2575/Furiae Assemble: Wellness Check

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Furiae Assemble: Wellness Check
Date of Scene: 23 July 2020
Location: R and D Labs: Triskelion
Synopsis: Fellow Furiae Daisy and Jane and new friend Mary Jane check on Jemma. Spirits are lifted, weapons theorized, and much food is had.
Cast of Characters: Jemma Simmons, Jane Foster, Daisy Johnson, Mary Jane Watson




Jemma Simmons has posed:
    It all started....with Meris. As much as a certain British biochemist will not admit it, the death of one that Jemma called a friend had rocked her. Shook her down to her core. It was the reason that Dr Simmons herself took it as her swore duty to perform the autopsy. To find out what exactly happened.

    That....did not give any clear answers.

    The more that Jemma looked, the more she started to withdraw into her lab. She was only seen lately out of it when she absolutely had to. The night of the Met Gala. What a disaster that was, at least in her mind. It was just a reminder that Fitz was right. Jemma needed to be in the lab...and probably stay there. And, while the church firebombing was more successful....she shouldn't have been there. Jemma had froze and had to have Agent Whitman 'suggest' to her what was needed.

    No. No good. The only place that Jemma had complete control is in the lab.

    Logically, that is where she should be.

    The white labcoat is a familiar sight to anyone who would come into the labs. The back is to the door, the good doctor at her lab station. That autopsy did not give answers. The samples from the korean actress, what little Jemma could safely take, are beside the genetic samples from Meris...what little Jemma could stomach taking. Surely there is a link. She just has to find it.

    A convenient, if morose, excuse to shut out the world.

Jane Foster has posed:
The lab is a sacrosanct place. Everything has its appointed spot, its proper time. Ecclesiastes would not have understood the use of test tubes and electron microscopes, nor the various mechanized devices transforming biology into an act of regimented art guided by militaristic precision.

A place that must be kept a bastion of order. Such is the requirement of science, removing the unexpected variables by rigid control over those variables. Whether the order of the different suspensions or the position of an autoclave at ready arm's reach, the chaotic elements fall to the reasonable, rational mind. She cannot control absolutely everything but she can darn well try.

Same for Jemma Simmons as it is for Jane Foster. In some ways worse with Jane; what she deals with could very well originate from the furthest void of space. Rules apply to keep civilians and specimens alike safe. Rules are sometimes all they have separating a design from a disaster, a careful operation from an onerous catastrophe.

Thus it's unforgivable for her to be in a white lab coat, identification card clipped to her hip, and a box of pastries in hand. Pastries, with their sugary infusions and one tipped in a raspberry on a pink nest, another folded until the delicate Italian pastry forms laminations of a sort, crisp and flaky. These are her offerings, mute as they can be.

That being said, it is still the temple to learning, the altar of holy knowledge. Jane can relate. Entry comes with the usual protocols, tablet on her forearm, and that blessing of food brought in. Probably assuming Daisy, too, will protect her. She has something else; a small bag at her hip with a crossbody strap.

"Special delivery to Peggy Carter's genetic mother number three!"

Daisy Johnson has posed:
It had not been an easy couple of weeks for anyone. Meris in particular had rocked Daisy's core. The death of someone she had met for a long while now (ever since she joined SHIELD), and how she considered other Agents to be her family made it so the young woman hadn't been in high spirits. Even the cat pictures in the Furies whatsapp group had taken a pause for now! (And only for now).

But Daisy wasn't the type to dwell for too long on the bad, she always bounced back, no matter the stakes and if there were friends in need she focused on that. In helping, giving what she could and .., more than anything ..., never giving up on her family.

So when there was a certain message that certain pastries would be had Daisy made sure to attend, even sending a message. "I will bring us something from the Royal Dragon." Hell's Kitchen. She spent quite a big amount of time there. Some even said she lived there now! *gasp*

And true to her promise she brings in a bit of takeout too to complement the pastries. "On the menu it said Steel-reinforced shrimp. I just got too curious and ..., well..., they promised there was no steel in the food but ..." she brings a bag too.

Apparently someone won't have to leave the lab for today with the amount of food offerings being brought!

