( brenton thwaites, cis man, he/him ) — Look who it is! If you take a look at our database, you’ll find that THOMAS O’CONNELL is a THIRTY year old LAB TECH that’s been in Chicago for SIX YEARS. According to the file, they are (somewhat) against mutants. That must be why they’re INQUISITIVE and NERVOUS. If you ask me, they remind me of wire brimmed glasses with fingerprints on the lenses, open books strewn across a desk, the church like architecture of an ivy league library. They are affiliated with NO ONE.
Family: William O’Connell - Brother, Stanford O’Connell - Brother
APPEARANCE
Height: 6′0
Eye Color: Brown
Hair Color: Brown
Ethnicity: White
Nationality: American
Aesthetic:
Tattoos: None
Piercings: None
BACKGROUND
Thomas grew up as one of many children in a small house in a smaller town in Idaho. He was one of the youngest of the bunch, and much smaller than all of them in many ways. Not necessarily in stature, but in personality and attitude, yes. He was more likely to hide in his siblings’ shadows in the hopes of going unnoticed by most. Where the others had something that made them shine, Thomas only seemed dull.
He never minded being a background character in his family, though. It made it easier to focus on the things that did interest him: Learning. He loved to read and to study. Science, in particular, fascinated him to no end. Any chance he got, Thomas had his nose in a book, trying to wrap his head around a concept far from what his grasp should have been.
But, being so young, it was only a matter of time before there was no shadow to hide in anymore. The more his siblings grew up and moved away, the more attention that seemed to fall on him. The once self-sufficient, silent child, was now showered with all sorts of attention he didn’t know what to do with. It was no malice or anger towards anyone that he had seemed to go unnoticed for long. More than anything, it was just pure awkwardness over not knowing how to suddenly accept the attention and praise he was receiving.
Thomas did his best to humor the attention, even if he wasn’t very good at it, chugging along towards his goals of working in the medical field, continuing to study and learn more. But, the one thing Thomas could never understand? Mutants. They made no logical sense, and no book could explain their existence away. Realistically speaking, they shouldn’t be able to exist, and some extra chromosomes didn’t feel like a good enough explanation.
There were countless people through school who wanted to work at places like Kappa or with people like AMMO to get those answers, but Thomas was never drawn to groups like that. Their processes were far too cruel and confrontational for his tastes. While he wanted answers, kidnapping and torture never felt like the way to handle things like that. Secretly slipping straws out of drinking cups at the diner or offering a free screening here or there to run his own, private, tests were much more Thomas’s speed. It was still morally dubious, but a lot less overtly evil than what some of his counterparts were doing.
Thomas moved to Chicago after school, around Six years ago. It wasn’t long after his Brother, also a mutant, had moved there. And, it was in part because he knew his pool opened up more to run tests living in a big city like Chicago. Especially a big city where his Brother was basically making connections to a test pool for him. Whether he knew it or not.
The deadpan delivery only warms his heart—Will missed this, missed him. His baby brother all too smarter than he was, even rebuffing every attempt at affection, however misguidedly embarrassing it may be. He’ll take a step back, and he holds his hands up in surrender; he wasn’t good at convincing him back then, and pushing him on it now isn’t exactly what he wants to really do. “At work? I—” Well, a lot of them. But that’d just piss him off, maybe. ”Well, we’re pretty friendly, I think. Either that, or everyone talks about me behind my back.”
At the insistent reply on the date business, he laughs. Not meanly, but in a surprise. “Okay, okay. Jeez—you make it sound like I’m going to run you over with a truck!” He tucks the list of people that he thinks Tommy could vibe with in his back pocket, just in case his meddling instincts start to take over. “I swear, I won’t try to make you date my friends. Cross my heart.” But that really doesn’t mean that he can’t get his friends to sic their friends on Tommy!
“Alright, so if you’re going to come,” he says, smiling. “I’m going to just give you the address—it’s close, and you’re going to like the house! It’s half-done, and the furniture needs to be redone, but it feels like home! I hope you get to go. And hey, you might even get to meet your niece!”
