5881/The calm after the storm

The calm after the storm
Date of Scene:	08 April 2021
Location:	Lounge - Playground
Synopsis:	A small celebration now that HYDRA has been removed from SHIELD reveals that Daisy's bowl is the next greatest threat.. if one wants a non-soggy bed.
Cast of Characters:	Bobbi Morse, Peggy Carter, Jemma Simmons, Melinda May, Carol Danvers, Lance Hunter

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Bobbi Morse has posed:
    It's somehow quiet. But finally.. they can celebrate a real victory. It still feels strange to know that Jasper Sitwell was the big HYDRA man hiding in the shadows. For such a short guy that is. Garrett.. well, yeah that makes sense. But Jasper? Bobbi pulls the top off of a beer and flops down on the couches in the common room.

    The Playground has been too much of a hive of activity and it's nice that finally.. things are quiet. It feels like the weight has come off of her shoulders just a little bit. She is relaxing. HYDRA may still be out there, but at least they're not _in here_.

Peggy Carter has posed:
Relaxing? Peggy once knew how to do that. She's learning to again. With her long dead husband back around, the traitorous moles in SHIELD having finally been washed out, and things slowly looking upwards, it felt like she could actually put down the load for a little while now. That alone is paranoia inducing, but she's been working on flushing these people out of SHIELD since weeks after she woke up from cryo. Such a victory deserves a beer.

She's brought a single suitcase of things to the Playground and, shockingly, still had a few things in her old locker. The jacket was moth eaten, but the dress in there managed to survive and her pair of going out heels from 1962 were still in perfect shape! She's been dressing 'modern normal' to go out since they are all wanted, and it feels good to be able to change back into the clothing she loves.

That means she's slid into a cherry red swing dress tonight with a lattice work black collar and sleeves. The red and black T-strap heels from her locker compliment the outfit very nicely and she's even got her hair in it's usual waves, almost long enough to hit her shoulders, finally. "...So, what swill did we hide away in this place? Or do I just need to see if *this* is still good?" And she pulls out a bottle of whiskey from the old office she and Howard shared. "I'm pretty sure Howard forgot it was here."

Jemma Simmons has posed:
Normally, Jemma might have taken refuge in her quarters. After all, after a busy time getting the labs set up just the way she wants (and wondering how she became the den mother of the lab techs), it would be only right and proper to take a respite in one's own quarters....

...If they weren't already a soaked mess, due to Jemma's roommate supposedly communing with a bowl? In any case, Daisy managed to set the fire alarms off in their communal quarters and now everything within needed replacing. Usually, it takes more than a day before Fitz or Simmons sets off the fire alarms...and usually only in the labs.

Needless to say, Jemma has to commend Daisy's work ethic.

But, it does leave Jemma temporarily homeless. And so that relaxation leads her to the lounge. She is still in her labcoat and her usual ensemble....the only one that has escaped being washed against its will. She wanders in right after Peggy, missing the offering to test the bottle of whisky for consumption. "I certainly hope there is something here. Hell, I will take a dry chair and a bottle of water at this point. Preferably with the water inside the bottle."

Melinda May has posed:
May has been at the Playground long enough to stake out a set of personal quarters. Her choice of clothing hasn't much changed. Jeans, a plain t-shirt, and a jacket. Since they moved into the Playground after they cleared out the moles, she is actually quite willing to relax here. Hell, the only other time *she* was in this base was when she came to retrieve the rage staff to go after her doppleganger with. The staff is now safely re-ensconced in it's original hidey hole here on base. And she's the only known person in the agency who can weild it without losing control.

Of course, that was before her date with a Terragen crystal. So, who knows, now...?

Regardless, she pokes her head into the fridge, seeking out what might be stashed there. "Oh, look," she says to Peggy. "Someone knew you were coming." She pulls out a six-pack of Smithwick as evidence, though she doesn't open it. *She* will not be drinking that crap.

Instead, she grabs a microbrew and brings it over to a couch, where she proceeds to flop entirely unceremoniously.

Carol Danvers has posed:
Carol has been pretty absent the last stretch. Things in her flavor of SHIELD have been extra busy.

I mean not that things are ever boring for Carol between on planet and off planet issues.

