4675/Coffee: Double Brewed

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Coffee: Double Brewed
Date of Scene: 10 January 2021
Location: The Coffee Bean
Synopsis: Will the real Mike Hannigan raise his hand?
Cast of Characters: Michael Hannigan, Hank Pym




Michael Hannigan has posed:
While the new semester may be in session it's early enough in the semester that the evening cram sessions have not started up at the coffee shop located near campus. This has led to plenty of space to stretch out and relax. Plenty of tables to pick from and no one fighting over the seats in the large seating area with the sofa.

This is perfect for Mike as he has stopped by to rest up from finishing up business at the campus. Unlike other times here, he hasn't brought any books. He just seems to be relaxing on the sofa. Hot cup of tea in one hand and the other arm lazily resting on the arm rest. His eyes aren't closed but it's obvious from the blank expression that the musician's thoughts are elsewhere.

Hank Pym has posed:
Hank Pym enters the coffee shop with a stride that says he owns it. He goes to the bar and produces a small card from his pocket. "This is exactly how I want my latte. It's not horribly difficult but it is involved and I don't want it scrawled illegibly on a cup. I realize this is a four dollar order... but it is my lousy four dollar order. Therefore, I will give you a twenty and let you keep it should my order prove satisfactory. Is this agreeable to you?"

The barista blinks. "You're Doctor Henry Pym!"

"... thank you I think. That won't impact on my order will it?"

"Oh no... it's just I am studying biochemistry!"

"Would you prefer the measurements in metric, I have two kinds of cards, metric system and for /idiots/ here. Oh an autograph.... well, aren't you the sweetest little dear!"

The barista watches Hank walk away. "You aren't studying biochem... you're in theater!"

"And I made us sixteen bucks. I recognized him from a rant he had here a week ago." Hank waits a little apart from the baristas, thinking.

Michael Hannigan has posed:
At the shout declaring Hank to be in the house, the glazed over effect upon Mike's eyes breaks. The musician blinks, lifting up his free hand to press two fingers to his forehead, thumb to chin as he glances down. Eyes flutter for a few moments before he brings his head back up. Pale eyes look over to the waiting Hank. Upon the scientist looking over his general direction, he lifts up the hand to give him a wave.

Hank Pym has posed:
Hank Pym walks over to Mike, head tilted. "Is everything all right, Michael? You seem preoccupied." There's also a certain tenseness to Hank. It's almost as if he's... suspicious?

"Mike, Nadia was asking me where I had met you and... for the life of me... I can't remember the venue's name. Some charity of some kind. Please, it is driving me crazy!" The scientists smirks, "This is what comes of turning 40 tomorrow. the memory is the first to go.The second to go is... the memory, I think?"

Michael Hannigan has posed:
As Hank walks over, giving him an odd look, Mike's brow lifts in inquiry. What's going on? Upon the scientist coming closer some familiar aspects to Mike become a bit more apparent. Tired look in the eyes? Check. Book in hand? No. Uh. Oh.

As Hank brings up Nadia, he seems a bit more confused. "Why would you be talking about me with N-" He pauses, "...Oh that request at the studio. Guess that would merit questions." He shakes his head, "I'm about normal for myself, Hank. Just finished up with a coaching session and taking a break to rest and zone out a bit."

He lifts up the tea to sip at it. The cup lowers before he can do that though. "Wait. Your birthday's tomorrow?"

Hank Pym has posed:
Hank Pym brushes the question aside. "Michael... I need to know where I met you... right now." Hank is not a big guy as superheroes go (unless he wants to be). But he is six feet tall and somehow does find the time to work out a fair but, even more lately in his health kick. He puts his hand on the arm of the sofa and leans over, dead serious, "The even when we met. Please." He watches Mike intently.

Michael Hannigan has posed:
Hank is not a big guy indeed. But he's still taller and heavier than Mike. Added with Mike not being the type to use his powers 24-7 or to fight his friends that can give the scientist an added advantage, especially with Mike not sure what's going on. The musician's head tilts as Hank repeats the question. "...The one for Bushwick? Uh, there was a silent auction. We chatted. You brought up Raphael's Flask and I played piano."

He shifts slightly, sliding his elbow off of the sofa arm Hank has claimed as his own. "...Ok, you're starting to worry me, Hank."

Hank Pym has posed:
Hank Pym sighs in relief. Then he sits next to Mike and claps him on the shoulder. "Michael... what I am telling you... I could get into big trouble for. Our wolrd has been breached from an alternate Earth. Several thousand deranged doubles of our people have come over via technology. I am afraid... some might not use technology, but magic. You need to tell your crowd, be on guard. Use signs and counter signs. All that stuff." He glances up and says, "And that is the way chapter two ends. What do you think?" That last is tacked on as the server approaches bearing a latte. Hank tastes it and hands her a twenty and she thanks and fades away before he might change his mind because, crazy man!

Michael Hannigan has posed:
Eyes watch Hank as the older man moves over to the other side of him to sit down. Sofa arm freed up again, he glances over to set his free arm on it again.

His head cocks towards Hank as an explanation for the odd behavior is indirectly given. His head fully turns as the server stops by to set down Hank's drink. "Seems like a repeat of this other book." He replies, watching the server.

