4025/Chez Daisy

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Chez Daisy
Date of Scene: 04 November 2020
Location: 6C - Matt Murdock
Synopsis: The Furiae gather at Matt and Daisy's place for dinner where they meet the fuzzy Boxer.
Cast of Characters: Daisy Johnson, Jane Foster, Jemma Simmons




Daisy Johnson has posed:
Rendezvous chez Daisy.

Messages had been exchanged on the Furiae whatsapp, a night for a meeting, afterwork hours. And sure sure, Daisy knew SOME people thought life was all about being out on the lab. But there are other things! Like going to a friend's place for dinner and talk. Of course that Daisy and cooking? Perhaps not the best of combinations but at least she was trying, between making sure Boxer, her cat, didn't attack the spaguetti she was getting on going, or the meatballs. He was a tenacious little one so already he was on a corner munching down while Daisy eyed him. "You may have won the battle, but not the war..."

Matthew wasn't home this week, out on a business trip, which meant they had the house for themselves. Right in the middle of Hell's Kitchen, the place the Defenders and a certain Daredevil had claimed their place to be. What were the odds that Daisy would know even one of them though?!

But right now what she could do was wait. Hopefully they would bring some nice complements to the food. Wine and desserts she had requested through the group!

Jane Foster has posed:
Furiae assemble, baby!

Jane manages to get away from the task of dealing with wonderfully talented knights, starry night apps, and a slew of podcasting. Freedom from those concerns shines brightly in Jane's eyes, after all, at least from the work component. The other side, the one in which she has a happy life with friends and family, is treasured beyond words.

Still, she knows to bring her usual blessings along as a housewarming present. A bottle of good apple cider, the hard kind, speaks to her origins on the West Coast. A tasty key lime pie speaks to wanting warmer weather, and who can blame her? Regardless, she blithely arrives at the requested time, and balances that delectable vision of happiness in both her arms whilst awaiting someone to answer the door. Hey, though, Hell's Kitchen is definitely worth the visit! Especially what with the brunette avid about all parts of New York. Mm, food.

"Yoohoo, my favourite Daisy! A forester has come to visit."

Jemma Simmons has posed:
It does not take long for a certain British national to arrive as well.

For Jemma, it was a relatively difficult proposition to leave the lab. But not beyond her capabilities. It was more a matter of waiting until Fitz was particularly engrossed in a design, then sneaking out. Because heaven forbid that Jemma Simmons actually engage in activities outside of the lab. SCIENCE was not to be denied!!

Except for today. Science can wait. Friends come first.

And so, just as Jane calls out for Daisy, Jemma manages to make her appearance. In one hand is a container of a positively British dessert, sticky toffee pudding. And...in the other is a bag, tall and slender. Within is a bottle of Chapel Down sparkling wine. Seems someone knows of a proper British grocer somewhere in New York. A wide smile is given towards Jane as the scientist approaches, though she doesn't call out to Daisy. Not yet.

Seems Jemma wants to give Daisy a little surprise when she opens the door.

Daisy Johnson has posed:
"Your favorite Daisy? What do you mean? There's another Daisy in your life! Oh my dear heart...." The OG Daisy replies when she goes to open the door to receive Jane, grinning wide at her friend and gesturing for her to come in. "Good that you could make it. Still waiting on Jemms, she hasn't really said much but I am taking her silence as confirmation that she is coming!" that's how it goes, right?

Inside, just beyond the entry hall there's a russian blue looking on, on ground level as if on the prowl and watching whomever may be coming in. It hides behind a foot of a table, as if it would provide perfect cover. Watching and measuring.

As for Daisy, she has yet to notice the sneaky lab scientist who is making her way after Jane. She has her back to the door and is motioning for Jane to get herself comfortable.

"Welcome, welcome to our humble abode." Daisy says. Already the waft of her cooking can be smelled. Italian was on the menu today it seemed.

Jane Foster has posed:
The lab shimmers with possibilities, the city with lineups and endless queue jumping. Not a safe place for the likes of a Jemma to roam freely. All the thrills of a joyous occasion might be enough to pull her out of the scientific cocoon, just as Jane descends from the stars to admire more terrestrial concerns. Quake, a party, and food.

"Hello, neighbour," Jane asides softly, though it could be just about anyone she's speaking to. Matt can't spill the beans on that one, anyway. It's a blessing in disguise, as it were. The singularity of a joke isn't shining too brightly to be given away, and so the bright-eyed young woman waits on tenterhooks. When the door threatens to open, not even creaking, she bounces onto her toes and grins at the Russian blue fuzz ball. Daisy follows anew. "There could be flowers, not that we tend to let them grow on the lawn much. Dane hunts them like nothing. It smells amazing in there. Have you been at this all day?"