~
Will was always good intentioned, to a fault if you were to ask Tom. No good could come from that kind of behavior, and Tom would die on that hill. But, there was no changing Will. That’s why there was only avoiding him for Tom. And it had been working well up until this moment. As per usual, Will waltzes back into his life, and makes himself the savior and the holy grail of O’Connell children, and Tom feels the need to fall back into his old role once again. “Right, so why do you need to be on me about being friends with my co-workers? That’s all I’m saying.”
“Look, don’t get too excited I mean you haven’t even— you need to set a date before I know if I can even come in the first place.” It was a weak lie seeing as he had just admitted to having no social life. But it all felt like a lot at once. Meeting his niece on top of it all? That sounded like the icing on top of an anxiety filled cake.
Tiffany giggles gently at his awkwardness; maybe he’s not pulling her leg. It’s a weird conversation opener to be sure, but it’s not like Tiff’s never said anything a little peculiar. “No, it’s okay. It’s funny. Isn’t it wild the stuff rich people will do to flash their status? Like you couldn’t pay me to drink that kind of coffee, but you act like it’s fancy and exclusive and people can’t wait to get their credit cards out all of the sudden.”
“It’s a real show of power, and nothing more.” It always had been, especially growing up one of several kids. He knew all too well that people flaunted wealth through branding and status. Labeled things for the rich and poor. It was all stupid at the end of the day. Shoes were shoes. Coffee was Coffee. And most coffee didn’t come from cats, and was very good. “People are boring like that, feeding into the cycle. Things that should be deemed disgusting or ‘low class’ become fancy and cool with a high enough price tag.”
At his brother’s comment, he laughs a little. Will understands that he doesn’t need to make an aside, but it still warms his heart as he talks about his pay as if anyone from that school would even give him a pay increase. The trials of the private school system is certainly something else, but at least he got a pay rise from the whole public school system he’d gone through when he was in that one bedroom apartment so long ago.
“Oh, stodgy old lab techs? Well, I mean—you talk to the maintenance people? Receptionists? Administration?” He should introduce him to some of his friends—Royal would get a kick out of him, Neese too! And maybe he could roll out the parents that he hangs out with, if there’s still trouble. Tommy’s a grown man, of course, but there’s still a part of Will that wants to take care of his baby brother.
He wants to be more involved, enough to make up for the time that he’d disappeared on them, but he’s afraid. The small fear in his chest of being left adrift again isn’t exactly unfounded. He’d learned that people could be cruel, in a small car and smaller motel—it took him a while to run to Chicago, but he couldn’t outrun his family. He didn’t even want to. “I mean, I could set you up or something. Get a party going, since I keep putting off my housewarming.”
~
“Will, really, I don’t need to be taught how to socialize.” That was at least half a lie. Tom had not taken well to the social butterfly skills that seemed to befit his brothers. But, he had other skills. Including the ability to fake those skills where it was necessary. And pretending to relate to all his coworkers, whether in the lab or otherwise, did not seem like energy well spent. “I talk to plenty of people at work. But, how many of your co-workers would you consider ‘good buddies’?”
With Tom’s luck? Will would probably try and convince him it was everyone. Though, he hoped that his point landed: Tom didn’t want to shove himself down the throats of everyone he came in contact with in a desperate attempt to earn a few friends.
“I do not need you to set me up on a date,” Tom deadpans. That sounds like torture in the highest degree. He’d rather befriend a co-worker. Still, he tries to give Will some give. He’s trying to help, and Tom’s just shutting him down left and right. “But, If you do have a housewarming party, I will attend. Just— don’t try to get me to date your friends, that would be odd for all parties involved.”
terry figures that even if the job was interesting at any point, thomas probably couldn’t talk about it. it’s the same reason that anyone in the room when… things happened… were also sworn to secrecy. err, privacy. it’s not exactly a secret about the circumstances, just the result. “i’ll be honest, that doesn’t surprise me. not a lot of people like to think about being poked with needles, even if it’s just asking about the guy who deals with it afterwards.” it helps that they don’t have to bother with it, anymore. and that they’re a lot less squeamish than they used to be. “what do you do to keep from being bored out of your mind?”
