Owner	Pose
Sinister	One thing that is not commonly told to well, just about ANYONE, is the fact that Sinister, even this Sinister, is frequently at multiple places at once. He never told anyone he made himself a personal 'going out and getting things done' clone, though he did that pretty much when he helped people get Human and a few other projects involving others. Doctor Essex, it must be said, hates being idle. Having nothing to do with himself, taking relaxing downtime, is something he /actually/ just does in one body and carries on with things in another. And so, whilst there's mischief going on, which he's very well aware of, as that mind is ALSO his... he's locking vaults and refrigerator doors, making sure current things are secured and running their programs and work. The place is a deserted gas station and clinic base at an old town that used to serve a mine. The mine stopped production, the people moved away. It makes for useful things for Sinister -- including mine shaft space for storage. He exits the modern interior for the ramshackle looking exterior, a metal samples case in hand, glances at the pumps long dry and heads around to the back door of the shop that used to pump the gas, settles down on a rocking chair and rolls a smoke, gazing at the sky. It's set to lips, his gaze narrowing as his cheeks hollow on the drag. Then, fag dangling from lips, he brings his hands together in prayer, closing his eyes with another suck on the smoke...
Nick	And in that moment of relaxation, of blissful silence. It is soon shattered. "How do you keep track of all the properties you own?" The voice putting in such a query sounds familiar. Sinister has heard it a few times before but while it may bear some minor resemblance to another in terms of speech pattern, it is most definitely not Lucifer. A tall blond figure peers down, having seemingly sat upon the outcropping that protects the rocking chair from the elements. Long hair falls forward, covering some of the peacock feathered visitor's face as he looks down on his caller.
Sinister	"I have an internal little black book, with GPS reference points..." Sinister replies, gazing out at the deserted township beyond the gas station and fishing out the rolling tobacco and papers out, tucking in the matchbook to the fold and floating it up to the Archangel peering down. There's a smile around his smoke, then a glance upward at the face viewed inverted and from beneath. "You should really be asking how I can keep track of everyone and everything I'm talking with with which face," he gestures to a beaten up old couch in the porch overhang and exhales silver through his nose. "I wasn't sure if you'd show up. I'm genuinely unclear as to if I have any such gift to put in a direct call. I assume you heard it though, so... evidence bespeaks that case. How are you?"
Nick	The smile given to Raphael is returned to Sinister in kind. "I would assume it would be in a similar matter as what a certain Madrox does." A glance is given to the couch being gestured to and nods. Hands firmly grasp the edge of the overhang and the angel flips forward. Despite the presence of the wings, they're not utilized as he manages to twist in his downward path to swing himself into the sofa. Angels. Turning in the sofa, Raphael's wings appear to have just vanished, making it easier for him to rest his back where sofa arm and back meet. The new orientation allows for him to pull up one leg on to the sofa, foot dangling off the cushion while the other foot rests squarely upon the porch floor. It's not quite proper and quite frankly throws formality out of the window but- is anyone really complaining? "I would not quite call it a gift. Your prayers are not a dog whistle to which we must come at all times. But- if it is of import, of interest, or frankly we do not have anything else to do for that moment. It's possible someone might just answer." He nods to Sinister, "Considering your proximity to my relatives. Certain...formalities can be skipped. Which is generally more interesting than the norm." The angel pauses to the second part. A bit of a curious look. "I am well." He responds. "And I have noticed that this time you are being more specific with your requests."
Sinister	"Well, enough." Sinister isn't about to push that button to see what it does if repeatedly poked. The tobacco that was floating up, changes course and lands on the edge of the sofa and into the rogue-postured Archangel Raphael's reach. "You are, by the by, absolutely NOT what I'd ever have imagined you'd be. It's one of thos disjuncts that proves that no rule is absolute, except in theory." The briefcase floats up onto his lap and the chair continues to gently rock where he's sat in it, ash flicking to the wind as he enjoys the smoke. The catches are flicked with both thumbs, lid opened to reveal three little wireless electrodes that look like they should be attached to an EEG. They aren't, however. "I actually asked for you specifically, because you seem... more human than your siblings. I like Uriel, but this would be awkward trying to explain it to him. You might get it... I modified these." He indicates the electrodes. "Well. I /designed/ them, but with understanding of medical technology in mind. They read mindwaves, but they also transmit specific signals. I wonder if you'd be willing to test them with me, because I don't think -you- are likely to get overexcited and blow something up with them. Lucifer is a little exciteable at times."
