Four generations ago, two academies were built across the road from one another. One would go on to house the finest Superheroes the world would ever know. The other to raise infamous Supervillains that would terrorize humankind. A rivalry has always existed between the two, on which side do you stand?
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After leaving the room that Ms. Blair - or, as she'd said he could call her, Ms. Slut. He didn't actually want to think that word because it made him feel ill. That encounter and brief conversation had him feeling very disgusting all over, being so close to and speaking to someone who had a revolting lifestyle filled with horrible unsanitary acts of debauchery. How anyone could put themselves into those situations and do those things Freddy couldn't understand and for once didn't want to. He walked with alarming speed down the corridor towards the chemistry labs where he was always far more comfortable and went back into the room he'd been in trying to complete his homework to retrieve his bookbag. He hadn't taken it with him, having thought that he would have just walked in, turned the distruptive noise off, and return. Having a conversation with that woman had not occured to him, he hadn't prepared for it. But right now he didn't pay much mind to his oversight, he was far too preoccupied with the feeling that there were germs on him from speaking to her. He wished he didn't have to breathe, knowing that CO2 particles in the air had been in her disgusting lungs. Freddy froze and blinked very hard, then peeled off the gloves on his hands and poured sanitizer on them to hold him over until he could get to the big sink in the one classroom to properly wash his hands and arms.
He would probably then return to his dorm to change his clothes and burn what he currently wore. The sensation of his skin crawling was almost too much for him to bear. He must make sure he never encounter her again, he'd run if he had to, to avoid having to be near the germ and parasite-infected woman with wings. Still the fact that her parents hadn't removed them baffled him, a sensation he didn't enjoy, being baffled. The wings were tenfold more terrible than the mole he had had on his arm, that his parents removed with the utmost speed, but wings? She must have been sired by idiots and raised likewise. Again he felt sick, so much so he feared that he'd be physically sick. He needed to find that sink and immediately. Freddy slung his bag over his shoulder and left the room, turning the opposite way and walking quickly to the proper room. He knew it was rude to do so, but he went in without knocking and walked rapidly to the large sink and put on fresh gloves before turning on the hot water with a little bit of cold - he didn't want to scald his skin to the point of peeling it off, that looked filthy even though it would remove the germs. He would simply use alot of soap and wash several times.
Synthea was grading papers from her Advanced Honors Biochemistry class. Seven students, six of them failing, it was frustrating, the little morons couldn’t answer the simplest questions. She had wanted a simple paper on the production of proteins from mRNA, half of them hadn’t answered the question she had asked, she was sure many of them didn’t even know what she had asked. She wanted to beat them to death with the pen in her hand, and so instead was forced to cover much of their papers in a sheen of blue ink, corrections and even just general insults. A little frustrating, of course, but she took it out as best she could. She was, in fact, just finishing the last paper and considering what she was going to do next when the door swung open and someone ran to the sink.
Her head shot up, her hair, in its elegant twist on top of her head not moving, her eyes flashing when they alighted on the young man who had invaded her hermit’s cage. People didn’t generally just wander in, it wasn’t a matter of courtesy, it was a matter of terror. She had blinded people for coming in to her lab without knocking, had broken limbs and damaged nerves irreparably. She stood up and, checking the pockets on her short dress, found her vials and her tiny plastic gun. Those would do, whoever this was would be missing much of their skin in a few minutes.
She was standing by the sink, and she recognized the person furiously scrubbing his hands in her sink. While it certainly didn’t entirely excuse the behavior, he was one of her better performing students, even if he had skipped out on her classes one year. She wondered what he was doing here, scrubbing his arms, and cleared her throat, a bright, terrifying grin on her face. “Well, hello there Mr. Blevins. Is there something I can help you with?” The pleasant, conversational tone masked the vague rage that was stirring behind her cheerful visage. He had better have a good explanation, as if she wasn’t already in a bad enough mood about someone else being moved into the building.
