2189/Black Sun: Wicked and Divine

Black Sun: Wicked and Divine
Date of Scene:	22 June 2020
Location:	Cloisters - Metropolitan Museum of Art
Synopsis:	A special display attracts SHIELD's attention, but something unexpected turns the theft-in-progress on its head.
Cast of Characters:	Jane Foster, Bobbi Morse, Sam Wilson, Daisy Johnson, Jemma Simmons, Gothic Lolita, Dane Whitman, Mikhail Uriokovitch
Tinyplot:	Black Sun

Jane Foster has posed:
Cloisters: The Langon Chapel, 10:25 PM

The Met Gala settles into the denouement of the evening after scintillating performances by popstress prodigy Dazzler and the Japanese rock goddess, Kaminari. The last electrifying performance still thunders in the murmured conversations between high-powered socialites and celebrities rubbing shoulders at tables where each ticket costs the average wage of an hourly worker.

As these high-society affairs so often go, the company of roughly 500 souls and change freely circulates around the grounds of Cloisters. Part museum, part art gallery, the reconstructed medieval manor isn't one particular building but many pieced together like one of the beloved stained glass windows. Moguls and superheroes alike mingle in the crowds thinly spread across the inner sanctified grounds or taking to the herb gardens to speak with supermodels and powerhouse media figures. On the west terrace, dinner takes place and the soft chimes to call the courses of a three-starred Michelin chef's boundless imagination help to reduce the numbers further. Seated in the open July air, those served up dishes can be seen through a thin veil of linen approximating a Crusader tent.

Guests of the night who didn't have to cough up the $30,000 ticket (or perhaps they did) congregate in the sacred spaces of the Langon Chapel. It sits within sight of the diners, separated by huge, thick walls of stone reduced to a tawny glow by the myriad lanterns set out strategically.

Here lie exquisite gifts of the the Imperial Treasury of Vienna: the Habsburgs' legacy to Austria, the outlay of that fatal run from Grosvenor Courier into New York proper. With silent knights garbed in light chain -- servants not of the Metropolitan Museum of Art but a different group altogether -- they have the sanctified space almost all to themselves.

Agents among the glitterati cannot be in their SHIELD uniforms. Nor are they welcome to be dressed down, but at least there is a budget outside SHIELD for that. It happens to be a Nobel scientist forking over the necessary funds for a -reasonable- outfit, at least, if no one else can provide. Not everyone has Janet van Dyne on speed dial, after all.

So while the powerful dine and admire the relics of the Near East, some approaching their nine hundredth year, there lies the first opportunity to see what SS Invicta was willing to crash an SUV in.

To Bobbi, Jane -- one of the co-chairs -- says, "I managed to convince Anna and Ms. Potts to keep the others occupied with some activities and a presentation, but not everyone will be sitting down. If you want to get close, this is the best shot we have without the public being present. Or photographers." All those folks were banished from the purple carpet outside; no red carpet here, only royal Tyrian purples, just like her dress.

Inspiration: https://www.metmuseum.org/art/collection/search/479486

Bobbi Morse has posed:
Bobbi wasn't entirely sure what would be appropriate to wear to this event - requiring a mixture of being practical as a SHIELD agent, but also fit in with the theme, but also not look out of place with all these very well dressed people. So she let the outfitter do her best and now Bobbi has turned up wearing a medieval kirtle with surcoat over top. Regular shoes hidden under the skirts, along with her regular SHIELD gear. A long cloak drapes from her shoulders. She is okay with this getup, it is practical and fits the renaissance well.

When Jane gives her the note she nods in return and touches a finger to her ear piece, <<Okay team, we are a go. Disappear from the crowd and regroup at the artefacts. This is our window, let's be efficient.>> It should be an easy night, no one would be stupid enough to attack this place, right? and SHIELD has legitimate business checking these things out. Even if this is more of a WAND thing than she's used to dealing with, she understands covert. <<And remember agents, keep a low profile>>

Sam Wilson has posed:
Sam Wilson is restlessly patrolling the gallery, his footfalls soft, even against the polished stone floor. He is not here to enjoy the night's festivities or marvel at the once-in-a-lifetime exhibit, much as he might like to. For the SHIELD informant he made contact with earlier today, once in a lifetime proved to mean a lifetime all at once, her life bled through her body in a single, seconds-long entropic torrent. He's here to see that her loss will not be for nothing. He's here to prove that men like Sam Wilson are the reason Nazis always lose.

Though he might not be here for the party, he does, in fact, have Janet van Dyne on speed dial, and it shows: he's wearing a perfectly tailored three-piece suit with a gray-violet sheen, faded gold vest, and a deeper violet tie. Points of light spark off of his gold buttons and cuff links, and over it all is draped a tan, cashmere overcoat, sleeves empty, fastened at the neck with a gold chain. From the chain hangs a personal touch: a pendant falcon with a single ruby set into the tail.

Ostentatious? Yes. Expensive? Definitely. But he needs to be able to move through this crowd invisibly, which tonight means being the opposite of invisible.

"Don't jinx it, Bobbi," he murmurs as he joins her at the entrance to the cloister, flashing a wry expression, good old Sam Wilson surfacing from beneath all the finery.

Daisy Johnson has posed:
If there was something on Daisy's mind tonight a party wasn't one of them. Not after Meris. It still stung, and so did her duty afterwards of reaching for the family. Yet she was determined to follow this trail. Someone would pay, and in this case it does appear SS Invicta were the ones she'd be collecting from, or at least that was her hope.

She had brought on her own dress, a loose blue velvet dress, the color very similar to the SHIELD one (because someone has to represent 'em!), cut to one side to reveal a bit of leg and close to flowing down to the ground. Still, it was open enough on the leg to let her move freely if need to. And more importantly, she could hide a tablet underneath it for her hacking purposes. That blend between praticality and being well-dressed. The ornament she had requested from Jane though, a piece resembling a chainmail from the crusades that is worn over the head, a dazzling array of links with gems in the middle.

(Inspiration: https://www.odt.co.nz/sites/default/files/styles/odt_portrait_medium_3_4/public/slideshow/node-1420662/2018/05/metpriyankare.jpg?itok=s_jIpVsM)

A nod when she receives the communication on the earpiece. <<On my way>>, she is soon to join them. "Top notch security here." she notes to them. She had made her rounds afterall. "I wouldn't expect less. Thermals, light, heat..., you name it. The best money can buy." a sigh. "I am not sure how anyone would be able to break in here. Heck, in I would have difficulty." sounds like the hacker has a bit of an ego. But then again, all good hackers must have it!

Jemma Simmons has posed:
    Well, it was short notice for one Jemma Simmons to find an appropriate dress for the evening. However, what Jemma does manage to find seems perfectly at home with hobnobbing with the extraordinarily rich. For Jemma managed to find, and wear, a fabulous formal gown, resembling very much the renaissance dresses seen in history books. It is expertly made of green silk and is most certainly a marvel, with silver leaves embroidered on the neckline and hem. The sleeves, full-length, are etched with the same silver leaves, ending at the cuff upon her wrists, while her hands are adorned with white gloves. A silver cord belt graces her waist, allowing the green silk of the dress to flow down to the hemline, which is inches from the floor. With the dress, Jemma wears a pair of 3 inch heels. The shoes have a certain silver motif, a creation of green leather and silver. The silver appears to be worked in an intricate lace design, with the heel capped off in silver. And, for no apparently good reason, apart from wanting to, a green velvet cloak adorns her shoulders, held in place with a gold and green enamel clasp shaped in a celtic knot, with the inside lining of the cloak being a silken green.

