12259/Sweeping Up The Pieces of Mind

Sweeping Up The Pieces of Mind
Date of Scene:	02 August 2022
Location:	St. Luke's Hospital
Synopsis:	What monsters have SHIELD unleashed?
Cast of Characters:	Jane Foster, Leopold Fitz, Jemma Simmons, Blackagar Boltagon

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Jane Foster has posed:
Morning, and St. Luke's is heavily weighted to being a busy, busy place. The ICU has an unpalatable nurse to patient ratio, partially because SHIELD has co-opted a lot of the ICU beds throughout the state for a hidden epidemic that no one else gets to particularly know about. This isn't quite a field hospital situation, so much as 'spies have spywork to do.' Because there's an unconscionable number of unconscious people in otherwise fine health, at least until the first twenty-four hours or so pass. Then, the soulless bodies start to decline, little by little, without the direct involvement of people to feed it, care for it, nourish it as the occupant isn't home. And this has been happening for weeks; well over a month. Two. Hope seems to be lost for the young, the old, and all those between without trained physicians, CNAs, nurses, and other staff to hold them fast.

One very tired woman who has little business being in the thick of it is in the thick of it, pulling the best scientific team she has from SHIELD short of Bobbi being around as well. But Bobbi has other tasks to do.

"Here," Jane is wearing scrubs, because you do, especially when you can carry contaminants, "we've got seventy-eight patients currently suffering psychic dislocation. They're about four percent of the total patient population we are dealing with. I need your input, because we have a mass of patients who are currently lacking their higher sentient function because the processes responsible for that are currently /out/ of their bodies. We have their... psyches, if you prefer to call it that. Or their souls. We have to figure out how to put them back together in a repeatable process that doesn't rely entirely on someone with the metahuman or magical ability for telepathic surgery. And we have a deadline for this task, because once they are unhoused, they deteriorate immediately."

Leopold Fitz has posed:
Dr Leopold Fitz isn't wearing scrubs but rather his work clothing; button-down oxford with rolled up sleeves as a nod to the 90' heat outside, a tie, pressed pants and a servicable pair of leather shoes. SHIELD ID badge hangs upon a leather belt, and he's got hands placed on his hips as he listens to the new(er) information.

"What started wi' a small handful has bloomed," is muttered. "The chances of getting things right now?" Much, much worse than when it was contained to the school grounds. "What about the walking wounded?" Granted, the walking wounded have something of a lower acuity; they're not immediately dying, or fading away as those others who are empty vessels.

The hands that were on hips drop into pockets as he dodges a tech, the aide offering a soft scuse me' as they continue on their way. "The entity, whatever it was, was targeting a group of witches." Not the strangest thing Fitz has ever said, but he does pause in it before continuing, "At the school. We could try an' study their effects?"

Jemma Simmons has posed:
There is more than just Jane wearing scrubs. And, unlike Fitz, Jemma doesn't opt for her standard work clothing. Or, does she? Medical doctor and all...maybe she is more comfortable in scrubs than not. And, it could certainly be classified as 'work clothing'. Jemma has been seen more often than not in the Medical wing of the Trisk.

Still, there is Jemma, clad in the finest protection sterilized cloth can provide, listening intently as Jane relays the current need. "You are asking for a repeatable process to re-attach what is essentially raw data to the living host that produced such data, without the aid of a metahuman? So, just for clarification's sake, you are asking us to devise a method to perform a system restoration. In essence, creating a boot disk for a human being." Jemma pauses, as if considering, as her eyes flicker to Fitz, then back to Jane.

"I mean, that is the general concept, yes?"

The tone is skeptical. But the expression upon Jemma's features? There's pondering there...and perhaps the slightest spark of inspiration.

Jane Foster has posed:
"Indeed it has. The majority of these patients originate from New York, though not exclusively to Greenwich Village. The source for the attacks has been dispersed by this point, but as you can see, the effect remains independent of its influence or existence. I had hoped," Jane explains quietly, "that the results might reverse. Bit of an unlikely scenario." Her tablet remains at her side, something she can easily tapped. "Walking wounded are far fewer than unconscious. Most of these patients were struck unawares. The few patients who remained conscious, even with their psyches transplanted into another body, seemed to have resulted from metahuman or mystical interference. In short, we know there was a sorcerer at NYU who blunted the attacks on the students there. Hence why we had a few cases that were outliers." A few taps bring up the specific names in a neat series of cards, photographs and names attached, along with a few cross-referenced cases of being in the wrong body. Few as they are.

