Log:Test Your Metal, Scene 1

Test Your Metal 2015/08/29 Grimm Malcolm 1

Science Building -- CBSU

When walking into this building the familiar scents of chemical compounds can be smelled immediately as they waif through the hallway. The hallway has a number of doors leading off into various labs and lecture rooms as well as faculty offices. The floors here are made of synthetic rubber tiles for easy maintenance, while the walls are painted with a glossy white coating. Florescent lighting illuminates the hallway and most of the rooms. The doors leading into each room are metal with a small mesh reinforced window set within most of them.

Welcome to Colonial Bay State University's experimental physics department. As Grimm is likely well-aware, CBSU's science faculty are world leaders in astrophysics, xenobiology, xenosociology, and particle physics. She may not be aware of it, but many of the techniques used to develop Breach's particle revolver and "Street Sweeper" grenade were actually pioneered here at CBSU by enterprising future scientists in the employ of Darkwell & Associates.

It's also possible that Grimm did not realize that some of her internship paperwork got passed along to the faculty offices in the Science Building. Her return to campus for the coming semester is serenaded by the chorus of NEW EMAIL notifications in her school email account and the swarm of paper notifications at the mail room. Now all she has to do is find the office of one Doctor Margaret Nialese Essiam, hidden deep in the bowels of the experimental physics section. Every other doorway looks in on a mind bending array of complex electronics and delicate machinery that, in spite of brightly colored signs and decals, do not appear to serve any sort of function Grimm could easily deduce.

Making matters worse, of course, is the fact that Grimm is running late for a mid-afternoon date with Malcolm. Finding Dr. Essiam's office or lab in this whitewashed labyrinth and providing her with a yes or no answer on the work-study internship for this year would be fantastic, but finding it in the very near future would be even better. Right?

Tragedy! Grimm didn't want to miss a date with her sweetheart. Just as she thought she sorted through all the paperwork and emails for school, she has this one last emergency thing to attend to. She's sent profuse apologies via text saying she'll be a bit late for their date because of college stuff. Many hearts and kissy emojis were sent in that exchange as she navigates the labyrinth.

After another corridor and more searching, Gabrielle sends another text to Malcolm. <>

She's not sure how she got invited to the physics and science part of the school, since she's never been here before. Hence her getting lost. Eventually, she tries to get a feel for the area with her shadow sight to help navigate, but she's still not sure what she's looking at. Or what the Good Doctor looks like. So finding her seems to rely on some good old fashioned legwork.

There's something... Off.

Grimm can't tell exactly what's wrong down here - it could be all of high tech machinery or her unfamiliarity with the Science Building or something else entirely - but her various and sundry shadowy perception powers keep doing strange things. She's pretty sure she just felt her own butt whilst trying to sense things through the shadows on the other side of that door, for instance.

Given the current staffing levels, finding a living person is difficult at this time of day. It's still, technically, summer break after all. Applying herself to the search, however, Grimm eventually finds herself a real live human being who provides arcane directions that Grimm distinctly senses should not be physically possible after she passes through a corridor she already visited. Even so, Grimm finds herself outside of a door somewhere deep, deep inside of the Science Building that is labelled as the office of Dr. Margaret N. Essiam.

Maybe all those scientific force field tests are warping her own perceptive powers, bending them along with the reality around them. Hmm, something firm but a little squishy and soft...wait. Is that...

...Grimm immediately turns her senses from her bum to anywhere. Else. And her cheeks are bright red. More curved, soft surfaces--ACK! Okay, she's drawing back her senses now rather than risk feeling up more of herself.

There's some hope when she finds a person! But that hope soon dwindles as the directions get her mentally lost. She continues wandering as her deadline for the search party starts to loom. For a while, the camera just sticks to a shot of Grimm from the waist, up, looking like she's just standing there in a daze as the hallway moves as if she were gliding along without actually walking.

And then...salvation.

The camera switches to a shot from behind her as she glides to a stop before a door with the nameplate saying 'Dr. Margaret N. Essiam.' "Oh, thank god," she sighs with a relief before knocking on the door.

There is a sweatdrop-inducingly long pause following that knock on the door. Rather abruptly, however, a woman's voice echoes from past the wood and metal door, "Enter please," in a crisply accented voice. Grimm's first impression is 'British upper crust', but that doesn't quite seem right. It's a little too German to be quite so stiff-upper-lip-eh-wot as Grimm first imagined.

