3799/Three's Company: SHIELD Edition

Three's Company: SHIELD Edition
Date of Scene:	13 October 2020
Location:	Swordfish Bar (SHIELD)
Synopsis:	Drinks, trouble, and a black hole.
Cast of Characters:	Jane Foster, Maria Hill, Jemma Simmons, Daisy Johnson

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Jane Foster has posed:
The Swordfish isn't exactly busy. Part of that is due to a water main break in the East Village causing a rerouting of traffic, pedestrian and vehicular alike, down four streets. The wall of businesses and apartments impacted generally put out the 'closed' signs or use the afternoon opportunity to wander off to the park. Grandma's house. Somewhere not here. Oddly enough, a patch of the neighbourhood still enjoys running water and power, and the Swordfish is squished right in that mix.

So be it that Jane Foster, doctorate of too many things, sits on a chair and scowls at her laptop. The spinning symbol of death insists her laptop does something but the high level number crunching still remains a problem. Moreover, it makes odd little ticking noises to further complicate matters. "Fine, /don't/ tell me if there is an impending micro-black hole headed our way. See if I care. I'll do the math the old-fashioned way." She sets down her phone and slides out onto the floor, headed for the bar. Whomever tends there, he is now named Clawson. "Can I get a stack of napkins, please?"

Maria Hill has posed:
Maria Hill is standing at the recently added pinball machine. It says "Return of the Haunted Manor", technically, but someone slapped a piece of duct tape over the "Haunted Manor" part and Sharpied "HYDRA", with the addition of a crude HYDRA symbol. There's a sign taped up beside the pinball machine that has printed "Do Not Tilt", followed by, in handwriting "This means You" and then in additional handwriting "Seriously, It means you, Ward and Barton".

Hill is not tilting the machine, however, though she is a bit rough as she smashes the side buttons.

Jemma Simmons has posed:
    The front door (side door? Only door?) to the bar opens, allowing a hurried Jemma Simmons in. The sight of the R&D specialist isn't necessarily a common one, but she has been getting better at, you know, not working. Still, even when she isn't working she is working...like now. A regular jacket has replaced the usual labcoat she wears...but the tell-tale bulge of a SHIELD-issued tablet is noticeable in one of the deeper pockets. And, knowing Fitz, it is a little more than just a standard-issue tablet that Jemma carries.

    "I came as soon as I could." The British accent announces Jemma's arrival as uniquely as anything. The voice calls over towards Jane, even as Jemma slides over to the table that contains the poor overworked laptop. "You said you wanted some assistance in crunching numbers, or was that just a clever ploy to get me out of the research lab?" Because...it wouldn't be the first time. Already the tablet is sliding out, placed down besides the laptop. Perhaps Jemma has some bluetooth-y tricks up her sleeve?

    A quick glance is given over towards the pinball machine....and if anyone is looking, Jemma actually stiffens slightly. She sits up a little straighter, though she doesn't immediately call out her recognition. No....nothing to see here. Only saving the world from impending doom. Again.

Jane Foster has posed:
Ward and Barton tipping the pinball machine is certain to be a constant concern. Jane acquires that sheaf of paper napkins without too much question; R&D and the science big brains can be weird, after all. Clawson follows up with a glass of water poured, just in case. He eyes Maria up in case she telepathically signals intent for coffee, liquor, or someone's pink slip.

The plunk of cheap serviettes on the table makes little sound, but Jane goes for a collection of pens stuck in her bag. Never without a writing implement, she is just pulling out the pair of blue and one black pens as Jemma enters. "Furiae assemble," she dryly offers as a greeting. "I'd almost say we want to rouse Daisy but she might grimace at the wifi out there. Green pen; this one is going to work beyond Friedmann Equation and play around with the Hubble parameter on a microscopic rather than macroscopic scale. Think, hmm, constrained between a football and a city block. I'm putting my money on the football." The round shape of her hands gives up the dimensions being more British. "I want to see if this really /is/ doable, because Benson's team put out their specs this morning. CERN is already saying it's not doable."

Maria Hill has posed:
Hill glances over to the eggheads-- specialists-- at the table with their maths and other such. If its important, they'll let her know. For now...

More smashing of buttons, keeping the pinball aloft up the machine. So far she is still on her first ball, and has been for almost 20 minutes. She will get a drink when she loses this one.

Jemma Simmons has posed:
    "Daisy would be amazed I am actually outside the Triskelion. After that little tropical island vacation of mine, Fitz has been rather adamant that I stay within eyesight of the lab. Lucky for me he needs to sleep sometime. Even if it is on that ridiculous cot he established in the lab." The tablet slides around to be in front of Jemma, even as the laptop continues to chug along.

    Then, as Jane goes through the formulas, Jemma is tapping notes. "So, you really believe that this collection of individuals actually might be able to create a mini black hole? Enough to be able to detect? Are they crazy? Anything that has enough mass for us to detect is infinitely dangerous." That....explains why Jemma didn't waste any time. She may not be an astrophysicist. But...she likes living. And mini black holes threaten that if not worked out precisely.