"The entity can't function in the world without a physical host, so it used coercion, fear tactics and outright possession to control people. It manipulated several mages to do its bidding. Some are dead. We have a few in custody. It's a start, anyway." She confirms Fitz's statements with a nod, though her slender fingers swing across the tablet screen and bring up a few elements of footage. "Trying to replicate their actions /might/ be possible, though I'm not sure it's easy to reverse engineer a ritual. The problem with the psychics, too, their abilities are innate and not something they might be able to transcribe into a program normally. But let's be honest, none of us are normal in our capabilities scientifically or in engineering." A hint of a smile is allowed. Jemma is certainly /not/ dealing with magic. Nope. "I'm asking us to explore how we can take a functional psyche that's currently housed in a temporary physical container, and plonk it back into that body. We have certain advantages. The mind /wants/ to be in its body, it will hopefully know it. There's certainly a high level of trauma these patients already went through when they were being psychologically counselled and... stabilized, we'll say. The psychics created an institution to provide mental health support when they were dislocated. It's analogous to the care we would provide an injured patient. So we are trying to /transfer/ their psyches, yes, back into their bodies. You could think of it as a boot disk or in simpler terms, networking them from one location to another. As if a person is a file. And we will agree to never say I said it that way." Her expression would be mildly horrified, otherwise.

The better to look to the patients out there, being tended, monitored, an unchanging web of beds and lives in the balance. "We've got hundreds to help. The process is going to require us most likely to transport them all to the Bronx. That implies we are going to need to deliver them in shifts, plausibly via paramedics or a more discreet method that doesn't require the whole city wondering why a flotilla of ambulances is showing up to a chunk of residential property. That's another factor. Their souls are being housed within vessels that run entirely off an intangible energy source that is personally draining to the individual who is sustaining it. Hence why we need to start offloading that burden to where we've reconnected body and mind. The patients /then/ can be administered to by medical personnel and the most harmed can be seen by WAND, the telepaths or any of the trusted magical consultants. But realistically, the answer also has to be engineering and scientific. /They/ can't replicate on a scale what /we/ can."

Leopold Fitz has posed:
The thought of a person needing a reboot certainly makes things easier to calculate and study for the good doctor of engineering, and he nods slowly. Still, over the years, and more recently, he's been in contact with things that 'go bump in the night' that aren't easily explained away in terms of science. Thankfully now, there's a whole different department for that! In the here and now, it's a question of wet-ware, neural/electrical interfaces, and..

Fitz is pacing slowly now, listening to the others as they bring their musings to the table for consideration. At Jemma's words, Fitz spins around and looks directly at her, as if pulling information from the aether that lies between them. It's the way they've worked for years, and it's worked so very well for him.

His hand bounces a couple of times in the air as he pulls thoughts from there, his words adding to the theoretical conversation, "Of course it has to be repeatable. But, we've done that already." It's not a good memory, his presence in the Framework, but all the musings are leading him there. "If we were to program the Framework," he starts slowly, "An' none of 'em would be alone there. We know how to interact. We've already gotten the interfacing..." and he looks around again, returning his attention to his partner in crime even while to talks to them both.

"We can probably use our walking wounded as guides, too. We have a small pool of who is whom from the original NYU batch." Of course they've tracked them.

Jemma Simmons has posed:
Jemma is most certainly *not* dealing with magic. No. Magic is just science that isn't explained yet. And that is how it is going to be, within Jemma's own mind.

As soon as having the words leave Jemma's lips does the idea strike. And...of course it strikes both Fitz and Simmons at the exact same time. Fitz's own words echo what is inside that brunette head of Jemma. Where Leo leaves off, Jemma picks up. "The mapping is already performed. Daisy and I saw to that. And we have already built in safeguards to control the environment from the inside. We would just need to construct a virtual neural pathway, one tailored for each individual, to facilitate the transfer process. That, itself, is already feasible with the Framework itself. It is how it was able to download data from its, hmm, participants and, particularly useful for our purposes, it is how it *uploaded* data as well." The emphasis was certainly on the upload portion.

Jemma takes the lead now, her eyes bright and alive as the plan seems to formulate all on its own. "The mainframes that power the Framework would be powerful enough to handle several displaced individuals at once. We would need to have a guide within the virtual matrix that is familiar with it to assist." A pause, as those brown eyes flicker towards Fitz. "And...we would need a contact on the outside with coding and engineering knowledge to be able to adapt should the need arise."

