714/Triselkion Trick or Treat

Triselkion Trick or Treat
Date of Scene:	23 March 2020
Location:	Rec and Res: Triskelion
Synopsis:	No description
Cast of Characters:	Mason Tavner, Jessica Drew

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Mason Tavner has posed:
    Deep in the 'basement' of the Triskelion is where agents hunker down to get their work done and their tasks under control. At all hours of the day any number of agents are around in their cubicles or at shared desk environments. Sometimes they even overflow into the cafeteria areas and snack alcoves.
    But further in beyond the offices are some of the other facilities for keeping the staff working steadily even in a crisis. There are the banks of showers, the shared living areas, the barracks with their ranks of cots. Some agents actually live down there from time to time to cut down on the cost of living.
    But only one of them sets up shop in one of the rec rooms, deep away from most other personnel. A one Agent Tavner who in this moment, dressed in his civvy ensemble being jeans, a t-shirt, and a grey hoodie... well he's tuning his guitar. The slight plinking can likely be heard down the corridor while he does it.

Jessica Drew has posed:
Heads turn as the tall, black haired woman strides down the corridor, boots clacking on the institutional tile floors. The smell of laboratories drove her here, trying to flee the associations she has with their particular smell. The rec room is not high end: old, dog eared copies of Newsweek litter a book shelf and the tables and chairs have seen hard wear. Pensive, bordering on angry, she slams money into a coffee machine. Percussion to the guitar chords she hears coming from the another room, she hits the machine hard when the cup hangs up and half the coffee goes down the drain. Against her better judgement, cup in hand, she looks into the next room.

Mason Tavner has posed:
    In that room there's the Agent. Tavner she might recognize if she drags through her memory and all of the briefings she had to endure. STRIKE team guy, weapons specialist. But other than that, not much might stick out beyond a dredged up mental image that might not even be right.
    But then he starts playing a little, sounds like folk music, slow and easy-going with a casual pluck of chords as he hums a bit, picking out his melody then, adding some lyrics.

"An Amazon tried ta get through se-cur-ity..."
"She didn't mean nothin ta no one."
"She held her hands up and didn't appreciate."
"The way Agent Shamus held that stun gun."
"M'sure... m'sure he regrets it now."
"What with his new teeth."
"Moral of the story is though..."

    An errant note is struck and he frowns, leaning forward as the music stops. He hrmfs goes back to tuning.

Jessica Drew has posed:
Jessica leans against the doorway, reluctant to break in on this moment of musical creativity. An eyebrow raises at the line involving a stun gun. Sipping, she forgets her irritation with the machine that only masks a deeper dread of laboratories. The man playing has a familiar look to him, undoubtedly someone she has crossed in a meeting though she can't place him quite yet bent over the guitar, eyes intent on his fingers.

Mason Tavner has posed:
    The bearded man bites his lower lip and frowns to himself as he adjusts the tension on one of the strings, but then he looks up across the way, catching sight of Jessica's silhouette in the doorway. An easy-going smile settles into place in the corner of his mouth as he gives her an upnod in recognition before lifting his voice as well. "Agent Drew."
    He lowers his eyes back to the guitar and plucks a few more chords, playing back some of that earlier melody mixing it up a little. "Yer up late." He mentions that off-handedly, no judgment. Just commenting.

Jessica Drew has posed:
"And you aren't?" Jessica's smile is a pale reflection of his. "Agent...I don't know your name but you know mine."

She looks down at her already empty coffee cup. "I want another, if the machine works do you want something?"

Mason Tavner has posed:
    "So it seems," Mason lifts his eyes up toward the ceiling as if only just now realizing how late he's up, but he smiles across the way toward her and gives a nod. "Sure." Though he doesn't elaborate as to the what, letting her decide that when it comes down to it.
    Instead he sets the guitar down on the table behind him and pushes himself to his feet, streeeetching out his arms and rolling his head left and right until a small crackle is heard. "Mm," He murmurs and then perches on the tabletop, waiting for her to return.
    When she does he lifts his voice, "My excuse is I've got an op in..." He looks up at the clock on the wall, "Three hours. What's yers?"

Jessica Drew has posed:
"I get to sleep in, go to a mid-morning meeting and then head back to the city." Jessica hands him a cup of black coffee but has backed herself up with real milk in plastic capsules and sugar packets in another cup complete with stirrer. Her black coffee steams. "I've stopped your music, Agent...I don't know your name. Do you need an excuse? Is that a power of yours, not needing sleep?"

Mason Tavner has posed:
    Eyebrows raising, "Sorry. Tavner. Mason Tavner." There's a pause as he sits there on the tabletop, accepting the cup of coffee and seems alright to take it just as it is without milk nor sweetener. Then he adds with a half-smirk, "Agent Mason Tavner." As if just for completeness' sake.
    He takes a sip of coffee and nods to her, "Mmm, just used ta bein' able ta go without sleep. Or get it when I need it. Military and all." That said he cants his head to the side, "But nah. Not a power."

Jessica Drew has posed:
"Ah, ex-military. The organization is *rife* with them." Jessica's eyes sparkle with challenge. The cup with the sugar and milk is abandoned to another table. She pulls a chair out sideways to seat herself, brushes back her hair and sips looking at him. The coffee seems to restore a semblance of good humor to her. "Mission...which mission? I was pulled down her to be briefed on some new ops."