Jemma Simmons has posed:
    The sound of the door doesn't deter Jemma from her self-appointed duty. However, the distinct smell of take-out, overpowering in its own right, hits Jemma, which causes her to turn around. Right in time for Jane's exclamation. The expression of mild surprise, wrangled in rather well with that British demeanor, melts into a soft smile as the research scientist steps away from her research. "Hello Jane. And Daisy, too. To what do I owe this impromptu and certainly unexpected visit?"

    Right...as if she didn't know.

    The brown eyes glance over to the box of pastries in one hand....and the bag of take-out in another hand, and Jemma glances back up with a slight questioning glance reflecting in those amber orbs. "Bribes?" After all, it is usually the method used to extract favors. But...that mind of Jemma's is quick...and another thought springs to it. "Or...an excuse for a visit?"

Jane Foster has posed:
"Steel-reinforced shrimp? Suppose they come with actual metal in them, think of the fillings! I know we have a decent dental plan, but think of the risk. Maybe we should run them under the microscope to avoid any elevated mercury concentrations." These are the things you think about when indulging in the medical community, or the scientific, and where they crossover. Not that space medicine is exactly a thing, yet, but when it is, the woman in the lab will be a prime candidate to shake her head sadly.

"That smells too sinfully good not to be bad for us," adds the bearer of pastries. A sigh lingers on her lips. "I have never been to that Chinese place, and the restaurants out by me are great. No decent Chinese, though, which I might need to change." Oh, is that thinking? Yes. Yes, it is. "Perhaps we need to invite our fellow Fury out, and go for a proper dim sum experience." A lovely smile settles in as she winks at Daisy, nudging her affectionately with her elbow. And into the breach.

The Rubicon is crossed. There can be no turning back. "You have to know, Doctor, that your fellow doctor here was jammed away in a corner of the Hayden avoiding Anna Wintour and a flotilla of papers. Everyone demands to know what's up with the best dressed. How could I pick Richard Grayson over /Tony Stark/, or several angry PR agencies insisting their client paid and so forth. I will hide away here, and they will never know. My phone hasn't stopped beeping for days."

Totally true. On the other hand, she's piled on quite a few followers about #FashionScience and #ScienceGala tags, where everyone thinks there ought to be a new idea. "You know, we should host the Tesla Ball in the autumn. Think it over. It could be good as a social mixer of our scientific peers."

The box is put down, Jemma assessed with a ready grin.

Daisy Johnson has posed:
"I don't know, it's the sort of place where they have a specific plate for Jessica Jones.." the PI. ".. Apparently she is a regular there, that plate has more bourbon that chicken. Maybe when we are off-duty we can go and have that one." A teasing wink given. But there's no hiding the small strain on her expression, the weight on her shoulders of these last weeks. Still, nothing in the world would make her not be here for her friends.

She sets the bag on an empty counter (well, that counter in where she usually does her food bribes to a certain Jemms), "And Jane, there's nothing wrong with some bad. It will be exciting." She assures the astrophysicist, her smile deepening. "And you guys still need to meet Matt." who's that?!

"According to all the gossip columns, which I don't read by the way, Richard Grayson still has the best derriere in the States.." a sagely nod given.

Her eyes then finally rest fully on Jemms. "Surprise. Time for a break." a warm smile to her fellow Fury.

Jemma Simmons has posed:
    Ahh...yes. The truth of it comes out. Daisy and Jane are both not fooled by Jemma's work ethic. From both Jane's 'hide away' expression to Daisy's up front 'take a break' comment, Jemma is also sure that her own 'must solve this problem' screen is as easily as transparent as both of their alibis as to them appearing.

    And...the smile that Jemma had on her face slips, just a little bit, which is then replaced with a more sullen frown. "So, I am that easy to read, hmm?" There is a laugh there...a short, clipped affair, with a little mirth, but more despair. And, not that she needs to offer explanations...but Jemma does, nonetheless. "I am hiding. Yes, that is true. After my rather disastrous turn at not one, but two crime scenes, I felt it was more appropriate to retreat to a more...comfortable...setting." With that, she lifts up her hands, indicating the lab around her. "I know here. This is my world. I know what must be done here."

