1641/So, About Those Nazis...

So, About Those Nazis...
Date of Scene:	12 May 2020
Location:	R and D Labs: Triskelion
Synopsis:	Nazis frame Quake, Dane and Jane decide to find the truth. Stupid Nazis.
Cast of Characters:	Daisy Johnson, Jane Foster, Dane Whitman

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Daisy Johnson has posed:
Soooo..., It had been an awkward enough arrival at SHIELD. Specially since Daisy hadn't really read the news before walking in. What's with all the frowns and sour faces?! But she was feeling sleepy herself and hadn't had her coffee yet. Maybe that's what was wrong with these people...

But she quickly picked up on what was going on when she began thumbing through her tablet. Quake assaulting some New Jersey bank?! Not it!

So she did what any good Quake would do, which was to send a few messages to a few people of her trust, a trust that had been gained in that last mission against the shadowy creature, to meet her at R and D and then she went through a few less used corridors to get up to the labs and bunk up to begin studying up the weapon they had apprehended a while back from those nazis that were copying powers. It had to be related.

Of course, on hindsight, she hadn't sent a message to Jemma... Did she expect her to live here in the lab?! Well, yes. But not finding her here was a surprise, so belatedly she sends one over to her as well, hoping she can come over soon.

Jane Foster has posed:
First, benefits to having no powers mean that supporting people *with* powers becomes that much easier. What would a weapon copying other powers do against a regular plain Jane? Tickle her?

Jane has spent more time in the Triskelion than she normally does, something to do with that busy horror-show in Metropolis. Her science may have suffered some as a result, which is why she totes along her laptop and responds to a heap of email whenever meetings and debriefings allow her. The teacup she totes is a metal travel mug with a plastic lid, and the contents aren't nearly strong enough for facing down actual, honest-to-God bank robbers and Nazis.

Too bad beggars cannot be choosers. She stifles a yawn behind her hand -- it's been one of those weeks and it is barely hump day -- and trudges into Jemma's lab. A white coat over her usual civilian attire pays respect to Jemma's taste for sterility and tidiness, though she pauses to leave a small tin of tea pulled from her bag on a counter. A gift? Maybe. Chances are she will be drinking from it? You bet. Still, when Daisy comes into sight, she offers that gentle wave.

"Morning, Agent." No signs of disgust or distrust there, even if her voice is a bit soft and scratchy. Lack of sleep and its uneventful recovery will do that. She still wears the splint on her left wrist but the bruising on her fingers is coming down nicely. They're free to be wiggled a bit. "How are you holding up?"

Daisy Johnson has posed:
Quake, being the rapscallion that she is, has no respect for such sterility. She hasn't even changed into her uniform yet! Being in her civilian clothing, which is just some black jeans, shirt, a leather jacket atop. She is very glad she decided against bringing a hoodie. That might had went bad because, well, she could had just looked like that masked Nazi-Quake. Small blessings...

She is sitting down on a chair, hunched over her tablet when Jane walks in. She peers up and then slowly gets up to her feet, clearly favoring her right leg. "Hello, Jane." first names and all that. She offers a small wave in return. "Good that you could make it." a tentative smile to her lips. Yet even with all that there is a clear displeasure to the woman's demeanor, a tension to her shoulders. Whatever is going on has left her rather upset.

"I just learned that apparently I may be a bank robber and a nazi. So.., not great." A frown coming to her lips, followed by a sigh. "Apparently someone is playing with my powers. I am hoping to figure out a way to stop it."

A gesture is made towards a sleek-looking 'weapon' on the counter, the design almost like an oversized pistol, a small monitor on the side and and injector of sorts which seems to be empty right now.

Jane Foster has posed:
Jane's the sort of person to base opinions on more than summary secondhand knowledge. A good thing, considering the Asgardians might have been met with a glare or a laugh at thinking they were actual followers of a dead religion preserved by a man named Snorri about seven hundred years prior. And who would have had egg on their face then? So does Daisy receive the benefit of the doubt, with Jane raising her travel mug in a salute of sorts. She sets that down beside her laptop on the counter, pulling up a stool or a chair as might be available. The slight squeak of the feet dragging over the lab floor, polished to a shine, is an unfortunate byproduct of someone intending to make herself comfortable but limited somewhat in doing that. "Have you seen the medical personnel for your leg? I hope that wasn't related to the shadow creature, was it? I can give you a once-over if you need to head out shortly, though not the same degree as one of the doctors would."