Opening the door reveals a rather more expansive - and expensive-looking - office than one would expect to find in the literal bowels of a science building. Bright, cherry wood paneling covers the walls from baseboards to about hip-height, where it transitions to a very Victorian wallpaper, just as brightly colored as the paneling, but appointed with a sharply lined floral pattern that feels vaguely hypnotic. Plush blue carpeting covers the floor, stretching on for about 20m to a back wall with a decorative window.

Loose, airy white curtains cover the window, diffusing what must be a set of expertly installed and extremely high power LED bulbs that generate what almost seems like sunlight. Overhead, the ceiling appears to have been made by a master plasterer with ornate mouldings everywhere. Brass sconces and faux-chandeliers are spread about the room, topped by olde tymey lantern glass with some kind of weird bulb that makes it seem like they're all gas-fired lamps instead of the modern electric they must be.

Dr. Essiam sits behind what appears to be an admiral's desk carved from a single block of mahogany. She could be twenty or she could be 45, it's borderline impossible to discern her age. What is immediately apparent is that she has a fascination with steampunk. If she didn't have brilliantly German blonde hair, Dr. Essiam could almost pass for Jane from Disney's Tarzan. Her dress is necessarily more complex than Jane's of course, fitted with an assortment of lace and clockwork baubles of various sorts. A white leather - who wears white leather?! - lab coat is hanging from a coat rack in one corner of the room, along with no less than three different kinds of umbrella, an inconceivably lightweight blue peacoat, and a lace-and-linen shawl that may have some sort of stained glass inset into the various open nodes between stitches.

Grimm stares at the large, victorian era office, trying to sort the dissonance of the decor versus the rest of the building. She's got to be int he wrong place, right? Because this place is...pretty amazing in an old-fashioned way. It's eccentric to say the least. The benefits of tenure maybe?

Grimm admires the steampunch fashion sense as she steps into the room hesitantly. "Um, yes, Dr. Essiam. My name's Gabrielle Grimm," she introduces herself. Her eyes go back to the decor before settling on the Doctor's fashion sense again.

"Ah yes, Miss Grimm," intones Dr. Essiam in that crisp accent of hers. What /IS/ that accent? It's maddeningly difficult to place, like an itch at the back of the brain. She removes the librarian glasses resting on the tip of her nose and sets them atop a stack of papers. "I've been expecting you. Would you care for some tea or coffee?"

Dr. Essiam stands up from her high-backed chair - it's upholstered with something that feels, to Grimm's tenebrous touch, like overlapping velvet - that matches the wallpaper. She straightens out an imaginary series of ruffles in her dress before circling around the enormous desk to offer a white-gloved hand to Gabrielle in greeting. Offering a dazzlingly white smile, Dr. Essiam intones, "It's a lovely pleasure to meet you at last, Miss Grimm. I'm so glad to get some interdisciplinary students into my end of the internship program. Too many scientists in here and it feels rather more like a science-fikt-shon convention than a proper la-bor-a-tory."

Up close, Grimm gets the impression that all of that clockwork embellishment on the doctor's dress may actually do something. She may also get a feeling of deja-vu, like she's feeling something she's already felt. Flickers of sensation dance through her head - like she were using her Shadow Sight - before they fade away into the ethereal echoes of qliphothic space. Weird.

"Coffee, please." She's definitely a coffee person. You would think the coffee-flavored Taste Bud Tarantella she did with Porter would put her off coffee for life, but she's acquired the taste again. The only tea she drinks is milk tea with boba.

Gabrielle crosses the room and extends her hand to shake Dr. Essiam's gloved one. All the sensory input from the textures in the room are tickling her senses. But at least she doesn't seem to be feeling her own rear anymore. Or anyone else's. This also begs the question, how often does she feel up Malcolm's rear whenever they're together? The answer is an emphatic "I plead the 5th".

"At last...? I was wondering why I got invited to the science building. I'm not exactly sure how I would fit in." Just like Dr. Essiam's accent. Grimm can't figure out where it fits in, either.

And then...deja vu...? What is that strange familiarity? She can't exactly place it. What was that?

The Good(?) Doctor's glove feels like silk. Her grip is strong and practiced, though feminine in that hard to articulate way one expects of Occidental cultural traits. She bobs her head, gesturing for Grimm to take a seat by the desk whilst Dr. Essiam makes her way to a discreet station off to one side of the room, revealing a colossal brass and copper industrial coffeemaker.

