We live in cities you'll never see onscreen

[harrisonwells]

WHO: Harrison Wells + various friends/acquaintances/frenemies/etc.
WHERE: Heropa 10, various
WHEN: Third week in May and onward
WHAT: Meetings and reunions and training and experiments
WARNINGS: Sarcasm, gratuitous science, maybe swearing, will update if content changes

Following the task of getting his increased hearing under control, Priority One for Harrison Wells has been finding a place he can work. He hasn't needed an office since before the singularity had opened breaches between his Earth and Earth-1, but now that he has a job as a writer for a science magazine, he's exploring his options.

Find him in the garage at Heropa 10, looking into turning that into a place he and Jesse can work, or in a coffee shop or diner, shutting out the ambient noise and bustle around him as he writes science articles for children.

Catch-all for Harrison for May! Closed starters in the comments, let me know at voxmyriad if you want one!

Comments

@quickgenius

[harrisonwells]

[It's been a week. An interesting week, to be sure, but a week he could have done without. Still, there have been some upsides. Finding Jesse has been the biggest one, of course, they're still together and still a team. She and Cisco had worked together to come up with sound-dampening tech for him, and Jesse herself had built a noise-canceling device to help him sleep without waking up every time the refrigerator switches on or a car thunders by.

Now it's his turn to help her. Those wings of hers will absolutely carry her weight, and he knows she has the instincts to use them. She still doesn't trust them, but he has a feeling he can help make learning to fly just a little easier. He's already forming a plan as he knocks at her door with a mug of coffee for her in his hand.]

Jesse, sweetie, morning. How would you like to fly today?

[quickgenius]

[Sleep has been… interesting. Trying to figure out how to sleep with her new set of appendages is just as frustrating as trying to learn how to control them. It’s hard to sleep on her side, now, and sleeping on her stomach is probably for the best, but it’s uncomfortable with the weight of her wings. With the way her wings hold in heat. She doesn’t even need a blanket.

Fortunately, she’s had projects to work on, so sleep hasn’t mattered as much. And it keeps her from thinking about her wings, so it helps there, too. Since her dad had made THAT point quite clearly. She just doesn’t quite know how not to think too much about them, yet.

She’s already up when her dad knocks on her door having showered and dressed. At least her bathroom is large enough that it can fit both herself and her wings inside; the shower, too. It had been sort of fascinating, watching the way the water beaded on the feathers, the first time.

She really misses having backs on her shirts, though. And sleeves.

Tugging on her shoes she opens the door with a smile. She’s both excited and terrified at the thought of flying. She knows she can; or knows she should be able to, rather, but the idea of trying scares her a little.]

Flying? Are you sure?

[Nervous? Oh yeah.]

[harrisonwells]

I'm pretty sure, yeah. I've been doing some thinking about it and we have been overlooking a significant environmental variable.

[He doesn't mind if she wants to latch on to him for the trip downstairs, her wings have been better behaved lately but they're still fairly large to navigate the staircase with. But once they're downstairs, he's going to be gently brushing her off so the wings reappear. Moving around with them will get her used to them, after all, and he won't always be there to provide a break.

He keeps talking the entire way downstairs and to the kitchen.]

We've been thinking about it from the perspective of what you can do. Right? Your wings will carry you, and you're strong enough that you won't get tired from the exertion, that much we can prove through calculation. But you still have human instincts that say you can't fly, and those— [He's grinning a little now, he has a plan, come outside with him.] Those, we can play around with a little. Survival, right? Self preservation. But.

[And this is the part he's been working on. Spreading out his right hand, he concentrates on the area about twenty feet in diameter from where Jesse is standing, and he pulls with this new ability he has, and he can feel it himself: the gravity is lessening. He feels lighter, he knows she'll feel it too, and he nods at the top of the house.]

I can do this. And I won't let you fall.

[quickgenius]

[She does, curling a hand around his wrist for the walk down the stairs, but he doesn’t have to brush her off, because as soon as they’re down she’s shifting her feet and letting go, her wings springing back into existence like they were never gone. She’s getting a little better at this.

A little.

She listens to him as they make their way to the kitchen, as she follows him outside. The way he’s grinning means he has a plan, and she’s curious. Really curious. Whatever it is, she has faith in her dad.