Freddy knew that it would have been proper and polite to knock, but he was in desperate need of a proper sink with proper hot water and good soap, none of which would have been found in any other room - at least, that met his standards. Of all the teachers in the Institute, he actually liked Dr. Wolfe the most, mostly because she was clean. The lab was clean, everything was clean, and she didn't talk nonsense like other teachers were so, so often inclined to. In fact, he hadn't liked skipping her class last year, but he had to. She was wearing yellow that year and he couldn't stand yellow. Really though it'd been for the best that he hadn't attended, he would have failed for not being able to pay attention and he would've been disruptive. Actually, she would have, without a doubt, wound up hurting him or killing him for his compulsive behaviour. Yellow bothered him very deeply. He felt sick looking at it, it made his eyes hurt and for some reason he didn't understand he experienced a bad taste in his mouth and a buzzing sound in his ears. Besides which, it actually made him unable to think straight, it seemed to disrupt the synapses. Any other colours besides yellow and brown were fine though, so now that she wore blue he attended every class.
Despite how sick he felt, Freddy looked calm if not blinking far more than he was used to; it was making him suffer dizzy sensations. He shoved his bare hands under the exceptionally hot water and rinsed them, then grabbed soap and started to scrub meticulously. Freddy was unable to look up from what he was doing because he needed to scrub in a particular pattern to get all of the skin everywhere before moving up the forearms. He spoke to her sideways, formally, sounding calm. "I apologise for entering your lab without permission, Dr. Wolfe. The new teacher here, I encountered her a moment ago because her music was loud and obnoxious. She spoke to me and - " He needed to pause, he didn't want to pause but he needed to. Freddy blinked very, very hard exactly four times, scrubbing ceased for a moment, before he supressed the wave of illness and continued. "I have been made to feel very ill because of her, I needed to wash and this is the best sink in the building. She spoke of - of phsyical acts and diseases contracted through it and used vulgar words and admitted freely her... indulgences. Please do not make me leave yet, I may be sick if I cannot remove the germs. I will be silent and complete this in five minutes." Freddy scarcely ever asked permission to do something like this, but this was Dr. Wolfe, so he would.
She stared straight at him while he explained himself, twirling a vial from her pocket on the off chance that the explanation wasn’t perfectly reasonable. She waited, and when he was done she pocketed the vial again. “So the woman is trash then? I suspected as much.” She said, offhandedly. She hadn’t yet met her, but the fact that the woman only had one doctorate and dressed like a fifteen year old prostitute was quite enough for her. Honestly, who dressed like that once they turned sixteen? Synthea might have had an answer, but it was hardly polite, and frankly the outfit wasn’t the worst of it. It was high on the list, of course (She planned to have a conversation with Chanda about not touching that thing if he ever intended to breathe near her), but the worst thing was that her educational records were hardly impressive. Between Synthea and Amelia there had always been an acceptance, because they were both more or less equally intelligent but their fields were different, this new woman, Blair or whatever, was clearly less intelligent but also an encroachment. Synthea felt like her space was being invaded, and it wasn’t a pleasant feeling.
“No, go on, that is acceptable.” She leaned against a nearby table; arms crossed, legs stretched out in front of her. “I need you to do me a favor, however.” She would wait to deal with Ms. Blair (as long as she didn’t come too close to Synthea it wasn’t really her problem at the moment), but there were more pressing things to deal with. “Have you met Ms. Fanzo? She teaches at both schools. I’m quite sure she’s the devil.” For a woman who could easily be called an Atheist without the slightest hint of argument, she still tended to be caught in language learned as a child. She worked to explain in better language, waving a hand in the air, “She’s unstable, and living that long has, I’m almost certain, produced very unusual damage to her ability to function in proper society. I want you to get a skin sample for me. Do you think you would be able to do this for me?”
