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 Model Scientist (open)

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PostSubject: Model Scientist (open)    Wed May 08, 2013 7:06 pm

There was a cacophony of noise when he opened the entryway doors, a flood of activity and brightness and sunlight that glittered off the edge of his glasses, reflected into his tightly squinted eyes. 'Bleached' was a good word for it; With the white-washed buildings littered with gray blobs of shadow, reflections of pale glass windows bouncing off every skyscraper and the ever present opague forms of people walking up and down the streets, you wouldn't know the sun was setting, or what time it was. He knew, but that was only because he was glancing at his watch while he shut the door behind him, and kept tabs on it even neck deep in the thick of the sidewalk crowds, leaving the Oscorp Tower.

Normally Connors didn't walk out until late - when it was better to take a taxi cab rather than chance a walk into the dark streets of New York City - but for once the scientist was early, which was not something he wanted to be. The moments leading up to leaving at sunset had been a slow day, and had ended with logging another unproductive theory into the databanks of Oscorp's Interface system, another theory he had been just so sure of being right. Lost another lab rat in the process. Yet at the same time, leaving it was a breath of fresh air. The Oscorp Tower, with all its impressive 108 stories staring down at the streets of Manhattan, was an oppressive force both outside and inside its walls. He could almost feel the sense of eyes pressing into his back.

There were many paranoid theories about Oscorp Industries. Silly rumors, but many all the same. He didn't want to think about them right now.

People pressed in from both sides, a thickening crowd developing as workers flew out of buildings, aiming for the cabs and city buses, heading down into the subway or mulling about in large travelling groups. He pulled the folder tucked into his arm towards his chest, ducked left and found a side street meandering away from the rush hour traffic. Away from the noise. Trapping the folder under his chin, he wrestled with the document until he managed to readjust it back safely under his left arm. To his right, his jacket sleeve was limp and rested against his side.

Connors never stopped thinking about science, to be honest. It seemed to dominate his mind, his motives, and even walking away from Oscorp there were new theories, new hypothesis, new variables surfacing every minute that he was further away. Dr.Ratha had simply chalked it up to calling it "the genius's curse", and though Curt didn't think of himself as a true genius, as there were many brilliant minds more sophisticated than his own, he understood it as what it simply was - a curse. And the only cure was that he needed to take his mind off of it for awhile, rest and drink something, a coffee most likely. Before he could develop a headache. And finish this project.

Easier said than done.

Oscorp had taken a look at his work and he was now working on a regenerative formula, had been working on it on and off for the better part of a year, studying and researching the effects of combining the DNA of lizards with that of other lifeforms. Results had become less than pleasant, with too many miscalculations and redrafts, and he was constantly at a stalemate, unable to move any further until he could figure out a new variable and determine a new approach. Oscorp had been generous to give him their funding, their interest, a small staff of interns. They had told him that he was too valuable to get rid of, and his work on their other projects had been buying him time and renown not just within the facility but out in New York as well, stapling him as one of the top Herpetologists in the US. It came at a cost. They wanted a deadline, which at this point Connors could not determine. Stress headaches never helped. For now he would continue, log any progress and work on other assignments until his next breakthrough in cross-genetics.

Slowly, this was becoming a slippery slope, but at this point what could he do? One mind working alone could only solve so much. What he needed was not an intern, but another brain. Or at least something new to bring to the table. There was something missing from his studies, a missing link of sorts that kept him awake, kept him thinking and wondering and operating. The possibilities were endless, and with it the failures were nearly impossible to weed out.

Being in the spotlight only made it worse.

Which reminded him - he slowed to a relaxed pace - he would be appearing as a "Spotlight Scientist" next week for one of the classes at Midtown High School. All to help fund the science labs, of course, and personally to inspire the students there as to the potential of cross-genetic experimentation. Connors smiled, a tired one but a smile none the less. If there was something to look forward too... His arm brushed against someone's coat, nearly bumping into someone on the street in the process.

"My apologies." He muttered, snapping out of his thoughts, his folder sliding out from under his arm. It fell with a flat clap to the floor.

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PostSubject: Re: Model Scientist (open)    Wed May 08, 2013 9:02 pm

A sleeve brushed against Jake's side and a worn yet kind voice apologized for colliding with him even though he barely had bumped into the Jake. He turned toward the man, "All is well, I wasn't minding my path anyways." he said with a smile, his right arm hefting up his bulking back pack. His mind had been in the clouds, thinking of the loss of his recent love flame Ki, how nothing seemed to be happening in the hero world that needed him, how Carter only contacted every once in a while to touch base, and lastly how Dusk had been M.I.A. for about a year now since the D.C. attacks. These were the common day thoughts of the youth.

He looked at the man whom he had spoken to only to realize, much to his shock, that it was renowned Biological Scientist Dr. Connor's. His jaw hung limply before he stooped down to pick up a folder the man had dropped, his eyes wishing they possessed X ray vision so he could read the words hidden under the manilla folder, but he handed it over to the Doctor, steering clear of his right sleeve which housed no arm. He didn't want to appear disrespectful.

"Look at my luck, on my first ever extended visit to the Big City I run into you of all people Dr. Connor's, I know this must sound annoying and you must hear it all the time but I find your theories on cellular regeneration riveting. I love how you use the lizard as the precursor idea for regeneration but I have always been fond of the star fish, having the ability to be cut in half and sprout two new halves from each wound. have you looked into the idea of maybe combining the two traits?" he said, his mouth going into over drive, his worst flaw was his obsession with all things nerdy, science, heroes, reading, heroes again, and finally science......

He cleared his throat and looked around, feeling like a fool because of course Dr. Connor's would have thought to try such strands, his feet shuffled a bit before he made a half step, "Well... I'll be off now, I apologize for my out burst Doctor." he said before heading the way he had been before the brief encounter.

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PostSubject: Re: Model Scientist (open)    Wed May 08, 2013 11:07 pm

A man in blue armor raced through the skies at night, fists moving through the shadows and then the man slammed to a building. He slowly got to his feet and was dressed in a blue, skinny armor with his muscles showing a bit. he looked about as his red cloak moved backward. He had red boots and a red belt.





Slowly he looked down to his right and leaped up, and floated down, pressing a button on his belt and the suit moved into it and he stood there in a red hoodie, blue eyes with glasses like Clark Kent. This man was not Clark Kent.. not the original Superman.



He fixed his red hood and walked down the streets, wondering about. He had visited New York to take photos of people, the boss of Metropolis Daily Planet made him since Superman had died.. But now there was a new one..
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PostSubject: Re: Model Scientist (open)    Wed May 08, 2013 11:52 pm

Whoever he had bumped into had a massive backpack.

Underneath, if he strained over the sharp reflections of light burning a hole in his eyelids, he could see the hanging jaw of a young man - Connors assumed he was a student - turning a pale shade of skin color remarkably fast. And he was now muttering something along the lines of an apology, slowly bending down under the strain of the strap tied around one arm, reaching for a familiar manila folder that Connors was just now realizing he had lost. The biologist stiffened, concern flashing over his face as he took back his documents, gingerly placing them back in the crook of his arm as best as he could manage. He'd been lucky this time, and didn't exactly want to chance losing his data again.

Connors had ran into fans before; Not too often mind you but with his current status in Oscorp's ranking scientists and the sheer population of living in this concrete jungle known as New York there was bound to be a few encounters here and there. Never got used to them. It was unfortunate that the majority of them wanted to know more about the incident; Did it hurt? Do you know who caused it? Which superhero saved you? He answered truthfully every time. Yes it hurt. No he wasn't sure who caused it. No superhero saved him; He was picked up by an emergency team. Blunt, to the point, let's move on please.

To hear someone interested in the formula itself, his studies, was a blessing in disguise.

"I don't mind a good point when I hear one." He replied, his smile returning. "And I would be happy to answer it if you don't mind sparing a minute. Just know that I'm not one to give out any autographs."

The offer had slipped out before he could think it through. Maybe it was just the fact that he wanted to talk about something other than his failures for today, or just being overly susceptible to flattery (he couldn't help but feel proud of his accomplishments, any sane scientist would, and it wasn't like he was Tony Stark - who probably dealt with these people all the time), but the offer was out there.

As he looked expectantly for an answer, he couldn't help but feel as if the eyes from Oscorp Tower were still pressing into his back. He tried to ignore it. That was proving to be difficult.


