7204/Dollhouse: Moving back to the Triskelion

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Dollhouse: Moving back to the Triskelion
Date of Scene: 15 August 2021
Location: Main Foyer: Triskelion
Synopsis: SHIELD is back in the Triskelion. And a new Green Lantern arrived in town.
Cast of Characters: Bobbi Morse, Natasha Romanoff, Clifford Secord, Cael Becker, Darcy Lewis, Clint Barton, Jessica Drew, Lance Hunter, Michael Erickson, Sara Pezzini, John Stewart

Bobbi Morse has posed:
    Sure the military were super excited to try and conquer the Triskelion. They failed. They couldn't get in to our vaults or our computers - and they really tried hard. But they weren't so super excited to clean up the mess they made when they pulled out. No doubt, they left plenty of bugs behind.

    Agent Morse isn't the first to arrive, nor will she be the last, but it still feels good to plant her feet on the solid marble SHIELD eagle embedded in the foyer floor. She swooped in from the skies wearing her full mockingbird costume. Wings snapped in place and goggles on.

    At the doors, two Agent Keonig's are checking everyone has valid identification from The Playground before they can actually enter the building. The last thing they need is a big security violation on day one back home. Bobbi takes the time to slowly turn around and take in the ambiance of the place. This building has many memories and secrets, but a new chapter is just beginning...

Natasha Romanoff has posed:
"I see the military still doesn't have a janitor division." Comes the bland assessment from Natasha Romanoff, who paces onto the scene while taking an appraising look around the foyer, her hands stuffed into black jacket pockets.

How and when did she get in? She tends not to say. It may have been mundane! Maybe.

"How bad do you think the quarters are?" It actually doesn't sound like a rhetorical question. If anything, one might get the impression that she's a little... anxious?

Clifford Secord has posed:
     Up in the sky a lone figure flies through the heavens soaring with the eagles. He's clad in a leather jacket and a bright bronze helmet atop his head piercing through the clouds like a knife traveling at five hundred miles per hour through the clouds.

     Over and under he loops and soars. In the sky he writes something using his own contrails from the large rocket pack mounted on his back. The words form and swirl behind him floating into view on the cool blue skies. "WELCOME HOME!" With a trailing exclamation point on the end signing off in cursive to finish the dot above the Triskelion.

     Touching down onto the ground the figure is none other than retired superhero and agent of SHIELD The Rocketeer. Dressed in full uniform with his SHIELD badge stitched into his leather jacket he touches down onto safe land taking those first few steps on New York soil, his head still hidden behind that bronze hoodorniment he calls a helmet.

Cael Becker has posed:
    A bright yellow Corvette pulls up to the parking area - accelerating and decelerating smoothly as it takes any curves, and finally pulls to a stop in the parking area. Cael steps out moments later - dressed as she almost always is in jeans, and a leather jacket, with boots and a simple shirt. Her SHIELD lanyard is worn visibly on her chest for the occassion as she looks up to watch the Rocketeer's antics and landing.
    "This job is always weird," she mutters to her companion, giving Sara a wry smile as the pair approach.
    And then she's showing her ID to the pair of completely identical agents at the door. What. The. Fuck.
    "...so weird," she repeats once she's in the foyer, looking around. This is actually her first trip to the Triskelion. Maybe not the best day to get oriented on the building but she figured she might as well try to lend a hand.

Darcy Lewis has posed:
In fact, Darcy DOES come by quinjet.

But there's a reason, and it's not because she took one for a joyride. The reason is that for the last several weeks, she's been out and about on duty as SWORD has scrambled to deal with the minor concern of an ongoing alien invasion. For her, it's meant bouncing between NASA and military facilities. And just recently, she was literally about as far away from New York as is physically possible, doing some work at CDSCC (Canberra Deep Space Communication Complex, for those not up on the NASA acronym lingo). Which, as the name suggests, is in Australia. So, you know, not exactly a quick drive over.

The vehicle is setting down when it gets buzzed by a dude in a jetpack, but fortunately the pilot is rather used to this sort of thing and doesn't get ruffled by it.

Darcy, on the other hand? "Holy monkeyballs did you see that?! Are they shooting at us?! I thought this was all-"

"No ma'am, that was- ah nevermind ma'am, we'll be touching down shortly."

One shortly later, they have done so. And a few more after that, Darcy is making her way inside, carrying a big cardboard box in her arms that is full of junk that she presumably needs. There is a second box, in fact, which she has coerced Pilot Man into carrying for her. She struggles wit hher box to holds up her ID lanyard as they come up to the entry. "Captain handsome here is just helping me with some of my gear."

Bobbi Morse has posed:
    Bobbi folds her arms and looks over where the voice of Natasha suddenly is. How does she do that? a mystery for the ages. "Bad," is her response to the question about quarters. She glances out the doors and sees the convoy of trucks heading their way across the long bridge.

