c-c-c-catchall early meetings,

[enarms]

Who: John Watson (enarms) & various
What: John's managed to arrange like 20 meetings and they're happenin here
When: various times
Where: various places
Warning(s): murder chats? medical shenanigans? etc, will update as necessary

Comments

makes finger gun motions.

[fisherwife]

[The morning after her chat with John, Mipha arrives at his home at roughly 9:30. It seems a perfectly decent time to her, though she's aware some people might consider it 'early morning'. Or 'too early in the morning.'

Hopefully John isn't one of those people or she'd feel bad for potentially waking him up.

She also considers knocking on the door, but she doesn't want to wake any potential roommates up either... So she sends a quick text instead.]

Good morning, this is Mipha. [Which he'd already know since the message would say who it was from but. Shut up. Manners.] I've arrived at your home. Are you up?

pchoo pchoo hello you 👉👉

[enarms]

[ the text delivers and a minute or so passes until, instead of a response, there's movement from inside and somebody coming for the door. John is, apparently, not one of those people. somewhere between yesterday's conversation and this morning's meeting, it's entirely slipped his mind that there's anything he might need to really prepare himself for, and so when he opens the door to greet her—

it's fine. this is fine. his smile, wide and inviting, falters long enough for him to swallow down the swell of alarm that crops up tight at the back of his throat-- and then returns. perhaps slightly weaker, somewhat self-aware in the apology inherent in the sheepish lift of his mouth. ]

Morning.

surprise 2/2

[enarms]

[ —oh, shit, right. manners. standing back from the door, he waves an arms vaguely towards the inside of his house. ]

Sorry, come in.

oh john...

[fisherwife]

[In the face of the obvious alarm, Mipha simply clasps her hands in front of her and smiles understandingly. She's patient, waiting until his greeting to dip her head in a little nod of greeting in return] Good morning.

[She steps in past him and inside, automatically glancing around with interest, though she doubts the interior is much different from her own residence.]

I'm sorry if my appearance startled you. I understand it's a little strange at first, if one isn't used to seeing such things.

how does one politely greet a fish lady princess while internally screaming

[enarms]

— No, no. Not at all. Just—

[ and he doesn't actually have an end to that sentence because yes, exactly as she's said, it is a little strange at first and her appearance has somewhat startled him and there really isn't any getting away from that when he'd forewarned her it was likely so. just. follow on into the tiny hovel of a building you are currently forced to call a house, yeah?

yeah. ]

We must seem a bit odd to you, too. Those of us who are - you know. Not. [ ... whatever it is that you are. ] Do you want anything to drink?

not externally screaming is a good start

[fisherwife]

[His denial is met with a raised-eyebrow sort of expression (except she doesn't have eyebrows so like, eye...ridge...??) and quiet amusement. You, uh. You sure about that, John?

She giggles lightly] Really, it's quite alright. As I said yesterday, it's better to ask questions and foster better understanding. For example, you humans look quite similar to the Hylians where I'm from, though your ears are different.

[The offer of a drink has her hesitating lightly and she smiles sheepishly.] Water, please? [It just seems so cliche, especially coming from a fish...]

excellent, nailing it

[enarms]

[ John nods out his assent, barely really registering the fish/water connection in the relief of it being absolutely for the best that she chose it: the only other things he has in is an already growing collection of local booze. he's off to the other side of the room where the "kitchen" lives to fetch her a drink as he continues on with, ]

Ears? [ ah yes, smalltalking with aliens about aliens to try and ease himself into the acceptance of aliens. classic. ]

[fisherwife]

[Mipha watches him with open interest, even if he's not doing anything terribly interesting. It's just nice to see people in their more-or-less natural habitat.]

Yes. The humans I've met so far have rounded ones, but Hylians have long, pointed ears. I've met a couple of people that are similar, but they tell me they're called 'elves.'