Her hair tucked behind her ear threatens to come free of the loose set of pins holding it in place, which inevitably distracts her by forcing her to push it away with her knuckles. "I saw the report this morning. Robbery and neo-Nazi activities? That suggests you ran afoul of the wrong person. Clearly they're quite upset, and trying to trigger a media response. Fortunately SHIELD must have a PR department to monitor social media and respond accordingly. To say nothing of your own skills." Her lips tighten slightly as she glances to the weapon in question. "What are the specs? Did you recover that and then it led to the news stories? I slept almost all of yesterday after making my debriefings."

Daisy Johnson has posed:
If anything, there's always a good amount of stools to be had at the labs. Because noone imagines spending their nights doing SCIENCE and standing all the time! They are also fantastic for snoozing on. Daisy can attest.

"I have." A nod given. "It didn't hit bone, should be back to shape in no time but ..." then a pause at the question about it being related to the shadow creature. She shakes her head. "No, was related to an ambush I was set upon the following night." she brings up a report on her tablet which she sends over for Jane to read. Which most likely will bring light (or at least a bit) on the whole issue.

"Right now I am hoping I can get this handled before there's more .., activities of this kind. Mockingbird is aware of the mission, she was there too when I was ambushed."

A gesture to the weapon, "This was retrieved that night, the nazi that attacked me at the time used this to inject himself with powers." she turns her nose a little. "From what I could understand the weapon somehow read my powers and it allowed him to inject himself with it." she points at the injector on the weapon.

"I took him out, but somehow someone else was able to replicate this. I suspect a transmitter of some kind? But I haven't digged into it yet. Was hoping you'd be able to help."

Jane Foster has posed:
The grateful smile for the report requires a few minutes of interrupted reading. Jane could multitask, but then critical detail might be lost in the meantime. She listens to Daisy until the other agent finishes the explanation, and then she turns her attention to the summary laid out. Dark eyes flick back and forth as she processes the information, eventually a frown touching her lips. It grows quite a bit deeper by the end.

"This is a well-written dossier," she replies finally at the end of her little ceremonious handover of the tablet. "Thank you. Salient facts and details, important notes, and clarification. We need more people to follow your method. Mine are too long as a rule, but this is excellent. I see the concern then. You took a sniper bullet to the leg? How are you still standing?" A sound of wonder radiates across her lips, but then, she's talking to a woman who can make tectonic plates dance far away from a plate margin and tumble more than a few inches of bedrock to display her irritation. As displays go, that's pretty intense. "Those were ugly odds. Between you and Agent Morse, things turned out quite well."

She leans over to look at the gun then, pulling out a pair of fine nitrile gloves. They go on easy; she doesn't wear rings with gemstones that would tear them. The /splint/ is another matter, but she takes her time, working it left to right. "So it has a scanner principle at a distance, and then it can replicate whatever it reads into an /injectible/ form? Oh, that's vile. How long this lasts, we need to get Jemma in front of." First name basis there. "Pardon, Agent Simmons. Agent Fitz and Agent Whitman might want a look at the innards of how it comes together, though I have serious questions about how it detects the power structure. The ramifications for this aren't minor at all."

She inclines her head. "How far away were they, the ones with guns like this? Are we working within a certain range?"

Daisy Johnson has posed:
"A mix of the wonderful medical staff here and ..." Daisy wiggles her fingers a little. Magic?! No, most likely her powers at work.. Vibrations could do quite a lot afterall! Even if she hadn't explored it to the maximum as of yet. But she soon is back to sitting down on her snoozing stool. Certainly not lasting for the whole time that Jane is reading on the report.

