7961/No More Throwing Bins, Okay

No More Throwing Bins, Okay
Date of Scene:	19 June 2019
Location:	Medical, Avengers Mansion
Synopsis:	A perfectly civil conversation over salmon and Cheez-its occurs.
Cast of Characters:	Ant-Man (Pym), Captain America

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Ant-Man (Pym) has posed:
There's a trap in front of the door. It's been kicked around a number of times, and always seems to kind of drift back over to the doorway from the airflow of the air conditioner in medical. It's a plastic cup, the size of a wastepaper basket, that weighs very little. It matches, of course, the cup that has been restored to Hank by a nurse, with his water in it, at bedside.

Hank already looks better. He's still very underweight, but he's sitting up without the limp noodle quality of coming out of a coma.

Most specifically, Hank looks 'better' because he has two laptops out, and some sort of long, heavy machine next to his bed on the floor, with a tangle of cords that plug into one of the laptops. Who is responsible for setting that all up for him may not be clear at a glance, but he's making the most of his recovery.

He also has a plate of what smells like possibly a salmon meal, rice, vegatables, on his tray amidst the variety of computer equipment that's encroaching on his bed.

Captain America has posed:
It's the scent of the meal that jogs Steve into knowing that Hank's on the mend, even before his booted steps take him finally to the door to the scientist's recovery room. The sight of the enlarged water cup, Dixie and patterned in a neutral, soothing watercolor blending of greens and blues, gives him reason to pause in full view at the open door itself. He looks down at it and back at Hank. His expression isn't exactly disapproving and there is the faintest quirk of a smile at one side of his lips.

"Can't keep a good man down," he comments as he then toes aside the supersized cup to enter the suite proper. "How're you holding up?" He's civilian today in a plain blue cotton t-shirt and jeans.

Not 'what have you learned' or 'what is the status of your work.'

Ant-Man (Pym) has posed:
"Evidence suggests I may not be a good man, then, as I'm still very much in this bed," Hank answers in his contrite way, without looking up from what he's doing. That's a very common Hank thing: to be slightly hostile to interruptions to a thought process or project he's on. It is very mild, though, because he finishes typing in what he's doing, and closes the laptop to set it aside, and works on drawing the tray that has the food on it towards himself, without upsetting the water. A hand lifts to grab the top of it, so it doesn't spill, though his UV cord nearly catches the edge.

"I'm all right. Getting through the migraines hasn't been easy. Mostly for other people," Hank smiles a little bit, with a shrug that is but also isn't apologetic. "Less bored, now that I have my things to work on. And how are you?"

Captain America has posed:
Oh good, the initial response to his presence isn't another sudden flying and size-shifted object in his direction. Steve finds himself internally relieved even as he makes his way over to the side of Hank's hospital bed. He eyes the collection of cords and technology even as he takes up an easy stance there, thumbs hooked in the pockets of his jeans.

"Can't complain overmuch myself. Wouldn't do me much good anyways." There's evidence that he was recently in some sort of scuffle by the abrasions seen on one forearm and the butterfly bandaid holding a slice on his temple closed, where a piece of snapped rebar cut him on the extraction run. "Glad to see you're making progress, health and study both." His is a tired but true smile, both polite and friendly to a fellow colleague.

Ant-Man (Pym) has posed:
"Hm," Hank says, in the same way he'd say to a student that gave a theory that's possibly too simplified, watching Steve come over. Hank looks him directly in the eyes as he comes to stop at the bedside. Hank then appears to put most of his attention on his meal, in a subtle little snub. It isn't like he is ignoring Steve: not really, but it is the same reaction as if they had had an argument, and Hank isn't going to just ignore that it didn't happen. Hank's easy to slight, and there was, in fact, a big 'slight'. He's just not going to throw it in Steve's face, either: at least not yet. That could yet come: some small thing might suddenly become a giant monstrous sized thing. Hank has never been all that stable. And there's some quiet punishment about something happening.

"Thank you," Hank answers, in a way that has a forced quality: not that the words are off, but that Hank rarely actually means it when he says thank-you. But the effort is there, maybe. "Vision's case is a priority over how great I may or may not feel," Hank replies, while he cuts some of the vegetable pieces up.

Captain America has posed:
Having seen this behavior before in a very old friend, the Captain doesn't take it too much to heart. There is, of course, the sting of having what could be a good guess as to the origins of the behavior, but if there's anything Steve is know for, it's tact.

In calm situations.

"It'll be good to have Vision back," the man admits as he looks off to one side, towards the wall with its seasonally-appropriate paintings. The summery beachside sprawls across the canvas in soothing gold and blues, studded here and there with whimsical seashells and sea-stars. "I've looked over most of the information from him, but not all of it. Gotta have as much of it can we can before we can make a final decision on matters. It's all coming to a head." His eyes return to Hank and his plate. He's not hungry now, not anymore, even if the food does smell good and it's about lunchtime.