"Your internship papers were circulated through the faculty offices, of course. Your resume was quite excellent," replies Dr. Essiam as she fiddles with knobs and levers. There is a growing sense of infrasonic disruption radiating from the coffeemaker - Grimm can probably /FEEL/ the ultra-low-frequency sound more than she hears it - as some sort of chaotic inner mechanism comes to life. "As I said, Miss Grimm, I much prefer interdisciplinary students. They are so much more," Essiam trails off as a steam whistle briefly sounds a startlingly bass tone, "Agreeable to carrying out the work I need done around my la-bor-a-tory."

On the plus side, it smells like /REALLY/ /GOOD/ coffee. Straight outta Seattle coffee.

Grimm tingles at the buzzing vibrations within the coffee maker. She walks over to the chair and takes a seat, setting her hands on her knees and sitting up straight and as professional as she can, even though she isn't quite dressed for interviews.

"Really? I'm surprised why interdisciplinary would matter. What exactly is your area of expertise? And what sort of work is needed in your...laboratory?"

She subtly inhales the sobering smell of seattle-worthy coffee. This may be a cozy internship if the reigning professor can afford their own fancy personal coffee maker.

"I specialize in high energy physics," replies Dr. Essiam. The reply immediately rings the alarm bells in Grimm's head. Why Dr. Essiam would be lying to Grimm about her field of expertise is mysterious.

"But my current research is a little more focused on the interactions of focused energy streams and heavy metals and semi-organic metal alloys," continues Dr. Essiam, blithely unaware that Grimm is aware of her attempts at deception. There is a loud, high-pitched steam whistle that is followed by a sound not unlike a very old school espresso machine unleashing hyper-caffeinated joy upon the world. It probably helps that this latest statement is as truthful as can be.

Turning around, Dr. Essiam carries a silver serving platter back to her desk. She sets it down in the middle and delicately collects a white china cup filled with steamy black coffee, leaving its mate for Grimm to collect. Whatever blend of coffee this is, it smells simply divine.

Naturally there is a serving dish of sugar, a small china container of cream, and a small china container of milk on the serving platter as well. Inexplicably, there is also a small ceramic container of honey and a serving dish filled with some sort of powdery pink stuff that smells vaguely like concentrated cotton candy. How one concentrates cotton candy into something more saccharine is a mystery best left for after all of the other ones rattling around Grimm's head.

That's funny. Heavy metals and semi-organic metal alloys makes her think of how she's still running late for her date with Malcolm. Gabrielle can't help but quirk a brow at the odd deception. Maybe she thinks Gabrielle can't understandt he technical aspects of her field.

Grimm collects the cup's mate, and starts to customize it with two sugars and a dash of cream and honey. Her hand hovers over the powdery pink stuff uncertainty before withdrawing to stir her coffee. She's left to puzzle over the pink stuff.

"Really? That's pretty interesting. I know a metahuman with semi-organic metal," Gabrielle makes small talk as she inhales the heavenly scent of a hug in a cup. She sips her coffee, relishing the taste.

"Oh yes?" inquires Dr. Essiam at the oblique reference to Malcolm. She purses her lips just so, coffee cup hanging daintily in front of her mouth as she watches Grimm. Dr. Essiam may, in fact, be trying to will Grimm to tell her more about this metahuman she knows. You know, as much as someone without DIABOLICAL MIND POWERS can will anyone to do anything.

The coffee tastes remarkable. It's like the strangest, most delicious hybrid of Colombian and South African coffees mixed with some kind of tropical honey. Well, okay, those honeyed notes may be from the honey Grimm mixed into the coffee. Overall, it's a superior blend.

The hanging pause that begs Grimm to say more does not go unnoticed. She lowers her cup a little, embarrassed just a tad by the idea of talking more about her boyfriend. And also wanted to know where the Doctor gets her coffee. "Er. Yeah, he's a hero. One of the city's best. He works for Starguard Gamma, so you've probably heard of Forge, right?"

She takes the opportunity to take another tiny sip of her coffee, wanting to make the delicious elixir last.

"Yes. Of course I've heard of Forj," replies Dr. Essiam. Her pursed lips quirk into a small, dark smile for a split-second. Grimm hardly gets a chance to see the smile, much less analyze its potential implications before Dr. Essiam's mouth is concealed by her coffee cup.