[enarms]

Oh. [ oh.



hm.

that, apparently, is all he's going to do with that information and conversational thread. is that because it successfully alerted him to the presence of elves here? yes. there is no safe space. anyway, it doesn't take him long to come back to her with an odd ceramic beaker full of water. the contents of this house are Strange, and he tries not to worry about it. ]

Here. Anything to eat? We've not got much in, but I'm sure I can dig up something.

for Mercy, Thesa station

[enarms]

[ John's shot a text off and thought himself up to Thesa (the instant teleportation thing isn't going to feel normal fast, but it is handy)— and he's headed straight to the mess hall, straight to the coffee. in waiting for her he'll go to pick up a couple of espresso shots and get himself situated with a pad of paper he's picked up from the dorms - may as well take some notes if they're going to be thinking out loud.

hindsight tells him that neither of them really know who they're looking for. but they know where they're meeting, they know when, and maybe the coffee will give it away, along with John glancing around for company. ]

[valcurie]

( she's not far behind in thinking herself up to Thesa, just give her a minute or two to get herself situated. she takes off the wings and halo angely bits off her suit since she doesn't actually need them. for now the white of her suit is hard to not take as a doctor's white. plus, it's got primum non nicer on her shoulder so it's a bit on the nose.

when she gets to the canteen, it's not hard for an intelligent person like her to put to two and two together. man looking for company, with coffee. maybe he's a bit shorter than what she expected, since doctors are, in her experience, taller or grander or just somehow larger than life, but she smiles at him all the same as she approaches and sits across from him.

in a moment she has produced a notebook of her own. see? colleagues. ) Hello there, John. Ready to get down to business?

[enarms]

[ and herein he finds himself, not unusually, seeming less than impressive. decked out in the shirt, jumper and jeans that keep him feeling mostly like he might not actually be on the verge of insanity, entirely unremarkable to look at, and in sweeps Angela Ziegler, looking thoroughly impressive by merit of both biology and dress. even without the trimmings, her suit would qualify as a conversation piece absolutely anywhere on his planet.

wow. ... alright, head in the game, John Watson. head in the game.

and she's already got her notebook out. he can tell they're going to get on swimmingly.

a smile to greet her properly, and John raises his brow and his pen in a display of absolute assent. ] Ready as I'll ever be. Good to see you. Now for the fun of working out where to start.

[valcurie]

( She's not a woman who has to be impressed to give respect; she's just glad that there's another here whom she can, without qualification, call collegue. Even if a lot of the research she herself is responsible for is probably going to be over John's head, they come from a common background, and, to judge by the matching pads, mindsets. She gives him a pleased little smile at the poise of his pen as she reaches for a cup of coffee.

After a sip: ) How about we get to know each other? ( She laughs. ) Not at the beginning, of course. Did you happen to have any involvement with those draughts Lysa was passing around? Either taking one, or administering one.

[enarms]

No. Call me paranoid, but I wasn't keen on getting involved with a magical mystery brew.

[ he almost stops there and sends the question back, but— that wasn't actually overly helpful, and there's more to say, so, ]

I kept catching the edges of conversations about what had been happening with them, walked past a few rooms that I didn't realise were housing patients until later. Eventually accidentally stumbled into a room where somebody was shuddering through the side-effects, but at that point I was— [ a slight hesitation: wasted isn't the most professional wording ] out of commission.

Yourself?

[valcurie]

Well, you know what they say about paranoia.

( A few things, actually. But whatever witticism she maybe specifically thinking, she doesn't say, instead moving on to answer his question. While speaking to him she looks up at him every so often. For the first bit, though, her lips curve into a grin and her eyes light with unspoken understanding. Being as mindful as she is about preserving her body's peak as long as possible, she was the sober designated adult that evening. )

Ah. Well. I took one of the mixtures myself. I had two bruised ribs and minor abrasions from a run in with the local wildlife. All of this was healed within ten minutes. Oddly enough, the side effects lingered longer than my wounds did. It's not as quick as what I'm used to, but it's still remarkably effective for something--natural. Unprocessed.

