Owner	Pose
Nick Fury	Location: The National Mall Nick Fury sits on a bench facing the Lincoln Memorial reflecting pool, a newspaper in his lap. One leg is crossed over the other, and he has his arm draped over the back of the bench. He's dressed in a relatively nondescript, if bespoke, three-piece suit. Fury checks his wristwatch and then returns to gazing upon the pool.
Ra's al-Ghul	Leland McCauley, since the end of the Cold War, has been publically known for his attempts to reach an armistice between NATO and the former Warsaw Pact, in terms of fostering economic cooperation and equalization in terms of policy programs in both countries, gearing down the heavy military-industrial complex of the Occident and building corporate structures in the Slavic world. Towards this goal, he has used a vast fortune of money and university contacts from all around the world to create a vast social movement, known as the 'Legend Foundation'. What SHIELD may suspect, this money and these university contacts have literally appeared from the aether. And far more sinisterly, branch organizations are often near societal sabotage operations, such as the terror attack on Gotham and an anti-war movement operating out of Gotham University. The planning and organization is asymmetric in nature, but with such surgeon's precision as has been seen here and there on occasion, especially in something Nick Fury may be aware of: the creation of the Axis in World War 2. And, oddly enough, movements contrary to the Axis after the surgeon's hand disappeared from the fascist powers. A tall East Asian man with the weathered Bedouin skin and gaze of an Arab walks along the mall, wearing a black suit with his hands in his pockets. The suit is tailored immaculately, but is ultimately a drab piece, humble in its origins. He slips his hands out of his pockets as he passes Nick Fury, before moving to sit beside him. His back rigid but fluid, the posture of a Shaolin warrior, and his stance evoking an ancient Arab or Mongol knight, he shares Nick's view out of the reflecting pool. "Mr. Fury."
Nick Fury	"Mister McCauley," Fury replies, turning his head to acknowledge the man. His arm draped over the bench raises to gesture at the seat beside the SHIELD director. "Please," he adds. "I appreciate you meeting with me." Fury clears his throat and sets the newspaper on his lap upon the ground beside the bench. "You're a bit of a difficult man to talk to. That is--it's taken some effort to get added to your schedule. And I'll admit my people are very interested in learning more about that schedule."
Ra's al-Ghul	"In politics, Mr. Fury, women are not the only ones who play games." Leland keeps his head forward, placing his palms on his legs. His eyes glance in Nick's direction, with a slight tip of his face. "Especially when we've seen you first." He lifts his left leg and crosses it over his right, closing his posture and beginning discussions. "I have been interested in SHIELD for quite some time. I must say, I admire the precepts of your charter. A cut above the rank and file of this world that seek to protect it. You are superhuman without the typical crutches that weaken the resolve of many of them."
Nick Fury	"Mm," Fury replies, nodding as McCauley speaks. "I wish I could tell you that we were hiring, 'cause that's a good pitch." He chuckles after a beat and grins at his bench companion. "Aw, who'm I kidding? We're ALWAYS hiring--but I imagine you've already got a job at least as good as mine." The SHIELD director shakes his head. "What makes me curious is what you're after. Are you looking to disrupt the whole affair? Take it over? Hell, do a merger?" His one good eye stares at McCauley. "You're just a bit difficult to sniff out, if you know what I mean."
Ra's al-Ghul	"Nicollo Machiavelli, and the Biblical Prophets, committed the same crime, you know, for different reasons." Ra's looks at Nick, smiling. "They spoiled the secret nature of the game, and told the masses." Ra's smile fades, with a bit of wistful penitence lurking around his eyes, as he looks off into the distance, down the Mall. "I have done grave things, wrong in the nature of any man's oath, be the highest of kings, or the lowest of criminals. And surely, you know, even the worst nihilist has reasons, even if a nihilist is driven by subconscious gratification." There's a sigh that comes out of him, as he looks down at his hands. They are not quite a modern doctor's - they are the hands of a martial artist - but it is a medical gesture of disappointment in himself he gives. "I do what I do to prevent large tragedies. Small tragedies are a part of that, Mr. Fury."
Nick Fury	"Well, that's true enough," Nick Fury says with an idle nod, leaning on an elbow that's perched on the back of the bench. "I imagine that if your goal were to promote large tragedies, we probably wouldn't have much to discuss." He shifts in his seat just a bit to lean more on his arm. "Let me ask you this: do you find yourself ever trying to avoid the small stuff, too? Or have you found a suitable threshold for action?" Fury's eye narrows slightly for a moment. "I'm just wondering if you think SHIELD is a tool to be employed for some unstated end. Put a bit differently--is SHIELD supposed to give you gratification?" He offers a toothy grin, but it's devoid of any humor.
Ra's al-Ghul	"There is a way that is innate in the universe, Mr. Fury, to navigate between culling the herd, to select breeding material from livestock. It is a force. Fate, Nature, God, Creation, Spirits, Leylines...There are many names for it. It is a mystery that I cannot grasp, these many years I have walked this Earth in these tired shoes. Some beings are selected to be Agents of this force, perhaps someone may call it Fortune. When one survives an unbelievable tragedy, be it of birth or a near death experience or surviving the brutality of a war, there is a seed placed in you, a figment, that makes you more than just yourself. You become a superhuman. Not in any pop culture term. Or a philosophical term. Merely an individual that can do tremendous things, by walking apart from his or her fellow running dogs." "If you leave society in the hands of Agents of Fortune, then it advances. If you control society and do not let God do his divine work via these servants, some of whom terrifying and others benevolent, then you push the world backwards." "SHIELD breeds these individuals by the very notion of joining it."
Nick Fury	The director of SHIELD nods, his expression one of consideration. "If you're looking to fund, then, I can certainly set you up with our accounts department. You'd be joining some respectable company--and not just in terms of the United Nations' collective support." Fury pushes himself off his one arm, sitting upright. "I like to think that we're bringing together some good people to make a difference in the world. Any chance that you want to offer support of some other kind?" "I'll be honest, Mister McCauley," Fury adds quickly, "you sound kind of like someone browsing the dogs at the pound. Don't get me wrong, I follow the general message--I even agree with you, mostly. And yet."
Ra's al-Ghul	McCauley grows sinister, a faint tilt forward in his posture as his hands slide down his legs. "I am not here to assist you, Mr. Fury. Not in that way, at least. You are here to assist me." Ra's uncrosses his legs, and then interlocks his fingers above his lap, looking upwards at the sky, squinting as he challenges the sky itself with his gaze. "And if you succeed in assisting me, I will have helped you into assisting yourself. I am an old man, Mr. Fury, far older than you have probably guessed. My longevity will not last forever, and this number is unstable. There are ghosts in this world, Mr. Fury, there are afterlives and Hells and Heavens and magicks, all with their own little form of torture for the dead. Some depart their weary journey to a paradise, forced to watch a place they can't touch. Others see their own ruin and all they've caused. And yet others are bound to service of some other force. I admit, I am afraid, but that is only for myself. At heart, I am a doctor." 'Leland' rises up. "I have come here to let you know, that there will be a challenge. I am not seeking to conquer society, or destroy it, or even do something unethical in terms of the sanctity of human flesh. I am looking for a new steward of the Earth. All things flow out of each other, I was once told." His hands slip into his pockets, looking down. "That is a lie. You may only move forward. Everything else is just a neurological illusion." He looks sidelong. "Good day, Mr. Fury. I wish you luck." Ra's al-Ghul strolls away, with a certain grim sadness, his back to Fury.