587/Stowaway

Stowaway
Date of Scene:	24 May 2017
Location:	Metropolis
Synopsis:	Summary needed
Cast of Characters:	Nick Fury, 185

---

Nick Fury has posed:
Nick Fury, Agent of SHIELD, soars upward through the air in a flying convertible, headed from a STAR Labs facility to the nearest hidden Helicarrier above the Metropolis skyline.

"Uploading data sample and en route to Olympus. ETA is T-10," he says to the car's central console, a high-tech interface sporting the SHIELD insignia.

<<Uploading,>> the car's synthetic voice responds.

Lorien (185) has posed:
The car experiences turbulance shortly after; there's a thud on the roof as if something with weight has smacked into it, and the impact causes the vehicle to dip sharply before returning to its normal flight path. The faintest edges of clawtips are visible in the corners of the windshield and hatch glass.

Nick Fury has posed:
As there's an impact, the computer says, <<Collision.>>

"Yeah, thanks, I got that much," Fury mutters, glancing at the claw tips. He slips a pistol out of a holster beneath his left shoulder and adds: "Execute Maneuver 'Top Gun Charlie'."

An x-harness extends from the car seat and around the man's chest to strap him in.

Then, the car begins to corkscrew in a spiral, not unlike a football.

Finally, as the ride does so, Fury begins firing at the roof of the car. "No ticket, no ride!" he calls.

Lorien (185) has posed:
Holding onto the vehicle is not a problem for whatever is on the roof; as the car spirals, the claw tips begin to pierce the glass of the windows, leaving a semi-opaque mosaic of fracture lines in a tight circle. The tip of the claw looks like it belongs to some kind of animal, but has a metallic sheen in the light.

Bullets blow through the rooftop, puncturing outwards, air rushing in through the newly made ventilation. A dark shape blocks out light from the central shot holes.

The onboard computer makes a warbling, staticky noise, as a transmission begins. A calm, cool male tenor comes over the speakers.

"Well now you're just being rude."

Nick Fury has posed:
The brow raised above his good eye, Nick Fury offers a confused expression toward the dark shape. "Maybe you didn't notice, but YOU'RE the one tearing up MY car?"

He punctuates his question with two more shots fired in its direction.

"And also, the driver controls the radio!"

"Computer--execute Maneuver 'Roller Coaster Tycoon'."

The car's corkscrewing slows and it begins instead a steep drop, almost vertical, down toward the ground. As it nears--no more than one hundred feet from a currently-empty intersection, the car makes a sharp turn back up, and it begins climbing again, nearly as vertical in angle as its initial drop.

"If you're messing up the paint, you haven't even begun to see how rude I'll be," Fury grumbles.

Lorien (185) has posed:
Somewhat familiar-looking webbing spreads out onto the four corners where the claws have pierced. Whatever this thing is, it took notes from Peter Parker.

<<"I attempted to land without any damage. I'll point out that you're the one shooting through your own roof. As for the windows? You keep trying to knock me off. What do you expect me to do, fall?">>

As the dive begins the conversation stops, and the dark shape above presses down against the hood. Now clothing can be seen through the holes, mostly a dirty white. As the vehicle climbs, spent bullets with compressed tips drop back down onto the floorboard from the holes they were shot into.

<<"I have to say, I'm impressed. It's harder to think through your computer than others. I'm having to put some effort in.">>

Nick Fury has posed:
"YOU'RE the one MAKING me shoot you--for screwing up my paint job!" Nick Fury shouts, his head back against the headrest of his seat as the car zips nearly straight up into the air.

He glances quickly at the bullets dropped down into the cabin.

"Tell you what," he says as the car reaches the apex of its climb and begins to slow for another sharp descent, "you let go...and get out of my damn computer...and we'll MAYBE have a diplomatic chat. Otherwise I'm gonna have to bring us into the range of some stuff that'll do some more damage. Probably to the both of us."