    The flashy bronze helmet, a bit of SHIELD history right there, she smiles, "Agent Secord." The lights flicker for a moment as the servers reboot. The building hums back to life. Things are still locked down but at least now security is under their control once more.

    A third Keonig appears and is walking amongst the crowd handing out new lanyard for the Triskelion. He knows people by face and name already. He's coy like that. Which one is he? hard to say, they all look alike.

    Bobbi accepts her commanders lanyard and clips it on to her belt. "And just like that. We're back. Agent Becker, welcome to the Triskelion. Darcy welcome home. I'm not going to stand here and say hi to everyone, but the novelty hasn't worn off quite yet."

Clint Barton has posed:
    With a whine of engines, a quinjet approaches and sets down in the designated landing area, taxiing to one of the parking spots before the rear ramp deploys. The engines wind down and come to a stop as the pilot shuts the craft down, then Clint walks out the back, clad in his signature purple and black outfit. Looking around with a smile, he hits the control to shut the ramp as he steps off it and heads for the main building.

    He waves to various people he passes, as the maintenance folks who keep the quins flying are back as well. He holds up the badge that he wears on a lanyard around his neck as he approaches the door and the twins nod, one of them saying "Welcome back, Agent Barton. Congratulations on the promotion." Passing into the building, he's already looking around to see what the military has done to the place. It's a bit of a mess, but not awful. After all, this was the military, not a biker gang or something.

    He spots Bobbi and heads over to he, raising a hand in greeting as he gets close. "Good to be home, isn't it? The lobby doesn't look to badly messed up, have yopu had a chance to look around and see what the did to the rest of the place yet?"

Jessica Drew has posed:
The elevator dings and opens. Face hidden by two cardboard boxes, Jess peers around the side then edges out the door. Jessica Drew travels light. Her background and personal history all contribute to the habit.

"Do we have office assignments already?" she addresses the other agents in the lobby enthusiastically.

"It's great to be back home," she adds, echoing Agent Barton's words. Then, sliding a balled piece of paper out of the way with a smile. "I suppose the clean-up crew hasn't been through yet, either?"

Natasha Romanoff has posed:
Natasha nods her head solemnly in response, seemingly in no hurry to expound on the situation with words. She takes the lanyard with a wary look to Koenig, annnnd takes a cautionary step away as Clifford suddenly lands near them. "... Agent Secord." She greets politely with a small nod. Proffessional courtesy, as revealed when there's a somewhat more enthusiastic utterance of "Barton." When Clint makes the scene. She affects a small smile and shakes her head. "There wasn't as much to break in the lobby, I don't think. Plenty to throw around elsewhere."

Natasha is not looking forward to seeing the state of her room. Ain't nobody's allowed in there, and she can imagine one digging for gold in the dwelling of the Black Widow.

Lance Hunter has posed:
Hunter had picked up a motorbike while he was on vacation, figuring what the heck it was summer and Salem had some good roads to drive down. However it was not faster than that damn wingsuit, Bobbi beats him by a good while despite Hunter ignoring most speed limits and road safety laws on the way over.

Arriving he steps off his bike and collects a lanyard from one of the Koenigs. "Thanks which ever you are?"

"Billy, Eric's shorter," the agent replies but Hunter is already looking up at the arriving quinjet and guy in a jet pack. "Well this place didn't get less weird," he says heading towards Bobbi nodding to Romanov as he passes. "Well when I served in England, the janitorial division were the guys who screwed up at something else, so no wonder the place's in shambles," he say before greeting Barton and Drew. "Welcome back, sort of feels like the first day back to school, doesn't it?"

Michael Erickson has posed:
    And of course, there is Michael - the so-called 'Red Sentinel' who has since apparently announced himself to be a member of the alien species so recently having parked warships in orbit. You know, almost blew up the moon. But recent events have given him clearance - especially having killed a lot of his own people trying to kill the Xavier kids - and so here he is, lanyard around his neck as he enters the foyer, his frowning face emblazoned there with 'ERICKSON, MICHAEL' and in much larger letters the word 'VISITOR'. Temp badge, yes. Appropriate.

    He enters in jeans and Henley and cafe racer jacket, lingering by the doorway. Quiet, looking across the way at the other people here. Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. People he's supposed to be assisting now. Twenty year career of superheroism as a mask for forty-five years of alien espionage. Clearly they are /not/ going to accept him. But that's how it is. He can't blame anyone if they rankle.

Clifford Secord has posed:
     "I admit when I heard the good news I rushed over as soon as I could." Secord offers with a bright smile as he takes off his helmet, stuffing it under one arm. His hair is somehow still perfectly split into place in spite of that high octane flight of his through the air over the Triskelion those bright eyes of his filled with youth and life in spite of his age.

     He gives a flash of pearly whites as he looks about. "So, you need me on mop duty?" He offers only half joking if that a level of genuineness to his offer as he looks about the place ready to get down to business and make the place sparkle. "Spent my fair share back in the day cleaning up messes, though usually I made them."