And she realizes what, exactly, that plan is when he stretches out his right hand and she feels the shift in gravity, feels herself grow lighter, and she laughs a little. It’s brilliant. Of course.

His words make her smile brightly, bouncing lightly on her toes.]

I know you won’t.

[She takes a deep breath, and her wings unfurl behind her, snapping out sharply to either side. She’s used to it, now, at least a little. She glances up at the roof, then back at her dad. Then she’s gathering herself…

And with a hesitant flap of her wings her feet are leaving the ground. It’s a little unsteady, a little wobbly, but she’s flying. She can’t help the little grin of delight, the sensation of actually flying, of actually being air born in anyway bypassing her nervousness.

She climbs higher, slowly growing a little more confident.]

[harrisonwells]

[Manipulating gravity is easier than he'd expected, but it still takes some concentration. He focuses on it as best he can while he watches as his little girl, for the very first time, takes flight. Every father has to know when to let his daughter fly, he thinks a little giddily as she gains height, buoyed up by the low gravity, but most of them don't mean that literally.

And then she's landing on the roof, and he lets his control slowly relax after she's steady up there.]

It looks good, sweetheart! Great start. How did that feel? Comfortable? Good? What can I do?

[It isn't until he's standing with his hands in his pockets, gravity back to a 1:1, that he realizes there's a little sweat beaded on his forehead.]

@systemize

[harrisonwells]

[Objectively, it's only been a few days of dealing with increased hearing, but it had felt like months since he'd had a good night's sleep. Things are looking up now. Cisco and Jesse's sound-dampening tech has been built cleverly into a pair of his glasses with only slightly thicker frames, and Harrison is finally able to work at the kitchen table without feeling the urge to turn off all the power to the house. It's so helpful to be in the company of geniuses.

If only his readers fell into that category. He's never written for an audience so drastically not of his peers before, and it's been slow going, but his first article is due at the end of the week—on the principles of gravity, amusingly—and he's doing his best to strike the right balance between accuracy and comprehension. In between glaring at the words on the screen and getting up to pace the house when he gets too restless. Occasionally he'll poke his empty coffee cup with a finger and reduce its relative gravity and float it up a few inches. Because apparently that's something he can do now.

That's where Cadel will find him when he gets back to Heropa 10. It's possible the mug won't survive Harrison's surprise.]

[systemize]

[ Cadel has not been spending terribly much time around his assigned housing. For one thing, it'd been empty for a while, which means when he's not there, no one notices or cares. He'd already combed the house as painstakingly as possible for bugs, and hadn't found any. Which doesn't mean they aren't there, but he's slowly feeling slightly less hunted as time goes on, and Cadel by this point feels safe enough to think that no one will count it as suspicious activity if a kid isn't around his house for extended periods of time.

Where he is instead is holed up in his bare bones apartment in Maurtia Falls, where there's more computer parts than furniture. That's not a sign of Cadel's mental health, that's just his hyper-focus on technology at work; he has been gradually accumulating more living materials as things arise, since he has regular income from working for Peter Kane. Thank God he'd arranged that. It's a huge source of relief and stability for Cadel. It's work he knows how to do, with the type of person he knows how to deal with, for all that Peter seems surprisingly ... almost kind, for his type.

Building a gravimeter is a new task and therefore a pleasantly occupying one. Cadel isn't hardware prone by temperament but that doesn't mean he's incapable of it, and it's nice to take a break from endless strings of code. He's been making good progress on it by the time he decides to visit the house again, and possibly clean it out of leftover possessions and move fully over to his apartment.

He's not expecting to find someone as he walks by the kitchen, hands clasping the straps of his backpack-- empty, to be filled with possessions-- as he stops short in the doorway.

Cadel blinks, trying to determine what he thinks of this. Possibly... nothing? He doesn't really know this man well enough to make a judgement of him yet. He's at least not intolerable. He clears his throat in interruption, finally, and says in his clear, angelic voice, ] I didn't realize you live here.

[harrisonwells]

[Harrison is already murmuring an absent, "Hi sweetie," as he assumes it's Jesse arriving back again, and the lilting voice does in fact startle him enough that the mug clunks back to the table, still intact but on its side. Luckily it had been empty. He picks it up and rights it before turning back and...who is that? He squints at Cadel for a moment before his memory catches up to where he's seen that face and heard that voice before.]