“Yeah, white blood cell counts are usually a niche topic of conversation.” Conversation and humor that only seems to resonate with his co-workers. It’s fine, though, Tom doesn’t need the approval of the world. Not on work as inconsequential as his. “I mean... not much. I enjoy to read in my spare time. Lean. I go to the gym to make up for the lack of movement I tend to get during work hours. I’m not much of a hobbies guy.”
“…caught?” that’s a worrying addition to this contract they’re working out. “am i not supposed to be there?” it’s true that in the months he’s been on the surface that fins has gone relatively unchallenged… but he also goes out of his way to give a wide berth to anyone seeming uncomfortable with his presence.
So, maybe letting him in on the fact that this was not at all sanctioned by his work was not the move. But the sark seems easy enough to be talked down with the right word choice. “Caught is maybe not the right word. It’s more like... you don’t want to be noticed. The tests we’re running are confidential. I just don’t want anyone asking questions about what... either one of us is doing there after hours.” Not a lie. He didn’t want to get caught, either.
if nothing else, at least this building sounds visually distinct. many of the others that tower above them seem to blend into each other, a vast canopy in varying shades of gray. he sees a lot of signs, even ones that are also the color read, but he doesn’t think any of them had a specific symbol like that. “usually? but not when i’ll be there, right?”
“A hospital in a city the size of Chicago is always busy with something. But you’ll be going to the building across the street which won’t be. So just... don’t get caught, I guess.” It should be a simple enough directive. The shark didn’t just appear one day. Clearly, he had done a decent job of going unnoticed by the vast majority of the public.
“pragmatic. good answer.” no doubt there are very few kids in the world that do dream of poking people with needles all day… or even just testing the biohazardous material afterwards. but someone’s gotta do it. “what do you test for, then? everything?”
“Anything the Doctor requires. Most often it’s just a basic full panel blood tests. You know, cholesterol, glucose, calcium— the works. Nothing too crazy has ever come across my desk.” Not that he could discuss it, anyway. Laws, and all that. “You’re probably the only person who has ever seemed genuinely curious about my job.” Other than his Brother, but he didn’t count that. Will always seemed to pity him.
Hearing someone speaking to her, she turns around, glancing at the ring he’s holding and then at her now bare finger. “Oh, thank you!” Hale says, giving him a grateful smile as she takes the ring from his palm. It’s one of her more expensive pieces of jewellery, so she’s thankful he’d spotted it and is kind enough to give it back. She slips it back onto her index finger. “Thanks for being honest and returning it. I would be upset if I lost it for good; I’d have had no chance of finding it on a bus this packed.” Why did her car have to be in the garage? Public transport is gross.
Tom’s not that surprised that his act of kindness is anything less than a shock, but it’s still unfortunate that this is the world they live in: Where simple acts of goodwill seem like something far more important than what they really are. “It’s not a problem. Good karma, and what not.” Tom didn’t particularly believe in the concept of karma or darma, but that wasn’t the point of the sentiment. The point was to be colloquial and relatable.
“blood tests? so you’re sitting there sticking people with needles all day?” not that terry has any real legs to stand on. post-celebrity career, all they’ve done is dig graves. cover them with more dirt when all is said and done… occasionally dig them back up when things are a bit more desperate. “you like doing that?” for now, they dodge the same question thrown their way. that’s a little more complicated.
“Well, no, someone else does that. I test it after they… you know, remove it from the person and send it off to have the tests run.” Not that he didn’t know how to draw blood, he did. But, it certainly wasn’t his dream in life. Then again, was his job in general? Did he even have an appropriate response to the question? “It… pays the bills. No little kid dreams of working in a windowless lab, testing people’s blood for a living, but it’s pragmatic.”
“…no, not usually. only a few of them.” there’s a reflex to apologize for this inability, but for the moment he keeps his mouth shut. it’s an embarrassment to him, and bewildering to most that he talks to. except thomas. “what does a hospital look like?” he asks, trying to picture at least the large, glass-laden building that he describes.
Tom does not verbalize a response, rather just nods. Because, what else is he going to say to that? Why would he know how to read? That would be a bigger shock than learning he couldn’t. And, it wasn’t like it was Tom’s job to do anything about his lack of education. “Well, it’s a big white building, with a red cross sign on it. A big awning over the front doors. Usually always busy.”