"He's really quite the interesting figure, don't you think?"

Dr. Essiam sets her coffee cup down on a saucer that may not have been present a second earlier. She momentarily steeples her fingers over the cup before those fingers neatly fold themselves into an intricate lacework. Her green eyes seem vaguely familiar - looking at them too hard or for too long reminds Grimm of Malcolm in an odd way - as she studies Grimm from across the desk.

"But you asked about my interest in interdisciplinary interns, didn't you? It has always been my philosophy that the greatest advances are made by teams of people with greatly divergent points of view. Science demands a particular view upon the world, but it is always valuable to involve the leity involved in the process of progress. What good is advancement if we do not gather the insight and the fear of those we, as scientists, most seek to elevate beyond their current station in the grand design?"

Grimm's inner Evil-O-Meter spikes upward a little bit during that speech. It hovers somewhere in the realm of novice cultist before backing off as Dr. Essiam's flames of scientific passion return to baseline levels.

As a note: Looking into Dr. Essiam's eyes for too long or too hard reminds Grimm of Malcolm's eyes. Very specifically his eyes. It's not so much any emotional or psychological component related to his eyes; there's just something about her eyes that reminds Grimm specifically of Malcolm's eyes.

Grimm suddenly wonders if Malcolm had a chance to respond to her texts, but it is impossible to know. Sometime shortly after she sent them, she lost her phone/PDA signal.

She may be getting the ROAMING signal icon. But there does not appear to be a recognized signal.

That accent. What is it? Maybe...german-born, who learned english in the UK? Dutch? Maybe belgian? Grimm's not quite sure what sort of name Essiam is. But if she's married, it may mean nothing about her origins.

"Yeah, he's...amazing," she says with a smitten smile. Without elaborating that she's dating the metallic hero, it comes off more as someone who's a fangirl or starstruck. "But what do find most interesting about him?"

She listens to the Doctor's speel, making polite eye contact that becomes a bit more studious as she notices something strangely familiar. The eyes may be green instead of grey, but they really give her the impression of Malcolm's eyes.

And then...that ping of evil accompanying the Doctor's fanatical almost-rant. That can't be good. What's going on here? She's gradually growing alarmed at the strangeness. The decor, the strange warping of her senses, the roaming signal she noticed on her phone earlier, and now the ping of evil? She tries to keep that alarm locked down. While she feels like there could be danger at hand, she's as much curious as to the why of it all.

"So...different perspectives to help with a problem? I think I get it." Gabrielle starts to ponder what grand design this Dr. Essiam has in mind.

"Oh," intones Dr. Essiam. She says it like she just realized something. Tipping her head to one side, the Good (??) Doctor settles her emerald gaze on Grimm as though she were considering the other, younger (?) woman as though trying to decide whether or not Grimm were a poisonous snake.

"I suppose the most interesting thing about him is how far he's come, knowing so little about himself."

If Dr. Essiam has noticed the increasing sense of alarm within Grimm, she is doing an excellent job of hiding that knowledge. The Good (???) Doctor collects her coffee cup again, her gesture and grasp ever so dainty and refined, so that she can take a long and appreciative sip of the still steaming brew. Quite an amazing feat, keeping this coffee steamy for so long. Could the secret be in that mysterious super coffee machine?

"So, Miss Grimm, can I count on your support in peeling back the masque of the universe and staring into the eyes of God?"

Pausing, Dr. Essiam sets her cup down on the saucer again. She offers a laugh that is equal parts nervous and self-deprecating before she comments, "I suppose that rather kamm out more ridiculous than I intended."

"Knowing so little about himself? What do you mean? You say that like you know more about him than he does." Gabrielle doesn't quite know of Malcolm's strange origins. And now she realizes she's never really asked the specifics of how he got his powers. Although, she always did find that magical banded aura around him quite beautiful to look at.

With a slight grin, Gabrielle says, "Well, it was a bit of an artistic way to talk about science, but if you're offering me the internship, then yes?" Because something about this requires investigating further!

"I mean that he's so publically declared, time and again, how little he really knows of the origins of his powers," replies Dr. Essiam, "What else could I mean?"

The way Dr. Essiam responds, however well worded, probably sets Grimm's teeth on edge. It's not quite a lie, but it's really not quite the truth either. Secrecy seems to be the watchword when dealing with Dr. Essiam, Grimm may have to keep that in mind.