Just what is Jemma saying? She continues on, providing the answer. "My virtual avatar already has the necessary edits to be able to manipulate the Framework from within. It would make logical sense that I be inside, as the guide. Which means that Fitz, I would need you at the controls."

Is it a possibility that Jemma doesn't want Leo back in the Framework, to be exposed to the memories of what he was within? Possibly. Did Jemma volunteer to ensure he doesn't have to face those memories? Absolutely.

Jane Foster has posed:
When it comes to setting off the Fitz Simmons, Jane knows much better than to interrupt their thought processes. It's like surfing. Get on the board, face the wave, and from thereon out it's up to the force of nature whether she ends up facedown in their surge of ideas or manages to carry through to the end. Given all things that are unleashed, she sits at the edge of the table. "I would like to know a bit more about the Framework since I wasn't exactly here for that. Mostly because I'm going to no doubt have to explain that to our associates and partners, giving reassurances we aren't committing souls off into the void. I suspect that they'll be grateful to know we have something with specific parameters that inhibit data loss, signal loss, or other causes for corruption on the transfer. Because it goes without saying they're alive, and they experience everything that happens to them. Right now, the patients are sedated physically and they are sedated mentally -- at least while they are in their current vessels, otherwise there would be significant problems. I don't think they would countenance being a dove or a chipmunk well after what they went through."

All the same, she can spread her hands easily enough. "Fitz, I can give you the relative volumes they occupy, the energy sequences and the general output of activity so that you should be able to narrow down the data streams to something reasonable. No point in having bandwidth for gigabytes if they only take up a few kilobytes, so to speak. What other factors come into play in this? Obviously there will be some degree of damage for a few that we might have to patch or prepare for on the fly. We need more advanced programs for that. There's also the question of /where/ the Framework is. Will it function if we move it /there/? Because moving the vessels is going to be a problem."

And then, the driest of tones, the coolest of coughs. "That is, would it run in the Bronx on site? Or am I going to be creating a stable bridge for you to move between? I'm afraid of data corruption, if that's the case, for the souls sent through but... I've managed with other things."

Yes, she's talking about building a stable localized wormhole between two functional places in space. And holding it.

Blackagar Boltagon has posed:
Ok, so being tasked with the arduous duty of picking up coffee and bagels would normally befall some type of intern or assistant, but today it has been taken on by Blackagar. It is why his arrival comes at this time and, in fact, why he is there at all in many regards. Trundling his way up with the bag of multiple varieties of pastries and a carrier with coffees in it, he approaches the triad of scientists, glancing amongst them with a tilt of his head that holds silent uncertainty behind the expression. Setting the items down, he reaches to his 'watch' and activates the voice translator for his signing so that the robotic (but at least not Siri) voice can speak for him.

'This may be a crude question,' the voice begins without any inflection of tone, 'But is the cost of this endeavor worth it?'

A harsh consideration, but the expression on the Inhumans' face is rather compassionate looking between Jane and then Jemma and finally Fitz. 'If I am understanding, you are preserving less than 100 individuals? Is the extent of what you are undertaking,' he pauses, then hands move again, 'are these actions worth the cost? Not in money but in resource, time, potential other risks?'

Leopold Fitz has posed:
There aren't many who are privy to the workings and machinations of the hive mind of Drs Fitz and Simmons, but those who are have discovered that 'FitzSimmons' is actually a thing.

Fitz hand bobs again in the air as he pulls thoughts, the other in his pocket, as he nods quickly, pointing out, "It should be easy enough to program for the interfaces, as soon as we discover the maps.." which might also be done by comparing a lot of EEGs along the way.

Fitz waves off the question of power supply, "We can keep a helicarrier in the air. Multiple. Cloaked. Power supplies should be the last of our worry. If we need small, then we could pull one from a Quin." Easy-peasy.

A guide? When Jemma volunteers for it, it stops Fitz in his tracks, and he just looks at Jemma. Stares at her for a long moment before he starts to shake his head. "You know as much as I do how dangerous it is in there for any one of us," he begins. "I don't want.." and he lets his voice trail off, but it's there on his face, in his eyes. He's afraid of the Framework, of it's interior world of power, of knowledge.. of all the things that he never thought he was, but now?

"I could do it." Is that a request for self-redemption?

Possibly.

Jane's talking, her offrances of information goes partially unheard, but finally he pulls his gaze from his partner to she who is addressing him next. It gives him that moment, that chance to pull himself together, totally into the science mode of which he is so well known. "I can handle gigabytes, but it's appreciated Dr Foster. We can narrow the field streams once we see what we're looking at in the Framework itself." It'll be touch and go.. after all, this is an unprecidented scale.