Last edited by Dr.Connors on Thu May 09, 2013 11:19 am; edited 5 times in total
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PostSubject: Re: Model Scientist (open)    Thu May 09, 2013 8:28 am

Jake stopped in his tracks when Connor's invited him for a chat, he turned around and nodded, "I have a few minutes to spare if you want to talk a bit." He said happily, thinking about possible answers to the theory he had spit out on mistake. His right shoulder shifting to adjust the pack before he stepped back toward Dr. Connors and stopping a few feet away, leaving ample space between the two to not make it weird. His mind coursing with many different ideas on the topic of the regeneration of starfish lost limbs.

"During the regeneration periods the starfish releases high amounts of dopamine and serotonin, but first you have to have the responses of stem cells which need neuron triggers to even activate. But my question is how to get the neuron's to trigger....." he said, his left hand coming up and rubbing his chin thoughtfully, his eyes looking off into nothingness before he focused back in on the doctor for a response.

His ADHD was messing with him hard, one moment thinking about his lost friends and team, the next thinking about the depth of cellular regeneration of a starfish. Mental defections could be fun sometimes.


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PostSubject: Re: Model Scientist (open)    Thu May 09, 2013 8:00 pm

“Let’s take a look at that again…,” the young boy murmured. The dull yellow light of his desk lamp outlined a perfect circle around his paperwork. The stack was mangled and bent from constant shuffling and crumpling. He peered through his glasses down at the mess; the papers elevated due to their damaged states. His skin began clammy thinking of the difficult task of finding the singular page within the horrendous mess.


“All geniuses are slobs Peter, but please make an effort to clean every once in awhile!”


Aunt May’s word were beginning to sound appealing at that moment in time. He chuckled slightly at his flustered state. His tiny elbows kneeled down on the wooden desk top and pressed his knuckles to his cheek. A heavy sigh escaped out his lips as he tackled the terrible trash heap he knew as his research.





Peter shuffled drearily through his research, his sketches smothering the specific item he was looking for. Anywhere from brief drawings to entire full drawings with the sketch painted wonderfully were cascaded across the table. There was a yellow gleam in his glasses as he lifted a fully painted sketch of his suit.





A feint smile crossed his cheeks.


“Should go to art school at this rate…!” He chirped in his mind. Peter gripped the incredible art with his thumb for a few moments. With a chuckle, he tossed the painting aside, the air catching it and letting it fall to the carpet like a feather. Art school was far too much money for him anyways. Heck, he hadn’t even graduated yet. However, it seemed with his 4.0 GPA, every college wanted him. Some of these of course charging over a thousand dollars per credit hour. This was far beyond “too rich for my blood” level. It was already a daily stress to pay school fees for Pete’s senior year. Aunt May often scoffed at the idea of “free education” when it robbed you dry every second it got. Aunt May was a sweet old aunt, but when someone threatened Peter, she became a monster that no man would desire to mess with.


The young, brown hair boy hooked his ankles around each other as he ran his hand through his hair, stressed with the current task. He tossed aside sketch after sketch; some were indescribable blotches, some would make Van Gogh cry with jealousy. It didn’t matter to the the intellectual Parker. Science had always been his calling, no matter how appealing art became at times. Peter was quite adept on both sides of his mind. However, his left side was clearly more dominant. The Midtown High School Student would more often find himself dabbling in strange chemistry equations rather than sitting in an Art Club. It was nothing personal against art. It was just the fact that he personally had so much more interest for the world of science. Science meant creation! Science meant knowing the world and how it works! This was vastly more important than simply, recapturing it on a canvas, right?


Although, Pete knew he could completely diminish the importance of art, or any other subject for that matter. Matter of fact, subjects like Math, go hand in hand with the heart of science. You ever been in a chemistry class? It’s all about equations and numbers of elements and how they react to each other. Its about how certain levels and amounts of one element reacts with a certain amount of another. For example, Sodium Chloride is salt. Sodium Chloride is a combination of Na and Cl, hence making NaCl. However, when added to water, there are no new compounds formed because H20 forces NaCl to dissolve into it. So instead of having a compound, we instead end up with an addition problem!


NaCl(s) + H2O(l) = Na+(aq) + Cl-(aq)


Peter knew never to be as arrogant as to completely dismiss other subjects. You never know when one will become handy in the other. If Parker had never been handy in art, his suit probably would have been incredibly dull and look more like a trash bin than a heroic role-model. If not for his knowledge of physics and chemistry, his web shooters would be a work of imagination.


“Speaking of which, where is my sketch of those things?!” Peter exclaimed to himself. He quickly went into hyper mode, sliding papers to the side like some automated machine. Several pictures of Spider-Man and the various math involved in its creation went flying off onto the floor beside him. The bright young man gasped suddenly.





“There those blasted things are!” He chuckled, picking up the detailed sketch of his web shooters. He lifted the grid sheet up to his glasses, studying the paper before looking down to his project on his right. A smile of approval creamed across his cheeks. His project was another set of web-shooters. Peter had done some equations having to do with pressure in order to extend the distance to which he could fire his artificial webbing. He quickly slid out the wooden desk drawer. The boy’s hands shuffled past his unused contacts case and over to the the gray canisters. The tubes were no wider than a pencil and about as long as the index finger. Pete hooked the web-shooter apparatus onto his wrist. The black metal clicked together and he released a solemn smile.


“Time to see if my math added up!”
He spoke, almost quaking from nervousness. Peter remembered the first time he tried this, the web cartridges exploded all over his face. It was definitely embarrassing. The boy was glad he was the only one who knew he was Spider-man.


He lifted his hand slowly up into the air at a one hundred and twenty degree angle. He bent down his middle and ring finger down towards the pressure plate. Peter had designed the apparatus to only trigger with the exact amount of pressure from those two fingers alone. This was necessary in order to prevent Spidey from spraying webbings while forming a fist or being injured in the wrist. Yet again, another modification made from a humorous error made in the first attempt. It was certainly not humorous for Peter and frustrating at times. However, it never stopped the young scientist, not even in the slightest. Peter knew in his heart that science was a work of trial and error. You think the first ship to space was a success. It is well known that when Sputnik was first launched, America went into a nationwide panic over the idea that the Soviet Union had achieved space travel first. Following this event, instead of working to improve our knowledge as a society, the United States began working out of fear of the USSR. This resulted in tons among tons of failed launches. Most of these attempts never even made it off the launch pad.


However, today, we have the International Space Station. Through trial and error, our space technology improved. For the most of the 2000s, there were plenty of shuttle expeditions that any man interesting in the field would be proud of. We overcame our failures. We made trial, and we had errors. However, it is in these errors that you find what you did wrong and can improve the greatest.


Images crossed his mind...








He sighed...


“Trial and Error...” Peter spoke to himself. He opened his window and pressed his inner fingers down onto the trigger.


“Peter!”
He heard a foreign voice. The young boy turned suddenly as a there was a knock at the door. His hand turned in unison, silky webbing splattering across his door. Pete’s skin went cold as he looked down as the string of webbing. In a panic, he snipped the webline and dove into his chair with his arachnid reflexes. In a blur, the boy was huddled against his desk, pencil in hand.





Aunt May slowly cracked the door open, a loud whine coming from the henges. Thankfully, all of the webbing was tucked behind the door, woefully out of his aunt’s vision. She looked down at him with a perplexed look.


“Peter,” her voice kindly spoke, “You have mail from that school of yours.”


Pete smiled at his Aunt with ache in his heart. As he gazed upon her, he saw the heavy bags beneath her eyes. The young boy was not naive. He saw the changes Uncle Ben’s passing had on her. Her hair had faded from a few silver lines to a white bun. A kind outline of her face had become wrinkles. It had only been a few months, but Aunt May had grown five years in that time. It hurt Peter in a way he couldn’t really place his finger on. It was the reason he wasn’t enthusiastic about moving away for college later that year. He swore that May needed him. After all, he was the last essence of the Parker lineage. Peter Benjamin Parker was the last living memory of the Uncle he once cherished every day. He still would until he too, was in a grave. The young man was just thankful that his memory of Ben did not hurt May, but only comforted her wounded soul. Its why Peter only met her with bright smiles, no matter how he was feeling or what he was up to. His happiness brought a smile to Aunt May’s face and that’s all she needed to get through another day without sorrow.That was what was most important.