Once its back to just them in the general area, he looks back to Hank and then his tea. "I don't get around as much in that community as you apparently think I do." He admits, voice lowered, "I know, maybe a handful. One of which I haven't seen in 8 years si-" He pauses. "I know a handful. I'll relay the message to them if they don't already know."

Hank Pym has posed:
Hank Pym sips his latte. "So much for my vacay. Every time I plan, something like this comes up. Eh... whatever. I'm sorry, you were saying?" He tries to keep his tone conversational, but he notes a yellow light on his regulator bracelet and frowns. He does the tried and true maneuver of tapping it, then turns it around so the light faces away from them

"You know more people than I do in that line. If you needed to talk to the Fantastic Four, or Defenders -you'd ask me as I have some connection to them." He rubs his eyes a little. "Are you all right? You seem pensive.

Michael Hannigan has posed:
"I'm just tired." Mike replies, shaking his head, "One of my busy days. Just taking a breather." A finger taps on the side of the cup. "I'll relay the message to those I can get in contact with. Strange probably already knows but just in case..." He shrugs.

Hank Pym has posed:
Hank Pym smirks. "Yes, Strange is all knowing... till his wifi craps out. So you were asking me about my b-day> Tomorrow. For-tee. I'm getting too old for this crap. This is when professional athletes consider retiring. It's a fair comparison. They wreck their knees. I wrecked my health with Pym particles. I don't have Super Soldier serum or wasp enhanced physiology; I'm certainly not a god or synthezoid. Some people think I'm an AI."

Michael Hannigan has posed:
"Yeah, but probably better to go with the 'damned if I do' instead of the 'damned if I don't' when it comes to him." Mike replies.

He glances over to Hank. "I think this is where I'm supposed to respond with 'you're only as old as you feel' or 'age is but a number.' But it kind of depends on the person." Mike glances around, "On the bright side you're probably not going to get stink-eye from the DMV when its time to renew that ID."

Hank Pym has posed:
Hank Pym looks into the distance. "Age is just a number. It's not the years. It's the miles. And mine are over some rough roads..."

Michael Hannigan has posed:
"Well, as much as a smooth road is good for relaxing, the rough ones tend to be more interesting." Mike muses, "Be pretty boring if you just kept to the well maintained ones."

Hank Pym has posed:
Hank Pym says, "Okay. If we don't stop talking in metaphors I'm going to kill myself. I have a lab to get back to... uh, if you find one of these guys, let me have him. I'm working on an evil detector and I need a subject, OK? Nadia is working on detecting the portals at short range and it may have applications in identification but we need a fall back. Listen, if one of these things come after you... do not hesitate. Even if it looks like me, do not hesitate... you might be the only person I need to say that to. When we meet again I will use the password... Lalo. Now you make up a countersign."

Michael Hannigan has posed:
Mike nods, "Well, it might depend on which one of these guys I come across to determine if it gets to you. If there's a duplicate evil Hulk out there I'd rather him not linger."

He looks to his drink. "Lalo..." He repeats, considering. "I'll go with 'London'."

Hank Pym has posed:
Hank Pym says, "I mean if you have doubts about me, take the person down. I've gone on full blown breakdowns and I've tied up a number of my friends at once. Partly because it was surprise, partly because they didn't want to hurt me. I still wasn't trying to kill anyone, despite what some have said. I am well aware of what an evil version of me could do. I don't like to think about what that implies. Somehow, I'm still an Avenger. Even if they keep me in the backyard."

Michael Hannigan has posed:
Mike frowns at the implication. Both of the cuation about the other person and the mention of Hank's living situation. "I thought you chose to be in the backyard."

Hank Pym has posed:
Hank Pym smiles. "Call it fifty-fifty. Yes the Avengers are a family. I'm just the crazy uncle they keep in the guest house or basement. Annnnnd do you really think I'd stay under the same roof with my ex and her new boyfriend. Awkward. That's... I don't connect with many people, Mike. A handful. I was always that way. For all that I joke about her being so terrible, Janet just made a mistake marrying me. I wasn't always the greatest partner or husband. I'm not the best at... people. I do better with ants and kitsune, turns out."

Michael Hannigan has posed:
"Well, if its any consolation. I am neither of those and you do alright with me." Mike points out, cracking a slight smile. "We each got our own quirks. I probably drive Wade nuts from time to time. Just like he does to me."

But hey, cost of living in New York. What are you going to do?

Hank Pym has posed:
Hank Pym nods, "Like I said, a handful. I'm working on it. Not easy hacking your own brain. AI are easier. Actually they're about the same. But you can do it quicker and the duration is shorter. Free minds are hard to permanently alter. I should probably get back to work. This is enough relaxation. Relaxing is a lot harder than I thought. Imagine that. Then again I missed my last break periods... six of them."

Michael Hannigan has posed:
"One of the perks of having a good manager" Mike replies, "They make sure I take breaks." He lifts up his tea in a mock toast. "I won't keep you. But, try to take more breaks or longer ones to offset the missed ones. Kind of like a mental recalibration time or something."

The cup lowers. "Take care, Hank."