Bobbi Morse has posed:
    Bobbi smiles as Clint approaches. She dips her hand in to a pocket and pulls out her SHIELD badge in leather fold-over. "It sure is.. and it feels extra good to be able to bring this out in public again." She flicks it open and closed, good times, then slips it back in to her pocket.

    Shaking her head to Clint, "Not yet. They probably itemised everything we had in our rooms. I can just imagine them itemising every single cup in the cafeteria too." She huffs a little. Such an invasion of their privacy - ironic considering they're the spies who invade everyone elses privacy.

    "Agent Secord I'm sure the level 2's will appreciate you pitching in. Agent Drew. Nope not yet, not until we've secured the premises." An agent walks by the group with a scanner lifting it up and around looking for signals. "You know what gets me? after The Playground... all this sppaaaaace." She holds out her arms to indicate personal space. A grin though. "We have room to move again."

    And then she sees Lance. "You finally made it. I lost you over Salem," she says with a small smirk, then approaches and wraps her arms about her husband. A small kiss. "I checked, they took your TV with them when they bugged out. Tent and all. We'll have to move the one we bought for The Playground to our house."

Sara Pezzini has posed:
Nothing like arriving in style. Sara climbed out of Cael's car, far better than her motorcycle. Wearing a nice suit, she is finally able to proudly display her lanyard and carry her SHIELD badge, both of which will be shown when needed.

"You get used to the weird," she comments to her companion and basically partner.

Reaching the doors and spotting the identical agents, even she has to look back and forth between them a few times, after showing her ID.

"Okay," she says with a blink of her eyes. "I was wrong, you never get used to it, you just accept it."

Darcy Lewis has posed:
"Honestly, if you've seen one clandestine operations facility operating on the edge of legality, you've seen them all..." Darcy jokes back at Bobbi as she's welcomed. She refuses to be enthusiastic about this spy stuff. "Butttttt my office here is a little bigger, so...." She'll take it. Priorities! After that, it's back to leading along her captive airman with her luggage. "This way, muscley-arms!"

Maybe she can set the record for the first sexual harassment complaint to HR since they've moved back!

While she probably needs a few minutes to handle all that junk before attending whatever sort of socializing this return might include, she can't help but pause as she makes note one of one thing as she's going. She stops, again re-adjusts her carboard box to free an arm, and uses it to jab a finger in the distant direction of the Michael. Because she's seen the memos! "Hey you. Alien dude, right? I'm going to schedule an apointment to poke and prod you a bunch. Got some real Area-51 stuff planned." A pause to let it sound spooky, before she grins. "Don't worry, alien autopsies are another department. But I wanna take some readings."

Cael Becker has posed:
    "I mean, acceptance I've got. I am //full// of acceptance," Cael remarks, flashing Sara a smile, before giving Bobbi a nod. "Agent... Morse, wasn't it?" she asks for confirmation. Clint was also a familiar face, and gets a nod as well.
    "Well. Since I don't know this place - you folks feel free to tell me where I'm needed. Scanning for bugs, cleaning up messes... Whatever gets the job done."
    A new, updated lanyard is accepted and studied with bemusement, as she looks from the Koenig that handed it to her - to the two at the door, and back to Sara again, silently asking, 'Seriously? //Three// of them?'

Clifford Secord has posed:
     Secord nods his head. "I think it'll do me some good." He says with a lighthearted smile as he walks over to the nearest free broom and gets to work pushing along to help clean the place up to a bit of a shine.

     It's perhaps a bit surprising how well the flyboy adjusts to just cleaning the place up as he sets his helmet down to one side pitching in any way that he can with a light whistle on his lips and a spring in his step. The man's working hard for someone who until very recently was just a retiree. "Blue moon, you saw me standing alone."

     He sings to himself as he pushes along the broom moving about the dirt into big old piles for one of the level 2 agents to collect and dump in the bin. Working with speed and efficiency is something that his 30 years in the army air corp taught him the hard way during WWII and Korea, and he's showing it off in spades in just making that floor spotless.

Sara Pezzini has posed:
Accepting the new lanyard, Sara happily puts it on. The last time she was in this building was literally the day before the shit hit the fan. She had /just/ become a part of SHIELD and was preparing for a nice career of beating up bad guys... oh what changes a day makes.

Now that she was back she realizes that the military really, really sucked. "I can help out where ever needed Agent Morse," she offers. "You name it, I'll do it."

Stepping back over by Cael, she leans closer to hear what she says then replies quietly, "Three that we know of... this is SHEILD, there could an entire closet full of them around here."

Jessica Drew has posed:
"Yes, first day of school," Drew agrees with a nodded grin.

Boxes deposited in a corner with Agent Drew written in large legible letters, Jess looks around for Erickson, finding him near the doorway. By far the newest on the block despite his rich history of crime fighting, he will have to stick by her side until he receives a sufficient security clearance to wander in designated areas by himself.