Nick	Raphael reaches a hand up to collect the offered treat. Despite the posturing, his attention to the paper and what is inside is a bit more precise. By the end of it, he has his treat, it is lit and he is already drawing in a breath of the burning contents. Sinister's comments to how he has gone against expectation causes for him to free up his lips. "Being that we can look however we want. It is not surprising that we might not pick what others want us to look like. Or do you mean demeanor?" The angel looks to the box with the electrodes and then back to the doctor. "And what would be the motivation be behind such a device?"
Sinister	"I..." Sinister frowns, thinking about what he said, how he said it and shrugs. "I meant your personality. Who you are, seems far more relatable. Less otherworldly? Eh, that probably sounds like an insult." He shakes his head. "It isn't meant to be..." The devices are given a solid looking at, then he puts one on his own temple, setting the briefcase on the ground between rocking chair and sofa. "They tap into my brainwaves, but not my mind. And resonate a mirror to a partner brain. Essentially, transferring a mind-based ability to the host that wears the twin set. I've successfully managed to test them on my own flesh and blood, so to speak... but not on an Angel. Or anyone else, for that matter." He shrugs again, with a sigh. "If I went to be able to convey technopathy, I have to make sure it actually works."
Nick	Raphael nods, "Oh that. Well. Perhaps it would help to think to what I am usually considered the patron of. I suppose I could be a bit more rigid and traditional like the doctors you knew starting out. But, knowing what the world knows now- would doing that actually contribute to healing? Or would there be more of a push to have a better bedside manner?" He pauses. "...Although, granted there may be a bit of a split to that thought process. We do have another who is more...House...like? That show is recent, right?" No it is not. SO not recent. Raphael quietly listens to the explanation. "...Like Neo in the Matrix? Download a program?"
Sinister	There is a laugh at the observation and a glaring lack of response to whether House is recent. Nope, we are not touching that one with a ten foot pole. "Well, kind of, yes. That's actually a very good way of thinking about it, Raphael." Sinister nods, tapping the electrode on his own temple with his index finger and looking at the rather empty vicinity. "I figured also, that if you agreed to test it, here would likely not be too traumatic. There's not a lot of tech in the vicinity that isn't ... rather mundane." He sniffs, looks at the peacock archangel with lowered lashes, examining the drape over the sofa with a mild smirk-like expression. "You willing?"
Nick	There is a pause as Raphael considers what was requested and that it was tested previously. "I understand your testing it previously. I can also see some advantages, as well as disadvantages to it. But-" He tilts his head, seemingly trying to look the other doctor in the eye, "What is YOUR motivation for this?"
Sinister	"Oh, that's easy..." the chair rocks, the cigarette is smoked, the ash accumulates and falls as he eases himself into conversation in the abandoned township. "I don't trust myself and I've got to fix the machines in the other parallel dimensions, to recalibrate them to match the chronometry of /our/ dimension. That happens only when the synchronicity aligns -- so I have to give a half dozen people, some of them mutants, some of them meta, some of them Angelic... the ability to see machines the same way I do. Or you know, I'll have to split myself up in ways I don't enjoy the possibility of. But I want to make sure that an angel that knows devices, can benefit. Your brains and our brains are similar. But you can say that of liquid nitrogen and battery acid, that they're both liquids. That doesn't make them analogous. That's a false equivalency." Sinister leaves that just sitting there, looks at the old couch and the angel occupying it and smiles.
