7987/Blood Alchemy

Blood Alchemy
Date of Scene:	26 September 2021
Location:	R and D Labs: Triskelion
Synopsis:	Visiting R&D, Michael meets with Jemma and other SHIELD folks, bargains for a blood machine to be developed, and discusses some of the odder points of Shi'ar politics.
Cast of Characters:	Michael Erickson, Clifford Secord, Jane Foster, Jessica Drew, Jemma Simmons

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Michael Erickson has posed:
    The alien spy and soldier wearing the name of Michael Erickson is not a particularly dangerous-looking fellow when walking the halls of the Triskelion; not among living gods and genetically-engineered superbeings, mutants and masterminds. Instead, he cuts a bland and anonymous figure in his gray gaberdine suit and sand-colored tie, walking the halls on the way toward the research laboratories.

    He makes it there, of course, entering the hall outside the research block. Waiting for his handler, the lady with the security credentials. He, after all, hasn't remotely the juice to go in. Besides, as far as he knows, he has an appointment.

Clifford Secord has posed:
     "Sure I might not have ever punched hitler, but I did go toe to toe with an eldrich abomination from another dimension so that has to count for something right" Clifford is in the middle of a conversation with one of the lab techs as his jetpack is looked over for regular maintenance. This was just one of those weekly things that needed done that took the experts at R&D to crack through the surface. No one outside of perhaps the late Howard Stark truly knew exactly how the darn thing worked sadly but there was always time for tinkering.

     "I'm telling you the hydra was fifteen foot tall and stunk to high heaven." He motions in front of his nose leaning on the counter as he watches the work progress his attention half on the story and half on the device. "Like walking into a fish factory no one bothered to clean out after it closed four months back."

Jane Foster has posed:
Every girl has to work sooner or later. That's true for Jane Foster on several fronts, not the least of which is her more famed career as an astrophysicist. Evening marks when she probably gets the busiest, though instruments stationed in orbit or scattered across the globe in less light-polluted places can operate independent of concerns like daylight. She carries with her an impressively dull tablet, working through data on an impressive scale at speeds that attest to a high degree of knowledge in her field. Or she's preparing to order a tea latte from the cafe downstairs and the food app wants to know which of 91 different syrups she wishes added to it. Really, that's all kinds of nonsense on par with cutting edge cosmology and quantum physics.

She certainly has the credentials to pass through, though ever security aware, she won't be holding the door open for anyone. That violates basic Agent protocols, you know? Heading into the labs with the latest batch of data to be dumped into the databases she's building for Some Purpose (TM). She wiggles ehr fingers in greeting to their resident mysterious person. "Hello!" is given freely to Michael.

Jessica Drew has posed:
Heels click in the corridor as Jessica hurries from the last meeting that went overtime to an appointment with her asset, known by his bland earth name Michael Erickson. Dressed in a black tailored suit, she doesn't stand out among the ranks of agents that traverse the Trisk corridors so they make a pair. She lifts the badge on the lanyard around her neck in greeting when and then swipes it through the reader at the lab entrance.

"Ready? What have you gotten yourself into over at Xavier's? Vampires?

Michael Erickson has posed:
    "I didn't say it was Xavier's," Michael says with a shake of his head. "Just a girl I know. Recent trouble. Looking for a way to keep her fed until such time as the affliction can be purged." He snorts. "Funny. In the empire, there's plenty of species you might call vampires. The necromantic angle's interesting, though. Rare." Shake of his head. "Interesting thing. Anyway. Lead...oh."

    And then there's Jane.

    "Hello, Doctor Foster," Michael offers to Jane as she too sweeps through security. "Nice to see you again. I take it that you're well?" He hasn't seen Cliff, of course. Shame, too. He'd very much like to know about eldrich monstrosities.

Jemma Simmons has posed:
Over in her own station, ignoring the conversation between Clifford and the lab tech, Jemma Simmons runs yet another simulation. 234th test of her vaccine for the Inhuman rage virus. Why so many? These are her friends she is trying to innoculate...and Jemma wants to get it right. Not that it needed that many tests....the last version she created seemed to be adequate. But, for Jemma, adequate is not good enough.