    The hand drop, with Jemma sighing. "I am not so sure I belong outside of here." A moment of weakness...only exposed now because Jemma is comfortable with her fellow Furies.

Jane Foster has posed:
Hurt and pain Jane would have to be blind not to notice. The suffering and the weight on their collective shoulders isn't a burden she can take alone but she's bound to try anyway. Nothing said logic had to override wisdom. Foolishness being what it is, she slings the bag at her hip over her shoulder. It rests on the counter beside her box of pastries, going with the Chinese food in all the best ways.

"Ms. Jones hasn't been introduced to me, I don't think. But if you have a dish for you there, it must be good or you did them a favour," she says, her mouth up in a smile for Daisy. "I won't lie, bourbon sounds fabulous. Just a bit wrapped up around a good, juicy chicken breast and plated prettily? That's worth it. I haven't had any Chinese in a while. I might have to check with..." She catches herself, and then shifts her attention smoothly down to the mobile phone. "Seventeen new messages. Darcy, seriously. Why do I keep you if not to deflect these comments?"

Somewhere, Darcy is in trouble if she's not daydreaming about certain tall, dark, and handsome heroes. "All right then, fess up, we need to hear it all. Let it out rather than with someone from the Employee Assistance Program."

She flips open the bag while speaking easily to Jemma and Daisy both, extracting a pair of objects about the same size. They're wrapped in colour tissue paper with glitter, one being a warm copper-orange with bronze flecks and the other cooler, a soft opal with silver. The latter to Jems, the former to her happiest quaker.

"Disastrous turn? Need I remind you what happened when /I/ was at an apparent crime scene, and the whole of a town nearly blew itself to pieces?" OK, it wasn't the town's fault but a giant suit of murder golem armour but still!

Daisy Johnson has posed:
"It's my secret superpower." Daisy tells Jemms, a tap given to her head. "Mental x-ray vision." another sagely nod, but the smile she gives is a sad one. She understands it, feeling it's our fault something or another goes wrong in a mission.

"We have both known you for a while now, the same way you know us." Daisy says, "And I got to agree with Jane, imagine if we hadn't been there, how worst it could had been." small blessings..

"I have felt the same you know?" This spoken when Jane asks for a confession, even if her eyes remain on Jemma for the moment, "Doubts about myself when Meris was killed. Facing her children to bring those news." she shakes her head slowly. "But SHIELD is family, Jemms. That's the truth I know, and we owe it to Meris to continue, along with every Agent that falls in the line of duty." No matter how much she wished she could save everyone.

Attention then goes to Jane, a pause on her thoughts. She blinks. "What's this you have here ...? And .., glitter?" she reaches to that copper-orange wrap to take it. "You brought gifts?!" she sets it on the table (it's starting to become a very busy counter!), then starting to work on the wrap to open it up.

Her eyes then move up to look at both Jane and Jemms, each in turn. "And where it comes to family, the two of you are those I can count on when on the field. Without a doubt." her tone with that heart and honesty that is so typical Daisy.

Jemma Simmons has posed:
    Despite of (or because of) Daisy's joke, Jemma cracks an actual smile. Not the practiced doctor facade she used initially...but a true, warm Jemma-brand smile. It isn't long, but it is there...and more than enough proof to show that, yes, Jemma feels the same way. She knows she can rely on her friends...which is why Jemma does step up to the altar, in this case the counter with its offerings of pastries and takeout, and confesses...

    "Well, for poor Meris, I feel personally responsible. I...I know that it was only to be a routine check, but I was the senior agent in the field and I did not leave someone behind to guard her. It was really all a blur...and we were only apart for a short duration. But...whatever it is...it only needed that small lapse to essentially drain the life force from her. I...I just can't explain why. Not yet."

    There is a breath...then Jemma continues. "And then, at the Gala, I made the decision to check the exit point. I abandoned the chapel, again for only minutes, which was all the time it needed to strike once more. If...if I had stayed there." Jemma glances up to Daisy, those soulful eyes wide and, yes, frightened. "If we had stayed there, we might have been able to stop that from happening."