Nick	Raphael considers this. "Which would be why Uriel would have been a consideration earlier." He surmises. "...For the situation you described I can acknowledge the benefit of such a device and its need to be tested. But I would be remiss if I did not advise you to avoid its overuse. Do you have anything in place to prevent that?"
Sinister	"Other than taking it off my own temple and therefore severing the connection? No. I have precious little desire for people to be lollying around using my abilities willy nilly. That has the recipe for disaster written all over it," Nathaniel replies, considering his cigarette with a wrinkle of his nose as it's down to the nub of dog-end. He pinches it, rolls a fresh one from the pouch that remains nearby and looks over at Raphael, again. "All of which is moot, if it won't vibe with an angel brain."
Nick	Raphael still looks at Sinister, a thoughtful look upon his face. There's another draw of his own before it simply isn't there anymore. "Very Well." With a sigh, the angel's leg slides off of the seat as he rights himself to a proper sitting position. "But this is not a promise of future tests."
Sinister	Sinister's subsquent actions are rather anti-climactic. He just attaches the singular electrode to his temple and presses the 'on' button. With a slight wince, he settles in to finishing rolling the cigarette and looks around the deserted township once again. There's an old billboard, one or two streetlamps that still work and whatever is located underground, here. Not a whole lot of technology that could fry. Other than his own cellphone of course. "All things considered, I do not anticipate this /ever/ being regular."
Nick	Raphael glances to the electrode on Sinister's forehead.. "So, for this test, are you going with something simple like thinking of mundane items or walking through a small task, like how to make some treasured childhood recipe?"
Sinister	"For this, I'm going with something even simpler," lifting out the cushion tray beneath the electrodes in the briefcase, there's a flat hand-held gadget in the bottom, smooth and not remotely obvious as to its function. Sinister gestures at it. "I'm trying to transmit technopathy. We'll know that it's working properly, if you can pick up on the local machinery around you and..." he gestures at the device "...understand what that is."
Nick	Raphael looks to the device in the tray. He stares at it. "...Is it a phone?"
Sinister	Sinister stares at Raphael for a few long moments. Then he patiently plucks up the electrodes and puts one on each of the archangel's temples. They tickle a bit, like a very mild joy buzzer. Tinkering around with their placement a little, there's eventually a 'zing' feeling, like someone doused the brain in lemon sherbert. "Try again. You might want to pick it up and examine it." The technopathy that Sinister possesses is such that he intimately understands and controls any device of his creation, simply by touching it. He knows exactly how it works, what it does, what might be strange with it. But that's because it's -his- ability. Others, it's liable to manifest as 'reading' the machine by handling it or touching it, like psychometry, but for gadgets. And with the mind of an archangel, which -has- thoughts but isn't wired the same as a human, this MIGHT not work at all. Thus, not-so-exciteable test subject that might have a clue what a device does. In this case? It's actually a self-contained cardio-manometer and bio-rhythm sensor. It picks up on heart rate, bio-electric and oxygen saturation levels as a Star-trek esque put-it-on-a-person-for-everything diagnostic.
Nick	Raphael does not give any semblance of an apology in his expression. "...Consider that a control test." However once the ice cream headache effect comes into play, Raphael gives a frown. "Well...That is not a pleasant sensation." He observes. Following with the suggestion, Raphael picks up the device, turning it in his hand before flipping it over. "... He flips the device again...
Sinister	It doesn't appear to be any different on the bottom, other than... yes, that's where the sensors are imbedded. Inert, unless placed on the subject and activated by will, the battery won't turn on without command. "Science isn't safe and sound, it tends to be smelly, often accidental and prone to gigantic leaps and quiet, or not-so-quiet failures. Systematic progress is hard to achieve, easy to strive for and the urge to cut corners is strong in so many." Sinister watches the archangel. "Can you sense anything at all?"
Nick	"Science can also be SLOW..." Raphael adds in, focusing upon the sensors. Running a finger along them before he looks to Sinister, setting the device back down. "...I'm a little curious why you'd pick a medical diagnostic device to test me." Raphael comments, "What if some personal bias made me lean that way initially?"
