding on it so there's no need to stress about the details?"

Hank Pym has posed:
Hank Pym picks his head up and says, "I'm advising kids with superpowers... you better believe I stress about them. One of them already nearly got her ass handed to her by Whirlwind. You met her... Ant-Girl. At least I didn't start yelling at her. I told her stay away from Aripiproline... it's what messed me up. Who the hell is giving meds to my kid, Mike?! No wait... doesn't matter. She has a 100 grand a year thanks to Janet, a lab thanks to Janet, sense a pattern here? I make goddam sandwiches. And she's a stranger. She can say she loves me but... there's no involvement it seems."

"When I built that wormhole to alternate Earths, Mike, wen all this happened... here's a secret, I had no intention fo coming back. What was there here for me: What's here now? I fucked up fatherhood too. I should just vanish in a flash of light. Save us all a lot of trouble."

Michael Hannigan has posed:
Mike drifts quiet, giving a slow nod to the description of Ant-Girl and how he acted around Nadia. But the nodding turns to a shake of the head when the conversation switches over to talk about vanishing.

"I'd rather you not do that." He states, simply, "There will always be that person who gets more attention. Just as you're that person to someone else. Life is never going to be perfect or what you expect it to be like. But the point of it is not to give up. To work with what you got. Ideal or not. It's okay to take breathers when it gets to be too much, but... maybe back away from the absolutes?"

Hank Pym has posed:
Hank Pym draws his hand from one of his bottomless pockets and suddenly, there's a thick notebook binder in it. "I think the only person I get attention from without working for it is you Mike. You're certanly the one who I can always seem to reach and talk with... whether in Cafe Lalo or a diner. Heh. This is a copy of all my important papers: last will and testament, deeds, patents, accounts. Almost everything is going to Nadia of course, stipend for Vivian, a small grant to Shannon and Kamala. Anyway, if anything happens to me I named you my executor. Nadia is a good girl but frankly, she was off to Pluto and Jupiter without telling me and out of reach. But the really important paper is here which you have to sign... if you agree... "

Michael Hannigan has posed:
Mike's jaw drops slightly as the large binder grows before him and Hank goes into an explanation to what it is. Eyes widen the deeper Hank goes. Glancing up to Hank between descriptions. By the time Hank is done, Mike's posture is tense. "Ok Hank you're making me a bit worried here with this. Are you okay? You're not actually actively planning on something that would merit me having to execute this anytime soon, right?"

Hank Pym has posed:
Hank Pym shakes his head and puts a hand on Mike's shoulder. "No. I am not planning on anything final. I intend to o kicking and screaming but... I have had health issues and I am considering my medical care if I am incapacitated. Other than you, my options are... a sixteen year old or... Janet. If you think I'm giving Janet the option of puling the plug... it's a joke Mike but logically, they are both out of contact a lot and have much on their plate. If it came to that... well... you can feel dreams sort of? If I am not dreaming, it is over. So you're a logical choice and that one criteria puts the decision out of your hands and leaves it in mind."

"Now, medical treatment... SHIELD only. Janet has a private hospital. I do NOT want that. Her doctors are used to Janet, who is unique. I am baseline human.She already shanghai'd nadia there after we rescued her. She might try for me too. Keep those high priced pill pushers away from me. SHIELD, well I have former students working there. It's my best shot. Unless Dr. Richards gets involved. Keep your mouth shut about the last part. Anyway there are a number of flash drives in there with data on my condition and possible treatments and my reaction to BPD meds."

"I know... I sound like a bitter and paranoid bastard out of context but I think I gave you a logical reason for wanting things this way. Will you sign?" And he has a pen ready. A regular one. That already fits in a pocket.

Michael Hannigan has posed:
As Hank explains the reasoning behind the decision, Mike's shoulders and posture starts to relax. He gives a slight nod. "Ok. Uh. It is clear you have put thought to this but still a few points I need to voice."

The musician takes a deep breath, glancing down as he exhales, "First off, have you considered any of your other teammates? Those who might have an easier time interacting with SHIELD for the medical treatment stuff? I am guessing you're probably the closest connection I have to any of that."

Hank Pym has posed:
Hank Pym nods. "I did. One of my team mates is involved heavily in SHIELD. Their contact information is there. I have contact information for Jennifer Walters as well. She could help you in being heard. She friend zoned me but she's a good egg and a fine attorney. As for the rest of my team mates... no. I'm not especially close to anyone and the problems I described for Janet or Nadia exist for them as well. Especially Captain America who I would otherwise trust implicitly. Or for that matter Reed Richards. Could you see Thor or Hercules signing this stuff? I may exaggerate my isolation and I know I have issues Mike but I thought this out at a point in my BPD cycle when I'm normal. Oh Vivian Vision would ave been chosen for this immediately but law doesn't recognize her as a person. Vivian is another good person."

Hank closes his eyes and says, "There is a lot of talk about the Avengers being a family... this is true but since... Yellowjacket, I feel I'm the crazy uncle they keep in the attic. I mean I was abducted for a couple weeks and only Nadia realized what was up and came after me. Nadia... I have a letter in there for her, and Janet explaining my choice of you as diplomatically as I could." He opens his eyes and looks them onto Mike's seeming to say, "Well?"

Michael Hannigan has posed:
"It does help with peace of mind to know you're covered. And direct relations may be compromised during stressful situations. So I can understand that." Mike allows, looking to the binder.

"Alright. You've definitely put thought into this. So SHIELD medical, unless I can get Richards instead. If I run into any roadblocks, contact Jennifer Walters..." Mike recaps, making sure he heard correctly, "And your criteria regarding life support is if you're unable to dream, Pull the plug? And all of this is documented inside?"

Hank Pym has posed:
Hank Pym nods and then smiles, like a burden has lifted from him. He reaches to shake Mike's hand. "I appreciate this Mike... I am trying to get on with my life, get out of my comfort zone... if you could call it that. I have a lot of people I would fight beside without a second thought, but this is different. Things are fine when Kang or brainiac attack but it's the lulls. I feel like I'm the kid no one talks to unless they need to copy my assignments. I'm trying to get past it and make a more normal life for myself, by myself if necessary."

Michael Hannigan has posed:
Seeing the smile, Mike inadvertently mirrors the Avenger's expression, albeit a little less strong. The offered hand is taken to return the shake. "Regardless how it might feel at times, Hank. You're not alone. Its just some people may not know the right things to say so they assume it's better not to risk saying the wrong things."

He looks down to the paperwork, "A lot of people don't realize silence says something too. And not necessarily what they want." The smile fades, as he glances up to Hank, "Um. Where do I need to sign?"

Hank Pym has posed:
Hank Pym points to a small arrow-shaped pink sticky note with 'sign here' written precisely and neatly on it. "I may be a drama queen but I'm a thorough drama queen."