Riverview IC Contact

[suckstobestrange]

INBOX text / audio / video / action [Stephen hasn't bothered to record a proper voicemail message, so enjoy the standard one. Because let's be real he has way too many Important Trashdoctor Things To Do to be worrying about which of you nerds know who's number they've phoned. You're smart, he has faith you can figure it out. Or something.] code credit

Comments

[ikols]

Yeah, I bet.

Er, anyway, so this box ... I'll bring it over. Where are you?

[suckstobestrange]

In the library. You can either come here or I can come to you, whichever's easier.

[ikols]

[ Wandering into the library soon after, Loki turns up in his hoodie from whose pocket he produces the cube to present to Stephen. Idly, he takes note of the section o the library they are in. ]

Inspect away, great gobbler of slime.

[suckstobestrange]

[Stephen's basically taken over a corner of the study area with a pile of medical books and journals, pen moving on it's own to jot notes down as he was reading. Gotta keep up on that kinda thing if he's going to do his job after all, right?

Loki's approach draws his attention and he just offers a faint smirk in response as the pen finishes it's sentence and drops onto the notebook while Stephen reaches to accept the cube.]

What have you noticed about it so far? And side-effects, music it seems unwilling to play along with, things like that?

[ikols]

[ Show off of a pen.

The stone artefact warms to different temperatures on each side under Stephen's touch, carvings heating up. Loki flicks through a book on surgical methods, wrinkling her nose. ]

It plays whatever song is in the head of its holder, never once failed to with me. That's after you open it up, though.

[suckstobestrange]

[He notes the shift in temperature as he handles the cube, turning to a fresh page in his notebook to let the pen get back to work, though this time marking down the carving designs on each side.]

I remember that bit. I also remember that you didn't show just how to open it up last time I saw this thing.

[It's generally considered a good idea to see everything you can about something without throwing more magic at it, just in case an artifact is a picky little shit about what sort it likes to be around. Sometimes, on occasion, Stephen goes with the sensible option.]

[ikols]

[ He leans over Stephen's shoulder to creep long black-nailed fingers over the carvings in a sequence smoothly unhurried but easy enough to miss if one isn't paying attention. ]

Now I've shown you. Aren't I doing well today? Sharing and hanging out ... We're Team Magic, Stephen, me and you. I bet that'd trend if hashtagged enough.

[ The box opens up to reveal a pearly viscous liquid inside. It doesn't fall out if the box tilts or upends, instead merely sloshing around prettily inside and glowing a pulsing blue.

Having seen it before, Loki spends his time tracing spines on the bookshelves. ]

You're the Master of the Musical Arts, think of a song. I suggest Metallica.

[ Whatever Stephen thinks of will emit from the box as an acoustic music-box version. ]

[suckstobestrange]

[Luckily Stephen is paying attention then. He lets out a chuckle at the comments, brows lifting slightly.]

I can't say I'm not alright with the results so far.

[Only practice at avoiding the 'don't think of this specific thing' has the box chiming out R.E.M's Losing My Religion instead, which just has the sorcerer huffing out a low noise of amusement.]

I wonder if there's anything it won't play. Like, a 'good taste' filter.

[Not a serious question but the idea of the artifact slamming shitty music tastes is kind of hilarious.]

[ikols]

Now that we are friends, Stephen, I will courteously do you the favour of pretending that wasn't shade being thrown at my taste in music.

[ He sits down in a nearby chair and props his heels on the table, a book on brain surgery open in his lap. ]

Try giving it to someone awful. Do we know anyone evil who might have 'death, famine, disaster' in lyric-form bouncing around their head? Worth a try.

[suckstobestrange]

I can think of more entertaining ways to mess with friends than insulting their musical choices.

[Once the music falls quiet he'll start probing the thing lightly with magic. Nothing big or flashy, just trying to figure out if this is really just a magic music box, or if it might be meant to go with something else to do a specific task.]

The one time I'm disappointed Mordo isn't around. I bet his music taste is terrible enough to trip a filter if there is one.

[ikols]

Or Dormammu.

[ While Stephen does his Magic Thing, Loki builds a brain out of light on his lap and starts to perform astral-surgery on it with his fingers, pulling out a feather, a key, and a tiny hammer. He's probably the best not-doctor around. ]

I know which type of music Victor likes, he re-wrote the lyrics. They played in his dungeon while I was there. Guess what it was?

[suckstobestrange]

But then he'd have to unclench long enough to enjoy something and I'm not even sure that's possible.

[As he spoke Stephen kept up his investigations, poking and prodding away. Really if he was left to his own devices he could play magic detective all day.]

...Somehow I'm not surprised Victor'd do something like that. Kinda surprised he's not a 'ostentatious orchestra' sort if we're being honest, it fits in with his whole melodrama thing.

[ikols]

[ Thoroughly enjoying Stephen's saltiness, Loki laughs. ]

No, no. All you need is Doom, Doom! Doom is all you need ... !

[suckstobestrange]

[That? That startles Stephen into laughter, the man just shaking his head as he leans back in his chair.]

Was he torturing his prisoners or trying to come onto them? I mean, I can't imagine 'self-obsessed megalomaniac who refers to themselves in the third person' gets a lot of attention on dating sites, but there's a level of desperation that you really can't come back from and that might just be it.

[ikols]

[ Poor Victor. He really just needs a hug and evidently to become the God of Golden Oldies. ]

It really disillusioned Verity as to the credibility, not to mention relative sanity, of supervillains. I had to profess my love for all things hipster and acoustic for a week!