At least, this one seems to be 99 percent effective. Or pretty darn close to it. And...that makes Jemma rather happy. Rather happy indeed.

As per the usual, Jemma is working on multiple projects at once. The vaccine, her portable laboratory...and the transport vessel for it all. Improvements is the name of the game...and Jemma is always up for improving her designs.

Clifford Secord has posed:
     Clifford looks over towards the other station for a brief moment pausing in his story telling to get a brief glimpse at what's being worked on. It's fascinating stuff, and it's attention grabbing even if he doesn't fully understand what he's looking at right at the moment.

     Shortly his attention is taken by the newcomers, ever vigilant for the potential of a security breach even in this modern age of computers biometrics and further it never hurts to be on ones toes. He gives a firm nod towards the group of people as they make their way in now fully off topic from his lovely story of battling a 15 foot hydra.

Jessica Drew has posed:
"I just assumed it was someone from there since you are teaching there," she comments as she holds the door open for him, passing Jane and another agent, deep in conversation with a technician, "How are you doing, Jane? Fully recovered? I am. I wish I remember what I did. It was like being drunk enough to black out."

"Hello Jemma," she calls, rapping her fingers on the heavy glass that partitions the lab into sections. "We're here!"

Jane Foster has posed:
Indeed, there is Jane, looking a tad sleep deprived but not overly so. Cause for concern shouldn't be had for every agent with eyes slightly bruised from a lack of proper slumber, else the agency would have a division named NAP instead of WAND. Maybe COT.

The pause shown when Jessica appears and mentions vampires is enough to be noticeable, albeit not for long. Cocoa-brown eyes shift from Drew to Michael, and she greets both with a nod of her head. "Well enough. Work, work, work. On a Saturday no less. Why are we all here?" This very much has something to do with a plot, albeit she isn't speaking to its presence, in case it's listening. Heading in after presenting her Peggy-approved credentials is a plus, and hopefully no scanners involving more than metal are required, else things might get hairy.

"Doctor Simmons, I am ordering you tea, and that's that!" she calls, just in case. "I never had the symptoms you did, Jessica, though I am sorry about the ICER. Truly."

Michael Erickson has posed:
    Michael glances between the two women, brow arched. "Must be some interesting work parties you people throw." Then he clears his throat. "And all I'm teaching there is galactic politics, history. That sort of thing. People need to know about what's going on out there, now that they've been plunged into the middle of it."

    A smile to Jane. "I've been reading about your first contact work with the Asgardians - it's quite interesting. I suppose you would not mind if I mentioned you to Lady Sif next time we meet for tea?"

Jemma Simmons has posed:
The rapping breaks Jemma out of her revelry. The brown eyes look up from her terminal, as the head rotates to track down the source of the sound. Those same eyes light up as she spies Jessica, and the slightly confused expression vanishes, replaced with a wide smile. "Hello Jessica! A pleasure to see you up and about!"

Yes, Jemma opted for more personal. The voice of her dear friend and colleague is overheard, as Jemma offers a laugh. "Really Jane, there is no need. Though, I shall not refuse the offer." Yes, Jemma is in the lab on a Saturday night. How typical of her. But....there was a reason for it this time!

And...Jemma turns to regard Jessica's charge. "Ah, and you must be Michael. Agent Drew mentioned that you had wished to meet with me. As you might have determined already, I am Doctor Jemma Simmons." Yes...full title, this time. "how may I be of service?"

Clifford Secord has posed:
     Clifford remains silent just noting the growing crowd in the room. He makes his way over from the table with hands down in the pockets of his leather jacket. The SHIELD patch clearly visible on both shoulders as he relaxes into position. Obviously he's been somewhat out of the loop as to recent events but still is happy to see other people happy for whatever's going on.

     "Necromancy, Aliens, Gods, Atlantis, Leprechauns, Dragons," A bit of a random listing from the man who'd managed to be around to see a confirmation of actually all of that list actually existing. It's enough to make a mans head spin just with the concept.