“ and a walking, talking dictionary. ” it was a damn good thing that ford had a long past as a writer, otherwise they’d be getting their phone out to double-check they knew the meaning of each descriptor tom used for himself. if tom were older – if it was more acceptable – ford may have tacked on ‘nerd’ ! were they proud of their youngest brother ? of all that he had accomplished ? yes ! did they also think there was an air of unrecognized arrogance that surrounded him ? also yes !
perhaps that was just how it went as the youngest brother. ford could recognize that they had a sense of self-importance, sure – if they didn’t, they wouldn’t be running the business that they were ! and they could trace it all back – largely ignored by mom & pop, carving their own unique way, blah-blah-blah – all the shit that therapy was for. but tom ? maybe it was because he had gone from being a subject of partial neglect ( never out of malice ) and condescension to the main subject of affection as all of his siblings left. whatever it was, ford wasn’t sure ! but it made sense ! it all made sense !
“ well… will’s will. ” if there was one thing they could agree on, ford was sure that it was ‘will’s will’ ! and they were also sure that it would be the same for each sibling in the group. will’s will, tom’s tom, ford’s ford – they all knew what it meant. “ so, do you… read books ? peer review the latest discovery ? go to the shelter and adopt every elderly dog ? – i’m just trying to get a picture here. ” anything they could bond over… anything…
~
Tom’s first instinct is to take off Ford’s head. Not for anything they say in particular, but because they think that this is how it works. They take off, they disconnect, and then they waltz back into his life and ask him if he has a dog. It shouldn’t upset him so much, he’s always been the most pragmatic of his brothers in his own opinion. And, realistically, he should want to connect with his brother, too. Nothing in life was that simple, though, and it was much easier to just keep picking at the skin calloused over on his thumb.
“Will is Will,” Tom agrees, halfheartedly. His gaze doesn’t quite meet Ford’s as he focus rather on the nothingness between them. What makes all of this worse is the fact that he’s easy to view as the same Brother that Ford has in his head. Dedicated and hardworking. The overachiever of the family. The one who was going to make it far, and make all sorts of money in some fancy science career. And now Tom has nothing to show for all those hours of work other than a lab coat he doesn’t wear in a Doctor’s office, and a degree that collects dust at the bottom of an extra storage bin.
“No, I’m just... existing. No dogs, no dates, no hobbies. I just go about my life, and go home.” Tom tries his hardest to make sure that doesn’t sound as pathetic as he’s sure it comes across. What was one man’s hell, was another man’s bliss. And, given the fact that he could hardly look at himself in the mirror some days, the mundane lifestyle was his sort of penance to the world for thinking he could out smart it. He was content in his boring, run down life.
“ hey – i’m not responsible for what people do and do not fall for. ” the majority of the attraction was a blatant lie, clear as day that half of it was just… superglue. they didn’t exactly have the money to start putting together more elaborate exhibits at first – it was all story-telling ! and some folksy kitsch for the kids. “ the hell do you think i’m gonna do, kid ? commit counterfeit under the name ‘thomas o’connell’ ? takes a real egoist to think he’s worth… committing counterfeit under the name of. ” their brother’s lack of faith in them was astounding ! and only somewhat justified !
contrary to popular belief, ford had never been fond of parties – not in their typical sense. while they did flourish in the presence of others, and while they were no stranger to chaos, they had never found them… interesting, really. a bunch of people get together to get drunk or high or whatever-the-hell, almost always planned at least a couple hours in advance ( usually more, seldom spontaneous ) – every connection made felt fabricated. but go to a bar to meet some strangers ? that made sense to them. real connection wasn’t planned, fun wasn’t planned, friends weren’t planned – it all was just meant to happen ! ( not to mention, the last big party they’d gone to ended in blows with discount vincent price… another good reason to steer clear ! )
– all to say that tom’s outlook on ford continued to be somewhat false and that they, perhaps, had more in common in the realm of forming connections than initially thought.