She offers up the pie and the cider bags; let someone choose. "Gifts! I come bearing the finest of foods from the northerly and southern extremes of the continental, contiguous US. We don't include Maine; they're but a disappointment."

Jemma Simmons has posed:
"Oh, but Maine tries hard." That soft lilting tone, complete with proper pronunciation, murmurs just behind Daisy as she lets in not one, but two stray Furiae from the horrors of the mundane and routine to a more enjoyable social setting. A slight elbow sneaks its way past to tenderly poke Daisy in the side, as the brunette bounds her way inside the loft apartment. "As far as my humble offerings, only some of the finest the empire has to offer. See what you all miss out on by declaring that silly independence."

Then, with a small giggle, Jemma steps into Daisy's view, with her own offering of pudding and sparkling wine. "Alas, my home is rather bland. Though much more welcoming than that silly cot that someone insists to keep in his workstation." No names mentioned here, but everyone knows who. "Though, I suppose a floral arraignment or two would liven things up in there. Not that anyone would get to see it much anyways." A tip of the wink is given to Daisy. "And yes, I did see the invite. I couldn't very well accept it with prying eyes over my shoulder. I thought surprising you would be the order of the day."

Daisy Johnson has posed:
"Help, I am being assaulted by Furiaes!" Daisy replies good naturedly when she feels the elbow poke on her side. She grins at her friend, resting one hand on her shoulder and then closing the door behind the duo. "Syncronized arrivals? I like it." she peers at the offerings brought by both Jane and Jemms. "Well, you have outdone yourselves. As for dinner, well, hope it will be up to expectations. And I have been up embroiled in it for ..., a while now." look, she had to watch a few Youtube videos ok? They teach a lot.

She gestures to the rather large living room, very sparse of furniture to the exception of the sofas, a small table. A wall had a shelf with some books but that one seemed new, and hers, considering she lived with a blind lawyer. Off to a corner there's a large training space too, weights. A punching bag. Is it all for her? Who knows!

The russian blue, follows, from sneaky place to sneaky place, still looking up at the two intruders. Though he certainly looks more interested in those BAGS. And the desserts within. Bottomless well of fooding that one is.

"Well, the important people would see it." *wink* *wink* But Daisy has always been a tease where it came to FitzSimmons and shipping them. "On hindsight, maybe we should had invited him too. To get him out of the lab, but he probably would had hidden inside his cot, mmmm." she ponders. Chocolate briberies did work last time so perhaps there is hope.

Jane Foster has posed:
A pivotal fraction of motion might reveal more of Jemma, the woman outlined in all her mathematical rigors of brunette glory. That's the way they fly this boat, anyway. The sneaky elbow Jemma employs probably isn't lost by Jane, though her vivid gaze simmers with mischief and prospects of delight. A crooked smile lifts as she takes in the apartment, slipping off her boots once freed up from some kind of burden, perhaps. "Maine is no more than Massachusetts that fled into the woods and shouted, 'Nyah nyah' from their isolated fortress. Pines and firs do not a separate state make, trust me." A wink shows all the same, and she chuckles when mention of Fitz's cot is raised. "At least there's a cot. I hear some of the senior agents have hammocks."

Do they? Indeed, it might seem so. The corner of her mouth dimpled with amusement, she offers hugs for those who want them from the slender crook of her arms. It's a nice enough space to be in, and she absorbs it all. "This is city living. You have much more space than I anticipated people in the Kitchen would. Hello, handsome meowzer. You've been on our feeds a few times. Eowyn should be jealous of your fanciful fluffiness. How is everything going today, otherwise?"

Jemma Simmons has posed:
The gentle tease from Daisy in terms of Jemma's relationship status (or lack of it) completely misses her. Because there is a cat. And the cat must be given proper fealty. There is a smile for Director Furry (oh yes, Jemma knows of the secret identity) and then it is a matter of freeing her hands for proper hugging technique. This is accomplished by placing the bags upon the small table, then an embrace is given to Jane, followed by Daisy (if not both together).

"Indeed, this is rather spacious! And rather lively with colour." There is a slight nod to the billboard across the way with all its neon glory. "It makes for a rather entertaining space, I certainly grant you." The question of status is given a smile. "Everything is rather well. Especially at this particular moment. Though I am hardly exciting enough to have anything else other than rather bland activities, with few exceptions." For exceptions there has been...and Jemma won't deny those.