Peter rolled his sleeves down, cleverly covering the web-shooter on his left arm.


“What do they want?” He inquired, standing from his seat and walking over to his withering Aunt. She smiled somberly as her beloved nephew retrieved the mail from her frail hands. The way he wore his glasses reminded her so much of Ben. She hoped that one day Peter would be as wise and strong willed as her husband once was. It was a fond thought.


“Apparently, your test scores last semester on your genetics portion qualified you for an audience with a...Oh dear... Dr. Curt Connors! That was his name!” May’s flustered mind finally reached her lips. Peter’s head cracked like a whip.


“Doctor Connors?? The Genetics Genius?? No Way!”
Peter laughed at the news that one of the science world’s most innovative and in-genius scientists would be coming to Midtown High! He smiled at the memory that not many in his senior class did well on that portion, meaning that it’d be close to just the famous geneticist and him! What did he


“What does he want with our school? Maybe he wants an assistant!!” He cheered with excitement. It was almost as if he’d entered a dream world. One moment he was fooling with a pet project, another he was going to be rushed into the sophisticated world of genetic engineering! It was invigorating! Peter’s face lit up like a light bulb as he quickly dashed back to his desk. He completely wiped the entire desktop, all of his papers sliding to the carpet in a violent heap.


“Peter! What a mess!” His Aunt exclaimed.


“Sorry Aunt May!,”
Pete chirped, lifting a once heavily buried book to his eyes,” I need to get my stuff down if I’m going to be talking to the best geneticist on the planet!”

Aunt May grimaced once Peter’s nose hit the books, remembering a time when his father and Curt worked side by side...

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PostSubject: Re: Model Scientist (open)    Thu May 09, 2013 9:18 pm


Trickles of people were filtering out of shops. Most of them came from the Starbucks a block down. Pockets of people swarmed around Connors and the young man. He stepped out of their way to talk with the student, who had taken to his offer.

In a space near the wall of a shop, the two could have blended into the growing crowd if it weren't for the folder tucked neatly into one's arm and the other's oversized backpack, which the student shifted to his other shoulder. Connors would have offered to help him if his folder hadn't slipped out beforehand; He couldn't let these documents go, wouldn't loosen his grip.

Inside were a great many blueprints, documentation for the last lab experiments, and more theories he would develop back at his home office. Among them were trivial things nestled within the data - new canister concepts for example (one thing about Oscorp was that they liked to feature their brand name on everything) - but the majority were important to him. This recent batch could have more potential than he'd been dwelling upon earlier.

So he scanned the street for somewhere to sit down. Eyeing the outside tables of the Starbucks he'd noticed earlier, he slowly started walking that way, "It's funny you should mention that organism in particular; the sea star and the cnidarian hydra were both focuses on my first studies in regenerative cross-genetics. Unfortunately, the concept of using them, or any invertebrate for the matter, diminished with the data. They are both capable of going through the process of Morphallaxis, which-" He sighed, "-is where the problem lies with using their DNA. It is unstable, too far removed from mammalian genetic code. They rearrange and transfer tissues similar to bacteria; Results are abnormally low and the cells produced are...limited. Primitive, to say the least. We needed something closer, something that wouldn't have such a limitation. I guess you could say the simpler the form, the less incompatible with our own species, the harder to integrate into our genetic code. And not to mention rejection of the foreign neural cells."

Connors stopped on the street corner, the sign glaring red. It seemed to bleed into the foreground, turned pallid in the reflections of scattered daylight that swept across Manhattan. Red dots of light gleamed over the edges of his glasses, soured his vision. "Epimorphosis, the regeneration of wounds inflicted upon an outside source, say a cut, is what we are trying to achieve. Imagine the lives that could be saved by it. In mere hours, depending on the scenario, entire appendages completely repaired and functional. Amphibians, though incompatible, are a prime example of epimorphosis. Which brings us to Herpetology, the study of reptiles - the closest we have to our own DNA and least amount of restriction. Of course, experimentation the past year have been practically overflowing with genetic complications, and there's always the issue with PETA."

Light turning green, Connors resumed walking, his folder kept close to his side. At this point he caught himself muttering and glanced back at his watch. Wasn't sure how many times he had done that so far today. "I apologize - I've gone off on a tangent. But I hope that answers at least part of your question. Would you like a coffee? I seem to have a lot of time on my hands this evening..."
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PostSubject: Re: Model Scientist (open)    Fri May 10, 2013 8:04 am

He listened thoughtfully as he walked next to the esteemed Doctor, absorbing as much as he could, getting lost only once about how the simple DNA cannot work with something as complex as the human DNA, it making him think of a possibility but wanting to wait until the crowd of people left them in their wake, not wanting to be over heard and possibly upsetting someone.

His arm clutched his pack in a death grip, not wanting to drop it and embarrass himself in front of Connors. The man walked to the edge of the street, Jake stopping next to him as he spoke, his feet dancing on the edge of the curb, hanging from the lip of safety onto the edge of peril. Inwardly he scolded himself for allowing his mind to be torn away and he came back into focus to catch the tail end of how amphibians were a good source but incompatible in the end.

The red light that stuck out like a ruby surrounded by coal shifted to green, his eyes adjusting without any reaction. The Doctor speaking about getting coffee, 'Yeah I could go for a cup of coffee, honestly right now I feel like this is a dream. First I run into one of my favorite minds of this life and casually discuss cellular regeneration and now I'm having coffee with him." He said, smiling a bit before shaking his head like he couldn't believe his luck. As they crossed the street he saw the smiling face of the woman in the Starbucks symbol, the crown over her head with a green semi circle above her. Within the store front windows he could see only a few people and he counted another lucky star, they would most likely be uninterrupted while they spoke.

He hurried past Connor's toward the door to open it for the man, nodding as he stepped out of the way with the door held wide open for the man to enter through with Jake coming up behind him, still managing to hold onto his idea.

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PostSubject: Re: Model Scientist (open)    Fri May 10, 2013 10:35 pm

Connors chuckled softly and crossed the street, just behind the student. "It's not often, no. Let's just say that not many people have given me the opportunity." The two were closing in on the Starbucks; Just outside of it were a collection of circular tables - since summer closed in they were being pulled out again. One of these became free, and he made a note of it. The student moved quickly to open the door, prying the handle open and struggling under the backpack in the process. Knuckles were white on the straps, held in a death grip. He glanced at the backpack before walking in, thanking the man - who was probably about to drop from the weight of the pack (back in college Connors learned to understand just how heavy a backpack could be) - before he stepped inside.

Lights were on low inside the Starbucks, relaxed and strewn about were customers, either lounged or typing on slim notebooks. There had been a lingering smell of caffeine just outside the cafe, but now within the building itself it came in full force. Almost overwhelming if you had been stuck in a sterile lab all day, yet definitely welcome. The doctor could use a coffee at this moment.

A short queue waited patiently while a flurry of movement behind the counter revealed the baristas, straining under the thinning rush hour. Everywhere were Starbucks labels; Manhattan was big on advertisements and logos dating from the 70's mingled with their modern redesigns, a great many pairs of siren eyes staring back at the customers while they drank. Being inside also seemed to make those paranoid delusions of Oscorp Tower the conspiracists always leeched upon fade away from his mind, and he took this moment to rub at his eyes, adjusting to the darkness.

Just being inside felt relaxed, comfortable, and quiet. Course, this was probably just the tiredness talking. At last he could hear his own thoughts; The lab could be just as silent when the interns were not around and there had been a great many of them today. The numbers only seemed to grow as Oscorp advertised their particular brand of science.

Which was good. He could always use an extra person, though unfortunately the majority of NYC's best and brightest did not seem to know the definition of Herpetology, or have a clue on cross-species genetics. A shame really. Lucky was he, to be talking to a young mind who appeared to know just as much as the colleagues in Oscorp that the doctor worked with.

Once again he was going off-topic.

The queue was growing shorter. Amidst the calmness his voice was low, "Of course, with Oscorp's funding there may be a great deal of chance that we will develop a combination of cross-genetics treatment. These are only the very beginnings of cross-genetic potential after-all...Oh." They were now standing at the front of the line. Connors cut himself off to order his own coffee, reaching his arm down (minding the folder) to slip out his wallet.

