2011 08 19 Hey Lady Can T You See I M Trying To Save The Wor

Log Title:
Hey! Lady! Can't You See I'm Trying to Save the World?

Dr. Nemesis, Siryn

IC Date:
August 19th, 2011


Brief log summary::
Siryn hassles Doc meanly


There is no TS in this log::

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Only a day ago that Dr. Nemesis was given the run of the X-Mansion. It was only this morning that he had put together a suitable laboratory and officespace down in the bowels of the Med Bay. And it is tonight, right at this moment that the good Doctor is occupied, focused upon the research he's managed to gather from not only here but from Emma Frost's facilities as well.
So when we join our adventuring medical man, we find him in front of a gleaming six monitor display computer terminal with a myriad of data flowing before him. At his side there are various containers and facilities for the storage of those containers, as well as some centrifuges and a myriad of samples. His focus is there on his work at the moment… in fact it's been there for the last ten hours unmindful of the world without or the mansion as a whole.

The young woman who walks through the medlab's doors is perhaps looking for someone in particular. She steps inside, her eyes skim the room, and when the person she thought to find is not here but someone else is, she says in her lilting brogue, "Excuse me…. I'm sorry t' bother ye, I was lookin' fer Hank. Is he around?"

The man in white shifts slightly, his brow furrowed as he focuses his blue-eyed gaze upon her. One eyebrow cocks slightly as he murmurs, "Siryn." His nose twitches a bit as he looks back at his display, "The good Dr. McCoy is probably in Avenger's mansion at the moment messing himself over the data I gave him two days ago, only figuring it all out now. So no, I doubt he's 'around'."
There's a click as one of the displays flicker and suddenly shift to a data display of Siryn herself, her school records, some of the files that Xavier keeps on her. Dr. Nemesis turns to affix her with his steady glare, "Is there something you needed or are you just endangering all of mutantkind on a whim?"

Her own blue eyes narrow slightly. The man knows who she is. And that comment was uncalled for. A frigidly cold tone enters her voice. "Excuse me?"

"Ah, the latter." Doctor Nemesis turns back to the computer displays, hitting a few keys on one off-handed keyboard and then flicking one hand to the side gesturing absently. "Alright, take a good look, enjoy what you see. If I need something screamed at loudly I'll be sure to call you, or if I need help finishing a bottle of whiskey."

"I dinna know at the moment who ye are, ye bloody bastard, but I'll tell ye this much. Ye'll keep a civil tongue in yer head or I'll thoroughly enjoy makin' ye puke yer guts out all over yer nice shoes," Terry retorts sharply. "I came in lookin' fer Hank. Since yer not him and clearly not worth me time speakin' with, I'll be sure t' avoid th' medlab from here on out."

"I'm Doctor Nemesis, an old friend of the family. The family being mutantness." The man in white squints sidelong at her, then clicks a button. "Is there a medical emergency?" The good doctor turns to face her fully, hands resting on his hips as he lets his research draw to a halt for a moment. "If there is then let's go. If there's not, then wonderful. I'll not see you here again and our lives will go on happily."

Theresa ffts softly. "If yer the only doctor in this buildin', I'll take me chances on dyin' first." He's managed to enrage the slender redhead with a mere few words. "And don't ye get injured either, because unless somethin' drastic changes, I wouldn' piss on ye if ye were on fire."

At that, Nemesis doesn't explode into a whirlwind of rage. Instead… he gets a wry smirk. A few moments pass as they both quietly seethe at each other and he murmurs with that edged tone of his, "Ya sure about that? There are good websites that pay well for that sort of thing." That having been said he turns back to the computer displays and keys in a new log entry, already starting to fill it in with what clearly and obviously is an entry about _HER_ of all things. He even murmurs a few things subvocally into his throatmike that begin to populate the field in some form of code.

She glances up at the screen and demands, "What th' hell are ye doin' in my medical records anyway?" Terry demands, her brows pulling together.

"Reading them?" There's a sort of puzzled look to him as if he was explaining to her that the sky was blue, that grass was green, and that babies come from storks. He cocks an incredulous eyebrow at her and then clicks the screen closed, whatever log entry he was making completed. The man all in white then settles into a side seat, the rollers of the chair /whirrrring/ as he slides to another data station. He lifts a small glass or crystalline container and stares at it for a few moments, "What does one usually do with records where you're from?"

Theresa scowls. "You have nothin' t' be addin' t' my files, ye troublesome bugger. An' from here on out, ye haven' got me permission t' look at them. Ye know nothin' about me an' I'll thank ye t' keep yer nose away from me private business." And hell yes, she'll be finding a way to get into her records around here. And maybe his too. But it'll perhaps depend on whether the resident computer people she knows are available. "Who on earth let ye in here, anyway? What d'ye do that's so wonderful th' professor overlooks yer abysmal lack of people skills t' allow ye t' treat the teams?" Because clearly he does else he wouldn't be down here.