Right now though SWORD has been operating as cover and in public as one of the groups not being SHIELD publicly. At least as 'public' as SWORD can even be considered, not like it is ARMOR.

Still she finally makes her way to the Playground to try to get a bit of a downlow and see how people are holding up. Not the AARs but actually get a vibe check on the crew there.

No room claimed though, she has been crashing at the Mansion and putting up with an extra dose of Stark instead of taking up limited space in any of the new dispersed bases.

She comes into the lounge though whistling to herself, dressed in civvies of jeans, t-shirt, and flight jacket. Pure incognito mode, aka you know baseball cap. She does have a couple of boxes with her though "What year is that from Peggy?" that find has her attention.

Bobbi Morse has posed:
    People are filing in. Alcohol has been found. Bobbi is still wearing her SHIELD jumpsuit but also has her glasses on. It's a weird combination. "I think we can thank Lance for our selection of beers," she adds and smiles to her friends and colleagues. She lifts her beer up in to the air, "Cheers. To us not being sabotaged at every turn."

    The exhaustion on Bobbi's face is evident but so is the relief she's feeling right now. "What was with the fire alarm in your room Jemma? science experiment gone wrong?," she queries and then smiles as Carol wanders in, "Danvers. It's been a while. Welcome to the new digs. You missed Fury he was here yesterday."

Peggy Carter has posed:
The flash of the Smithwicks from May makes Peggy smile a bit more. "Now you really are going to get me soused. I suppose we've earned it. Trade you for Howard's scotch." She plops the big bottle of *very* expensive scotch (at least, expensive from 1960s standards) down on the table and happily accepts the six pack of her low grade British beer she loves so much. She pops one open smoothly and knocks back a deep, long gulp. No moderation tonight. She's earned it.

A concerned look flickers across Jemma, "Dry...chair? Did one of the ceilings cave in again? I thought we had everything reinforced." Which says something about what this place has been through over the years. Peggy doesn't look particularly worried, more so just concerned for Jemma, but then she nudges that whiskey in the woman's direction. Carol's question about it gets a good smile flashed from Peggy and she turns the label towards her. "Highland Park, 1960...17 year. So, surprising no one, this was probably bought, then forgotten, right about when Tony was on the way. Or being born. No better time but to break into it now."

Peggy smiles a bit wider as Bobbi starts a round of toasts. She raises her own beer in turn, "Cheers indeed. And Lance has good taste in *some* things... beers, women, and footie topping the somewhat short list."

Jemma Simmons has posed:
"Oh, I didn't do anything. Daisy said it happened when she was talking to her bowl. As if that makes any sense." There is an amused air to Jemma's words. Amused, but also tired. She really has no idea what Daisy did. "All I know is that once I returned from setting up the laboratory, everything in the room that we share was damp."

A laugh escapes from Jemma as she flashes a smile towards Peggy. "Oh, don't worry. It isn't like I am not used to fire alarms going off. I am just usually the one setting them off. Quite by accident, I assure you." Ah...there is a dry chair! Wonderful. The scientist unceremoniously flops into the chair, sighing happily as she does so.

Melinda May has posed:
"I'll drink to that," May says to Bobbi, lifting her microbrew. She passes the Smithwicks to Peggy and takes the whiskey in exchange, setting it on the table in the middle. "Someone grab some glasses," she instructs. "We'll see how well it aged."

When glasses a provided, she'll pour. But really? She's planted on her end of the couch and she intends to stay there. Unless they all get riled up enough to make her little dagger have to work overtime. Then, she might duck out. But for now? Fixture. Right here.

Carol Danvers has posed:
There is a low whistle from Carol as Peggy rattles off the brand and year of that Scotch. "That... is an expensive bottle of scotch at this point. As big as a pain in the ass that Stark can be sometimes I bet it would floor him if that was given to him.... though if you are a scotch fan it would be an amazing bottle to celebrate with."

She turns to rummage in one of the boxes she brought in. "Morse... is missed the right word?" yeah she is being full of a bit of sass about the Director.

She pulls out several bottles of hard alchohol. Good stuff. Just not as good as the Scotch. "So I stopped by a liquor store.. was worried this place would be without. Hopefully no one minds?" stack stack on the counter. Carol either has skewed priorities or really good ones honestly.