Ant-Man (Pym) has posed:
"'Good to have vision back'?" Hank echoes, with a sudden sharpness of incredulity. "We have his backup, his core, but reconstituting him isn't like he's coming back from vacation. He could really be /gone/, or some version that isn't Vision anymore," Hank says. "Are you kidding?" His mood did swing, but towards being defensive of Vision's status just being simplified in that way, at least to his view.

"'Good to have vision back'," he repeats again, with a snort. "If we can't do this, you're not in charge of the funeral," he informs Steve in a snippy way, with a jab of index finger towards Steve. The finger-jab is one of Hank's tells, when he's starting to get wrung up over something important to him. "You can say that about me coming back, that's fine. But this isn't minor, Steven."

Captain America has posed:
Steve visibly jerks back, his brows meeting in a deep frown. "Christ, Hank -- I didn't mean it like that," he says still calmly. The first notes of stress can be heard beneath it regardless. "Vision's one of us. Not having him? It's like a hole in a patchwork quilt."

He drops his chin and slowly shakes his head, eyes downcast to the base of the IV stand. There's a curl of sterile gauze wrapped around the wheel-well, probably caught up and unnoticed from a past time of trauma.

"It isn't minor, you get no argument from me. I have faith that we'll get him back though. Can't have anything else but faith. It'd be a slight on him to think otherwise," he explains as he looks back up at Hank again, still wearing the frown.

Ant-Man (Pym) has posed:
Appropriately mollified, Hank's anger about the situation seems to ease back a few notches on the meter. His glare turns more into his more usual state of general grumpiness with the world. Then again, Steve was warned earlier: the migraines plus Hank means the room is something of a war zone. At least his emotions aren't as punishing as Hulk's.

"Fine, fine," Hank says, at least willing to drop it, even if his tone suggests he isn't sure that Steve fully understands the problem. Hank just doesn't feel like explaining all of the ways that faith isn't helpful, or the very real dangers and problems with the programming aspects. Ignorance is a present he'll let Steve keep.

Hank continues to eat his meal, in a very OCD sort of way: each thing a certain amount, very evenly. He's probably not aware he's doing it. "We need to send a team out to track the rogue Sentinel. A project for during the prayer time."

Captain America has posed:
Steve holds his tongue at the continued subtle snark. This is a battle he chooses not to pick right now.

"Shouldn't be impossible to find a few people interested. Hell, we're at the point where we could cherry-pick whomever we wanted from multiple contingents. SHIELD took on the other scientist you were with. She's in good hands. I expect to touch base with the agents again soon, so could see who's interested. I'm certain a few of the staff from Xavier's school would also step up if approached."

Ant-Man (Pym) has posed:
It was like Hank was giving maybe forty percent attention, and he suddenly gives all of it. Like an out of focus set of binoculars suddenly keyed in like a scope. He also stops moving. "Which scientist are we talking about? Walker or Sandhu?" Hank asks, with a pressure of Deep Importance with his voice. If he'd had glasses he might have pulled them off, but he lacks those.

"And is she awake?" Hanks asks, as a secondary question, with a cold detachment, as if either trying to keep his own emotions about it out of the equation, and keep himself even.

Captain America has posed:
"When Janet and I exfiltrated you from the facility, there was another scientist. She appeared to have been unconscious for a similar amount of time, a handful of months. Between SHIELD's efforts and the information that JARVIS provided to me before I arrived at the facility, we believe it to be Doctor Sandhu. Last I heard, she was stable."

Granted, that was a day or two ago and mere hours can make a cataclysmic difference in the life of someone struggling against malnutrition and abuse.

Steve shifts in place, keeping his thumbs hooked at his pockets. "I couldn't tell you if she's awake yet. I'm due to brief with SHIELD today."

Ant-Man (Pym) has posed:
"I see." Hank's agitation changes a little. He might have reacted more strongly to Dr. Walker. "Well. Let me put it this way, Steve," Hank says, in his way that he can tend to get when he's making a complicated topic into a more simplified version. On the upside, Hank is good at adjusting to various audiences. On the downside, he's rarely /happy/ to do so, like it's some kind of inconvenience. The taste of it is very minor now, though: he doesn't expect Steve to have known before, so there's zero annoyance.

"Dr. Octavius brought in four scientists, including myself." Hank uses four fingers to show this. "Only one of us /didn't/ require blackmail or leverage against us to cooperate." He drops three, leaving the pinky finger alone. "I hope that suggests the sort of person you're dealing with, with Sandhu. You'd best lock her down."

Captain America has posed:
"Truthfully, I pity her time spent with Director May," Steve replies flatly, his brows having finally met in a firm glower. He's very aware of the patronizing tone and it's finally gotten under his skin. "Or Agent Barnes. Because neither of them deal well with misconduct in scientific medicine. I suspect she's cuffed to her gurney if she's even awake at all."

A sigh leaves him. "You'll be kept in the loop just like everybody else here in mansion about what SHIELD's found out while she's in their care," he adds more levelly.

