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Akiva has Poindexter on standby as he does his injection. Every three days, like clockwork. The port installed at the base of his neck allows for easy access to his spinal tissue. The injections keep his brain chemistry stable and allow him to maintain his abilities without deterioration.
He places the needle aside, having accustomed himself to doing them himself, often in lonely hotel rooms overlooking strange cities. Anywhere one of the Reich's finest might try to hide themselves away from justice.
He glances up at the scientist. They were new acquaintances, but he preferred her straightforward manner to the false faces many wore. "I will give you the formula so that you can manufacture my serum on-site. I could get it shipped from home, but it wouldn't hurt to have some on-hand. Just in case."
*
*
The gloves were snapped on as her fingers wriggle briefly, drawing around the table so that she could inspect the port at the back of his neck. She uses a stool to do this, her fingers pressing lightly against his skin, a cotton ball taken with alcohol to clean any liquid left behind.
"This was something that should have been taken care of as soon as you accepted your employment with this facility." She dabs a little, then begins to feel around the lymph nodes of his neck. Her words were crisp, slightly scolding.. "I require those yesterday. Tilt your head up."
*
Akiva does as he's asked. "The formula was created by my mother. She's proprietary about such matters. But, given the often unstable state of things in Israel, I reminded her that her ability to ship things internationally could be endangered at any time," he says.
"Do not worry, I brought sufficient supply with me to last for several months. My brain won't begin to boil on your watch."
*
Fingers prod and press, Ann frowning just a touch as she takes ahold of his cheeks to push his head to the left. And then to the right. Fingers often prod and pry along his scalp, then hands withdrawing and snapping off the gloves with a quick motion. "That does not matter." Poindexter comments.
"Your brain may not boil but there is a chance that you may need modification. And if you need modification then the previous notes would be requested and/or desired." The gloves were tossed into the bin as she circles around him, her fingers pressing against the skin beneath his eyes, tilting his chin downward so that she could inspect him. "Look to the left, then right. And then up."
*
Akiva does as instructed. He was a physician himself, of course, and perfectly aware of the state of his own health. But, in their short acquaintance, he'd also determined that Ann wasn't likely to respond particularly well to being shrugged off. Nor did it particularly bother him anyway - he'd been under the treatment of much less gentle doctors than she.
"It is a matter of trust. She does not fully approve, I think, of my being here. It is a way for her to be stubborn and try to pressure me into coming home. But I will continue to ask."
*
There was a little cheeky smile given as she finally steps away from him, her clipboard taken up as she begins to write down her findings.
"A matter of trust or not." Annamena murmurs. "I am also a scientist. I shall forward you my credentials and track record for her viewing."
*
Akiva nods, "I don't think it's so much you personally as your employers. She has little trust for goyim in general and Americans in specific," he says. "She blames them for being late to the party during the war, I think. But she blames a lot of people for a lot of things."
"As a physician myself, if you ever have any need of my assistance, let me know. I am also accredited in psychiatry."
*
"Which.. is offhandedly related to me." Annamena states. "But it also seems that she has little trust for you to care for your own well being to not give you said formulas. But it's no matter. I will wait for her approval. Or not." Once she was finished writing, she pushes the tablet aside to give the man a slight look. A look that was almost distrustful, he may or may not have been looking through her personal files.
"I'll.. keep that in mind." She uncomfortably states.
*
Akiva hasn't been looking through her personal files. He might get around to it, eventually, but only if he began to suspect anyone of being a double agent. For all that he was a smart man, he could be incurious at times, only caring about people if they interested in particular. "In my case, less a matter of trust and more likely keeping me somewhat dependent on her. I could have the formula, I'm sure, if I asked, but my asking would be seen as an attempt to take something away from her. I understand. She lost three of her five children, not to mention her husband, her parents, most of her friends. Some of them were turned in by people she thought of as friends and colleagues," he says, pushing up off the table and going to pour himself a glass of water from a nearby pitcher.
"I did not mean psychiatry for yourself. I meant a psychiatric consult. I would be happy to listen if you were to need such, but I was making no insinuation," he says.
*
"You're a bit old for that." She moves towards her file cabinet, opening the draw to put her files away. It was awkward, really. Holding a conversation with someone she barely knew, and mostly because she didn't know what to talk about. But.. she just goes for it.
"My recent sensitivities training suggests that I need to be more friendly with people. But then that would also imply that I had friends to be friendly with." Her eye twitches faintly, an all too unusual smile drawing upon her lips, her perfectly lined pearly whites show an attempt at happiness.
"With that said, I'd like for you to join me in having lunch, and coffee in the cafeteria."
*
Akiva nods, "Yes, I am. But, for five years, she thought I was dead. I do not think I am in a position to judge her for what she has been through. She had to become a very tough - and very dangerous - woman. And still only managed to save two of her children," he sighs.
He looks up at the smile and nods, "Coffee would be pleasant indeed," he says, re-knotting his tie carefully with a few precise strokes. It's easy to see the difference in the man - every movement measured, conscious. Never sloppy. Never unthinking. "Do you want friends?"
*
"Most certainly, you nor I are not in the position to judge but it is the facts." She says.. matter of factly. "Though I cannot advise or tell her what to do if we've never met." Her brows furrow slightly. "Not that I wish to meet your parents.." Awwwkwaaard..
