[ the first sign that there is someone else in the lab is a single word. ]
Motherfucker!
[ the choice of language, one not approved or endorsed by the house of mouse, issues from one young woman seated at one of the long tables in the lab. at her elbow are several pages scribbled on front and back, even the margins doodled on. in front of her sits one of her web-shooters: a white cuff from which extends a flexible trigger that normally sits in her palm. neither pages or web-shooter are the recipients of her frustration. that particular honor goes to one of the cartridges tony had made for her.
she asked him how they worked. she forgot to ask how she was supposed to clean dried gunk out of the incredibly skinny things. ]
Why? [ continues the shakespearean tragedy unfolding at table 4. ] Why does this always happen to me?
Ah. [ Yes. Expletives. He isn't unused to those, especially since he'd started traveling with this lot. ] I do find that kicking things sometimes helps. Better for you than punching, punching just hurts the fingers.
[ The Doctor looks up from his own personal project, some doodad or doohickey with various bits and bobs and an assortment of odds and ends beside him. He's wearing goggles as he works, which makes him look a bit owlish when he looks over in Gwen's direction.
He's seen her around, of course, you spend enough time outside of your room (and for the Doctor, that's almost all the time) and it's hard not to notice the other fifty-some odd crew members here and there. But they've never really spoken. ]
[ for two people who look nothing alike, wild how much that owlish look reminds her of dr. mr. song. weird that. ]
No. [ hence the current reenactment of hamlet.
with a huff, gwen clarifies, ] I'm fine. Just—annoyed.
[ leaving the offending cartridge on the table, she rummages through a box tools for something small enough she can use to clean it out. wanting to help, several spiders slip into the box too in order to search. one drags a hairpin out from the depths. ]
[ Yes β at some point between the Doctor being over at his own work station, goggles obscuring his face, and now with those goggles pushed up and sweeping back his rather usually-impressive coif of hair, he's now hovering close enough to study the way a cluster of spiders seem to be following some kind of directive.
It's very ... organized. ]
Pocket spiders. [ He sounds delighted by this, chuckling softly. ] Spiders in space! Friends of yours?
Not that the Doctor is particularly aware of any of that, but the spiders do move just a little differently from ... the spiders he's encountered in his lifetime(s). ]
γ the spiders continue to behave like (very intelligent) spiders.
she shrugs at the doctor. γ
Apparently not.
γ venom-616 is capable of speech. other symbiotes likely are too. maybe gwen's simply hasn't developed the skill. or this is just how it is. regardless, gwen isn't fussed. host and symbiote do not lack for communication, and venom has never failed to make itself known when it needs to. γ
[ As a big fan of using one's voice to blabber on about quite literally anything one thinks about, he finds this a bit of a bummer.
But they're still fascinating to watch, and a part of him figures that they must be intelligent enough to communicate with Gwen as much as they want to.
γ tonyβs instructions are clear, and the materials are all available. unfortunately, her knowledge of chemistry was one high school class. peter was the one to take honors and ap-level courses; she futzed around with the band. γ
Tony Stark made the first batch for me. Iβve been trying to replicate it. γ with sometimes mixed results. γ
[ This is new. He pulls in, all lanky limbs of his settled in, as though his body has volunteered to help even before his voice confirms it.
He leans in to catch a glimpse of those instructions, and if Gwen relinquishes them over to him to give a scan, he'll try and decipher the words as best as he can.
He isn't much of a physician, despite the name, but he is something of a genius inventor, engineer, physicist, and chemist. Hobbies, really, of simple concepts, but the Doctor might just be of help to Gwen if she'd like. ]
γ the notes are detailed, the pages filled to the margins with instructions, stream-of-consciousness brainstorming and suggestions, even a doodled schematic for a new suit. of course, tony never found out that gwen has no need for an external suit. with a thought, venom can shift from the striped, collared dress she is wearing into spider-woman's mask and colors. gwen cherishes the thought, anyway.
she knew that tony only a short time, but he climbed to the "best tony stark" position without much competition. (616, you're on fucking notice.) γ
Can you explain the process? I want to be able to do it myself. γ not expressed with a mean intention, only a genuine desire to learn. γ
Well, it's all simple really. Just a bit of chemistry. Like baking! Or cooking, really, only this doesn't look like it'd be very tasty.