Done she turns, a handful of actual whiskey glasses in her hands at this poin. Moving to carry them over to May. "So how is everyone doing?" vibe check.

Bobbi Morse has posed:
    There's a smirk from Bobbi at the description of Lance's tastes. Bobbi can't help but grin at Carol's sass. She takes a long sip of one of the beers that Lance brought with him. It's an important stock and she'll have to make sure they get more of it. So long as no one becomes alcohol dependent - otherwise HR will be all over her.

    "No one could possibly mind Danvers," she replies and then looks back to Jemma with a small smirk, "You can sleep in my room tonight if you'd like. I plan on heading back out to reinforce my civilian identity a bit more... but later. First drinks," she says and then adds, "Just don't rearrange things please. There's a method to the chaos and I'm working through it in my own time. It's a zen thing."

    She looks over to May, "What did Fury want?" It might be classified though, in which case she'll have to wait to see if it is discussed in the upcoming first ever commanders meeting post SecDef.

Peggy Carter has posed:
A furrow of Peggy's brow comes towards Daisy as she hears the report about the extinguishers, "Well, I am... glad to hear that the fire suppression system is still working as planned. Along with expensive scotch, I am not surprised if Howard left a few other... Surprises around this place." Peggy looks around behind her, at the old brick work and glass on the walls. For a moment, her eyes are utterly somewhere else, but the smile is true. It feels good to be back here.

She's got her beer in her right hand, so she reaches her left hand forward to get one of those little glasses of scotch that May is pouring, "Then we're celebrating with this bottle." She grins to Carol, "Howard left it for a reason, right? And it's damn good to see you. Celebrate with us." Peggy raises the glass in a quiet toast to them again and takes a small sip. They might notice that she's gone back to wearing her wedding ring. Something she's not worn in decades, but now the antique piece glitters on her left ring finger again.

The comment about May and Fury gets a very interested look and a slight tilt of her head. She watches Bobbi over her glass then looks straight to May, clearly interested in an answer herself.

Jemma Simmons has posed:
Another laugh escapes from Jemma. "You think I sleep. How precious." She sits up in her chair, currently without a drink, though that will probably change in the very near future. "To hear the rumours from the lab technicians, Fitz and I are constructs. Sleeping is beyond us. Well, at least from their perspective. Which, honestly, I can see. We are...or rather were...in the lab quite a lot." Recent activity has gotten both of them out and about more, certainly. "Though, honestly, we should have dry furnishings before too long. But thank you, all the same."

Melinda May has posed:
May splashes a couple of fingers worth of well-aged alcohol into the glasses Carol provides. She listens to the chatter among the others, feels the more settled emotions coming from them -- particularly from Peggy (thank god!) -- and a rare smile touches her lips. "To us," she says lifting her glass. "Who's like us? Damned few." And they're all dead.

She throws back a good portion of her glass and savours the burn. Then, she glances to Bobbi. "I've been asked to step into Garrett's position," she says. "Head up the STRIKE teams." She hasn't given a formal answer, yet, but it's fairly certain that when she does it will be in the affirmative. "There's more than a little house cleaning to be done." Which she's happy to do. She was never fond of Garrett to begin with. And she can think of a couple of L6's that would make excellent L7's and field leaders.

Lance Hunter has posed:
"Good to see the party got started without me," Lance grins from the doorway before stepping inside. The brit is dressed in his usual jeans, t-shirt and leather jacket ensemble, complete with the orange and grey lanyard hanging around his neck.

He helps himself to some scotch in time for the toast, "To us," he says lifting his glass and taking a healthy swallow. "Good stuff this," he remarks before moving next to Bobbi. "Miss anything fun?" he asks her. Clearly whatever conflict had been going on there had come to conclusion or at least a ceasefire.

Carol Danvers has posed:
Carol fishes the scotch glass back from May once hers is filled and she wanders back over to lean against the counter by her bottle collection. She is absolutely watching May and the toast that she serves up there.

Her glass is raised to it though. "Damned few." which well she has a bit of a smirk there. Cause damned if that isn't true.

The answer about what Fury wanted though, well that has her tilting her head studying May. Doesn't really surprise her. There are vancancies and still a lot of work to be done. The work. Well it isn't finished around here unless you are dead it seems. Even then for some folk. "Congrats?" she asks, making sure the fact it is a question is definitely felt there. Then she sips her scotch.

