5729/Range Finder

Range Finder
Date of Scene:	26 March 2021
Location:	R and D Labs: Triskelion
Synopsis:	May stops in to see Jemma again, to try to get a better handle on the range of her powers. What she finds, though, is that there's not really much more they can do beyond what they're already doing. Oh. And she learns that Jemma is scary-good at sublimating her own emotions. Like... maybe even better than May, herself. Colour May impressed.
Cast of Characters:	Jemma Simmons, Melinda May

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Jemma Simmons has posed:
It is almost a rarity in recent events to find Jemma Simmons in the midst of her usual element, the Research and Development laboratory. It isn't due to any real issue...and it isn't certainly despite a certain Agent Fitz's insistence that Jemma belongs in the R&D lab. It is simply because Jemma's latest pursuits has led her to play medical doctor more than research scientist...and the Medical Ward is more equipped for that sort of thing than her own personal lab. Not that her lab is ill-equiped. It is just easier to perform medical procedures without a lab partner who may be squeamish around possible dissections near lunch, as Jemma found out early in her career.

However, with the onset of situations demanding more research than medical (and well as more privacy), Jemma has opted for more familiar surroundings. Already, she is at her personal station, with her tablet in hand, performing what seems to be three functions at once. The tablet (rather new looking, from all appearances) sits in the middle, with three different monitors up. One...has detail that look to concern the newly christened Director of SPOT. Another has a file open that appears to be from one Agent Carter. And the other? Research notes for one Melinda May, fresh with new observations from the recent foray with sedatives, HYDRA higher-ups, and a blast from the past with the visit to Peggy's old home. And, while each are being reviewed in time, it appears that, for the moment, Jemma's attention is on May's file. Hypotheses and observation notes litter the electronic landscape...written in Jemma's clean script.

Melinda May has posed:
Finished an unexpected bout on the mats with Daisy, May has showered and changed back into her usual blacks. She finds her way through the hallways of the Triskelion until she eventually makes her way to R&D. She's of a mind, having spoken again with Daisy, that she really needs help to get a handle on this. Even if, really, what help that my be may be mostly a placebo effect.

Whatever the case, however, after the Six Underground mission (and the wallopping concussion that left her before Koga's magic sake took effect), her experiences at the Pacifica complex, and the bombardment of emotions she withstood on Long Island... Yes. She's actively seeking out Jemma's help.

She's somewhat relieved, when she enters the lab, to find it all but empty. And somewhat less than surprised to see just what's on the scientist's many screens. It's research that, even without understanding it, she knows more or less reprsents some of the most pressing personnel (and personal) issues facing them right now.

"Hey," she says by way of greeting as she draws alongside Jemma. She keeps some distance, still. But Jemma's emotions aren't nearly as overwhelming to her as many of her other friends'.

Jemma Simmons has posed:
Dividing one's attention in three doesn't necessarily leave that person observant to outside stimuli. However, when May speaks up? That certainly grabs Jemma's attention. The sudden surprise is palpable. There is even a little yelp of surprise that may induce a little amusement. However, Jemma recovers quickly enough, as the emotional landscape shifts from surprise to a pleasant calm. "Why, hello Agent May!" Yes, Jemma may have reached first name basis with Peggy...but May is always May to her.

The pleasant calm becomes underscored with a smattering of concern. "Is there something I can do for you?" It isn't exactly normal to see anyone other than Fitz and the other R&D agents roaming within the labs, so it seems typical for Jemma to express a little concern.

with a couple taps of the tablet, two of the three monitors go dark. All that is left is May's own file. And an explanation given. "I was just reviewing my notes. Not that it is any of my business, but I believe that there may be some developments. If what I observed at Long Island are any indication." Well...at least Jemma went right to it. She never did waste any time when it comes to those she holds dear.

Melinda May has posed:
May is May to almost everyone. Very few have earned the privilege of her first name. And those that have still tend to call her May. It's just... who she is. She uses Jemma's calm to drain some of the tension she's been carrying away. And, truthfully, she values Jemma's tendency to get right to the heart of the matter. Beating around the bush really isn't May's style.

Thus, she nods, as Jemma makes her observations. "Yeah," she says with a slightly wry pull to her lips. "I think that near-field effect thing you talked about is getting wider." A beat. "A lot wider." Another beat. "Or, maybe just more intense. I'm not sure. But I told you I'd tell you if anything changed. Now just happens to be the first moment I've had to myself to be able to do so." It's one of those grab-five-minutes-between-missions sorts of things that are so typical in her life.