Lucifer	"Precisely because he is a scientist. And a damn good one. He wouldn't use something on you, Lucifer, or anyone really if he thought he might get a bias opinion. Also, he might even take bias into account when deciphering his findings..." A voice comes just before the appearance of a ... not so Lucifer-esque version of Michael. The man has chosen brown hair, wavy and down to his shoulders. Green eyes over blue. He wears jeans and a plain sapphire blue tee shirt. As he appears, he has his hands up as if in surrender. "Don't dispair. I come in peace. I promise. No gimmicks. No ill words. Just...admiring the work you've chosen to do here." He...seems sincere enough...and after a moment he puts his hands down before gesturing towards Nathaniel. "Unless I have it wrong, Doctor Essex?"
Sinister	"Yes. It can be. I will note however, that I'm, well... extremely exceptional. To me, science is a matter of logical steps and a good deal of serendipitous happenstance involving lightbulb moments. Regulatory bodies and ethical review boards don't usually slide into my periphery vision." It's not said gloatingly, but he's also right. Nathaniel Essex -is- a doctor unlike any other on the planet and has for over a century, left the rest of humanity in the dust. THere's a clearing of the throat as he lights his second roll-up, chancing a look to Raphael's face and the device in hand. "Because you'd have an awareness of what you're picking up on, if it worked, Raphael. It doesn't LOOK like a diagnostic, does it? You wouldn't have known without letting your mind expand to it. You can't really bias something you have no inherant awareness of. I could've made a themo-nuclear powered egg-timer look like an elephant. I made a diagnostic look like a cellphone. Easier to disguise and carry around." There's a cease in the rocking of the rocking chair, the deserted township hiding a secret facility in the backwoods just got a little more populous and Sinister's attention ticks over to Michael, then to his hands as he holds them up to look at the palms. "Prayer-calling... is apparently conference calling..." he eyes Michael a little warily, then nods his head slow. "Data is gathering, consistently and clinically." He taps the electrode on his own temple, with his pinky finger. "I'm calibrating for Angelic physionomy, it's going to require analysis."
Nick	"You are correct." Raphael states, "It does not look like one up front. The amount of functionality inside is impressive." Hearing the other angel's voice, Raphael looks over to the brown haired figure. "Hello Michael." Raphael greets, looking over to his brother. "Did you come to take a closer look at the diagnostic device? It is pretty well crafted. And the condensed size would make it ideal for a doctor on the go." A glance is given over to the other patron of medicine, not stating the phrase that's clearly between the lines. Or possibly a field hospital. "Well, my brother and I do have some overlapping responsibilities and if at any point you weren't clear about who to speak to..." Raphael shrugs, "Either way, even if we have different approaches to them, I'm sure we can both appreciate this." Raphael points to the device that he just identified.
Lucifer	Michael gives a half smile and then a half shrug. "Couldn't let you have all the fun now, could I brother?" Asking this and his half smile turns full on. There's a lesser air about him, particularly if one is able to judge a persons aura or demeanor. Michael's is a lot less grrr than it has been in the past. Stepping closer, giving the cellular looking device a closer look, he hmms and then nods. "Very impressive. But I shouldn't be surprised. You are not outmatched in your field by far, Doctor." Offering these words before taking in a breath. "I perhaps also took advantage that Raphael was here...to come and offer my apologies. I know that each time I arrive things always turn on it's head and it's always my fault. Most times I mean it. Sometimes I don't. And I wanted to...extend an olive branch. As it were." Then he's gesturing towards the device. "Angelic physionomy? What are you hoping to glean with this device from an angel then?"