    A green hand bag rests in Jemma's hand...the same hand bag that might have seen action at a certain speakeasy. Within it, when opened, is a smaller version of an ICER...and one of those larger smartphones, midway between a tablet and a phone. It is to the electronic device that Jemma reaches for, which proves to be a smaller version of her tablet...with a little modification. Such as the sensory device she plugs into an auxiliary port, effectively converting it into a hand scanner. "If you would just give me a moment, I will be able to identify where the energy signatures we detected earlier are emanating from."

    It does not take long at all. The moment the tablet is powered up, a blazingly bright signature erupts, strong and steady. Jemma frowns, as she works to pull up a map of Cloisters, and overlays it to the signal source. "I would say our quarry is in the Fuentiduenda Chapel..."

Gothic Lolita has posed:
Given the opportunity to wear finery on mission, Lolita of course defaulted to her personal favorite, the style that she took her name from. Thus, she's ended up in a burgundy dress overlaid with a fine lacy black covering and the distinctive layered look over her skirts. The dress laces up the front with black laces, hugging her curves without overly drawing attention to them. A line of lace rests over the top of her decollatage, black lace with a red trim, with a matching chocker in red above it from which hang shilvery chains with red gems caught in the midst of them. The dress is sleeveless, her arms bared but with delicate lace gloves worn over her hands and a swath of matching cloth around her wrists. She wears short black stockings that come up to her knees, and strappy chunk red pumps with black bows over the top of her toes. Her hair is pulled back in two pigtails, with red and black ribbons holding either in place. Black lipstick and understated makeup complete the look, along with a long pendant with an ahnk dangling from it resting above her cleavage. (https://www.lolitain.com/red-and-black-short-sleeves-bows-elegant-gothic-lolita-dress-p-2009.html)

She has mostly been staying close to her assigned mentor like a good trainee, that being Daisy, partly to be close if she needs her, partly to have a means of dislodging people who become too clingy so they can focus on their mission. "<Yes.>" She says directly over the radio chan, not needing to move her lips or reach for an earpiece. "<I am detecting thermal, light, and heat triggers in addition to laser, sonic, and force cage technology surrounding the items. Most likely heavy bulletproof glass over the exhibits as well and numerous physical guards, both dressed as docents and as knights in armor.>"

Dane Whitman has posed:
Dane Whitman has practically been Jane Foster's shadow this evening. Of course, he was also her date, so that stands to reason. Things are little different now, even if there's an element of greater alertness in his manner and purpose in his stride. He's still in the same black tux with the crimson lapel pin as earlier. He gives a nod to Bobbi and Sam when they link up, slipping his earpiece communicator into place and reaching to press his hand over the left side of his chest as he notes, <<Medallion's getting warmer. I'd say we're definitely on the right track.>> He doesn't seem terribly concerned about carrying something that melted it's case yesterday in his suit pocket, for some reason.

<<Over a billion dollars buys a lot of security, even when you don't have a government sponsored organization backing it up. I'm just wondering if Austria has any idea what it really has, because I doubt they'd have let it come visit if they did.>>

Jane Foster has posed:
In no sense is Jane anywhere near 'practical.' Nothing resembles practicality in a Tyrian purple dress dotted by gemstones on the hemlines, but at least the side-slit permits some mobility about her. A shining scrollcase hangs at her side, adding to the glimmer of polished porphyry, those gems marking her as a Byzantine princess. A very particular one at that; given the war-torc designed from gems, it has a silent nod to the violence that seized Constantinople in the denouement of its power. A cultured, educated woman who led an empire to war, why not? But practical, no. She's hosting a massive fundraiser for the art world, one projected onto international news media and chatted about for months before and after online, arm-in-arm with Pepper Potts, /the/ Vogue editor, and one or two other celebrities on the committee. "I can do my best to keep attention off you, but sticking too close will inevitably draw someone out to ask about who you are and whether any certain gods or Avengers might be showing up," she notes with a bit of reluctance. Her smile shines all the same. "Consider me your roving shield for the night." Or SHIELD for the Knight. It could go either way.

She gives a faint smile to Dane. "Should you need me to divert focus, put in a call that it's time for the stars to fall. That will haul several of them off for the duello and the star show projections. And should anyone come wearing a bent sun, you know the drill. We have security for that to help with evacuations." Because no one parties like someone who escaped a Nuremburg party.

With that said, she heads out from the chapel closed off from the general public. Not being at dinner for long is going to leave a mark against her in curious minds, after all.%

Mikhail Uriokovitch has posed:
Mikhail was assigned as security for this, while he was not the most fashionable of people, he was very capable at security. He also actually cleans up all right, the large Russian having been assigned a fitting tuxedo for his frame, and hoping that he is not needed to utilize his full power tonight. He manages to stick near the other agents and speaks into his comms <<Da, they hire good security, but nyet, they probably are unaware. I know back home they would not let such item leave Leningr... Petro... Saint Petersburg.>>. He keeps his eyes and ears open, trying to see if any threats present themselves.

Bobbi Morse has posed:
When Sam joins her she looks him up and down and says, "Damn Sam, did you raid the costume department for Star Gate or something." She shakes her head with a small smirk. It's easy for Bobbi to blend in to those who are here to entertain the guests. She likes it that way, it's a good way to stealth if she needs to. She pulls out her phone and checks the provided maps, "Fuentiduenda Chapel.. this way."

It does not take long to get there and she replies over comms, <<It is a lot of security and if it turns out we need to relieve them of this thing, we're going to have to prove that SHIELD makes the best cat burglars. So, thanks for the heads up Johnson and Wednesday. Put your minds to how you might defeat it without breaking it... just in case>>

<<Thank you Foster. Let's make this quick and tidy.>> A nod is given to the agents as they convene on the location. She motions to her lips for silence and then to spread out. Her eyes turn to Simmons and she motions to the large smart phone for her to identify what they're here to check out. Though, Bobbi notes wryly how everyone else is dressed up, eh, may be she needs to send these agents under cover more often.

Sam Wilson has posed:
"Let's just say I know people who sew people," Sam answers Bobbi with a slight smile. And for the alterations and the night's use of this suit, he /owes/ people, he might as well add. He'll just have to do his best not to bleed on it, if it comes to that.

He crosses through the St. Guilhem Cloister on his way to the Feuntidueña Chapel, making sure that the group will split and approach from both angles. It's not exactly a pincer, but it pays to have your exits covered. If nothing else, they'll get as thorough a look at the room and its contents as possible.

Daisy Johnson has posed:
<> Details that the ones that ACTUALLY arrested Daisy had been SHIELD a few years back. And the rest was history. But Jane receives a nod when she says she will be their 'guardian angel' tonight, Daisy not helping herself to tease with a "Imperator Furiosa." a faint smile, but it doesn't particularly reach her eyes, Meris's death still in her mind. Jemma's dress gets a look, a raised brow, but no comment just yet. She'd leave those to the Furies whatsapp group!

But then it's game on, time to move. Stylishly. She walks along with the rest of them, her comms silent for the moment when Bobbi calls for it, down the Chapel and through the Romanesque Hall, opposite from Sam, and towards the Fuentiduena...

