19122/Old Fury Family

Old Fury Family
Date of Scene:	20 September 2024
Location:	Director's Office - Playground
Synopsis:	Nick Fury has a dropin by the Old Man. The two have their own agenda.. The type the rest of the world doesn't have to know.
Cast of Characters:	Natasha Romanoff, Nick Fury

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Natasha Romanoff has posed:
The Director's Sanctum was his and his alone. To enter into it was to impmly that one was there with his express permission. And yet today as he would be entering it, there would be a click of the extremely well secured citadel having had all the latches undone. Someone had already come in just a few moments before.

And the corridor smoked with a stench. A stench of a cuban cigar. A familiar, familiar stench. Of only one person's favorite brand.

Nick Fury has posed:
Director Nicholas Fury was in his office. At least, one of his offices. The smell of cigar smoke permeates the air, as he puffs on a classic, expensive cigar. A cigar he did not know where it had come from...with a shrug, he leans forward at his desk, and regards the pile of reports he had to sort through. With a sigh, he looks up.

"Come in. Nat. You need to work on your stealth." Puff.

Natasha Romanoff has posed:
There's a click-click-click and the door opens. Revealing an old man with dirty brown hair with dark acid grey stripes along the sides. Eyepatch over one eye. Wearing a ratty trenchcoat and body armor beneath. Puffing on a cigar. Not sitting in The Seat, but casually reclining against The Desk.

Nick Fury has posed:
Fury leans forward, and puts his cigar in the ash tray. A remnant of the 70s, just like a lot of things within the SHIELD architecture. "I see you are still around" Fury says, moving slightly to pull out a very very old Scotch from his special stash. He pours two glasses, the cleanliness of the glasses horribly suspect, and offers a toast.

"To the good ole' days."

Natasha Romanoff has posed:
The elder man would raise up his hand, "Yup, they haven't gotten something that can put me down." His voice ashen, like it always had been. "The more things change.. The worse they get." He would take the glass up, and clink it over with Fury's. "I almost feel sorry for you."

Cigar put aside.

Nick Fury has posed:
Fury nods, as though the man was speaking the wisdom of the gawds. "Yeah. Been feeling my age too. Sorry..." Snort. Sip. Ah. "That is so good..." He lets the scotch burn down into his centre.

"I can smell tha you still have good taste in cigars. Thought you were her. My mistake."

Natasha Romanoff has posed:
The old man laughs, "I always did have good taste. And so do you. Most of the time. I'm not here to shoptalk." That was new. "I just thought I'd drop in." The Old Man never came in without a reason. Then again, the Earth was about to be consumed by a giant Celestial.

Nick Fury has posed:
Fury raises the glass. Then takes a drink. "Agreed." Taste was a thing. "Dropping in. Must be bad." Fury picks up his cigar, Inhales. Puts it back. Another drink. Exhales. "Tell me."

Fury leans back, looking at the Old Man. "Retiring?"

Natasha Romanoff has posed:
The Old Man would laugh, "Never. I have one foot in the grave. Been six feet under enough times won't even let that slow me down." It probably wouldn't. It's not like he didn't have backups in place for that. That he'd probably already used a few times.

"Realized that I never actually passed along a few, importnat things to you. Seemed like a point to start. You know most of them."

Nick Fury has posed:
"Ah." Drink. Nod. "I understand. I retire when they bury me." Fury looks at the old man across from him, and says, "Well. I am sure I know all of them." Fury actually smiles. "I apprdciate the thought. What do you have for me?"

Fury pours another drink for the both of them. "Gonna be a long night I suspect."