OOC: Appointments

[unfringed]

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May 14th, night, action

[quantumtangled]

[Something has changed today and it's hitting him hard tonight. It's unpleasant, like being hungry and yet different. What he's supposed to do to satisfy this strange need, he doesn't have a clue. He'll carry on working and ignore it until it becomes more clear...]

[unfringed]

[Walter usually worked until late anyway, but today he was sitting in the lab trying to cook up the latest batch of drugs for that strange deaf man. He leaned back on his stool, watching as the solution bubbled and looked over at September.]

A thought occurs to me, my friend.

[quantumtangled]

[Too many distractions for Walter around these parts. It's a good thing he thinks he can do most of the work himself... so far.]

Yes?

[unfringed]

Why is it that all flavors of pudding exist and yet bacon pudding never took off?

[quantumtangled]

The history of food and... flavors has been lost.

[So solemn about that question.]

[unfringed]

I'll need to make you bacon then. Perhaps bacon and pepper pudding. I wonder if I can get the formulation right.

[quantumtangled]

Why?

[unfringed]

Because everyone should taste bacon.

[He seems pleased that September didn't refuse and he looks back at his drug.]

[quantumtangled]

I cannot. All I will taste is the pepper.

[Which is fine.]

Do not let it concern you.

[unfringed]

[Oh, he seems a little disappointed by that. He was hoping to make bacon pepper pudding.

He doesn't bother to hide his disappointment as he adjusts the Bunsen burner beneath the beaker.]

Maybe I can make bacon flavored peppers.

[quantumtangled]

[He just can't wrap his mind around why, and he won't lie about it.]

[He also looks a bit rundown.]

If you would like.

[unfringed]

[He nods and stares at the flask until it hits the right moment, then turns it off and removes it using gloves to cool. He glances up at September as he readies the next batch.]

Do you really not sleep at all?

[quantumtangled]

[He keeps on gutting a flashlight, of all things, taking it apart and sorting the bits.]

Yes.

[Action: July 12th]

[cajunspice]

[It took several attempts to get Remy in front of the door that he stood at. Over several days. He had slowly been making progress each time, getting to the Flame building, getting to the correct floor, getting to the door. Even then, he had chickened out and left even more times without knocking. He didn’t consider himself a coward in most situations, but as he was about to introduce himself to a scientist that, from what he understood did experiments Remy would normally run from. He wanted to run.

Cursing himself to acting so childish, at only a first meeting that might lead to nothing. He shouldn’t be worrying. Just say hi! Ask some questions… and get the hell out of there afterwards. He could do it. He could!

Shaking himself off, Remy raised his hand and knocked at the door.]

[Action: July 12th]

[unfringed]

[A knock? Walter had been reading at one of his many desks strewn about his shared apartment with September. He'd checked the tome that girl on the journals had been speaking about - the one about human evolution - and had been reading and taking notes since then. It wasn't difficult to follow, nothing half as dense as the ZFT manual, but it was certainly interesting. The knock, however, brought him out of his own ponderings about human mutation and what it could mean for his world.

He blinked blearily at the door, then got up, pulling his ratty (or, as he'd like to say, well-loved) bathrobe around him. It only took 15 steps to the door and then he opened it, just a crack, peering out.

Someone unfamiliar stood outside.]

Are you a travelling salesman?

[cajunspice]

[That... was not the answer Remy was expecting.] Non... ya get many of those 'round here?

[Shaking off the unusual greeting, he forced a smile, sunglasses pushed up well to cover his eyes. No point in showing his mutation unless the man could help him in the first place.] Monsieur Bishop, [Not that Remy needed a real confirmation who the man was, looking through his journal told him enough, but there was a certain thing called manners.] 'm Remy LeBeau, was hopin' I might be able to pick ya brains regardin' ya expertise.

[unfringed]

I used to. I didn't mind them, but I did mind the things they sold.

[He opened the door a little wider, wondering if this man was like Loki - blind. Or if he was simply one of those strange people who liked wearing sunglasses inside. There was a song about that. He remembered it.

But the man in the song wasn't-- He tilted his head, parsing the accent.]

New Orleans. Fascinating. Yes yes, come in.

[Opening the door a little wider, Walter stepped aside. Ah, now he remembered the song! As Walter moved away from the door to go back to his desk, he started humming Sunglasses at Night to himself.]

[cajunspice]

Good ear. [Most could pick up he was a southerner, some that he was Louisianan, not many pinned it to New Orleans, but the use of French did help aid the guessing.

Taking the offer to step inside, Remy did so, casting a look around the place before speaking.]

I hear ya specialize in some more unusual sides of science, that not many others cover.

[unfringed]

--at nigh-- Hm? Oh, yes, I've always liked languages. [And cultures, the differences even in America based on geographic location and thus ethnic make-up are wonderfully diverse.

He eased himself onto a lab stool and then looked at Remy with renewed interest. A fellow scientist perhaps?]

Yes, I do. Are you also interested in fringe science? I'm reading this wonderful thesis on mutations in humans right now.

[cajunspice]

[Remy couldn't hold back a chuckle. What a coincidence, guess he didn't have to approach the topic that slowly after all, or explain too much of that.]

Funnily 'nough, I got a bit of first hand experience in that. [He tilted his sunglasses down enough to reveal his unusual eye colouration.]

[unfringed]

In theses or muta--

[Oh dear God! Walter jumps at the sight of Remy's eyes and takes a step back, hand on his chest. He's never seen eyes like that, even after all he's experienced since joining the Fringe Division.

The shock wears off quickly enough and he rushes forward, suddenly, making a grab for Remy's hands, wanting to pull them and the sunglasses down.]

Let me see! What caused this? Were you born this way?

[cajunspice]

[Being grabbed at wasn't that off putting, but Remy was use to it being from younger femmes. Walter really wasn't his type.

It did however send a bit of a shiver up his back, one he tried to ignore and push back. Scientists, they would never sit right again with Remy. Thanks Essex. Instead Remy removed and pocketed the sunglasses, given that Walter let him loose long enough to do so.]

Born with them, far as I know. Memory don't generally go back that far, hein?

[unfringed]

Fascinating.... [A color mutation of not only the iris, but the eyeball itself. An inversion?] Inversion of colors... White to black... Depending on the color spectrum either blue or green originally...

[He mumbles to himself mostly, not noticing how uncomfortable Remy is as Walter peers and prods at him. He can't help but want to open Remy's eyes more, to see if the black goes all the way around the globe of the eye, or if it's just in the visible area.]

It's not heterochromia iridum, or even a variant thereof... Amazing... Do your parents have this same mutation? Anyone in your family line?

[cajunspice]

[Most of that went well over Remy's head, but didn't bother him. It wasn't his field of expertise. Now if they were talking about how to crack open a Brown Safe Monumental round vault door, give him five and a half minutes, on a bad day.

Remy will leave the science to Walter.]

Wouldn't know, was adopted. 'nd I came to talk to ya 'bout what comes with the eyes.

[unfringed]

Adopted? I see...

[Then it was possible the mutation was genetic, passed through the family line, but unlikely. He'd seen those with genetic mutations and they tended to stick together to an almost alarming degree. Like Edina. But there was no hum. What song did he sing?

Walter turned away and closed his eyes, bouncing his hand along to the memory of the old rhythm.]

Hard artichokes ra~rely keep... Norwegian elephants, Singapore sleep.

[Yes, that was it. Genetic mutations passed through the family. Something else came with it - that's what Remy was saying. Walter swiveled his head to the side, curious now.]

What else is there? I'll need a thorough explanation.