Hound55

Absolute Comics - Season Two: The Monster Within

N E W Y O R K S C I E N C E E X P O

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^{Present Day | Jacob K. Javits Convention Center, Manhattan, New York}

Ted Kord walked quickly down 11th Avenue in the early evening. He still had his Blue Beetle suit on underneath his brand new tux, albeit now obscured by an extra layer of undergarment quickly put together by one Janet van Dyne. It cleverly concealed the telltale colours and shape of the suit, giving him a smoother contour, but added an extra half inch to his suit size compared with if he were wearing nothing at all underneath. Gloves and cowl zipped into internal pockets, as well as the BB gun broken down to flat components and tucked away as well. She’d done a marvellous job, truly remarkable given how little time she had to work with.

Still, his appearance had yet to have to stand up to any real test, although it would now. Tony Stark was standing out the front of the Convention Center, once again flanked by the same two beauties he’d seen him with on the television earlier. One a beautiful caramel skinned South American bombshell with striking green hair. She had matched this feature perfectly with the bare minimum amount of material required to qualify as a cocktail dress in a complementary green shade. An emerald necklace plunging deep into the neckline - as if that region needed anymore attention - completed the ensemble. The other appeared far more fair skinned. Ted might guess Scandinavian or East European, maybe even Russian. With a straight white bob cut. She wore a far more subdued royal blue cocktail dress, but still looked just as phenomenal as any female company Tony Stark usually surrounded himself with.

“Kord.” He said, approaching him with a hand out. An expression on his face that Ted couldn’t quite pinpoint between a smirk and a smile, but full of unmistakable self-confidence. “...I see you’ve been making great time.” Ted took his hand and shook it. “A dad-bod whilst still in your early twenties. Impressive.”

There it is. Ted could almost feel the flop sweat drop and instantly soak both pits. Still OK. Keep your cool and stick a comeback.

“Yeah, nice work with the Dali.” Ted said, ending the handshake and rubbing his chin.

“This isn’t a Dali. That’s a long thin moustache that curls at the ends. You’re thinking of a Zappa...”

“Yes!” Ted blurted out, pointing his finger slightly too excited. “Ha!” With a grin as if he’d somehow “Got” Tony Stark.

“Except this isn’t a Zappa either.” There was no mistaking the expression now. Smirk all the way.

“Men’s Health Weekly call this a ‘Stark’. It’s flattering, and let’s face it, perfectly descriptive, but perhaps a little over the top. You know how those Men’s style magazines get…”

Ted could see the retort coming. Time seemed to crawl. The girls Stark was with almost seemed to feel sorry for him now and that was the worst part of all.

“...or maybe not.” Stark tapped him twice on the stomach and turned around and went inside, followed by the two models who fortunately didn’t spare him a look-behind pity glance. “I’ll see you in there.”

Ted slouched deeply. God dammit.

* * * * *

Ted eventually skulked back to K.O.R.D’s segment of the showroom, tail between his legs.

“Ted! Over here!” Murray Takamoto waved him over. “Where the Hell have you been?”

“Some things came up. Needed my attention. How’s everything here?” Ted asked. Murray and Jeremiah Duncan looked considerably relieved to finally see him.

“Mmmmmmokay?” Murray answered, looking to Jeremiah for support.

“That sounded more like a question than a statement, and it makes me nervous. Where are we? What’s happened to the product?”

“Oh good. You’re asking that question.” Replied Murray with an uncomfortably large grin on his face. “The product itself is fine.”

“Yes. We must stress the product is absolutely fine. Perfect working order. It’s set up in that Beamer over there.” Reaffirmed Jeremiah, pointing to a maroon BMW parked across the floor in a corner of the showroom..

“That’s it over there?” Asked Ted. “Next to the blue Testarossa?”

“Yes. It was the original model made over in--” They both confirmed before Ted cut them off.

“Why is there is a multi-million dollar blue Testarossa parked next to what we’re using to market our product? Waitaminute-- the original was red, how do you get Ferrari of all companies to paint their original model blue?”

“I guess if you’re Tony Stark then people will--” Jeremiah elbowed Murray and gave him a disappointed look for running his mouth.

“Stark? But-- He’s got nothing to do with cars? Why’s he got a blue Testarossa here?”

Ted rushed over to get a closer look. The pair waited until he came back, heads bowed.

“Are you kidding me?!?”

Murray and Jeremiah looked on sheepishly.

“It doesn’t have anything to do with anything! He’s painted a work of art a crass blue, slapped on a Stark Industries decal and he’s got some model writhing around on the hood taking pictures with anyone who wants one!”

“We can only control what we can control, Ted.” Jeremiah replied, attempting to sooth the CEO. “People will see it for what it is. Cheap attention grabbing tactics.”

“I saw Jeff Jarvis over there! He’s a major geek journalist and weblogger and he’s taking thumbs up photos with her by the car like it’s Spring Break! The man took down Dell!”

“Jeremiah’s right. We can only run our race.” Murray replied.

“Well, at least now I know why you were both being evasive… You didn’t want me to see that.”

“Well, I’m going to take this opportunity to go to the toilet, while you tell him. This is why they pay you the big bucks.” Murray said to Jeremiah, as he quickly walked away.

“Don’t you go getting a photograph with her, Takamoto!”

