7106/Welcome to the Playground, Try Not to Panic

Welcome to the Playground, Try Not to Panic
Date of Scene:	27 July 2021
Location:	Vault C - Playground
Synopsis:	Catching up means catching a few answers that no one is prepared for.
Cast of Characters:	Jane Foster, Daisy Johnson, Jemma Simmons

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Jane Foster has posed:
Quinjets commandeered by the remnants of SHIELD, at least those shielded from HYDRA, do away with the whole mischievous business of going through Heathrow, getting flight clearance or passenger lists. Or quite frankly a very irked British customs agent wondering why Jane Foster is leaving well after her visa expiration date, since no one stamped her passport to approve a lengthy stay. What visa, ma'am? Americans, pish-posh.

Or the fact she doesn't have a passport, in fact has minimal identification whatsoever. A driver's license, a bank card, and something that guarantees cheaper prices at a New York-area supermarket chain do not really serve to cross transatlantic distances, but that's the superspy life, right?

Friends there to pick you up, friends there to drop you off. "Just how many quinjets do we have, anyway?" is a question for when they are in the air. After looking patently a bit queasy once they zip away from the ground, anyway, and settling in past the vibrations of the hull or murmurations of being midair. It's a long enough flight by conventional means that a nap is in question, and Jane... well, she doesn't really doze or sleep, but something lulling in the silence is helpful, right? Besides, they're going to Delaware. No point in sleeping. Delaware *is* a snooze.

Daisy Johnson has posed:
What's there to see in Delaware indeed? Maybe a cow..., a little tumbleweed. Great for a twelve o' clock pistol duel! Of course it's also the new home for SHIELD. At least until the Triskelion is under 'siege' by the government. Something that hopefully would get rectified soon! Daisy is flying the machine, cloak technology engaged so they aren't noticed while on the way.

"I asked AC once..." She murmurs, "The answer? ..." a brief pause for dramatic effect, "It's classified.." she lifts her hands from the quinjet's commands and shakes her head. Daisy doesn't like secrets!

Yet does one expect to spend a nice, quiet trip to base while Daisy is around? Perhaps only those that don't know her! Because soon enough she is getting into gossip town.

"Sooooo, about Blackagar.." a glance over her shoulder. "Has he told you about being an Inhuman?" she asks, "About being their leader, too?" then another pause and she looks at Jemma in a mischievous manner before looking back at Jane. "Also ..., what were those looks between the two of you, mmm? You noticed it too, Jemms, didn't you?"

Gossip Girl Daisy.

Jemma Simmons has posed:
"Truth be told? I haven't the foggiest. I just managed to get this one because I said I needed it." Jemma is much too honest for her own good, at least when it is dealing with her friends. Of course, she did leave out some key details. Like, namely, her newly acquired promotion to Senior Agent afforded her certain privileges that she might not have been privy to in the past. And...Jemma has learned the key rule of 'beg for forgiveness rather than ask for permission.' It seems that her time spent when Jane was exploring death realms was time well spent.

Also doesn't hurt when Daisy is there as a corrupting, err, good influence.

And...as per on cue, Daisy starts the rumour mill going. "Well, there was a sort of mutual respect between the two of them, certainly." The tone is rather matter of fact, but the expression...well...there is a slight smirk there, if anyone is watching. "But, honestly, that could just be British hospitality. Or...just Jane. She does tend to provoke a response from the male persuasion." Just look at how protective Thor was (is?) of her! "But yes. Apparently, the Inhumans have a monarchy. Rather novel, don't you think?"

Jane Foster has posed:
Crabs. Supposedly Delaware has crabs. It has a lot of lowslung dodgy office parks that host international corporations by the bucketload due to some very questionable laws, and an Amtrak station beloved by a certain lawmaker. Not much else. Basically it's a punishment intended for Virginia and a reminder of Jersey for what could become of Jersey for getting too uppity. The Delmarva Peninsula is where hope goes to die.

"Everything is classified these days," Jane murmurs to Daisy, since someone has to be flying the contraption with clearance enough to know important matters. Where they go, what flight channels are restricted, whether they are pretending to be a 747 bound from Mumbai. Issues for flying are unfamiliar to the astrophysicist, but she knows enough to get herself in trouble with the questions. So, thus, barring any midair collisions or sudden mass human casualties -- or Atlantean, it really doesn't matter -- she has a smooth sailing. Mostly smooth sailing straight to the pirate port of Port Quakeall, and those dark eyes reopen for a moment. "Hmm?"

A glimmer lingers there. "He did, actually. He had very nice things to say about you." Sign, but no one actually needs to confirm that bit. "A significant interest in what seems to be going on about the Inhumans, though I'm still out of the loop." For the obvious reasons. Being dead will do that. Is and was as the protectiveness is, she doesn't address it considerably. "Thank you, Jemma. This was more than I expected to come home At this rate, a freighter ride seemed about appropriate."

Daisy Johnson has posed:
"Giving them all the hots for her. That's Jane.." Daisy clearly not as subtle as Jemma and her 'male persuasion' comment. She is grinning though, happy to finally have the gang back together even if there were still many questions left unanswered. Like the one Jane just activated evasive maneuvers to! Oh, but Daisy noticed, and shall remember in the future! But for now ..., no need to press the issue.