The tone was indicative of a question so, despite her saying she knew it, Freddy nodded. Ms. Blair was trash, she had fairly well admitted as much, so there wasn't any logic at all in saying otherwise. Freddy tried very hard not to think about her anymore because thinking about her was to think about what she did and what she subsequently was and he'd just about finished washing his hands and forearms already. Doing so again, though cleansing, would damage his skin. Freddy finished sudsing up his forearms meticulously and began rinsing thoroughly, grabbing four paper towels to dry himself off once finished. All the germs he'd felt on his skin, crawling and multiplying, were gone now, leaving his skin a bright pink colour because of the hot water and intense scrubbing. Thanks to Dr. Wolfe, he thought, for allowing him to stay, otherwise he didn't know what he would've done. Freddy supposed that he would have sought out the second-best sink in the Jacobi building, or perhaps resorted to burning the germs off with some form of accelerant and matches - matches were easily found in the building, they were laying about almost everywhere there were bunsen burners, which also were just about everywhere. He had almost done that in elementary school in kindergarten when the teacher wouldn't listen to him when he asked, most politely, if he could leave to wash his hands after another child had gotten finger paint on his hand. Freddy had never understood the meaning or purpose of a high five. All the boy had said, or rather, shouted was 'I drewed a bunny, high five!' and stuck up his hand then told Freddy to do likewise. He'd never done anything without asking why beforehand ever again.
He threw the paper towel neatly into the trash can and turned crisply to face Dr. Wolfe with his hands folded neatly infront of him. All his life he'd had 99% perfect posture and it would be 100% if not for his tilting of his head at particular statements, questions or similar. He tipped his head to the left when she said that she required him to do her a favour. After being allowed to use her sink, Freddy would question the favour only a little, but would most likely carry it out. He listened attentively, looking at her directly in the eye and not blinking while she spoke. Then again, overall he scarcely twitched a single muscle that wasn't beyond his control; anything short of his lungs and heart and those, he didn't move. "I have seen Ms. Fanzo but have not met her directly." Freddy took a short moment to process what it meant if, or rather, that Ms. Fanzo was in fact unstable. If Ms. Fanzo had degraded mentally in facets that allowed her to function properly in public then perhaps, if she was referred to as the devil, it meant that she was of considerable danger to those around her in base ways. Base ways including boundaries, health-related matters, all in all she would probably wind up causing considerable damage. Freddy decided that he agreed with Dr. Wolfe. "I will get a sample of Ms. Fanzo's skin for you." Finality and determination virtually oozed from his words, but perhaps only under a more scrutinizing gaze - or trained ear.
He remembered that it was appropriate and polite to thank a person for allowing privledges and he counted using the sink as a privledge. "Thank you for allowing me to use the sink, Dr. Wolfe. Also, though I originally planned to apologize after class, now seems appropriate. I am sorry for not attending your class all of last year, I took no joy from it; your classes are most beneficial. After doing research on body language and practising, I believe this posture is appropriate." He let his arms hang at his sides limply and put his head down. "This is remorse, correct? Am I doing it properly?" Freddy wasn't trying to do anything other than, as a rare occurence, try to express something. Flattery wasn't something he ever did because there was no purpose to it really, it was just another form of lie or deception, and he had no plans to attempt that here. He wasn't trying to be cute by asking if he'd done it right; he was honestly asking because he wasn't sure as to whether he was being precise or not. He straightened up and resumed his former posture, "When would you like the skin sample brought to you?"
When he agreed she smiled broadly, genuinely pleased. She had been concerned that she might have to go about it herself, and had no desire to do so. After all, the woman could be dangerous, and Synthea was hardly graceful enough to be subtle. It would be better if she sent someone younger, the woman seemed to be comfortable around children, she might even allow Freddy to take the skin sample without complaint or too much question. That would be a positive, in fact, and if he did well he might even be able to tell her about how the woman acted in conversation, a perfectly acceptable bonus. She liked the tone of voice he took on, perhaps too subtle for others to catch, but determined and final, she liked that. It meant that he would do whatever he could to succeed in the task she’d given him, she approved, most definitely. Once she had the skin sample she could figure out precisely how the woman’s powers worked, to see what the chances were that she might suffer from brain damage as a result. And, if she got lucky, she might be able to synthesize the power, and use it for some other purpose. That clearly wasn’t the point, but it was another little bonus.
