14606/Mead of --Nevermind.

Mead of --Nevermind.
Date of Scene:	04 April 2023
Location:	Airfield: Triskelion
Synopsis:	Mike gets properly smashed with Asgardians. Proclaims things. Is useless.
Cast of Characters:	Michael Erickson, Natasha Romanoff, Jessica Drew

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Michael Erickson has posed:
    Now the presence of an alien starship on the airfield has become fairly well-known now that Michael basically lives in its hangar - a proper bird in a nest, so to speak. And tonight, the bird is squawking.

    Singing. The bird is /singing/. Sorry.

    It isn't English that's coming from behind the slightly parted hangar doors - it isn't Shi'ar, either, because none among them sing. It's...well, it's possibly Nordic, possibly not. But it's full of the spirit of battle and heroism, of adventure and fellowship. And, because he /is/ a bird, Michael's tenor voice is light and handsome as it twists these syllables from the air. Singing. Imagine. Singing about battle.

    And where is he? He's laid out on the concrete under the sleek raptor-yacht that he's taken up residence in, shirtless with alien military tattoos on his forearms and shoulder, his necktie tied about his head like a bandanna. Singing into the air like a proper Viking. Space Viking. /Asgardian/.

    Lord.

Natasha Romanoff has posed:
It takes a few moments while she's walking along to reognize the voice, the tune being done, and the language. It's less a testament to michael's singing abilities than it is to Natasha's fluency over with those particular languages. "Agent Erickson.. Good to have you back with us. I take it you've read the briefings on current events?" She would inquire over to him then while glancing at the starship.
    "How fares your refit of the craft? Proceeding on schedule? We.. May have come onto a degree of heavy salvage that may be of use. Admittedly from another species' designs."

Jessica Drew has posed:
A discreet message on the office chat system had flashed on her screen from the hangar crew.

"You might want to check on your asset," was the terse message.

Terse and mysterious, Jess decides as she walks down the hall to take the elevator to the roof and the Airfield. Texting back, in the elevator, "Do you care to explain?"

"Just check on him," comes back.

Her work shoes scuff on the concrete leading to the hangar housing, Michael Erickson's ship. She makes a face because through the hangar doors, she can hear a radio playing. But, it's not a radio. It's...just plain weird.

The sound of a familiar voice asking a question, definitively draws her in.

Michael Erickson has posed:
    He doesn't sit up - instead, he openes one eye to peer at Natasha, though he /does/ stop singing. "Were I not of SHIELD," proclaims Michael, "I would be in Svartalfheim even now collecting a necklace of ears." Slurring as he says it, the matter-of-fact violence of a man drunk enough not to worry about niceties. Like a Klingon. "As it ha-...what is word. Happens. As it happens, instead I go and I will steal back her soul." In a mood for heroic delusions, perhaps, our man from another galaxy.

    Now, finally, he raises his head to squint at the face peering at him from between the hangar doors. "...is that another angel?"

Natasha Romanoff has posed:
Natasha Romanoff would glance over her hsoulder, "I believe that he's quite taken with you, Agent Drew. And you're in no status to go on an assault into a hostile pocket dimension on a sepaate plane of existence. You've not spent any time performing proper reconaissance, research and analysis of enemy capabilities and tactics.. All these must be remedied before you send them to meet whatever God made them in the first place."

Jessica Drew has posed:
Jess glances over her shoulder, looking for the Asgardian Valkyrie, the closest thing to an angel that she knew of on this earth. Natasha's words earns a chuff of laughter. "Do you think? Crikey, is he -drunk-?" Which is near impossible. She had seen him put back a bottle of vodka like it was water.

dEyebrows knitted she listens to Natasha's very reasonable assessment of battle planning. She thinks for a moment, trying to put together things that are likely above her pay grade.

Coming closer, "Did you say Svartalfhiem? Been hanging with the Asgardians, have you?" One battle ops against the things had not made her eager to repeat the experience though she manned guns during the last decisive mission at the Starport battle.

Michael Erickson has posed:
    "I am not /drunk/." He leans up on one elbow, eagle head and serial gylphs shining up at Nat from his shoulder. Such indignation. "I am..." Michael pauses to squint. "Ah. Yes. I am /inspired./ Inspired. By /mead/."

    Natasha gets a squint, too. "You women are all ridiculously attractive in this organization. I assume is...ish. Ish metagenes." That said, he sits up fully now, well and truly blasted, and points imperiously at the two fellow agents with his brows lifting high. "I...am going to get Jane back. Even if...I have to batter down th' gates of Helheim and set fire to that ridiculous boat. Made of fingernails. Who does that. /Fingernails./ I am gon' get her back and you two, you are gonna help me."

Natasha Romanoff has posed:
Natasha Romanoff would fold her hands together, "OF course." Natasha doesn't have the slightest idea of what's involved in retrieving someone from a primordial plane of death from a death goddess. That's presuming she's not in Valhalla, which is an entirely different thing of course.
    "And inspired is one thing. But you hve to do your reconaissance first. It's unbecoming of one of your trainingand experience to neglect such preparation before you go on a liberation spree." Namely liberating elves from thier lives.