It's Jane's 'back-to-life' out of jail free card.

"I was .., somewhat surprised to learn about that." Inhuman nobility. "But then again, it seems there's a connection between us, Inhumans, and the Kree." her expression turning a bit more serious. "But I will need to talk with Blackagar about *that*, and figure out exactly. Mother might know too."

"Soooo ..., you didn't know we changed bases yet, did you? Long story short, we were disavowed by the government due to Hydra interference and have been laying low on an old base called the Playground. We are almost there now."

And indeed as if on cue a light chimes on the monitor. She taps on it. "Quinjet #21, we are approaching to land.." a few moments later confirmation comes.

Jemma Simmons has posed:
"Oh....quite a lot happened between that female Asgardian's gifting of your prone form ever so graciously upon my lap and now, Jane, dear." Jemma swivels to face Jane fully. "As Daisy said, there is the whole disavowing situation, the move to the Playground, my abduction by an interdimensional version of myself in which she basically made me a wanted criminal in Sweden or Denmark, I can't remember which. Oh, and the whole being shot, jumping into a virtual reality construct, and pretending that we are Neo and Trinity in the Matrix. Oh...and the TARDIS! Bless Mark's heart! If I wasn't worried about possibly dying in a video game, I would have insisted on a complete exploration of that." Yes...it seems that Jemma had quite a bit going on.

"But, really, I kept looking for you. It was only by the grace of the tracker app we developed that we managed to find you in London." A casual glance down to that golden bauble upon Jane's wrist. "Global positioning satellites interfaced with the energy tracker application developed for rare energy signatures. Then, Daisy's expertise in hacking the traffic cameras." A pause. "So, yes, we stalked you. But only in a good way!"

Jane Foster has posed:
A lady never tells about her penchant for people! It would be rude, or she has some grasp of behaviours that coincide with responsibility of an entire realm, its people, or awesome travel passes. You get backstage spy passes when you present a friendly smile and have a reputation for discretion! They're all spies, especially Senior Agent Simmons there.

"I still can't believe you let them use that tube as a seesaw," protests Jane in good humour. The Quinjet hums and any velocity used to slide through the atmosphere surely comes with a little turbulence. Enough that internal muscles should absolutely be compensating for those small incremental changes to keep her quite stable. Nothing else seems to be. "I see, you... entered a virtual reality construct and encountered a blue box that travelled through time and space? Who is Mark?" No, she hasn't been introduced. "Other than one of Iron Man's suits. Is there perhaps something that needs a rundown on that front?"

Her golden bauble in question is inert on her wrist under a light t-shirt, the kind of sweat-wicking, UPF 80 sort loved by hikers and the sort. As fair as she is, she'd burn after two seconds exposed to the sun. Jemma surely knows this, as does Daisy. "You stalked me in a good way." Agreement, there. "I don't begrudge you that. You had every reason to give me a funeral, and you didn't. So thank you, though thank you /really/ doesn't catch up enough on what I owe you."

Her gaze flickers up to Daisy and she says, "Is Peggy still dying? Or have they acquired the copy of her blood yet?"

Really.

Daisy Johnson has posed:
"Mark as in Mark McClaren. He's an agent, a nerd and good guy." Daisy explains over to Jane, "I think Jemms aaaallllmost fell in love but ..., we all know who she likes." Yes, everyone does. Just not Jemma! Figures.

They go around the side of a cliff and a small entrance opens up, revealing an hangar where more quinjets are in. She pilots it inside and brings it to a stop, killing the engines.

"Peggy's safe now." She confirms, a glance to Jemma, "But Jemma would know better." then a pause. Another look to Jane.

"Wait.., you were still in coma when ..." then she realizes it. "You were there in spirit?" she asks. "Like you were when Jemma was shot?" that makes her expression turn grim. She remembered it, the affliction of feeling she might had been too late. It wasn't something she wanted to feel again.

"Up we go. Time to show you the base, and your .., other self."

Jemma Simmons has posed:
Simmons blinks in mild confusion. "What do you mean, you all know? Who do I like?" Oblivious as always. Don't ever change, Jemma.

As for Mark, well, Jemma does allow herself a small smile. "It is somewhat cute, in a odd sort of way. I believe it was bonding over nerd culture and one-too-many energy drinks in the Sphere that might have did it." At least Jemma is aware of the crush from McLaren! She isn't completely naïve. There is hope for her yet!

The conversation shifts to Peggy's recovery...and Jemma is right there to provide the facts. "Apparently, they were able to obtain a sample of Peggy's blood, pre-genetic tampering. With that and the genetic splicing technology we developed the first time we brought Peggy back, we were able to use the same sort of genetic sequence manipulation and restore Peggy to that pre-tampering event. I daresay it caused her to turn back the clock, so to speak. But, any benefits that she might have had artificially provided to her has been wiped away."

The doctor talks as if someone else did the procedure. When, of course, the two friend there would know to read between the lines and translate that, while it was a team effort to perform the procedure, there were really only two people who truly knew how the procedure went the first time that were around (Jane is excluded) that could have redid it.