    Then, the eyes drop to the countertop. "Those deaths....Meris's death. That....that is on me. It is my fault." Then, with a sniff signaling tears that Jemma is fighting back, Jemma lifts her head. "That is why I am here. Meris deserves better. Her family deserves to know what happened. I...am going to find out."

    A finger slides up, wiping a tear that somehow made it past the Brit's lockdown. The eyes catch the baubles, and the expression there is truly confusion, as the opal and silver object is placed before her. The question isn't verbal, but asked all the same.

    What are these for?

Jane Foster has posed:
That is glitter in the paper, not loose glitter. Jane would not befoul the lab or risk being shot by one of those electric nets, honestly. The paper crinkles and has perfect taping, angles creased just so, as much as one can have for the soft contents. She's added a flat slip of cardstock to keep some measure of stiffness, but not by much. With that being said, the paper tears easily to reveal a golden layer for Daisy; Jemma has soft violet. Inside is... a t-shirt. It's all very exciting.

In fairness, the Lady Jane of Midgard has a good number of t-shirts. On it is written 'Furiae' in pretty script, with a darker fabric. Pfft, white, who wears that? A darker sapphire blue with silver, another with bronze, and one with iridescent white has some weight for the design.

"Team Science," she says, pleased, and steps back to totally busy herself with reading May's AAR, presumably. Her fingers slide across the glass and toggle the interface, since pastries and Chinese food will require her hands to be free after this. Escaping her friends' notice is not entirely her place.

"The building was under attack, from what I heard, Jemma. In the heat of the moment of someone propelling a half-ton vehicle full of gasoline and a combustion engine at the entrance, are you really going to be judged for making a stand as you did? We're not all Captain Marvel." Right, she knows who that is. "Remember Metropolis? If something hit us, there was a game over at the end. You can of course feel guilt and sorrow, but we make the best decisions we can at the time. Living in the past asking what you might have done differently doesn't release the stress, not always. There's a fine point to when we can acknowledge the lessons and mourn for the loss, but we must move forward having drawn the wisdom the experience offers."

She grimaces a little, the silvery pang settling like a weight. A weight that glows warmly all the same, all too familiar. "I was at the Gala too. I didn't think to put anyone in the Fuentiduena Chapel beyond Patrick, and he died because of that choice. If I assigned him to the Early Gothic Hall..." She gestures. "He was so happy to take the role. And we delivered him to the morgue, and back to his family in a box. They couldn't say goodbye. They could not show him for a farewell. In this," she sighs at the sight of tears and the groove raking down her back with a talon, "I understand. I honour that pain of yours, and think you made the right choice going out. You had every reason to secure the perimeter in case of an escape. Someone chose differently."

Go ahead and open it.

Mary Jane Watson has posed:
Which might be an awkward time for a trainee to come into the room, but Mary Jane Watson does have a bit of a habit of showing up at interesting moments, regardless. She has a plain paper bag in her arms, and the smells coming off of it definitely identify it as 1) Chinese takeout and 2) delicious.

The agent-in-training blinks a bit as she sees Jemma has company already, but nods towards the other two, "Oh, hey, um... hope I'm not interrupting anything? I just figured Agent Simmons could use a bit of takeout." Because, well, it's not like /someone/ from the Hyborean Era has been pestering MJ for a sword like Agent Whitman's, anyway.

Daisy Johnson has posed:
Ok, Daisy is getting curious with this gift. The paper gives way to ravenous curiosity from the Quaker until she finds the t-shirt underneath. Furiae? So they are starting to go official. It brings a smile to Daisy as well, one of her warm ones. "We still need to decide how to sell this to Fury." she says as an aside..

Yet further experimentation takes a break. She looks at Jemms, the strain there on her friend. "Jane is right. We do what we can to be successful, to make sure every Agent returns home safe in the end. It's not always possible, and even Captain Marvel has had her failings." at least she thinks so. She isn't sure... "It also doesn't mean we should simply conform ourselves to what happened, but learn from it."

