6825/What a headache

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What a headache
Date of Scene: 06 July 2021
Location: Wade Shaw's Condo
Synopsis: Put one more down for team Drago
Cast of Characters: Hank Pym, Michael Hannigan, Damian Wayne




Hank Pym has posed:
Hank Pym is not wearing any armor. Doesn't mean he is without it.He steps out of the summer heat and proceeds to Wade Shaws condo, banging on the door a little loudly. After a moment he pulls a thermograph from his pocket studies it and then bangs on the door again. "I know you're in there, Michael. I want to talk to you. Let me in." He folds his hands and waits... not for long. He begins channeling his Pym particles.

Michael Hannigan has posed:
As the evening hours set in, there is more and more foot traffic within the hallways of the City Spire Condominiums Building. People are coming home from work, stopping at their respective doors to start a period of relaxation. Some might keep it simple. Have a dinner. Watch some TV. Go to bed. But then there is the Shaw condo. It's not too far from that previous one. Except, the TV is off and Wade is quietly sitting at the desk. Laptop open face groaning into the open palms of his hands.

Mike is lying on his loft bed. Not dressed for sleep, but he's not under the covers either. Nor does he seem to actually be sleeping. He's just... staring at the wall.

Ok so maybe it was a sleep mode of sorts. But the banging of the door manages to trigger a sit up reflex. Too bad he's in a loft bed.

THUNK. "God-Fuu- URGH!"

To the other side of the door, the muffled sounds of Wade laughing can be heard, getting louder and louder as the condo owner undoes all the locks and opens the door. "Yeah come in Hank. He's on the bed." Chortling, Wade shakes his head, closing the door once Hank's inside. The locks getting set back up again.

Mike's leaned back on the bed, rubbing the upper part of his head. Well, at least it's above the hairline...

Hank Pym has posed:
Hank Pym enters. He pauses to shake Wade's hand. He murmurs something about the new neighbor quickly. Then he walks over to the bed and looks up at Mike. "What happened to you now? Did you get beaten? Wade, is someone making trouble for him? I would like to know. I'm not the Punisher but I can make their knees bend the other way and still sleep nights."

Michael Hannigan has posed:
"Punisher was in Rome." Mike mutters, slowly rolling over to make the descent down the ladder a bit easier. And less prone to even more displays clumsiness.

Wade blinks, turning to look over to Mike, "WHAT?!"

Mike pauses, back to the others as he grimaces slightly to the reaction. Ok, go to the new topic. "I'm fine. Not hurt. Had a few people pop in to help before it really became a problem."

Wade grumbles, looking over to Hank. "We're going to be making arrangements to increase security before there's another show. Seems a few-" He pauses, looking over to the youngest man in the room, "-specialists in this type of field are offering their services."

Mike looks over to Wade. "Wade-?"

The studio owner looks over to his roommate. "...Riiiight. Fine. Have to make some calls anyways. Heading over to the desk, he snatches up his phone and looks to Hank. "Stay til I get back, please."

Hank Pym has posed:
Hank Pym folds his arms again. "Do you think a crossbar is going to keep a demon out? Wait is it cold iron? I can beef up your security. A bunch of $15 dollar an hour wage earners will not cut it. Have you spoken to Illyana or Amanda about this, or Saeko... I can try to find her for you. I could ring this place with... force fields would work long enough for you to... do your thing or get a call out for help. I can fix it so an ant can't get in. Nothing will get by me."

Damian Wayne has posed:
     "It is about as effective as The Club." Out from the curtains stepped Robin, holding a crossbar in his hands. "And no, it couldn't keep a Demon out, because I am now in." HAHAHA Get it? Cause granddad is the...Demon.

  "Nick Drago, Doctor Pym." He says, dropping the metal on the floor with a clank. "Once is random, a second is a pattern, third? They really want your ass, Phantasm. " Wade had long exited the room before Damian stepped in, but the Boy Wonder looked at Mike, a scowl on his face. "And yet, you cower. In a makeshift fortress that a fifteen year old could get through. Much less a fucking demon. We take this fight to them, spring a fucking trap on the Gentleman Ghost and his lackey. I have just the tools to do it." It also helps that one of those tools is an eight foot tall crimson bat dragon.