Jemma Simmons has posed:
"I had a feeling it might." Already, that sensation of knowing is present, though it certainly flares with the admission from May. That...and that spike of excitement, despite Jemma's best intentions to suppress that. She was right! "Wider, though, you say. Or more intense. Hmm..." Jemma adopts a far-off stare, sinking into thought and conjecture. Is it one, or the other, or both?

Both is a perfectly viable answer. And, considering even Jemma noticed cues that the normally stalwart Ms. Carter wouldn't drop otherwise, there were some pretty strong emotions for May to pick up on at Long Island.

"Have you noticed what your range might be, once you recognized the change?" Just a research question, to help judge the increasing trends. Jemma doesn't really truly expect an answer. "And...have you detected a return of what you can identify as your own emotional reactions?" That one....Jemma is curious on. If it is possible that the range increased..then it may be possible that the void that once was there is starting to fill once more.

Melinda May has posed:
May gives some thought to the question, her face reflecting Jemma's excitement for just a moment before it fades into something subtly more puzzled. "A few feet," she decides. "On the ship, it was... I'm guessing six or eight feet just based on the size of the room I was in. At Pacifica, maybe a dozen?" Her nose wrinkles faintly. "Last night, I could have sworn I could sense the people in the next apartment over. But... staticky. Like a radio station that wasn't quite tuned in."

As for her own emotions? "I can't entirely tell what's my own emotion and what isn't," she admits. "I *think* there must be something there, because when I'm reacting to others, I can sometimes use what they're projecting on me to echo what I want to feel." A beat. "Or, I guess, what I want to express I feel, even if it's not quite what they're feeling."

She inhales a slow breath. "But when I'm alone... it's quiet again. Just... not quite as quiet as before. It's almost like I can feel echoes of myself."

Jemma Simmons has posed:
Silence follows May's admission. There isn't any scribbling of notes, nor excited hypotheses formulating in the back of Jemma's mind. Instead, it is just a relative calm as Jemma simply listens and considers all angles. "An echo. Like, a memory of yourself? Perhaps a gradual reconnection. " A beat. More thoughts considered, then a continuation. "I am not a psychoanalyst, so I cannot speak directly to what you are experiencing. But, perhaps, the initial lack of emotion was your psyche's way of preparing you for the onslaught of emotions that it knew would come from those around you. And....as you continue to develop, it gradually is allowing your own emotional resonance to emerge, so you can recognize it as truly your own, rather than a byproduct of someone else."

A shrug is given. There is a sense of that Jemma believes what she is saying, but it is apparent that she is really only guessing. There is still a kernel of uncertainty beneath those words. And, Jemma freely admits to it. "Of course, I am not you. And really, this is all terribly unique and never fully explored before. Perhaps, if we found another empath, they might be able to explain what is happening. Unfortunately, you get me, instead." A watery smile, full of apology, flashes across Jemma's face. "I am sorry I am not more help..."

Melinda May has posed:
May gives a mild shrug about the apology. She reaches out to snag a stool and perch on it. "I was married to a psychoanalyst," she says. "I'd sooner talk with you." There's a subtle hint of her old attitude to the words, that dry edge. It's not strong, but it's there.

And, really, she can see the logic in the suggestions Jemma is making with regard to the likely cause of her muted emotions. Her lips purse slightly. "What have other... Inhumans experienced?" she asks. "Do you know? All I remember is Daisy and she struggled for a very long time to learn control." A faint grimace pulls at her lips. "I don't think fancy gloves will help me much."

Jemma Simmons has posed:
A laugh escapes Jemma, clear and bright. "Well, I certainly appreciate that..." It does also bolster Jemma's confidence, the anxiety of not knowing diminishing mostly, but not quite, replaced with a mixture of gratitude and more than a little respect for the senior agent perched upon the stool besides her.

As far as what other Inhumans experienced? Well...Jemma's demeanor deflates momentarily. "To be truthful, the only experience I have had with developing gifts is with Daisy. And it was due in part to being there with her as she learned. Most other Inhumans I know already had a handle on their unique offerings by the time I made their acquaintance." A smile, a real one without apology or concern, is offered to May. "But, you are not alone with this. We have Daisy's experience to fall back on. And...we also have Bobbi, who is struggling to understand her own inherited abilities. It may not be the exact same gift as your own, but the frustration...the search for understanding...that is the same."

