8479/SHIELD Nacho Night

SHIELD Nacho Night
Date of Scene:	20 November 2021
Location:	Recreation Lounge: Triskelion
Synopsis:	A group of SHIELD agents converge on the recreation room for a night of nachos and margaritas and nothing really terrible happens, aside for the invention of a new form of chemical warfare. It all ends with a ghostly revelation.
Cast of Characters:	Sam Wilson, Jane Foster, Cael Becker, Clint Barton, Achilles, Gothic Lolita, Jessica Drew, Jonathan Sims, Martin Blackwood, Sara Pezzini

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Sam Wilson has posed:
    Nacho Night at SHIELD is a fairly new invention, the brainchild of a solid chunk of the less staid and serious agents. With their occupation being as dangerous as it is, blowing off steam is an incredibly important part of maintaining focus and a healthy mental outlook.

    Which, naturally, Sam supports.

    Unfortunately the nature of the work also means it's basically impossible to have a social night out anywhere, because the combination of alcohol and a bunch of SHIELD agents with impressive skills and a lot of classified knowledge knocking around their noggins... that's just asking for trouble.

    Does this have official clearance from the higher ups? Who knows. But there's a make-your-own nacho bar set up on a table, manned by cafeteria worker Jenny, she of the most excellent almond cookies. Just about every kind of nacho topping is present and accounted for, including heated containers of gooey cheese and nacho meats (and unmeats, for the vegetarians).

    More importantly?

    There are frozen margaritas. Pitchers of them. So yeah this is probably not an "official" social event, given that you have to be in-the-know to get the calendar invite. Look, they're all spies, surely they can keep a secret.

    Agent Wilson has already helped himself to a marg, kicking it off with the standard lime flavor and lots of salt on the rim of his glass. He's in casual clothes, just a red henley and jeans, and he's chatting animatedly with Jenny while showing pictures of something on his phone.

Jane Foster has posed:
Jane has a kitchen, one she actually knows how to use now or then. The chefs and cooks in the food court can probably handle the difficulties of nachos, but will they provide some fantastic variations on the standard? Maybe, maybe not. Dishes of baked corn chips scattered in oozing, delicious cheeses and handmade salsa fresca join a dish with blackened chicken, shredded cheddar and Jack, heirloom tomatoes, and scallions under picante salsa. Another option lies under veggie chili, handiwork of a king. Velvet nachos and chorizo? Done.

She fusses over a platter, laying it out with aid of one of her interns. The smallest, Brie cream and ground tomatoes with duck confit and caramelized onions, dancing over chips baked with a citrus kick.

Or, if those want it, they can brave Jane's contribution near the liquor: s'more devils. Cinnamon sugar, Mexican chocolate with a dash of heat in peppers for one dangerous dipping sauce, and molten marshmellow turn crushed graham crackers into delicious death.

"I didn't realize we would /have/ a nacho bar," she sighs softly. "The message to me was bring the nachos. Bloody R&D."

Making up for it, she dips a chip in the crackled duck and brings it to her mouth, taking a bite. The tortilla cracks so beautifully, it's a small price to pay for the wrong message. Or were it?

Cael Becker has posed:
    Cael's version of a 'uniform' rarely if ever changes - jeans, black boots, a casual shirt, and a leather jacket over the top, which usually conceals a gun or two - though surely she's not wandering around the Triskelion armed? She arrives with a bottle of El Senorio Reposado in one hand - yes, the mezcal with the worm at the bottom. Deal with it, that is apparently how she's decided to roll tonight.
    She makes her way over to where the margaritas are and- ...what's with the chocolate? Chocolate and nachos? She gives Jane's contribution a dubious look as she nudges the bottle into place. Without a word, she starts filling up a plate with chips, and topping it with melted cheese, pulled pork, beans, salsa - stopping as she reaches the concoction Jane brought. Now she speaks.
    "...the cheese is the wrong color." Yup. If it's not orange, it's not nachos.
    She doesn't have much of a culinary education.

Clint Barton has posed:
Clint Barton has been busy. There's been a great NFL season and also missions but mostly, man, those guys can really throw footballs.

But he's never too busy for nachos. He's brought two six-packs of beer (cheap, did not realize there was margaritas) and an empty stomach.

That is why he is grabbing a bottle of beer, swiftly moving over to the nachos, creating a plate, and then approaching Sam as he's showing off pictures. "What do you got there? Pet pictures, or a series of filtered selfies, making you look like the newest Disney princess?" There's a smirk on his face, as he pops off the cap of his beer and takes a swig. Yeah, should have gone with the margaritas.

Achilles has posed:
    All for the idea of bonding behavior. It really doesn't matter what the food is, or what the event might be. If it is food, and if it involves teammates growing closer... then Angelo is all for it. He has seen all manner of bonding rituals and methods over his long life, and when he was told of this particular one, he decided to support it in his own way.

    And so he slides into the room just a bit late. Fashionably late or not... he carries a case of imported German beer over one shoulder, and has bags of chips that he bought from a mexican restaurant down the street from his house. None of this store-bought stuff will do for tonight.

    "Sorry I'm late. Did I miss anything?" he asks in that voice that is just hinted at the tiny bit of an English accent remaining. He says that, and makes his way over to where the spot to deposit donations to the F&B supplies might be dropped off.