"Stick with me, Cal'hatar. How are you going to introduce yourself to people? Give me a moment." She holds up a finger before walking away.

Jess joins Commander Morse, looking away with a smile at her reunion with Lance, "Commander, would there be more bug sweeping apparatus available to speed things along?"

Michael Erickson has posed:
    First day of school, indeed. Michael nods to Jessica, stepping off into an oddly military post just off her side, wingman and guard alike as he follows her. When Darcy swings by and points at him and calls, he jerks his chin her way and offers her a wide, winning smile. "No tentacles or extraneous oddities, I'm afraid," he calls back, "But I've got first-aid manuals and my own knowledge I can offer, too. Not a doctor, though. Just a soldier."

    And speaking of soldiers...there's Bobbi. "Ah. Commander." He gives the woman a salute - a rather Romanesque one, fist claped crisply over his chest. "Hello. Thank you for having me." He has no doubt that she knows who he is, considering, you know, /the memos/.

Clint Barton has posed:
    A shrug answers Bobbi's statement about the rest of the place, and he answers with "Yeah, well, you kind of have to expect it. How many places have we packed up and brought back here to pick over in excruciating detail? At least I really don't keep a hell of a lot of personal stuff in my office here. If they want my receipts for expense reports, they're welcome to them."

    He takes up a position near Bobbi where he can both watch people arriving and talk to his new boss at the same time. "So, have you checked out your office yet, or just decided to stick here for a bit?" As Michael comes over and gives a rather non-standard salute, one brow raises a bit, but he doesn't say anything about it. Could be he missed that memo in the packet of paperwork sitting on his desk in the Playground. He's never been a fan of paperwork to begin with.

Bobbi Morse has posed:
    Bobbi waves to Sara, "Agent Pezzini. I saw footage of you on the streets at Park ave. Nice work. Well, your speciality is hopefully not needed today, but general arraying of disarray is always appreciated." A nod to Becker, "That's me." A small smile. She peers over at Erickson, someone she's not familiar with. Darcy seems to be though, so no concern there. The odd salute has her raising an eyebrow, "Welcome.." She spies his lanyard, "Mr. Erickson." She replies to Jess, "Check with Agent Khan, I think he has several boxes full of them."

    To Clint, "Not yet, I left some whiskey in my safe. Odds are it's still there. Want some?" She turns on her heels and heads toward the elevator to take her up to ops where her office is. The ride up requires using her new lanyard and the scene in ops is a bit of a mess. Folders and papers everywhere. Tables re-arranged. All the doors left open.

    It had come to her attention recently how little paperwork Clint does. She chose her 2IC well - Gonzales used to do the same for her. She could go out and be the big damn spy hero and he's handle the paperwork. Seems only fitting she pass that privilege on to Barton.

    Bobbi heads to her office and uses her hand to open up a panel in the wall and inside she retrieves the bottle of whiskey. Shutting it, she heads back out and finds some coffee mugs in the small ops kitchen. "Whose in? Lance? Clint? Jess? anyone else?" She starts pouring. She lifts up a mug and says, "To being home" Then takes a sip.

Lance Hunter has posed:
Hunter returns that brief kiss. "Well someone still had to go around obstacles, not over them," he grouses good naturedly to his wife before nodding about the space. "The space is nice, but the cafeteria's what I'm glad about, and the lounge, wonder if any of the air force boys beat Coulson's score on Pac Man," he muses, checking out the other arrivals. "Michael, right?" he says holding out a hand to their alien ally. "Lance Hunter, welcome to the Triskelion and well, Earth."

When cups are handed out and takes one. "To being home /and/ not getting locked up," he adds that last with a wry smile.

Jessica Drew has posed:
Bug sweeping be damned when there is whiskey at hand. Especially whiskey dispensed by one of your bosses. Jessica nods towards the boxes in the corner, "Grab a cup, Michael from my box. Bring two."

She reserves a smile at Hunter's greeting to the new consultant but it's a good omen.

"To being home," she echoes.

Darcy Lewis has posed:
"What? Ugh, no, gross." Darcy makes a face. "I'm not interested in your biology, tentacle-free or otherwise. Like I said, vivisection is a whole 'nother department." At least until they pay for her to go back to school and tack on a medical degree, as folks keep threatening! "I'm a physicist. You're going to debrief me on your people's warp-gate technology," which she apparently knows is at least a thing, "and I'm going to scan you very thoroughly for ambient radiation. Your gear too." All of this is a very matter-of-fact way that suggests it's not exactly a request.

In fact, she looks over at Bobbi. "What's protocol if he resists? Do we shoot him?"