Murray quickly did an aboutface and walked back past the pair in the opposite direction. “Sorry. Toilet’s this way.” Ted scowled at him all the way.

“Spill it…” Ted said to Jeremiah once Murray was gone, folding his arms and looking down on the smaller executive.

“Randall Truman called. The focus group fell through so we still don’t have a name. All we know is that we can’t call it--”

“The Carjack Off.”

“Yes. That.”

Ted pinched his brow deeply in frustration.

“Ted, you can’t kill him.” The Chief Operations Officer reminded him.

“I’m not going to kill him, Jeremiah.” He mumbled whilst deep in facepalm. “I might shave him bald and feed him each of his $5,000 suits, and the expensive Italian loafers he purchased with his undeserved senior executive salary, garnishing it generously with his own hair… but I’m not going to kill him.” He straightened back up, ready to problem-solve.

“Alright. Names. Any ideas?”

“That’s not really my kind of field of expertise, Ted.”

“Great. So I guess I’m winging it.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea? You were the one to name it that in the first place.”

“It was a joke, Jer’. Nobody ever goes with the engineer’s name for a product. It was a dumb juvenile joke because it never matters.”

“Except in this case.”

“Yes. Except in this case.”

Ted slouched further. God dammit.

* * * * *

Mostly, however, these things were about networking. Being on the receiving end of Stark’s sarcastic jibes, having Dario Agger the head of Roxxon pretend he didn’t know who he was. At least he thought he was pretending. Ugh.

Suddenly he saw a craggly faced older gent with an unmistakable hairstyle in a dark green suit approaching him with his hand held out.

“Kord.” He said. “I’d like you to meet my son, Harry. Harry, this is Mister Ted Kord. Evidence that you’re never too young to take initiative, pull yourself up by your bootstraps and step up into a position of taking responsibility for a father’s business.”

Ted looked at the younger Osborn, who’d been gifted the same unmistakable haircut either by choice, genetics or unfortunate accident. He seemed to flinch or twitch at his father’s comment.

“Norman,” He said, shaking his hand and looking at his son with no small amount of sympathy, “and Harry. Circumstances kind of played a hand in that. I used to just be an engineer. After going to Worcester Polytechnic.” He winked at Harry. “So even ESU wouldn’t have me! So we all have our own pace, Harry.” Norman bristled.

“So what are you liking at school?” Ted asked the youth.

"I'm alright. Pretty good at chem, math, that sorta thing." Harry replied.

Norman's nose wrinkled at the comment. "With help from Mr. Parker, I'm sure."

Harry nodded slightly.

“I didn’t ask what you’re doing well in, I asked what you’re liking.” Ted prodded. “If you don’t enjoy your job you’re going to find excuses not to do it. Now again, what are you liking?”

“Well…” A wry grin started to cross Harry’s face. “We did this term on coding and programming in Computer Studies a few years back, and since then I’ve been working on some things in my spare time.” Harry took out his OsPhone. “Have you ever heard of Byerim? We’ve got it on our OzBox...” He opened up YouTube.

“Well, yes. But I’ve got it on PC... Oh don’t look at me like that Norman, PC gaming is more customizable.” But Norman was more steamed with the redirection that this conversation had taken, than any issue with Ted Kord owning one of his game consoles.

“Well, you say that. But you haven’t seen this yet…” Said Harry as he played a video uploaded by ‘LittleOz’.

“Oh you made some mods, that’s coo-- Whoa! Look how clean that is… Wait, you did this on a console? How in God’s name? That’s like it’s part of the actual game itself!”

“Yeah, I taught myself. We’ve got an OzBox toolkit, I was playing around with it, figuring things out. I made all this stuff with the OsEdits myself for console."

“This is incredible! Norman, have you seen what your kid… Norman?” But Norman Osborn had no interest in seeing what his son had done. He was storming away infuriated by the corrupting influence of what he perceived as Ted’s slacker gamer mentality. Harry dropped his head, seeing his angry father walk away, only for Ted to nudge him and cheer him up.

“You really texture this all yourself? For a console?”

Harry perked up again and grinned with pride. “Yeah.”

“Umm Mr Kord, would I be able to take a photo with you? It’d freak my friend out.”

Ted laughed a hollow laugh as much to protect his own ego as anything, he didn't know how many more shots his self esteem could take today. “Are you sure he’d even know who I am?”

“Oh yeah.” Harry said. “He’s a full blown science and tech geek. He’s already jealous my Dad gets us in here.”

Ted smiled. After all the snubs at this Expo at least he still had the die hard geeks. “Well, how about we do one better? We video chat him and really blow his mind.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, why not. I can spare the time.” He looked away to Murray and Jeremiah to make sure they didn’t need him for anything. Murray awkwardly shrugged and mouthed “What?” Ted waved him away and shook his head.

“OK. You stand over here and I’ll introduce-- no, maybe you should walk in from the side.” The two worked out the choreography of the given call for a few minutes, before Harry was satisfied enough to call his friend.

* * * * *

A few hours later the Expo opened to the general public, with only insiders, their guests and press members previously being permitted inside.

“OK Ted, I think it’s show time.” Said Jeremiah, getting his things together and ushering the CEO towards the car. Murray walked slightly behind the pair.

“The product itself is fine though, you promise me that?”

“Full working order. So keep the flash and the sonic discharging orifice away from your face.” Murray warned.