Cadel. Huh. I didn't realize you did. This is where they set us down. My daughter too.

[He nods at the kitchen door, and by extension the rest of the house.] I take it that's your room drawing so much power. I wondered. Well, welcome home.

[There isn't any 'where have you been all this time' or any of the other questions one might normally ask a child when he appears after a week of clearly not living at the house, but Cadel isn't his child. And he doesn't look like he's been living rough. It's probably fine.]

[systemize]

[ This is the sort of reaction Cadel expects, actually, from an adult on his intelligence level. It's a relief; he knows how to deal with this sort of self-absorbed person, as he judges him. He's certainly not about to explain his apartment unless forced to.

Cadel steps into the kitchen after a moment, deciding consciously to engage. He has a disorienting moment of the Piggotts welcoming him home after school... It's a bad association, and he has to shake it. ]

Thanks. I didn't know your daughter was here, either. Were you practicing your gravity manipulation? [ He'd spotted the knocked over coffee mug. ]

[harrisonwells]

I was. [He rights it, then touches it again with a finger and concentrates. Inside the ceramic, he can feel the way the object density sits against the pull of gravity, and he's found the way to decrease the impact that pull has. Lessen it enough and he can cancel it out entirely, and the mug floats up again, just an inch or so, before he sets it back down.]

More useful than increasing the press of gravity on something, but I assume I can do that too. I want to test the limits in both directions. That's where the gravimeter will come in, if you're still planning on putting that together. Are you using the garage, by the way?

@infomodder

[harrisonwells]

[As promised, Will had let Harrison know when he was back in the country, and where his store was, and Harrison agreed to stop by and see what Will's shadow-stag could do. For Science, of course. He's looking forward to it, it had been refreshing to talk to someone who wasn't from home, someone uninvolved in the hard sciences but still an interesting person.

When he rounds the corner to the street, he slows to a surprised stop. That storefront looks a great deal more, well, devastated than expected, but it's probably the right one. Unless there's more than one store in this area frequented by a shadow-stag that appears to be transporting broken rubble to a pile in the gutter.

For a moment he actually considers asking it where he can find Will, but he dismisses that as...well, he just dismisses it, and instead he follows it warily back to the broken window and peers inside.]

Ah. Will?

[infomodder]

[The shadow-stag has a duty here. Antlers deposit a load of destroyed rubbish and it's only due to the fact the feathered creature has to turn to head back it even notices anyone approaching. The actual Doctor Wells will find himself stared at momentarily, inky black eyes blinking twice before head tilts and ears swivel. An almost familiar sort of look, and then it's back to business. The stag has no problem being followed. That's what it was born for, after all, long ago and a world away. So there's no wariness to be found; the stag simply lifts its hooves and steps through said broken window for another haul.

When Harrison looks in, he'll find Will seemingly ignorant of the giant shadow beast watching him, too busy bundling up another load of rubbish...until he hears his name. An almost comical moment ensues wherein Will and the stag both look up and over, Will's eyebrow raising the same time those ears swivel again. Oh goodness, he's been caught rolling up trash, how terrible.]

Hello, Doctor. [An address he is intimately familiar with, that. Will pushes away from the slowly dwindling destruction and extends a hand once close enough.] Sorry about the mess. It's been a process. You find it all right?

[harrisonwells]

I did. I assume it doesn't normally look like this, what happened?

[And then, ah. Right. Handshakes are proving...more troublesome here. There's a momentary pause as he looks at Will's hand, then at the stag. He's still getting the hang of all this, but so far, everyone he touches loses whatever abilities they have, for as long as the contact lasts, which means whatever that is will disappear, and presumably the load of rubble it's patiently collecting will crash back to the floor. Another comical moment, maybe, and it'll come back, but...

His fingers flex and he almost reaches out—it's only a brief outage, after all, when someone touches him—but then he pulls his hand back.] I don't mean to be rude. Whatever it is you can do, a handshake will press pause on it.

[infomodder]

[He's about to answer when he hears the clatter of trash on the floor, when he looks back to see what happened and finds...nothing. The next course of action is to look down where his shadow has immediately reattached itself to his feet, cast in the proper direction with no show of antlers, nothing at all out of the ordinary with it. He's so taken aback his shadow stays there, doesn't try to reappear. He's been sufficiently Thrown For A Loop and it shows.