And one of them is Jemma Simmons.

Still, with the Quinjet landed, Jemma shifts the topic, away from Peggy and her recovery. "Oh, yes. We need to go to Vault C. It is about time to check on your physical form, err, well...the shell, I suppose we can say? Yes, it is time to check on it to see how the cytogenetic process is holding up."

Jane Foster has posed:
Mark McClaren, man about to have a survey of his life and possible social media will be plucked out of the aether by a good friend curious as to who and what this agent gets up to. Presumably not HYDRA business, but what about hydrant business? Is he the sort of man to take his dog for a walk and let it befoul the cityscape or is he diligent about picking up waste? Does he volunteer? Is he bribed with pastries?

"It's unkind to tease her without naming the top three candidates, Daisy," Jane deadpans that into the void, concerns tilted away as she glances at Jemma to gauge her reaction. Teasing their superior is something of a dangerous proposition, you know? A fine way to get an extra round of work because Jemma can do that now, dispensing bureaucratic horrors upon her underlings. Even so, the sword-and-wand-wielding astrophysicist isn't going to push it.

Daisy's making a clear approach for a cave, and you know, naturally one might lurch to awareness they may have an unfortunate impact with terrain. Nothing howls in loud whoops, insisting she pull up. Her eyes sharpen when the quinjet settles in safely and no one is going to be asking messy questions among tangles of burning wires and flaming metal about why she's standing there looking confused.

"The deterioration of Chief Carter's state after an attack wasn't exactly a secret, Daisy. Talk of the water cooler." Totally was. Brunette felled by HYDRAssassin! That's how it goes. "McLaren sounds like a good man. No matter what Daisy says, you deserves all the happiness. Especially after dealing with genetic resequencing. How many machines did you need for that? It sounds rather finicky work, and no one has lighter hands than you do."

Well, other than thieves. On the ground, it's safe to remove latches and belts, though she isn't in a rush to dash out into the unknown. Strangeness, and all that. "I look forward to discovering that you've built an entire play structure. With the means at your disposal, I expect at least /that/."

Daisy Johnson has posed:
"I am -not- going down that rabbit hole.." Daisy then says about naming those three candidates. It's not the time! As for teasing superiors? Every day and every night! That's how Daisy rolls. Or maybe some day her head will if she finds an harsh one.

"Yea, it .., was sort of a big secret." But Daisy had been part of one of the missions to retrieve said blood. So, she knew! And so she gives Jane her best 'you can't fool me' look. Very similar to the one she sent her way about a certain Atillan. Maybe she is learning it from him. Communicating with looks and gestures. She will need to learn those if she wants to be a moon princess in the future! But all in good time ...

Daisy starts leading the way out of the quinjet, the hangar door opening and she jumping to the ground, neck rolling, a familiar smile to her face. It was sort of turning into their new home. Or at least one of them. She still had hers back in Hell's Kitchen, no matter how scarce time and opportunity was to go there now. "Vauly C. This way." she starts on leading the way there.

Jemma Simmons has posed:
There may have been a little bit of side-eye thrown Daisy's way...but that's about it. There is just a shrug as Jemma lets it go. "We used the same equipment that we used before. Though, I did have a little time to refine the delivery process before now. That singular injection point was a bit rough last time." Not that Jemma has to explain last time. Jane was there...she would know.

Jemma lets Daisy lead. However, once they get to the vault, it is Jemma that steps up, inputting a code to allow access to be granted. With the door open, Jemma leads through the vault towards a remote corner...which has another door in place. "Forgive the extra security. We didn't want any non-essential personnel intervening." Code entered...and access is granted.

Within, there is no pivot on the cryotube. No seesaw. Just a standard cryostasis pod, with a form within. The doctor steps up towards the panel, inputting the sequence to end the hibernation process. "This will take a minute or two."

Jane Foster has posed:
Three candidates for love and romance on the Senior Agent! Who will it be? The wacky inventor, Fitz Simmons? Mark McLaren, the soulful nerd? Or actual candidate number three, the one no one dare name in front of the lovely lady herself? Ratings beg to be unleashed on this remarkable adventure of scientific know-how and genius-level self-denial. Will ignorance bring bliss to our beloved heroine?

Find out on the next episode of SENIOR AGENT!

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Through the vault, which has an ominous tone to it, Jane presumably ought to set off a battery of alarms for security matters. That whole 'never swipe someone through' bit, right? Even diminished, SHIELD is SHIELD.

But she gets through. Dr. Foster, very AWOL, apparently has no issues with that. For reals.

Jane inclines her head at Daisy's very purposeful look, the kind that says 'you know something.' "One of our assumed allies who likes black t-shirts informed me. No worrying about a security breach when the source comes through independent means. Regardless, I'm still bound by the covenants that Fury and Coulson had me agree to after New Mexico. Nothing giving me a pass there, you know?"

Especially because something inconvenient like 'death' or 'I was frozen' has anything to do with it. If Steve Rogers has to abide by agreements he signed with Erskine and the US government, nothing like inconsequential vanishing stands to have an impact. Not in the least. Attilan is another matter altogether. Or the fact those complex gestures of a court language nuanced as Mandarin is with tones is known by a non-moon princess, gasp.