Mason Tavner has posed:
    "Ehn," Tavner tilts his head as he looks away, then looks back and lifts a hand to wave it to the side, "They save the glamorous stuff for you guys, Drew." His smile is there, though hard to recognize easily since he's so deadpan. Maybe with time she'll key in on his sense of humor, but for now it's entirely feasible she might take it the wrong way.
    "The underground bases, the secret archeology digs, the giant monsters." His lip twitches though he tries to hide it by looking away, "Grunts like me I get nursemaid duty to newly arrived Amazons, or hot drops. Constant hot drops." Those hot drops being the jobs where you just go somewhere and leave some equipment for another operative to make use of.

Jessica Drew has posed:
Jessica's British accent is more pronounced when angry or amused. He amuses her with that subtle turn of his head and less subtle dig at her special powers. "Yes, I am one of the ones on the - what do you call it here? The short bus?" Looking at him over the top of her cup, matching his deadpan gaze, "Beware of having crushes on Amazons. They can be quite hard to win over or so I hear."

Mason Tavner has posed:
    "Ehn," Again there's that sound, non-committal and yet disagreeing as he elaborates, "She's not that bad. Just you know the deal. Man's World this and Man's World that. And how everything is better on their island." He crinkles his nose a little and waves a hand.
    But then he affixes her with his gaze, "But m'not exactly the sort that goes around gettin' crushes on people."
    He takes another sip of the coffee, then holds it out, peering at it as if it might have something down in its depths before he scrunches up one eye and then looks back to her, "Mebbe mild infatuation. At most." His lip twitches.

Jessica Drew has posed:
"I don't inflict my advice on just anyone. Nor do I withdraw the caveat. Beware of Amazons." Good humor restored, Jessica raises her cup in a toast to him and sips her coffee. "Will you sing her your song?"

Mason Tavner has posed:
    "Oh nah," Mason draws his leg up and leans back on the table. The building is so empty, so quiet this late at night, it's almost as if the entire world above didn't exist and it was just them there in that dour monochromatic room with its recycled air. "That wasn't a love song or anythin' if that's what you were meaning."
    The agent looks towards the door and murmurs, "Sometimes just like writin' songs about what I deal with while I'm doin' my job. Helps me keep my head on straight. And tweaks the brass. So. Win win."
    That said he gives a nod, "Tell ya what, if we go on a mission together I'll write somethin' about that too and you'll be in it."

Jessica Drew has posed:
Jessica has no witty come back to that. Too many SHIELD agents have lost their lives fighting next to people of her ilk. Eyes lowered, she shrugs, finally saying, "That would be quite the mission. I'd be honored. I'm sorry for having teased you so. I can be terrible when I'm in a mood."

Mason Tavner has posed:
    The musician pulls one leg up, resting his hands on the knee so he can look at her as she looks around the room, then bck up into his blue eyes. "Yeah?" He asks, curiousity light but still there in the words, that tone. He gives a small smile and offers a nod. "What sort of mood?"
    He'll look once again toward the door, just checking in case someone might come on through, but when nobody else does so he looks back to her, "Anything I can help with?" He asks curiously.

Jessica Drew has posed:
Jessica uncrosses her legs and smiles with mild self-derision. "Do you ever have things that you know make you angry but you can't stop yourself? Like barking dogs that won't quit or sneezing eight times in a row? Laboratories and sneezing. I swear every time I won't let it get to me. But I'm usually swearing by the sixth sneeze and the smell of laboratories, the ozone or the antiseptics make me want to bite everyone's heads off.

Without preamble, she segues into one of the reasons she has come to Headquarters. "We've been working on the Columbian gangs that are trying to make a comeback. There will probably be a turf war between them and the Russians. Fairly small potatoes compared to fighting HYDRA."

Mason Tavner has posed:
    "Ah," Mason nods as he listens to her, and for now to Colombian gangs are forgotten, the details of the turf war. Even Hydra. Since none of those things can he do anything about. Instead he focuses on the fact about laboratories and sneezing. "Well the former, can't help you much I imagine."
    He uncurls a hand toward her, "The latter. I can mebbe commiserate." Mason sits up, "My father, if you met him you'd find him this great, easy-goin' guy. Just super mellow. Barely talks above a whisper most of the time."
    Then he tilts his head, "Except, when he sneezes. Just out of nowhere, has no idea it's coming, and then when he sneezes just shouts this giant sneeze that was terrifying, he'd yell it out like he was being attacked by a banshee. Ever since then, cuz of my childhood. Can't stand sneezes. Loud ones at least."

Jessica Drew has posed:
A smile surfaces, genuinely amused, Jessica laughingly says, "Grounds for divorce. Not that you had recourse to that. I promise you my sneezes are not terribly loud just seemingly unending at times." After reviewing what she just said, she quickly adds, "Not that you'll have to worry about that. My being on the short bus and all." Rising, she collects her cup. "I will let you get back to your composing, Agent Tavner. I'll remember to never sneeze loudly around you, too."

Mason Tavner has posed:
    "Ehn, this time next week you'll have forgotten me, Agent Drew." His lip twists a little, "But if not feel free to wander on by again. Alright?" And with that he toasts her with the cup of coffee, giving thanks at the least.