Owner	Pose
War Machine	In the series of hallways that make up that massive shield HQ, it's not unusual to see all sorts walking down those freshly polished floors. Said floors reflect an almost mirror shine as the work done to clean them is never quite over in a place with this much security.      Figures move back and fourth on their daily routine ducking into offices passing about paperwork and generally just doing everything that they can to keep operations copacetic behind the scenes. While the days of full on black suit and tie may have mostly faded into the realm of fiction only shown on reruns of syndicated shows there's still some respect for professional dress.      After all the majority of any organization like SHIELD isn't field agents or even agents in general but the men and women who stay behind on their computers filing paperwork and keeping the well oiled bureaucratic machine firing on all cylinders. Without the countless faceless cogs the entire machine could do little more then lay lifeless at the bottom of a sea of hostilities assaulting from all corners.      Rhodes walks through the halls dressed in his usual getup, a rather baggy pair of pitch black cargo pants and comfortable clothing that really lets him relax while giving a great degree of freedom of movement. He waves past to people he passes by giving the usual friendly greetings. He ducks to one side to avoid an intern with a tray of fresh coffee and monster energy for some of the other paper pushers in this section of the base, a coffee of his own already clutched in a single hand.      Under the other arm is a requisition form. Well form would imply there was only one of the damn things which looking at it one could be forgiven for thinking after all it just looks like a single sheet of paper. The problem comes in the fact that these days Digital paper makes that sort of thing a little more difficult to inspect.      The sad truth of the matter was that he needed to spend almost the entirety of last night between taking his niece to practice and keeping up with personal crime fighting he hadn't exactly done anything but fill out page after page of paperwork.      This time it wasn't even the actual after action report on its own. No that would have proven too easy if it were just a single document needed to be faxed out. On top of that after action it was also: the damage report, the munitions expenditure reports civilian damage assessment, government damage assessment, risk assessment, personality review documentation, fuel expenditure reports and far far more.      All in all it was the sort of mind numbing paperwork anyone in this sort of job spent thousands and thousands of hours filling out. To the average civilian it was all guns and laser light shows but to the people in the deep thick of the situation every single one of those guns and lasers needed to remain accounted for just to make sure that this house of cards didn't come crashing down in all directions. The joys of bureaucracy.      Rhodes knocked a few times on Darcy's door, before speaking. "Hey Lewis, need some help on the requisition forms for the eight mil rounds, I think if we work together on this I might be able to pass it off under the 'private expenses' section." Another knock. "I mean if we get creative enough."
Darcy Lewis	"Yeah yeah yeah! Come in, already," Darcy says, her voice muffled. She's not at her desk, but in the cabinets behind it, bent down in her pencil skirt, digging about for something. Backside in the air and she doens't even care. "You know if it's less than a hundred rounds, it's a no-brainer right? And under a grand you use the attachment I sent you?" she's saying before she crows in success. She backs up and straightens, pulling out a box of slightly dusty carbon copy sheets.
War Machine	Rhodes walks in and just admires the office for a moment. Such lovingly crafted sights and oh the view, it's to die for. He walks over to the desk setting down the digital paper as he just watched the rolling hills for a few moments a second later looking right back to his papers.      "Yeah well there's the issue." He scrolls through it. "I need to write off two thousand rounds of eighty eight millimeter, four hundred sixty of the fifty five millimeter, another thousand of the fifty cal, sixteen air to air eight SAM's and a Jericho." He pauses for a moment reading off the list with the same enthusiasm of someone reading their tax report out. He sets the page down onto the table again with a light click.      "I'm telling you if we split the rounds between the entertainment account, the local defense, and the international it'll still be in budget for the week." Looking over towards a near by picture hung up on the wall. "Oh yeah also eight canisters of fire retardant foam, and a can of the barrier gel."
Darcy Lewis	Box of carbon copy paper set to the side, Darcy pulls the form to herself, collecting her stylus as she goes. With experience and ease, she flicks through to the inventory, reading through what he just innumerated to her. "Jesus Fucking Zombies, Rhodes. What the fuck were you up against, man? A Jericho? Seriously? What? Was your SRM just not -enough-?" Darcy retorts, looking up at him as she settles to her stool and motions for him to drag one over to himself. She keys her terminal awake and rapidfires in her ten character or long password: IloveTacosonFridaySofuckyou!WORK (Not really, but the idea makes me laugh.)