Another door leads on, and another, since they apparently have to get to China, or the hollow city at the earth's core. "Hardly a problem. You kept me alive under horrid circumstances, and that cannot have been easy." Not with what she knows. Not with what she doesn't.

The final gate waits, a tube that once was Margaret Carter's cradle and tomb. Her own, now, right? Dipped in frost, the nicer version of the Winter Soldier project, that sort of icy bath that halts degradation. Or tht's kind of the point. "I've waited this long. I think I can manage another two. So do you /live/ here or have you scattered outward?"

Daisy Johnson has posed:
"With non-essential basically being Jemms and I.." Daisy adds in ways of explanation when Jemma goes through the layers of defense that lead to the vault where Jane 1.0 is resting at. Daisy makes her way in alongside the rest, hands on the back pockets of her jeans and looks over at the pod, expression a touch more sober.

"Well, we knew you were looking over us too." She says over to Jane with a small nod, perhaps a reminiscence to the doppel-shooting Jemma episode. A grateful smile given her way and then her attention goes to the pod.

Would they be seeing double now? Two Janes? What was going to happen?

Jemma Simmons has posed:
"I have a room in the recreation/living quarters. Daisy rooms with me, when she is here. Otherwise, she has a boy toy she stays with." See?! Two can play the teasing game! Though there is not much more from Jemma on the teasing front. "There was an incident where she set fire to the room, somehow. Other than that, a model roommate." Of course, part of the time was with Psuedo-Jemma, so...that might not be a completely winning endorsement. This Jemma has no complaints, though.

As Jemma continues to cycle through the defrost process, she keeps her eyes upon the monitor...but speaks out, to both of them. "Yes. There was a sense that you was near. Really, with all the trace amounts of energy radiation from your trinket, I would wager that you was watching over quite a few people." Just ask sometime. Jemma will show you the map with all the gridpoints with Jane-spottings.

With a few more keystrokes, Jemma steps back. "That should do it. Just a few more seconds now." As if to answer, the seal on the pod breaks, the hissing of air escaping plainly evident. Then, the lid slowly opens, the cool air within condensing into water vapor upon contact with the warmer air outside. It makes for a rather surreal moment...mysterious as the fog obscures the contents within the pod...

Jane Foster has posed:
"I appreciate not being a spectacle or part of a compromising situation. The energy draw of that thing probably would have raised questions under the circumstances." Would it? Jane has to make some leaps of logic between the few crumbled lilypads capable of supporting reason. Not like SHIELD just happily hauled everything they had out of storage, including cryotubes, unless they have multiple Nicholas Furies to transport and Jane got tossed in there by accident. Alas, being a Rank 5 doesn't equate out to a 7 or a 9, someone actually worth spending time and money on. Resources that otherwise need to go back into essential needs.

"When she is here? Still hiding out in New York?" The hint of a smile grows; the Furiae aren't all that different. See! Three can tease. "Or maybe the Royal Dragon keeps her pinned down, more than a boy. You know how little she can resist those wontons or dumplings." Look, at this point, it's Delaware. They might burn the building and its attachments down for the chance at decent Chinese food without driving into DC. "I'm not announcing a trinket on my next profiling, so you know. Otherwise they are going to look at me like I grew a tail and announced I'm actually a shark." That Nanaue wanders the world makes no difference. This is a respectable government agency, not a crazy house full of magical sharks with fingers. Unmagical sharks. "Useful to know you've clamped onto suspicious energy signatures, though hopefully that level of engineering won't fall into the wrong hands in the future. I imagine it won't bother some, but others may be perturbed to hear we can watch their movements."

The things you worry about when facing the unknown. Air pools out and poof, how exciting! The contents of the pod contain something that really hasn't changed in months. Whatever supports holding time in a bottle still does, though adding a bit of room temperature air stirring around won't alter the disposition of someone not moving or sustaining function beyond the uttermost basics.

Jane glances to the unsealed pod, and then back to Jemma. Her smile is lopsided, lifted slightly to the left, a dimple showing. The dark, crackling weight of her eyes briefly goes to the ceiling. "Ha ha. Well-played. You got me."

Daisy Johnson has posed:
There's a raised brow given to Jemma at the teasing. Hmph! Daisy is the one that does the teasing here! And then Jane joins in. Head rotates to look at one, then the other. "Look here, I am the teaser in this posse we have running here, not the teased!" establishing some ground rules! But then she sighs. "I miss those dumplings..." a beat, "Not as much as I miss my boy." a look to Jemms, "who is -not- a toy."

"And you have even met him, Jemms. Shame on you." A tsk escaping Daisy's lips and then her attention is on the hiss and puff from the pod...

As the body is revealed Daisy looks at Jane (the moving one), then to the sleeping beauty Jane. A hrm leaves her throat.

"I mean, yes. We got you for like, six months or so.." no joke there! No prank. No camera guy stepping out from behind the cryo pod over yonder with party poppers.

Her gaze settles on Jemma, "How can this be?"

Jemma Simmons has posed:
After the fog clears...and the body is revealed....Jemma just stands there for a second. Maybe even ten. Perhaps she expected the body to just simply not be there, despite all the monitoring that she had in place. At least...the universe didn't implode when Jane saw herself. So..there's that.