Sinister	"Glean... the area of the brain responsible for the parallel in my own. If what I'm sensing is correct, it's not quite in the same place as it is in mine, which stands to reason. Your heads are wired differently, even if you've a lot in common with the likes of us..." Sinister replies with a cautious half-smile. Flattery will get you acknowledged at least, even if that honesty is hard one and perhaps a little black. He gives the second archangel a long regard, then seems to relax at least a little bit. Show no fear, even if the champion against the forces of darkness tends to instill it in his enemies. It's part of Michael's show, after all -- doctors and protector against the dark. "This is mostly about your brains and me lending you my gift. Initially, testing needed to be on one of you that had any clue regarding technology in the first place. Lucifer is... mystical. I've always at least hoped that wasn't the case in all of the choir. Medicine, at least, isn't just leeches and cold compresses. At least not any more." He looks at the device in Raphael's hand. "I've a lot of devices like that one. Over time, I wanted to make things compact and portable, because it isn't always convenient to have a whole facility to work in. Triage and diagnostics happen in the field perhaps more often."
Nick	"So long as this meeting remains of the happy variety, I'll accept some of the responsibility for his arrival." Raphael responds, glancing over to Sinister. The medical device is set back down once more into the bin. "That device would be very beneficial to many. If you haven't already, perhaps a consideration of making it more readily available after you are done," ahem "field testing with it should be done." "Well, after you handle that asteroid problem."
Lucifer	Michael lowers his head a moment. "If I can be of any assistance, do let me know. Course, it is going to be much harder to get Lucifer to believe I am truly sorry and wish to help rather than hinder." Saying this much more before he looks to the device and then back to Nathaniel. "Compact designs work rather well. I think the field is where a lot of devices and practices were discovered due to the necessity of the moment. Clever out the box thinking of medics and the like. You do the same, I feel."
Sinister	"The cure for Haemorrhagic fever, or rather the treatment for it until the individual can begin recovery, is one of those examples. I remember it well. Korean war of the last century. And no, you are probably in the bad books for a while, Michael. I still want to punch you, but I'm fighting the urge, because we are nothing if not savagely civilized. Dignity!" Sayeth the Sam the Eagle at the heart of Nathaniel Essex? Something like that. "Field testing has been done. Just not..." a hand is waved toward the generalized mass of North America, encompassing everything from sea to shining sea "...amongst them, where as you've noted, Science moves slowly. And is mired by committees. I feel I designed a sleek fish here..." he nods to the device "...and putting it to committee would turn it into a bloated walrus." Another silence. "But I suppose I could spread a few things into certain areas. I probably should with a few of the things I perfected." That last is said blandly and noncommitally, insensible in tone. "But... if you actually want to help," he says to Michael "...you could wear the electrodes that Raphael's fashionably sporting and I could measure two Angelic brains?"
Nick	Raphael hmms as Sinister assesses the likelihood of Lucifer believing Michael. "...Deep cuts take longer to heal and takes a bit of effort to mend properly" Raphael comments, not feeling the need to explain much further than that. Doctors and patrons of them after after all... Hearing Sinister's suggestion, Raphael smiles, lifting a hand up to gesture to the aforementioned electrodes. "There's a chance you might get a twinge of a headache initially but it does go away after about a minute."
Lucifer	Michael nods his head to what Nathaniel says. "I deserve at least a punch. If not a full beat down. I appreciate that you refrain." Saying this as he moves over towards Raphael and takes the electrodes that have been gestured at. He looks at them and then back to Nathaniel. "If memory serves me..." He places one on each temple and then moves to sit on the floor with his legs crossed. "Is this correct?" Asking at least that much before he thinks on a few side things, but his features only seem distracted for a moment.
Sinister	"Correct, one on each temple -- " And once again, the electrodes zing as they bond to the skin, giving a faint discomfort, like a mild joy buzzer, then the feeling after a bit of adjustment, of having the brain doused in sherbert lemon. At least it's a 'zesty' kind of temporary headache, right? For Michael, he digs in his pockets, a secondary when he wondered if he'd have to double-test Raphael. A pouch, like a small travelling toiletry bag, is removed, unzipped and regarded thoughtfully. A thing that looks slightly like a velcro sticky pad is produced, held a moment, then handed over. One side is 'sticky' in the way of a kind of gelled 'hook' grip which prickles. The other is a black surface, imbedded with a raised microchip covered in blackened plastiskin. "Give it a moment and I might have to adjust the pads a bit, but what do you think -this- is, Michael?"