[ Probably more gluey and sticky, and possibly it might taste like ... ham. ]
Right. [ He inspects the list of contents, looks for the bits in between detailed notes that look like instructions, and tries his best to explain it in a way that isn't his usual Doctor flair.
He's trying, Gwen. He really is. ] We've got all these ingredients in the labs, I should think. Otherwise this Tony Stark might have expected you to find them elsewhere. The supply drops, perhaps? We can check.
We'll also need β yes. An actuator. I think we could get one up and running. That'll allow the ingredients to move about as they heat. I suspect it's so the fluid remains a fluid.
[ The Doctor grins, now actually a little fascinated by what might come of this recipe. Fully invested in seeing this through, he nods. ]
Brilliant.
[ And now he straightens, pivoting on a foot in a half-circle to look beyond their table and at the collection of items they've got on store. He gestures to the cabinets and shelves and then back at the list in-hand. ]
Right, so you'll find most of these things along those shelves there. I'll look for an actuator β or something actuator-y, or bits that I can make one out of. Oh! It'll be like baking a rather untasty cake. It'll be fun.
Other Doctor? [ He scrunches his nose. Because while maybe technically correct in some sense, it is also wholly wrong (!!).
He does give it some thought though, because he gives everything thought, and he's moving across the lab now to search for an actuator so he's just a little bit distracted. He wonders if Newt's used one at any point β perhaps he'll check. ] Suppose there are different ways I can answer that question. No, the Doctor's my name and you really wouldn't want me handling any sort of humany operation; I'm not human you see. But I can stitch up a wound if I must. Surface stuff.
And I am the Doctor, just the one, also the same as the Doctor with the cross eyebrows if that's who you mean. You see, we're the same person! Just a different face. Timey-wimey, and all that.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kicks the door down with starbuck's
Motherfucker!
[ the choice of language, one not approved or endorsed by the house of mouse, issues from one young woman seated at one of the long tables in the lab. at her elbow are several pages scribbled on front and back, even the margins doodled on. in front of her sits one of her web-shooters: a white cuff from which extends a flexible trigger that normally sits in her palm. neither pages or web-shooter are the recipients of her frustration. that particular honor goes to one of the cartridges tony had made for her.
she asked him how they worked. she forgot to ask how she was supposed to clean dried gunk out of the incredibly skinny things. ]
Why? [ continues the shakespearean tragedy unfolding at table 4. ] Why does this always happen to me?
hell yeah π
[ The Doctor looks up from his own personal project, some doodad or doohickey with various bits and bobs and an assortment of odds and ends beside him. He's wearing goggles as he works, which makes him look a bit owlish when he looks over in Gwen's direction.
He's seen her around, of course, you spend enough time outside of your room (and for the Doctor, that's almost all the time) and it's hard not to notice the other fifty-some odd crew members here and there. But they've never really spoken. ]
Is everything ... okay?
no subject
No. [ hence the current reenactment of hamlet.
with a huff, gwen clarifies, ] I'm fine. Just—annoyed.
[ leaving the offending cartridge on the table, she rummages through a box tools for something small enough she can use to clean it out. wanting to help, several spiders slip into the box too in order to search. one drags a hairpin out from the depths. ]
no subject
[ Yes β at some point between the Doctor being over at his own work station, goggles obscuring his face, and now with those goggles pushed up and sweeping back his rather usually-impressive coif of hair, he's now hovering close enough to study the way a cluster of spiders seem to be following some kind of directive.
It's very ... organized. ]
Pocket spiders. [ He sounds delighted by this, chuckling softly. ] Spiders in space! Friends of yours?
no subject
They keep me company.