Lorien (185) has posed:
<<"I'm not exactly the most well informed whatever-I-am, but that sounds like a choice being made in desperation. I don't believe a human being would willingly put themselves into the way of weaponry strong enough to kill me just for the sake of your self-damaged car. If that's a threat, it's not a sound one,">> the man above points out.

<<"What guarantee do I have that you'll speak with me if I leave? You could just as soon take off once I release the vehicle. I've learned enough to know that keeping promises is not something your kind specializes in.>>

Nick Fury has posed:
"None at all," Nick Fury responds, and jams his thumb into a spot next to the car's ignition.

The floor underneath his seat drops away, and Fury--in his seat--is jettisoned downward into the open air.

Above him, the flying car detonates--the computer perhaps notifying, milliseconds beforehand, its various subroutines of the impending system termination.

As he drops, falling at hundreds of miles an hour, a pair of glider wings extend out from the top of the seat that also work to mask it, and its rider, from detection above. The SHIELD agent begins directing the glider toward a suitable landing spot.

"Fury to Olympus," he says into his wristwatch, "upload may have been compromised. Got a new player on the board..."

Lorien (185) has posed:
The signal to release and detonate was immediately detected. The man above thrust himself further upwards in a leap off the vehicle. Fury's descent is spotted, as four long spider limbs are extended into an X-shape, with billowing white material spread out among them. Nick's not the only one who can glide down.

Angling for rapid descent, the would-be-attacker sweeps down, speeding up, and comes within eyesight of Fury from starboard. From here, he can be seen: A black and bronze skinned man in white and black clothing, almost a sleeveless trenchcoat over a pair of hakama, a red scarf tied at the neck, covering nose and mouth. Four spider limbs sprout from his back, holding silk used for gliding.

"You could have just landed. I was open to dialogue!" he shouts across to Fury.

Nick Fury has posed:
"Control, just making sure you're getting this," Nick Fury says quietly at first, his eyepatch pointed toward the gliding figure.

Then, he shouts to the other individual. "Yeah, I hear that a lot from people who attack my car while I'm out for a casual flight! How do you visit family? Blow open their front door?"

Fury steers his glider-seat down toward a covered parking garage, the trajectory aimed toward the second level.

Lorien (185) has posed:
"You have a strange definition of attack. I landed on the roof. Do you also shoot pigeons that leave droppings on the windshield?" the other man asks. He's keeping up with Fury's glider with a small amount of effort. It's not perfect, but he's putting concentration into it to keep going. He obviously wants to keep talking.

"I watched you leave that laboratory. I saw pieces of who you are in your computer. I've come to bargain."

Nick Fury has posed:
"If it were a 200-lb pigeon?" Fury asks. "Hell yeah, I'd shoot."

He glides into the parking garage, popping the release button at the center of his x-harness and stepping out of the car seat.

Pivoting about on his heel to face the figure that's kept up with him, Nick Fury reloads his weapon, although he doesn't yet point the gun at it.

"Just so you know...in my circles, someone who hacks another's system and then talks about bargaining...that's generally called 'blackmail'. It tends not to go over well."

Lorien (185) has posed:
The spidery-looking man drops down onto the roof, legs folding up against his back and standing up over his shoulders.

He studies Nick, thinking on the situation, and genuinely seems as if he did not understand the implications of his actions, or his choice of words. "Why would I want to blackmail you? I have nothing to gain from that action. I connected to your computer in order to talk to you and understand you. When I saw that you have authority in SHIELD, when I accessed what SHIELD was - then I decided to follow you and to ask to bargain. You have greater power over me than I over you."

Nick Fury has posed:
Fury cocks his head to one side. "You understand that it looks a LOT different when you're accessing systems you shouldn't, assaulting agents and endangering lives, and pursuing them? And it's even worse when you admit to it?"

He shakes his head slightly. "The only thing you have to gain right now is continued freedom from prison. You say you've got something to share, then I'm listening. If you think there's anything else--at all--you're going to get from this talk, then you must have looked at the wrong SHIELD files."