Jessica Drew has posed:
Jess exchanges a glance with Natasha and nods. "Drunk." Then, gazes down at Michael, a smile playing on her lips, "Inspired are you? Mead does that to people, I understand."

She smoothes her skirt behind her and limberly squats to look at him, "No, so sorry to be a disappointment to you. I got my mother's looks. I'm the spitting image of my grandmother, apparently. No," she turns her wrists up, "I just got some ishy spider genes."

Then, head turned up to look at Natasha, "Where did he get this notion? Rescuing her from Hel? Seriously?" A thought occurs to her, "Are we planning a mission?"

Michael Erickson has posed:
    "Inspired," he proclaims. "I was drinking with Master Horse. I will have a /plan./" This Michael affirms, nodding once as he considers sitting up and gives it up as a bad idea. "Of course she might be where...she wants to be. I don't know how souls work. If she is, we leave her be. But still we burn down Hel if she's there. It will be..." A pause, and he clears his throat, eyes suddenly shining. "A /legend/."

    Someone is a bit susceptible to the power of Asgard-mead, apparently.

    And then, with this, Michael frowns at Natasha, having just gotten around to something she's said a few seconds past. "Of course I would do proper reconnaissance, who do you take me for. I've been doing this as long as you've been alive!"

Natasha Romanoff has posed:
Natasha Romanoff would fold her hands, "Agent Erickson, do forgive me, but in your current state you're speaking of a conversation you had with Master Horse. I'm merely ensuring that you're int eh right state to fully work on the requirements for a strike force. Do of course consider me interested, as I'm sure will be the Lady Sif and several other members of SHIELD and the Avengers should the request be me."

Yes, she knows what Jane has called her 'horse', but that doesn't mean that she can't at least get a little teasing in.

Jessica Drew has posed:
"He's very old, you know," she says drily. "He almost give Peggy Carter a run for her money."

With an odd look at Michael for something he said earlier, "Where you drinking mead with a horse, Michael?" Shaking her head in dismay, "Do they stable horses and feed them mead?"

The agent, first eyes Michael dubiously then turns them on Agent Romanoff as if to ask if they do have something in the ops pipeline concerning Hel and Jane Foster.

Michael Erickson has posed:
    "Bah." Michael flops back onto the concrete, closing his eyes again in a fit of pique. "I don't care if they want me to do it or not! I'll go alone if I have to, SHIELD be damned. I'll quit if I have to. She's the first friend I made on this benighted wor...world, I won't leave her floating in the Void."

    His eyes snap open again and he looks at Natasha, then. "Every time I don my armor my soul hangs from a tree in the heart of the Void, did you know?" He says these words with sudden, perfect clarity. Haunted. "Never would I let any of you go there when you die. Never."

    And like all drunks, he waxes from somber to insufferable again in a moment, settling back down on the floor. "Master Horse isn't just a horse, hal--Jes'ka. He's a /Horse/." It makes sense, you see. His firm nod and crossed arms proclaims it so.

Natasha Romanoff has posed:
Natasha Romanoff would shake her head over at Jessica's glance. This was the first she had heard anything on the matter. A light nod over of a request for her to keep up wiht Michael. She was his handler after all.
    "There will be something senta fter her. WHether it is by SHIELD, or the Avengers.. By anyone. It will be done." She would smile very slightly.
    "We will go after her in some form or another, and if she wishes to leave, the opportunity will be given."

Jessica Drew has posed:
Jess gives Natasha a pointed looked when he wails about doing it alone and quitting SHIELD. Quietly,"Let's talk later, if you have a moment, Agent."

After a short, abrupt breath, she focuses on him, "We know you would, Michael."

A helpless smile crosses her lips at his last proclamation. "So, I've heard and you actually got to talk to him."

Michael Erickson has posed:
    "Well. So long as you know." He's gone back to closing his eyes, now, and crosses his arms across his chest and takes a deep breath. "All right. I am done being insuf'rable. You may...pretend you did not see me like this. 'Specially if I remember t'morrow."

Natasha Romanoff has posed:
The nod would be replied over from Natasha to Jessica, along with a very, very faint glance of apology. "We'll have a plan to go after her. Don't worry." That would be a promise. Even if Natasha wouldn't be part of it herself directly.

Jessica Drew has posed:
Hands on her knees, Jess gracefully pushes herself upright. "Are you comfortable there, Michael?" Smiling down at him, "We can both pretend we didn't see you like this."

She makes a gesture to the door with her thumb and ducks her head to Natasha in invitation.

Michael Erickson has posed:
    "Mmm." An eye opens again. "Jes'ka," he asks, pronouncing her name as though she were more one of his own people. "Will you stay a bit?"

Natasha Romanoff has posed:
Natasha Romanoff would glance over at Jessica with an 'it's fine' expression on her face before nodding, and whether or not Jessica is with her, going to depart.

Jessica Drew has posed:
"Wait a moment," Jess walks the other agent to the hangar door. "I'll stop by your office when you're in. Maybe tomorrow?"

Michael Erickson has posed:
    Michael flops back onto the concrete, properly useless in the moment.