Blackagar's arrival with coffee and bagels gains Fitz' attention, but not for too long. He's already working out forms and theories and multiple interface possibilities even as the man 'speaks'. The question that arises has the man turning around, his expression fixing, "It's worth every one of them."

Jemma Simmons has posed:
The most recent question is answered first. "Even if it was just one life, it would be worth it." The answer is automatic, unwavering. If Jemma has a chance to save just a single life, she is going to take it. No matter what. The fact that Fitz agrees just speaks to the synchronicity of the two.

Then, Jemma addresses the other point. The fact that she volunteered. And, she starts with acknowledging Leo's point. "You are absolutely correct. We both know exactly how dangerous it is in the Framework. I fought with AIDA directly, with Daisy. We are both uniquely qualified for the task." Then, Jemma's voice softens, as she reaches over to place a hand on Leo's shoulder. "It isn't my first time volunteering, you realize. I have done so once before, to retrieve the ones I love." The hand lowers as Jemma offers one of her smiles. "Besides, as I stated before, my virtual avatar is modified to be able to manipulate the simulation." A bit of a blush touches Jemma's cheeks. "We took inspiration from the movies. Added a cheat code, if you will, into the system that was keyed on Daisy and me. She kept calling me Trinity."

Yes, it is dangerous in the Framework. Jemma fully knows that. However, Jemma is also smart enough to not go in there without adequate preparation. Even if it includes cheating a little.

Jane Foster has posed:
The Inhuman King has a way of moving around with the stealth that only a person who doesn't need to make a sound can. It can be downright uncanny to watch Jane respond before he's actually fully visible with bagels and coffee, which implies her sense of smell is honed. Not quite as well as tea or any Wolverine clone, but enough to lock onto the prize. Mm, caffeine. She flicks her fingers in a wordless greeting to Blackagar, one-handed since she has to support the tablet. In scrubs, she probably looks a bit like the photograph of her mother kept on a mantle somewhere in that ridiculously posh apartment in the Dakota that she keeps. Yoko and John aren't neighbours anymore, of course. The tablet she can easily set to the side though, after the abbreviated ~Hello my little owl. Magnitude worse than that, I'm afraid.~ The freeing up of her hands allows for a more fluid transition to 'speak'... or, more appropriately, to help with the task of sorting anything out while Fitz and Jemma spin up to their fullest capacity.

"Over a thousand, not a hundred. We have deemed it worthwhile to keep them in intensive care since they were all discovered, so yes. I wager that the sudden deaths of a thousand comatose patients, the youngest of whom is around seven and the oldest is an octagenarian, is not considered acceptable by our bosses." She isn't angry with the question, skimming across the facts with the peculiarly even tone of someone parsing through the details. "For further consideration, leaving them separated leaves us with something other than an ethical issue. The dislocated people will die, eventually. Compelling evidence indicates that they could fuel the entity or similar ones that attacked them in the first place, strengthening the parasite and encouraging it to remain in the vicinity. They will attract predators, who in turn will attack civilians, perpetuating an ugly cycle. They could end up caught and in their distress, create unique hazards and unnatural phenomenon that WAND deals with from time to time. Common cultural parlance calls them poltergeists; distressed spirits can prey on others, possess people, or cause physical damage. They too tend to attract one another. One of the most famous incidents is in a cemetery in Edinburgh, and no amount of exorcism has removed the troubled mind because it's had almost four hundred years to poison the place. The Mackenzie Poltergeist was created after the massacre of several hundred people in a churchyard. Violent deaths aren't a good thing."

There; the risk is neatly laid out as she neatly adds, "This is why they are the experts in SHIELD and I stick to tracking the stars, for all that does." There shall be no inference for her arguing about whether Fitz or Jemma or Daisy are the best for jumping into a machine, one which she has absolutely limited experience with. The Framework was from a time she doesn't get much time remembering. Two hundred sixty thousand reasons why. "The question isn't a crude one, it's a valuable one considering the risks we are running. There are many patients and variables to consider. Matching up the psyches to the bodies should actually be the easiest of it, considering most of them can tell you who they are. If you can communicate with them, and that's something of the trick. We have records on file for the bodies, so that part is straightforward. Unfortunately, there will be /some/ who aren't repairable. The body remains, the mind does not."