Michael Hannigan has posed:
Mike starts climbing down. "They're not normal security types, Hank.And Vorpal brought up Amanda previously but, one of the people-" He pauses, turning to look to the curtain, frowning. "Oh for Fu-"

REMEMBER THE CHILDREN!

Not the same! It's Robin. Look! He's even using that word!

Oh, well then, carry on!

"-ck's sake." He gestures around the place. "Not a fortress. A condo." He gestures to the bed, "Not cowering. Resting. Not my specialty. Outsourcing."

He sighs, "Aren't you teammates with Vorpal or something? He knows about this stuff."

Hank Pym has posed:
Hank Pym stops charging the wrist blaster, lowers his arm. He watches the interplay between the two. Then reaches into his pocket, pulls out a cold pack and tosses it to Mike. He takes a seat in a comfy looking chair, probably Wade's, judging from the size of the dent. He runs his fingers through his hair wondering why it hasn't begun falling out. "Crap on a cracker."

Damian Wayne has posed:
     "Yes. Yes. Semantics, of course you get more creative with words instead of how to use your powers." Robin approaches, with all that big hero energy he can muster. "The facts are, Phantasm. You are somehow, for reasons beyond my comprehension, desired by demons and a ghostly asshole. And you sit, in a condo. With almost nothing protecting you."

  Damian huffs, pulling out two cans of Morton's. "At least do this for fucks sake. Take this can and run it around the room." He pops open the can he had for himself, and starts to run a line of salt. "Connect it. If it is broken, you're fucked."

Michael Hannigan has posed:
Mike brings up a hand, moving it back to cushion the blow of the icepack hitting the palm. Fingers wrap around it to keep it from falling. Lifting it up, he sets it against the area where he MAY have met the ceiling earlier. "Thanks Hank."

Mike looks to the blue and white canister being extended out towards him. He shakes his head before taking it. "Thanks." He replies, glancing down to it, popping it open. He looks to Robin as he's already starting to run the line in one direction. "So, did Vorpal tell you anything?" He rests the can against his shoulder, using a finger to swing open the spout.

Hank Pym has posed:
Hank Pym watches the salt spreading interestedly. He taps his chin in thought. //Watch Mike, little friends. Mind the salt. Tell me if anyone wants to do him harm. ... oh that one means to help. Yes I know. He gets that reaction a lot, I imagine.//

Hank gives Robin a nod and says to Mike, "I will be back when I have something to contribute. Take care of yourself, Michael."

Damian Wayne has posed:
     Robin continues to spread a salt line around the baseboard, making sure to not break the line. "I did not ask." Because of course he didn't. "I read his article. And yes. He is a teammate of mine. But...we aren't exactly best of friends." Meaning, frenemies, it's getting better.

  Once Damian reaches the doorway, he crosses it, and Shakes the can of salt. "Keep it with you, in case shit happens, pour a circle around you. Demons don't all follow the same rules. But from what Batman had in the computer, this should keep you safe."

  "Doctor." Damian says with a nod, and just a smidge of a softening of his face. "I will have suggestions for defense." It may show now, but the reason Damian is in need of social education is because he lacks...bedside manner, on top of other things.

Michael Hannigan has posed:
Mike starts doing the salt lines going the opposite direction Damian is going, making sure to start it from where Damian did. Being that the boy wonder had a head start and Mike had more furniture against the wall to deal with, he just got to the extension of the wall that led to the bathroom door by the time Damian was already crossing the main doorway.

Mike looks over to the doctor getting up. "Thanks for coming by Hank."

The musician looks over to Robin after Hank heads out. "...Yeah I can kind of see that. Two different personalities right there." He glances back down to the floor near the bathroom door. Opting to first cover this room he continues the line towards the kitchen. "Well. He's planning to tag along on some concerts. Hopefully won't be much of that needed. I figure if it does happen again, it'd probably be post concert again when my energy's low, not here when I haven't burnt any." He pauses, considering the counter. "Apparently the demon was hired by the ghost and it's a low level one. As for motive, the first attempt did not end well for the ghost. Chased me and Hawkman into the wrong dream and got fried. So he's a bit pissed. But he managed to piss off a few on the way to the concert so we got that in our favor."

Damian Wayne has posed:
     Damian looks to the finished line, before speaking back up. "You will need more salt for the whole place. But salt is easily found."