"Um, Nearly forgot to ask. How do you take it?" He asked, shelling out a couple of five dollar bills.
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PostSubject: Re: Model Scientist (open)    Sat May 11, 2013 11:54 am

Jake stood next to the doctor, already having his wallet in hand as the man spoke, listening quietly until the point where he cut out to order his coffee, then turning back to him to ask how he took his coffee, " Decaf, two creams. Small." he said, handing over a ten dollar bill, knowing he would receive change. His nose adjusting to the roasted smell of coffee beans and the sweet lingering scent of the pastries sitting behind the glassed counter tops.

He took a moment to look at them only to realize they didn't look as good as they smelled, their names being odd and the chunks of fruit sticking out of them in such chaotic ways being displeasing to his stomach. He moved to a near by table to deposit his pack before returning to the cashier to gather his change, it being about five dollars and sixty cents. He knew that here in the big city they had highers prices and he merely shrugged inwardly before putting the loose change in his right back pocket.

He stood beside the Doctor and waited for his coffee, allowing the man to gather his first before he latched onto his own small cup, thanking himself for remembering to order decaf so not to get hyper around the man whom he was discussing such a fun topic with. Once finished he guided the Doctor toward the table where he threw down his hulking pack and sat in one of the cushioned arm chairs, leaving the other open for the man to join him. " Oscorp does have a large pool of money from my understanding, but it's also my understanding that the more a company gives you the more they want to order you into what you're making. Maybe I'm wrong about them and I hope I am but just be mindful, also I was thinking of something on the walk in here. Well five something's, the Fantastic Four and Doctor Bruce Banner, the five people who are most well known for being exposed to gamma radiation, it made me think about how their DNA shifted around with the adding of the gamma rays. I then came to a thought of adding minute amounts of gamma radiation to the lizard gene's in hopes of making them more complex so they could fit a better compatibility or a more radical idea, obtain a DNA sample from a willing mutant that has gene's the work in regeneration and hope that they fit well with the human DNA strand, which they might since they are only a few more chromosomes complex...." He said, his voice dying off at the end with a drink of his coffee. The rich warmed roast gliding over his tongue and down his throat.



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PostSubject: Re: Model Scientist (open)    Sat May 11, 2013 1:35 pm

He paid for his drink, a medium coffee -black - and settled into the other chair, trying to balance the folder and the cup in one hand before he settled into the seat and let the folder rest against the arm of the chair. His right sleeve slumped into his lap, ignored while he sipped from the cup in his left, listening to the student. Connors could feel the folder's corner digging into his side, and he put down the cup on the table for a minute to readjust it, still ever attentive.

When the student finally slid off his hold from the backpack, he seemed to be a completely different person. The doctor found it comical, the huge bag slumped against the wall while its bearer slouched into his seat - tired. Both of them were. He leaned forwards in his seat, regarding the man carefully.

Oscorp had become a pressure cooker room ever since the past two months. They had given him his own department within the facility, though his research time was constantly impeded with herding around interns to teach them how to use the Interface and the basics of maintaining an effective lab, he knew that he should be farther in his experimental phase than still routinely checking the reference books. Routinely changing the parameters and variables, erasing and undoing previous data that had become unstable and tried to correct it. Sometimes the mouse would live and sometimes the mouse in the virtual Interface would drop dead. It was a lot of typing and a lot of straining to see the LED holographic mouse with the right leg missing fall into death or not be effected in the slightest.

At the spearhead of it was Dr.Ratha. They met each month for a summary of experimentation - a scientist and a former scientist-turned businessman. The representative was friendly, showed enthusiasm, but the facade that everything was a-okay had began to drop in the last two months. Dr.Ratha now constantly reminded Connors of how many lives were being claimed each month of inactivity, how many people lost their limbs to disease, to explosion, to superhero interventions. What if something happened to their CEO? What if another repeat of the incident during that war came once again? Another 40-something bodies littering the sands around the doctor... Guilt twisted Connors stomach into a knot - he sipped his coffee again, an image of a soldier's mangled body coming to mind.

Pausing, he decided to decline to speak anymore about Oscorp.

"Gamma radiation..." Connors laced his fingers together, the cup back on the table, "Bruce Banner and the Fantastic Four were mutated incredibly due to their exposure, but I understand that it would be an interesting approach to transforming the lizard genomes we currently have. Actually it is a brilliant idea, the more I think on it. But the question is how can we control the mutation, the rays themselves and how they mutate the lizard DNA? We've seen the effects of uncontrolled radiation - for instance Mister Fantastic's unusual elasticity properties. Unless we had some form of energy manipulation, how can we be sure of the effects that the gamma will induce to the serum, or its reaction with another organism?"

What they needed was some form of manipulator. A conductor of sorts.


Last edited by Dr.Connors on Mon May 13, 2013 9:24 pm; edited 1 time in total
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PostSubject: Re: Model Scientist (open)    Sat May 11, 2013 7:46 pm

Christopher.. once known as Cadmus and his most important name.. Superman, moved through the streets of New York, he removed his glasses and closed his eyes just a bit and looked up at the sky. He fixed his bag that was latched around his shoulder with his laptop in it and squinted down at an ally way where a man continued to harass the woman. This city never slept.. it wasn't like Metropolis.

Simply people that wanted Money.. Sex.. then how was Las Vegas? Christopher Kent slowly walked down the ally way and his eyes glowed a bit red. There he was ready to pop his skull in two. But there he understood and wondered. Would Superman kill this innocent person, would the real one do this? And then he understood that he was not Cadmus anymore.. he was not the bad guy.

"Get away from her."
Kent put on his glasses and looked at the man, and stepped up. The girl raised her eyebrow, she was scared, but was unsure this man in the round glasses could save her from being hurt by this man. "Hey.. kid. The hell do you think you're doing! Out of here before I kick your ass too!"

Chris stood his ground, and slowly said, in a soft, but serious tone. "Get.. Away.. from.. her." Chris stood there, blinking. The man removed a knife from his back pocket, and sent it to the chest of Chris. The knife bent and pierced the skin of the attacker because of how far it went. He looked at the Kryptonian in disguise in disbelief and dropped it. He growled and grabbed his gun from his back pocket and fired at Chris.

The bullet moved through the air, pushing through air as flames followed behind it because of how fast it went, it sparked through the air. Chris could have easily dodged it, but he simply stood there, and had a small smile.

The piece of metal slammed into the eye of Chris and it got crunched up into a small little pellet, it slammed to the ground. Kent kicked it with his foot, then looked back up at the criminal. He ran off down the ally, as if he was a cartoon character. The woman screamed and ran off. Slowly he turned and walked away, once more.
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PostSubject: Re: Model Scientist (open)    Sun May 12, 2013 9:42 pm



"Whoa whoa! Hey! Hold up there bud! You don't go taking bullets like the guy was shooting spitballs!" A bright voice chirped.

Cadmus quickly found himself halted as man suddenly jolted down in front of him. Except, this wasn't any normal man. He was dressed from head to toe in red and blue garb, smothered in spider web designs. His hand had jolted outward towards Chris in an attempt to halt his exit from the alleyway.

"I saw what you did sir, very brave stuff. I know I should be well.. Congratulating you for being a good citizen and being the REAL hero out of the two of us but...,"
His bright voice commented, brining his outreached hand back up to the long strand of webbing that he was hanging from. The hero's feet were clasped together as if in prayer around the stringy webbing. His hands suddenly jolted outward both directions. The motion signified that he was protesting greatly.

"...HOW ON EARTH DID YOU CRUSH A BULLET WITH YOUR EYEBALL?!" The superhero exclaimed loudly, his annoying voice echoing off the walls of the alley. His right hand clasped the webbing strand as his other began making sparatic motions, emphasizing his hyper emotions as he spoke.

"Lemme guess, Bullet proof contacts right? Can you hook me up? You could never tell at a glance, but beneath the mask, your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man actually has trouble with his eyesight. I think a pair of those would be rather handy. You never know who'd wanna shoot you for not being able to read things far away!"
The bright hero poked fun at the man, but beneath the jokes was legitmately perplexed at the incredible feat this strange man had just performed.

