2013.09.24 - New Digs for Sinister

It was morning, and Jocelyn was in her office at the hospital. It wasn't formally open yet, but they were just finishing the last few details. Equipment being delivered and things like that. The construction crews in Bastion were impressive, to the say the least. The director of the hospital was going over some of the morning's paperwork currently. This certainly wasn't what the woman had planned on doing when she came to Genosha, but life had a funny way of tossing you a few unexpected twists along the way. She had been up for a few hours now, and was dressed in a professional's suit. Having to dress professionally was also something Jocelyn had grown used to during her time here, and she seemed comfortable in her current role.

The energy absorber was slowly becoming used to the sheer amount of energy flying around freely in Bastion. The magnetic energy fields were one thing, and she found them if at most a minor inconvienence. The untrained and trained telepaths were also always reaching out, and her natural bubble kept them from being particularly intrusive, and those that had reasonable strength, well, when the energy hit her, she just absorbed it and moved on with whatever she'd been doing.

Her office was still fairly plain. It had a couple bookshelves and a window with a decent view, along with a nice desk with a computer, but other than that, there wasn't much up yet. Jocelyn simply hadn't had time to get around to decorating it and giving it those personal touches one tended to find in offices.

"I do hope I'm not interrupting anything."

The voice is smooth and cold, colored by an archaic british accent. It's a distinct voice, one belonging to Bastion's resident expert on all things genetic -- the man responsible for all research pertaining to the field -- Dr. Milton. Without warning, he's simply... There. As if rising up out of the floor boards themselves. His face is pale, but nothing overtly white, and his features bare a distinct similarity to Mister Sinister -- not that anyone besides Magneto even knows what he looks like. In his hand is a cane, black to match his outdated suit, an affair that looks like it came straight from 19th century england. Because of course, it did. The cane is topped with a bright red jewel, and upon it, Milton's hand rests as he moves further into the room. "I wanted to come by to see how the facilities were progressing. Well, I hope?" He glances about the room, eyeing it with barely concealed distaste, before his eyes fall back on Jocelyn. "What a charming little office you have..."

Jocelyn's energy senses normally let her know when someone was teleporting into her office. She'd lived in the same building as Nightcrawler for long enough, after all, to be used to the concept. Teleporters usually gave her a split-second's warning in terms of energy, but Sinister was different, as he just kind of appeared there. The woman stands politely and offers her hand to the man.

"Good morning," Jocelyn says. "They are progressing well, thank you". Jocelyn lets the comment about the office slide with an easy "Thank you". If she was ruffled or off-put by the man just appearing in her office, she wasn't showing it, and was instead simply accepting it. "Please, have a seat," Jocelyn says, gesturing to one of the chairs that sat across from her desk. "What may I help you with?" the woman asks. "And can I get you anything?" she adds politely.

Milton smiles over the desk to Jocelyn as he lowers himself into a chair with practiced flair. His hand rests on the upright cane just off to the side while the other adjusts his suit, "Wine, if you have it." After a momentary pause, his hand finishes fixing his suit and instead rests on the arm of the chair, his eyes locked on Jocelyn. Silence reigns on his end for another handful of seconds, then; "I want your patients." His smiles ticks upwards slightly, "Not all of them, of course, but my research is far too important to let it rest on the willing. Once this hospital opens, you will have all manner of prime subjects wandering in and out those doors, so here's what I propose. I'm a trained surgeon, probably better than anyone on this island, and I'm one of the best diagnosticians on the planet. Trust me when I say this -- there are many diseases you still struggle to comprehend that I have successfully cured. Even death is but a set back to me." He adjusts his position slightly while continuing, "Occasionally, a patient will come in here who will be perfect for my research. You will turn them over to me, I will cure them of whatever ailment they are afflicted by and in the process, run my own tests. Everyone wins."

Early morning wine. Jocelyn had done some underage drinking in the past, and frankly wine wasn't stronger than any of the stuff Thor served her. "I have a bottle, yes. Usually for those late nights, of course". The tall woman opens up a cabinet and pulls out a bottle of fairly good wine (not the best, but no slouch of a wine either) and a couple glasses. She pours a couple glasses and slides one over to her visitor. She was used to mutants having particular tastes for these sorts of meetings.

"Perhaps. I will need some details as to what this research is and why it is important. You are asking quite a lot, from a medical standpoint," Jocelyn says. "I would need to know something of the nature of these tests. It falls to me to make sure that my patients are safe while under my care at the hospital," Jocelyn responds. "I see no problem with collecting data with relatively routine tests, of course, but I imagine these are not routine tests you plan to run, Doctor...?" She leaves the question open, to allow the man to properly introduce himself, as she waits for an answer.