“Really? ‘Discharging orifice?’” Ted questioned.

“Don’t blame me. Marketing--”

“I got it, I got it. Focus group fell through.” Murray pushed his boss onwards.

Ted stepped up onto the platform with the car, taking a microphone and tapping the top to draw attention and check that it was working.

_{“Crime has been--”}

Nothing. No response, barely heard over the din. Ted hit the car alarm button on the key chain and the cacophony and flashing lights drew in a small crowd who started to settle down and speak in hushed tones. Even Tony Stark and his followers turned to see what exactly was going on. For a split second he could have even sworn he saw the girl in the blue dress smile at him, before she turned away and looked around at the rest of the room, whilst returning to Stark’s side.

“Huh--” Started Ted, sitting down on the edge of the platform. “--I’m surprised that worked as well as it did. After all we’re in New York City. Who here actually turns around at the sound of a car alarm these days? It’s become background noise. The soundtrack of a city, yes?” Ted stepped down and walked around the front of the platform, looking people in the eye.

“It hasn’t helped with the crime problem at all. In fact the NYPD has said there’s evidence to suggest that it actually makes matters worse and often acts to conceal crime. To the point where there’s been conversations regarding legislation on these loud, abrasive hindrances which do little to help in our daily lives.” Ted jumped back up on the platform with a single sweeping glide-step.

“Unchanged since the 80s. Old. Stale. And frankly of questionable value. Sounds to me like someone needs to take a look at completely revolutionizing the form anti-car theft measures take place for the new century.” He turned to face the growing crowd.

“So we did. Ladies and gentlemen, I present the CJO Anti-theft system. From K.O.R.D’s laboratories to your tomorrow.”

Murray hit a few keys and a screen dropped to the floor, where demonstration videos were played.

The crowd seemed to huddle in a little more. Even Stark and his entourage seemed to be at least temporarily taken by Ted’s presentation.

“...Kord Omniversal Research and Development. Simplifying tomorrow for a better future, today.” Ted winced slightly, he’d never liked the corporate tagline marketing had come up with.

“So what exactly does it mean?” A familiar voice from the middle of the pack.

Ted started to sweat at the thought of having to explain his company’s ridiculous campaign slogan.

“Excuse me, what was that?” Ted asked, hoping to buy himself a few seconds to think.

Stark paraphrased himself. “‘CJO’. What exactly does it stand for?”

“Oh.” Said Ted, walking around the platform, trying desperately to think of something.

“Well, ‘C’ and ‘J’ stand for ‘Car’ and ‘Jacker’ respectively…”

“And the ‘O’?” Pressed Stark.

“Well, the ‘O’ stands for ‘Oooooohmygodlookouteveryone!”

It all happened so fast. That’s what people seldom realize about these hero/villain slugfests. Everything happens quickly, only the people who train to react generally do. And often things happen so fast people can barely be sure of exactly what they saw.

First, five people in brightly coloured garb pushed through the crowd. Then the weapon was drawn. Suddenly a metal figure dropped from the glass ceiling and stepped in front of Ted Kord, pushing him back firmly with a solid metal arm. Ted Kord tumbled over the hood of the car. The girl who had been on top of the blue Testarossa screamed as shards of thick glass came down. Ted dove over the car with little regard for its place in automotive history, and kept her head down away from the glass. Covering her with his tuxedo jacket.

“That’s it! It’s not in the car!” Yelled one of the colourful men. The weapon was lined up again. Ted ran around the car and the blast hitting the metal suit was large enough to blast him back over the car and against the back corner wall of the showroom.

He looked up just in time to see his company’s B.E.E.T.L.E suit aiming a weapon at one of these colourful men as people screamed and pandemonium broke out all around.

“Abner you lunatic. What the Hell have you done?”

Absolute Comics - Season Two: The Monster Within

I'm still alive, yes, and working on something which should be up by the weekend

_{But please no critiquing...looking at you, @Retired}

@Xandrya

I'll hold the door! Run!

Absolute Comics - Season Two: The Monster Within

*Hangs head in shame*

Absolute Comics - Season Two: The Monster Within

I don't want to say how many times I had to edit that OOC post...

Absolute Comics - Season Two: The Monster Within

The Making Of A Ted Kord Post:

Step One. The content is written, probably over 3 sessions. One of which is almost always spent doing nothing but staring at a blank page in my BB doc (which features basic notes, such as the names and positions of K.O.R.D employees, because I stupidly chose to give my character a perfect memory, so now I must also remember all of these fictitious people. Yes, even the ones with only a given name mentioned who have no comics backing).

Step 2. No editing. Too lazy. I go to a previous post I already wrote and “Quote” it to grab my own BB image and header coding. I paste the content from the document underneath, delete the quote tags and update the header accordingly.

Step 3. “Post Reply”. Again, no editing. No checking for errors. That’s loser talk.

Step 4. I quickly skim over the now online post, checking for obvious coding errors.

Step 5. The swearing. This happens due to the missed obvious coding errors.

Step 6. Edit post. I run over the code and repair what I noticed. Sometimes Steps 4-6 happen several times more than should happen to a person who considers themselves remotely intelligent.

Step 7. The calm before the storm. I catch up reading other stuff. Do GM work elsewhere, read other posts, IC and OOC in this thread and others. Awaiting response/notification regarding this thread and post.