Daisy Johnson has posed:
Yes, the hugs are certainly returned. Daisy offers one to Jane, then to Jemma as they make their ways in. Bags being placed on a table though? That means an invitation. It approaches tentatively, letting out a meow, back arched and it's tail up. It's still somewhat small, perhaps 3 or 4 months old but already springing about like a little rascal, jumping up to the table. Jane's calling to him elicits another meow and it starts nosing about.

"Hammocks..?" Daisy makes a face. "I knew there's a reason I am glad I didn't get into SHIELD through the traditional ways." of course that it makes her look to Jemma. Perhaps to confirm the hammocks! The mention of the billboard makes her look that way, smacking her lips together. "Yea...., I have been tempted to have that billboard get an ..., accident. I think it's part of why Matt got this place so cheap." She says. "He's out of town for a couple of days." she makes her way over to the kitchen at an hurried step afterwards, perhaps remembering something. "One sec!"

The cat overlord then moves closer after seeing his search for food denied. Damn not having opposable thumbs! So it's time for plan B. He approaches Jane and Jemma, still up on the table, sniffing at them and meowing again.

"Fall not for his charms!" Daisy calls from the kitchen. "He is a conniving cat." like all of them! "Though I have been good, well... As good as one can be with all the crazy." she lets out a sigh.

Jane Foster has posed:
Hugs count for so much, exerting their own gravitational pull upon Jemma, Daisy, and Jane in the middle. She certainly isn't bound to resist other forms of hello, but that swallows up some of the weariness and fatigue that NYC inevitably brings. Even urbanites can find the big city wearying, but it's not too bad when borne on more shoulders than her own. Still, the slender arc of a smile follows Jemma extricating herself to greet the cat in kind. "It's a lovely spot, and I appreciate you making time and space for us. Impressive to be in the heart of it, too. I heard great things about a bodega around the corner, and authentic too. Mmm, the best thing is finding all the unexpected gems whenever you go down a different street. New York is like much of Western Europe squashed together, when it comes to that."

The bags can be carried wherever and desserts, wine and cider, and other things shunned. Her own coat will be discarded last, after she has done her duty as a guest with two working hands and legs. Certainly to support Daisy's efforts at cooking. "That really is going to spoil us, you know. Dry canteen food no longer sounds appetizing."

When the cat hops up, she's not about to resist him, holding out her fingers to be sniffed or to scritch yon ears. "Hello, darling. You'll have to tell Matt that we were excellent guests and affirm no one gave Daisy any problems." Winking at the guardian, taking little seriously anyway, she turns to the window and peers at the billboard. "You know, I wouldn't blame you if the paper peeled off one night. Terrible how such things happen. I haven't convinced Dane moving into the city proper is worth it; he prefers Staten Island for the time being. Something about 'yard' and 'garage.' But there are days... I may just have to set up a slumber party in the planetarium." She grins, conniving cat having already won a bit of the race by charming her.

Jemma Simmons has posed:
Oh, the cat will not be denied. Though, at least for the moment, the cat seems properly distracted with Jane, allowing Jemma a little bit of free will. "Oh, I would have to admit that I am quite out of the loop when it comes to current affairs. I do feel that it may be a calculated gesture than not, but nevertheless, it has kept me quite confined to the lab." A shrug, then Jemma continues. "Yes, yes, I know. I should get out more. I am still trying as such, though circumstances are trying rather hard to keep me sheltered."

Then, with a half of a smile given to the cat, Jemma lifts her eyes up towards the kitchen. "I know you were asked before, dear Daisy, but are you sure you couldn't use some assistance? I feel positively useless if I am not at least offering some sort of assistance." Yes...Jemma doesn't exactly know how to relax yet, it would seem.

Daisy Johnson has posed:
"Josie's?" Daisy inquires then lets out a laugh. "Yea, that's a bodega alright. But perhaps puts too much of the dive into the bar." she sounding amused while speaking up from the kitchen, tending on to their dinner. "Great place though! And I agree, Matt has been showing me about, he has this uncanny way of knowing all the great spots." guess why?! "But with him having worked for pies for a time here in Hell's Kitchen it's made him rather popular out there. A celebrity almost."

"And well, about the food.. To tell you a secret I *almost* ordered out at the Royal Dragon. But I am guessing you guys would be tired of chinese takeout by now." because yep, that's a constant when Daisy goes to the lab!