Then Daisy asks her question. And the answer...is not that reassuring. "I couldn't tell you. We are dealing with forces that I have yet to quantify. I mean, it is possible that it may be an alternate dimensional Jane that we have here, or quite simply a clone. However, given the battery of tests that we have performed, we know that the individual within the stasis chamber is Jane. Just...without any spark. The body is alive and breathing...there just isn't, for lack of a better term, a soul within."

And...with that, Jemma turns her attention to the Jane that is indeed awake and looking upon herself. "I, no...*we* are not playing here. This is what we have been attempting to keep quiet for months now. The fact that your physical body there is very much alive, but soulless. So, you can imagine our surprise when not only did we find you enjoying the museums in London...but that your bracelet, which the god of thunder stated was specifically mystical and could not be removed from your person...somehow removed itself and found you, in London, while sealed in a stasis chamber with no visible signs of removal."

Jane Foster has posed:
Look, it's a body on ice. Bucky Barnes more than anyone might be able to establish the equilibrium and atmospheric arch of an eyebrow for the situation the three women find themselves in. At least they have privacy, high walls and a security-sealed door, with which to grapple with the future.

"You're the teaser alone? No, not likely," the astrophysicist quips, pointing an accusing finger. "Your boy and a heap of dumplings sounds delicious, especially with crazy sauces. You can't blame me for wanting a plate. You've introduced us to your cat but not your boyfriend. At least you met Jemma's crush and my dog or partner." Eyes narrow in amusement, her tone daunting without being harsh, for being unkind isn't in her nature.

The moving Jane puts a hand on her hip, and then considers the wall, the floor, the women. This isn't the most thrilling of rooms. "The decor might be a bit on the dodgy side. We could use a fresh coat of paint, a kid's play area. Going to IKEA might be in order, ladies." Why not ride this all the way to the end?

The body is there: frozen, fair, dark hair curling around a face drawn far, far away. Her eyes are shut, lips cool and nearly blue. The Snow Maiden of old stories doesn't look too remarkable. Whatever Jemma kept her dressed in, Amora's Asgardian raiment or something else, is exactly what she's wearing. The embodied soul? She's in the loose tunic, jeans, and low Chelsea boots she walked onto a Quinjet in, thank you Topshop.

"Then I hate to tell you, Jemma, since you are the most analytical person in the room or the damn organization. Not knowing our director's mind as well as yours, at least." She waves her hand, gesturing at the tube. "But have you checked for a projection? It's empty."

Daisy Johnson has posed:
As that staredown towards the body continues for a few seconds longer, a staredown that Jane's body is bound to win by the detail of not having to blink or .., do anything else, Daisy looks at the others in a thoughtful manner. "Well, we already know the bracelet has traces of mjolnir, or is something alike it." she states. "We also know the Gods of Death are involved considering the little .., disturbance we had down here when Loki came by." now *that* had been traumatic.

"The question would be, what do we know about Asgardian rebirth? There's a clear connection between it all. Maybe that's what happened." but she's not exactly the expert where it comes to those matters.

"Also, we for sure *will* be doing a meet-up sometime soon ..., hopefully. Though Jemma has met Matt already, when we were at Afterlife." a beat, ".., that was the former home of the Inhumans."

Jemma Simmons has posed:
Waaaaaiiiiit a minute.

Jane's comment to Jemma snaps her into attention. There is, very obviously, a body in the cryostasis chamber. It, also very obviously, is Jane in form. Jemma sees it there. A flicker of concern clouds her features as she turns to regard Daisy. "You see it there, too. Yes?" Those brown eyes return to study Jane...the Jane blind to her previous physical form, as if searching for an answer. The body is right there. And...she doesn't see it? That is more disconcerting.

The curiousity gives way to experimentation. For someone like Jemma, it always is the inevitable destination. Just how oblivious is Jane in regards that her physical form is merely feet away? With a slight frown, Jemma steps over towards the dethawing form, starting her usual check for wellness. This time, though, she takes her time and is meticulous with her examination, taking the pulse manually, checking for breathing, and so on. Nevermind the fact that there are sensors present to allow that to happen without touch. No....this is more than that.

Perhaps Jemma wants to relay to Jane that there is actually something there. Something she is actually interacting with. Maybe there will be phantom feelings, inexplicable with any other reason except the obvious. Maybe Jemma will sense something different than any other time she has performed this check. Or, maybe, Jane will just think that Jemma became extremely good at pantomime. Who knows?

However, if Jane continues to believe that there is nothing there, then Jemma may have to take drastic measures. Perhaps...having the two Janes touch, if that is possible. Though...that may be extremely reckless.

Jane Foster has posed:
"Is everyone but me get to meet everyone else in the Afterlife?" The trace note of amusement doesn't last long, but while it blooms, Jane smiles a little. The colourful world that Daisy alludes to seems to hold an appeal because it clearly matters to their resident world-shaker. But those shadows keep on gathering and changing while the bulletpointed history comes up again.

