2680/I Lost My Jacket

I Lost My Jacket
Date of Scene:	03 October 2017
Location:	Triskelion, New York City
Synopsis:	Agents Romanova and Johnson speak to Ares about tactics when dealing with alien invasions in the future.
Cast of Characters:	Black Widow (Romanoff), Quake, Ares

---

Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
    While the invasion is over, SHIELD is still on high alert. As happens so often, such an event has sparked a cascade of new problems to be looked into, new procedures to put in place, new protocols to be discussed ad nauseum. As such, many of their resources are being tapped into for assistance. There are certain assets that are able to tapped only by certain people they trust. The God of War is one of those. While others may contact him, it is usually left to the woman who befriended him long ago, before she ever came to the United States. On the day his secret was revealed to SHIELD, she had stood by him as his protector, refusing to let him be taken advantage of during his brief detention. Ever since that day, she'd been dubbed Mama Bear by Agent May, although the stoic agent generally only used it when they were alone.
    Natasha has also been assigned the new recruit for the day, one Agent In Training named Skye Johnson. She had read the woman's file the previous night. Now, she is sitting in her office awaiting the arrival of John Aaron. She had arranged to meet him earlier in the day. Her office is sparse, not really showing any personality. A few books on shelves, an actual wood desk although it had all the computer goodies at the push of a button which would rise out of the dark surface. There was only one thing that might be called personal and it sat on the desk in front of her, to her left, where she could see it easily instead of putting it on a shelf behind it. It is so at odds with the woman and her reputation, since it's a rather cheap snowglobe but within is a ballerina.
    "You have the data we are going to share with him ready?" she asks Skye, since the girl is in charge of the paperwork. For indded, it is paperwork since John is rather old-fashioned at times. She's lucky he even answered his cell phone.

Quake has posed:
She was getting used to being passed around like a used kleenex from Agent to Agent, though she'd gotten her SO's now, so maybe there would be slightly less of the passing? Daisy wasn't going to complain.. well, she was, but mostly inwardly. Outwardly didn't get her very far, and she was getting tired of the 'In-Training' portion of her title. So it was she was behaving herself (for some value of behave) in the company of the 'Mama Bear', right on down to wearing regulation uniform. A sheaf of papers held in one hand, which she puts on Nat's desk.

"Right here. Though I have to ask, who the heck uses paper these days?" She *barely* manages to resist complaining about what a pain in the ass it was to print the stuff and carry it around with her everywhere.

Ares has posed:
    It is true, the cellphone is a demonic invention crafted by mankind to enslave the time of its people, enforcing upon them eternal obligation to those who simply hold the number. A horrible creation the likes of which Hades would be proud. But in this day and age it is a thing that he must endure, at least to some degree. So he had taken the message of the call and for a time considered surrendering to the siren song of procrastination. But then again... it was rare when Natalia made contact.
    His arrival was on time, his footsteps carrying him into the lobby. It is not the first time he's passed through the large bank of doors that allows the general public to enter the Triskelion. Assuredly the moment he had stepped out of his vehicle in the parking lot his unique power signature triggered a variety of alarms and let those in the know to be aware of this being's presence at the SHIELD base of operations. At a glance he seems like little of remark. Tall, assuredly, but the clothes are civilian issue. Jeans. Sneakers. A black t-shirt. But in his hand he carries a rolled up paper bag.
    As he walked to the doors that bag was scanned six ways to Sunday, the read out detailing it as little more than fabric, paper, and leather. Nothing heavy nor electronic, no weapons, no discernible chemical compounds of any volatility. He entered still carrying it.
    Then the receptionist was met with a grunt. His appointment was listed, and he was assigned an escort to lead him to the office that Natalia had claimed as her own. It was with a rap of knuckles that the arrival was signalled, the security guard opening the door for him once given clearance and then there in the doorway is that tall man, looking dour as he enters.
    "Natasha."

Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
    As he enters, Natasha is rising to her feet and moving toward the door. She had received a little 'beep' on her computer letting her know of his arrival on the grounds so she didn't have a gun in her hand when she rose. Without warning, she's been known to. Agents learned to call ahead. She moves directly to the tall man, a smile on her face that is probably one of the first Skye has gotten to see. It seems genuine, although with the Widow most things do if she wishes them to see that way. "Thank you for coming, John." She actually steps in close and hugs the man who stands more than a foot taller than she. It's brief but hearfelt. Then she is stepping back, taking on a more business-like demeanor. She is dressed in a green button up blouse, black slacks and short heels. There is no sign of her wristbands that would normally be on her wrists and there is no sign of a holster. Casual Tuesday apparently.
    She motions to Skye. "Agent Johnson will be joining us today. Agent Johnson, this is John Aaron. The one who likes paper," she adds with a hint of amusement. "Please, John, have a seat." There are two chairs set in front of her desk for just that purpose.

Quake has posed:
Daisy's a quiet shadow to the side when Nat rises to greet their 'guest'. Who it is earns a slight widening of eyes, and a quirk of brow, but it's the other Agent's greeting that gets a full on stare from the young woman. Not that she's not heard the story - rumours abound - but to see the facade crack in such a way? She'd have thought the Hoover Dam had more a chance of crumbling into dust than to see Nat not only smile (omg, the woman could smile?), but /hug/ someone.

Daisy's lips bow over a smirk of amusement in return. "We've met. Briefly." John Aaron gets a chin nod from the younger agent. Nothing nearly as exciting as Natasha's hello, but then again, she's just there to hand over papers and 'shut up and learn' as she'd been told time and again over her sojourn here. And not always so politely, either.

As instructed, she takes a seat, the one on the left, and closest to the papers she'd just put down.

Ares has posed:
    "Agent Johnson," The tall man's dark brown eyes fall heavily upon the younger woman, an eyebrow inclining slightly as if she just impugned the appreciation of paper products and he were employed in the selling thereof. But there's little more than that faint nod of acknowledgement, for really agents come and go, so few stick around for a length of time. To him... they tend to be objectives of impediments. As to which she would be remains to be seen.
    But then his brow furrows as she speaks of the past. Something having passed betwen them. His brow lifts, "Ah. The AIM incident. You..." His eyes narrow slightly, "You were the computer person. Hm."
    His eyes shift back to the Widow as she steps in for the embrace and he returns it gingerly with one arm as he gives a small grunt, "It seems the invasion finds you well, that matters have progressed sufficiently as to be returning to what passes for normal." He sets the paper bag down on the edge of her desk and then takes a seat opposite the two of them, leaning back in the chair as it complains creakily. His strong arms fold over his chest as he looks at them and he murmurs, "Before we proceed, I have a confession to make."
    He waits a moment to ensure that their attention is his before he gestures to the bag, "The jacket we acquired last time has suffered from the recent alien nonsense. I do not recall the craftsman's name who created the garment, and so I find I must admit to its loss in my effort to acquire another. I await your chagrin."

Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
    "Yeah, I survived although I went through a few uniforms before it was over." and a few stitches but Natasha doesn't mention that. It's par for the course with an alien invasion. Then she eyeballs the bag as he explains and her brow furrows.
    "Please tell me you are kidding me," Natasha mutters as she stands up and grabs the paper bag. She opens the top and gazes inside at what was once a rather nice leather jacket. "That's two!" She crumples the paper bag up instead of closing it back neatly and pulls it to her side of the desk where it is dropped on the floor. "John, the first time I can understand. Sort of. But this time, you should've known to take the damn thing off first. At least you didn't give it to a damsel in distress this time," she adds with a shake of her head. "I will be making you go with me to the mall again if you are wanting a new one. That's the price you pay."
    Realizing they are completely off track, she motions to the papers. "We've done some analysis on the parademons and their attack methods. They are letting some generals and tacticians look them over, come up with the best way to tackle them if there is a next time. I figured, why not go to the source so to speak. Figure you've forgotten more than most of them know."