But... presumably the memos cover his degree of cooperation, so this is more of Darcy just being Darcy. She hasn't gotten to taser an extraterrestrial being in years, let her have a little fun! And when she's done teasing an alien, it's back to handling her boxes of crap. "OK, time to drop this junk off. Back in a jiff." Thus she vanishes with her tagalong, wandering off through whatever maze of elevators and cooridoors actually lead back to the research division and her office.

Natasha Romanoff has posed:
    Unusually, Natasha looks a bit impatient as she stares down at her lanyard while everyone speaks. Finally she simply says "Excuse me." before striding away in a bit of a hurry.

    Her first stop is her quarters, and she pauses in the doorway as she's greeted with a mess as callous and thorough as she was expecting. That draws little reaction from her, though; most of this stuff is replaceable.

    She moves inside, and her eyes scan over the room, her heart sinking with every observation.

    1: Portrait moved side.
    2: Key missing, key hole exposed.
    3: Panel next to the key hole is opened.
    4: Panel reads <Voice authorization identified.
    5: The panel THAT opens under the bed is exposed, as the bed has been moved aside, and presumably they gave up on the password demanded from the console inside, as there are scorch marks around it, opening a cavity with...
    6: Nothing inside.

    Natasha begins to dig through the mess, starting simple, but gradually turning her room upside down in increasing urgency, before suddenly her eyes settle on a simple wooden box, leaning upside down and at an angle between two bits of furniture.

    She picks it up, turns it upright, gently places it on a table... and opens it.

Inside, a little pink wooden ballerina spins slowly, the paint fading and slightly chipped. A music box plays a hauntingly nostalgic little melody... and Natasha holds her breath for almost a full minute.

    Natasha lets out a long slow breath, and slowly closes the box shut.

    Natasha... needs to sit down for a while.

Cael Becker has posed:
    At least three indeed. Cael grins at Sara in amusement, her gaze then flicking over each of the others present. Most she's seen somewhere before. Lance had been there when they went in to free the Inhumans. Darcy she'd kept safe from... fish people. Romanoff she knew, of course, though she'd only met her the once in passing. Jessica, Clifford, and Michael, though - those three she studies more in detail.
    Nope. She's got nothing.
    "Is that offer of whiskey open to everyone?" Cael asks in bemusement - before Bobbi reappears with the bottle to make it clear that - yes, indeed, it was. "I wouldn't mind a taste."

Michael Erickson has posed:
    "I don't know anything about the technology," Michael calls back to Darcy, a hint of apology in his tone. "Like I said, I'm a soldier, not a doctor. Or a scientist, as it is." As she vanishes, and Bobbi makes her brief hellos and goes off to toast, Michael takes Lance's hand and gives it a shake.

    "Appreciated," he says to Lance, nodding once. "Official welcome's nice. I've been squatting on your territory since the Seventies." A wink - yes! - and the usually stony man withdraws his hand, going off to find the glasses requested by his dark-haired taskmaster. "Work, work, work," he says in a good-natured rumble, and soon has a pair of cups which he hands over to Jessica. "There you are."

Clifford Secord has posed:
     When Clif hears mention of anyone else he's in on toast. He makes his way back over to the group setting his broom down beside his helmet as he picks up a mug. He gives a light toast of the mug into the air. "And how good it is to have you all home." He adds rising his glass to the good vibrations.

     "Special Agent Clifford Secord by the way" He introduces himself finally. "California Division, formerly retired"

Sara Pezzini has posed:
Sara chuckles at Cael's comment, but then there's Bobbi with the bottle and maybe there is a chance of whiskey. She never had an office in this building, or a department, there wasn't a chance for that, so for now she'll sort of linger with the boss.

"We have any paper cups around here that haven't been contaminated by the military?" She asks, a nonchalant way of attempting to get in on some of the whiskey herself. She hadn't had a drink in a while, thanks to her special internal guest, and whiskey was her preferred drink.

Bobbi Morse has posed:
    Bobbi pauses as Darcy asks if she can shoot Michael. She looks back to the man that Lance is shaking hands with and hmms softly, "She's joking, of course." Still, seems Darcy has a grocery list of questions for the man. "I think Agent Lewis might keep you occupied for a while."

    Passing a cup to Cael too and everyone else who asks for one. She leans up against a wall and sips the whiskey as people move about all business and purpose. "If the army boys stole the Pac Man machine, Coulson is going to be livid."

    "Check the kitchen Pezzini," is he reply to the request for a noncontaminated paper cup. She ponders for a moment and says, "Secord, tell us what it was like to work with Chief Sousa back in the day." Because she knows what Daniel is like in this day and age, but context is king.

Clint Barton has posed:
    Clint nods to Bobbi's offer of a drink and follows her to the elevator, "Seems like a good plan to me. A drink will probably make the disarray we're going to spend weeks straightening up a little easier to prepare for." Once they get off the elevator he looks around as they pass tables and desks covered with folders and papers. "Looks like this is where they we going through the paperwork. I hate to think of all the highly secret Starbucks receipts they found in mine. I'm sure my preference in caffeinated drinks would be of amazing help to them."