The explanation makes him glad he's looking down. Having the power to take power from others, to render others powerless, is one Will is all too intimately acquainted with. Hannibal hadn't needed anything but his mind and keen eye to know how people would or would not react, to play like fiddles. In the "right" hands, this power could serve a great purpose. In the "wrong" hands, it could serve the great purpose known as whatever the hell its owner wanted. He hasn't a clue yet which sort this new Doctor Wells is, and he's torn between feeling unsettled and overwhelmingly curious to find out on his own.

He stares at his shadow and finally lets out a short, mirthless huff of air, the thing that tries to be a laugh but never really makes it out. Then it's Will's turn to move back slightly, eyes now on Harrison's shadow while his hand remains completely still by his side.]

It's all right. There was a fight while April and I were on vacation. Came back to it like this. Only a matter of time—two years without real incident is pushing the limit around here. [He points to Harrison's shadow, lifting his eyes back up.] Wanna see yours?

[harrisonwells]

[He's mentioned the gravity manipulation ability the most often, as the one he needs the most training with, and with irritation he's mentioned his increased hearing—regulated more efficiently now by the glasses Cisco and his daughter had put together, with sound dampening tech in the frames—but the power nullification has seemed like...something he ought to keep under wraps, for the time being. He still isn't sure what he'll be using it for, but he knows keeping something like that in his back pocket might give him an advantage.

Of course, it does mean he has to explain things like handshakes. Luckily he's never been a very physically demonstrative person. But the question distracts him from asking if Will needs a hand clearing things up.]

See my...what? [He glances down at his own shadow, puzzled.] My shadow? What about it?

@heliophilic

[harrisonwells]

[Now that Jesse and Cisco have solved the increased hearing problem, at least temporarily, Harrison is faced with the reality: he needs to start training his gravity manipulation powers. And he does know someone who's offered to help, although whether or not he'll be grateful for it remains to be seen.

Still, he's curious to find out what it is he could do with these powers. Based on a few of the conversations he's had over the network and the ideas some people had given him, he has a feeling that for once, he's been thinking small. And he'd promised to call, and it's been almost a week. He can't put off calling for much longer.

Or texting, texting is close enough, right?]

M, this is Harrison. I can free up my schedule if you're still interested in working with me to train these new abilities of mine.

[heliophilic]

Well well Doctor Science. And here I was thinking I was going to be ghosted.

Silly me.

Well, if you can find time in your impossibly busy schedule for me, I'm certain I can do the same. When do you want to meet?

[harrisonwells]

This afternoon. I can come to you if that's easier.

[Is this going to be a trial? This is going to be a trial. But it's going to be worth it to start getting a handle on what he can do, and the sooner he can start exploring what applications his abilities have, the better. It's never a good idea for him to get too much downtime. There's a lot to think about, in downtime.]

[heliophilic]

I doubt you could find me. I'm not exactly listed.

Name a time and a place and I'll be there.

[harrisonwells]

Cryptic. Heropa 10, today at 2.

[Yes, he's doing this at home. It's easier. Besides, the gravimeter Cadel has knocked together has made it easier for him to at least get a sense of what it feels like to increase or decrease gravity by X amounts. He'd been surprised to find how easily he could track it. That's something to practice. But now he's looking at what other applications his powers might have, and what he can do to train them up beyond giving his daughter an easier time when she's practicing using her wings.

He seems to have a pretty controllable range anyway. It shouldn't be a problem to keep things contained.]

diner

[hsalf]

[He's innocent. Honest.

While he lived in De Chima now, there was always a particular diner out in Heropa that he enjoyed going to during his lunch hours. They cooked a good burger, the fries were crisp and salted, and the milkshakes fresh and thick. So even though he longer lives or works in Heropa, he still plans on coming to this particular diner. It's the first time he's been here since his return at that.

When he comes to the front counter and asks to be seated, the hostess gives him a funny look. She tells him that she just seated him and points to the table - only to go pale when she realizes that he is exactly where she left him. Well. "Him" anyway. Eobard immediately knows what the situation is and he just turns her attention back with an easy and gentle excuse: twin brothers. Good enough to get her straightened out, but he suspects she knows that they're imPorts and it's some kind of bizarre imPort thing.