Fingers haven't stopped though, she taptapping on her tablet as she takes in the security of the place, monitoring it. She isn't exactly aiming to break it just yet, more like seeing if ANYONE is trying to do so, though coordinating with her trainee on it. A grin is given at the choice of dress from Lolita. Typical!

Gothic Lolita has posed:
Lolita sees Daisy's glance her way and raises a brow in her best Nimoy, totally aware of what she's thinking as she idly fluffs her skirts, and walks over to her to join her before glancing over the area in a slow pan as she scans. "<Interesting. The Grail has a truly impressive number of lasers surrounding it. The bowl is oddly cool for stone under lightning like this.>" She glances to Daisy. "Having fun?" she says with a faint smile. "Some of the dresses here are amazingly intricate...." "<Also, there's a circle on the floor that has a separate heat signature, possibly a lift. It has an active electrical signature.>"

Jemma Simmons has posed:
Looks or not, Jemma does not see anything but her smartphone as her tracking app flashes in a muted glow. She walks with Bobbi, but again, doesn't really *walk* with Bobbi. Much like nerd with their toys, her toy has her attention for the most part. Fortunately, there is enough presence of mind to avoid, you know, walking into people and items, but, for the most part, Jemma remains silent.

After all, Meris was her friend, too. And....Jemma had the nasty business of looking for answers via autopsy before coming here. Which has left Jemma being more reserved and quiet. She does break her silence as she walks on. "Almost there."

Dane Whitman has posed:
Dane takes the slightly more circuitous route from Sam, down the length of the Romanesque Hall and then left, towards the Fuentiduena Chapel. There's a moment of pleasant reverie as he recalls his first visit here with Jane. Was it really only a couple or three months ago? But the distraction is pushed from his mind as he makes that left turn towards the Chapel, noting that the Medallion is still heating up as they near the Chapel.

He gives their surroundings one more surreptitious once over before he steps through that door, looking for anything or anyone that seems particularly out-of-place, and then moves to step into the Chapel.

Jane Foster has posed:
Fuentiduena Chapel has not the grandeur or mass of the great European cathedrals. This space holds a quiet intimacy, suitable for a knight in vigil on his knees or ladies of the court receiving the sacraments. Its transformation for the evening proves even more dramatic in the deepened tawny gold of the lantern light, the relics laid out under museum-quality glass to diminish any unwanted shine. Each speaks to a different period, a different time: the crosses and crowns, the swords and even the chain of a Knight of the Golden Fleece, the most exclusive order of chivalry perhaps.

As beautiful as the objects in the Chapter House and the Gothic Halls are, they hardly compare. Of course that means drawing guests in who turn and admire the different sights in pairs or trios. Movie stars may be instantly recognizable, but they largely nod and smile in their opulent designer finery and gemstones worth an imperial ransom. However many care about swords, they like being seen.

"Could you believe it? He told me to move from the apse," complains an attractive Korean actress in a scaled gold and silver dress. It's based on 16th century armour, curiously threaded vertically like a tatami mat. The A-list actor beside her nods for her to continue. "I was looking at the crucifix and he shooed me over here."

She shoots a look disapprovingly at the featureless knight. The gentleman wears a helm over his face, though not so deep as to make it hard to see. His armour and clothing are those of a German Crusader, the red and white tabard pretty obvious.

Mikhail Uriokovitch has posed:
Mikhail notices the other agents begin moving through the building towards the various rooms in teh building. He frowns when he notices Dane moving towards the chapel and follows. He is genuinely interested in the art he sees, especially a few items that if he was a regular visitor would keep him rather busy for a while. The Russian keeps his distance and says over comms <> his heavy accent introducing himself by its presence. Mik tries to again keep his eyes open, but also now is seeing if anyone thinks about causing problems with Dane moving into the chapel.

Sam Wilson has posed:
As Sam passes through the Cloister, his eyes light upon an odd absence in one of the displays and he frowns. Tapping his earpiece, he says quietly, <<Hey, folks, we're missing something called a Mauritiuslanze.>> His German pronunciation is surprisingly solid thanks to his deployment with coalition forces from Europe, although he doesn't yet understand the significance of the term he's reading. <<Keep an eye out for someone trying to carry... that... out of the area.>>

With that message relayed, he walks into the Chapel itself. After taking in the exchange between the pair of actors, he decides to test their concerns for himself. He moves deliberately into the apse alongside the helmeted knight, adopting the manner of a man who expects to be welcome wherever he treads: behavior to match the clothes. He's on his guard, but waiting to see how the stranger reacts.

Bobbi Morse has posed:
Bobbi takes note as she enters the room of the appropriate angular sweeps of the cameras and also the positions of the guards. Underneath her layers of garb she has access to her ICER and may need to use it. She's pretty sure she can take out two of them before they even realise what is going on. But.. the moment she does that, the jig will be up. She looks at the artefact in question and isn't quite sure what all the fuss is about. Perhaps Bobbi isn't a student of history.

But now her eyes are searching for someone being sneaky like her. Stealing a Mauritius... lance? good golly that should be really obvious. <<Any signs of unexpected guests, or are we the only ones being particularly sneaky.>> She smiles kindly to the patrons who have donated so much money to be here only to be told not to touch the things... they're so spoilt.

Daisy Johnson has posed:
"Can't really appreciate it well enough after what happened earlier." This she says to GL. But then there is an instant squint of eyes from Daisy when something comes up on her tablet. A glitch in the system? No, a cunning trick to infiltrate datastreams yet she was the expert where it came to that. She starts pulling on that digital thread, seeking, insinuating herself in.. Yes, definitely another presence. She sends the data over to Lolita so as for her to examine it as well, then says in a low tone to the rest of the group, <<There's someone monitoring badges being moved around. They are focused on personnel and access. And a good hacker too.>> but not as good as her! Though she doesn't need to say that.

Like Jemms she is mostly keeping her attention on her tablet and work, this requires all her attention afterall if she wants to continue following up on this presence, brows furrowed. <<They haven't accessed the cameras yet, or anything else, keeping a very low profile.>>

Then .., something else. A frown. "GL, noting this electricity spike?" she looks towards the area.

The mention of the mauritiuslanze being missing means she starts looking for where it would supposedly be at, checking to see if there's any note of it being moved around.

Jane Foster has posed:
A single voice, deep and rich, begins singing from the Cuxa Cloister. This garden is open to the sky, but the speakers throughout Cloisters Museum picks up on the eerie eloquence of a chant. Then comes the next, softly mingled together, men's baritones and tenors stripped of grace but for the lowest of resonant notes. Lights dim further so the flickering lanterns and the dancing sweep of flame outside gives a wild atmosphere of a hot, sultry summer night full of the spices of the Near East, rich on the palate as they are on the air.

Somewhere Damascene roses bloom, adding their heavy perfume, wisping through past the burnt offerings of incense spread by a thurible of a woman in a porphyry dress. This is not merely art: it is performance, an act of defiance and sublime wonder. Guests on the terrace still talk, muffled beyond hearing, until their silence is announced in the choral hymn.

"A pacem Domine in diebus nostris
     Quia non est alius
          Qui pugnet pro nobis
               Nisi tu Deus noster.