"They weren't intent on killing, but wanting to force me to use my powers." she says with a nod. "Otherwise I might not be here right now." which makes her frown again. How easily she had fallen into an ambush. Something to rectify in the future.

When Jane goes and corrects herself to using the formal names she grins. "I am sure we can all use first names around here by now, mmm?" a brief chuckle escaping her lips. "Because I did notice Jemma using your first name during the shadow mission. One of the first times she did!" it seems to ease some of the tension too.

Though quickly enough her attention is back on the matter at hand. "They only had one of those guns." she says. "They were close. At most 3 or 4 meters away at time." she informs. "It powered up completely when I used my powers more destructively to take out two of the men. Yet while they didn't seem to suffer the side-effects of my powers." like breaking her wrists if she didnt use those gloves! ".. the constant use was making his body deteriorate."

Jane Foster has posed:
Those beautiful stools deserve attention. Sitting on the comfortable perch that no longer requires her to be on her feet, Jane sinks down gratefully and she reclaims the travel mug. Something to indulge herself with, a thin excuse for a few more moments of enjoyment before back into the fray.

"I wonder how many of these might be produced. Is it a single prototype or mass produced? It certainly introduces problems for putting powered agents into the field, moreover if others are going to be subjected to the same risks." Nodding to Daisy, she gives a quick assessment of the gun. "May I? Weapons tech isn't my general skill set, but I understand certain engineering principles well enough to vary the overall composition. What I want to know more is the injection point. I bet they're using a serum of some sort, but /how/? Is it an inert carrier for whatever is printed within at a molecular level? Or is it simply magic? If that's the case, we need WAND. I am not a wizard."

And wizards, as a rule, tend to be jerks. See file: Loki. She grimaces a little at the thought and then looks back to Daisy. "I /am/ glad that you are okay though. You did a very good job in the field in Metropolis and besides that, you were shot! By cretins who were hunting you, like you were some kind of fox. Except they wanted to have red fur like it's a new trend. Ugh, neo-Nazis. What do you think their play is? This sounds personal, like they were directly targeting you."

Daisy Johnson has posed:
More than jerks! Quake still remembers well what happened at the Triskelion during the battle for New York! Good thing she was still mostly a keyboard warrior at the time than a Quake warrior. "I thought all technological folks thought of magick as science that has yet to be explained." she says about Jane's comment on not being a wizard.

But then the request for the weapon she nods her head, "And sure, go ahead. I know weapons, but mostly shooting them. Some tech but my thing is computers not exactly these." she gestures. "There was a serum within the weapon at the time. Empty now, but maybe some leftovers can still be found." she suggests. Though the mention that it may be mass produced makes her frown. "I really hope these can't be mass produced.., so far there have been no more reports about attacks but..." she shakes her head, not wanting to really imagine the consequences...

"We all did a great job back there.." she then addresses the shadow attack on metropolis, smiling faintly. "I was half-hoping to see the disco death ball hanging up here in the labs in celebration, you know?"

The last question then makes her pause, she rubbing at her chin. "I think they were just wanting to find one person with powers, it didn't seem they were coming after me in particular. Though I suppose I may have turned it personal when six of their guys were taken out between me and Bobbi."

Jane Foster has posed:
"Magic and science most definitely are not the same thing. Advanced technology may seem magical, but people who actually shift and work the functions of the universe by thinking about it definitely aren't scientists," opines the astrophysicist with a laugh. "I believe Asimov was headed in an interesting direction, but they exist on two different planes there. Linking them is a little less simple than that. But again, no sorcerer am I, so the philosophy of it is the closest we get."

She picks up the gun, looking it over from all angles with a light, careful touch used to playing with extremely expensive technological equipment that won't be replaced if it falls on the floor. For that reason, she maneuvers it over the counter. "We need to get a few traces of the serum inside. It will determine whether we're dealing with biological soup, a carrier, or something else. It might be a reactive liquid for all I know, something that proves receptive to certain kinds of powers. We don't know whether it applies to all of them, right? You mentioned they waited until you went destructive. Maybe it needs a certain concentration before it can start to detect and replicate the effect. It might also have limitations, say, based on blasts. I can't imagine how it might operate with some of those latent abilities others have. How would it replicate the endurance of an Asgardian? Or the function of simply knowing something, if you are empowered by a different being? I hesitate to say god. Spirit, entity like our ugly shadow guy in the mirror? Spit balling ideas here, cold as the comfort may be. If we approached this as a recursive effort, though..."

