2012 03 26 Shrinking The Spider

Log Title:
Shrinking the Spider

Characters:
Spider-Man & Doc Samson

IC Date:
03.26.12

Location:
Samson's Office

Brief log summary::
Spidey is referred to Samson to have a talk about his personal life.

Rating:
pg13

There is no TS in this log::
Yes

Post your log::
Samson's office is within the Baxter Building's bottom floor. There, among a series of other offices, Doc Samson has a suite of three offices, one outer and two inner. The outer office is occupied by his receptionist, June (a middle aged woman who is quite pleasent). She keeps his schedule and all his day in-day out details in alignment. Today, on the books is none other than Spider-Man whom is well received by June and shown into the inner office <see desc> of Doc Samson.

Samson is found wearing black slacks, a gray silk short sleeved shirt, and his green hair is pulled back into a pony. He stands as Spidey is shown in and will meet the Spider half way across the room, "Spider-Man, so good to see you again." he'll say as he offers a large welcoming glad hand.

June closes the door as she departs.

When Spider-Man enters he seems subdued somewhat, at least in this particular moment. Just another one of the curiously brightly costumed individuals who saunters through the good Doctor's door. Yet there's something abashed about the young vigilante's manner. His shoulders are a bit hunched and he grips an elbow with his other hand, rubbing there lightly as if off balance. Those wide mirrored-lenses seem to rove the room as he looks around only to settle on Doc when the introduction is made.

"Oh, hey there Doc." He straightens up a touch and accepts the man's large hand, giving a firm shake but letting the other take the lead. His mask shifts a bit as he offers what passes for a wry half-smile beneath it, "Thanks for seeing me and all, I know you probably hear this a lot but really I'm ok."

Samson smiles knowingly and nods, "Of course. Why would I think any differently?". His question is rhetorical as his hand breaks free and motions toward one of the available high backed leather chairs or the comfortable reclining couch where the feet are easily put up and the head shrinking can begin. "Please."

"So alright, like I don't know how much Mr. Richards told you and all," Spider-Man glances over his shoulder somewhat, as if making sure that Doc Samson's receptionist is for sure gone, then he looks back at the green-haired man. "Just he mentioned in that oh so subtle way of his that I was working too hard, and I told him, of course I wasn't, and then he made this big la-de-da thing about not taking enough time for family and friends and whatnot, and I was all, hey I do my thing. I get my groove on, and he was all giving me that look thing. So I was like, ok what, and he said to come here and…" As Spider-Man chatters he moves across the room to a seat opposite Doc Samson, then plants a hand on the back of the leather chair. He hops over it and lands in a crouch, perched on the edge of the chair with his elbows resting on his knees and looking terribly on edge. "So, voila."

Watching the movements of the Spider, Samson moves to a high backed leather chair opposite the couch and takes a seat. "So, what you're telling me is that Reed believes you're overworked and because of this you're stressed about something, or many things in particular?"

"I suppose," Spider-Man leaves that hanging there, still perched as he looks around the room. Those visors reflect the contents of it back as he considers his surroundings, something almost avian-like in the manner of his attention flicking from one spot to the next. He uncurls one bewebbed hand and gestures towards the Doc, "I mean I don't usually take these things like, you know, too seriously. Lots of people think I'm kinda all over the place. But when Reed Richards, Mr. Over-worked Scientist himself, tells you to slow down and pay attention to your family. Well… that's kinda like Doctor Doom telling you, 'Hey fella, you're being a bit mean there.'"

There's a brief pause of consideration to the metaphor. Then Samson replies after getting comfortable in the chair. His eyes looking at the anxiety in posture and ADHD of Spidey's random gaze. "He belives you're neglecting your family?"

"Well," Spider-Man scrunches up one eye, which comes across as one of the visors shifting a bit as he looks askance towards Doc Samson, "Yeah, kinda. I mean I don't know exactly how he came to that conclusion. I'm sure he talks to Sue and she knows about most stuff that goes down when I have a chance to talk to her. And ok, to be fair, yeah I've been working pretty hard. But I've been making time for my family. A bit. Like I saw one of them last week and have plans to do something else next week. I think it might be more the whole no social life thing."

"This family you speak of. What are we talking about? Wife, kids, mother/father, cousins or extended friends like girlfriend..?" Samson asks, trying to ascertain the connections that Spidey is lacking.

"Uhm," Spider-Man reaches back over his shoulder, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "Well, I have someone that raised me when I was young and whom I love dearly. She needs my help at times and I kind of look out for her as I can. But really, to be fair, that's it for family. I have a few friends, though I don't get to see them as often."

He pauses for a moment and looks the other way, then he looks back and there's a hint of a frown to the shift of his mask. "I see my friends who are in costume a lot more often, but that's usually, you know, in passing and quick."

"So a mother figure. The two of you are close?" he asks, going deeper into the social/relationship aspects of the discussion. Samson's right ankle is placed upon his left knee.

"Well, yes. I mean, kinda." Spider-Man shifts hands, still seeming uncomfortable. Perhaps not so much by the subject matter and moreso just the whole situation. "I try to keep her out of all the, you know, craziness of what goes on in my life. Safer for her. But if she needs help I try to be there, unless the world's exploding."

"Does she know your secret?", is asked regarding the whole secret ID / super heroic stuff.

The wall-crawler answers with just a small shake of his head. A curious thing to make him clam up abruptly.

"Does she believe you're in a good place in your life, happy, steady job, career or school? Rather, does she worry about you?"

A small heh comes from him, "You know how it is. I mean she's happy for me, she's proud of where I'm at in my job. Though she's a really good sort, she'd be happy if I was happy flipping burgers, you know. Our family was pretty non-judgemental about what you did for a living so long as it was honest."