"Not real talkative are you? Its not every day you get to meet Spider-Man without someone trying to hurt, maim, or kill you! SPEAK UP MAN!"
Spidey contiued his elated speech. Both his hands attatched to the web strand and eagerly awaited the response of the very strange incinvible man.

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PostSubject: Re: Model Scientist (open)    Sun May 12, 2013 10:12 pm

Christopher stopped, and turned and quickly moved his hand to his eye.. then his cheek and looked at the man in red, and slammed to his knees. He saw that this Super-hero had saw him do what he had just did. Well.. he was a hero also, would it be safe to tell him who he was? Or was this guy in some kind of disguise?

"O-oh, I got h-hit in the jaw! I'm fine I can hear the police and the uh.. ya know the uh.." Chris started to be a little scared and stared at the man in the suit. He gritted his teeth. What could he do? The man who talked a lot in the mask was there in front of him, asking multiple questions in the same time. Who the hell was THIS guy? He could easily get past the voice he was trying to mask over his own, hearing several cracks in his voice.

The cracks like a teenagers.. and his body was too, a buff.. but somewhat skinny teenager in a suit. He removed his glasses and got to his feet, putting them away and then backing away. "Hey, get back here you criminal!" He pointed behind the one in the suit, then he turned and leaped up, taking off.

He moved through the night sky and moved his fist up, his hair began to move through the wind. Then he noticed he was going back down. The Superman music inside of his head began to go down hill; just like he was doing right now! He crashed onto a car and laid there, the horn continued through the dark alleyway as the lights blinked. He lay there in disbelief.

He rolled off of the car and pushed it away, staggering as several people stared at the car. Christopher moved around the corner and covered his head.. What the hell just happened?
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PostSubject: Re: Model Scientist (open)    Tue May 14, 2013 7:55 am

(OOC I apologize for the hold up, busy weekend ): ))


He took another sip of his coffee before clearing his throat, "The answer also comes from established science, Tony Stark. His Arc Reactor contains massive amounts of energy and can give them out in controlled bursts, Banner, form my understanding, was creating a prototype that failed that led to his exposure and the four didn't make a mistake, they were just in the wrong place at the right time. A reactor could channel the gamma rays but you would need Stark's assistance on this project, I'm sorta lacking in the knowledge of reactor's and radiation exposing of genes." he said, embarrassed of his lack of info on the subject that he had started. His head hung low toward the end of his words before he managed to pull his composure together and finish his coffee off for good.

His hands plucked and pulled at the frayed edges of his pack's strap from under the small table between the two men as he awaited a response that could dismiss him. His mind shifting slightly back to his missing partner Ki, the mutant girl had gone MIA on him weeks ago and he often found himself thinking about her and trying to find a path that would lead to finding out where she went and what had happened too her, Damn it Jake, back on topic. He thought to himself, scolding his mind for changing paths like that, centering back in on the topic at hand.

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PostSubject: Re: Model Scientist (open)    Tue May 14, 2013 5:48 pm

ooc: That's fine with me. Thanks for letting me know. :)

Reaching for his coffee, Connors noted that he'd finished it during the student's explanation. He nodded, shifting in his seat, ready to leave for home. It had grown late outside - it looked as though he'd be taking the taxi again. "I understand; I've never considered using radiation either, and I won't waste your time with my ramblings." He stood up, folder under his arm.

"To be honest I haven't had a discussion of this particular topic quite like this with my colleagues in Oscorp for a very long while, so you can say that this is a rather impressed thank you. And an inquire for further study, in your interest of course..." The doctor took out something from his coat pocket and handed a small rectangular shape to the student. It was silvery, easily mistaken for a business card, but on the side a small darker stripe with the word OSCORP punched out in capital letters stood out from the rest.

He gestured towards the card. "This is an internship pass, coded for my department floor. It only clears during working hours, but if you let security scan it in they'll allow you clearance without asking for identification. Which reminds me, I neglected to ask, they won't let you through without my approval so I should at least know who I'm letting in - what is your name?"

Outside he could just catch the glimpse of some shape hurtling in from the sky. His brow creased as he strained to see past the window and the dim lighting both inside the cafe and in the darkness beyond. As it neared the ground a few people on the sidewalk were turning their heads, just as a young woman ran screaming from the alleyway across the street.

The noise was akin to hearing a bomb detonate, the car hood crunching up and cracking in the middle, its windshield shattering from the impact; From the object's sheer mass. In the dark it was hard to see it clearly, or maybe this was just a combination of the lights on the city street and Connors' eyesight, but the unmistakeable sound...

His ears rung as he headed for the door.

The area around the car was growing tightly packed, and there were already people motioning for their cellphones, shouting over the fearful cries of the crowd for police, several distress calls all circulating at once. Layers and layers of shoulders densely clustered together to raise their phones and cameras, trying to snap a picture or record a video, even merely audio, to report what appeared to be a rather baffled and somehow still alive person clung disheveled and out of sorts to the crumpled car underneath.

And as Dr.Connors pushed the door open, there was no mistaking that with this sudden change of plans, it could only mean one thing: It looked like the cab would have to wait for a minute.
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PostSubject: Re: Model Scientist (open)    Wed May 15, 2013 11:24 pm



The red suited man clasped his forehead as he giggled at the super mistake. The poor Sedan resembled a rolled up piece of paper. Naturally, New York was the city where no one slept. The night life oriented people gazed in a strange fusion of awe and confusion at the super powered boy that had just careened into the vehicle.


The dark haired lad peeled out of the mangled mess like unwrapping a blanket. People stared with jaws dragging the pavement. Lucky that they weren’t in a jungle where the flies would nest in there. Spidey could only raise an eyebrow as the peculiar boy lunged around the corner and covered his head like a four year old during a thunderstorm. Spider-man only looked down at the panicked young hero with a goofy stare.


“Yeah, you got ‘em good killer. Remind me the next time I get a parking ticket to call you. I imagine the NYPD will think twice about ticketing me once YOU’VE had a go at THEIR car!” He brightly teased. His voice was lighting up the dark damp alleyway.


It was an enigma the hero before Cadmus. A panicked freak by day then a loudmouthed hero by night. Who was the real person there? Peter Parker or Spider-Man? No one ever really knew. Not even Pete knew which one better symbolized who he is. It didn’t necessarily matter to him though. What mattered was that he was able to shed his skin a little, even if it was only for the night hours. He didn’t NEED to be overly polite to everyone he met. On the rough streets of New York, a greeting of a smart alack crack was his usual choice. This was almost always followed by a crack to the face of the thug. It was all invigorating to Peter. For once in his life he could be free! He could show a side of him he’d always locked away. It was truly refreshing.


But as he stared at the young lad, he began to catch a quiver in his eyes. Peter saw his quaking eyes when he first was out on the prowl. This was when he barely fit his suit from how tense he was. The definition of the word klutz became evident in each move he made. Peter would swing too quickly, not giving himself enough time to evade a corner. He’d drop in to prevent a mugging, and say “please” when asking the bandit to stop. It was a horrible mess that he tended to keep to himself. Imagine these horrendous stories ending up in the mind of Tony Stark. He’d never let Spider-man down for that!


But now, as he stared at the dark haired boy’s very real panic, he began to shift his mood. He saw the same rookie hyperventilation that he’d experienced. His gaze grew softer, as if Spidey had just found a homeless kitten on the side of the road. The kitten was cold and wet. The little feline was lost to the world, unsure of how to act of even hunt. Why, who would he be to just leave him there?


With a heavy sigh, the arachnid hero leaped from his webbing and crouched vertically on the brick wall. His web designed hand extended outwards towards Cadmus. You could almost feel the smile burning through the mask of the Friendly Neighborhood Hero.




“Need a ride home killer? My metabolism gets good gas mileage!”
Spider-man soothingly spoke, like a firefighter talking a child into being rescued.

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PostSubject: Re: Model Scientist (open)    Thu May 16, 2013 1:49 pm

Ambulance sirens moved through the air, and there the man laid there. His glasses scrunched up and broken, slamming onto the ground in a dirt pile mixed with broken lenses. His right eye twitched as the car's alarm continued through the air, his arms laid out beside him and dangling over the car. Flashes of cameras moved onto the face of the Kryptonian.

