2010-03-23: Doctor Visit


Hank_icon.jpg Marshall_icon.jpg

Summary: Marshall takes his theories to a geneticist.

Date: March 23, 2010

Doctor Visit

Rating: G

Xavier Mansion - Medical Bay

The Medical Bay contains the latest medical equipment to patch up students and X-Men with the smallest and worst injuries. Six beds line the walls for injured patients. Equipment lines the walls, medicine in the cabinets, and more serious medical supplies locked in cabinets. One this about this room it screams sterilization.

He's been trying to catch a moment where the Med Bay didn't look too active, but with everything going on, it's not been all that possible. Marshall comes in anyway, and looks about, trying to find one of the people that might actually have a clue.

Hank is presently working at a device that seems to have two separate DNA profiles side by side, and is running a comparison. At present his left shoulder is swathed in bandages and his normally lustrous fur is dull, not with filth, he's just that worn out. Definitely had better days. As far as clues go — well, you can do worse than Hank McCoy, the man is widely considered one of the premier experts in genetics and chemistry in the world.

Fortunately, despite Marshall's lack of knowledge in many fields, he does know who Dr. McCoy is. He grins and begins walking over towards the blue one. He comes up to the desk and pauses for a moment, eyes on the face of the doctor. He watches the movements with interest/.

Hank's expression is intent, he is very focused on the task at hand, of course eventually he'll notice he's not alone and turns to see who's there. A smile then and an extended hand. Once the shake is done he signs the words he's speaking with an ease that speaks of long practice. "Ah, Mister Danvers, I presume. Hank McCoy, how can I be of service young man?" Hank hasn't ever met Marshall, but he's had the chance to read a basic file on him. After all, Hank is fluent in ASL, and is likely to be teaching…well…just about anything. At least he's pleasant! That's something, right?

When Hank speaks, Marshall's eyes are focussed on the moving lips. He does shake the doc's hand before he grins a little. "Yes, sir." Oddly, Marshall's speech is… perfect. Though, he does speak in the cadences and order of actual ASL, he just properly pronounces words, moreso than most deaf folks. "Doctor McCoy. "Busy?" He asks, tilting his head. "Wanted talk doctor. Have question about maybe power figured out."

"Ah, you read lips…do you prefer just to lip read, or should I continue with sign?" Once Marshall answers, Hank will adjust (or not) to suit. "You enunciate very well." He compliments. "So…if I am understanding you, you believe you have figured out what your power is and need me to confirm if your suspicions are correct, yes?" A toothy smile. "I'd be delighted to assist. Ask me your question and we'll figure out the answer together, mm?"

"Didn't a week ago. Too loud. Until watch Robyn. Then get right speech." Marshall says. "Lip fine. Used to it. Sign good, but not necessary." He explains. He pulls out a piece of paper. "Seem to learn what watch." He says, turning the paper into a well-folded origami crane. He looks up with a half-grin. "Is maybe related to headache?"

"Fascinating. So, by watching someone do something you believe you can learn whatever task they were doing?" Hank nods thoughtfully. "I've heard of at least one person with a similar ability, a villain named Taskmaster, he has what he calls 'Photographic Reflexes', in a similar vein to an eidetic memory he had the ability to duplicate skills just by observation. It could very well be that your power is in a similar vein. Further, being a principally mental ability that would indeed explain the headaches you've been getting. You have two options, we can try to train this ability by tasking you with many new talents, and thus we can map your limits by observation — or I can give you something for the pain." The last said with a bratty smile.

Marshall pays attention then laughs at the last. "No pain now. Once talk learn, pain go. No pain origami. No pain learn butter." He explains before pausing. "Daisuke put Paula Deen TV on. Butter everywhere." He shakes his head sadly. "If think you should watch more… can do that. Not hard to watch and pay attention." He says with another nod. "Suggestion of possible? Not too sure…"

"Well, my suggestion would be to arrange a series of skill demonstrations — each skill involving different talents, from the physical to the intellectual. By charting your progress in acquiring the skills we can methodically figure out what the nature of your gift is and then proceed from there." A broad smile. "As the resident Jack-of-all-Trades, I suspect that I'll be giving many of the demonstrations though lamentably I'm in fairly bad shape, and won't be up to physical tasks of any complexity." Hank smiles. "How does that sound?"

There's a pause before Marshall nods very quickly and easily. "Work me." He grins. "People more understand when power might be, rather than when power 'I don't know'." he chuckles. "Thank you." He adds at the end, placing the crane on the desk to stay here. He's gotten to where he's making them fairly regularly now. And his roommate seems to like them.

"Thank you." For the paper crane. Hank smiles then. "Let me come up with a regimine of skill training for you, and then we'll implement it starting tomorrow." He takes a scrap of paper then, and folds it into an origami unicorn, and hands that to Marshall. "Why don't we meet after breakfast, and we'll go over what I planned out, mm?"

There's a bright, happy nod from Marshall as he ooohs at the unicorn. He hasn't tried that yet. That's a new one on him. He places it in his his breast pocket and nods. "Ok. Thank you, doctor. Sleep time coming soon." He says, extending a hand again. He's really a bright, chipper type of student. One of those they don't have too much lately.

Hank is rather fond of bright and chipper, it is sort of a way of life for him. "Excellent, Mister Danvers. Sleep well, and I shall see you after breakfast then." His ginormous hand engulfs Marshall's, yet the grip is not at all threatening, especially with the smile the man offers like a gift. He shakes the hand warmly, and then winks before he gets back to work on the DNA check he was running.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License