She shakes her head a fraction. "Be my guest to send a message to the All-Father with your questions. I don't even know whether Heimdall permits mail up the bridge. Thor might be willing, if we ask nicely and give sufficient time for him to exit the palace." Read also: run fron dad and head back to the meadhall.

She might envy him hopping the Hammertime Express, a fast route back into London or New York's best watering hole. Clearly this is not an option for either of her friends, and she shakes her head. "I hate to be the one to ask. You are /certain/ this isn't Loki messing with you? Possibly Amora?" The light tone dips into something more serious, and she stares at the pod with a fixed attention as though able to peer through the perfectly frosty glass. "Neither of them have reason to care for me. I'm sorry if they drew you into one of their schemes, truly I am." Fat lot of good she can do about it, though. Who contests the gods of Asgard but the gods of Asgard?

Don't say mum. Frigga sure can, of course, but she's above this mess. Toying with mortals hardly follows the fearless compassion and splendid majesty of Thor and Loki's mother.

"Beyond that, I am far too realistic to think HYDRA had any quarrel with me. I don't register for most people nad if they wanted to hurt SHIELD, knocking me out doesn't track. My research can be duplicated." Not really. "So. Why?" The problem for Jemma is that she /does/ see it as an elaborate pantomime. Very convincing. Except that's just a mummer going about a farce.

Daisy Johnson has posed:
Hol' up...

Jane can't see her own body? That sort of puts all thought of sending the All-Father or Thor some stern letter asking for clarifications. Because now she is eyeing the body with a *lot* more attention. And damn it! Loki was here before. It could all be an illusion.

"I hate tricksters..." Regardless of whether this is or not an illusion! She shifts her attention up to Jemma and then down to the body. Focusing, she brings about her powers to check for that vibrational signature. It registers. The same as with the Jane that's walking and talking now. "It's not an illusion.." she then finally states to Jemma.

So that's settled. But now... "Why don't you put your hand where Jemma's hand is?" she suggests.

Some people just want to see the world burn.

Jemma Simmons has posed:
Honestly, Jemma kinda wants to see what happens, too. No denying it this time.

Jemma reaches under, cupping a prone, still cool hand into her own, and lifts it up. With the way that Jemma's cradling hand must look to Jane, it could very well be Jemma just asking for some food...like some poor pauper in the middle of a Charles Dickens novel. Still, there *is* an hand cradled within her own. Daisy and Jemma both see it.

Let's just hope that this isn't a case of complete universal detonation. After all, they are trying to 'cross the streams', so to speak.

"I most assuredly can say, without a shred of doubt in my being, that I am currently holding your hand. Unless this illusion is so life-like that it is capable of fooling my senses, the best medical sensors that SHIELD has to offer, and Daisy's own vibrational awareness." Those eyes do not leave Jane's as Jemma speaks. One can almost feel the weight of truth that they hold.

"If this is all just an illusion, then I will immediately stop my quest for science and study to be a sorceress or whatever because it will be quite obvious that science would have failed me at this point."

Jane Foster has posed:
Please, send the All-Father a few forms in triplicate and demand proper medical records or supporting documentation from the office of the raven king. Perhaps imply a diplomatic incident involving a quarrel between his sons, or a matter of pressing concern. After all, Loki lives with Sif! Is she at risk or complicit? Is Amora masquerading /as/ Loki to drive a wedge into their Aesir Peace?

Pax Asgardia, man.

"I believe myself incomparably rotten at theatre," Jane says with a tried patience. "It didn't go well in high school." Patience might be dwindling but she pats the open glass pod. Her hand connects with the smooth container's outer sides, right down to the spiderwebbed cracks left by breaking her hand to get Peggy out when the alarm went off. Pat pat. Follow an invisible contour, though this is a half-hearted attempt at best, since she clearly has no idea of what she is supposed to be outlining. Some nice hills, the kind rolling up in Vermont or New York when the trees change colour? The staccato rise and fall approximates a couple maples for someone much more familiar with conifers, as technicolour as they are not.

Dry commentary from Simmons side brings forth a raised eyebrow. "I will point out Loki almost convinced a borough to follow his bidding. That probably scrapes a surface. I'm not a cynic, but the bar for impossible to plausible dropped through the floor in the past ten years." It's not been that long since the devastating battle, but boy, does it feel like it. "Which is to say, Asimov's indistinguishable comment becomes twice as terrifying when you suggest being a sorceress."

Her hand drops into Jemma's cupped hand. Skin touches skin. Jemma Simmons' good English flesh, that is, meeting her own. "There. See?"

Jemma Simmons has posed:
Curiouser and curiouser...

Jemma certainly feels Jane's cold hand. That much is certain. But...her eyes watch as the conscious Jane drops her hand *through* the cold digits upon Jemma's palms, to have those fingers rest upon Jemma's own flesh. Jemma's eyes grow wide. She feels, somehow, both hands...and sees the two melding together, but yet knows that Jane only sees the one. "Daisy? Please, document this. Take a picture. Perhaps a portrait will be able to be seen." There is doubt there, most certainly. After all, Jane just passed through herself. But maybe, maybe....if she sees with eyes that are not her own, there might be a chance.

And, if nothing else, it will make for a really interesting picture.