"It's like Phil told me once.." Pfff, calling Coulson by his first name. "It's when we stop feeling anything about those who fall under our command that we should rethink and consider that perhaps leading is not our call. And that certainly isn't the case here. All this to say though, that when you make a call on the field again Jemms I will follow it without hesitation." because that's how Daisy rolls, full trust in her family.

And perhaps in a show of what exactly Daisy meant when she told MJ that everyone in SHIELD is her family she reaches up with her hands, placing each on one of the other Furies' shoulders (if they don't dodge awaaaaay) "So we look forward to the future, and make sure they pay for what they did."

Hands fall back down and she glances over her shoulder to MJ. "Hey MJ." she greets her, smile opening further. "Come in, is that chinese? We got pastries here and .., steel-reinforced shrimp. We are still unsure on how many teeth we will be keeping after it but ...., you are welcome to join."

Jemma Simmons has posed:
    While Daisy devours the thin paper barrier, Jemma is more precise. A surgical strike, err, a corner is tugged, just enough for fingers to pry up the cardstock layer, those brown eyes peering in. Seeing what lies beneath causes the grey pallor that was Jemma's face to disperse with a flush of red....but not of embarrassment, but of joy. It is enough to pull her out of her funk, as Jemma turns with a bright, truly bright, smile towards Jane. "Doctor Foster, you shouldn't have." There...even might be a girlish giggle to escape from the normal composed Jemma. Yes, that gift was certainly well-timed.

    The acknowledgement of Coulson's words receives a nod from Jemma. "He...is a very astute man." Jane's insight is also greeted. "Well, when you put it that way, yes, I suppose using a van as a ballistic missile would be construed as extenuating circumstances. And, I really am sorry for leaving the Fuentiduena Chapel. I suppose you are right...we really had no concept of what was going to happen." A beat. "It doesn't absolve me of my responsibility...but, it does help to put the situation in perspective. Thank you, dear Jane."

    And...to Daisy. "Yes. There will be a reckoning. Of that, I am sure."

    Those brown eyes look up towards the newcomer as a smile....again a true smile...greets Mary Jane. "Hello, Agent Watson. It would seem that today is the day of unexpected, but welcomed, surprises. How may I be of service?" The mention of Chinese takeout earns Daisy a sideward glance, as Jemma adds. "Chinese? Has Agent Johnson been teaching you bad habits?" The glance gives way to a sly grin, still just a touch sad...but this is familiar territory for Jemma, so she knows the steps well. "Or, should I ask what can Research and Development make for you today?"

Jane Foster has posed:
Pastries as sweet, steel something shrimp for the road. All those kinds of elements come together in a space that's more social than scientific at the moment. Psychotherapy aside, which Jane is not (oddly) qualified for, Jemma's laboratory brings a certain rare peace to the world. It anchors matters, anyway.

The appearance of MJ is marked over ticking off confirmation she read the AAR put out there for her, and others, to check out. She wouldn't be worthy of her particular role if she failed to read. That smile gets a lift. "Bad habits? Not a chance, Trainee Watson." Trainee, ooh, bad title. It earns a nose wrinkle, at least that. "R&D has done some worthy sampling. We are pursuing different courses."

Literal courses: first, appetizer; second: self-help entree; third: more helpings; fourth: secondsies.

Fury's Furiae: they have their own t-shirts. She isn't hiding hers under a lab coat or anything. "We just start doing it and he adjusts. Isn't that how it always works? I would be shocked if there was disagreement, anyway." Where are chopsticks? Chopsticks are needed, something to flip and poke around with. "Agent Coulson is a wise man. He points out the importance of one factor above all: care. We are here because we do care. Those who don't try to enslave cities or flatten society. They live a miserably unfulfilled life." That's a bleak truth be as it may, but she honours it with a nod, acknowledging such with a sweep of her hand. "In Coulson we trust. And from Fury, we sidestep nicely and hide. With our Furiae t-shirts, to confound him. He won't know what hit him. I thought about a coat but that's simply too bulky."

Furiae! Assemble!

Except put it in Latin and add some sparkly stars. She winks at MJ. "We might have to eat out of the box, basically. I promise not to tell Vogue if you don't!"

