1693/A Garage In Harlem

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A Garage In Harlem
Date of Scene: 27 July 2017
Location: West Harlem - Mercy's Garage
Synopsis: Melinda May of SHIELD visits Mercy Thompson to see what's going on with the Winter Soldier. Spoiler Alert: Winter Soldier is just mean.
Cast of Characters: Mercy Thompson, Melinda May
Tinyplot: Tayaniye


Mercy Thompson has posed:
Mercy's Garage.

While it's currently closed for business, as the work day has been ended, the side entrance is still up and open. With the actual garage door open it's easy for anyone to get a glimpse inside of the actual garage itself. There's the typical sorts of things one might see within a garage; a car lift, machinery, tools and work benches.

Currently, the owner of the shop is settled at a work bench, her gaze focused upon the tabletop that's littered with a variety of small metallic boxy-contraptions. The one that she's just finished closing up is set right-side up and with a quick touch to the pressure plate, Mercy tests out the charge. The middle of the mine fizzles with electricity, audible to even un-augmented ears, thanks to the current that's flowing through it. "Well, hopefully we'll have some place to bury you guys - otherwise we might end up chucking you all there." And while there's definite humor in the mechanic's voice it's definitely of the more sardonic kind.

Melinda May has posed:
It's too ingrained into May to NOT move about quietly. Thus she steps through the still open entrance more quietly than that contraption's electric crackle. She watches the woman for a moment from just inside the entrance, then finally speaks up.

"Mercy Thompson."

Mercy Thompson has posed:
Normally Mercy Thompson would have heard Agent May approach; quiet steps or not.

This evening, however, is different. It's a combination of the other woman's quiet steps and the little electric crackle from her improvised taser mine. It's just enough noise to cover the SHIELD agent's steps to her garage and then inside.

But, that doesn't stop Mercy's other heightened senses from helping her in this situation. Namely her sense of smell. At about the same time May states her name, Mercy's nose tells her a stranger is within the garage. That causes the coyote to automatically tense, her shoulders ratcheting upward slightly, as the coyote pivots upon heel. While most non-combatants don't necessarily turn to face another person aggressively, Mercy's about-face is. Like she's ready to run or fight if she needs to. Let's blame it on too many unknown people walking through her garage lately and the added stress of the Winter Soldier.

When her gaze lands upon the SHIELD agent, her expression evens out slightly, though there's still a slight note of wariness there, "I am. And you are?" Mercy asks, even as she now sets the contraption in her hand aside.

Melinda May has posed:
"May." She's dressed simply in dark colors, though the jacket seems a bit excessive for late July. "We might have an ... acquaintance in common." She hasn't stepped any further into the garage, and at the way the younger-looking woman turned in reaction, she actually appears more at ease than before. Underlying the not-quite leather smell of the jacket is the faint tang of metal, a suggestion of gunpowder, and a tiny hint of silk.

Mercy Thompson has posed:
"Nice to meet you, May." Begins the coyote, even as she watches the other woman across the garage. The scent of metal, gunpowder and silk is noted. That metal and gunpowder is easy enough for Mercy to put together. She's either carrying a weapon, or recently has.

While she doesn't say anything about weaponry, wariness still lingers within her gaze, her movements, as she listens to what the other woman has to say. Her words, however, allow Mercy to offer a faintly crooked smile which quirks a corner of her mouth upward. "And who is this acquaintance we might have in common?" Mercy asks, even as the coyote continues with, "I seem to be making new friends left and right these days so a name would help."

And just like that, Mercy will motion for the woman to step further inside, "Please, come on in. Don't mind the mess."

Melinda May has posed:
May does take a few steps further into the garage, though not right up into Mercy's personal space. "A man with a metal arm." She watches the woman for her reaction to the descriptor of the common acquaintance. If she seems to genuinely not pick up on the reference, May will know. She's nowhere near as good at picking up on lies as Natasha, but she's no slouch.

Mercy Thompson has posed:
A man with a metal arm.

That's enough to cause all those little extra movements that people do while they speak with another person to pause. The only hint of movement from the coyote is the flare of nostrils, as the woman inhales sharply. Both for May's scent to see what emotional clues might be found within, but also from whatever feelings that descriptor of the Winter Soldier evokes in Mercy Thompson.

It's pretty clear Mercy knows who May is speaking about. "Then yes, we have that friend in common." Mercy manages after a few more seconds pass and now worry, versus wariness, now enters her gaze. "Has something happened that I should know of? Or did you need something fixed, built or repaired?" A hand motions to her garage as a whole, "It's what we've been using my garage for. Repairs, builds, planning -"

Melinda May has posed:
May's scent is surprisingly neutral. Or, unsurprised and perhaps a bit resigned. Though with the more in-depth scenting, more little surface details emerge: Chinese black tea, high-tensile plastics, and... something that invokes a sensation of venom?

"Nothing has happened that I'm aware of, but our mutual acquaintenance has recently been in the presence of another friend of mine that I've been trying to locate for the past several days." She's being intentionally vague, though she's getting the impression that she won't need to do so for much longer. "His brother will be worried when he finds out." And that is a SERIOUS understatement. Murderous would be more accurate.

Mercy Thompson has posed:
While the other woman's scent causes a few questions to flare within the mechanic's eyes none of them are voiced.

Even if the last part of her scent, the venom, a particularly sharp-feeling smell really makes her want to ask.

