959/Breakfast with Bat and Cat

Breakfast with Bat and Cat
Date of Scene:	03 April 2020
Location:	The Garden Restaurant at the Four Seasons Hotel, Manhattan, NY
Synopsis:	Dr. Morbius has a Black Cat cross his path, but his luck might improve by it.
Cast of Characters:	Michael Morbius, Felicia Hardy

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Michael Morbius has posed:
The Four Seasons is one of the most famous five-star hotels in New York City, and the Garden, the outdoor restaurant, boasts a menu whose accolades are well-deserved, and it is here that Dr. Michael Morbius eats. The only downside is the sunlight. He is fortunate enough to find a corner table that will be in the shade for the next two hours.

The good doctor is eating Scrambled Eggs with thick slices of bacon, hash browns, sausage, and a naturaly-sweet orange juice. It's a relatively mess-less meal, which is good, because he also has his papers. Scan results, lists of biochemical agents, and other esoteric data that someone with no knowledge of biology would look like Ancient Egyptian.

Felicia Hardy has posed:
There is something liberating about staying at the Four Seasons. Home is lovely, when there isn't a relatively high chance of someone trying to slip in and kill a girl in her sleep that night. And on those nights, Felicia rather enjoys a foray into the city and the amenities of a luxury hotel.

This morning, Felicia is refreshed. Invigorated. She casually saunters into the restaurant, wearing a gunmetal blue silk chemise and black leather leggings with patent leather heels and a string of smoke silver pearls. She seats herself not far from the table claimed by the doctor who is going over papers that may or may not prove interesting to Felicia. Curiosity is stronger than instinct, sometimes.

Michael Morbius has posed:
Michael takes another bite, chewing thoughtfully as he goes over last night's results. He shakes his head as he goes over each line.

Lot 254, Variation 12: Cell Degradation slowed by 3.4 Percent. Result: FAIL.
Lot 254, Variation 13: Cell Degradation slowed by 0.4 Percent. Result: FAIL
Lot 254, Variation 14: Cell Degradation slowed by 5.6 Percent. Result: FAIL

FAIL. FAIL. FAIL.

He noticed his hand was trembling, and he closed it into a fist, crumpling the paper.

The age-old response of the dying. Please, God. Not Yet.

Felicia Hardy has posed:
Felicia is unable to ignore the response of the man at the next table, and she watches him openly, twisting her pearls idly in one hand.

"I've had mornings like that..." She cocks her head and tries to meet his eyes with her own aqua gaze. "Everything all right over there? You look like a man in crisis."

Michael Morbius has posed:
Michael looks up, seeming to notice her for the first time. He is struck by the hair, blonde to the point of snow-white. Recessive gene? Mutation? He remembered a paper somewhere...
Oh, dear. He's staring. She must think him some kind of lunatic. Wait, he's wealthy, that means he is eccentric.
Rich Man, Poor Joke.

The young man swallows, then ahems and smiles. "Uhm...pardon my rude behavior. I'm...yes, you could correctly call me a man in crisis. But I do not wish to bespoil your day with my own personal tragedies. It's bad enough they ruin *my* appetite at times. I..."

He takes a breath and stands. "My name is Dr. Michael Morbius."

Felicia Hardy has posed:
Felicia's expression, despite the cordial greeting, goes from curious to concerned. She rises and moves over toward his table in a graceful slink that is almost feline in its nature. She extends a hand, expertly manicured, but nails rather short and painted a shade of burgundy that suggests claret in its sparkling hue. "Felicia Hardy," she offers. "And don't apologize. Anything that could unravel a doctor is clearly a situation to beware. Tell me about your quandary over breakfast?" she purrs, flipping her silvery hair back over her shoulder.

Michael Morbius has posed:
Michael eyed her for a moment. "Well...only if you accept that it might be off-putting for breakfast conversation." He sits down again. "I'm...working on a very important project. The patient in question is suffering from a genetic disease called ALAD-Deficiency Porphyria. It is, quite frankly, life-threatening and the patient is entering the late stages of the disease." Michael sips his orange juice lightly. "...I'm working on a cure for the patient's condition, but I am making little progress."

Felicia Hardy has posed:
"A challenge, then. With dire consequences. I can see how that would affect you..." Perhaps, but not so much as the doctor seems to have been agitated. Unless the disease is afflicting someone for whom he cares a great deal. "I'm sorry. Don't be afraid to talk to me. I have an iron stomach." And iron claws. "Or if you prefer to put it from your mind awhile, I hope I may offer suitable distraction..."

Michael Morbius has posed:
Michael looks to Felicia. "Well...it does help to talk to someone about this that is not another academic. I am...at something of a crossroads. I have been notified that there is a reagent that is found in a South American animal, Diaemus youngi extremis. It hase taken awhile to find a colony where specimens could be taken without putting the coloby at risk, but there is a courier with four specimens currently flying up from Puerto Toro, Chile, by way of Costa Rica and Miami. I had to ask a member of the embassy to assign it diplomatic protection so that they would not be delayed for months in quarantine."

Felicia Hardy has posed:
Felicia arches a brow. "You must have some mighty strings on someone in order to pull them so." She seats herself at the table and sucks at her bottom lip for a moment. "What is it that this animal possesses, which no other has?" She levels her gaze on the doctor now, in the new light of the power he seems to wield in both his profession, and in the bureaucratic world.

Michael Morbius has posed:
Morbius smiles. It is a pained smile, but it is also a smile of hope.

"This particular animal has an enzyme I've called Sanguinarius-16, which can revitalize the part of the brain that regulates the production of aminolevulinic acid dehydratase, the deficient enzyme. The initial tests have been...very promising."

Felicia Hardy has posed:
"So...I am guessing that you are a doctor of science, and not a general medical doctor. Most doctors I know couldn't spell aminolevulinic acid dehydratase. Or if they could, I wouldn't be able to read it," she adds with a wink.

Michael Morbius has posed:
Michael smiles. "Actually, I received my doctorate in biochemistry, with focus on pathology. I tend to specialize in disease treatment and ocntrol. I've written quite a few papers on the subject."

He takes another couple of bites, but the second one is a little tricky because of the trembling hand. He notices it and sighs.

"I suppose I should disclose that I am the patient in question..."

Felicia Hardy has posed:
Felicia smiles faintly and looks from his trembling hand back up to his weary eyes. "You don't say," she replies softly. "I understand. I myself am in the business of acquiring the difficult-to-aquire. I should like to offer you my services, if at any point I may be of assistance." She studies him for a long moment, before adding, "I'd even waive my finder's fee, if you'd have dinner with me."

Michael Morbius has posed:
Michael raises an eyebrow slowly. "Well, Miss Hardy, although I seem to currently have what I need, who knows what the future will bring? And finder's fee or not, you are a very inriguing young woman. Very bold, very interesting. Like Atalanta, the mythic Greek runner." He sits up. "I suppose we shall have to arrange something. I have lived here a year and the best I can manage is knowing where the best Szechuan takeout places are."

Felicia Hardy has posed:
Felicia smiles brightly, and shakes her head. "Well, it would be the least I could do, to contribute to such a noble cause. Life is sacred, and fleeting enough, as it is. Besides, I'd rather know where my contributions are going. These days, half the charity donations in the world go into a handful of very deep pockets."