Lorien (185) has posed:
"I have been conscious for ten years and most of those years were spent in a zoological enclosure in a laboratory. I did not realize this. I still have much to learn," he confesses. "So I will communicate as well as I can, and be as much to the point as I can."

"I am looking for a man, Doctor Weston Fine. He is responsible not only for my existence, but for the deaths of sixty seven innocent people, and the resulting deaths of one hundred and twenty-four hired mercenaries for his private army. I believe he presents a continued danger to everyone on this planet. I have no means of finding him and everywhere I have looked, his name and information seem to just abruptly stop. I know he's out there. I wish to bring him to justice for what he's done."

"If you and those in SHIELD will help me do this, I will serve you and your organization until the end of my life, in any manner you see fit."

Nick Fury has posed:
"Slow your roll, there, champ," Fury responds, holding up a hand.

"You do realize that whatever you're telling me is going to read as INCREDIBLY sketchy? You and I, we have not established a rapport. There's no trust here."

"Now," he continues, "I'm a prudent man. I'll look into this man. But I want you to hear this: I have to make sure that YOU did not plant any false information on some enemy of your own in the hopes that we'll do something we shouldn't. Ever heard of 'contaminated evidence'?"

Fury is quiet for a moment. "I see any suggestion, any at all, that you're trying to influence this request of yours--and that includes even sniffing around SHIELD assets--and I'll know exactly who I should deal with."

He begins to slip his pistol back in its holster. "You understand that?"

Lorien (185) has posed:
Again, the spider is caught off-guard. He's never dealt with anyone of Fury's stripe before. Like a chastened ten year old in front of a stern parent, he takes a step back, subdued to say the least. He reaches up and pulls the scarf away from his nose and mouth, fidgeting.

"I ... I did not consider any of that. I don't know what contaminated evidence is." He trusts Nick implicity, even if Nick does not trust back; Lorien can think things out using adult logic, but adult experience and saavy? Not so much.

It's easy to read from body language that Lorien is totally lost in this manner, but after a moment he nods his head in agreement. "I... believe I do. But... how will I know what you find? Or what a SHIELD asset is?"

Nick Fury has posed:
"That's the gamble you'll have to decide whether or not to take," Nick Fury says.

"In the meantime," he adds, "I recommend keeping your head down and doing..." He looks up and down at the figure. "...whatever your normal job has you doing."

Fury begins walking toward an old Lincoln Continental and opens the driver-side door. "And if you screw with this car, I'm going to turn you into moped parts."

The SHIELD director slips into the car and pulls out into the driving lane. The Continental shimmers, its beat-up facade replaced by that of a sleek sports car.

"Remember. No interference," he says, looking out the open window of his door.

Lorien (185) has posed:
Lorien watches Nick get into a second car, slightly frustrated at this turn of events. This isn't going to work for him. He has to be able to find Dr. Fine, and he didn't intend to simply turn this over and meander for the rest of his life.

He frowns frustrated. "I don't -have- a job," he mutters. "I don't have -anything-."

That means he'll have to take matters back into his own hands. Cold Self was entirely right this time. Humans are usually worthless and unhelpful. His expression slips into a smirk. "I won't interfere with anything I know not to interfere with." Which is almost everything, really.

Nick Fury has posed:
"Well," Nick Fury says with a sigh, "you might find it easier to get a job if you're not going around ruining people's paint jobs." He taps his temple with a finger. "But not interfering is a good start."

Then, Fury rolls his window up and begins driving--but where he would turn to travel down and out of the garage, instead the car lifts up into the air, the tires rotating to reveal lift-thrusters.

Just like Doc Brown's DeLorean, Nick Fury's sports car flies off into the sky.

Lorien (185) has posed:
Lorien watches the car go, temper boiling slightly. "... Jobs are easier to come by when you don't -look like this-," he hisses. He pulls the scarf back up. (It's a shame SHIELD is so secretive,) Cold Self thinks. (We can't possibly know how much we'll foul you up, can we.)

Unfolding his legs, the technospider crouches and leaps off the edge of the parking garage, disappearing into the urban jungle sprawled all around.