As Grimm thinks back to those bands of elemental magic surrounding Malcolm, she finds it unusually easy to very clearly visualize them. It's weird, but she feels like she might have walked a similar path in trying to find Dr. Essiam's office.

"Why yes, I am offering you the internship. For now it'll be a few days a week, mostly in the early evenings, to help the other interns set up the experi-mental appa-rat-us, write progress reports, and that sort of thing. Nothing terribly taxing; a perfect learning experience for you, I'm sure."

Grimm almost grinds her teeth at Dr. Essiam's Untruthiness. All she knows is given Dr. Essiam's specialty, and her lies about her knowledge of Malcolm, has her concerned. And feeling a bit protective of Malcolm.

After finishing a sip of the last of the amazing coffee, she sets down the fine china cup. "Great, that works with my school schedule," she grins. It's not the predatory grin of her mentor, the other half of Grimm Justice, but she's sorely tempted.

And if there's something utterly untoward about the Good (??) Doctor, Grimm is totally stealing/confiscating that coffee maker for herself. "When do I start?" You have voted for Malcolm.

"I'll send along the shed-yule promptly, Miss Grimm."

Dr. Essiam smiles politely at Grimm as she stands up again, moving around the desk to escort Gabrielle back to the door between the office and the hallway. Somewhere along the way, Dr. Essiam collects a pocket watch from one of the more steampunk embellishments on her dress and winds the key before opening it. Clucking her tongue, Dr. Essiam blandly comments, "I really need to see a clock-mun about that loose spring."

Opening the door, Dr. Essiam ushes Grimm back out into the hall. At the click of the door closing, Grimm finds herself in a familiar hallway that is almost certainly not the one she entered that office from earlier. She also finds a printed schedule of internship dates from this coming Monday clear to Columbus Day, no more than three during a week - more commonly, there are two days during the week Grimm is needed - usually between 6 pm and 9 pm.

And then - only then - Grimm's phone/PDA starts going off with text alerts from Malcolm.

Grimm feels like she just came out of a timewarp as she finds herself...somewhere she didn't enter. So then how will she find this again? How surreally bizarre. And really intriguing! If only she had a Scooby Gang to help her investigate it.

She almost starts as her phone starts beeping with repeat messages as it catches up with all the missed messages. She fishes out her phone, takes a picture of the schedule, then starts to thumb through her messages. That's right! She's late for a very important date!

She begins to walk down the hallway briskly, reading up her messages as she goes. She takes one last look back at the offices of Dr. Essiam before looking back at her phone screen. She thumb-types back a message. <> She hits send and frowns slightly to herself. She'll have to ask Mal about his origins. Maybe that will help her figure out what Dr. Essiam was talking about.

<>

<>

<>

Grimm may notice that it's barely 5 minutes since her last text got sent. This does not agree with the amount of walking she did nor with the amount of talking that was accomplished in Dr. Essiam's office. Looking back at where she came from, Grimm has to wonder if she forgot that she turned a corner. Dr. Essiam's office is not immediately visible from her vantage point in the hall, but maybe it's just around the bend there?

This is a weird day. Fortunately, Burning Man is coming up very quickly.

This definitely gets filed in one of Grimm's weirder days. And she's had a LOT of weird days. Weird is practically the Black Baroness' middle name. She's very confused about the time inconsistencies. That office. The similarity to Malcolm's aura. Those eyes. And that strange accent. Her mind is buzzing to try and connect that feeling of deja vu to it all. And what was with her watch? It was so retro!

<> She texts back with a hopeful smile, elated to be seeing him soon. It'll be the last time she'll get to see him for a bit while she's away at the Burn. That is, unless she can someone convince him to come with her. Now that would be a strange adventure.

<>

Malcolm is as good as his word, pulling into the lot by the student square approximately 8 minutes after his text. He's dressed in his nice jeans and boots, with a dressy leather jacket over top of whatever shirt he's wearing, and seated on his hovercycle. Cheerily, Malcolm waves at Grimm just as soon as she enters his visual range and inquires, "Dinner first or a joyride first, Gabrielle?"

Grimm grins and runs over to Malcolm the old fashioned way instead of shadow-stepping closer. She gives him a kiss on the cheek, then hops on the back of his bike, wrapping her arms around his waist. "Joyride first. Totally. Second star to the right, and straight on til morning?" she asks as she leans against him snugly. There's a protectiveness to the hug, at least in her mind. She's got his back. Just in case.