Regardless, he strides past her and makes his way to the table like a ghost. Bad thing Harrison is distracted by his article writing, because Eobard will just slide into the booth seat across from his at the table. No warning, no request. He takes what he wants. He won't even say anything, knowing the sound of his sitting should rouse some sound.]

[harrisonwells]

[Patently a lie. Two lies.

If Harrison still had his too-sharp hearing set at full, he might not have been surprised. But bless Cisco and Jesse, they've given him a pair of glasses with slightly thicker frames crammed with sound-dampening tech that brings his hearing back to a normal level. After the intensity of the first few days, it almost feels like he can hear less than he had before arriving here, but it does make concentration much easier.

Unfortunately, it also makes it easier for Eobard to join him without Harrison realizing until it's too late to head him off. He finishes typing a word and glances up, then sits up sharply, face going hard and icy. Automatically, he pulls off his glasses and almost, almost flinches at the return of the waves of sound, but he's learning it lets him catch a lot of vocal nuances. That seems like a good idea.]

What. I'm working.

[Maybe his wishful thinking will actually work and Eobard will take him at his word and just go away again.]

[hsalf]

[It is wishful thinking. Eobard only smiles a little, doing his best to contain a laugh at the excuse.]

Working? On what... those articles for your job? You write for children publications. Doubt you need that much brain power to do it.

[Not even 1/4th of his brain power, more like 1/8th of it. Harrison Wells is a genius and he's sure the man has written his fair share of research articles for scientific journals. Writing articles with a child audience in mind? Nothing. It's a waste to make him do this job, and Eobard is glad that he didn't get saddled with it.

He leans into the seat and picks up the plastic menu, lazily holding it in his hand. He already knows what he wants to eat, but he's a bit peckish. Maybe a milkshake will be nice too.]

Relax. This happens to be one of my favorite diners in this world. I didn't expect you to be here, but there's no harm in us sharing a table. Makes it easier for the wait staff.

[harrisonwells]

[They have the same taste in diners. That's annoying. He wonders briefly if that's from the remnants of the murdered Harrison Wells that are still floating around inside Eobard Thawne's psyche, or if they would have had the same taste regardless. Not that it matters. He's here, and he's clearly not leaving.

With a few too-firm keystrokes, he saves his progress and slams the laptop closed. It's more difficult than he'd expected to write at a child's level of understanding, Jesse had never needed things explained in simpler terms and he's trying to remember how to do it, but Eobard certainly doesn't need to do that.]

I doubt relaxing will be part of it. I saw your attempt to clear everything up. Considerate of you.

["What's the catch" is plain as day. He'd also caught the subsequent conversation with Jesse, and had almost broken in, but he'd held himself back. She can handle herself, especially these days, and he'd made her a promise that he wouldn't jump in to defend her.]

[hsalf]

[He watches Harrison with intrigue, eyes constantly focused on the man as he goes through the motions of saving and slamming the laptop close with a restrained grin. It's...curious, how this feels akin to an out of body experience. Never has he permitted himself to be lost to "Harrison Wells" throughout the years. He took that identity to survive, not out of a desire to be the man. If he could accomplish what he had to while remaining purely Eobard Thawne, he would have done so. So he always worked to keep "Harrison Wells" and "Eobard Thawne" separate.

Now he watches Harrison Wells, and he can't help but feel a draw. He never knew much about the man, past the research that stood the test of time. He watched a man and his wife for a day before killing them both. A day is nothing in the vast span of time. He wants to learn more...but the reason why still alludes him.]

I did it for you. [He admits with a twitch in his grin and a raise of his eyebrows.] If you weren't here, I wouldn't have any reason to relinquish that identity. Thought it would be best to save everyone the trouble of mistaking us constantly. It would only be amusing for a short length of time.

[Truthfully he would find it funny for them to be constantly mistaken. It would come from ignorant minds who couldn't see the clear difference. But, it would grow tiresome eventually. He has better things to do than grate on a man's nerves with such a petty thing.

But he catches the tone in Harrison's voice and lets his smile relax into something less mirthful.]

You don't owe me anything for it. Other than not walking out the door of the diner right now.