Blackagar Boltagon has posed:
'A compounding threat built upon the current one does create a heavier burden of action,' Blackagar affirms before looking at Fitz and Simmons, offering a small smile. 'Do not mistake the question as lack of concern. There was a movie I watched with Jane, in which the stoic figure stated the needs of many out weigh needs of few. A simplistic yet sometimes necessary view.' From the bag of food, he pulls out a chocolate croissant wrapped in a napkin to offer to Jane, knowing full well her preference for breakfast pastries. The others are offered towards Jemma and Fitz, of course their mental focus may lead them to decline which has them set aside. 'I brought you your preferred Cuban blend coffee from Miami, I hope that is alright?'

Finishing with the food, he moves around to settle himself down and sit comfortably while watching the others talk, think and discuss, his own mind contemplating. After a few minutes, his hands lift again, the voice coming on a lag after as it processes the movements. 'Not to put a point on this, but if the mental energy; or soul, at present is contained in vessels, is this not just relocating to a new vessel. I suppose, my question is, is this a solution or buying time?' The question itself is directed more towards Jane.

Leopold Fitz has posed:
FitzSimmons, a force to be reckoned with once they've sunk their teeth in. Guided by 'right', they are sometimes the souls of the science department, always mindful of the 'coulds' and 'shoulds', and the conversations around them. Once their dedication to even one soul is started so succinctly (read: bluntly), Fitz is ready to move back to his earlier argument with Jemma.

It's at the touch on his shoulder that he rises to lay his hand atop, even briefly, his lips pressing together and he shakes his head. "I don't like it. No' one bit," is murmured in that soft burr. "Not one bit. And if it weren't for the fact you modified your avatar?" Fitz knows that the modifications were absolutely for the better, and that's all she's got on him for it. The best he can do, then, is stand guard for her and remain at the controls to make sure everything runs smoothly. Wild horses wouldn't be able to tear him away from her side.

A breath is exhaled softly, and his own hand drops even as she reclaims hers, and he turns, regarding the other 'pair' now. "Depending on the distance of transference, we can break them down into groups. It may be easier that way." He doesn't even want to consider those that are lost.. the ethical questions of 'what then?' isn't in his play book..

The coffee and chocolate pastries are given a wave; he's more a tea and bap for breakfast, or snack.. though he finishes it up with a 'No thank you' before addressing the source of the question. 'The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few'.. "Well, you could say that we're doin' just that. Puttin' ourselves in danger for that thousand." A philosopher engineer? Nah. "I don't believe in counting lives as acceptable losses and collateral damage."

Jemma Simmons has posed:
That soft smile makes an appearance as Jemma nods slowly. "Yes. I know." What does Jemma know? That absolutely Leo does not like the thought of her going in. That is certainly a mutual feeling. She doesn't want to go in either, but of the two, she is certainly the less emotionally compromised. In fact, out of everyone that has had experience in that virtual dreamscape, it is quite possible only Daisy and Jemma both can say that they weren't as emotionally traumatized. And that is only because they went in knowing the risks.

There is also the fact that Jemma knows that if it wasn't for her previous preparatory measures, there would be no way that Fitz would let her in. Yet, this is Jemma. She excels at preparation. And Leo knows it. She wouldn't be going in without a plan....and a backup plan to that plan...and a backup to the backup. "I assure you, everything will be mapped out exactly to ensure as little risk as possible."

Which means...there is still a big risk. But sometimes science is about taking that risk. And saving lives, too.

And Jemma knows where exactly the quote comes from. "This is a bit more than aligning dilithium crystals by hand to ensure the warp drive kicks on in time to save the starship. And, not as extreme. This is technology that we already have. It is proven to work. Also, it has been dormant since the initial incident. I would recommend a complete diagnostic, to ensure there are no rogue AI components left in the code. Daisy and I did succeed in defeating the final boss, as it were, but I have seen one too many video games to believe that AIDA is gone for good."

Jane Foster has posed:
"It's putting them back in their bodies to live the duration of their lives, for the full span given to them. The entity" - - she will not name it, though she full well knows the name -- "did this to torture a boy it possessed. Throwing souls out from their bodies was first a test to it, then a game to torment a child until he was broken down, nearly comatose. I believe this is a long-term solution that sets the patients to right." Jane offers that sad, knowing smile, her hands curling around the horns of the chocolate croissant. Damn straight, Blackagar wins in one, as she drifts to his side and leans in rather thankfully.