Jessica Drew has posed:
Looking from Michael to Jemma, "Yes, your next appointment. You both seem to know each other. Michael this is one of our foremost scientists, Dr. Simmons.

Humor twinkles in her eyes when she looks at Jane. "Those suckers hurt," she says, rubbing her shoulder and pretending to be aggrieved for Jane's benefit. "I did hear that I busted Bobbi a good one." Returning to Michael' comments on vampires, she grimaces, saying, "It sounds awfully uncomfortable and dangerous for her friends. Is that what you want to talk to Jemma about? Necromancy?" She throws a glance at Clifford who seems to have caught on to the subject of their appointment.

Jane Foster has posed:
"Our work parties are indistinguishable from the off-work parties. Probably because a good number of agents would just continue from one venue to another," Jane quips. Whether this is in fact true remains a secret of Rank 3 agents or higher, something that have to be sussed out. She's not helping with that. "Suppose /I/ want to hear about galactic politics and history, when will you be doing the debriefings for that? I imagine S.W.O.R.D. would have an interest." Oh dear. Someone set forth a hook. "You would be quite welcome to mention me. If you see Lady Sif, send her my best and that she's missed."

Jemma's greeting will not be lost, though the quietly worded, "I still am sorry," to Jessica comes first. She actually looks rather regretful when it comes to causing pain to another. "Morse took it pretty well, all in all." She glances askance at Clifford and nods to him, chuckling. "Welcome to the world."

Michael Erickson has posed:
    "All the wonders of the universe," Michael says with a nod to Cliff. "Good to see you again, Agent Secord." He's about to say more when Jane speaks, and his brows arch higher. "You need only ask, Doctor Foster. I'm happy to tell you all I know. Set up an appointment and I'll be there."

    And then there's Jemma, whose deft switch between casual and formal is well noted. He nods to Jemma, then, and decides to match her formality with his own. "Cal'hatar of Chandilar, ma'am, Officer, Third Magnitude, of the Shi'ar Imperial Military Forces Intelligence Cadres." A beat. "Formerly, of course. But yes. Michael will do." A tight smile. "I've come to inquire after what technology you might have concerning blood tissue generation. Clonal, I would assume. Preferably a portable unit - the quantities need not be terribly large, just a few units at a time. I have a young friend who is currently grappling with vampirism and she does not want to harm people. So. Here I am."

Jessica Drew has posed:
"No worries," Jess replies with an airy wave of her hand to Jane, "I deserved it from what I hear." Laughing, she comments on Jane's reply, "We work hard and party hard, Michael. The doctor fixed us up and we only had mild hangovers. Thank you Doctor." She lets Michael go through his full presentation, surprise raising her eyebrows at the request for blood tissue generation.

Clifford Secord has posed:
     "And I say to myself: What a wonderful world." Secord responds right back with a bit of a smile before leaning on a nearby table for support watching the proceedings with a light hearted interest until the hammer of sorts manages to drop. He turns to a more serious expression hearing that someone is actually fighting with vampirism. Not the first time he's heard the story and likely not the last but a shame of a story all the same.

     "In the short time I spent fighting vampire," He intentionally leaves off the S from the singular time he fought a vampire in his entire life. "I wondered how that whole business worked." He shakes his head slowly from one side to the other.

Jemma Simmons has posed:
"Well, Jessica, to be quite honest, it was Bobbi that did the work. It was determined that, for at least you and the few that were affected, it was Bobbi that inadvertly passed the genetic code of the virus on. She was able to extract it via her gift. Though, the initial virus still needed tending to...and it was that which provided enough time for us to determine the source vector in the first place."

Jemma pauses, though....as she gives Michael a look. "Vampire, you say?" Seems that Jemma is always finding ways to associate with vampires. At least...this is more willing. "You are looking for a regeneratable supply. I will admit, it is a novel concept. But...a portable clonal unit? We do not have anything I could offer immediately."