The vagueness of May's words causes Mercy's eyebrows to furrow slightly. She's following it, yes, but it still takes a minute for the other woman to parse who May is talking about. "If you mean Sam, yes, he's missing." A grimace flickers across the mechanic's expression now, even as she turns towards her work benches a moment, searching for her smartphone. "A few days back while working with Fred, our 'friend', sent this text." It only takes a few scrolls to find the text and then Mercy is bringing the phone over to May. So she can read the message.

The text states simply: 'Are you missing something?'

The text also states it's coming from 'Claire Temple'. "I know it doesn't say /someone/, but the fact that he sent it while Fred, Winifred that is, was here seems to be too coincidental to me."

Melinda May has posed:
Sam's name seems to be the magic word. May goes from completely Vulcan calm to ... well, still appearing completely Vulcan calm, but a protective almost parental worry is instantly noticeable to the coyote's nose. She leans a bit to read the text message, mentally noting the name it came from, and frowns the world's most subtle frown.

"You're preparing to help get Sam and the other back, aren't you?" She looks at Mercy again, and by her tone it's almost more of a statement than a question.

Mercy Thompson has posed:
That protectiveness is noted by Mercy's sensitive nose; it's something she feels too, though the mechanic's expression actually reflects that worry.

That question-statement of May's earns a nod from Mercy, as well as, "Yes." The smartphone will be tucked within a pocket of her coveralls now, "And we have a lead too. He found out he bought a train ticket to a particular station - I'm going to say we're likely going to find our way there to scope everything out." Her gaze drifts to the work bench where all her traps lay, "I might bring a few surprises, but most of those are for when we ready to ambush our mutual acquaintance. You know, just in case he brings friends."

Mercy's attention returns to May, "I'm going to assume you're going to help with the rescues? He also has a friend of mine - Claire Temple."

Melinda May has posed:
At the last question, May nods. "Yes. The plan is to also bring the Soldier in alive. May I ask who is included in 'we'?" She suspects Natasha at the very least, as she's the one that suggested talking with Mercy. Her eyes take in the contraptions and she reaches into her jacket -- increasing the smell of oiled weapons-grade steel as she does so -- and pulls a pistol presumably from a shoulder holster. It's not a standard sidearm, though, appearing a bit chunkier than an average 9mm. And oh, the venom. The GUN is venomous. She pulls the clip, revealing decidedly non-standard bullets -- they're projectiles, but they're not lead or copper or brass. They're capsules filled with a blueish liquid.

May starts manually ejecting these venom-smelling projectiles from the clip.

Mercy Thompson has posed:
"Sure -" States the coyote, even as she watches the woman bring the weapon out. At the appearance of that weapon Mercy can't quite stop the slight spark of wariness flares within her eyes again. It's only natural when a person you hardly know pulls a weapon out.

When the clip is pulled that wariness in Mercy's gaze abates slightly. Though at that increase of the sharp-tang venom smell Mercy can't quite hide the crinkle of her nose. It's so pungent. "- Claire Temple and Sam were part of it, myself, Liam, Natalia - possibly others that I'm unaware of. I'm going to try and speak to a few of my other friends who might be able to help. I'm worried we won't have enough power on our side to bring the Soldier down."

And while Mercy could have went on about her worries a bit more, she doesn't, not when May starts to eject those odd bullets. "What /are/ those?" The mechanic finally asks, her expression both curious and still slightly offended by that smell.

Melinda May has posed:
"Classified." It's almost automatic sounding. "That's why I can only give you this much to work with. Think of it as the chemical equivalent of a stun gun." Once all of the 'bullets' are ejected, May offers the handful to Mercy. "Maybe you can build something with them that might have a chance to putting the Soldier down and keeping him down without seriously injuring him."

And I can think of at least one other who has offered to help as well, he's been working closely with Natalia recently."

Mercy Thompson has posed:
When the handful of bullets is offered to her, Mercy automatically accepts. As soon as they're within her hands the mechanic can't help but look them over. "A chemical stun gun." Murmurs the mechanic, even as she walks the nose-offending bullets over to a work bench. Carefully, because she'd hate for them to go off, Mercy sets them atop the bench. A different work bench than where the electrical mines sit. Wouldn't want either weapons to set each other off. That would definitely be bad.

"I'll see what I can do with these." Mercy says, her attention shifting back to May now. "Thank you for them." She adds and continues with, "Yes, Natalia. So, you know her then? Or work with her?" Hazards the coyote, "I was going to ask how I could contact you if something is needed."

Melinda May has posed:
"I work with her." Not often, but semantics. May then reaches into her jacket again -- more of the oiled steel smell -- and produces a business card that is blank except for a phone number on one side. "I can be reached here. I can't promise I'll answer right away to calls or texts, but I will receive them."

Mercy Thompson has posed:
That extended card will be taken by Mercy Thompson. It's given a quizzical look and an eyebrow arches upward slightly at the very plain card, with only that phone number upon it.

Still, she's had worse and Mercy will nod. "Alright. If I find anything new out I'll drop you a message, or if something is going crazy I'll call."

"Thank you for helping with this -" Situation? Scenario? Dream? Crazy nightmare? Mercy hasn't quite figured out what to call this whole debacle, but it's definitely not your average day-in-the-life-of for the mechanic. "- problem." Is what she finally settles with. "If you need anything else just drop me a message here at the garage. I'm always around."

Melinda May has posed:
May nods. "I'll let you know if I hear anything else." And with that, she turns and leaves, her footsteps again very close to silent. Someone with normal human hearing would likely not hear her.