Her tablet might be the next place to go. "They are robbing large-scale financial institutions for liquid assets, right? Cash, for the most part. There might be a pattern to that. Most banks don't have that kind of funding on hand, and those which do closer to New York are very well guarded. Wonder if they plan on striking outlying towns and cities that act as financial hubs. We might be able to narrow down targets that way, but it still begs the question: why?" Jane's thoughts are purely given aloud, dancing around concepts that linger in the mind. "They did set a trap though. They laid waiting for someone empowered to show up. How could they know it would be you? Or SHIELD? Opportunity or were they hoping to catch Superman? I bet that would've gone badly. Or Captain America. People have wanted a sample of the formula that made him since... well, Howard Stark, right?"

Daisy Johnson has posed:
"Yea, no finger-wiggling here either." Says Daisy, the one that can call up earthquakes through her control of vibrations! But she is smiling faintly when she says it.

The gun, it can be noted, is very well made from within, a masterful job really, hand crafted and not just something made in some backyard shop with a hammer. The kind of precision that tells whoever crafted this gun is some type of perfectionist.

"It depends on how it .., reads.., powers. I am no expert, but I am guessing it mutates or somehow changes someone to become Inhuman? I would imagine that it wouldn't work on a God like the Asgardians, considering the differences which exist between us. But then again, I may be assuming. It's never a great thing to assume during these. What I know is that they didn't become -like- me. They did not have the crippling side-effects that I had when I first began to use my powers. Or even the ones I have now."

She then goes silent for a small while as Jane gets to the tablet, listening on. "Finding likely targets would be a good thing. I wonder if we could use Jemma's DWARFs to try and track my power signature... We did use it against the shadow creatures." she gives it a thought. "Maybe setting them off into those targets we consider as being most likely as being hit."

Though for those last questions she doesn't seem to have much of an answer either, shaking her head. "We still need to figure out the whole picture.. They want money, yes. But that's most likely not their end goal. These guys seemed like fanatics. Real Nazis.."

Jane Foster has posed:
Hey, finger wiggling for earthquakes is amazing and terrifying. Just ask California, Indonesia, and Italians by Mount Etna. On second thought, don't go near Mount Etna. That's begging for trouble.

Jane blows out a soft breath, putting the gun down. "Really, this thing needs to be scanned and imaged for us to have a better appreciation of the mechanics. As such, I'm trusting in someone with a higher pay grade to come and examine it deeply. I am thoroughly prepared to be creeped out by its existence, and the fact someone actually jumped the hurdles to make it happen. Imagine 3D printing injectible powers. If it is limited to Inhumans, that's still absolutely frightening. I mean... we're still talking a monstrous stalking of innocent people. But it needs an Inhuman subject, which limits the pool more. I don't imagine they are entirely as common as blue eyes or red hair. Are they? Second thought, you don't have to answer that. On the whole though, they managed to get your powers and they can use them with... I'm assuming at best rudimentary finesse, right? Were there any signs from what you learned of that they showed any particular skill? Or is it all lash out and hope they work?"

It's a crude question in phrasing and form, but the point is sound. Still. "Listen to me. I'm sorry. I do not want to make you feel like a Guinea pig. You aren't. You have proven yourself a person SHIELD trusts, and thus earned your way."

Dane Whitman has posed:
"Hey, sorry I'm late." Dane Whitman steps into the room, looking considerably better-for-wear from the last day or two, thankfully someone *CoughcoughprobablyJanecougcough* seems to have forwarded a fair bit of notes on the subject towards Dane's tablet, which he's reading more so than paying direct attention to folks, though he seems to have overheard at least some of the conversation since when he looks up he notes:

"They're Nazis, seems like Captain America might be a natural target, yeah, for a whole host of reasons."