“ you don’t need parties to be social. hell, you don’t even need bars ! but, from the heart, ” ford began, pressing their palms to their chest, “ we want to make sure you’re living outside a world of numbers and data. ” was that actually why will was interested ? ford didn’t know, and it didn’t matter. “ i mean, would you really rather me ask you more ‘science’ questions ? ”
~
Legally, his point was sound. As long as Ford didn’t try to pass it off as actual scientific discoveries, he could claim some sort of entertainment value if ever facing the court. But, it doesn’t stop Tom from making sure he doesn’t get his name dragged through the mud in the process. His last name being associated with some con artists’ excuse for a side show exhibit would be bad enough, let alone if his Brother called on him to be so much as a character witness. Though, even Ford wouldn’t be that stupid.
“I am not egotistical, Ford. I’m pragmatic at best, pessimistic at worst. And, furthermore, ambivalent to how you choose to live your life as long as you don’t suck me into being a part of it.” Their life, their career choice— Ford could take that however they wanted to. There would be no love lost on Tom’s part. Well... there would be, but he could punch it down just as he did with most of his other feelings. But, that was not something he was going to be unpacking without a very large, very strong push. And, at this point, he had no one in his life willing to shove like that. For the best, he figures, if he starts to address it, his hold world would unravel, and no one wanted to pick up the pieces. Least of all Tom.
Pinching the bridge of his nose, he acquiesces. “No, I suppose I’d prefer to move on from science.” If he can even call their discussion scientific in nature in the first place. “Well, I do things other than work. But, it’s not like I’ve ever cared much for having some big circle of friends, unlike Will.”
Cat poop? Gross! “Okay, okay, I think you’re messing with me. I know I look naïve but I wasn’t born yesterday. There’s no way people pay that much for caffeinated cat poop.” It’s a funny joke, but Tiffany doesn’t believe it for a second. It would make a great episode for their podcast though, cryptid cats that produce potent and valuable coffee!
Tom’s eyes widen and he shakes his head. “No, no, I’m not creative enough to make up a lie like that, I promise.” Ford got all those skills. “It’s really a thing, you can look it up right now, I promise.” It sounded ridiculous, he knew that much, but Tom was anything but a liar. “I don’t even know why I brought this up in the first place,” He says with an awkward breath of a laugh, ‘I just, uh... well, I don’t know.”
“at least.” true enough as far as the storm is concerned, but their work to right its wrongs is a more laborious one. at least the towel helps. “suppose they’re worried about contaminants.” what little they know about lab work is… well, limited to what they had put them through upon revival. not exactly the average experience. “what kind of lab?”
“Oh, nothing too exciting. Just medical work. Blood tests, and the like.” Which was rightly considered boring by most. He was no hero doctor or surgeon, and certainly no one who had unhinged medical stories to share. His Brother was certainly being facetious about anyone having any interest in a job like that. “ What about you? What do you do for work?”
“i can see them if they’re big enough.” small details don’t work well with his eyes, particularly outside of the water. even then, he’s not on the level of the average person—the structure of his eye is just too different. but fins doesn’t know much about that… nor does he assume ignorance with regards to thomas’ question. why should he? “is it big?” he asks, trailing after him. “the building? maybe i can ask someone else, too. if i get lost.”
“And, when you can see them? Do you read them well?” He tries to avoid coming out with ‘can you read’ because it sounds far too accusatory. It’s not really like it would be his fault if he couldn’t, there was no way he attended public school. “Fairly large, yes. Lots of glass windows, and it’s just across the way from the hospital. It’s hard to miss.”
“$600 for a pound?” Tiffany repeats, horrified. That’s a truly unfahtomable expense. They are also intrigued, because they love learning fun new facts, and also are always excited to make new friends at coffee shops! “How come it’s so expensive? I can’t think of any reason for something you consume to be so expensive.” Like, not to be vulgar, but you literally just piss it out.
“It’s called Kopi luwak,” Tom starts, realizing as he starts to explain that this may not be the most ideal ice breaker, “It’s actually... well, it’s technically cat poop? But, it gets expensive because the cats get to pick what coffee cherries they want to eat from what the farmers harvest. So, it takes a lot of time and man power... and cat power.”