Bobbi Morse has posed:
    Bobbi lifts up her beer, "To us." Another good cheers. She drinks and manages to finish it before May says Fury asked her to be in charge of STRIKE. She covers her mouth as she coughs a little bit. "So.. he's claimed his next victim then?," she asks since the tone she's using suggests she's already putting thought in to it.

    "What's next. Daisy as Director of SHIELD?," she says with a wry little smile and then lifts her beer again, "If you're saying yes, or no.. congratulations May." It does make a lot of sense and she can see May doing the job really well. The two Level 7s who swore they would never go to Level 8.. and yet here they are.

    "Lance apol-" she starts to say then stops as Lance makes his way in. She smiles and offers her hand to him when he joins her. "Jemma's room got soaked because Daisy was playing with her magic bowl from the Nepalese hidden temple and Fury asked May to lead STRIKE."

Peggy Carter has posed:
Peggy is content to sit back and listen for the moment. She's downed the rest of her Smithwicks with a few gulps, since it often does drink like water, and is now just nursing the quite good scotch which deserves to be nursed. She raises her glass in quiet greeting to Lance, curious eyes flickering between him and Bobbi, but the slightly cut off comment from the woman seems to be explanation enough. Peggy just smiles in a bit more contentment that the ice front isn't up between them again.

She lets herself sink back a bit deeper in the chair, eyes trailing over to Jemma with just a touch of concern as the woman mentions not getting out too much, "You need to come back to the house more. Daniel's been cooking... it's not just take out now. I promise. Portuguese food like you've never tasted..." Maybe she can tempt the woman into having a life that way. Who can resist food?

Then it's back to May, "You should make the decision that feels right for you but... I know I'd feel a hell of a lot better having you in that position. And it'd just be the last bit of salt to rub in their wounds."

Jemma Simmons has posed:
Food. Has Daisy been teaching Peggy her tricks? Jemma offers a genuine smile towards her fellow Brit. "Oh, I am sure I will be over to the house more. Daisy does have this inexplicable need to get me out of the laboratory more and more. I did agree to go out with her whenever. It is rather convenient, considering she does the driving."

Then...that concern. Jemma knows that look...she has used it many times herself. The smile softens. "I promise, I will get out more. If only to put your mind at ease." And, if Jemma is promising, then it is as good as gold.

Daisy as Director of SHIELD? "If you do get Daisy to do that, just make sure she doesn't commune with her mystical dinnerware. Otherwise she might flood the offices or set fire to the athletic center. Who knows?" Oh...that is definitely a tease on Jemma's part. Even if it was spoken in that maddingly dry British sense of humour she has.

Melinda May has posed:
The commute between the Playground, outside Starling City in Delaware, to the Carter-Sousa House in Long Island, May has learned, is about three and a half to four hours... give or take. Without a Quinjet, anyway. She can make it in just under three in a pinch, when she's really flooring it and risking every speedtrap along the way. Still, it's worth the drive.

She nods to the congratulations and compliments given. "Thanks," she says, taking a sip of that scotch, her microbrew still unopenned. She doesn't bother to give them her decision. It hardly matters, at this point. And it's a night for relaxing, not contemplating the work ahead of her. Certainly, Fury made it plain which answer he expects, even if he did technically say she could have a day or two to contemplate it. But Peggy's endorsement means more, really.

She pushes those thoughts away and gives a cant of her head. "Okay... so what the hell is Daisy's bowl? And how the hell did it soak your quarters?"

Carol Danvers has posed:
"Thank god someone asked... that has been killing me." she grins and sips the scotch, downing the rest of it. She rinses the glass, towels it, then pours a much more full glass of expensive bourbon she brought.

"Also Daisy as Director SHIELD... ... mind boggling concept. Never fear though. Pretty sure Fury will never stop being Director... one way or another at least."

"The man cheats."

Not news to anyone.

Lance Hunter has posed:
"I think it's a testament to how weird things have gotten that none of that sounded strange to me," Lance remarks taking Bobbi's hand and squeezing it for a moment before he raises his glass to May adding one more congratulations to the pile. If she takes the job that is, "Well, if you say yes, all I ask is I get to be there when someone tells Garret about it," he says with a smirk. He and STRIKE had history, old version, new version, he wasn't a fan of either.

