Hank McCoy hummed to himself as he worked in the lab, Beethoven playing quietly in the background with the help of his own custom-built iProduct. A modest space about the size of a three-car garage (with a few adjacent rooms to hold the larger and more elaborate pieces of equipment) the lab under the X-Manor had been key in unlocking many of the universe's greatest secrets and was Hank's second home, as evidenced by the organized mess he often left on the counters, and a few empty Twinkie wrappers here and there. When he wasn't gallivanting halfway across the world, universe or some alternate dimension with the rest of the X-Men, the majority of his spare time was spent here, furthering his experiments in the name of science! Or just plain curiosity.
Broad-shouldered, blue-furred, and gifted with hands and feet the size of Christmas hams, Hank was not your typical genius-level scientist. But while his physical features were all a result of his particular X-gene mutation, he had learned to use them rather than let them impede him. Currently hanging upside down from an overhead bar by his opposable toes (he felt that the inverted blood flow helped him think more clearly), the bestial-featured mutant carefully metered out a few drops of chemical to the solution in his large, dexterous fingers. "Easy does it now," he murmured to himself. "Just a few drops, nothing to excite the chemical reaction before we're ready..."
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