Step 8. Paranoia. I have heard nothing and it’s been fifteen minutes. Maybe some of that stuff didn’t work? Have I caused offense? Did I do too little with my dialogue-driven posting style? Can the others sense my body odour through the screen whilst I sweat over this post?

Step 9. Cave and re-read my already online post. “Fuck it, I guess I’d better go look at that again.” “@Star Lord liked it but he does that before he even reads the damn posts, so that doesn’t tell me anything…”

Step 10. The swearing. This happens due to the missed obvious errors. NOTE: Last post I called Ted “Hank” 3 times in the first 2 damn paragraphs and no-one noticed, despite it having multiple likes after the first few hours.

Step 11. Edit Post. I fix the obvious errors and continue my read through. Again, Steps 9 – 11 get repeated far more times than I would like to admit to in this process.

Step 12. Broad acclaim! Congratulations, you have a successful Blue Beetle post!

Absolute Comics - Season Two: The Monster Within

Wrinkled, for her pleasure.

Absolute Comics - Season Two: The Monster Within

If only one tenth of the effort of OOC sass, went into IC content, you could help provide a single Australian man, starving for entertainment today, while he struggles through the drudgery of work.

Please. Give generously.

Absolute Comics - Season Two: The Monster Within

Absolute Comics - Season Two: The Monster Within

Well there's a post up for anyone with a spare weekend with no obligations whatsoever to devote to reading something ridiculously overlength...

Absolute Comics - Season Two: The Monster Within

T H E H O M E O F H A N K P Y M & J A N E T V A N D Y N E

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^{Present Day | Manhattan, New York}

Ted had woken up alone and fully dressed on his hotel bed after a night of drunken debauchery on the town in New York city with his good friend. A night which involved a lot of drunkenness, but minimal actual debauchery. None, if you’re looking for an exact number. His head had a dull ache and his mouth had been so full of fur he couldn’t be sure he hadn’t been licking rats.

It had been 5 AM and Ted had decided he could probably have a quick shower and then still have had enough time to walk to Hank and Jan’s complex. A brisk walk in the cool Manhattan morning air would probably be the best thing for his hangover, and he wasn’t wrong. Getting out of the shower he started to put on a shirt, before he remembered the tone of Hank’s original messages. He sighed, unbuttoned his shirt, before he went to his bag and took out his Blue Beetle suit, putting it on before he got dressed in a full suit over the top, just in case it took too much of his time prior to the Expo.

He had stepped out into the chill and immediately felt thankful for the added thermal layer of his other suit, before walking swiftly towards his friend’s home. He remembered the first time he’d been to the complex. “The complex” was the only suitable description for the place. The living quarters were in complete service the laboratory, almost as if to be an afterthought. And a less kind person than Ted might suggest that it was far from the only complex that Hank Pym had…

Last time Ted was here he had stayed a little late on Jan’s request. He could tell they seldom entertained, and she was clearly enjoying the fact that they had a visitor Hank actually liked and kept him sociable and out of the lab for a few extra hours of the day. Ted had gone to use the bathroom and sent his father a quick message that he wouldn’t be stopping over that night, because he’d been held up in New York. After washing his hands he’d passed Hank, and the squirrely blonde man jumped and made an expression like he’d just been caught.

He was struggling with the cap off a bottle of pills.

Ted had said “Do you need any help with that?” And that had only triggered more fear in Hank. He’d held the pill bottle behind him, as if to try and hide what Ted had clearly already seen.

“C’mon. I’ll open it for you.”

Hank had gone non-verbal from a massive anxiety spike, and held a clenched fist to the side of his head. He held the bottle out, almost in surrender. The fear on his face was palpable. Ted tried to break the tension with a joke.

“You’ve got a prescription for this, right? I’m not aiding and abetting you in using crank, or whizz, or fizz… Hank?”

Hank was still on a razor’s edge, but he seemed to be able to verbalize again, albeit in a limited capacity.

“Fizz..?”

“Yeah, you know how it is, Hank. All these kids out there these days… All hopped out of their gourds on... Fizz.” Ted smiled, with humour in his voice.

“No-- I-- I have got a prescription. PrescriptionS.”

“Well, good. You go get yourself some water, and I’ll crack this open for you.”

“Ok-- Okay.”

“People need pills, buddy. I’ll never think less of you for taking stuff you’ve got to take.”

Hank walked away to go and get himself a cup of water, whilst Ted looked down at the bottle. He applied the pressure to beat the childproofing and twisted the top off. He left the bottle of Lithium capsules on the counter and turned around.

Jan had been looking at him with a smile.

* * * * *

Ted got to the complex at 6:50 and waited out the front for a while. Hank had a thing about punctuality and tended to make a point of it if you arrived early or late when there was an agreed upon time. It was generally a lost cause to try and make it on the dot with whatever Hank’s own clock said the time was, but remembering the tone of the messages Ted decided to at least make a concerted effort to not start things off by agitating him.

A few minutes later he hit the buzzer.

“Hank, it’s Ted. I’m here.”

“It’s 6:58. I wasn’t-- Wasn’t expecting you until 7.”

“That’s OK. It’ll take me two minutes to make it up the driveway.”

“You’re early.” He said. Ted could hear some faint fast tapping in the background, before Hank shut the intercom off and buzzed him in, not expecting a response. So much for keeping him from being agitated, Ted thought as he pushed through the front gate. Ted took the opportunity to reset his watch to “Hank-Time” as he started the long walk.