He sets the tablet aside and moves to take a closer look at the weapon himself, "Fitzsimmons needs..need? Wow, that portmanteau makes for weird grammar...to take a hard look at this thing. I can scan it, though...hopefully they won't mind me touching some of their equipment."

Is this whole thing massively disturbing? You bet...best way to deal with that is to pretend like it's a matter of course.

Daisy Johnson has posed:
Daisy opens her mouth, as if she was going to answer on the number of Inhumans, but then closes it, just letting an half-smirk crop up to her features. She juggles a bit out of the way when she notices Dane coming in. Which means she makes her stool roll a bit to the side. She doesn't even get up to greet the man! But in her defense her leg is killing her enough as is. "Fashionably late is a thing, Sir Dane." she does smile at the man though, perhaps thankful that he came in. A nod given. "Yea, the report was sent with clearance to every agent on duty. Cap will have access." she says, then a nod is given to the weapon. "Feel free to fight over Jane for it." she tells him, though her tone is a joking one.

Eyes then go to Jane again, "They were able to use them almost instantly, and they mainly just used it in the most basic way, which is to send straight shockwaves.. It's not like you need a lot of training to do that." she murmurs. Though her smile does widen a touch at those last words from Jane, "I think I am now figuring out how dangerous it is to have someone with my kind of powers on the other side of the fence. I have no problem in being a guinea pig if we can make sure these guys can be found ASAP. And to think they are using something they stole from me ..., uff..." but the lab doesn't start shaking even if she seems upset. She has a good control on those already!

Jane Foster has posed:
Being that Dane was the one who keeled over unconscious after sealing a mirror, he certainly wins the prize for best recovery in a short period of time. Peggy Carter is undoubtedly a swift second in line, but her biological stew has a greater deal of damage to repair, no wonder he comes out on top. "I mean, not to put too fine a point on it, but Nazis /are/ Nazis. They generally have blood purity and world domination in mind?" Distasteful subject! Time to get some more tea or at least hot water, brushing past Agent Whitman with a nudge of her uninjured arm beckoning as a hello to him. Her stool is vacated, but if he takes it, Dane is going to have her sitting atop him because of the comfort factor. "My concern on this one originates from the source of how they are replicating powers, the range, and the biomorphology required to pull something like that off. We have someone who is clearly at the top of their game in biochemistry, bioengineering, and then plain mechanical engineering at that. You've got to have some notion of whether this was ever proxied on the open market, at least in schemata form?" she asks Dane.

Tea processing means hot water, not using any of Jemma's beakers or bunsen burners. But hey, she can manage. She'll use /Fitz's/ bunsen burner! Maybe. Or just a standard burner to get some water onto a boil. "Really not a fan of these guys, can I be clear? If there's a chance to dash into a lab for proper corporate espionage, and seizing their materials, then someone probably needs to arrange that. I don't like the concept of untrained men running around producing sine waves. Those things travel. Even a basic YouTube video would show them how to get it going. You seem to have a much better command over yourself, and that's a benefit. Given neither of us fly and there is a large building atop us that, while probably earthquake rated, isn't rated for a person who can keep those quakes going for minutes at a time. Reminds me, if you ever feel a bit peckish or angry," she beams a smile at Daisy, "just tell me and I can keep a snack or a friendly shoulder open for you, right?"

Dane Whitman has posed:
"Not this specifically, but there's pretty much been a global arms race for metahuman powers ever since Captain America came on the scene. Wouldn't be completely surprised if this ended up coming off of some nation or another's abandoned research. Orrr it could just be AIM or HYDRA screwing around with their usual antics and getting back to their roots in the latter case." If Jane is completed with her own inspection, Dane does move to set up the scanner to start with that process.

"Either way...lot of testing that needs to be done, and while I'm capable enough it'd probably be best to have the dedicated experts trying the deep analysis." He smiles ruefully and sighs a bit, "The bad guys couldn't have waited until next week to have this kinda breakthrough?"