"Doctor Milton," he replies, taking up the glass of wine to take a sip. "Unfortunately, unless you're the Imperator, I can't share the exact details of the experiment, however it concerns the genetics behind mutations. Of course, no lasting harm will be done. The worst they will experience is a slight pinch as I draw blood. The will not be put through anything non-routine personally, but you are correct in assuming that my experimentation on the DNA and blood samples I collect will be less than common practice." He swirls his glass, and holds it up slightly towards Jocelyn, "This is very good."

After another small sip he continues, "The Imperator himself has of course, approved all this. In fact, I believe you've been instructed to add several laboratories to the third floor specifically for my use. There's no need to equip them, I simply need the space set aside and I shall..." He smiles a bit, "Shall we say -- decorate them to my own tastes."

"A pleasure to meet you then, Doctor Milton," Jocelyn responds as she retakes her seat. She is quiet while Doctor Milton speaks, letting him explain things. Or not explain them, as it may be. State-sponsored research usually meant top secret stuff. Of course, it would pass through her hospital, which made a certain amount of sense. She swirls her own glass and gives the man an easy smile. "Thank you. As I said, I try to keep a bottle on hand". The woman takes a sip of her wine while she considers Doctor Milton's request, such as it is.

"The third floor is actually ready. I received word that completion of the wiring of those labs has been finished. You can actually begin moving things in today if you like, though I suspect we won't have any patients coming in for a few days yet when we officially open. We do have a smaller clinic that is handling cases until the hospital is properly open, however," Jocelyn explains.

"I do have the note for your assignment here, Doctor Milton. Will we be able to call on you for cases not related to your research? I know that your research must take priority, of course. But it is my hope that will be able to work in some rotations as time permits as well," Jocelyn offers.

The blood drawing process doesn't seem to phase Jocelyn. That was common enough as it was. "And once their blood has been taken and they have been cured, they will no longer be required to remain at the hospital. That is my understanding. Is that correct?" Jocelyn questions.

"It certainly is," Milton answers, slowly rotating the cane in his other hand, "All I need is a DNA sample and my research can continue without them." Cloning tends to free up options like that. When he hears that the third floor is ready, he flashes a broad grin. "Excellent," he declares with some enthusiasm. His eyes slip out of focus for a minute, then he leans forward to set the glass of wine on Jocelyn's desk, freeing up his hand. She'll suddenly feel the telltale signs of teleportation, and then, in his hand appears a black pod. It's a strange object, for it clearly appears to be made of organic, living material, but it's shape is like that of a synthetic object. Milton holds it up for her to see for just a moment, before he tucks it into an inner pocket of his suit. "Something of my own invention." With a wink, he plucks his glass from her desk again and leans back, taking a sip.

"If I'm available, you may call on me anytime. I do not require much sleep, but my work tends to keep me on the move. If it's an emergency, you can contact the Spire. Ask for Arclight. She'll make sure I get the message and arrive as soon as possible." Cloning for the win, once again.

The woman remains politely quiet as Milton teleports in some sort of living object. Something of his own invention indeed. Jocelyn nods to that. "Interesting. Classified information, or may I inquire what it is?" Jocelyn asks. She takes a sip of the wine. "I must say it looks to be a rather curious object," the woman says. Synthetic lifeform, from what she can tell with her own sight. Not that she was saying as much vocally.

"It seems that you could certainly arrive quickly enough," the woman agrees, taking note of the name she should ask for. "Sleep is both a luxury and a curse, in my experience. If I did not require it, I am pretty sure that I would choose to go without it most of the time," she offers with a laugh. It would be nice indeed, for someone as busy as her.

"I know that you said you do not need any specific equipment, but if there is anything you need, please let me know and I'll see to acquiring it for you," she offers.

Milton smiles, clearly pleased that Jocelyn is curious about the pod he had delivered from... wherever. "Classified? Oh no, definately not. Though, I don't think I'll be sharing the process by which it's made with anyone. Have to keep some things for myself. You see, my work has given me an extraordinary amount of familiarity with all things organic. I devised a way to... well... to essentially /create/ life. I simply place it wherever I want, give it a few telepathic commands, and it expands, turning the entire area into a large bio-lab. Since it's alive, it far more advanced than any electronic security system, and I no longer need lab assistants as the lab itself fills the role." Milton grins, finishing off his wine with a prideful sort of flourish. "Tose are but a sample of the many uses it fulfills. Truly, my work would be set back many years without it."

To the rest, he simply chuckles or bobs his head politely, "I would greatly appreciate it, and of course, if you ever need my services, simply ask. My talents and knowledge are quite extensive and I would be remiss in not offering them to you." Slowly, he stands, using the cane a bit, though it's clearly not really needed. "Now then, I think I should get down to the lab and get it prepared. Good day." With another flourish, he bows to her before turning on his heel and making for the door.