The smile turned to laughter, though, when he asked if he was expressing remorse correctly, and she giggled behind one gloved hand, amused at his inability to express typical emotion. It seemed to be a rather normal difficulty with people of such high intelligence. Either the inability to express emotion at all or the inability to express it properly, something happened to cause them to lose that ability. Whatever the cause was, however, was not her concern at the moment, and once she had stopped laughing she nodded, “That is correct, yes, your apology is accepted.” Not without price, of course, she would have him running errands and doing things for her for much of the rest of his time here. He was intelligent, and she was quite sure she could get him to do what she said, it would work out well for him as well, she could teach him things other people could not. “I want it as soon as you can possibly get it, but wait for or make a good opportunity.” She walked over to a cabinet and pulled out a Petri-dish with a lid and held them out, “You can put it in here, and bring it straight here once you have it. Don’t stop, don’t bother knocking on the door.”
His eyebrows moved so exceptionally slightly that it was barely noticeable at all, but he was responding to her smiling broadly and honestly pleased with his answer. It couldn't very well be described as happiness inside, but it was something in that same spirit though perhaps better described as just being pleased himself. Freddy had been considering what he would have had to do if she had been thoroughly annoyed at him for skipping her class last year. Not many options had him leaving the room with his face together, skin unblemished, or limbs all attached, because Dr. Wolfe had a very particular reputation. There wasn't a single other time he could recall that he'd been so set in suceeding in a task given to him, though he didn't count his parents in that, obeying his parents went without discussion - not that he even minded, his parents were good, intelligent, talented people. They were clean and honest - with him at the very least.
Freddy cocked his head a little but not in the regular fashion he did when people laughed at him. She didn't seem to be laughing at him as a person but rather just a peculiarity resulting from his intellect. That was acceptable being that he knew it was odd to not be able to express emotions. Freddy didn't even care that he couldn't, didn't much care to know how, but knew it was necessary to at least be able to mimick it convincingly for others in a self-serving fashion. Again he felt that strange feeling in the back of his head that was something like pleased. The Doctor had accepted his apology, he was pleased. He suspected that he would have to do something or some things by way of retribution, but he accepted that. Of all the people in the Institute he'd prefer this setup to anyone else, everyone else generally proving to be intellectually inferior, disgusting, or in some other fashion unpleasant. He actually wanted to go get the skin sample as quickly as possible almost to prove that he could, even though he probably didn't need to. Freddy took the petri-dish and lid without bothering with gloves, knowing it'd be clean in here, and put them carefully in a side pouch of his bag. He nodded, "Yes, Dr. Wolfe." He looked to the side, moving his head, not his eyes, sharply, then looked back a second later. "I will make an opportunity now; I do not have class for the remainder of the afternoon." Freddy had dropped Art, it being a useless class, and already had an extra credit under his belt and could get away with it. "May I use a scalpel please?"
He reminded her of herself when she was younger, that inability to be normal. She wondered if it bothered him as much as it had her when she was his age. Not any noticeable thing, really, but that subtle knowledge that she was unable to be like anyone else. But then, he was like other people, he had been raised by parents who, if she recalled correctly (And she generally did), had been of the same sort. She wondered if that made him lucky or not, sure, he hadn’t had to go through the difficulties of trying desperately to be normal, but that sort of thing was character building. It put your place in the world into totally clear perspective. Well, maybe he would still manage, he wasn’t so bad a kid, she found him amusing and he would prove useful as well.