[ because she's the biological host, hey-o. ]
no subject
Not that the Doctor is particularly aware of any of that, but the spiders do move just a little differently from ... the spiders he's encountered in his lifetime(s). ]
Don't suppose they talk too, do they?
no subject
γ the spiders continue to behave like (very intelligent) spiders.
she shrugs at the doctor. γ
Apparently not.
γ venom-616 is capable of speech. other symbiotes likely are too. maybe gwen's simply hasn't developed the skill. or this is just how it is. regardless, gwen isn't fussed. host and symbiote do not lack for communication, and venom has never failed to make itself known when it needs to. γ
no subject
But they're still fascinating to watch, and a part of him figures that they must be intelligent enough to communicate with Gwen as much as they want to.
He sets that thought aside. ]
So, what are you up to here then?
no subject
γ tonyβs instructions are clear, and the materials are all available. unfortunately, her knowledge of chemistry was one high school class. peter was the one to take honors and ap-level courses; she futzed around with the band. γ
Tony Stark made the first batch for me. Iβve been trying to replicate it. γ with sometimes mixed results. γ
no subject
[ This is new. He pulls in, all lanky limbs of his settled in, as though his body has volunteered to help even before his voice confirms it.
He leans in to catch a glimpse of those instructions, and if Gwen relinquishes them over to him to give a scan, he'll try and decipher the words as best as he can.
He isn't much of a physician, despite the name, but he is something of a genius inventor, engineer, physicist, and chemist. Hobbies, really, of simple concepts, but the Doctor might just be of help to Gwen if she'd like. ]
Ah. Yes, yes β I think I might be able to help.
no subject
she knew that tony only a short time, but he climbed to the "best tony stark" position without much competition. (616, you're on fucking notice.) γ
Can you explain the process? I want to be able to do it myself. γ not expressed with a mean intention, only a genuine desire to learn. γ
here's me talking out my ass
[ Probably more gluey and sticky, and possibly it might taste like ... ham. ]
Right. [ He inspects the list of contents, looks for the bits in between detailed notes that look like instructions, and tries his best to explain it in a way that isn't his usual Doctor flair.
He's trying, Gwen. He really is. ] We've got all these ingredients in the labs, I should think. Otherwise this Tony Stark might have expected you to find them elsewhere. The supply drops, perhaps? We can check.
We'll also need β yes. An actuator. I think we could get one up and running. That'll allow the ingredients to move about as they heat. I suspect it's so the fluid remains a fluid.
no subject
Full disclosure, I understood roughly half of that?
γ which averages higher than her usual understanding so, really, this is off to a great start. γ
But let's do it. I'll handle the shopping list.
no subject
Brilliant.
[ And now he straightens, pivoting on a foot in a half-circle to look beyond their table and at the collection of items they've got on store. He gestures to the cabinets and shelves and then back at the list in-hand. ]
Right, so you'll find most of these things along those shelves there. I'll look for an actuator β or something actuator-y, or bits that I can make one out of. Oh! It'll be like baking a rather untasty cake. It'll be fun.
no subject
wait— γ
Question. γ yes, she is raising her hand. γ You wouldn't happen to be the Other Doctor, would you?
no subject
He does give it some thought though, because he gives everything thought, and he's moving across the lab now to search for an actuator so he's just a little bit distracted. He wonders if Newt's used one at any point β perhaps he'll check. ] Suppose there are different ways I can answer that question. No, the Doctor's my name and you really wouldn't want me handling any sort of humany operation; I'm not human you see. But I can stitch up a wound if I must. Surface stuff.
And I am the Doctor, just the one, also the same as the Doctor with the cross eyebrows if that's who you mean. You see, we're the same person! Just a different face. Timey-wimey, and all that.
[ Are you getting all that, Gwen? ]
sticks a pretty finishing bow on this thread
γ and questioning absolutely none of that, off she goes to get all the ingredients to their possibly-tasting-of-ham not-ham. γ