Melinda May has posed:
May nods slowly, more a thoughtful dip of her head than an affirmative. "I'm... reluctant to go to Bobbi. Not because I don't think she'd understand, but because I seem to make her naseaous." A beat. "Or, at least, I did in Afterlife." She doesn't miss details often. She knows it seemed to be connected to touch, but she doesn't know if Bobbi now has a range, just like she does. "I don't want to make things worse for her."

Which, of course, suggests there are emotions lurking underneath everything inside Melinda May's brain.

"I spoke with Daisy, earlier today, though. And, she's right. I've had a lot of practice learning to control emotions. I don't suppose this is much different. But..." She gets that wry-mouthed, arched brow look on her face that has often expressed her distaste in the past, "I can't tell you how annoying it is to tell exactly who's got the hots for who in the locker room, even when they're all trying to play it cool. I feel like I'm back in high school." Her tone goes flat. "I hated high school."

Jemma Simmons has posed:
"Oh, I know what Bobbi's dilemma is, at least in regards to you." Of course Jemma would know. There was clues with that other file she had open. "It is not so much nausea. Her particular issue is that she identifies the genetic patterns of a person by touch. And....the more unique the patterns, the more it affects her." A pause....as Jemma just realizes she probably shouldn't have said that.

Hmm...oops.

However, as May describes the pitfalls of actually being an empath, Jemma recoils, her face twisted into an expression of mock horror. "Oh dear! I can only imagine how terrible that is. I mean, the whole knowing who likes who. Not necessarily high school." A pause, then her own admission. "I mean, I was 11 or 12 at the time for high school. I imagine my experience is vastly different from the norm."

Melinda May has posed:
"Just a little," May says dryly. High school was bad enough as a teenager. She has no idea how Jemma could possibly have navigated it as a tween.

But the information about Bobbi catches her attention. "So... you're saying Bobbi's essentially a walking metahuman detector?" Because May's pretty sure Inhumans aren't the only ones with unique DNA patterns out there. There are enough mutants in the world, and they're as varied as it gets. "Damn... That woman has got to stop experimenting on herself."

Jemma Simmons has posed:
An affirmative nod is given for the question, though no other verbal confirmation is given. In truth, Jemma is not sure exactly what Bobbi sees for anything other than Inhuman or human DNA markers. There was a little matter of a medical room being caught in what seems to have been an explosion before Jemma could attempt to divine that. And, really, she shouldn't say anything anyways.

However, May's declaration of the mad scientist tendencies of one Bobbi Morse? That elicits a laugh, almost very nearly a spit take, that catches the doctor unawares. "Oh! I know, right?! I was absolutely livid when she took that concoction of hers without proper testing. I mean, I know she felt it..."

Word trail off as Jemma realizes she is ranting. The tirade is pulled into control, the sudden flare up of righteous indignation compressed and squirreled away until it is no longer felt by either party. "I mean, yes. You are absolutely right." And....that seems to be the last Jemma will dwell on that topic.

The topic of conversation shifts back towards May. "I do assure you, though. You are not alone. We will make this journey of discovery together." And that....ring true to May's senses. Jemma has every intention of doing absolutely everything she can.

Melinda May has posed:
May arches a brow slightly as she feels the purposeful adjustments Jemma makes to her emotions. Adjustments so effective there's hardly a trace of the earlier pique -- unlike Peggy, who remains an open book no matter how tight her British reserve. As someone well-experienced at emotional sublimation and redirection, May has to admit... she's *impressed*. She had always observed Jemma's control, but had often put it down to her control-freak tendencies. (Again, something the senior agent can appreciate for... reasons. Yeah.) But to actually feel the process? Yeah. It's impressive.

She slides off the stool, however, fully aware there's not likely a whole lot more that can be done to help her, here. Besides, she's got to prep for the overnight in Long Island. Given Peggy's emotional state, she's not anticipating a 'fun' night by any stretch. "Thanks, Jemma," she says, giving a hint of a tight smile. A hint of herself. "If anything more changes, I'll let you know. In the meantime..." She gives a mild shrug. She'll muddle through and survive. She always has before. Thus, she gives a casual wave and turns toward the door. "I'm off to Long Island. I'll see you later."