  "He's pissed off me as well now. So there is that."

  "Speaking of assistance. You will need some security upgrades. And as Hank said, fifteen dollar an hour security will not work. I have a suggestion for you."

Michael Hannigan has posed:
Mike glances over to Damian, giving a half smile, "How about the one Gentleman Ghost TRIED to hire but couldn't afford for one?"

Damian Wayne has posed:
     "Couldn't afford? The guy is a notorious thief. Who couldn't he afford, and how much did they want?" Robin crosses his arms, perhaps Gentleman Ghost was not as good as his reputation said.

Michael Hannigan has posed:
"Apparently he also was cheap and rude to her boyfriend when negotiating. Also they apparently like my music. Either way. That time spent 'cowering' was time spent making sure pulling them in wouldn't cause a problem with the others. She didn't give her name." Mike pauses, "Reasons. But the guy was Catman."

Damian Wayne has posed:
     Robin's scowl softens, going to a laugh. "Catman?" More chuckles. "Catman. Well. That is...interesting." He isn't saying directly no, that it is a terrible idea. Not at all. "You have everyone rushing to help you, good guys, bad guys, and...Catman." A series of three claps follows Damian's banter. "Well done."

Michael Hannigan has posed:
Mike tilts his head to the display of laughter. "I wouldn't say everyone but...I think we might have more than enough of a response if Gentleman Ghost didn't get the hint last time. At some point he's going to have to realize it's not worth it."

Damian Wayne has posed:
     "Before I tell you this. Rest assured I will not be missing anything here. But I want in." Damian offers, before holding up a hand. "and I will not have to be Robin."

Michael Hannigan has posed:
Eyes set upon the hand Robin holds up before looking to the face of the owner. Mike is quiet as he considers the implications of the words. A brow raises.

"Previous incarnation instead?" He guesses. The kid did kind of give him a resume back in Malta. "I have no problem with it so long as there aren't problems with the others.". He pauses, "Catman is putting together a team- Crew for this. Not sure if he already has people in mind or still looking though."

Damian Wayne has posed:
     "Of a sort. But not the one you think." Damian steps forward, and on his gauntlet computer, a hologram shows the suit, black and metal, with a glowing red X on the face. "Red X. Can go and do things Robin and...The Demon's Hand cannot. Mainly due to my actual name."

  "But, Red X is known as someone with whom not to fuck with, 'hire' him on, and most with two neurons will not bother trying to do anything with you. Assert the name, or even The Demon's Hand, Ibn al Xu'ffasch: heir to Ra's al Ghul with Catman, and he should not have any qualms.

Michael Hannigan has posed:
Mike looks to the hologram being displayed and looks over to Robin. "So. Basically, Red X saw the news articles, saw some dollar signs and swung by offering his services. And I just call Catman back asking if he could use him for the crew?"

Damian Wayne has posed:
     "If you like. But insist. Or else I will just have to assure I show up. I am simply trying to avoid an overly dramatical show." Robin says, shrugging. "Either way, you are stuck with me, Phantasm."

  Not at all because he is a fan on top of a friend of Hank Pym. No sir.

Michael Hannigan has posed:
"Oh darn." Mike replies, blandly, "The horror." He chuckles slightly. "Alright. I'll go make another call."

There is a slight rattle to the door as someone starts to unlock it. "Jesus Hank, what's with all the sugar? I know I asked you to watch him but this is rid-" Wade stops questioning the salt lines when he looks up. The eldest man in the room stares at Robin.

Damian Wayne has posed:
     "Salt. Demon barrier." Zoom in on Robin's face. "Don't. Fucking. Break. The. Line."

  The teen pulls out something from his belt, looking like a large pill, in his thumb and pointer finger, right hand. In his left hand, is the neck of an air guitar.

  The right hand is pendulumed out from the body, up and down, head to midsection. It was unmistakable, the strum of Bill S. Preston, Esq. and Ted Theodore Logan.

  As soon as it was done, however, Robin throws the pill down to the ground, the cracking of glass, and a smoke quickly spreads about six feet around where it landed. The window allowed for the smoke to waft out and dissipate very quickly, leaving nary a stench or evidence of its being there. And he was gone, nowhere to be seen.