Nick	No longer testing anything, Raphael steps back so the doctor can can work on his next subject. As the next test item comes out, Raphael studies it from afar, holding back on the wish to ask questions about it. He can wait until Michael identifies it.
Lucifer	Michael blinks and sort of shakes his head a bit at that first little zippy-zap that hits him when he puts on the electrodes. "Ah... that was... interesting." Then Nathaniel is handing him something which he takes and looks over. He pokes it, the sticky side attaches to one finger and then he sort of does a open-close touch of his other finger against the rougher edge. "Feels like...sandpaper. Sticky sandpaper.... which is weird..." He pauses. "Is this used to hold something together?"
Sinister	"Hmmm, no not quite.. but that tells me..." that the electrodes need to be adjusted, which is just what he does, moving them small degrees. The handling of it after the movement of the electrodes brings a gradual awareness. This is a nerve grafting device. It sends a very clever level of ionic pulse along a specific neural pathway at the basal ganglions in the brainstem. It's microchip is rather clever and alternates pulses to different regions, targetting the amigdala and fight-flight centers. In an individual in a state of shock, it would be absolutely life saving. On someone not, it would probably make them turn into the energizer bunny and gain several units of strength poundage...
Nick	"Well, you were twice informed..." Raphael reminds, not that Michael needs it. His smile is still present as he watches Michael playing nice with the other brother's significant other. Like Raphael, the first guess was off. But after Sinister finishes the adjustment, he looks over to Michael to wait for the moment of realization to be shown upon the Patron of Law and Order's face.
Lucifer	Michael blinks. Looks to the thing on his finger. Then he blinks again. "Ah... it's a nerve grafting device...? Oh this is interesting. So this can help ebb the nervous system if someone's gone into shock. Or perhaps even out some nervous disorders." He looks it over again. "It's so tiny too. Amazing." It's interesting the 180 degree flip that Michael has when he's not being an absolute douche nozzle. "Huh. This is... really interesting...almost like I can feel the way it's supposed to work..."
Sinister	Sinister smiles, apparently pleased with the results. He places his index finger on the electrode on his OWN temple and the connection, the understanding fades out over a few seconds -- knowing how the current works, the correct amperage, the specific programming of the smart chip inside that was able to identify targets by certain proteins... gone to a memory. He plucks it off his temple and palms it a couple of times, smoothing the surface with the pad of one finger. Then he places his back in the briefcase, glancing to Michael. "You can put them in their respective foam slots when you're disconnected." He says in a pleased tone. "It seems to work accurately enough, though I think calibration is going to be necessary. Thank you." A pause as he looks between peacock and crow, "Both of you."
Nick	Raphael nods in acknowledgement of the thanks. "This was an interesting visit." He responds, looking over to Michael and then back to Sinister, "Are there any other matters that need to be addressed right now?"
Lucifer	Michael nods, reaching to take the electrodes off and slides them into their respective places as instructed. "Well. I have done what I set to do here, and helped a little bit in the process. I suppose... visiting Lucifer will need to be a more delicately planned event..." He glances to Raphael. "May even need your help there, brother. Perhaps. If Lucifer would seem welcome to you visiting...and bringing me along. Or perhaps you can ease him into the idea..." Something will have to work, right? He stands then and looks between the two. "I believe I shall leave you two in this moment. Thank you for allowing me." And with that, the Archangel turns, takes a few steps and disappears just as brilliantly as he arrived.
Sinister	"For the help part? Yes. I have to work on some programming now, so that adjustments are minimal. It might mitigate some of the initial discomfort, also..." There's a shooting star just as Michael departs, visible before he vanished, as if some promise or herald of future times, was made. There's a bow of the head from Sinister as the seemingly deserted village sleeps. Then, with a sworl of purple energy from his core, Sin vanishes with the creak of the rocking chair.