Ted got to the front door and knocked.

The door suddenly burst open, taking Kord slightly by surprise, as his friend rushed through and hugged him.

“Whoa, Hey Hank. How’re you going?”

“Good. Good-good-good.” Hank said. “And it's good to see you, Ted. Thanks for coming.”

“That’s alright. Can we get off your porch though?”

“Oh. Sure. Sure-sure. Come on in. You want chai? Coffee? Soup? Ovaltine?”

The pair went inside and closed the door.

“Not… just yet. How’s things? You sounded like you had a problem. Where’s Jan?”

“Problem? Ah. Need help. Yes-yes. Sure.”

“And Jan?”

“Gone to work. Part of the problem.”

“Part of the problem? Oh shit. What have I got myself into..?” Ted thought to himself, thinking the Blue Beetle suit probably couldn’t help with… whatever the hell this problem was.

“I’m trying to fix everything. I’ve done it, but she’s bee-- She’s been touching my stuff. Can’t work. Chaos.”

“Chaos?”

“Things have been moving. Disappearing. Can’t work. I need my things-- I need everything where I put it. I HAVE A SYSTEM.” Suddenly he spoke considerably louder. Not yelling at anyone, or with a sense of outrage. Just louder. As if he were emphasising a point, but without the change in cadence that would normally join it.

“OK, Hank. You have a system. First thing’s first though, I have to use your bathroom. It’s been pretty cold out there, you understand?”

“Oh. Ok. Sure-sure-sure. I’ll be here. Want anything while you’re gone? Chai? Coffee--”

“No, Hank. Just the bathroom for now. Then we’ll see what we can do. ...With all of this.”

Ted walked down the hall to the bathroom. He locked the door behind him, sat on the seat and whipped his phone out. Firing a message to Jan.

“Is everything OK with you and Hank? He asked me to come here yesterday. I’m here now and he looks like he’s off his meds, he’s blaming you for wrecking his work. He said you’ve gone to work. Is everything alright?”

He hit send. Decided he did actually need to use the toilet, got off the seat and flipped the lid. He rocked his head back, which still had the dull ache and nausea of his hangover, and let the stream flow with his eyes shut. He got startled by the sound of the Star Trek intercom whistle and lost control of his stream somewhat, swearing in the process. He re-gathered himself, finished and dried off the splash zone, before pulling his phone out and seeing what Jan had to say.

“Wait...”

He cursed again at himself and the situation for making a mess over an unnecessary message. He quickly set his phone to vibrate and waited. He closed the lid and went to press the flush, before deciding to hold off in case Hank heard it and assumed he was done. He turned and sat down. Suddenly the phone erupted and he hit the button to receive.

“Hi.” He whispered.

“Hello. Where are you?”

“Bathroom.” Ted mumbled quietly.

“OK, well, he’s bee--”

“Ted, are you alright in there?” Hank suddenly asked from the other side of the door.

“Uh… Yeah. I’m OK. Kind of made a little bit of a mess.” He answered honestly.

“...you know how you asked me before if I wanted anything?”

“Yes. Chai? Coff--”

“Maybe we could have breakfast together. 7 o’ clock was pretty early, I didn’t grab anything to eat at the hotel before I left.”

There was an uncomfortable pause for a few seconds whilst Hank considered this.

“Hotel?”

“Yeah. For the Expo. All the plans get organized in advance through the company. I’ve been staying at a pretty fancy place uptown. But I didn’t leave myself enough time to get anything to eat before I came here.”

The pause was much shorter this time.

“Ah. OK. Cereal?”

“Ah, no!” Ted quickly responded. “Have you got any bacon and eggs?” Ted quickly started to scramble thinking for breakfast items that would take longer to cook and keep him busy during the phone call. “And waffles? Maybe some french toast if you don’t have waffles?”

Hank considered this. “Is that-- is it usual for that? I thought it was only customary to offer tea or coffee or some kind of beverage.”

“Well, we’re pretty close friends, Hank. And I haven’t had breakfast this morning… and you keep yourself pretty busy in that lab, so I’m assuming you haven’t had breakfast either…”

“I haven’t had breakfast either. I don’t often ha--”

“Yeah, see. We’re close good friends, and neither of us have had breakfast yet. Social norms that’s pretty regular. Above board and usual. All of that.”

“Hmm!” Hank replied, somewhat pleased, having formed a new conclusion about his understood social norms. “Ok. I think we have eggs. Probably bacon. I don’t know about waffles…”

“If there’s no waffles, that’s ok!” Ted called back. “You know how to make french toast?” Ted called back, trying to make sure Hank wouldn’t return to inform him of the household’s groceries list.

“Uhh…” Hank pondered, reluctant to try something new and foreign.

“French toast is easy. You crack some eggs. Whisk them all together. Dip bread in the egg on both sides and fry it. I’ll sort out everything in here, and then I’ll see how you’re going in the kitchen, yeah?”

“OK. Bread in eggs, fried, if no waffles. Sounds easy enough. I’ll get started.”

“OK, Hank! Catch you in a bit!” Ted yelled as he heard Hank walking away from the door.

Ted leaned into his phone with his eyes shut. None of this was comfortable.

“Are you there?”