    Finding a clean mug on one of the desks, he offers it to Bobbi for a shot of the aforementioned alcohol, then raises his much when she makes her toast, just saying, "Home" before taking a sip.

Darcy Lewis has posed:
Quickly enough, having dropped her stuff off , Darcy makes her way back. Captain McStudly is gone, hopefully back to his quinjet, and not tied up somewhere. But she heard something about someone breaking out the good stuff.

And like any good scientist, on having heard that there was a shortage of drinkingwear, she arrives carrying a box of glass beakers, nabbed on her way back from the next lab over. You'd be surprised at how often scientists drink out of those things. A whole lot of alcohol filtration experiments. Coffee too. (OK, no one should actually be surprised by this.)

"Figured you might need some backup," she declares, and holds one out for herself.

Cael Becker has posed:
    "Home, huh?" Cael echoes thoughtfully, swirling the alcohol in the glass she was offered, before taking a sip of the contents. 'Home' was a sensation she wasn't well used to in her life - and honestly, she wouldn't be surprised if there were others in the room that felt that way. Still, maybe this place could become some sort of 'home' someday. "To being home it is," she agrees.
    She looks to Sara curiously before asking, "How well do you know this place? Where should we pitch in?"

Lance Hunter has posed:
Lance shakes Michael's hand firmly. "The seventies huh?" he says sounding surprised and impressed. "Since I was born in '86 I guess it should be you welcoming me to Earth, still, good to have you around, mate," he says cordially before taking another sip of his drink.

"They better not steal it, though since they did take my TV I assume operation moustache cam is still a go?" he asks Bobbi. "Even if Talbot is on our side now."

Sara Pezzini has posed:
Sara accepts the cup with the alcohol, at first swirling it and smelling it.

"I have no idea where anything is in this building," she admits bluntly. "I literally have only been here twice, once to meet Agent May and the second time to accept my badge."

Lifting her glass in the toast, she offers a nod and smile. Home was where you made it, and she was glad to be part of the team that would help make this place home for people again.

"There's a lot of work to go around Cael," she then says. "I'm sure we'll both be worked until we pass out, or maybe we'll drink until we pass out, wake up and then clean until we pass out."

Michael Erickson has posed:
    "It's appreciated," Michael reaffirms Lance's way, giving the man a nod before settling back into being a wall decoration, leaning there quietly. Lots to observe. Certainly this is a crew he has no experience, and no right to speak up to whatever victory they've recently scored.

Clifford Secord has posed:
     "Nothing but respect for Chief Sosa, man was dedicated and fiercely determined, and it was a pleasure working with him." He takes a drink from the glass before setting back down the empty mug that just reads 'Hang in there' with a little picture of a cat hanging onto a treebranch. "He knew what needed to be done and wasn't willing to compromise, and that's something that's always been in short supply."

     Clif runs his leather clad gloved finger around the rim of the mug setting himself up onto the side of a nearby table so that he can keep his boots off the ground for a moment. "Not going to fawn over the man but at the time his loss took a massive chunk of what made SHIELD great out of itself, we were all better for having him around."

     "And if anyone tells him I was blowing my wig over him I'll be severely dissapointed." He waggles a single finger about the room.

Clint Barton has posed:
    Seeing Bobbi going a little introspective after making her toast, Clint lets her have her thoughts for the moment and instead turns to Cael and Sara, "You'll probably be assigned offices on this level somewhere. Cafeteria is down on two, we'll probably do an orientation for you newer folks who don't know the place now that we're back."

    "Honestly, the place can be a bit of a maze, but it's also got some nice stuff hidden away. It's pretty nuts, really. It's not quite the Pentagon, but almost as confusing. Which is partly by design, as it makes it hard for anyone breaking past security to find things."

Lance Hunter has posed:
Lance gives a final nod to Michael before picking up on Sara and Jess' conversation, coming in after Clint to say, "Probably good to grab quarters now too before folks start moving in, best ones are by the cafeteria," he advises before looking to Clint as Bobbi focuses inward. "What should we start cleaning up? The papers, sweep the offices for bugs? Or just sit back and enjoy a drink before we dive into all of that," he says sitting on the edge of the pedestal for the giant SHIELD logo in the lobby. Easy to guess where his heart lies as far as what to do.

He takes a deep pull from his cup.

Looking up at Cliff's recollection, "You another one from the past then?" he asks catching up./

Cael Becker has posed:
    "Makes sense," Cael replies in response to Clint - a wry smile on her lips as she adds, "But seeing as that likely won't be happening until after the place is tidied up - feel free to point us newbs inthe direction of where we can do the most good. I'm not too proud to sweep for bugs - or, you know, to sweep. Or take out the trash." After all, they probably couldn't risk bringing in people who //don't// have the right clearance to clean up the mess - so that meant doing work that might normall be 'beneath' you.
    When needs must...