Jane Foster has posed:
"Daisy would. I'm going to say this warrants a proper drink. Maybe Bailey's. Do you want anything?" An offer to the general bar might be dangerous, but Jane may have a little less trouble picking up the tab given how few there are. She shakes her head and fails to perch on a chair." @emit "Daisy would. I'm going to say this warrants a proper drink. Maybe Bailey's. Do you want anything?" An offer to the general bar might be dangerous, but Jane may have a little less trouble picking up the tab given how few there are. She shakes her head, brown hair tumbling over her shoulders. "Good afternoon, Deputy Director," she calls lightly in Maria's direction. "I had no idea we had pinball machines here. Or in most of New York. Are those still a thing?" She glances back to Jemma for confirmation, rubbing her temple with the palm of her hand. "Maybe I've been under a rock, but I swear I never noticed it here before. Who has the high score, anyway?"

All's well in that direction as she gives a rueful chuckle. "I think they're of a mind like Fitz; push the limits. Most of that has to be a writeoff, but what's better than writing up some math on the back of a napkin? Maybe we can devise a car engine that runs off of it in the meantime."

Maria Hill has posed:
"Ward currently. Not for much longer." Hill responds as to who had the high score, not looking away from the machine as it rings and dings, the silver ball bouncing around inside it. Hill's eyes narrow as the ball threatens to hop over into an area she can't defend it from falling... but it doesn't quite, and she continues to rack up points.

Daisy Johnson has posed:
Confirmed Daisy being the devil, because but speak her name and here she is, making her way past the front door for some well deserved R&R at the Swordfish! And she well thinks she deserves it after spending so long under some tarp doing surveillance, which just makes her shoulders and knees hurt. Not getting any younger, are you Daisy?!

She is making her way over to the bar for a drink when she notes the familiar faces gathered, both the two Furiae and then Hill herself. She only catches the rear-end of what they are talking but of course that she talks about it. "Ward? What's that rascal up to?" they aren't on-duty! Rascal is a good word!

A wave is then offered. "Heya everyone, what kind of catastrophe made you leave the lab this time?" she asks, offering a teasing wink to the two furiae.

Jemma Simmons has posed:
    Off-duty? Is that even a term in Jemma's vocabulary? Probably not. Jemma offers the straight answer. "There is a group that thinks they are able to create a mini black hole with enough mass to be detectable. A black hole of any detectible size has the propensity for massive destruction...and that is the best case scenario. Jane has asked for assistance in calculating the possibility, since her poor laptop is having just a little issue trying to calculate on the cosmic scale." Jemma sounds like she is kidding...but her expression doesn't change. She is not joking in the slightest.

    And...while a drink may be warranted, Jemma declines. "I have a feeling I will need full use of my mental facilities until after this little conundrum is solved, for good or for ill." Director Hill gets a glance...but she seems rather focused on that pinball machine. And really...Hill scares Jemma. Just a little. So if she is happy with the game for now, then so be it.

Maria Hill has posed:
A few more cheerful pinball noises come from the machine before a sudden curse and a "whomp whomp whooooomp". Still shy of Ward's score, but two balls left. Hill gestures for a drink to take a pause before she shoots the second round into the machine.

Daisy Johnson has posed:
"I think I have enough experience by now to know when you are doing a Jemms-joke..., and that certainly isn't one.." Which just seems to worry Daisy more, both her brows arching up at Jemma. "So you are talking about a nuke in the form of a black hole. Any idea of what group may be trying this?" one hand runs up across her hair and she shakes her head to herself. The mention of a drink does make Daisy speak up again though, eyeing E at the bar.

"I will have hers.", the response coming swiftly. "I have just the drink for you, Daisy Johnson." a whiskey on the rocks coming up and placed on the counter. "Do enjoy."

With Hill calling for a drink and Daisy now close to the counter she asks her, "What is your poison, Deputy Director?"

Jemma Simmons has posed:
    There is a small nod from the British scientist. "Indeed. The idea of a man-made black hole was theoretical at best. But, if this group has the capability...." Jemma just trails off, as she plugs in some numbers into her tablet. As far as who? Well, Jemma points towards Jane, as the real astrophysicist is currently bent down over her napkins, scribbling equations. "Jane would know for sure. The basic details I got is that it is a group preparing to present their findings at the Identification of Dark Matter Conference in a couple of weeks. We...really want to disprove this, because having a mini black hole is more than simply a nuclear fission bomb. It is tantamount to every fission bomb currently in existence, combined into the size of a football." Again, Jemma uses the British equivalent of football, nice and round rather than oblong.

Daisy Johnson has posed:
"My heart hurts of seeing you both at work here at the Swordfish. It should be forbidden..." But Daisy lets out a resigned sigh. "Even if I understand the urgency of it all.." with drinks now having been distributed she is back to their table, taking a drink out of her whiskey.

"If you guys need more computation power I am sure we can request some SHIELD resources for it." then she leaning over to say in a stage-whisper. "I may be able to put in a good word with the cyber department."

"And if you need any help, you know I am always willing to assist as you know."