          Fiat pax in virtute tua:
     et abundantia
in turribus tuis."
(Playlist: Les Chant des Templiers: VII. Antiphona "Da pacem Domine" - Psaume "fiat pax in virtute")

Show's on.

Jemma Simmons has posed:
 With the advent of actually being civilians in the room, Jemma calmly slips her smartphone tracker into her green clutch, shifting to hold it in her hands in front of her. The clutch remains partially open, just enough to allow Jemma to view the display as those brown eyes rotate to look about the chapel. The clutch is held almost as a divining rod as Jemma slowly rotates in the room.

 The divining rod clutch centers on the agate bowl, as Jemma's voice cuts into the comms, the British accent a soft murmur. <<The bowl. Quite a high energy reading...on the edge of the sensor range. This isn't thermodynamic or anything of the sort, but more on par with mythical Norse hammers than anything in the normal spectrum. I...>>

 A sudden frown clouds over Jemma's features as she notices a spike at the same time that Daisy comments on a power surge. <<That power surge...is moving.>>

Dane Whitman has posed:
Dane moves into the Chapel starting to move over towards where the purported Holy Grail rests, making a mildly-paced circuit around it, and schooling the frown from his face when he hears the name of a missing artifact over the comms.

<<Yeah, that's what we're looking for, and if it's what I think it is we've got to be careful that all hell doesn't -literally- break loose.>>

He moves away from the Grail then, towards the southwest corner of the room. HE's careful not to take the medallion out, but he can feel it getting warmer and warmer as he moves...and then start to fade just a bit, only to warm up a tiny bit, then fade as Dane keeps moving towards that corner.

<<All right tech-gurus, get us some blueprints, I need to know if there are passages in the walls or under our feet, because I think the item is on the move.>>

Mikhail Uriokovitch has posed:
Mikhail finally makes his way into the chapel after Dane. He keeps his distance from the fellow agent to make sure he can cover him, but his focus is immediately broken by the sudden, but faint woosh of air from the ground. <<Something might be up, keep alert>> is all he notes, but he keeps his back to a wall to better observe, though he is far more tense than he was before, though not so quick to adopt his ursine form. <<Also da, keep Hell out of this. We have enough trouble.>>

Gothic Lolita has posed:
"<Interesting. Something is moving under the floor and about to come up through the previously mentioned lift. I'm detecting some sort of cage and organic material. Silk and wood.>" Lolita notes after a moment as she responds to Daisy, her eyes idly seeming to rove over the room but managing to keep said lift and where it's about to rise in sight. ""

Jane Foster has posed:
The Korean actress gives the German knight of the Temple another look and resumes her conversation with her A-list companion, not beyond peering at the people coming and going as if to silently warn him that guy is a stickler. The pair move on to look at the next display case, and she turns to stare down at a gorgeously ornate sceptre studded in garnets, diamonds, and topazes. Uttering a sigh of satisfaction, she bends further, and her foot brushes a flagstone that might be occupied by Gothic Lolita. Or soon nothing because the flagstone keeps rising and she topples forward.

"Please stay back from the display cases and do not touch the glass," chimes a woman's voice pleasantly, interrupting the Templar chorus. The live broadcast resumes.

"It was an accident! Leo, what's going on?" she insists.

Her companion turns his famous face and hauls her back protectively by the arm. "Gianna, be careful!" He scowls at Daisy and Gothic Lolita impatiently, expectant about something. "Move, the lady needs space." He is unimpressed. An Academy Award winner, unsurprisingly he might be with a woman easily half or more his age.

The floor 'gives', as it goes, because the four-foot tall cylinder is capped in stone and stands on a smooth glass shaft. Within the shaft isn't much to see, though this is a rather innovative display case. Scraps of silk barely retain their colour through the years, a piece of aged, blasted wood lovingly suspended within twisted, fine metal filigree. It's like a tube used to contain the wood, the silk displayed around it, and the larger glass pillar for viewing. Not much unless one reads "Hattin" underneath and can appreciate the wider degree of what they're seeing: a battle standard of the Second Crusade.

(OOC: This new addition is directly under the "C" in the Fuentiduena Chapel on the Met map.)

Jane Foster has posed:
Getting anywhere near to the crucifix or the very back of the apse indeed nets a look from that stalwart security guard. Sam cannot go perch in his pavonine resplendance in the back of the chapel. "Sir," he says in a quiet, polite tone with traces of a Boston accent, "you need to stay back behind those two display cases right there." One of them contains the grail bowl, the other the Golden Fleece artifacts. "Any further and you will trigger the alarms. We have nothing on display other than what you see." Yep, a bare wall.

Daisy Johnson has posed:
"The electrical surge matches the lift. And no idea, unless it's our hacker friend behind this." Daisy says in agreement with GL, eyes then going to Jemms. "If they are moving things around that appears to be the best way as to not be detected..., though as for where it leads to.." the hacktivist then furrows her brows, starting to look for those said blueprints in an attempt to figure out in which floor or room.

"There are passages all over. Basement level." just a brief pause to give the Gianna and escort a /look/ but she does take a step aside. She doesn't want them to hear her talking too!

<<That's where we may find our answers.>> Though now to look for the way down. She scours over the blueprints if she can find them.

Bobbi Morse has posed:
<<Agent Whitman, you don't need a tech-guru for that. There's access points to the lower levels at the corner stairs. Keep your eyes peeled, they've got delightful little hidden doors,>> Bobbi says and decides may be it's time she gets down in to their basement level and check things out. She passes by a guard and notes his less than medieval style security badge and taps on her comms <<I'm going downstairs>>. She lifts the badge gently and disappears around the corner to the stairs and swipes the security pad. With a click the door is open and she heads down in to the basement.

<<Agent Johnson time to take control of their cameras, we must control the narrative before these other hackers do.>>

She hugs the wall as she gets down there, seeing two men escorted by a curator.. carrying what probably is the lance. <> she whispers in to comms and takes her ICER out from hiding, stalking behind the three people.

Gothic Lolita has posed:
Lolita blinks a bit and steps back as the odd exhibit rises out of the floor, her eyes flicking to the security. None of them seem to be responding to the addition as she moves slightly farther back so she doesn't trigger an alarm. "Then you should probably take her over there so she has room." she says without batting an eye at the actor chiding her, staying near Daisy as she gives him a steady, intense gaze. She's been taking lessons from Melinda apparently. "<Should I head downstairs as well?>" she offers over the ops chan.

Sam Wilson has posed:
Sam raises an eyebrow at the guard in his crusader getup, saying flatly, "That so." He hooks a finger back over one shoulder, indicating the rising lift, and asks, "Then why is somebody moving those displays around in the middle of the gala?"

If the guard goes to check it out, great. If not, he'll move aside himself, hissing into his communicator, <<Morse, don't forget they're tracking guards by their keycards. It could give away your position.>> That done, he doesn't waste time following her, though he makes sure to split their positions -- no sense both of them getting caught sneaking around if one does.

Jemma Simmons has posed:
 Regardless of that Korean actress and that A-list actor in the room (though that voice sounds familiar...) Jemma works on trying to isolate the different energy signature. If it was strong enough to cut through the bowl's power imprint...then it is pretty damn powerful. Or....at least it seems that way. <<These power readings are all over the place. Like it is overwhelming the sensors....but then not. But...if I isolate where the fluctuations occur...>> Jemma performs some quick calculations...then frowns.