After Daisy pulls out her phone to snap the pic, Jemma places the hand down...the cooling hand...and reaches up to grasp the other, warm hand of Jane's. Just as much to provide reassurance to herself as it is to Jane. "Judging from preliminary observations, you cannot see or touch your prone form. It is, almost in essence, as if you are an astral form made real, if one would believe such nonsense." Judging from Jemma's tone, she is having a hard time with it herself. It, in this case, being the whole concept of existing outside of one's own body. But...she has seen stranger things.

"I do not know why. And, really, I would not be the expert even if I could explain it. But, I assure you, this is not some kind of joke. Because...this is not humourous to me in the slightest."

Somehow, Jemma seems determined to get the two Janes back together. With no idea exactly how to do that.

Daisy Johnson has posed:
Picture? Daisy is all for it. She springs out her trusty smartphone for a pic or two of the two Janes, and Jemma, and Daisy in the pic... Look, selfies are a thing in the 21st century. And there needs to be some levity in this thing before Jemma develops much more of that frown. "No duck faces." it's a rule for selfies.

Pictures are taken and all that. To prove to Miss Jane the existence of OG Jane. Or at least Daisy *hopes* they show together in the pics. She turns it towards the duo so they can see it. At least Daisy *can* see them together. "There..., can you see that?" she asks.

"Though it's very curious that you can .., sort of just move through your body.." Uh .., look at that. She looks at Jemma with that kind of look she isn't sure her suggestion will be crazy or not. "What if we had Jane lie down inside the cryopod?" aka, to fully be immersed in the other Jane.

Jane Foster has posed:
Jane's cold hand resides within the chamber, though slowly rising to room temperature as much as the vault meets the criteria. Slack and unremarkable fingers offer no compassionate grip for Jemma to take hold of. The fact they remain supple-ish and not rigid, at least, presents a hopeful narrative against the onslaught time takes on the mortal subjects deprived of shelter from its harsh embrace. Jemma will feel that, and Daisy too, if both of them opt to claim a hand of a fallen friend.

And Jane -- the animated one, anyway -- offers a warm touch of scintillatingly real presence. The callouses are there, a good number fresher than the frosty digits. Warmth and the tangible suggestion of a pulse moving through the volar digital artery right to the tip of her finger prove to one agent of life; the other will hear that beat, surely, separate from the very quiet vibrational scale of a defrosting popsicle doctor and the senior agent asking for a photo.

Both hands then are brought together in practically a prayer position. She accepts this, Jane calm in the face of Jemma trying to parse through scientific exclusions of unlikely scenarios until Occam's razor leaves behind 'I don't get paid enough for this.' "I'm having a time believing that, and I am trying. I wasn't lying in knowing something is missing but there's no body there. So much for the whole put on a sweater and come out fresh as a daisy."

A brief pause stretches out, harbouring a grimace. Her thoughts turn from the Ebony Blade, that one horrid bit of fallen star with a habit of eating people. How do you glue something back together? Questions without telling. Daisy surely can take a very nice shot. Yes, look, a picture of... well, it's not the /clearest/ shot of Jane lying frosty-cold, Jemma looks clear, and there is Jane fully realized. Awkward shot since no smiles or impromptu victory signs get involved at the warning. A stare of a thousand light years, there.

She looks blankly at the photograph, and back. "I see exactly what I'm seeing, Daisy. Me and Jemma." Jemma and I. Jemmane. "You seriously want me to lie down in that." She sighs, uneasy. "We last pulled Peggy Carter out as she was literally dying from this. Those weren't happy memories and we don't have Chinese food or anything to break me out if this seals me in, you understand." Still, she is willing to do it. They asked. Scientist minds and all that, try it on yourself first.

Thump. Good god, it's *cold*. See? Girl in pod. Also girl in pod. Coterminous but not co-occupied girl in pod. They both fit because Jane goes right through... Jane?

Jemma Simmons has posed:
Tsk, tsk. It isn't so much that Jemma disapproves anything. If anything, she disapproves of the fact that Jane literally cannot see herself. Like, straight from the myths of vampires...only, without the whole mirror thing. "That is disappointing, although not altogether unexpected. Whatever caused this separation of essentially Jane's essence from her body is most likely causing the failure to see her other form. I would say it would be a mental block, since Jane believes herself to be alive and well, but that does not explain the fact that her touch passes through her form." With that, Jemma places the colder hand down and steps away from the stasis chamber...to contemplate more.

So, when Daisy asks Jane to lay in the tube...that is a mild surprise, but again, not altogether unexpected. Jemma wouldn't have asked for that...but only because she actually saw (and felt) the hand pass through to touch her own...and did not pass through her own. So...while a full contact scenario would be interesting to see...it was highly unlikely that it would work. But...then Jane actually crawls in. And...that surprises Jemma more. The super imposed image, of Jane within a Jane, is almost too much. It is almost ghostly, in its own manner.

"Fascinating..."

The one word response is followed by a shaking of the head. "You can get out of there, Jane. Not that you would need to worry about the chamber at all, as this particular stasis chamber is in optimum working order and will not seal without my express intent. But also because it is apparent that just attempted contact will do nothing to reintroduce what I assume is your soul made physical to your actual body. I fear that we are going to need a resource more adept in the spiritual and metaphysical than I am." The thought actually seems to annoy her, just slightly. "I hate to admit it...but this is out of my league."