A beat. Then an admission. "Well, that is not entirely true. While it is true that we do not have a portable unit that I can offer at this moment....that is not to say that we cannot develop a portable unit. But, I must ask. For this case of vampirism...is the requirement whole blood? Or would plasma suffice? I ask because, as you could imagine, one is infinitely easier to reproduce than the other."

Jessica Drew has posed:
Nothing rattles Jess concerning other Agents and their exploits. She lifts her chin and smiles faintly at Clifford when he mentions fighting a vampire (singular), remaining silent as Jemma explains the chain of infections that led to the free-for-all in the lab recently, but who seems to have it adequately in hand, preventing more.

Jane Foster has posed:
Content to listen for a short time, Jane takes a few notes off to the side. She's not ignoring the others, but the tablet did need to be plugged in before she could transfer the files from it.

Besides, Jemma has the three hundredth round of an injection to practice upon, and that will inevitably benefit from a few readings taking therein.

The inquiry about a vampire, though, brings up a soft chuckle, little more. "I would wonder what manner of vampirism this is. There appear to be multiple strains. She isn't related to Dracula, is she? This young person?"

Michael Erickson has posed:
    "You have it in one, Doctor," Michael replies with a nod to the woman. "A regeneratable supply - or, if not regeneratable outright, able to mutiply existing blood. Whole blood, I believe, as you say, Doctor, though I will get back to you on this. I am afraid that for all the weapons and security technology I have on hand, biomedical technology from home is not among them. This was meant to be a suicide mission if I were badly enough wounded that I could not recover from my wounds alone, you see."

    He glances at Jane. "No. The angle of infection is currently unknown - it could be mystical, viral, whatever. As she's walking around dead, of course, I assume a mystical root. I've never known a necromantic variant of vampirism that wasn't mystical, and very much /not/ my department in the first place."

    Then back to Jemma. "I understand the challenge. I...would appreciate it, Doctor, if you might be willing to bend your efforts in that direction. Obviously I would be willing to trade biotechnology, but all I have is what has been done to me." He looks over himself. "I've had significant biogenetic surgery and other implants applied to me to fit in better among humans, and to extend my life. I'd be willing to trade my flesh for a better life for her, dramatic as that sounds."

Jessica Drew has posed:
"This is totally outside of my operating parameters. You know a lot more about it than I do, Michael," the tone of Jess's voice evidencing surprise. "Are you asking for a regenerable supply of blood so the person doesn't need to feed off of others? Trading your flesh to make her life better does sound on the dramatic side to me. I should have briefed more on this before we came to the lab."

Jane Foster has posed:
"Regenerative blood, that's a definite value if transfusion therapy is required. We have enough people operating in places where that could be advantageous," Jane muses. She isn't quite up to saying more than that; clearance rules, and all. Or it may simply be inappropriate to divert Jemma from her research contemplating the options that might come to the fore. "Is it commonplace to have such technology at hand? I promise, we'll be having an exciting seminar or two, I think, given what you've learned."

She breaks into something of a smile at that, though it's shortlived. "I hope she is doing well given the circumstances. Heavy days for her, dealing with that." Sympathy cannot be lost for someone who is suffering so, even if she doesn't know whom.

Her dark eyes blink and she's back to the moment, breathing in and out mildly. "That's fascinating. Biogenetic surgery is... you're going to be a source of much help, I can see." She grins at Jessica.

Michael Erickson has posed:
    Michael looks to Jessica. "It's a big galaxy," he tells her. "Mine, that is. Though I apologize if I was not suitably forthcoming - it wasn't my intention. The idea of a trade came to me only now, and only if it is required." He grunts, then, running a hand through his hair. "And certainly, it might sound dramatic. I'm from a dramatic people. But she's just a kid, this girl, you know? Barely eighteen. She's scared, and she doesn't deserve the plague she's been saddled with. I'm old, Agent Drew, and recently found myself in a place where I might be able to give freely where before I had only the Empire to worry about. Where I'm from, it is the duty of the old to give so that the young may thrive."