Daisy Johnson has posed:
The scanning will indeed show that perfect craftsmanship, hand-made. Does it mean there aren't many out there? Perhaps. Along with it there is also a transmitter of some kind, deactivated for the moment, but perhaps it could be tweaked back into being active.

"Well, you can start by sharing that tea." Daisy says with a grin but then shakes her head slowly. "My days of being a danger are long past." even if the memories of it are still rather vivid inside her. It makes that grin falter some but she then shrugs herself out of those thoughts, letting out a long sigh. "I am hoping we are able to figure out a way to track them. Either catch them when they are attempting one of their robberies, or something else. If they go about trying out the powers somewhere to get a better grasp of them we could find them in that manner too. Seismic readers?"

A glance then given to Dane. "Evil never sleeps and all that. So we can't sleep either!" which means lots of coffee being drank. Someone is making a fortune out of this...

Jane Foster has posed:
"Tracking options. Let's be clear, your powers would be fairly noticeable with this. We don't have an anticipated lifespan of how long this can manage or whether they just load up another vial and reproduce the effect from cartridge memory. It must have some kind of processor functionality in there, otherwise I don't see how it would pass on the necessary material. Even CRISPr in a bottle needs something that isn't dependent on human intervention to operate. It cannot selectively start tagging DNA or RNA," Jane muses aloud. She scoots her stool closer to see what Dane is up to, watching him handle the scanner array. "If Jemma consents, the DWARFs may be our best bet. Since the dwarves I deal with tend to be brown or white, therefore about as useful to this process as an apron on a cat." She slides off the stool and ghosts past Dane, hunting for another mug that might count as suitable for tea. The hot plate apparatus bubbles away and she can be quite clear about the boiling water and its suitability for drinking.

"AIM was my first guess. HYDRA resources don't cause me any concern, not at all." Her nose wrinkles a little about this, given neither organization is welcome. "Face it, Dane. You had your nap, now we must do the grunt work. Next stop, trouble." Rounding her lips, she's about to possibly blow him a raspberry but gets back to the task of tea making. The tin popped open, she selects a pyramidal bag and puts it in the cup, then pours hot water. Repeat for her travel mug. "So how can you catch them? Other than waiting for another robbery, we could try sourcing where the contents came from. That's no real guarantee of finding it if they are common. Look out for earthquakes in the metro area given we have a network of Richter scales basically everywhere. That requires liaising with the USGS, probably a few universities. If they're practicing, those quakes will show up. The machines are sensitive enough to detect even tiny tremors and it's even more telling if they're localized. New York sits on the quieter side of the continent, it's not like noticeable quakes happen in quick succession around here very often."

She turns to the tablet and pops up a website, zooming in with spreading fingers on a map of Long Island, Connecticut, lower New York. "See? I can even filter this down several times over and get the historical data for the past couple days. This is the civilian side; the federal probably has a lot more details. Better yet, you can rely on the different partners of NATO to detect it. Canada, Britain, Australia, France: all have their own sensors. I /doubt/ we'd get very much fi they are using this small scale, but how do you track? See if we have any clusters, overlap epicenters, and from there it's basic math. "

Dane Whitman has posed:
"Well, there's a transmitter here. We might be able to backtrace that somehow. Though we'll want to do a much closer look to make sure turning it on doesn't trigger some kind of self-destruct or something." Dane glances towards Jane at her commentary on the "nap" and chuckles, shaking his head in amusement, "That's why we get paid the bi..er...kinda mediumish bucks, I guess."

"So it's expert construction. Looks handcrafted...not showing immediate signs of AIM craftsmanship but that doesn't mean it's impossible by any stretch. Could always have picked up a few new mad scientists somewhere along the way. Or changed out their machining hardware. Though my understanding is that there are a few solo operator illicit meta-tech dealers out there, as well. The Fixer and the Tinkerer spring to mind." Somebody paid attention to their supervillain dossier studies!