 <<Whatever it is...it is heading towards you, Mockingbird. It is tracking to the door you just went through.>>

 Then, with a start, Jemma realizes that she has been standing still in the chapel for longer than she should. A smile tinged with embarrassment is given, if anyone is looking, while Jemma herself starts to walk for the very door Bobbi chose to use. Though...she does not enter yet.

Dane Whitman has posed:
<<Be careful Bobbi. And if it comes down to it, whatever you do, don't touch it with your bare hands.>> Dane warns, actually moving out of the Fuentiduena Chapel to find one of those exits down to the lower level out of line-of-sight of the maybe-guard that's interacting with Sam. Dane is confident in Sam's ability to handle himself, though, so focuses on the artifact itself, slipping through a stairway in the Saint-Guilheim Cloister. <<On my way. I'll shadow from a few meters back.>> He notes, mostly for Bobbi's benefit. No sense clustering up if they're trying to be at least somewhat stealthy about this.

Jane Foster has posed:
"Because it is part of the event for the evening," says the knight-guard, polite and firm in his dealings with Sam. Not having it out, but also not ruffled much at all. "I advise speaking with the event coordinators should you need to know more, sir. I can only advise you this was all prepared accordingly."

The guard is not going to check out anything. He remains planted right where he is, with his job to watch over the Grail and the nearer display cases like the Fleece medals. He nods politely as Sam departs. "Thank you, sir." Very polite indeed. Phew, job being done.

Jemma doing her thing in the chapel of course gathers his notice, but he merely nods to the SHIELD agent. Back to watching, and making sure another of the onlookers in a crisp suit and straight back does not interrupt.

Leo, however, utters an another annoyed noise and stares back at Lolita, not quite cowed. He has attitude for that. Daisy is equally to blame in his eyes. The chanting shifts into another song, beautifully done, soulful and oddly melancholic. (Playlist: Alleluia (Choral byzantin))

Bobbi Morse has posed:
<<Ah...>> is Bobbi's reaction when Sam points out the blindingly obvious about the security cards being tracked. Well, sneaking isn't going to work well. But this cape has a lovely hood. She pulls it up over her head so that her face is obscured with a lvoely shadow cast over everything but her chin.

She whistles to the three with the large box, "Hey there, going somewhere with that?" With Sam slipping off in another direction, she knows she has the backup she needs in this moment. She just hopes GL doesn't decide it's a good time to make a new hole in the floor.

"Put the case down damen und herren," it seems like a Germany sort of day today." The pistol trained on them, she tries to figure out if the curator is in on it or perhaps an unwilling participant. "I won't say it twice."

Daisy Johnson has posed:
"Loved you on fifty shades." This Daisy says to Leo, even a faint, innocent smile on her lips. But she knows well the man wasn't in those movies. She just can't help herself! But she wisely shuffles away to join Jemms by the door.

<<Go, GL. Give them backup.>> Daisy says to her trainee even as she continues working from the floor above, remaining not too far from Jemma. Like her she isn't about to follow down and cluster it all. At least not yet. Instead she keeps an eye up here while working on her computer, checking on the cameras to see if she can mess with them but more importantly she keeps an eye out on that other hacker in the system, checking on what they are doing.

Jane Foster has posed:
Downstairs... It's very well lit underneath the main floor of Cloisters, in part because museum staff rarely work in dripping caves and dank places underground. The pleasantly illuminated space is brighter than above, stairs leading into a broad hallway and different doors or pathways all helpfully labeled for the respectably sized museum. Medieval sculpture has a different place from medieval tapestries, religious objects, and of course the breakdown by period goes even further. The Met Collection online has millions of items, and many need to be set up in the collection. Two gentlemen carry a solid, locked case, escorted by one of the Austrian supervisors. They have no way to avoid her, nor are they trying, though a confused look shows on the employees' face at finding someone in finery down there. They absolutely sound American: their English is perfect.

"Ma'am, how did you get here?" asks the first. "Is this a prank? It's..." The Austrian woman looks sharply back and forth, not on the up-and-up about how someone got down there. An obscured face is enough to send them backpedalling a little.

"It's another thief," cites the Austrian sharply. "Where is security?"

Mikhail Uriokovitch has posed:
Mikhail blinks at the banner, stunned for a moment., and while not a scholar of the Crusades, knows enough that this must be very important; however, he soon is distracted when he realizes something is going on, and then sees Dane make his way towards what appears to be a way down and joins him, <<Behind you, Whitman, also short distance.>> He does so, but does not reach for a hidden sidearm, preferring to rely on his own strength if an issue arises. Just hope the tux does not cost too much.

Daisy Johnson has posed:
Something .., isn't right. Daisy frowns as if she realized something and says. <> And something comes up on her tablet.

<<Their security has just been massively hit by a brute-force attack. Electronic locks are down. Get ready everyone.>> She stays atop, ready to follow Jemms to where she may wish to go. Noone stays alone this time!

Gothic Lolita has posed:
Lolita gets a very faint smile, staring unblinkingly at Leo as he decides to make it a contest. She really can do this all day! Theoretically, anyway. But then, she has better things to do than annoy an actor with an ego, and at Daisy's suggestion over coms she wordlessly turns on her heel and makes for the door down where Bobbi disappeared.

Once she's through it, however, she doesn't bother with the stairs...she just pauses to remove her pumps, then jumps down the middle of the stairs, falling to the bottom floor as she crashes to a halt in a three point stance, probably cracking the concrete a little bit. She immediately straightens and begins sprinting to Bobbi's location to join her, slowly just out of sight before she turns to pad in stockinged feet into the chamber with the two people having the gun pulled on them by Bobbi as she looks at the pair, scanning them quietly. "And you are not thieves?" she says curiously.

Bobbi Morse has posed:
Bobbi holds them in place until her backup has arrived. Ah! Wednesday, perfect. "I think they work here. Can someone confirm their faces." She nudges with the gun, "Case on the ground. This is SHIELD business. We'll be out of your hair shortly." Of course, that's a bold claim in a place like this with so much security, so she reaches in to her layers of clothing and takes out her SHIELD badge to show them. "Now please step away from the case and allow my specialists to examine the item. This won't take but a moment." She lowers her gun from them now that she has established bonafides with them.

<<Okay team, let's get our examination of this thing done.. and, keep an eye out in case someone is coming to take it, because .. well, they can't have it>> Stirring speech.

Dane Whitman has posed:
<> Dane notes over the comms, hand moving to his chest again, this time with a wince of pain, <<Medallion's going nuts. The Lance is definitely the focal point of all this.>> He steps out after Bobbi, fishing out his badge from the pocket the Medallion -isn't- in, and presenting it towards the Museum employees, "It's all right. We're all on the same side here. I was the one that escorted the truck here yesterday." It certainly was not likely an unmemorable spectacle, though there's no guarantee this particular three saw any of it...but they probably heard about it. "And we've got reason to believe this artifact is..." He winces again, rolling a shoulder and not getting any closer, "...under threat of theft, but did you say you already had to deal with one thief?"

Jemma Simmons has posed:
    That frown on Jemma deepens as she tilts her head, thinking. "If I was going to steal a priceless artifact....I would want to be able to get out as quickly as possible. And...if the target is where we think it is..." That map is pulled up as Jemma turns to Daisy, just as Daisy announces the DDOS attack.. "We need to get outside. This way...."