Quake has posed:
That bowed smile of amusement grows as John at first doesn't tweak on having met her before, and then does. "Still me. They haven't kicked me out yet." Not like they would.. Well, out, yes, but it wassn't like they were going to give her fifty bucks, a pat on the back, and show her the door. It was this or less pleasant measures of keeping her in line. The real battle was: was she going to cave. So far sheer moxy and stubborn had pulled her through, and even though she'd be loathe to admit it publically, Daisy was starting to have a slight fondness for SHIELD. It hadn't been in her game plan, but other than a few hiccups along the way, things could have been a lot worse.

She's loathe to interupt the interplay between the other two, though. His particular vocabularly and verbal cadence having the woman pressing her lips together into a tight, thin line to keep from outright laughing - a matter that isn't helped when he's scolded for the loss of yet another jacket, and a shopping trip is declared. She would actually pay good money to watch that.

But they're here for the papers she'd brought with her. All the information that Agent Romanova had asked for, plus a few things besides. There'd been some critique and analysis done already - bits and bobs that had just hit the system when Daisy had called up the information asked for. She'd taken the initiative to throw them in with the lot.

Ares has posed:
    "I have only slain two," The tall man folds one leg over the other as he settles in, perhaps pleased that matters have progressed away from the aforementioned jacket. He lifts a hand as if to stay any questions, "They were vulnerable to high caliber rounds that were enchanted with the blood of oath-breakers." He smirks slightly as he glances over at Daisy as if considering what she might possibly have to do with this situation, then back to Natasha. "I understand, however, if such options are not feasible for SHIELD to use."
    That having been said he considers the papers and holds them up in one and, using a fingertip to lightly flip through them, observing what is written and taking his time with it. At points his brow furrows slightly, he turns another page. A few moments pass in silence as his eyes scan each page.
    A grunt slips from his lips and he murmurs, "Their method of ingress, these tubes, portals..." He holds up the papers and then sets them back on the desk. "These interdimensional pathways have their own magic, are brought forth by a unique power source. Weaponize it against them." His tone is matter-of-fact, as if he were describing the Sunday sports page. "Have one of your artificers craft a system to recognize their signature and to engage a countermeasure to if not destroy them then to recognize and cripple them."
    He frowns, dour of expression. "This Stark claims to be an inventor of some repute. Have him automate such a system, ignite the energy source when it is triggered." Then he tilts his head to the side as he considers matters thoughtfully, "Or contact the Sorcerer Supreme of this realm and have him make these Tubes of Boom's energy signature anathema to this land."

Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
    The explanation on the jacket gets an arched perfect brow from Natasha but no words. She isn't giong to get into the entire blood of oath-breakers thing at the moment. Especially since that would imply the beings firing knew that would work on him. Which brings up an entirely other can of worms she isn't sure she's ready to open yet. When he picks up the papers, she pushes a button and the top of her desk opens to allow the computer screen to slide up and revealing a keyboard.
    While he's reading, she is tapping in a few notes in regards to a jacket design that might be more resistant to damage than what they've been using. The peaceful construction worker seems to be getting in an awful lot of fights these last few months. Time to look into something more durable. Maybe see if the people over in WAND can help out with some sort of magical protection as well for 'blood of oath-breakers'.
    At his recommendations, her fingers fly over the keys as she makes notes of his suggestions. The last line has her peeking over the top of her screen. "Tubes of Boom?" Somehow, she doesn't laugh but instead ducks behind her screen again to finish making her notes. Then she lowers the screen partway so that her view of them isn't blocked. "Fitz-Simmons can be put on it first. I can speak to Mr. Stark. He was trying to find a way to block their weapon's energy signatures during the conflict so I know he'd be glad to help with this. As for the Sorcerer Supreme, I'll have to get someone to look into that as well. He's not in my speed dial." Unlike poor John.
    "Agent Johnson, you have anything further you would like to ask or add to the discussion?"