    He looks back to Jane. "It's uncommon, but it's not unknown among some of the higher-ranking members of the aristocracy. In my case, being meant as a long-term observer of Kree operations and then more as the Empire commanded, it was advantageous to adjust me such. I believe the age factor has been slowed to a ratio of one year for every five."

Jessica Drew has posed:
"If he allows it, I, for one, would like to see him lecturing agents on the history of the Galaxy and trading more information." Fixing Michael with an intent stare, "You drop these amazing tidbits of information like your being on earth as a suicide mission being the reason you don't have regenerative therapy available to you."

She hears him out, "That is more than admirable, the old giving to the young. A lesson that we could act on more often here on Earth."

Jane Foster has posed:
"We are hardly going to blame you for failing to inform me about every last possibility you've ever heard of regarding people beyond our solar system, much less any population of sentient beings from the Magellanic Clouds, our local galaxy group, and the wider galaxy clusters beyond." For that alone, the notion causes Jane to shake her head softly and throw the dark swirl of her brown hair in motion. "Surely Agent Drew could levy a punishment if she wanted to, however. It might even be..." She trails off on that front, breaking into a laugh again, although nearly so quiet as to be practically inaudible.

"Are we a suicide mission? Were you sent here because you vexed someone or because of an obscure law? I do so wonder at that story."

A tilt of her head allows that freedom to be answered or not at all, and there's no further concern to be had there.

Michael Erickson has posed:
    "Not at all," Michael says, his brows arched high. "Taking this mission was, when I was younger, the paramount of honor. Some of my medals had medals because of it - but let us be honest, any state of sufficient size, with as wide a frontier as the Empire has, cannot expect to dispatch agents this far out and not expect a large percentage of mortality. So, while not a suicide mission in plan, it is one in effect. Certainly now that my family has been blackballed. Earth is now my home."

    He grins at Jessica then. "I am happy to tell you and yours all you want. I'm not going to share all of my technology, for reasons we've already discussed - but I will freely use it to the defense of this planet and the surrounding systems. Any arm-twisting you wish to apply will have to be purely because you want to, and given my sparkling personality, I cannot say that I would blame you to try."

Jessica Drew has posed:
"That puts you in the position of the grand master wielding technology that leaves us primitives gaping and grasping for tidbits that drop at our feet. I've said this to you before, we are the primitives worshipping like cargo cultists at the detritus left over from your battles. It's hard to swallow sometimes." She bares her teeth in a sarcastic smile, well-aware that Dr. Foster would likely handle it differently, "Thank you for not blaming me."

Jane Foster has posed:
Jane breaks into another of those quick grins, dimple forming in her cheek for a moment. "See? Illustrative after a fashion. Being dispatched so far from home must have been difficult, however, even with the technology to extend your life. Did you regret leaving your homeworld for this, or was it something that you were happy to do? It can be both, I suppose, though certainly an adventure with no guarantee of returning to Shi'ar space freely, correct?"

That gently offered, she gives her head a little shake. "Why would your family have a mark against them? I feel I've missed something there, though with my evident lack of sleep, do not presume that everything operates at full capacity." Her smile lifts again and she nods to Jessica. "We aren't a cargo cult, he is not the Duke of Edinburgh, and occasionally people like Tony Stark show up with something fit to impress even off-worlders. Don't worry."

Michael Erickson has posed:
    Michael makes a faint face, but he nods. "I understand," he replies to Jessica. "I'm sorry if I come across that way. It isn't intended. But...yes, I do understand."

    Then to Jane, he shakes his head. "I don't regret a thing. I was right to fight the Majestor's forces. I may no longer be welcome at home for betraying my oaths and my nation, but my honor and self-respect are intact."

Jessica Drew has posed:
With a glance at Michael asking permission to explain to Jane what she knows, "Honor and duty are paramount among the Shi'ar upper classes and one person behaving outside the society's mores can besmirch an entire house and their descendants from what Michael has explained to me. He has, in fact, sacrificed a lot by throwing his lot in with ours."