"Daisy as director? She'd just write a script to sign all her paperwork and then run off to do what she always does," he remarks. "And yeah, what's with this bowl?"

Bobbi Morse has posed:
    She shakes her head, "Not a clue about this bowl. Alls I know is she requested a quinjet and time to go back to Nepal with Lara because she felt something up in the mountains. She got back and had a bowl and a cube and hasn't really explained either to me." Another long sip of the beer and lulls her head back to stare up at the ceiling.

Peggy Carter has posed:
Still mostly quiet, Peggy smiles a bit more to Jemma at the thought she'll be dragged back to the house, but also hasn't a clue about the bowl. Bobbi's explanation gts a worried glance and a quiet, "Sounds like we should be asking her a FEW more questions, but... Maybe not tonight." Peggy shakes her glass of scotch a bit in indication that she doesn't plan to do any work tonight, and then knocks the rest of it back before leaning over to pour more. Chances are, she's going to crash here this evening.

Once she's got more drink, she curls her legs up onto the chair beneath her, letting her red dress drape down and just the peep toes of her high heels sticking out. She nurses at her scotch, watching the room with a distant, quiet smile, something thoughtful and heavy behind her eyes. But then that's often, these days.

Jemma Simmons has posed:
"Oh, I have absolutely no idea." The truth of the statement from Jemma rings out. She really does not know. "I have seen this bowl, but only briefly, and only when she attempted to explain. It is all very mystical and certainly more in line for our resident wizards. Despite our many similarities, I am no Hermione Granger." Establishing firmly that Jemma has not the slightest inclination of magical artifacts or mage-like tendencies. "All I could piece together is that somehow a person in an in-between place was mentoring our Daisy in the use of her abilities...and somehow set the very air on fire. Which somehow set off the fire alarm." An eye-roll betrays what Jemma thinks of that. "Now I understand how other people feel when I prattle on about genome sequencing and techno-organic chain polymers."

Still...this isn't the time to worry about such things. Now is the time to relax. And Jemma actually gets up from her seat to wander over to procure herself a drink. And certainly not water in a bottle, either.

Melinda May has posed:
May actually frowns at Jemma's explanation. Having spent so much time with Abcde "Hermione" Prescelta, lately, she finds the concept of a 'person in an in-between place' setting the air on fire not only possible, but more dangerous than Jemma's remarkably laissez-faire recounting would have it be. Her cup gets sat down, half a finger of alcohol in it, still. Yeah, she agrees with Peggy. "Mm. I think a few more questions are definitely in order," she decides, the concern clear on her features.

Yeah, call her paranoid. But just because they've flushed HYDRA (mostly) out of their ranks doesn't mean there aren't still dangers out there -- HYDRA included, but more besides.

Hell, May, herself, made a deal of sorts with the Goddess of Witchcraft for the dagger in her boot. She's still expecting that bill to come due. Somehow. Sometime.

Carol Danvers has posed:
There is a distinct. "UGN" from Carol.

She takes a stiff slug from her bourbon.

"Magic... god I dislike magic. Best left to WAND to muddle through. I mean yes.. you can completely punch a demon in the face or throw him into the sun...." she sounds like she isn't speaking hypotheticals.

"But ugn... I dislike magic." slow shake of her head. "Leave it to Strange or Zatanna or someone.. or like.. WAND." pause "Wait is Daisy being transfered to WAND.. did the sorting hat pick her and put her in a house then with skills and everything?"

Lance Hunter has posed:
Listening about the bowl Hunter savours his drink, most of this magic stuff flew right over his head, but he does remark, "Nah, really more of a Ravenclaw than a Gryffindor, Jemma," What? He reads!

"And yeah, probably best if we're not bringing magic junk into where we sleep at night. I know this place was built before SHIELD had a Weird Ass Nerd Division, but there's got to be a vault around her somewhere for this sort of thing."

Bobbi Morse has posed:
    Bobbi taps her beer bottle to Lance's tumbler and smirks, "Well either way we can't have bowls starting fires in the sleeping quarters. Someone will have to talk to her.. presumably her commander. You know, Phil." She raises an eyebrow coyly casually avoiding responsibility for whatever the heck Daisy has brought back from Nepal with her.