The cat certainly doesn't mind the pettings and now that the initial suspicion is done he allows the pettings, rubbing head against skin, certainly enjoying the attention. As cats do.

"Well, you can help by getting the plates ready here in the kitchen. It's where we usually eat so ..., no fancy table in the living room for us to eat at. Expect small, cozy chairs and table." she warns them.

"Can't stray a man out of his pet things apparently. Yard and garage for Dane. Suits and ties for Matt." she rolls her eyes. "It's a struggle!"

Jane Foster has posed:
"It might have been. The other is Zaragoza. They have just about everything." Jane, purveyor of local lore, doesn't hold a candle to the actual Devil of Hell's Kitchen, but someone has to read those review guides and gather local lore. It's part of the job. It also helps her ancient origins hidden behind a golden clasp might be stirred to awaken now and then. A languishing chuckle echoes from her lips, strung by mirth as the option rises. "He has a talent does he? We'll have to take advantage of that. I hope to meet him one of these days, too. Promise not to be /that/ coworker."

Hands rise in innocent poise, palms out, such as they may be. "You know, I could live off Chinese most of the time, but Italian smells /so/ good. You aren't going to lose any points from me, trust me." She withdraws her hands to rest on her hips, a grin in place. "Tell me how I can help? Do you need anyone to stir or put out forks, chase off bats? Okay, plates! Got it." That much answered, she sashays off to find said plates, pulling them out and carrying them to the table. Three to be portioned out, the source of so much contentment. "Don't need to justify anything with me. My dad and I had a folding table at one point, so fancy settings and the best china more belong to TV shows than real life. You've /seen/ my fieldwork, right? It's a win if we have a chair at all." Especially if it's not covered in grit or lightning. Because that's that.

Jemma Simmons has posed:
"Honestly, it isn't like any of us could speak to having semblance of normalcy. At least, not with what the average layman would consider normal." With a nod, Jemma lets Jane carry on with the plates, while the scientist proceed with procuring flatware for appropriate food consumption. The only problem with non-Chinese food...the lack of utensils delivered to you. It only takes Jemma three tries to find the appropriate drawer, but drawer she did find and out come the forks.

Once the forks are arraigned and the plates are out, it is time for Jemma to entertain the true master of the house...Boxer himself. Slender fingertips reach out, palm upward, to allow the cat to inspect this newcomer. And, once accepted, the hand slowly rotates, to pet as appropriate. The touch is gentle, almost skittish, but welcoming enough to allow the cat to do as he would.

Daisy Johnson has posed:
While the trio busy themselves with food and utensils to eat such food with the little rascal goes back to it's attack on the bags. Relentless! At least until it gets bored and goes off in search of more fun. Whimsical creatures these cats can be.

As for Daisy ... "Zaragoza? Uh ..." She ponders a moment. "Now there's one I haven't tried! Something tells me you have scouring the interwebz in search of places, Jane." a teasing grin. She knows her friend is prone to that. Always be informed of a place they visit! Either for work or not. "And .., hol' up. What do you mean with /that/ coworker? I fully intend to introduce him to you guys! Could had been tonight but ..., business can't stop." and if the taste might not be the best at least the smell of her cooking is good enough. She is even a little proud of herself.

Boxer eventually comes in, just in time to receive Jemma-pettings. It's quite the spoiled cat truly, sniffing and then allowing said hand to offer pets to the master of the house. He does seem friendly enough at least. Quite the socialite.

"Yea, all the fancy stuff just doesn't feel ..., real. Of course that I am not used to it either. Orphanage and all that. The food *is* better though, I promise." she chuckles. Uff, she wouldn't want anyone to taste the orphanage food she used to eat.

"Have you guys made any further advancement on that black hole case you were looking into? The potential bomb that could be crafted out of it?" Capital sin! Talking of work during such a fine dinner. But now it all seems ready. Dishes on the quaint little table so it's time to start spreading food around. Spaguetti with meatballs! A classic.

Jane Foster has posed:
"Zaragoza, that's what I know about it. Give me a shop with tasty food or a place to dine with my friends, and I'm a pretty content soul. It helps not to worry so much about eye-watering prices like much of Manhattan. The Kitchen's always managed to dodge that issue, hasn't it?" Jane peeks out the window for a moment as she gives Jemma and Boxer's greeting a smile, though she doesn't care to crowd either of them. A playful air still dances around her, the spoiled Russian sure to be acknowledged when dinner isn't so much of an issue. The sort of issue that means sharing plates and hauling over dishes, filling her arms and imperiling her footing. It's the best time for a cat to weave around her ankles.