“Yes. As I was saying, he’s been off the rails lately. I was going to suggest you go home. He often gets a bit obsessed when he’s working on something really big, but I’ve never seen him like this before. He won’t take his medication. He lashes out sometimes.”

“He-- he hasn’t hit you, has he?”

“No, no. Verbally. He’s never done anything like that. He’s only just been off his pills recently…” Ted nodded, as if she could see him. “...I feel guilty. I’ve been leaving earlier for work, because I don’t really know what to do. But at the same time, he’s off his pills and…”

“...and you know he probably shouldn’t be left alone off his meds. So, guilt. I get it. Alright. Well, how far away are you?”

“I can be home in about 30 minutes.” Ted heard her sniff. He suspected she had been crying over this, if not over the past few days, then at least was fighting it off now.

“Well, I’m going to try and get him to take his pills. And then, if I know Hank he’s probably gone into overdrive and made more bacon, eggs and french toast than he and I could possibly eat between the two of us…” Jan chuckled on her end of the line. “...and we’ll all have breakfast and talk this thing out. And it won’t just be you then. OK?”

“OK, Ted. Thanks.”

“Good.” He replied.

“Oh and Ted…”

“Yes?”

“Mr Clean is under the sink. Please don’t leave my bathroom a mess.” He could hear her smiling as she hung up.

Ted looked down at his phone.

BWAH-HA-HA-HA-HA!

* * * * *

“Hey Hank! All sorted in there. How’s everything going in here?”

Ted walked in the kitchen and realized he should probably have told Hank how he likes his eggs. There was a plate waiting loaded with eggs every which way but loose, and an empty carton which previously held 18. He was working on the bacon now, and had a loaf of bread on standby for when he finished this task. Like the eggs, the bacon was being cooked and organized in various levels of crispiness.

“Buddy, we’ll just set this to simmer, and you can go take your pills for the morning.” Ted said, turning down the burner.

Hank furrowed his brow.

“I don’t know. They-- they make things dull and fuzzy. They hurt my work.”

“Well, at the moment your work seems to be cooking all of the bacon, eggs and toast on Earth… so I think we could probably stand to shift down a gear.”

Hank thought about this.

“Besides, since I’ve gotten here you’ve been speaking a mile a minute. What’s going to help you more. Having to explain everything to me 4 or 5 times because I can’t keep up, or your pills? You’ve done fantastic work on your pills in the past. And you wanted me here, so you clearly want me to hear something.”

“You’re right.” Hank agreed. “Don’t-- don’t start on the french toast without me.”

“I won’t. I’ll just finish the bacon, then I’ll wait for you. You said you’ve never made it before. You take your meds and we’ll both make the french toast. It’ll take a while for the pan to heat up again, anyway.”

* * * * *

The pair put the fourth slice of french toast that passed Hank’s “golden brown” metric on the plate…

...which made for 14 slices of french toast total.

“So we’re done!” Ted exclaimed, as Hank smiled. They carried the plates over to the table just as Jan got home. Hank stopped and looked at her.

“Hi, Hank. I told work I’d be taking a home day. It’s my name on the door, they can last a day without me.”

“Ha!” Ted chimed in. “I say the same thing.”

“You called her.” Hank said, his face screwed up in displeasure.

“I did. No way we can eat all of this alone--”

“Don’t.” Hank cut him short. “You called her before we finished. The time doesn’t work out otherwise.” He exhaled quickly through his nose, realising he’d figured it out. “From the bathroom. You never made a mess in there at all.”

“Actually, I did.” He said to Hank, before turning to Janet. “Again… sorry, but yeah, the Mr Clean did the trick…” Back to Hank. “But yes, I called her from the bathroom.”

“Why?” He glowered.

“Because you’re my friend and I worry about you, and I figured if I was worried then Jan probably would be too.”

“I have been worried too, Hank.”

Hank stood sullen, before Ted broke the silence.

“Anyway, the food’s going cold. Can we eat and talk?” He pulled out a chair for himself.

* * * * *

The three sat eating and talking. Ted and Janet had been explaining their concerns to Hank, who mostly ate and listened.

“You get more and more obsessed on your work, and it’s a cycle, Hank. You start, then the obsession builds, then everything else comes second, then you miss your pills for a cycle because you’re so busy, then you decide your pills make it harder to do the work so you stop taking them, and then you become someone else. And someone who it’s very hard to live with, Hank.”

“Well, I finished now…” Hank justified.

“You finished?” Ted interrupted. “Wait, you actually finished. You ‘fixed everything’?”

“Yes. That’s what I was telling you before. I was up all night last night working, and I did it. I fixed everything.”

“What exactly do you mean, ‘fixed everything’?”

“The answer to everything. Poverty, hunger, shortage. Resource shortages. Probably greenhouse gas emissions too, with carbon trading probably even better than my nanite clouds to repair the upper atmosphere.”

“But… how?”

“Come look.” Hank said. The three got up from their table and walked to Hank’s lab.

Hank’s laboratory overwhelmed the complex, it was a brief walk through the living quarters and took up the vast bulk of the grounds. The trio were soon there, looking at Hank’s recent works.

“I worked all night, but finally I finished. The first four samples. Some testing is still required, but the mathematics checks out, Ted. And you know what it means when my math is sound…”

Hank put a helmet on and activated it.