    And with that, Jemma turns to get outside, shifting to hurry to the main hall and beyond to the Postern Gate. The comms fire up with Jemma's voice...and only four words.

    Heading to Postern Gate.

Sam Wilson has posed:
In the brightly lit basement Sam remains as hidden as he can for now, wary for any sudden moves from the group Bobbi is confronting, but just as attentive to the possibility of ambush. If the SHIELD team got down here, someone else could; and if anyone is moving exhibits now, that's an ideal time for anyone to attack.

When Daisy and Dane fully sound the alarm, he flicks off his overcoat and draws a pair of ICERs from shoulder holsters underneath. He ducks around a corner for cover and turns back in the direction he came from. <<I've got one approach covered,>> he tells the rest of the team. <<I'll let you know if I spot anything, or I can move ahead to clear the way.>>

Mikhail Uriokovitch has posed:
<<Good, stealth is probably lost, anyway,>> Mik notes. Then again, he is not the stealthiest, and so this fits him rather nicely as he descends the stairs to see the item and blinks. See, it is things like this that his old bosses would have literally killed for. The Russian looks up, "Da, we are friends." He'd say more, but there is a reason he is not the party face. This is not something that can be immediately solved with mauling and/or a hail of gunfire. He is curious to hear, though, about this first thief.

Jane Foster has posed:
Downstairs... There is a startled cry of surprise at the sudden arrival of Gothic Lolita leaping down the staircase large enough to accommodate statues in boxes or bare. No way to disguise the sound of her landing, much less the crowding of shadows closer to the Cloisters staff. Both men exchange looks with one another while the Austrian woman's cheeks splotch an angry shade of red.

Her colour does not improve. But with that bitter grip on her composure, she manages to get out in a clipped way, "I should think not! I am the senior curator at the Hofburg Palace. I insist you call Doctor Böck at once. The Consul General can confirm this... this..." she tells Bobbi with the badge, looking it over and dismissing it in the high dudgeon of an academic crossed. "Herr Windisch-Graetz is somewhere on the grounds. He will have something to say about this, I am certain."

The two men beside her just gawp, they're not going to get involved with a territorial squabble. The box is left on its own.

The Austrian nods stiffly to Dane. "That horrid nonsense in New Jersey. What else was it if not an attempt at armed robbery? Those reprehensible swine touting their awful opinions. Was once not enough to learn?"

Jane Foster has posed:
Outside... Jemma and Daisy have next to no difficulty getting outside through the Main Hall, passing by a phalanx of staff on hand to help with any concerns should guests need drinks, directions, an escape from that one handsy musician who pretends not to know what 'no' means. The elegance of the medieval building gives way to the gorgeous postern gate and its cobblestoned arcade, currently occupied by a very large, long violet carpet and the intimate floodlighting to bring the drama of the building to play.

There are also three horses being taken care of by actual equestrian staff, hitched to a long post over a stone trough they can drink from. Such business as dung is rapidly carted away, and someone has an industrial fan blowing to ensure it stays that way. Going around the back of the building reveals a lot of hay being disposed of neatly, the gardens swathing the place. Locating doors back there isn't hard to do, nor a guard stuck on the most boring duty of watching over parked cars in the distance. He does this, but he's missing out on the party.

Nothing else stands out as odd.

Dane Whitman has posed:
Dane nods to the curator, staying where he's at, if only to not get closer to the spear, because that Medallion feels like it's searing his flesh even if he knows it's not actually doing so. Still, he switches to quite fluent German this time, <<I apologize for the confusion and commotion, Madame, but we thought you were the thieves absconding with the Lance. We have reason to believe those that attempted to steal it yesterday definitely are not finished trying. And another attempt may be underway as we speak.>>

He's not going to reveal further details about strange energy readings, or at least not the specifics, but he will add enough to say, <<And we have suspicions as to why they seek it that we are trying to verify. Reasons beyond simple value as a priceless antiquity.>> He's managing to keep talking, but perceptive folk can probably tell that he's both sweating a little and clenching his jaw when he's not talking, clearly under a degree of strain.

Daisy Johnson has posed:
"They would need a quick getaway." Daisy follows along to the outside, her attentive eyes going over to the horses first. Nope, not a quick getaway, then the parked cars in the distance, the guard.. All seems fine..

Though then she focuses, eyes closing briefly, sensing, seeking for signs of approaching cars, or faster footsteps that would be out of place in such a fine gala such as it is.

"See anything, Jemms?"

Gothic Lolita has posed:
Well. That doesn't look like a robbery at all, possibly. Gothic Lolita lets Bobbi talk for the moment, she's the senior agent, though she's continuing to scan the area. If there is a thief, she won't let herself or Mockinbird be suprised.

But really, none of the current people here seem like active threats or armed, as far as she can tell.

Jemma Simmons has posed:
"Oh....this isn't good." Jemma pulls out that mini-tablet/phone of hers and starts her triangulation. "I mean, it is good, but it isn't. Because there is nothing happening here." Those brown eyes are glued on the device in her hand. "But...good news is that the energy signature should be right where Bobbi and company are at. Moving away actually gave a better reception. Perhaps we were too close." With that, Jemma shifts to the comms. <>

The Lance of Longinus. The Holy Spear. The Spear of Destiny. Many, many names. And...Jemma just remains silent for now. It is all too strange...hardly science.

Dane Whitman has posed:
<<Trust me, it's what we believe it is.>> Dane interjects over the comms.

Bobbi Morse has posed:
Bobbi nods her head as she listens over the comms and says, "Very well. I regret to inform you Ma'am that we must confiscate this item from your care. Your embassy can get in touch with SHIELD over this item and we will do our very best to get it back to you as soon as we can." Lying through her teeth, the odds of SHIELD ever returning something this dangerous to a museum collection is pretty much zilch.. though they can totally talk to SHIELD about it. This is Palamas and Hills problem.

At least the two men recognise how much weight SHIELD holds even if the expert is flumuxed.. I guess they are here to steal it after all.. No, requisition it. "Agents Wednesday and Whitman please secure the spear."
Shehe looks back to the trio who work here, "And again, I am terribly sorry for this. Please rest assured we will take good care of it, however it must be in our custody for the time being."

Sam Wilson has posed:
Sam might not be an antiquities expert, but he /is/ a preacher's kid. He gets the significance of the artifact they're dealing with. At the moment, he's more concerned with figuring out their next immediate move.

<<So are we moving this thing or what?>> he asks. <<This path is clear for now. Should take us up right between the Chapel and the Cloister. Upstairs, you seeing evidence of any more attacks? I don't want anyone else aged to death on our watch.>>

Jane Foster has posed:
The spear blinded them with... no, it is not blinding anyone with science. However, the two men will open the case in rapid order to make clear what they have to Bobbi and her associates. The object in there is old, long, and dark against a nest of almost hermetically purified foam. It fits inside the cutout exactly, the tapering contour of a pointed blade maintainings its elongated leaf shape to the narrowed tip. Whatever pole it sat on is long gone and why someone wrapped gold-leaf around the middle is beyond certain. Ask a saint or a Holy Roman Emperor.

Mavritivs is, in fact, written out there on the gold leaf and this can be seen at a distance. Compared to the jeweled things out there, it's actually quite plain. Save for the medallion of St. Maurice, held in WAND custody via Dane, that almost vibrates in the strength of the glowing heat. And there it is, key to a lock. Or Tile finder to a lost StarkPhone.