Darcy Lewis has posed:
Like Sara or a couple others, Darcy doesn't have the deep attachment to this place that some of the SHIELD veterans do. She's not new to the job, but she's also not a hardcore, life-long intelligence professional. She has a day job, a home that isn't here (even if it's an apartment she pays too much rent for!), and a life outside the agency. But, as previously established, they DID give her a pretty sweet office here!

"Yeah it's kind of a weird place but it's not bad once you're used to it. And they've got a lot of cool stuff here. Well." She has to pause and reconsider. "I suppose they HAD a lot of cool stuff here. Haven't really gotten to do a full inventory on everything either." Soon enough, she's sipping hard liquor out of a Erlenmeyer flask. Hipster friends with mason jars eat your hearts out! And finally, there's all this talk of bugs.

"I'm sure you've got specialized gear for it, but if you want to save the fine toothed comb bit, I could probably rig something up. Scan for ambient EM, even rig us up an EMP..." That is /probably/ overkill. "What?!"

John Stewart has posed:
It's around this time that a hybrid motorcycle can be heard outside, coming up towards the entry. A black man in full biker getup (black jacket and pants with black combat boots) comes into the parking lot, parking with a practiced motion. His wrap-around sunglasses are adjusted slightly before he gets off the seat, locks the bike, and puts his hands in his pockets as he walks right up to the security in front.

"Hello. Names John Stewart. I'd like to speak to someone in charge, if you don't mind." John smiles with a hint of amusement as he looks over the security out front, and stands there, waiting to be addressed.

Clifford Secord has posed:
     "Only travel through time I've done is the slow way," Clif offers, looking back over towards Lance as he takes care with his gloves not to activate the small rocket propulsion pack meticulously latched to his back with several large leather straps. "Just look good for my age."

     He takes back hold of the glass taking another sip of the small contents of whisky that he's nursing very gingerly to enjoy every moment. "Sometimes in this world you wake up one day and realize everyone around you's getting older and you're just staying the same." He pauses as he swirls the barely worth noting level of whiskey left at the base of his mug around smelling the contents once more. "Surprisingly enough it's not nearly as much fun as they make it out to be in the myths and legends, the whole immortality thing."

Michael Erickson has posed:
    "I find the burden is worth it if it serves a purpose." Michael speaks from the back, nodding once to Clif.

Lance Hunter has posed:
"C'mon, can't be all that bad," Lance says to Cliff and Michael. "Living forever," he says glancing between the two men. Though before he can get much further on the topic he spots John coming through the door and setting down his cup he rises to meet the man. "I'm not in charge but, one of the level 8's should be back in a tick, aand Clint here is the highest ranking in the room" he says. "Come in and join us, more the merrier," he says before taking time to introduce the man to the group by name. "What brings you to the Triskelion?"

Cael Becker has posed:
    Cael leaves the others to greet the newcomer, who she glances at curiously. Talk of immortality filters through the room, and she shakes her head in bemusement. "Com'on. We'll go find a broom somewhere," she remarks in a dry tone, directing the comment towards Sara.
    The pair disappear together - and put themselves to work, piling papers neatly back onto desks - or into boxes if they're unsure where they belong. And sweeping up a few pieces of broken crockery, and dirt from potted plants that had been unceremoniously dumped - and who knows what other detritous they'll find in need of cleaning.

Clint Barton has posed:
Not back 30 minutes and duty calls. Somehow it's not really surprising, though a few moments respite would be nice. Getting an alert of a visitor, Clint sets his glass down and heads for the lobby. Reaching the security desk, he greets John with "Hello, I'm Agent Barton. What can SHIELD help you with?"

    He looks the man over giving a quick visual scan for possible weapons, an almost automatic reflex at this point. John isn't anyone he recognizes from files, news, or anywhere else, so he simply keeps a neutral look for now and awaits a response.

John Stewart has posed:
The man has no visible weapons. Concealed weapons? His clothing is just baggy enough that he might have a concealed holster, especially under that jacket. "I heard on the news about this place being reclaimed by SHIELD. I only know a bit about your organization and I'm hoping to change that." John brings his right hand out of his pocket and offers a handshake. Clint will easily notice the fairly out of place ring on his right hand too. Very unusual; a green crystalline lattice of some kind.

"Our database gives a lot of public information. Not much on details." John glances around the foyer, taking in everyone and everything briefly, before he looks to Lance, "I just returned to Earth after a long hiatus. I'm one of the Green Lanterns assigned to this Sector... and I'd love to have a discussion on what's been happening."

Lance Hunter has posed:
Saying, soto voice to Clint,"Sorry to call you to duty mate," before standing beside the Avenger to hear what John is after. "What's happened? Which part with SHIELD, the world, or why this place looks like it does and we're sitting around day drinking?" he asks with a grin, having gotten up from where he was seated to lean against the security desk.