Jane Foster has posed:
"My essence? We sound like a terrible novel written by a man pretending to understand women," Jane quips in a deadpan tone. Lying in a cryochamber ranks right up there with things she'd rather not do. Losing her precious research or facing down a huge animated suit of armour eager to wipe gods off the board, also high. The chamber is in fact cold and more than a little wet as its coolants struggle to function in their demanding situation. Room temperature results mean one soggy situation in time.

Or a thawed out, comatose woman free to be preyed upon by the ravages of time and weakness. Unaware she is -- or not -- squashing herself, the brunette astrophysicist really refuses to remain there overly long. The glass container wasn't intended for such misuse. "Lucky for you, I haven't yet acquired a sense of claustrophobia. Thank Dad for the pup tent he hauled halfway across the Olympic National Forest for a decade." Happier memories might keep the building discomfort at bay. It's really just a large test tube. Not a pleasant one.

Oh, if she had any idea the travails of Bucky Barnes, she would never fail to appreciate the awfulness of his situation. Fascinating means out, because they both know the descriptor isn't kind or playful. She practically bolts out of the chamber with as much speed as possible. That shirt happens to be thin, it's /cold/. Pulling on her hair and the neck, she makes a face. "I promise I will never do that again."

On her feet, she stares down. Pokes at the bottom. Pokes at the sides. Each impression of her fingers leaves marks, but certainly nothing that intersects with a body. "We're sure Daisy hasn't stowed away a projector."

Jemma Simmons has posed:
"Positive."

Jemma walks over towards Jane, reaching over to gently take her hand...and having it grasp around Jemma's own wrist. The fingertips and warmth from Jane's fingers are ever present...but it seems that Jemma has other ideas in mind. With one hand clasped over Jane's hand...which is holding the wrist on Jemma's *other* hand, she leads Jane gently to upper edge of the stasis chamber, close to the head. And....again leading, Jemma places her hand gently upon the Jane-popsicle's shoulder, resting it there gently.

For what purpose? It becomes clear in a moment.

"Jane, I want you to push my hand that you are currently holding down. Try to have my hand touch the bottom of this chamber."

Ah...one more test, it seems. Jemma can see the form...and touch it. Perhaps as a means to provide Jane some modicum of truth...that there is something there...Jemma is content to use herself as the medium.

"Just this once. Please, try. Afterwards, I will close the chamber and keep the contents within in hibernation while we contemplate just how to correct the situation."

Situation. A funny way of putting things. But, again, it seems that maybe Jemma is stalling for time, while her mind works through the problem. And yet, she seems adamant to prove that there is something there. That something is indeed amiss.

Jane Foster has posed:
Jane looks absolutely nonplussed about being asked to take Jemma's hand and shove it into the bottom of the cryochamber. It is no stranger than standing in a particular stance while a partner prepares to fling her in a controlled fashion to a mat, being shown by sensei how to roll with a blow for purposes of education. While she could to question the purpose Jemma holds in mind, a particular trust in the woman if not the system applies.

She pushes Jemma's hand. "If you are right, are we going to break me? This me?" A gesture in the general direction amounts to a roll of her shoulder, warm and pleasant, whereas the bonier, cold, and wet version cannot be pleasant for the doctor to feel. Bombs away, boom, and the pressure being exerted down clearly isn't very comfortable for someone sandwiched between it. It hurts. Jane leans in and her fingers end up brushing the base of the chamber. Jemma's hand? Predictably is going to feel bruised, flattened some.

"Nothing," she says, pointing out their compressed palms. "I'm sorry." Truly, she is.

How to deconstruct the molecular issue there? That's not for a cup of coffee.

Jemma Simmons has posed:
Nothing. Which...is exactly the intent.

Jemma's hand remains stalwart, apparently floating in the air...and yet is visibly crushed. At least, to Jane's perception. For Jemma, it is as expected, crushed between a warm embrace and a cold shoulder. "Don't be sorry. Did you see? My hand did not move. It *could* not move. It just confirms that which I suspected. Your malady is unique to you alone. You cannot interact with yourself...but if given a third party, you must have sensed that there was a force pushing back. That...would be you."

Still, it did hurt. Jemma isn't going to deny that. She releases her grip from Jane. Both Janes, allowing for her hand to be recovered. "I will start the hibernation sequence and close the chamber. I do believe we have played enough in the Playground for today. Interactions between you and your shell, for lack of a better term, are fruitless until further research can be performed."

The specific commands are entered...and the hissing of air as the lid closes and the seal is renewed breaks through the otherwise silent vault. "If you have any ideas, I would be welcomed to receive them. As it is now, I fear that I may need to resort to consorting with WAND to determine what exactly is the best methodology to proceed from here. I sincerely doubt going to any other potential resource would be the best as this point." A few more moments...and Jemma nods, seeing that the cryogenic process has been re-established.

"Come on. We can do a proper tour of the Playground. I may even show you where that see-saw would be at...right next to the slide and the jungle gym."