Jane Foster has posed:
"That's rather frightening to think that multiple errors in the past could affect those in the current generation is concerning." Jane inhales and releases that breath, and then nods. Her heavy-lidded gaze closes for a moment and then she turns to the forgotten tea latte that she ordered, delivered by a lower level flunkie kind enough to bring it up from the cafe. Thanks be to those who are kind enough to run things! Mmm.

"I'm glad to hear that you are settling in here well."

Michael Erickson has posed:
    At all this, Michael turns on a smile of amusement. "I've been here forty-five years," the man advises. "My day to day really hasn't changed - oh, my business is suffering on account of my arresting my own clients the other month, but we're getting back on a better page. And now I can, as I say, give more freely. It promises to be a good life that I can have for myself here. And if not? Well, I can always leave. Asgard, other worlds where I might be welcome." He shrugs. "But I like it here. You people are nuts. I love it."

    Jessica gets just a bit of a wink as he says this.

    "But Agent Drew is correct. Prosecuting an entire familial line has long been the way of it. Sins of one visited upon all. Good thing is that my parents have been dead for twenty years and I'm an only child, so they weren't around to suffer predations. My family lands and name are ground to dust, but honestly? I don't really care about that. It's a better thing I'm doing here. And it must be said, Agent Drew has done a wonderful job of it. I've been in intelligence all my life, after all. I have a nose for this sort of thing."

Jessica Drew has posed:
"You'd think he was the Duke of Edinburgh from the way he acts sometimes." She looks at Michael dryly, laying her finger along the side of her nose, "Thank you for that endorsement, Prince. But what have I done a wonderful job of? I hope you stay with us. What would the Asgardians want with you?" The last words said with a faint smile and a glance at Jane.

Jane Foster has posed:
Jane opts to stay quiet, for the moment, on sins of a family line. That might be a stretch, but the demands on her are not insignificant as it is, and the lack of sleep has its consequences. Certainly they aren't going to justify undertaking a critique of Shi'ar social justice and the failures therein lightly. Not the right time or place.

"A royal or married therein? I regret to inform you that a number of offworld nobility seem to have found their way here," she says with a warm laugh to Jess.

Michael Erickson has posed:
    "Being a good and merciful soul, clearly." He gestures little spirals in the air, properly hoity-toity. "And alas, I can't sound like Mike From Manhattan all the time. When we start talking about home, years of aristocratic training kicks in. Next thing you know I'll be speaking entirely in the high dialects."

    "Lady Sif and I are friends," he replies to Jane, shaking his head. "As far as I understand, I am welcome in Asgard. Assuming, of course, Lord Odin deems me worthy to transport there. But that's a different story, I suppose."

Jessica Drew has posed:
"Yes, so Michael has told me. Ka'shira is hoping to have a relationship with SHIELD, I understand from what Michael says. I've yet to meet her. We will all be drinking our tea after the manner of foreigners pretending to be British aristocrats," she remarks laying on a Southern English accent that would honor the Duke.

Jane Foster has posed:
"It would be lovely to meet them. Though on that note, I fear it's probably time for me to turn this in and make sure that my colleagues at JAXA have the information they need for an upcoming meeting we've arranged with them and the ESA, plus a few additional parties." Jane reluctantly picks up her tablet and gives a wry grin. "Timezone differences. It's lovely that you made close acquaintances with Lady Sif, enough to be welcomed there. Very few outside the Vanir and Aesir or inhabitants of the Nine Realms so favoured by the All-Father ever make it through the doors."

Michael Erickson has posed:
    "Well, I could be wrong," Michael says with a chuckle. "I'll have to check with her again, it sounds like. Be well, Doctor Foster. It's good to see you again."

    Then back to Jessica. "Well. Thank you for bringing me, Agent, truly. Dramatics aside, I think I've achieved my goal."

Jessica Drew has posed:
"Oh you're welcome, Michael. I'll be seeing you soon, I'm sure. Maybe I can wrangle an invitation to tea through one of you with the Lady Sif."