Quake has posed:
Daisy's been quiet. You can learn a lot that way; even more of if people forget you're around. Not that she's likely to be forgotten in a crowd of three, but it's done her well in the past. And she's picked up a few tidbits just sitting here. She's not sure when or where they'll be useful, but things usually are, eventually. It's just riding it out until you can use them.

John's beyond quaint vernacular keeps Daisy's lips pressed in that thin line that is keeping her amusement mostly at bay. All part of that staying noticed as little as possible. He's got ideas though. she's not sure if they're precisely new, though most of what she's seen would suggest the focus has been on rendering weapons neutral, not advanced warning detection. And, as luck would have it, she's on full orders to show up to Fitz-Simmons.. The idea gets a smirk. See? Ways and means to stick your nose into things..

"Hrm?" Daisy is drawn out of her smug little thoughts by Natasha's question. "Me? Uh.. Stark has been looking into ways to nuetralize the weapons. I think he likes playing with big guns if you ask me." Nobody had, and it was a rather personal observation to boot. "I think you'd do better to follow what he said."

A nod to John.

"Better still if you can catch the signature before it's hit the point of emergence. Did anyone watch any retreats? People always pay attention to arrivals, but how a person covers their tracks is just as important as how they show up. Tells you a lot more, sometimes." She should know. She'd not only used any number of back doors in her lifetime, but her own is how they'd caught her. She was literally living proof of concept.

Ares has posed:
    "Also they seem to not have any formal military training," John says as he leans forwards slightly, considering the papers that he had tossed onto Natasha's desk. Perhaps it is something he picked up from the files, or perhaps he had just observed himself in his brief encounter. "They function more like pack animals, though perhaps they may have some instinctive talent for combat that was put there by whatever means this Darkseid individual uses."
    A wave of his hand is given, dismissive. "I would need more exposure to them directly before I could offer more insight. Or perhaps any imagery you have created from what battles have passed." A video tape. Sure. But then he frowns, "However, this would have to be but a first step."
    John looks between the two of them and he grimaces, "These beings have dared to transgress against this world. They have presumed much and must in turn pay a price. You should not be seeking pathways to purely making us immune or to give us warning. All defensive measures are rendered moot if none of your enemies are alive to attack. We should burn their realm around them and then salt the land upon which they first set foot on the path on what passes for their idea of civilization."
    Then he tilts his head, "Was there aught else? Or should I consider my obligation discharged in this matter?" His lip twists slightly, sardonic.

Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
    "Their retreats were the same as their arrivals," Natasha responds to Skye even as she is tapping in information once more. "Boom Tube then they were gone. Everything hinged on those tubes allowing them to arrive and exit." She glances over at the woman with a slightly furrowed brow, wondering how she knew what Stark had been working on but realizing it really didn't matter. It was dismissed.
    As John continues, she smirks a bit at his summation of the situation and how to resolve it. "Well before we go invading another planet, we need to have some idea how to defeat them more easily. We had a bad enough time against an invasion force. An entire world might be a little beyond our skill levels. For now." There, give the god some hope that there might be a glorious battle in their future. "They did work as a single mind, it seemed. Not too smart and they would hurt their own troops in their efforts to attack, walking right over them or even shooting them." She taps a few more buttons then nods to Skye. "Please get a copy of the various SHIELD files containg battle footage. I want it all provided to Mr. Aaron. If my clearance is needed for it, just shoot it my way and I'll get it copied over." She better not have to put on it VHS though. She'll shoot him herself if she does.
    Only then does she look over at John again, that smirk on her face. "Your obligation on this matter is discharged, yes. Although you need a new jacket. I'll be looking into it. I remember your size."