    "And no, she's not transferring to WAND. Gosh. No she's up to something for Fury though. Not sure what it is. She was being all mysterious about it so I reminded her the magic words are 'It's classified'. I think it's the first time she's ever said them though."

Peggy Carter has posed:
Peg is now just a quiet fixture of the room, like she always belonged here and was a part of it's walls. But then, she did spend an inciredibly long amount of her career in this base. It was by luck alone she wasn't frozen here instead of the Triskelion, so it seems natural that the woman would blend in as well as the old desks and wall markings on the brick.

Lance's name for Wand gets a choked out laugh, nearly coughing on her scotch. She takes another deep sip, emptying that glass as well before putting it down. "I... am never going to think of it as meaning anything else now, Hunter. You've ruined me." She deadpans to the man, but then goes back to her mostly silence.

Without a drink to busy her hands, her red-nailed fingertips go to idly turning that wedding ring on her finger. She's still getting used to having the fidget back but, as it's there, she certainly uses it.

Carol Danvers has posed:
"Definitely the new Acronym... someone should log into the main file system and update it and then propogate it for them. Send it with a memo explaining it is the new designation."

She grins. "Cause honestly I am having trouble for the life of me remembering what WAND actually stands for..." another sip of Bourbon.

Her wrist computer bleeps at her. Causing CArol to frown, and glance down at her wrist. She taps what looks like the sleeve of a normal leather jacket with the hand holding her glass of booze. Reading something on the holodisplay that pops up.

Frown.

"Oh for fucks sake." and well Steve isn't here to correct her. "Going to go see why an unidentified probe has entered our Solar System trying to be stealthy like despite the clear keep the hell out signs..." the empty glass is rinsed quick and then left on the towel from earlier to dry by the sink. "Drink all the drinks and relax, everyone has earned it." as she stalks out now muttering about shoving a probe in some aliens ass and seeing how they like it.

Jemma Simmons has posed:
"Well, whenever she gets approached by someone for it....just remember that this conversation never happened. I adore Daisy too much to ever get her intentionally into trouble." How very like Simmons. Though, the new acronym meaning earns Lance an glance. "You do realize that particular moniker fits me as well. At least, if you believe the lab technicians. Does that mean I will need to transfer to WAND as well?"

The question is only in jest, as Jemma procures her own drink, then returns to her seat, settling comfortably into its welcoming embrace. "But yes....you are right. I am most certainly a Ravenclaw, though, if we are being completely honest, Ms. Granger was the most Ravenclaw-esque Gryffindor in the entire series. So, it still fits." No surprise that Jemma has read Harry Potter, too.

Jemma's voice trails off as Carol's alert sounds off. There is interest there, certainly. After all, patrolling space? Dreadfully exciting! At least Jemma doesn't interrupt, but there is interest there. Most certainly.

Melinda May has posed:
May snickers at Lance's name for WAND. No argument from her, there. She picks up her scotch and downs the rest of it as Carol's alarm goes off. "Good luck, Danvers," she says as the Avenger retreats.

Then, however, she pulls herself to her feet and takes the glass to the sink to rinse and place in the drying rack. Picking up her microbrew, she gives a faint smile to the others in the room. "I don't have an emergency," she admits, "but I feel like I've been running a marathon for weeks, now. I'm going to call it a night." A glance to Morse. "I'll catch up with you later." Then to Peggy, "Don't sneak out before we chat."

With that, beer in hand, she retreats back toward her quarters.

Bobbi Morse has posed:
    "As amusing as that would be, I don't think insulting our best chance at fighting weird magical stuff is the _best_ course of action. Wizardry Alchemy Necromancy Department. It's a very concerning acronym when you think about it. Especially the necromancy bit."

    Bobbi gets up and gets another beer from the fridge and then lifts it in a salute to Carol, "Enjoy probing the probe." She grins a touch and then says, "I'd like to go to The Peak some time. SWORD's space station. It sounds cool." She furrows her brow a little and asks, "What'd WAND think of your house guest," she asks looking to Peggy and May.