Daisy Johnson has posed:
"Wait, you guys are getting paid...?" Daisy asks Whitman, brows arched, that same amused little quirk of a smile on her lips. The examination of the weapon makes Daisy nod, arms folded, glancing over the results on the scanner, "Lots of good ideas here... We could look into those supervillains for sure, see what they are up to." eyes then roaming back to Jane. She then whispers in a low tone. "Call her by her first name and I am sure she will consent into lending out those DWARFs. Or even further, to pilot them herself!" a wink before she leans back on her stool.

And then a slooow process of getting up to her feet. "Lets try and set up something soon to go after these nazis then. The guy that I knocked out is in a coma due to that massive use of powers, but we should have a blood sample here soon. Maybe that will help discern more on how they use the powers but..." and she looks at her phone, sighing.

"Getting called up by my superior officer..., oh great... I will be catching you guys later on. Thank you again for your help. I will owe you one." and she seems quite earnest about it. Then it's time to begin shuffling out to find Agent Thornton. Such joy.

Jane Foster has posed:
"That suggests she doesn't get paid until she gets the money back. How droll, using the transmitter. Why bother worrying when you can hack the signal?" Jane laughs softly under her breath, unwilling to risk the chance of Dane being too interrupted. "I come up with a bold plan to measure earthquakes that even an intern can do, and you're talking all SCIENCE! at me." She exclaims it lightly, the way Fitzsimmons and Daisy do, for there cannot be too much concern otherwise on blending them together. "Too many supervillains. Darling, I'm going to temind you that you were supposed to be recuperating and resting quietly until at least Thursday. That went right out the window, didn't it? All right, pass me over some of the records and let me see what I can do. At least I should be able to make a good guess at what the compounds in the vial were and how feasible it is to repeat. Then we can cause earthquakes, said no one ever in this building."

Yeah. Small concern. Wee one. "Sushi for dinner? I know a place not too far into Yonkers." She's using it as an excuse to say Yonkers, certainly. "Or down by Cloisters, which isn't terribly far. The person that she knocked out is at least a marker we can compare against. Pity if he turns out to be the maker, mm? So many questions."

Dane Whitman has posed:
"No guarantee it'll work." Dane says of the transmitter. "Double-tracking via other methods is hardly a bad idea. Maybe start from the sight of last night's robbery and see if we can trace a pattern moving outward from there? That might speak to the time interval of continued power usage, too, if it's temporary at all." He adds, "Though I'd imagine it almost has to be. The genetic rewrites required to make it permanent wouldn't make for instantaneous usage, I wouldn't think."

At the lament of vacation, Dane smiles, "Well, maybe we won't be in the field. Complete bed rest might have been a bridge too far." Though the suggestion for dinner brings a nod, "Sushi sounds great. Whichever place you prefer. Assuming we're not cafeteria'ing it up because this takes up the rest of our afternoon and evening." But really...it shouldn't. He's mostly just doing preliminary analysis before Fitz and Simmons can do a deeper dive.

Jane Foster has posed:
"Given I haven't eaten dinner properly in four days, I think I can make an argument for the fifth being suitably arrayed on a table. With actual plates and chopsticks. We already had the exciting Chinese food interruption. Sushi at a table, the two of us, a little candlelight and tentacles gleaming in the shadows..." She trails off on that note, grinning back at Dane without missing a bit. "Have a care. We might need to run a programming scheme that pinpoints against the databases the slow way, you know? It might require a couple hours to give us a finished product."

Mischief isn't showing there, since she circles back on her stool and starts roaming around the vestiges of the US Geological Survey. Their opinions on where earthquakes fall along the Eastern Seaboard is pretty straightforward, drawing circles and triangulating off some of the more regular options that display themselves in fine detail on the map. Plunking those down with her actual laptop there is actually quite a bit faster. Unlike criminal mindlike shows, she actually uses a mouse. A little one, of course. "I think the power usage is going to be key. Between transmission and any indications of activity on the outset, we're in a spot where we might be able to narrow down their location. Then send in a force to mop them up. Maybe."