The Austrian curator listens in German, and responds with in kind to Dane and those who understand her. <<A misunderstanding.>> She may let it be that. <<Another theft means we should stay where it is secure. Here, is it not appropriate?>>

She frowns when it calls for an English translation. "I regrettably invoke diplomatic privilege of the Republic of Austria. The conditions with the Metropolitan Museum of Art assured that elements of the collection would remain the concern of our diplomatic attache, Herr Windisch-Graetz and Doctor Bock, Consul General in New York, pursuant to the terms of the Vienna Convention on Diplomatic Relations." She isn't happy saying it, but there slides diplomatic immunity into spygames.

Gothic Lolita has posed:
The mecha nods, starting to step forward with Dane, before suddenly Lolita's head tilts up as her eyes snap to the roof overhead. "<Detecting thermal spike in Fuentiduena Chapel above us. One possible body down.>" the transmits and says as she looks back towards the stairs, then back to Bobbi. "Permission to investigate?" She can't really just do it on her own, SHIELD protocol is pretty clear a trainee needs a direct order from a superior in these situations. Otherwise that's how you get dead trainees when the monster of the week eats them.

Sam Wilson has posed:
Glancing at Bobbi to make sure that makes sense to her, as the ranking agent, Sam waves Lolita through the passage ahead of him. "Makes sense," he says, "You can't be aged to death, so you take point. I'll be right behind you." He stoops to gather his overcoat and shrug it on -- it'd be his head if he didn't bring the whole outfit back -- and then follows at a discreet distance, weapons drawn. At the earliest hint of an attack on Lo, he's going to let loose with an ICER barrage. It occurs to him that she's not just immune to aging, but probably ICER shots, too.

Daisy Johnson has posed:
With the call coming from GL that there's something afoot at the Fuentiduena Daisy does what Daisy does best. And that is rushing to danger! "Jemms, lets go!" she calls, and then it's time to ..., move as fast as those high heels allow to attempt and go back in the way they came from.

Though of course she will make sure Jemms is close by. Meris's loss was still too present in her mind.

Dane Whitman has posed:
<<Madame, I understand your reasoning, but please understand that those people...coming for this...may have beyond-human capabilities at their disposal. Your security here is impregnable by virtually any mundane thief, but these may well not be mundane thieves. We have facilities that are better suited to protecting against that. However...out of respect for your...difficult position...>> DAne pauses, rubbing at his chest a bit more. He's really not looking so great at the moment, though not in the sense of "about to age 100 years in a minute." <<Perhaps we could allow you to...accompany us and discuss the situation with our superiors?>>

Jemma Simmons has posed:
Well....so much for playing a hunch. With a nod, Jemma takes off after Daisy. The smartphone is placed in the bag....while the fingers rest upon the smaller model ICER within the clutch. Resembling a Walther PPK, it looks unique...but remains out of sight until at least the pair get back to the chapel to see what the commotion is...

Jane Foster has posed:
Outside... Perhaps tomorrow it will look different than it does in the light of evening, dramatic as it is. The hastened scurry away from the back lot and passing the horses at the postern gate, one of them almost pale gold rather than a soft dappled grey. How the distance can be broken into chunks: back garden to postern gate. Postern gate to main hall within through an arcane awash in the soft fragrance of the clipped orange trees in pots among the neat shrubs. Thirteen steps through the polished hall to the Romanesque Hall.

There, a stunned A-list movie star leans up against the wall, his expression grey and eyes rimmed in red. He's managed to pull the white collar of his immaculate tuxedo open. He has managed to whisper words, prayers, through flapping lips. "Gi-... Gia...."

A rush through the hall, another turn. It may be that Lolita reaches the surface before Jemma or Daisy do. They have more stairs to run but the advantage of fitness and direction. Sam's rush in their wake echoes through cloisters and chapels.

The Fuentiduena Chapel is oddly quiet with a single woman in a uniquely woven silver-and-gold dress lying flat on the ground. Her arms reach out in futility to the jewels in a display case. A seizure weakly convulses her back, her legs limp under the gown.

One of the Crusader swords has been slammed through the neck of the Templar-garbed guard and deep into the wall.

In the basement, the medallion of St. Maurice shatters in two with a crack.

Throughout the museum, the electricity surges and flickers, though all the lanterns powered by fire and not electricity or batteries keep on their merry way.

Gothic Lolita has posed:
 Given the order, Lolita immediately rounds on her heel and sprints back to the stairwell, lining herself up at the bottom over the concrete cracked by her descent as she calculates the thrust and vector needs, then /leaps/ upwards, the concrete cracking further as she propels herself upwards so she's just where she can grab hold of the railing at the top and vault over it, moving rapidly up through the doors back into the chapel itself.

 Once there, she shifts, then immediately moves to check the downed woman, her eyes flicking over to the sword rammed through the Templar. "What happened?" she says to the stunned actor, checking for life in the woman first as she glances down to see if she can determine what happened to her with a scan.

 "<One civilian down. Still alive but very badly wounded. One guard who is..impaled. Status unsure.>"

Sam Wilson has posed:
Sam rushes up the steps after Lolita, moving carefully over the newly cracked ground. As he crests the top stair, he spies the downed actress and rushes forward, hissing a breath through his teeth. "Don't restrain her!" he warns the mecha. He's nearly upon them when he spots the outline of a ghostly, grey figure hunched in the air above the actress. "WATCH OUT!" he hollers, raising both ICER pistols and firing into a space that, to anyone looking too directly at it, might seem perfectly empty. "Incorporeal!" he warns the team, already assuming his shots haven't done a damn thing. "Someone tell me we've got energy weapons or holy water or something!"

Daisy Johnson has posed:
Arriving at the scene Daisy gives a quick assessment of the place. A frown and she sets her eyes on the downed actress." Something ..., is drawing out her energy." she notes the objects shaking, her frown deepening. "It's making her surroundings shake. Be careful. Whatever this is I believe there's still an effect present."

Then to the comms. <<Is the lance still secure?>>

And then Sam starts shooting. Incorporeal?! She takes a step to the side and then focuses, pointing her hand to where Sam shot at and sending one of her concussive blasts through, maybe not as strong as her normal since she doesn't have the gloves but maybe enough to make them dissipate (or so she hopes!)

Jemma Simmons has posed:
The Korean actress gets Jemma's immediate attention as she returns back to the chapel. it was only a few minutes between....but already Jemma sees the signs. Accelerated Aging. She seems to not care that there is possibly a energy-draining spirit *right* there. Jemma does, however, time her retrieval of the actress to well both Sam and Daisy try their luck, all the while hoping that her own luck holds out long enough to pull the actress to relative safety.

Mikhail Uriokovitch has posed:
Mik follows Sam and Lolita up the stairs, and sighing as he goes up, sitting right on the edge of changing forms, but knowing full well that if he goes werebear, things get... hairy, fast. He grumbles as he gets the message of incorporeal, "Lovely. I will remember next time to bring holy water from priest." He snarls and is about to do something when out of nowhere he is slammed into, mid step, by a pop star barreling forward, knocking him to the ground when he loses his balance. When he rises he is still surly, but tries to be nice and says, "It is all right, we are here to help? Where is ghost?" The tux definitely is a little torn and scuffed now. If it's a rental, they won't be happy. Mik keeps his eyes and ears open for any clues, but does not expect to find any.