"Business never stops. I understand that, believe you me. It's good enough to have a chance to get away from it all, even if our pastimes are uncommon. I doubt we have a normal hobby among us. I certainly don't knit or have time to watch baking shows at length, no matter how much I wish I could."

The fanciful prospects of a meal set to the side, she helps to wipe down the counter or carry more as Daisy might need. Orphanage earning a bit of a blink, she doesn't add to that. No need, especially not with fragrant spaghetti. "I've been able to decipher one does not simply /make/ dark matter. Having enough to generate a microblack hole is... ridiculous, to say the least. I know with conventional abilities, it can't be done with what we have. Of course, there's probably a superhero out there who generates them every time he burps."

Jemma Simmons has posed:
Jemma does leave poor Boxer to fend for further affection later as she detaches herself to arraign the alcoholic offerings on the table. The pie and pudding she shifts to reside off to the side. No sense putting dessert in front of dinner! Then, really, it is just a matter of locating appropriate glassware and the place settings are, well, in place.

The biochemist allows for Jane to answer about the black holes, before she chimes in. "That is always a variable. Genetic anomalies or some sort of freak cosmic accident to allow for the generation of dark matter in a method not previously envisioned. Really, it is a toss-up. And honestly, if there was the possibility that there is an individual that had the ability to generate that sort of hazard, then weaponizing microblack holes are the least of our issues."

Daisy Johnson has posed:
"It feels a lot more cozy than the rest of it, yea." Daisy admits, nodding her head in agreement to Jane. "So the prices follow. It's always been a zone with some crime so.., that sorta helps too in keeping things more grounded." and it had been one of the reasons she now had a vigilante suit hidden in the house for sorties out with Daredevil. Ugh at all the secret identities.

As Jemma leaves Boxer alone after a time it hops down to amble along legs while they get dinner to the table. Perhaps it thinks it's his royal meal, waiting to be put on the floor. But of course that when it doesn't it lets out a meow of complaint. Hmph. But it has time to wait! Daisy gives it a good ruffle behind the ears. "I *almost* watched a baking show for ideas..." she says with a sigh. "But ..., in the end no time. So youtube it was!" the plates get served, along with the wine and now they are ready to go.

"So we aren't in danger of dark matter explosions in the near future. I am .., glad. Even if the possibility of it maybe existing was terrifying."

She lifts her glass, "I shall call on the first toast then? To the furiae and that their fury remains eternal!" she calls with a grin.

Jane Foster has posed:
"Better than having billboards and million dollar apartments in Greenwich or East Village. Can you imagine? They're ekeing out money wherever they can," Jane says. She pulls off her coat finally, hanging it from the back of the chair unless the design would make the fabric land in a heap at her feet. She breathes in that redolent scent of tomato sauce and noodles, her eyes closing in satisfaction. "I may not be a total snob, but I like places with character, if it at all matters. Hell's Kitchen has plenty of stories and fewer gangs than it used to, which I'll take."

No need to be totally afraid out there, not really. Her smile wavers a bit in memory, giving Daisy that even look. "Besides, I was attacked by thugs just outside Rockefeller Centre. It wasn't like having a huge news presence there made any difference, so I'll consider this place without a jaundiced eye based on the address."

She snickers at the mention of YouTube and gestures to the key lime pie, as if it explains everything. "Trust me, I haven't invented an antimatter oven or engine. You're welcome to enjoy the prospects of the best bakery in Staten Island I could find. Jemma wins for authenticity though, don't deny it. Let's all enjoy a lack of terrible black hole creation. I've truly got my doubts about the designers, but they insist they have something real on their horizon. No amount of university interference has persuaded them otherwise. Enough of their foolishness; I can't control the terrible decisions others make, as much as it leads me to sorrow now and then. My friends here and now matter much more to me, and I'll defend these bonds to the death." And beyond, but the flagon she ought to hoist isn't around. The brunette smiles.

"To the Furiae! Salut!"

Jemma Simmons has posed:
"Oh, I certainly didn't make this." 'This' has to be the sticky toffee pudding as Jemma nods to the dish she brought. "One of the first things I did when I came to New York was research proper British shops and restaurants. In case I ever developed a case of homesickness, which I regret to mention happened about 12 hours after arrival." Jemma shrugs her shoulders, even as that warm smile spreads across her lips. "So, you both get to benefit from my research. As you should."

With that self-same smile, Jemma raises her own glass, with whatever liquid refreshment that happened to make its way into it. "To friends, Furiae or no. And may our fury never need to be tested."