Mary Jane Watson has posed:
MJ grins at Daisy, "It is indeed Chinese. Pineapple duck, garlic chicken, and beef chow mein." She pauses, then adds, "Oh, and pork buns." Apparently she did a bit of studying and research, in the classic SHIELD way.

Then she flashes a smile at Jemma, "I mean, Sonja was getting onto saying something of a pep talk when all the craziness started at the Church, so I figured that I'd come by to see how you were doing. Though you can call me Mary Jane, or MJ, if you want." She nods over towards Daisy already using the familiar calling card, and then she ahems.

"Well, it's not /just/ a R&D request. But I heard the stories, so... yeah, I really liked Agent Whitman's sword. And would like to get something similar, if possible, please?" She grins cheerfully, "Though the food is for you regardless, I mainly wanted to make sure you were doing alright." She chuckles a bit at Jane's comment about Vogue, "My metabolism is pretty boosted... my boyfriend is stunned sometimes by how much I can put away when I put my mind to it." She grins cheerfully and sets the bag down in a convenient spot, breaking out the telltale cartons of Chinese food for everyone.

Daisy Johnson has posed:
A look between Jemms and MJ is given, Daisy lifting an indignant brow. "Bad habits..? I'd never..." then she says in a stage-whisper to MJ. "What did I tell you? Never chinese on the first time..! It'd look suspicious!" but a wink is then given, a bit of a tease to the trainee.

"So.., a lightsaber?" She mmms, thoughtful. But that's the kind of talk best left to the experts in the matter! She's the hacker with a penchant for shaking!

"And it's a cunning plan, Jane. We show it up, he won't be able to deny it ..., may even say it was the plan all along, yes... I can see it now." And when her friends are happy Daisy appears to be as well. Her expression can't help but lift at Jemma's giggle at the shirt.

"We will need to go and put these shirts to good use." A pause then when they talk about Coulson. She offers a solemn nod. "Yea, if it wasn't for Coulson, I have no idea where I'd be. He is the real heart of this place." yes, there is quite the fond feeling for Coulson from this Agent. Yet was there any doubt considering her history?

She begins unwrapping the foods for consumption. It was time for some serious eating! "Hoodies. Those could work too!" Because of course an hacktivist loves hoodies ...

Jemma Simmons has posed:
    Another glance towards Daisy and Jemma just shakes her head in mild (dis)belief. Oh, she knows what that 'classic SHIELD' research is. That means 'ask the trainer the goods.' Still, Jemma does not seem to mind at all, instead focusing on the fact that Trainee Watson, no...Mary Jane is worried about her. As is her cross-temporal mental passenger. "Yes, Mary Jane. And Sonja...." Addressing both personas...Jemma does read her dossiers. "It would seem that you both share similar sentiments with my fellow Furiae here." And, with that, Jemma indicates both Daisy and Jane. "As you can see, we have enough sustenance to not have to leave the lab for at least a day, though decidedly less if Fitz finds out there are pastries, shrimp, and Chinese takeout in the lab." With that, Jemma tips a wink..."It is a surefire ploy to get in his good graces, I assure you." Hence...the rumour of the food bribes.

    And...yes, Jemma said Furiae out loud. In front of others. If it wasn't a thing before, it is now. After all, once there is a T-shirt made, then it is officially a thing. And...since it was said in the laboratories, now it is recorded with date and time stamp for all eternity. Just wait until Fury and Hill watch that surveillance footage....

    Then, with mention of Dane's unique equipment, Jemma focuses on MJ. "The photonic sword." It isn't a statement. Jemma knew exactly what Sonja would be interested in. "I do believe that the sword is Agent Whitman's own design, so to create an exact facsimile would be rather bad form, at least without his input. However..." And with that, Jemma holds up a finger, as a thought seems to leap into her head. "...that's not to say that we cannot use his design as an inspiration. A springboard into other applications." Jemma takes a short walk to her lab station, swiping her tablet from the workstation and walking it over to the food counter. "Do you have any preferences of design? Abilities? Weight? Oh, but I do hope you are not as finicky as Agent Ward when it comes to weight. I cannot tell you how long it took Fitz and I to perfect the ICERS so that it wasn't overweight by an ounce." The eyeroll is pronounced as Jemma slides into an impression of someone...probably this mysterious Ward. "I'm Agent Grant Ward...and I can shoot the wings off a fly from 10 yards away...but not if the barrel's over an ounce from perfect weight."