“I took extra care with protecting my work, since Jan has been moving my stuff.” He said sullenly. Soon a slow moving stream of ants crawled out from a colony set in a transparent ant-farm wall and traversed the floor, going under a large set of shelves on the other side of the room.

“What in the name of..?”

“It’s the helmet. My own design.” Hank said, as if it were enough to explain what they were seeing.

“You can talk to ants?”

“Talk? No. Ants lives are not such that we could really comprehend. They communicate various basic commands via pheromones. Go here. Food. Predator. Rival colony. Dead to be removed…”

“Pheromones…” Ted muttered to himself, but apparently too loudly.

“Well, yes. But that would be too complex. We don’t understand scent that well as a species, Ted. What the helmet ACTUALLY does is tap into the electromagnetic wavelength that the ants sensors utilize and send messages to their major nerve center. Cut out the middleman. Forget scent, pheromones and chemical sensor readings. Straight to command.”

“So no, Ted. I can’t talk to ants. I command them. With the helmet.”

“This is amazing in and of itself, Hank!”

“Is it?” He asked, swivelling back in his chair again. “It has very limited practical use, I’d have thought. But it does come in handy when working with small tech… or hiding my recent work.”

The ants returned bringing back a test tube rack that barely fit under the shelves with three vials inside.

“There! She’s been touching my stuff again!” Hank cried. “What did I tell you! There’s supposed to be FOUR!”

“Me?! But how? I didn’t even know it was there.”

“I don’t think this was Jan, Hank. You just said it yourself before. You’ve been working all nighters, and Jan’s been leaving early for work. There wouldn’t have been any time between when you finished and she left.”

“But wh--”

“Lang.” Jan said, looking at Hank. “I know you’re not going to want to believe it Hank, but this has to have been Scott.”

“Who’s that?”

“We hire cleaners through Red Ant, but Hank likes to stick with people he knows. He met Scott and he always seemed like a very nice guy. But he did have a past. His background check did reveal a criminal record and he has served time for burglary.”

“Scott..?” Hank said glumly.

“Well, we probably can’t do anything about him right now, unless he’s at a Red Ant facility..?” Ted supposed, “No, the complex is a special separate assignment. We wouldn’t see him again until his next shift.”

“That’s what I thought. But what we can do is find out if what he stole is likely to work, or if it’s potentially dangerous. How exactly does it work, Hank?”

“The-- they’re a new particle I discovered, which are capable of traversing between dimensions and carting mass. Using these I should potentially be able to grow - or hypothetically shrink - different objects by increasing or decreasing the space within molecules and shunting missing or surplus matter across dimensional lines as required.”

“Hank… that sounds a lot like you’re telling me that you can grow and shrink virtually any object infinitely or infinitesimally” Ted said, rubbing his head, “--which I would tell you is impossible and insane if it weren’t for the fact that you had what you claim is the means to doing just that brought to you by ants that you can apparently talk to.”

“Comm--”

“‘Command’, yes Hank. I’ve got that. Thank you.”

“Well, I guess we have to test it on something. Any ideas?” Janet asked.

“I think we have to jump straight for the worst case scenario.” Said Ted. “Organic material. What if he uses it on himself? So who else says we get to making some bigass bacon? I’ll go get the plate…” Ted went back to the kitchen and left the husband and wife alone together.

Hank looked down at his shoes. “I’m sorry I blamed you for touching my stuff.”

“It’s more than that, Hank. You scare me when you get like that. I get scared because I don’t know what you’re going to do. I get scared because I don’t know if you could do something so bad that I wouldn’t love you anymore. And I get scared because of the thought that something could happen that might make me not love you anymore. I need you to take your medication. Everything else, we’ll be able to get though. But when you don’t, you get-- you wind up in places where I worry I can’t even reach you.”

“Ok. You’re right. I’ll-- I’ll make sure I take my meds. In fact--” Hank smiled. “In fact, I think I might start working on something, something that I think might be able to help me with keeping organised and on top of things like that...”

“Ok. Humongous ham, bigass bacon, prodigious prosciutto, Comin’ right up!” Ted said, as he returned with the plate of bacon.

“You already used ‘Bigass bacon’.”

“Well, I’m proud of that one…” Ted replied. “Now where do you want this?”

“I’ll have that.” Hank said, taking the plate and setting it down near a large device.

“This is a particle projector. It’s one of a few devices I created to infuse the particles into an object…” He said to Ted, pushing in a vial of his special particles, before sneaking Jan a worried look.

“‘A particle’… ‘The particles’. I think it’s about time we stopped pulling punches and name them what they are Hank. Pym Particles. After their discoverer. The alliteration alone makes it...”

“Scien--”

“‘Science is it’s own reward’. ‘We don’t get into science for the honours and naming rights, but to further the quality of’ blahblahblah I’ve heard you say it all before Hank. This may be the single most important discovery in human history. It may end hunger and poverty in our lifetime. So let’s stop mincing words and project those Pym Particles already, Hank!”

Hank Pym’s cheeks flushed a deep shade of red, and he shrank beneath the console, figuratively. He flicked the power switch and waited for it to warm up. A few seconds later a light on a button glowed green. It was ready for use.

“Wait…” Halted Ted. “This is the time, where somebody here should probably say something profound, and of significant weight to match the moment’s importance in scientific history… However I can think of no such words that could possibly be equal to the boon for mankind that is making bacon more plentiful.”