He asked for a scalpel and caught her in her reverie; she jumped out of it with no physical indicia save a suddenly more altogether there look to her eyes. “Of course, of course.” She said, walking off to the side and drawing a drawer, inside, in a plastic case perhaps the size of two bricks, were forty scalpels, the sharp tops covered in plastic. She pulled one out and twirled it in her fingers, holding it out with the handle toward him. “Don’t take the time to clean it off when you’re done, just come back here as quickly as possible.” She cautioned, she wasn’t sure what would happen to the woman’s skin if it was removed from her body, if it would wither away or remain perfectly normal. She didn’t want to risk losing this opportunity. If she had to do it again it would lose the element of surprise, and there would be difficulties. She didn’t like difficulties. “You may leave now. Best of luck.” She turned back to the papers she had been grading.
Sometimes he was made to feel distinctly out of place with the looks he got in everyday situations, how his former roommate had behaved upon meeting him and subsequently moved somewhere else. All very small things, but then, small things had a way of melting into one big thing that sometimes proved more bothersome. While his intellect and subsequent oddities that stemmed from it didn't bother him, those differences, when someone looked, laughed, or otherwise scorned him for his germaphobia, then it bothered him. Freddy couldn't accurately describe what it was, the sensation it brought on, but he distinctly disapproved of it. He did count himself fairly lucky that his parents and he were so similar, all of them posessing phobias of germs and disliking physical contact, his parents hating it to the point where, though they wanted a child, they wouldn't have it any other way than artificially. Freddy was bullied about that too, though he had no shame in it personally, it bothered him anyway that they would target him for it. So though it didn't bother him near so much that he was unable to be normal, he'd found himself clearly defined as outside the norm and thus handed perspective on things. Still though, he knew he had alot of things to learn.
It seemed, though, that Dr. Wolfe misinterpreted what Freddy required the scalpel for. Perfectly understandable, he thought, as he was charged to get a skin sample from someone and would require something of the sort to obtain it. But no, that wasn't what he needed it for just then. She had told him that he needed to either find or make an opportunity to see Ms. Fanzo and thereby get the skin sample, and so he would. She didn't teach him any classes, so he logically and correctly assumed that he needed to make a reason to go see her while she acted a doctor. He cocked his head a little, "I do not require the scalpel for Ms. Fanzo." Freddy wordlessly fished out a perfectly clean hankercheif from a pouch on his pack and held it in the palm of his left hand, back of his hand facing up. He prepared a sanitized wipe for the scalpel for afterward and without hesitation cut the back of his left hand. It was a clean cut and didn't spurt, dripped a little onto the hankerchief he held, and was otherwise a good cut as far as cuts went. Though, superficially, it bothered him a little that it wasn't straight across the back of his hand, it angled upward a little. He supposed that it was for the best though, so that it didn't look like it had been done on purpose. Freddy quickly and robotically cleaned the scalpel one-handed and set it in the sink for further cleaning later. Freddy thought it odd that she wished him luck, luck having nothing to do with anything and being nonexistant. There was no such thing as luck. Freddy nodded anyway, "I will return shortly. Thank you, Dr. Wolfe."
[prearranged discussion with teh Chels, no worries]
Within twenty-five minutes, Freddy returned to the lab with the skin sample. It hadn't been troublesome at all to get from her, he'd wound up just asking her permission to have one, under the premise of wanting to understand homeostasis better. He walked into the lab without knocking, as instructed to, and crossed immediately to hand her the petri-dish. It seemed rude to just put it down on her desk or on the work tables, so he stood there patiently with his arm extended for her to take it personally. He had to admit, it was refreshing to be somewhere he didn't feel the need to wear gloves in or constantly sanitize his hands. The only other place he felt safe and that it was clean enough for him to do so was home. But that was an inappropriate and ill-fitting comparison, though, frankly, the only one he could make. It also seemed inappropriate to say anything, so he stood there silently. The bandage over his left hand though bothered him a little, he wanted to replace it with one of his own, sanitize the cut again himself, because though Ms. Fanzo proved to be not quite as horrible as he'd thought, he didn't trust her well enough to treat a wound - even a minor one.
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Jules Volkov
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6:31 PM Nov 22