"Of course, ok, she does kinda want little subset sprogs, but c'mon what mothertype doesn't? You know?"

"Then why the stress? What's the real concern?", asks Samson as he elaborates, "You see, most maternal figures desire for their 'children' to be happy. If they feel that the 'child' isn't happy then they worry or fret over the situation. In addition, if she's unaware of your super heroic life, then she worres even less and since your ID is quite secure, then you need not worry about her. Even if it was compromised, I believe that everyone from Ben Grimm to the Avengers would be babysitting her until it got all straightened out. Super-Heroes are protective of their own kind, especially of their favorite wall-crawler."

That causes Spider-Man's brow to raise as he looks to the side, and Doc can tell his words cause him to follow along this age-old well-trod thought path that he's been over so many times. Spidey shakes his head and looks back, a few moments passing before he replies. "I'm happy enough." He lets that answer hang there, then he goes on. "And, not to be a jerk, but sometimes having friends isn't enough. She'd be a target for the rest of her life, she'd never be able to go outside, her freedom would be gone completely." He takes a breath, sighing faintly, then he goes on. "And besides, if she knew about me being Spider-Man, well… it just might not go well is all."

"So you're worried about her finding out and her overall health and wellfare." Samson concludes and then adds, "So you avoid her at cost to your relationship, only showing up when absolutely needed or it's demanded. Am I near to the truth?"

"Well, not exactly. I mean we try to do fun things sometimes, and I'm there for the holidays. Mostly. But yah, with most my friends and family I do kinda have this reputation for being unreliable." Spider-Man gives a small shrug, letting it slide off him for now as he says, "I figure it's just one of those sacrifices you kinda have to make if you're going to be in the business. You know?"

His own reflective thoughts consider a moment of what he's given up to be in the business he's in and with that he nods. But it's not about him, it's about Spider-Man. So he states, "We don't have to give up our social life just because we hear the call for help. Everything in moderation, don't let your guilt of what you could have done dissuade you from what you can do."

"Ehn," Spider-Man frowns and shakes his head, perhaps Doc's finding it easier to read what passes for facial expressions behind that mask. "I've found it's best to just, you know… minimize those things as you can. I try to maintain some like, hint of a social life. I went and saw a movie with an old friend a… well ok a month and some ago."

Spider-Man straightens up in the chair and then eases down from his perch, lowering his legs over the edge and for once sitting like a normal human being. He rests his arms on the armrests of the chair. A glance askance, then back. "I've, um. Kind of decided that I should stay out of the dating game thing. For the most part. You know. It's never worked out well."

"How come?" Samson asks, probably already guessing the answer but wanting Spidey to vocalize it as these are the steps of getting the whole issue out in the open.

"Oh just… I mean would you tolerate it if your date was always late, or having to do other things, or only able to spend time with you like one hour out of every bazillion?" Spider-Man waves a hand to the side, "And that's if they know what I do for a living. Compound it if they don't and then you just come across as not just an ass, but a super-ass."

There's a weight to his words as he relates this, but he chooses them carefully despite the apparent informality, as if he were avoiding a train of thought of his own.

Remaining quiet, Samson only allows an affirmation in the form of a grunt of acceptance to the statement, giving Spidey plenty of space to continue down the path of revealation

"And if they don't know who I am, then how is that fair? The whole thing about a relationship is it's supposed to be like the ultimate team-up thing. You and your partner against the world." Spider-Man shakes his head again, taking a breath and holding it for an instant, before continuing. "And then, I mean…"

A small sigh escapes him, faint. "It's dangerous to be around someone who does this craziness for a living. It's not fair to them. Too risky. So I decided just, you know, best not to."

"Perhaps it's for the best." Samson takes the side that Spidey is arguing. This will hopefully cause Spidey to take the opposite side or at least motivating him to think more clearly about the big picture.

The gambit, unfortunately, doesn't pay off. "Yah I agree." Something huge must have happened for him to be so firm about it, to be so strong of will. He looks across the way at Doc Samson making as much eye-contact as possible with those mirrored lenses of his mask. "With great power…" He lets those words hang there for a time, his brow knitting together in thought.

Samson smiles. Seeing that Spidey didn't take the bait and also realizing that the wall crawler needs some direction in his life. "I have homework for you, Spider-Man." then dropping his ankle from his knee, the monolith of a man rises and moves behind his desk. While pulling open a drawer, he states, "You'll take this sheet home with you. There are questions on it regarding your priorities. You'll take the time over the week and give some good thought to the questions, answer them and bring the sheet back with you next week for our second appointment."

"Heh, homework, ironic." Spidey rolls forwards off the chair, gaining his feet smoothly and stepping towards the taller man. He extends a hand towards him to accept the piece of paper and takes a few moments to peruse it when he holds it. "So what's the verdict, Doc?" He looks up at the good Doctor. "Am I bonkers or what?"

"We're all 'bonkers' Spidey. It's just a matter of how far we've entered the land of bonkers. Homework, then we'll talk again a few more times to sort out what's going on. Then we assess. Sound good?"

"Alright, thanks Doc." That having been said he takes the taller man's hand again and gives a firm shake. He takes a step to the side and folds the piece of paper up, sliding it behind his belt as he gestures with a thumb towards the window. "You mind if I uhm…" He waits a beat, then adds. "I prefer them to doors." He might catch the small tell-tale smirk's silhouette behind the mask, maybe he's just goofing. Then again maybe not.

With an affirming nod, "Enjoy." Samson gives permission to use the window while he himself goes back to take a seat at his desk and get caught up on paperwork.

The window creaks open, there's a wave over his shoulder, and then Spidey's sing-song voice calls back. "Seeya round, Doc!" And there's that /THWIP!/. Moments later the wall-crawler is gone.

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