There he still laid, memories flashed through his head as his right hand moved onto the car, fingernails scratching against the vehicle under the broken up, smashed window. He remembered when he was first.. awake. That day in the home of Project Cadmus he was so confused.. so.. angry. He felt empty as he still did now. He still wanted answers.. even with the name changed, his job wasn't done. He needed to find out what Cadmus was all about.. who created it.. and why?

He killed all of the scientists and snapped a woman's neck, he smashed on his own chest like a crazy barbarian after slaughtering many successfully. A smile had crept onto his face with the blood on himself. There he turned and saw all of the other clones of Superman and Conner Kent.. Superboy. "I AM.. THE ONLY ONE!" This barbaric Kryptonian's eyes burned red, darker than the Kryptonian Destroyer's.. Doomsday. Two beams of light had moved from his optics.. with such force.. they pushed!

The beams slammed through the several containers, water and blood splashed onto the ground and the head of a terrified clone rolled to the feet of Cadmus, and he smashed it with his right foot, and with another flash of a bright, evil red light from his eyes. The clone who had dared to run slammed to the soil below, onto the water soaked with blood, the blood of the clones.. and the two wonderful Kryptonian's that had made them all..

Cadmus made his way to the paralyzed clone and grabbed it by the hairs atop its head. Picking him up he looked into the eyes of this clone... Not one bit.. not even a little bit of sadness and regret had tingled in his cold heart that was pumping blood so fast.. faster than a human could ever handle. "Why?".. The clone looked at Cadmus, blood spilled from his flaring nostrils and mouth.

"I am the only one.."
]"Brother.. DO--"

The clone screamed in pain as Cadmus burned into the skull of the person with the Heat-Vision. The screams echoed through the air, the clone punched onto Cadmus' chest. It was no use. Cadmus burned all the way through the hard head of this boy, and then ripped through the brain that didn't even have a chance to learn. The only thing it learned.. was that Cadmus was a cold hearted man.. evil. Cadmus dropped the clone and screamed like a barbarian once more, turning to see his reflection off of a black, shining wall coated with blood.

He wiped away the blood on the wall and looked at his chest with black eyes with circular gray pupils. He screamed and yelled at his reflection.. seeing the S symbol on his chest, he then began to be confused. He screamed up to the air and looked at his reflection once more, his heat vision slammed into the wall and bounced off onto his chest. He drew an S symbol onto his chest, burning the red one off, the patch hit the ground.

Cadmus slammed his fist to the ground and moved through the ceiling above, through the dark skies where the rain hit the soil below.. not a single soul could see what danger had been let out.

The somewhat.. "Baptized" Cadmus woke up with a start, and there the sun shined, it was going down.. night was coming. He saw a figure on top of the car holding his hand out. "G-god? Is that.. you?" The Kryptonian grabbed the hand of the man in the suit he believed was God.. but in reality it was a teenage boy with.. 'Spectacular' (OOC: Ba dum tss.) power. "Save me.. God." Superman turned cross-eyed and feinted, still holding onto the hand of Spiderman.
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PostSubject: Re: Model Scientist (open)    Fri May 17, 2013 7:06 am

Jake sat in marvel as the esteemed scientist handed an intership pass to Oscorps.... He had been in the city on vacation but had been looking at apartments, knowing this dirty city would need his help from criminals and now he had another reason to stay, not out of duty but out of sheer wanting to. "Um.. My name is.. uh.. Jacob Powers" he said, stammering a bit at the sheer surprise before hearing the frightened screams of a woman as she ran from somewhere outside of his field of vision and past the coffee shop window. His happy mood turned into a serious business like one as he stood and walked toward the men's room while all the eyes were looking out of the window, his bulking pack in his hand as he went.

Once in the rest room his hands ripped the zipper open before he upturned the contents of the pack, his suit falling out. His hands guided his disguise over his body rapidly as it had done many times before, his black mask fixing over his face before becoming covered by the cowl he wore over it, his hands pulling his boots on quickly before his fingers settled into their gloves and he exited the restroom and out the back of the shop, coming up in an ally way and running toward the noise of a car horn, it blaring violently in the night. He ran around the side of the building to find what appeared to be superman crashed into the hood of a car, it molded around his body like a custom fit glove, what he also saw was Spiderman holding the fallen hero's hands as he passed out. At first he wanted to have a geek attack but soon remembered his training with DarkWatch, walking through the crowd of people and toward the two heroes he spoke, his young voice sounding serious yet alive, " Nice to see two famed heroes can smash up a car yet not check on the driver." he said, stepping around them and heading toward the driver side door of the car, his hands trying to open the door but it wouldn't budge. He smiled from under his mask, gripping the handle as he pulled once more, with both his hand and his mind, ripping the door off its hinges and setting it down by the ruined vehicle. Lately he had been working on amplifying regular human attacks with his psi energy to produce super strength, and it had just paid off.

He reached into the car and unbuckled the man in the driver's seat, knocked out cold from the collision and his airbag deploying on his face, he lifted the man out of the car gingerly and laid him down on a flat section of pavement, making sure he was breathing and checking for wounds, once clear he looked back to the other two and shook his head, "You two should have checked this man" he said before looking back to the man and hearing the sirens of the ambulance as it made its way toward the wreckage.

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PostSubject: Re: Model Scientist (open)    Fri May 17, 2013 6:42 pm

Cool night air hit the doctor, followed by another avalanche of sound and noise, though this time he found to his distaste it was even louder than before. His ears were ringing - being close to the scene of a superhero dive-bombing straight into the hood of a car left an unsightly impact on one's hearing sense, and there were already media cars showing up among the ambulances, cameras whipping out both iphone and camcorder. He ducked into the crowd, taking advantage of this precious moment of anomynity to peer closer to the wreckage, the carnage, searching for an effort to help.

It was hard to see; Too many elbows shoved into his way, too many backs turned. When he managed to get near enough to snap a glimpse it appeared that the calvary had arrived.

Three heroes, not one, as it turned out. One looked like he had thought, that second of clarity as the man had dropped from the sky - a near replica of superman, torn cape, eyes closed, exhaustion clear over his expression, and his hand clutched in the grasp of none other than-

"SPIDER-MAN!" A woman next to him shouted, pushing past Connors to send him stumbling back into the thick throng of people.

She had her eyes focused on Spiderman and her microphone was practically melded to her fingers. A camera man was just following up behind her. Connors blinked, watching as New York City's finest were already on the scene, looking to get snapshots of the webslinger hero, the fallen Kryptonian, the man in black transferring the injured driver from his vehicle. Sirens wailed red and blue, nurses wading through, stretcher out and ready. There were two stretchers; One for the unconscious Superman no doubt. It was altogether a noisy, orderly reaction. Police were trying to section off the site.

But then again, how else did one act upon seeing, upon witnessing the very job of a superhero?

Connors turned his head, hearing the screams of the woman who had run out of the alleyway earlier. She was pointing a finger at the Superman sprawled at the hood of the car, a microphone held just under her open mouth. There were really a lot of media here. A Daily Planet van was cruising just down the street. He moved closer toward the ambulance area, to a smaller group of people handing supplies to the medic team. A couple of them were with the nurses, picking up the scoop stretcher and delivering it to the injured man and the dark-dressed hero crouched near him.

It only hit him then, that Jacob had not followed him outside. Looking behind him, he couldn't see the familiar face amidst the crowd, not that he expected to with the sheer number of people. Of course he had rushed out of the cafe as soon as he got over the ringing of the impact crash, so he had lost the student in the process.

Or at least, that was what he thought.


Last edited by Dr.Connors on Sun May 19, 2013 4:22 pm; edited 1 time in total
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PostSubject: Re: Model Scientist (open)    Sat May 18, 2013 1:13 am

I cocked my head at him with a lifted eyebrow. All that could go through his mind was "really? really?". He grumbled as he clasped the dazed hands of the injured super boy. With a simple hoist, the young man was slumping on his back. Spidey let out a short 'oof' the bulk of the injured hero's muscle being a bit more heavy than he anticipated.

His hand was quick to lift out from his body with an extended finger.

"Okay, first, this bone head who apparently thinks Im God careened into a car. I helped the CLOSEST person. Sorry that I am not Tony and cannot zoom from place to place. A WebHead only moves so fast!" He was quick to complain, but only retaining a sliver of true scrutiny. It released as more of a goofy chip as most of his babbles were. The hero continued to shake his finger like a teacher scolding a child.