    "It's not ever day I learn that my friends have been hanging out with a witch." She lifts a finger, "Unless you count the Scarlet Witch but that's different. She's an Avenger." She rolls her shoulders and neck a touch now that she's standing up. A quick glance to her heart rate monitor tells her everything is fine. She nods to May and says, "Later. Possibly in a staff meeting."

Peggy Carter has posed:
"SHIELD's never been good with names. Acronyms, sure... but actual names? SHIELD isn't that sleek either. Now, the SSR..." She murmurs, staring over at the old bird on the brick wall across the room. It makes her smile to see it, "THat was a good name. Strategic Scientifc Reserve. You knew exactly what we did or, more so, you didn't, because it was no one's god damned business and we did it sleek and quiet. Until they put Steve on a million war bond posters, but... That's another story."

She gives May a little wave goodbye, echoing a promise to check in on her friend before too long. Then she's leaning forward to pour herself another two fingers of scotch. She's definitely starting to feel it, some rose coming to her cheeks that wasn't there before. But then, she might have actually been a bit pale before. Mostly hidden by make up, but not her exact normal color. Must be exhaustion. But the booze seems to be helping.

Jemma Simmons has posed:
Oh....a witch. Wow. The realization that there was more magic funny business about actually causes Jemma to retract to her own thoughts for the moment. To her, magic is just something that hasn't been properly explained yet...and so now Jemma's mind is racing. If she can figure out how Daisy's bowl communion works, then maybe she can figure out how other unexplainable acts work...and provide a proper explanation.

Because there isn't any proof that witches exist, right? At least, no real concrete evidence, surely. The thousand yard stare is adopted as Jemma stares off into space, attempting to process...

Lance Hunter has posed:
Lance raises his drink as May and Carol slip off. "I dunno though, the name fits," he says before shuddering a little at necromancy. "I suppose it's not all so bad if they can actually bring people back to life without a sudden and overwhelming taste for brains," he says.

"Is that what SSR stands for?" he asks. Yep, definitely slept through the SHIELD history stuff. "An' fair enough, I suppose having your number one asset dressed like the American flag draws its bit of attention. Good bloke though," he says of Steve. "Went on an op with him once, me and the STRIKE boys, pretty much ate popcorn while he punched out a sub full of arms smugglers. Then I gave him relationship advice, good day."

"And fair enough, Jemms," he says. "Really think the Sorting Hat was making it up as it was going along," he says.

As Bobs gets up for a beer, he finishes his scotch and says, "Grab me one, Bobs?"

Bobbi Morse has posed:
    Bobbi pauses a moment and lifts her beer pointedly toward Peggy, "....I thought you came up with the name SHIELD?" She taps the top of the beer against her lips and then takes a long sip. Bobbi peers at Jemma, "Earth to Jemma. Thinking about Space and SWORD? SHIELD not exciting enough?" She is teasing of course and gets a beer for Lance, then rejoins him on the couch.

    She pats his thigh and says softly to him, "We have ..catching up to do. Why don't you come see what a commanders quarters looks like tonight?" Spoiler: they look the same as everyone else's.

Peggy Carter has posed:
"Oh, Howard and I did. Who takes credit or blame for it depends on the day and the scotch we were drinking." Peggy admits with a casual, flushed smile, the absolute truth of the matter, it seems. Probably the idea came through a whole bunch of drinking anyway and either of them really knows who came up with the final name. She takes another sip from her glass then looks over to Jemma.

"I don't know what that look on your face is but... if it's about witches or wand, we genuinely have one living in the house right now. She's even got a... eh... I *guess* Mittens is a familiar? Little black cat. Either way. And when we were going to move her into another safe house, she mentioned having to carry a cauldron up several flights of stairs. So... Bonafide witch. I'll introduce you some day." Peggy offers with that same, this is all totally normal here smile!

Then she's looking back to Bobbi and Lance, giving a little groan, "I am glad you have made up, but it's like your best friends kissing in front of you. What agents do behind closed doors should stay there!" Says the woman who hid her marriage from most of SHIELD for decades.

Lance Hunter has posed:
Hunter grins as Bobbi's words, and then chuckles at Peggy's. "We're very public people," he lies to Peggy. They're spies that is definitely bullshit. "But we'll try to keep our hormones to a dull roar," he says though that probably doesn't help May any being privy to what's going through their emotions.

He does lean in close to Bobs though, saying "That's a yes by the way."