Quake has posed:
Daisy's brow furrows, listening to the others speak. "So, exact same signature both ways? No difference in energy levels? No changes whatsoever?" The thought is mulled. "No. I don't know where I'm going with this.. just something about it is bothering me."

She's barely had time to frown and mutter over the 'bothering me' as John's plan hits, earning him a full on stare of disapproval. "Hey, Sherlock, we were barely able to beat them down on our own homefront. What makes you think we can waltz in to their turf and wreak havoc? Have you ever seen a turf war? Home planet advantage is a thing. Not to mention if you miss any of their wanderers, they've got nothing to lose by tromping on back to our place and cutting up our lawns."

She's still muttering about that when her orders on the matter come through. "What I saw looked a lot like hive mind." The battle stuff she wasn't supposed to look at, but did before delivering it to Tony Stark - and oh, he'd called her on that. "If they're truly hive, you could break them by taking out the main control.. And yeah, I know. Shut up and learn, Daisy. Find what you asked for and send it your way."

Ares has posed:
    Rising to his feet smoothly, the tall man towers over the two women, looking between them as he gives a single stern nod. "Very well, I shall endeavour to make the next jacket last longer than the others." Of course that might not be exactly a high bar, considering. Still, with that said he pushes a rough and over the stubble of his scalp and grunts towards Daisy, a small smirk flickering into place at the corner of his mouth.
    "Simple, little mortal." John says levelly as he tilts his head to the side, the joint crackling with subtle aeration. "This time you would have me there." And voila, as if that solved all the world's woes, he presents the solution to them so easily.
    A glance is given back towards Natasha, "If matters require, I am working in the city this week. I will be available."

Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
    As Skye asks if John has ever seen a turf war, Natasha's eyes widen in surprise and the smirk is back in full force. She's a little surprised at the gentleness of his response all things considered. She remembers the entire creepy shadow thing that happened one time when she too was young and had asked a question that he felt the need to punctuate the answer to. If she didn't know he was on their side, he would scare the pants off her. As it is, he's one of the few people on the planet she would consider a friend. Interesting how life works sometimes.
    She does glance over at Skye at the last. "No, Agent Johnson. There is no such thing as shut up and learn except in a situation where it's a matter of life and death. In a sitution at this? You are welcome to discuss and offer opinions. Just because you are a newer agent doesn't mean your input isn't valuable and a new set of eyes is always good."
    Her gaze goes to the tall man heading for the door. "Thank you again, John. I'll be in touch. And I'll try to get a jacket that might last a few rounds before you reduce it to tattered, burned bits." Since that's what was in that paper bag.

Quake has posed:
"Riiight," Daisy nods at John. "Son of Zeus. I remember." And while she says it, you can see the wheels begin to churn. "Holy crap, you're not kidding, are you?" Her smirk is one of discovery. "And given what just went on here? Okay. So you've seen a turf war or two in your time."

It's not an apology, but as far as acknowledgements and nods to respect go, she's just given it.

Her attention is slowly dragged back to Natasha. "Fair enough. Still bothers me that whole tube. Likely a device that can be disabled. Same with the soldiers. They don't move quite like fully independant agents. To- Mr. Stark made some remark about it. If you watch the vids, it's there. Subtle but there. Could be the same thing - another device. Maybe not mind control, but a singular sourced command centre instead of boots on the ground commanders."

She does take time to give their guest a grin. "Maybe next time we can have coffee. Or the blood of our enemies."

Ares has posed:
    "Mmm," John says, non-commital as he eyeballs Daisy then he looks over towards Natasha and gives her a nod as he pushes open the door with one hand. "Til the next time, agents of SHIELD." His lip twists slightly as he looks between them, "I shall be counting the moments."
    That said he turns his back on them and finishes stepping out the door, leaving the door open for a moment and then pushing it closed with precisely the amount of force needed to get it to close and then click shut faintly. Once that's done they might see his silhouette walking down the hallway on whatever video feed they might be privy to.
    A few minutes later and he'll be gone.