War Machine	Rhodes looks back over from the painting. "I'm sorry next time I'll try asking the Toxic Tornado and his Unleaded Army to just stay out of Iraq." He walks towards the desk taking a long sip from his coffee cup.      The steam wafts up into the air as he just enjoys this moment. "First it was Tornado, then we had Dynamo going after battle creak, that whole Nazi zombie lumberjack army over in Toronto wasn't much better." He sets the cup down onto a small coaster on the table looking over towards her for a moment.      "The Jericho was for that cult in Havana" He rolls his hand scrolling over before pointing to the after action report. "They tried the old summon an abomination from another dimension to swallow the sun and plunge the world into an endless dark age."      "Since it was all technically one deployment it falls under the same weekly budget." He leans over a bit. "And the canisters were dealing with that great dragon and his goons." Without skipping a beat he adds. "I think I can get away with listing the napalm under fuel expenses, since I don't really take the company car that much, should lower things down to a bit more reasonable level."
Darcy Lewis	"That was one... Fuck, man," Darcy says, eyeing the report as she calls up her budget ledger. "I'm sure I can figure something out, extended engagement clause, maybe? Was this one right after another, no break? How much time lapses between each one?"
War Machine	"What can I say, I keep busy." He lets out a bit of a laugh, Rhodes running a hand through his hair. "You could count the flying as a break I suppose." He pulls up a bit of documentation on the flight times between destination.      It's a lucky thing that he's gotten better at the whole starting timers when flight times start. That being the case it's a fairly accurate timeline of events down the line from one to the next. "Good side about being able to get across the world in record time is you get more work, also the bad side." A bit of a lighthearted smile. "I did take a two hour break between Dynamo and the lumberjacks to make sure Lila got to that practice session for her school talent show."      There's a pause as he looks over to Lewis. "Don't know about you, but when I was in school?" Pause. "We didn't exactly need practice sessions for our practice sessions, we just sort of went out and did it."
Darcy Lewis	"Busier than a two-dollar hooker on half price day," Darcy quips, lips pursing. She's thinking through the forms, turning to the tablet to use the search function to get the correct attachments added.     "Ok. The two hour break can be considered a lunch break. Technically required by federal law, so if we add in an 874-B, that's covered. You've got your travel forms in order, so that covers that... Start and end times all match up, so.. there. We toss in a T9906 for Extended Mission, and flag it for Fury or May to sign off. It'll make it take longer, but if Fury gets it before May, he's likely to just skim and click sign so that it's over and done with," she says, looking up and smiling at Rhodey.     "Nice work on all those forms. I know they get tricky."
War Machine	Rhodes lets out a sigh of relief. "Well you know I didn't make it to Colonel on good looks or even combat." A light smirk crawls across his face. "It was all good old fashioned being able to fill out slips of paper in a way so boring our squad just got what it needed." Obviously joking as he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a can of drink.      The label has been taped over but Darcy would know what it is. Just a friendly reward for good work. "You know if I'd known working with SHIELD had so much paperwork I may have stuck around in the service for that generals star." A light wink. "Telling you Lewis, you're a life saver when it comes to this stuff."
Darcy Lewis	It makes Darcy chuckle lightly, that sigh and grin and wink. She says nothing of the can of drink. What she doesn't comment on, she can claim she didnt notice. "My pleasure. This is all way easier than getting funding for an attempt at creating a baby Bifrost."
War Machine	"You tried waiting for a year where it looks like we're going to spend too little?" Rhodes comments before another deep sip of coffee, his free hand going right down into a pocket. "If we don't spend a trillion this year we won't get a trillion the next, so might just need to time it right for when we need to make money vanish."
Darcy Lewis	"Duh," she says of the grant writing she had been doing for a certain astrophysicist. "Timing is totally crucial. So is making the right impression on the right old fart on the right funding approval committee. We've got room in the budget for your thing, I know we do. The justification is there, so don't even stress it," she adds on a smirk.