Of course, the biggest issues are the side effects. But I do believe there is real potential here.

[enarms]

[ he listens closely and well, taking the opportunity to sip at his coffee and get that caffeine involved in the process— he hadn't known that she'd had such close contact with the potions, and the fact is that makes this whole venture seem a little less removed: ultimately he'd objected to the things on principle and observation, but personal experience puts them in a much better place for understanding.

John nods out his approval and understanding - if she, as a medical professional, thinks some aspect of these things is worth salvaging, he can get behind it. especially given they ten minutes to heal up some bruised ribs, side effects aside.

and the next thing to do is talk about the importance of isolating and understanding the key ingredients but... hang on. ]

Just to back up a bit - ten minutes is a slow heal for you?

[valcurie]

( The sweet bitter bite of black bergamot tea washes back as she regards him, eyes widening every so slightly. Her surprise is at his. She had said she was from the future, hadn't she? At least fifty years as far as she can tell--his time was right on the cusp of a real technological boom. Surely he, even though he'd been living in, could have seen it for what it was?

Once her tea is swallowed, she gives an elegant smile and rests one of her hands on her notebook. )

Let me qualify my statement: in absolutely ideal conditions, with the proper facilities, for such minor wounds. I mentioned I was from your future, didn't I?

for Charles, House 36

[enarms]

[ it's a prompt two minutes before their allotted time that John arrives outside number 36, still not quite having a decent grip on the amount of time needed to travel the higgledy piggeldy streets here. he knocks on arrival and will be waiting with a bag slung over his shoulder, wherein waits whatever offering he's come bearing. ]

[axiomed]

[ Charles straightens the folds on his pants before moving to open the door. His smile is warm and welcoming as he wheels to the side to let John enter before shutting the door behind them. ]

Welcome. Please, take a seat anywhere you like.

[enarms]

Hello. Thanks.

[ and so he does, helping himself to what he can only assume is the comfiest of the available seats their generous housing has to offer. sarcasm where sarcasm is due, he really cannot wait to move out of this street.

sat down and situated, John's quick to start rooting through his bag even as he speaks. ]

I brought the best of both. Teabags for hot [ because he hasn't pinched any coffee yet. out of the bag comes a mystery bottle: John's been dabbling in local beverages ] and whatever this is for cold and probably alcoholic.

[axiomed]

You've come well prepared.

[ Charles nudges the table towards John so that he can unpack its content onto it. ]

I'm surprised you wished to see me so soon.

[ Most people hold off on seeing Charles once he drops the telepathy bomb. He can't fault them for it. ]

[enarms]

[ John, somehow not having fully made the small step it takes to get from this man could single-handedly ensure the safehousing of the ship's criminal output with his mind to Charles' surprise at his choosing to arrange a visit, casts a vaguely questioning glance at him as he fishes out the teabags and sets the lot onto the table to make way for his freeing a notepad and pen from the bag, ]

Yeah? Seemed logical to get on with it sooner rather than later.

[axiomed]

Of course, but what do you have in mind?

[ Charles is dutiful enough to get the cups and starts pouring hot water. The smell of tea fills his senses and his smile goes a touch fonder. ]

[enarms]

Honestly? I don't know. But I thought it better to not know in a room where we could throw ideas around than sitting on my own scratching my head.

[ because it's... sort of a gargantuan dilemma they're facing here. and it's going to take many heads - for now, two will have to do. ]

I've got a list of things that we can do to start us off. And I'm starting to make lists of names of people we might need to reach out to. But after that, God knows. There's a lot of work in this. We'll need more hands, that's a definite.

[axiomed]

Hmm.

[ Should he recommend Bruce? While Charles trusts him, he highly doubts that people will take to him so easily and a secret identity won't last long in a place like this. ]

I would also limit candidates to a certain age. People with experience helps too. Perhaps we should start with a list of qualities?