Ant-Man (Pym) has posed:
"Well, so long as she hasn't been given the red carpet treatment, like myself," Hank clarifies, with an actual soft chuckle. It isn't sarcastic, really; he's probably relieved to hear she wasn't given the semi-hero's welcome he has had. After all, if he were motivated enough, he could get up and leave.

Hank hasn't, though. "I should give full writeups on all of them, but the short version would be that Sandhu was outright terrible, Weiss was a liar and a weasel, and Walker didn't deserve any of it, poor girl." Hank's brows move together in a frown that isn't aimed at Steve: but one of the frowns that redeems Hank. He did, and does, care. "I hope she wasn't blamed for what I did. I'd hoped she was the one you found. But, alas, it's always the bad news first."

Hank remembers his meal, and continues to eat it. "I have some ideas for tracking the rogue Sentinel, if a team is put together."

Captain America has posed:
"Shoot me an email with the write-ups. The motivations of the others could shed light onto futher connections or other places to look for weaknesses in the Sentinels. I can pass it on to SHIELD as well," Steve decides. He takes a moment to shift back a step and look over his shoulder for a chair. Sitting seems like a nice idea about now. Whatever style chair it is, it's taken, and he flips it about to sit astride it with the back facing Hank.

"Might as well assume there'll be a team, Hank. What've you got?"

Ant-Man (Pym) has posed:
"There's a few options. Some require him to still be operational - which is unlikely but possible, if he were able to repair - and some related to the damage he took from Vision," Hank says, while eating. "Someone brought me some cheez-its. You're welcome to them if you like," Hank comments dryly, as if he didn't like cheez-its, with a gesture of fork towards some various items people have brought him on a table to the side.

"Options, such as... luring directly, based on what we know he's seeking. Or, we know how Sentinels relay messages, and we use the net of that to find out where the gaps are: he won't be relaying properly at this point, and subtle variation can be picked out by their net, even if not by us." Hank isn't a chatterbox like some geniuses, he is going through each point with a firm, methodical way. "Those would be easier, but I do suspect he's offline, which leaves the energy signatures from Vision. Devices to track that can be fabricated quickly, I'd imagine, /with/ the data I know about Vision's weapons."

Hank has some tasty Salmon, watching Steve, with a clear little self-victory in his smile. "There are some other ways, but those are the best to start with, in my expert opinion." His powerful mind, while often requiring patience, does produce.

Captain America has posed:
Those Cheez-Its aren't to be passed up. Steve's stomach doesn't rumble, but he does take the box offered to him without much hesitation. Cardboard pops and plastic rattles as he opens it. A handful is poured out and he tucks the box between his spread legs and the back of the chair. It's tempting to talk around his mouthful of delicious cheesy crackers, but the Captain doesn't. He simply eats and listens, his glower having lessened to something more akin to pensive interest.

"Figure, what...we find the right wavelength of the energy emitted by Vision and triangulate as best we can? Probably fairly easy to reach out and have other trusted parties set up the technology. Vision had a pretty specific spectrum. I remember Tony going on about it," Steve says with a nod. "Find where the fox has denned up and smoke him out."

Ant-Man (Pym) has posed:
"It isn't a normal energy blast, but we have the target's nature to consider, more importantly," Hank says, with a nod of approval as if he's glad his student is on the right track. Or just happy to not repeat himself. "That Sentinel would have soaked it up, stored some of it. Energy shielding. We use that against him, here, with Vision's spectrum. Unless he's already had some massive fight and drained himself out: but, we'd still be on the right trail, following that fight. That's why I think the other choices may have higher likelihood of success, if I were to give you probabilities."

Hank shrugs, "But if you have enough people? Give them each a direction. Throw the energy thing at Stark, he'd like it, it's flashy if it pans out. Give the other two to SHIELD or whoever."

There's a little pause. "Originally I'd intended to get that sentinel to spread an adapted virus into the others. Might not be too late. Just a lot more difficult."

Captain America has posed:
Steve mirrors the shrug. Sounds like a plan, he says without the words leaving his lips. Besides, he's eating Cheez-its. This is important business, keeping his calorie count up enough to remain comfortable.

Once his mouth is clear, he says, "Suppose nothing stops you from trying to get the virus up and running. Use our connections to the other groups if you need a helping hand."

Ant-Man (Pym) has posed:
"No, just my finite amount of time," Hank answers, with a touch of frustration, lifting one hand to rub his forehead near the side of his head, in his hair. "Delegation isn't my strong suit," Hank admits, in a rare show of being able, it appears, to show a tiny speck of humility. "I prefer things done my way." Truer statement has probably never been spoken.

"I'm putting most of my time on Vision's restoration. Not that I don't think hunting that sentinel is important, but that I do think he's rotting somewhere, and can wait a bit longer than Vision."

Hank pauses, and then moves his plate aside, picking up his laptop. "Speaking of rotting... new idea. This might work better. ....Come back later," Hank says, semi-abruptly, but not in a mean way. He's got something....