Peter thought very perplexed thoughts. Since when had he become a 'famed' hero? Some one must have spread rumors around about him. It didn't make much sense to him. He felt a small fire in the pit of his stomach at the accusations of the second strange hero he'd met that night. It wasn't as if he had intentionally left the man left unconcious. Who sits in a parked car in the middle of New York anyways? It wasn't normal so he just infered that no one was in the car. He hadn't even seen the man.

Matter of fact, Peter had not spotted the man until the new hero yanked him from his metal encasing. Matter of fact, all of the darkness was seeimingly blurring together... Everything seemed to have this eerie glow to it. Colors bled every which way. Where words should be, instead were black smears. Pete looked down at his own hands, turning and studing them. His webbed designs were seemingly melding together.

The hindered hero sighed as he had forgotten his contacts that night.

A bewildering guilt chilled his veins. If he had not been in the company of this strange second guy, there would be a man for the paramedics to find. What if the man had not been lucky enough to survive the collision with the rock of a man? Something as simple as leaving his own contacts behind could have EASILY cost a man his life that night. A cold sweat dampened his brow, the guilt smothering him like waterboard torture. It was terrifying that something as incredibly minute as that could alter the fate of the people he cared about. He could kill a man with simple mistakes. Spidey could be five seconds late to a shooting. Spider-man could web the wrong building and tear weak bricks that could crush skulls. Everything he did could have tragic consequences if not done right.

It had been months since he'd taken the name Spider-man. Many felt as if he was the most heroic of the new hero movement of the world. How could he compare to that? A boy so full of inexperience and mistakes was only going to get someone killed.

However, Peter knew deep down that if he stood by and did nothing, only more people would be killed.



"With Great Power, Comes Great Responsibility..." a voice he dearly missed muttered in his head.

A second finger popped up, his middle to be exact along side his index. They formed a webbed peace sign.

"Second, thank you. This rescue goes to you new guy. Get your pictures. JJ is gonna be all over me for this one, probably say I intentionally destroyed the car. Menace! blah blah blah...," He bobbed his head left and right to mimic the enraged news director.

An exhuasted groan came rolling over his shoulder as he recalled that the Kryptonian man was bewildered and overwhelmed. Spidey snapped back to the man known as PsiPort and saluted him with the two fingers.


"See ya around kid! You did good where I screwed up!"


Without another word, Spider-man was soaring through the air with his body bent backwards. The leap was incredible, sending the hero clear over the building. Gravity slowly began to take force again as the pair fell towards the earth.

A loud twip echoed off the buildings as a string of webbing attatched to the nearby flag pole. Using a great example of physics, he used his momentum to pull him through the air like Tarzan on a vine. The lights below were blurring by like highway cars. The wind was blinding in Cadmus's face as his dark hair whipped about.

"Be careful back there! I don't come with a barf bag included!"

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PostSubject: Re: Model Scientist (open)    Sun May 19, 2013 11:17 pm

Cadmus moved his arms around the shoulder-blades of the man that shot webs from his wrists through the air, slinging on street lights and skyscrapers. He looked about and gasped, he was used to flying.. but now he was gasping at that he still had his suit on?

He thought about it. It MUST have happened when he had gotten shot, he had just installed a reaction plan on his suit, and now he could put it on more quickly with a simple tap on his wrist, where the watch lay. Easily pressing the red button and there the magic of Nano-robotics happened.

Small little robotic creatures would crawl over his body once he pressed the button, and there they would form his suit. His suit was also armor, made of steel but not heavy at all for this.. Boy of Steel. Now Spiderman knew his identity.. he saw how Cadmus looked, how SUPERMAN looked.

What could he do now? Cadmus opened his eyes completely and fell down from the back of the original Web-Head, he slammed atop of a building and stared up at Spiderman, his red cape flowed a bit through the wind and he stepped forth, looking up at the man in the red and blue.

"I think I can handle myself." Superman said, cracking his back and leaning back a bit. "Thanks for the help, maybe we can work together sometime. you seem useful." Superman turned around and prepared to jump off, and then a tiny thought moved into his head.

If the Web-Slinger had saw who he really was, then it was only fair of he knew who he was. Superman turned around and was prepared to use his X-ray vision to see through his mask.


There he saw a man behind this mask. Around his age, 18, and Supes himself was about 20, turning 21 soon. The flash flashed through his brain and he remembered the face, this was the kid that worked for the Daily Bugle! He remembered seeing him whilst visiting New York as Cadmus when he was going out on a rampage.

"Have a nice day, P-- Spiderman." Superman widened his eyes at the slip of his tongue and quickly jumped away, leaving a cloud of dust.
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PostSubject: Re: Model Scientist (open)    Mon May 20, 2013 2:05 pm

Psi stood quietly as Spiderman counted things off and spoke, wondering if people loved the web head because of his sarcasm because it was getting under his skin right about now. He didn't say his thought though, he left them hidden deep within his mind and stood quietly with his hands on his hips, news crews circling around the three as Spiderman spoke, snapping pictures off of the red and blue hero lifting the man of steel from the car and taking off.

Behind his Mask Psi merely rolled his eyes, now Spiderman saved Superman, his status would only climb now. He shrugged and turned back to the man that was laid on a stretcher with a neck brace on, the EMT's checking his pulse and confirming him safe for transport. Psi put his right hand on the man's shoulder before turning away and letting the EMT's do their job. He turned back to the car that had been pushed to the middle of the street with the collision, his hands going out while waves of indigo energy only visible to him ripped outward in controlled bursts.

The energy engulfed the ruined car and slowly pushed it off o the middle of the street, toward the sidewalk, as well as the debris, so traffic could begin once again. His arms burned from the effort of it, him walking past the news crews with out speaking. His thoughts heavily on how his energy had decreased lately, his mind flashing back to what he been dubbed The Robots March on Gotham.....

..... He watched as the god like hero Omega appeared from a yellow energy portal in the middle of the city and stood by him and Ki, ripping the never ending hordes of robot warriors to shreds. His own arms rose up, hyper to show off to such a high level hero, he blasted the horde and depleted himself in the process, only to notice rows appearing on the sides of the buildings, aiming arms at the three heroes, now four as the titan Dusk appeared, red lasers charging and aiming at them. He watched as he stood forward in his own mind, bringing up a shield of energy, the energy being absorbed and breaking his body from with in, only to feel a warm hand on his shoulder and energy race into him to amp him up and return the fire to the enemies.

He looked to see it was Omega's hand on his shoulder, lending him yellow energy......


......His mind fast forwarded to right when they managed to collapse the giant vessel on the beach and he fell in the sands, burned out and dying from using his power like he had never used it before. He closed his eyes only to feel the warm touch on his chest again, feeling tingle of energy popping in his body, restarting him and molding with his very DNA, mutating him even more than his Psi energy had. He woke to find his powers amped up, feeling stronger than ever before.....

......His mind flashed to the last night he saw Ki, they were sitting in his apartment, they had been watching a movie and he decided to go to bed, tired from the day's activities. He fell in his bed only to feel a burn from inside his body, as if something was pulling out from every facet of his being, he could only lay there and scream, wondering why Ki wasn't busting his door down due to his screams of pain, his brow sweating, the room turning into a horrid nightmare where he saw nothing but his team hanging from the walls, all of them impaled by bolts of indigo energy, him standing in the middle of them all with his hands up and laughing wildly....

..... then blackness and when he woke back up he felt weaker than before, weaker than before the battle of Gotham, he looked around his room to make sure that he was only having a nightmare and hadn't really killed his team. it was only a dream......

....his mind snapped back to reality and he found himself huddled in an ally way a good half mile from where he had pulled the man from the car, he found himself cowering behind a dumpster with a cold sweat running down the back of his neck and his brow, salty tears streaming from his eyes. His left hand removed his mask while his right hand wiped the sweat and tears away and mumbled to no one but himself....."I want my friends back....."