Dane Whitman has posed:
"Oh hell." Dane notes, at once relieved that the Medallion stops causing him a great deal of pain, and also dreading that a seal on the Spear's power is now broken. "Bobbi, I'm needed topside..." Which leaves Mockingbird to deal with the spear and its' attendants. Dane wanted to be diplomatic but lives come first...He races back towards the stairway, the Ebony Blade materializing in his hand as he goes. It can handle incorporeal as easily as most anything else. But there's always the question of whether he can arrive in time....

Jane Foster has posed:
The blast released from Daisy sends violent shaking through the chapel. Alarms wail, so sensitive already to the dislodged places. Perhaps they have been screaming, but the first security guard to respond paid the price by being pinned to the wall permanently like the image of Christ in agony on the cross, staring down with graven eyes in woe at the blood-stained bowl of white agate placed at his feet. Eerily still in the moonlight shades forever trapped on its surface, the Grail is not in the direct path of danger. Though other relics -- sceptre, crosses, Golden Fleece chivalric display -- are all shaken, their glass cases cracking under the stress.

Gianna's face is grey of colour, her eyes shrunken, her mouth a rictus of frozen screaming. No sound percolates out, but she keeps shaking in heaving jerks like no normal epileptic seizure ever known. Her whole body protests from the waist up, her legs leaden and flopping like a fish. Jemma can remove her under cover, dust and the insistent beep-chime of an alarm heightening the urgency.

Sam discharges his ICERs and strikes nothing but the wall, the saints in relief above bent, prostrated in prayer for the doomed souls below them.

In the basement, the Austrian woman gestures sharply and her assistants snap the case over the lance shut, giving it a level of protection from mundane cares. She looks more than unhappy at Bobbi and Dane's turn of events, but their practicality overrules heroism when the alarms start pinging off. A tide turns: museum staff know to lock down their collections, except the electronic locks aren't engaging at all. Where do you run when nowhere is secure? It's to Morse to get them out of there, retreating back to the very topside entries that Daisy and Jemma cleared out as safe.

As if anywhere is safe.

Mikhail reaches the narrow entrance to the chapel, clotted as it is. The guard dead by a sword through his throat is not. Copper fills the air, a smell like no other, and cold, the clammy cold of a touch. Something flutters on the edge of peripheral vision, and it is gone, retreating from spiderwebbed glass and polished steel. The Ebony Blade is a promise too late.

The A-lister on the ground has at least three stumbling, frightened Met staff descending to open his shirt, one to call for help, another to deliver first aid. All the signs of a heart attack, that is a known.

Sam Wilson has posed:
Sam turns to look sidelong at the specter, trying to keep it visible. Training as a pilot, he did blind spot exercises, and this is like that in reverse: trying to position an object at a specific point in your vision, not to make it disappear, but to bring it into view. He's hoping against hope that Daisy's quakes will disperse... whatever it is long enough for himself and Jemma to see to the injuries the woman has sustained. No such luck -- the thing is gone, whatever it was, but in a tactical retreat rather than a defeat.

First, he rushes to see if Jemma needs help, then the group of Met staff. "I'm a paramedic," he tells them, improbable as it might seem in his elevated outfit. No time to explain 'pararescue' when a more familiar term will do. "I need a first aid kit, not more hands."

Gothic Lolita has posed:
Lolita steps back from the body as she sees the reflection, then swings through the open air over the stricken actress, looking nonplussed as the ICER rounds do nothing to the incorporeal. She's designed with dealing with the very corporeal! "Is this something that the lance would be able to deal with?" she says uncertainly, moving back to give Dane room. He has a magic sword. She's fairly sure a magic sword would do it.

Mikhail Uriokovitch has posed:
Mik frowns as the fallen pop star is being tended to by staff. He would provide help, but there is a ghost. He snarls and gets his own ICER out, ready to pop a shot at anything that seems a little off and nods to Sam, trying to provide cover for him and the staff, "Might need AED," he musters slowly, having been able to remember the abbreviation.

Daisy Johnson has posed:
Oops. But at least the priceless artifacts stay in one piece (Daisy hopes). With whatever that creature was eventually fleeing she looks around .., not a lot she can help with Jemma's patient, though maybe she can with Leo. And in truth she sorta feels bad for being snippy at the man earlier on.

She edges closer to Sam and the MET staff, not exactly interfering in but remaining in the periphery. She -has- used her powers to jumpstart a heart .., once. Tricky. "I can try something if you think he isn't going to make it." this she tells to Sam.

If it seems the man is fading she will move in and try to kickstart the man with a carefully-placed vibrational jolt on the chest.

Dane Whitman has posed:
"Damn it!" Dane growls, knowing he's too late as soon as his eyes take in the scene, and that fleeting glimpse of the spectre before it fades, well before the Ebony Blade is close enough to be brought to bear. The Blade disappears, allowing the hand that wielded it to clench into a fist for a moment. "All right, Ursa, Lolita, I suggest you go help Mockingbird secure the Lance. I'll stay up here with Jemma and Sam in case that shade returns." As to Daisy's disposition, he lets the medically-inclined decide on that. Not that he has any real authority here, but he does have the manner of someone that's been in command before.

Sam Wilson has posed:
Sam moves from one injured actor to the other, bringing Jemma the AED and helping her administer what lifesaving care they can. "Thanks, Dane," he says, glancing over his shoulder. It's going to be a lot easier for them to focus knowing they've got the Black Knight watching their backs. It's a tense minute or so -- seems longer -- but finally he swipes at the sweat on his brow with one sleeve and announces, "OK... I think she's going to pull through. Mobility's ... mobility's not looking good. But I think she'll live."

Jane Foster has posed:
The Wicked defiles a Spanish chapel of old. Spread relics will soon enough require sealing off the entrance, some excuse to be made. The actor in his fifties excited by a much younger woman, it was bound to happen. Perhaps there can be some swift removal of a body nailed to the wall with a disturbing precision with a sword centuries old. One of the pretty relics of a battlefield, rather than a celebrated piece of ornamental frippery.

One dead. Two close enough to fuel the gossip mills, mills owned by at least three people having their dinner on the west terrace. Perhaps it won't be a duello tonight, but Jane bringing the stars to earth by a dazzling projector turned on the glitterati.

All traces of disruption of the ephemeral are past.

Only silence waits, the gasping irregular heaves for air of a woman barely able to sustain lung function on her own.

The Divine is evacuated below-ground to the nearest secure SHIELD vehicle, though a small war brewing in a teacup might involve the diplomatic corps. No, that lance isn't going anywhere without a woman chained to it, but she abides for it by now. Someone gets to relocate it to a secure site. Possibly the Austrian consulate, possibly the United Nations. Maybe the rec room at the Triskelion for directors to sort out.

When its signature vanishes, pulled away, it might almost hurt in its absence. Jemma, for whom it is no doubt a secondary concern when it comes to saving a life. Dane, holder of the cracked medallion. Any with a jot of faith in a higher power, somehow left subtly diminished in the lack of its presence.

The Saviour crucified looks in silent compassion, shaped by medieval hands to express a pain and a faith held absolute, scored by the same wound said to be inflicted by that self-same spear-point now in transit across New York.

2189/Black Sun: Wicked and Divine

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