Clint Barton has posed:
    With a nod, Clint replies, "I've read the file on the Green Lantern we have here already, so I've got a decent idea what you mean. I'll be honest, with a problem SHIELD was dealing with and the alien invasion we just had, I haven't really been getting a lot of info on other stuff going on." He gestures around at the area they are in, which shows many signs of disarray.

    "As you can see, we're a little disorganized. Had some trouble with the government and we're just moving back in." Looking back to John, he asks, "So would you be dealing with mainly space related problems, planetary matters or some mix of the two? Who you should be talking to kind of depends on what you will be doing."

John Stewart has posed:
"I'm here for general information." John replies, those sunglasses going over everyone near him. "Possibly to offer assistance as well. I'd love to know what's going on with SHIELD, and I can offer some potential information on my end with what's been going on with the Shi'ar. The Imperium is very much a group we like to monitor, and this aggression towards Earth is... new, and troubling."

John frowns slightly, "I'm not surprised they decided to push the issue and be assholes about it. I don't have the ties that my partner does, and I don't see myself formally getting tied up with any of the organizations dealing with superhumans heavily... so I don't have anything holding me back from talking to anyone."

John looks back to CLint, "I take it cleaning up around here would be considered your priority?"

Clint Barton has posed:
    Clint looks around, then back to John, "Kind of depends on the situation. As long as everything is 'business as usual', cleaning up takes priority. If there's a terrorist attack or alien invasion, cleaning can wait. But honestly, the events I mentioned are really the main things going on right now. You'll understand that I can't really tell you that much, given you're basically a stranger asking about things that could be considered classified. Honestly, you'd get about as much info as I can give from checking a few news websites. We've all be kind of keeping our heads down lately, just cleared up the problem with the government."

    He shakes his head, "I'm sorry I don't have a lot to tell you, but there it is. I've been kind of focused on out own problems lately, as you can imagine. My sugestion would be to talk to the Justice League, since the other Green Lantern is there, they'd probably be able to give you more info than I can."

John Stewart has posed:
"My partner can deal with League business. I'm not a member of their group, and I don't plan on joining it yet. My interest is catching up on Earth affairs first. I can talk to the Guardians about the Imperium once their force is dealt with." John shrugs a bit to Clint. "I'm offering a collaberation. The Green Lanterns are a universal peacekeeping force... and despite recent history, I've been given the impression SHIELD is a planetary police agency that I'd like to hear your side of the story about."

John crosses his arms, then, raising a brow in curiosity, "I'm not expecting you to lay out any secrets, but cooperation seems like a good idea on my end."

He brings up his right hand, showing the front of the ring; the Green Lantern symbol on it easily visible, "As a token of good faith, I could scan your building for bugs. If I were in your shoes, I'd be pissed off about the military putting in eyes and ears in here."

Clint Barton has posed:
    Nodding, Clint replies "Well, the reason I suggested the League was that with a Green Lantern as a member, they can probably verify who you are a little easier. From my point of view, you're a guy wearing a green ring who wants me to give you all the info we have on global goings on. I mean, collaboration is all well and good, but I don't really have a way to verify who you are."

    With a little shrug, he continues, "At the very least I'd need to talk to my superiors to both approve you and see what info I can give you. I don't mean to brush you off, once we can verify you, we'd be more than happy to share what info we can.

John Stewart has posed:
"Oh, you need me to verify I'm who I say I am?" John nods slightly, "I just didn't want to make a fuss outside."

John steps back, and suddenly a Green Lantern uniform materializes, replacing his clothing... and the sunglasses disappear, his eyes glowing green with energy. Then, John aims his ring upwards, and a constructed sniper rifle appears in his hands, green energy emitting from the ring to fill it in. An M24, from the frame... which he holds in his right hand, "I'd be happy to construct some other things, if you need something done in here."

Clint Barton has posed:
    "Well, that does help a bit, I'll give you that much. But what it doesn't tell me is what kind of clearance my boss wants to give you based on you being basically a galactic cop. Best thing to do here would be to give them a day or two to decide how they want to treat you, then one of us can fill you in based on what clearance they give you."

    He shakes his head, You could probably be pretty helpful, but the military left stuff laying around, and any of it could be classified data. I just can't really let you in to assist until we make sure everything is put where it belongs."

John Stewart has posed:
"I have no doubt you people could get my new phone number, but I'll give it to you just to save the time." John explains as the uniform and rifle disappear, his civilian clothing returning, along with the sunglasses, and he takes out a notepad and pens down a phone number.

Tearing the sheet, he hands it to Clint, "Let me know what they decide. I'll be around for a bit. I might need to head to Oa in a week or so, but that's plenty of time."

As he finishes speaking, he nods to Clint and starts to walk out casually, "Good luck with your cleanup. By the way, calling us galactic cops is akin to calling you city police." John gives in goodbye as he heads for the doors, hands in jacket pockets.