"I could explain it to you, but there are not words with syllables few enough." Though it's strange as Dr. Nemesis considers the data before him his expression darkens. There's something grim in his features as he frowns distantly at the results. He slides back on the chair with another /whirrrr/ as it halts in front of the computer. A few more displays flicker and open. It's curious how his mood shifts depending on the results he's getting from his research.
A moment passes, then he heaves a small sigh as he says, "Oh very well." That having been said he removes his glasses and rubs at his eyes, frowning at the faint bit of stubble along the side of his cheek as he catches it with his thumb. The chair spins around and he faces the angry young woman.
"I'll give you the layman's version."

One eyebrow quirks, and there is absolute silence from the redhead. She does not bother to acknowledge the slight to her intelligence. Theresa is done bandying words with him. He'll tell her or he won't.

"The name's Nemesis, I'm one hundred and five years old, I created sentient mechanical life before Reed Richards was in diapers. I live for two things, one of them is killing nazis." He waves a hand, then gestures absently, "The other is knowledge. I make things, create things, etcetera. I made one thing, I got wind that it might be used for no good by 'bad people'." He even makes air quotes after those two words, as if explaining it oh so gently to her.
"I did some research and some data came together to create a bad picture of 'bad things' happening. I came to Professor Xavier and scared the hair off of his head with it. He's given me the use of his facilities."
A sigh is heaved and then he stretches, groaning as he checks the watch on his wrist and frowning. "Curse this consarned meat prison of a body." He looks back up at her, "In any case. Bottom line for you, if good Doctor Nemi doesn't do his thing then all of mutantkind dies. Ok? Ok."

"Ye've a mighty inflated opinion of yourself," Terry observes, though admittedly the fact that he just cracked a joke about Xavier's hair is making her have to hide the grin that threatens the corners of her mouth. "What kind of 'bad things?'" she asks. "If yer as good as ye say, ye can multitask, thereby savin' yerself th' extra time."

"My dear lady, I am _always_ multi-tasking." That having been said he turns his back on her again, bringing his fingertips to light upon the keys of the keyboard that clatter rapidly in a blur of motion even as he chats with her. "I exist on a plane of multi-tasking. If there is a platonian ideal of the perfect multi-tasker then it is an image of myself. Naked, albeit, with a fig-leaf but that's them Greeks for you."
That having been said he chooses to elaborate over his shoulder. "Alright, 1994, picture a younger Dr. Nemesis. Still staggeringly handsome, still amazingly witty, and still way smarter than Bruce Banner." He gestures with one hand, though somehow doesn't seem to lose any speed of typing, "He comes up with a brilliant way to create a protein-based nanite system for autonomous innoculation of the world's population against the majority of disease. Thing is, one hurdle, it'll turn the Red Sea orange. Not a good PR move, but still."

Although she's a smart-ass, Theresa seems to be listening intently. And ignoring his self-aggrandizement. "So ye created a master-key for vaccinating against most forms of illness, and …. now someone's gone and weaponized it," she surmises quietly, all snarking aside.

"Oh if only that were the case, if only that was the only thing I had to worry about." The man in white leans over a display of some sort that flashes images up into his retina, a flickering of light gleaming between him and the computer console. "Flash forward a few years. A doctor gal decides 'Hey, I'm going to map the mutant genome in all its possible variations.' Whoops, doctor goes missing." He waves a hand to the side, "Combine this with various data vectors that coalesce and link this with that, hither and yonder, and it starts to form a cohesive whole of research being gathered for a particular purpose. Bammo, the scientist disappears, my research is tapped three days ago while I'm in the middle of killing some nazis, and all of a sudden Dr. Nemesis is no longer as happy as he once was."

"Mmmmm," Terry murmurs softly. "I can see why." There's a moment's pause and then she says, "Fer killin' Nazis, I'd at least piss on ye if ye were on fire." It's a true compromise for her, though. She smirks faintly. "Not that I expect ye t' appreciate th' offer, but if there's anythin' I can do t' assist w' th' problem of kidnapped doctors and stolen research, I'm intendin' on stickin' around a while." She pivots on her heel and heads toward the door. "I'm sure ye'll find me."

Even as she goes he's murmuring to himself, "Oh that's not the scariest bit girly girl. Aggressive genetic manipulation, mapping of mutant genome, global deployment system." His voice drops as he continues to talk to himself, even though he's alone. "Yeah, extinction level event, you know that and you go try get some sleep. But nooo, don't worry your purty little redhead about it. I'll take care of everything…"
And with that said he keeps on working.

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