Jan smiled, but rolled her eyes.

Hank poked his blonde head around the console. “Can I go now?”

“Absolutely.”

* * * * *

T H E H O M E O F H A N K P Y M & J A N E T V A N D Y N E

---

^{Present Day, Midday | Manhattan, New York}

The bacon was indeed bigass. And preliminary testing was looking good so far. The bacon’s molecular structure appeared to by stable. Hank had said, there were theories out there where attempting to shrink or grow an object beyond its normal capabilities would likely render that object unstable and liable to explosion. But as he suspected the use of Pym Particles - a name he was still loathe to use himself, despite Ted’s continued pressing - seemed to prevent that instability. The theory being that similar matter that would make up the bacon was being diffused from across dimensional lines and had been infused in the now much larger bacon, allowing for its continued stability.

Or something like that. It was all very new to Ted and the science may as well have been magic, as far as Ted’s limited grasp of the new fields in particle physics that had just been birthed on this very day went.

“Should probably make sure he gets some sleep.” Ted suggested to Janet.

“I will.” She said. “I’ll let him at least set up his larger tests, and then I’ll tell him to get some sleep. Once there’s not so much for him to do but wait for the results. You know Hank…”

“Yeah. I know Hank.”

The two were sitting in the living room with the television on, whilst Hank was hard at work in his lab, running a full battery of tests.

“So, do you think Hank will be alright?”

“As alright as we both can expect.” Janet grinned. “Thanks for coming and doing this.”

“You know, if you’re ever need help like this, you BOTH have my details.” Ted replied.

“I know. I just-- Things like this feel like they should be our problem. I didn’t want to go dragging our friends in.”

“Well, if it makes you feel any better about any of this, consider me family, and drag me into this kind of stuff. Kicking and screaming like the annoying little brother if necessary.”

“OK. But you’ve no idea what you’re in for. How long are you in the city for?”

“Well, the Expo’s on tonight but-- Wait, is that Stark? Turn this up.”

Janet had the TV on an Entertainment News channel, Tony Stark was making a red carpet styled appearance, with jaw-droppingly stunning women on either shoulder, as he spoke to the interviewer looking debonair with perfectly manicured facial hair and wearing a full tuxedo.

“Are you kidding me?! He’s wearing a tux like it’s a Gala Ball to a goddamn Expo? Well, that’s that I suppose. I can’t pull of a tux at an Expo. At least I don’t have to worry about competing for style anymore, he’s blown me out of the water before I’ve even shown up.”

Jan turned to Ted. “Did I really just hear the C.E.O of Kord Omniversal say he couldn’t compete with Stark and was planning to give up without even trying? Ted, I’m stunned. What would your shareholders say?” She said, feigning shock. “Besides, you now happen to be family with one of the most stylish fashion designers and models in New York City, and therefore the world. And SHE is saying you absolutely could pull off a tux at an Expo!”

“Hey, that’s right! You are big in fashion, maybe you can help me!” Ted replied. “Can you find me three of your model friends who could blow those two he’s standing next to out of the water?”

Jan hit him. Repeatedly.

“No, you jackass. But what I can do is get you fitted for an even better tux and put you through to someone who can maybe do something about that hair.”

“So I’m not going to get a JVD original tux?”

“I can’t say I make too many tuxedos in high women’s fashion. But…” she turned around and grabbed her purse, flicking through the pockets for a specific business card. “...these guys DO owe me a favour, and they’re the best in town. They’d probably also take it as something of a challenge.”

“Oh come on, the hair wasn’t enough of a dig?!”

“I meant, to out-big Tony Stark on this kind of stage at late notice…”

“Yeah… nice save.”

“I thought so too.” Janet smirked. “I’ll measure you up here. You give them the figures, they’ll sort you out free of charge.”

“Wait, what?”

“Get up and spread ‘em.”

“You’re being very forward with new family members and I don’t know that I’m feeling very comfortable with this…” Ted laughed, and stayed seated.

“Or is it because you’re wearing the suit underneath?”

Ted sat slack-jawed.

“I’m in fashion, Ted. I can tell when someone’s wearing something thick under a business suit. It’s affecting the way it sits. Beyond which, you’ve flashed it through your sleeve a few times today already. Can I see it?”

“How did--?”

“I’ll level with you. It wasn’t all me, Ted. Hank actually noticed that Blue Beetle character in Boston was using your tech. He keeps an eye on the new products your company announces they’re working on out of interest. I just put the pieces together to get that it was you. I think it’s good, what you’re doing. Adventurous, bold, brave, whatever… honestly, it looks fun. So whip off your suit and let’s see it.”

“Hank knows?” Ted asked.

“He knows. He’s my husband. No secrets and all of that. But he’s the only one.”

Ted sighed, reluctantly flipped his tie over his shoulder and undid a few of his shirt buttons, revealing the Blue Beetle suit underneath.

“Oh you know how to tease a girl! Barely giving her a glimpse!”

Ted did his buttons back up, only offering a glare to her mock whoops of delight.

“Is there any chance at all I could be fitted for this tux without them knowing? Maybe we take the measurements here and I just pick it up from there?”

She pulled a tape measure from her purse, and her eyes flashed. “When I’m finished with you Ted, nobody's going to know a thing.”