"We're all mortal. Every medical intervention potentially buys time. I suppose the right way to think of it is: are we doing something that helps a patient or does more harm than good? Are we inflicting deeper trauma for a higher gain? There are two patients who are conscious and swapped in their bodies. They are living in another person's shell, but can see their own. Their vehemence, to point of mental breakdown, to get back to who they were in a body they identified was compelling reason to act. Because this affirms their very identity, their existence. They're trapped in temporary forms, squirrels, mice, birds, ducks, rabbits and other such things. We aren't buying time if we can put them back. Those vessels won't last forever, they might not last a month without some serious assistance from other people. I'm certain that despite the risks, if Fitz and Jemma agree, this is a worthwhile proposal and allotment of resources. Though the numbers make it daunting, and it won't be the only results. We don't have all the answers. I know we might be overlooking possibilities, which is why your input matters. Everyone's does. I wasn't born a telepath who views such things as a matter of elegant surgery or stitching up clothes."

Nope, not born a telepath but definitely one now, the slender inklings of lived experience seeping through the bond to someone who can probably parse some of that data better than her. Though it might be a problem to just perfunctorily wrap up all the sensations and moments, then throw that straight at Fitz, say. He might have questions how he /knows/ that. Questions there are a dangerous thing.

<<I'm not saying we have to avoid venison and deer hunting season for the next thirty years, but we might want to keep that off the table. That was two days. They've now reached four under sedation.>> She lightly taps the gourmet pastry, nibbling on the laminated folds of flaky golden goodness while adding that mild point Blackagar's way. <<Bounding that fast through traffic was impressive. You should've seen the look on the drivers' faces.>>

Blackagar Boltagon has posed:
Blackagar's amusement flickers momentarily, something passing over his features while looking amongst the three scientists. There are the inner workings of well, humans, which are quite fascinating even a year later and the steadfast insistence on the preservation of so many of each even in the face of odds. 'It is to be admired,' his hands sign letting the words fill the space. 'What you do to protect, to preserve. For strangers no less. Foolish, perhaps. But admired.' A glance is given then towards Jane, am impression of emotions that ranges from pride to an almost reluctant acceptance.

'Knowing little of the situation, it is difficult to offer any assistance. I ... know of a powerful mind but it is not one I would trust with anything.' Blackagar adds on the last with a look lifting to Jemma, 'But if you wish it, Jemma...'

'Maximus /has/ inquired about you. I could arrange an introduction, formally. I do not know if his strengths would be of any assistance and I would heavily warn against it, but if desperation arises..'

<<You know I do not believe in hunting that which cannot defend itself adequately.>> The thought filters back towards Jane, <<If I can be of assistance... you will let me know. But I fear this is one area where my strength is of no use.>>

Leopold Fitz has posed:
It's a moment, and Fitz' gaze lingers on Jemma before he exhales. He's giving ground, but not giving up completely. It'll be revisited, have no doubt, but most likely in the silence of their own lab. He'll obviously insist upon being on the outside, serving as support and guardian of she who must be protected.

Jane's explanation needs no addition; she's laid it out perfectly, and obviously in a way that Blackagar can understand it. Good enough because, well.. Fitz has a heart as well as a head, and emotions certainly do play a part. It takes a lot for him to buckle down and find that dispassionate side of himself, which is probably why The Doctor scares him. It's now a vivid reminder.

The aside, however, given to Jemma is met with a rise of his brows, and his head cocking. There's a half-step to the side, ostensibly leading him to being more at her side than in front. Shoulder to shoulder, as it were. He doesn't know the name Maximus, and there's a glance back and forth.. who? What?

"I'm sure we'll be fine with what we have." It's stated simply, and sounds the end of any argument of 'but..' and 'and..'.

Jane Foster has posed:
Jane munches on the croissant until it's little more than a memory. She will need to change her gloves and get resuited to go out there, but she seems content. She stays quiet for a good long time, settled in beside Blackagar. Only the lift of her eyebrows says much about his suggestion with Maximus.

"It could be worse. Two of the most profound tricksters on the planet in spitting range of one another?" Idle comments, while she succumbs to eyeing up the coffee. It will do, a grace of generosity to hold off the day's weights. Her pallor is still too fair, a warning sign to anyone familiar with how damage manifests in her existence. "The Framework is a good start. You've got my blessing on that, Fitz, just tell me what you need. I won't argue between you and Jemma deciding who runs the risk -- as long as Daisy is overseeing outside too. We need that insight." Her shoulders lift slightly, her thoughts riposting Blackagar's. <<I can't do anything at all either. Anything that hurts them hurts me.>>