Though to the question of her having friends, she clears her throat, her fingers lacing within her coat to fix for a brief moment, moving to settle down upon the stool that was nearby as she really puts thought to that question.
"I suppose friends would possibly keep me entertained with the dalliances of life.." She muses faintly, but the smile that she puts on is fake as all get out. And obscenely wide. Her eyes remain vacant, near cold just for those few seconds until they both join into the joy that her lips make.
"So yes. Friends would be most appreciated."
*
Akiva flicks the last bits of dust from his cuffs, "Friends can be worthwhile. They inhabit the hours beyond labor, as you say. And they can prove useful resources to call upon in times of trouble," he says. "But I've never had many myself. I have been far too transient in my life. And my childhood did not permit the making of friendships to carry into adulthood. That seems to be where many people find their closest friends."
He can read the strange falsehood in her behavior, but it does not concern him. It interests him, yes, because he is fascinated by the human mind. "Do you have many dalliances, then?"
*
"Mmmh." Poindexter grunts quietly as the smile naturally fades, her body soon turning around towards the desk to retrieve another file which was drawn out and placed upon the table top. She flips the page, still listening of course, but something brought her back to that singular file to re-read again.
"No." She confesses. "I've only my books and my work. It was suggested that I find certain activities that would ensure my happiness and to keep my general upset at bay. Though, it is said that physical exertion promotes the 'feel good' endorphins as well as activities that stimulate ones mind." Her lips twist faintly. "I've recently been put to task to capture a mutant to return him to this facility to offer him a job. I do not know how kindly he would take to this. He is a very angry man."
*
Akiva considers, "Physical exertion? I would suggest taking up martial arts, sports or sex, in that case, although not necessarily in that order," he says.
"You'll excuse me, you don't seem to be particularly well-suited to capture an angry mutant, unless his powers are absolutely benign," he adds. "Danger is a part of the work, of course, but you don't strike me as a field agent."
*
"I'm personally not enthralled with the idea of competitive sports. Martial arts seems like a highly likely thing. Sex?" Ann's face scrunches slightly, her head shaking as she turns to begin to jot down a few key notes into the file. It was soon closed, and put away just like the rest.
"Certainly not. One as aggressive and angry as such should be very easy to quell, however. He strikes me as a man who shares the same potential and capacity of anger that I suffer with. So a simple conversation and a gentle prying would help. If not, I could certainly take one of the agents with me in case things go awry."
She sniffs faintly. "Yes. About that coffee. I believe we should set a date?"
*
Akiva considers the petite woman for a moment, cocking his head, "You are a peculiar individual. I am sure you know that," he says. "For the moment, I have a free calendar, until the Director decides what precisely she wishes to do with me. When do you prefer coffee? Evenings? Afternoons? First thing in the morning?" he says.
He makes no offer to help with the mutant. If she wishes his help, she will ask for it.
*
His statement about her being peculiar actually lightens her up and makes her laugh. It was a genuine one, and this smile wasn't faked or forced, though her hand does smack against her knee as she whips around to pick up her calendar.
"Lets see." She flips through the pages, which were hard marked with a very elaborate schedule, her lips twisting ever so slightly as she finally drops it down upon the table to weigh her options.
"I suppose coffee in the evenings would sour my sleep patterns." She smacks her lips briefly. "I do prefer evenings as most people are asleep in bed. But then that means that we should partake in dinner and not just coffee. Though if you would like, we could have coffee in the morning time as well, after the dinner date and we've had our required rest."
She thinks about this now, her gaze tilted towards the ceiling. "I think .. I should be mindful of spending too much time with someone I am attempting to be friends with. Perhaps dinner first. Then coffee in .. three days time in the morning. And after that, we shall see what activities lay around New York that we can indulge in off hours."
*
Akiva nods, "Just so," he says. "I will be pleased to have a local to guide me around the place. I have visited before, but never in great depth. The city is as vast as any I've ever encountered, with only London as its rival," he says. "Slowly, we become as ants, building ever greater hills in which to scurry."
"All of that sounds agreeable to me. What manner of dinner would you prefer? I confess, again, to having little knowledge of the restaurants. I'm aware of something called the Carnegie Deli, which the local rabbi instructed me to try, but I do not think that's a likely destination for dinner with a young lady."
*
There was Poindexter digging around in her desk again, pen tucked into her mouth as she listens to him, her glasses soon pushed up to rest atop of her head as she flips open an empty book, snatches the pen from her teeth, clicks the top and begins to write.
"It really depends. I am kindly to think that dinner anywhere is fine. However, I am going to draw up an itenerary." She begins to write then, murmuring quietly. "Carnegie Deli." That was the first stop. "What should be our manner of dress?"
*
Akiva considers, "I essentially always dress as I am now, unless in the field where specific garments are required. I have no expectations. So long as we meet the dress code of the place we eat, we should be fine. I don't believe the deli has one," he says.
"If we do go to Carnegie, be prepared for old Jewish men to flirt with you in a shameless fashion."
*
Ann turns to stare at Akiva, taking him in from top to bottom, and then top again as she turns to scribble something on her notepad. "Mmhmm. I'll match your manner of dress."
"Alright. I will be prepared. I do have a bit of work to get back to, but by nine o'clock tonight I should be ready for our date. I will also have the entire itnerary mapped out so that we can see the city in optimal times." She smiles then, and turns away from him, her head lowered as she continues to write.
She was officially done with the conversation.
"Oh. And goodday."