Mary Jane Watson has posed:
Mary Jane rolls her eyes a little at Jemma's description of Ward, "Oh, one of /those/." She grins a bit, apparently very familiar with that type of person. Or else Sonja is.

Though, really, both of them probably are. And then Mary Jane chuckles a bit, "Well, yeah, wasn't thinking of copying it completely, but a similar concept. Weight isn't too big a thing, especially if the blade is going to mostly energy, though the balance might be something to consider. Since there'd still be some momentum to worry about, energy blade or not."

She then glances between Daisy and Jane, giving Jemma a warm grin, "But yeah, don't beat yourself up because of what the bad guys do. Learn from what happened and then kick 'em in the teeth next time they try it." She hmms, and pauses, "That's actually a bit more polite than how Sonja was going to put it, but yeah."

Jane Foster has posed:
"Lightsabers are becoming all the rage. Kylo moments for everyone?" The quip from the bemused astrophysicist probably speaks to often Jane fights with anything. "We might just need to put together a roundtable, Jemma, and come up with good ideas for self-defense. Where we might vary a little. I don't think we can attempt anything too much like force projection, as convenient as that would be, but the electrified baton effect might be a good one?"

She is not wading into the question of shrimp or pastries, she is going after the rice. Mmm, delicious goodness to be drowned in sauce. Happiness is found in the bottom of a container. "I am still going to regret this. Delicious." She waves a hand to the Furiae matter too, grinning at Daisy and then nodding at Jemma. "See? Friends have your back. This, you will learn, MJ, is the heart of what we do. It isn't science or powerful weapons, it's eating dinner together because we can."

She does, however, dip her head in thought. "Without stepping on Dane's toes, his sword is rather unique to him. We might want to speak with him, partly because his refinements were probably substantive. Different options here, though, especially considering how good we've become at electrifying people."

Who *is* that Ward?

Daisy Johnson has posed:
Oh, great. Sure, talk about Ward. There is a bit of a shift on Daisy's expression. "Yes, that sounds just like Ward." down to the eyeroll, but then she brings her hand up to her cheek, scratching at it. Hiding some kind of blush there? Nah!!! Because whoever gets a crush on their first trainer, mmm? "Great chin, just a bit too full of himself sometimes.." a grin. Joking about it? Maybe!

But then she turns to the food. Oh look! And daring as she is Daisy goes for the shrimp. Steel-reinforced? Hey, don't ask her and then she puts one in her mouth .., crunchy? Oh dear. But still delicious! "Ok ..., this takes some getting used to..." she mutters about the shrimp. Time to go for the rice.

"Teamwork." She then says. "There really isn't anything stronger in SHIELD. And trusting."

"Next, about the Furiae, we need to work on a callsign. So start getting those SCIENCE brains working, mmm?" She mostly appears to leave the talk about how to better a sword to the others, thoughtful, even if she does comment. "A sword that can deliver a powerful jolt of electricity, now there's an idea. Good to stun when you aren't really wanting to slice someone into ribbons."

Jemma Simmons has posed:
    "Hmm...." Jemma misses the blush from Daisy, fortunately for Daisy. Already, she is thinking of what could be for MJ's sword. "Well, we could certainly outfit a standard sword with an electrical field. It won't be feather light, but it will be easier to provide counterweight and quicker to develop the electrical delivery system." Basically....forge a real sword and charge it up. "Otherwise, we could experiment with different materials...see if we can add other elements besides your standard taser effect..."

    Then, Jemma realizes she is roaming on a tangent...and brings herself back to focus. "But....later. As Daisy said, now is a time for a break. And, as Jane said, a break with friends, eating dinner just because we can, is better than alone."

    And, with that, Jemma allows herself to, for the moment, let work fall by the wayside. And...reaches for the pork rolls.

    Because...pork rolls.