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PostSubject: Re: Model Scientist (open)    Mon May 20, 2013 5:25 pm

In a flurry of activity, Spider-Man and Superman were up in the air, swinging away just as the media - with all their supplies loaded up and flashing - had just started to close in. Connors didn't need to be part of the crew to feel the panic that raced through the vans and news groups while they shuttled out of the area, pushing past the still standing crowd to track them with their cameras, some sticking around to see the injured driver and the screaming woman still answering questions (rather loudly) over the microphones. A swarm of them were trying to catch what the thrid Superhero, wearing black and heaving the car to the side of the street was doing. It was like a swarm of insects, how the paparazzi in Manhattan seemed to operate. He kept near the ambulance, his eyes sweeping over the unconscious driver, the EMTs combined with civillian helpers loading the scoop stretcher on to the ambulance. He noted a neck brace.

The biologist stepped out of the crowd, running fingers through his hair, finally exhaling after having witnessed the crash. There was a reason he no longer operated as a surgeon - it had grown to be too much in the years following the "incident". That was what that hive of NYC's press had named it; An "incident." A "major victory for all Heroes to remember", as he had read it in the first newspaper he found once they let him recover and let him walk out of the hospital, a broken and paranoid remnant of himself.

He remembered it differently, to say the least.

Gunfire; The medical team stationed precariously on enemy territory, closer to the front lines than they would have liked. A relatively stable base, up until they found themselves sitting on landmines. Countless mines, raids, soldiers regularly leaving to take care of the numerous sentry reports heard from just outside the base. At some point the helicopters stopped showing up, and it was as if they'd pulled the plug on their entire operation. Connors had been optimistic. It annoyed the other researchers, but he held on to the idea that at some point, even with the soldiers returning in greater heaps than when they came out, the heroes would come to save the day. Then the helicopters would show up and maybe they'd get out alive.

Their base was obviously falling. Not enough protection; Just a scrappy camp that just happened to hold a ton of valuable instruments, meatball surgery which kept the soldiers going until they hit their expiration date and of course the slings he'd developed which also served as a type of armor. He had been proud of this achievement, the lives it would save. Except for the fact that when he got there he realized they were still all dying. And he watched many of them die.

Still, heroes would come, helicopters would evacuate them and their soldiers, the patients would survive, everyone would come home in victory. Of course, then the night came.

All he could see was a beam of light in the sky, one that suddenly lit up in front of him and the vehicle he was loading his medical supplies, the experimental slings into. What he could see in that sudden flash of light was a figure, a humanoid figure, careening through the sky and laughing - laughing while he was thrown to the ground, bits and pieces of the vehicle and his equipment slicing through his body, cuts and scrapes and then the explosion...His head hit something hard on the ground and everything had gone black.

Dimly he was aware of fighting, the sounds and sometimes the feeling of heat and fire near him, before he was ushered out of the area. Taste of blood in his mouth, his stomach lurched and he wanted to vomit, but he couldn't. Everything was blurred, and when he looked at his arm, where he felt the most pain - there was nothing to see. Just scraps of bone, sinew, stuff the hospital staff would later amputate further so that he could recover. At that point all he saw were bodies, many people he had worked with, the crew of scientists and the soldiers he had treated time and time again over the course of the months that followed.

So many people dead. Nothing he could do about it. A failure in that regard, one he never wanted to see again.

And afterwards, when he awoke on a hospital bed with a worried family and fellow collaborators, the television blaring the disaster and then the sudden "victory" as superheroes claimed the base and fought back the forces that had done this to him and his team...That was when he knew he had to change something. Had to fight alongside those heroes as well. It just took quite a while before his thoughts were straight enough and he had recovered both physically and mentally from the trauma induced in that event to start laying the framework for that regenerative formula. If he couldn't save those men from dying, those brilliant minds working with him to keep them alive, then at least he could save everyone else, including himself.

Now with funding from Oscorp, he had been looking for the assistance, someone who could help him before the project curled up and died in Oscorp's hands. He had been so close while working with Richard Parker (before his sudden disappearance) but the research, the algorithm which would fix this, vanished in the long run. All he needed was that chance to make it through. Having met Jacob gave him hope to find just that person, and the student would be welcome to Oscorp's halls to bring in his own input on this stalemate.

Stepping into a taxi, he took the folder back into his hands and smiled. Like Dr.Ratha said, revisit the data, and maybe something beneficial would come out of it.

Better yet, have a stroke of genius.



[Exit]

ooc: Thank you so much for joining me on this thread! I'm surprised so many people joined it. This was a great first impression for this site and I can't wait to participate more haha.
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PostSubject: Re: Model Scientist (open)    Mon May 20, 2013 6:48 pm

Spider-man took a quick flip and landed firmly like a bird on the rooftop ledge. His shoulders bent as he used his hands to support his slim frame. Spidey's legs arched up into a crouching position, mimicing the Spider that gave him his incredible powers.

Spider-man eyed the bewildered hero, now dressed in blue and red garb.

"Not a bad choice of scheme, could do without the yellow though,"
Pete chuckled within his playful mind. The sleek, black haired boy seemed bewildered when he found him. The way he accidently careened into the car and nearly killed a man made him reminiscent of his earlier months under his belt; how he still was at times. There was no mistake that this hero was definitely new on the streets of New York. Considering his extrodinary powers, it wasn't a false assumption to guess that the scatter brained hero had been to far more places than simply York. If Peter were someone else, he'd take the advantage to fly and zoom right out of the cespool of crime.

However, the more Pete stared at the boy in his heroic garb. It was a wonder how this was the same man who had previously acted like a super klutz. The updrafts from heated cars were catching his vibrant red cape. It flowed like a glistening river over a moutain side. His sleek blue outfit looked like it had been fitted by the gods. His shimmering "S" stood for more than a simple insignia; even Spider-man had known that much. That bright yellow symbol stood for safety for all women and children under the threat of evil in this world.

It was... inspiring to be gentle about it. It was so bizarre to see the dunce of the hero world turn into a shining warrior of peace in a simple costume change. There was more than meets the eye to the new hero than Spidey had originally thought. There was true potential for good in the heart of the Superboy. It wasn't a far shot to assume the greatness this boy would become. Spider-man saw in that moment, a brave champion of the people. A man who would never have to hide who he was from the world. Certainly not anyone, even good ol' JJ could hate! This hero would be the courageous answer to all cries for help! This was the face of Justice in its purest form; just nobody knew it yet.

But Peter knew, that the meek hero would become a valiant force of good on the planet Earth. He couldn't help but smile at the thought of such a noble hero watching over the people of the world. Spider-man was ready to begin an eager apprasal of the young boy and his prowess for the world to come; when his strange statement smacked Spidey across the face.

"Useful...? Uh.. Thanks I guess? I mean, the last time I heard that was when my ex kicked me to the curb... I didn't even get the 'lets be friends' line. It was pretty cold and cynical if you ask me!" Spidey chirped, accentuating his speech with wild hand gestures. It was almost dangeorus to be around the Webhead when he spoke witht he way his hands flaied about.

"It'd be great to work toge-!" He went to speak in an elated tone before a cloud of dust obscured his vison. Spidey sat like a gargoyle of stone with his finger held out. The WebHead stood there in a stoic trance of disbelief. After a few ages, his eyebrow slowly lifted with the perplexity of the situation. He felt the oncoming of those classic cartoon moments when the waterdrop descends from the foreheard. A thousand pound weights suddenly hung down on his head as he drooped it with shame. The Spider-man's hand still hung in the air, bewildered by the instantaneous departure of the hero he was so greatly idolizing just moments ago.

Spidey hung his head with disbelief as the dust cloud faded.

"Really...? Did I really just get snubbed? Ugh, I get enough of that as the mild mannered Peter Parker! Figured Spider-man would be my lunch break from being socially inept...," He murmured to himself.


His palm came up and clasped his face with apprehension of the situation. He was finally beginning to percieve the fact that the idol of all that is good just zoomed away from him without even letting him finish his sentence. His hand glided up and over the top of his mask with a heavy sigh. Spidey leaped from his perch on the ledge and stood upright like a human(for once).

"'Thanks Spider-man! I really owe you one!'" He began, mimicking the cheeky Superboy.

"Oh, it was no problem! Just all in a days work for your friendly neighborhood Spider-man!"

"'No no, I insist! You saved me! That was honorable!'"

Spidey flipped his hand and grinned beneath his mask as his fake conversation proceeded.

"Oh stop it you!"

Another heavy sigh cut the fantasy short as he placed his fists on his hips, eyes gazing out over the glowing lights of New York.

"Yeah, when pigs fly is the day that Spider-man is recognized for the good he does."

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