Dane Whitman has posed:
"Maybe with less tentacles. Unless you're talking the kind used to make tako." Dane replies, smiling though his eyes remain mostly on the displays for the moment, "Daisy left just a bit too early. Programming schemes aren't my specialty." He notes, setting a few automatic routines to continue the scanning on the weapon proper, focusing perhaps most closely on that transmitter.

"Why do I suspect it might not be that easy?" Dane comments, turning away from the displays to look at what Jane is working on. "Not saying we cut any corners, but maybe if we get these routines set up, we'll be able to grab at least a few hours and a real night's sleep.

Jane Foster has posed:
Jane points a finger without looking up from her laptop, though typing one handed is an art form she has barely mastered. "Got that in one, though convincingly I have absolutely no ability to eat octopus. I refuse to consume something that smart, curious, and interesting. Now put a slab of tuna in front of me, my ethical side quails a bit. Bluefin, no, but any other... mm. Just think of it, Dane, a bit of buttery, melt in your mouth ahi tuna on a bed of rice kicked by a tingle of sweetness and the tartness of rice vinegar. Why are we working?" She laments a bit at that, showing a willingness to haul herself over the east coast coals for more earthquakes, small as they are. Anything small enough to be worthwhile.

She sighs as he makes his comment. "Nothing is that easy but we are missing an obvious sign. People like this, neo-Nazis? Come on, they don't stay quiet. Daisy should be scouring the web looking for indications of people showing off, pictures and proof of concept. I don't imagine they would keep something like this silent. It doesn't strike me as the case. Might be worth tipping her off."

Dane Whitman has posed:
"Come on...you're making me hungry. Though I tend to prefer salmon to tuna. Not that I'll turn down some toro given the opportunity." Dane grins, watching a bit over Jane's shoulder, nodding at the rest of her words.

"Worth a look, though it seems they're still in the "robbing banks for funds" phase which might let them be a little quieter than normal until they've got what they want. Either way plenty of opportunity for Daisy to strut her stuff."

Jane Foster has posed:
"Inari too. I don't know why those egg sleeves are so good, but they really hit the spot. Mwah! Salmon is decadent and ideal, but you're talking to a girl who grew up like three miles from the sea. The days we didn't have salmon were a sad time indeed." Jane sighs at the recollection. "Pike Place Market early on a grey morning, and the fish were still glistening like silver. My dad and I would find one of the favourite counters there, where they practically heaved the fish out of the boat and into paper for sale. It's changed a lot since I was a kid. Not really as authentic, more of a tourist attraction. But you have to admit, getting that grade of fish was something else. He liked to barbecue it though, which is heinous considering what that costs anywhere around here." A soft laugh plunders the silence of mapping disruptions and trying to prod at MIT and Columbia for similar data. It's naturally a slog to navigate their websites. "One of these days, I should show you the stomping grounds. I bet they look a little different from New York. Or Virginia."

Aww, hobnobbing at work! Totally hobnobbing. "Robbing banks for funds though, I have trouble understanding why they would be so reckless. Wouldn't they do some other kind of skimming or fraud? Not like they're going to hack Lexcoin or anything, but it still gives me reason to wonder. I hope she can find something there, maybe a bad tweet or a hate group too eager to get on the bandwagon."

Dane Whitman has posed:
"Well, there is the frame-up aspect." Dane replies, shrugging slightly, "And I think mutual stomping ground visits are on the agenda." Dane adds with a laugh, "You know...if we ever have a few days of space to actually pull it off again."

Jane Foster has posed:
"Framing is rather interesting. I am not convinced this was as random as she thinks, unless they have some way to track specific empowered types. Inhumans, for example. Mutates. That's an ugly concept to have, especially with so many people half-convinced that they need to protect themselves against lesser beings or subhumans, however they rant about it. Not much has changed but the lyrics to the same hateful tune." Jane shakes her head, going back to her work briefly. "I don't know how you can hold such thoughts in your head, but that's a corrosion to the very soul. Some of the pro-Thule and pagan groups that reached out to me, after the incident in New Mexico, you'd never believe what they said. Still do now and then. I'll take a few days off and /sanity/. No wonder the directors are so weary all the time. Human foibles are enough to get us all killed."