Gothic Lolita has posed:
Gothic Lolita, ridiculous murderbot in kawaii clothing, does not need to eat. She, honestly, doesn't need anything except a recharge now and again. That said, needs aren't wants or likes. She likes to eat food, she's discovered that she really likes to drink tequila, and yes, she likes to hang out with people. Mostly to make her better at pretending to be one.

Which is why she's in the nacho line. Her tastes apparently run the gamut of 'Orders Family Hot at the Thai Restaurant' given the horrific amalgamation of peppers and hot sauces coating the rest of the fixings on her plate. Her red plastic cup of margarita is ... pretty full. These two things, while worthy of head shaking, are not really too shocking. What is shocking is that, instead of a frilly, poofy dress, she's wearing pants.

Leggings, to be specific. And a baggy grey, SHIELD t-shirt, topped off with plain white sneakers. She looks like she could be a college student going to class. It's weird.

She finds a place to sit where she can hear everything but not be too intrusive as she eats her tear gas-esque nachos.

Jessica Drew has posed:
Both Sam and Angelo had reminded Jessica that it was Nacho Night (hear the reverb on that?) No? Well, it is Naaaachoooo Niiiight. Angelo had even asked her what she was bringing a few times, as if that would change anything.

The paper bag she carries rattles and clinks with a bottle of Don Fulano Blanco and a huge bowl of quacamole made by the abuelita of a neighbor who has become a friend. Grinning at Angelo she unpacks the blue corn taco chips and lays them next to the other dishes adorning the table.

"Yep, those uptown organic blue chips, Angelo, we talked about. Want to open this bottle of tequila and pour me one? This is not for mixing down with juice, my friend."

Eyes wide at the selection, she gets herself a plate and starts down the table of food, impressed with the brie and duck confit. Someone knows how to fancy a party up. She sends a wave in Jane's direction and then holding the already full plate in one hand, waves at Sam.

Jane Foster has posed:
Cael's reaction earns a bright smile, bordering on a laugh from the astrophysicist. "They're dessert," explains Jane over a plate of ducky nachos. "These use graham crackers, and the chips themselves are made from baked cinnamon-sugar chips or waffle chips. We've been refining them. Don't mix them up with the meat, though they might go well with a barbequed or pulled pork."

Who wanders around the Triskelion armed? Everyone ought to be armed with a plate. If they are not, she encourages guests to help themselves with the occasional grin or nudge. "Evening, Angelo. Nothing so far." Her appreciation for everyone's favourite murder bot shows in a little one-handed wave for Gothic Lolita, and she moves to the side for the most kawaii one to lay down her options. "Gothic Lolita, good to see you. Are we going to need a vat of cream or fire suppressant foam? Those smell wonderful but intense this way." Weird, pants, but no need to judge other than with a smile. Another chip is lost to the joys of citrus heaven, though she needs to acquire herself something suitably delicious from the other dishes. Smiling at Jess, she heads over that way. "Do you need any assistance there, Ms. Drew? Perhaps demolishing one too many chips?"

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon would have brought food if he'd had a chance. He's played around some with using cumin as a lynchpin for marrying curry flavors with nachos, with layered bean dips that include hummus, fruit salsas that ought to just be called spicy fruit salad, that sort of thing. But, see there was this incident with a portal and a world of magic, and... look, it was a whole thing. So they bring rum, because they always have rum and most people are going to bring tequila. And what if some people would rather have rum, hmm? Two bottles, a normal dark spiced rum and then sliced apple rum because it's fall and that stuff is /good/.

    Well. Martin brings the rum, presumably. Jon's right arm is in a cast and sling, so his green cardigan is open over his gray t-shirt and dark blue jeans. He's rather quiet as he makes his way over to the nacho bar and starts filling up a plate--slowly, with just the one hand--with a little bit of everything because that's how he tends to work. Sample everything and then decide what he likes best.

    "Dessert nachos, but I still seem to be the only one who puts fruit and cheese on tortilla chips," he murmurs, half to himself, half to his husband who's... probably hovering.

Sam Wilson has posed:
    Jenny, who is quite a chef in her own right, is more than happy to help move things around and make room for Jane's contributions to the food spread. "These look amazing," she gushes. Her contributions to the cafeteria (beyond the almond cookies, which are so good that they deserve two consecutive mentions, yes) tend to stick more towards the Asian dishes, but there's real carnitas and steak grilled for nacho toppings, and the spice mix used didn't come out of a packet.

    Which, no shame if that's your thing, but she prides herself on her homemade spice mixes.

    And Sam is there too, after he's done showing pictures of his nephew winning his school science fair to the cafeteria worker. "Is this vegetarian? It's great," he says, of the indeed veggie chili loading down the chip he's just snarfed. Then he tips his head back and groans, "Oh my god."

    It's a hit with him, by the sound of it.

    And here comes Clint. "Nah man, my nephew AJ won first place at his science fair!" And then his fellow bird-themed agent is subjected to several pictures of a grinning young man that looks very similar to Sam himself, in front of an impressive tri-fold board detailing his experiments on water pollution in the Gulf of Mexico.

    Anyone else in range--sorry, Jane and Cael, that's both of you right away--also are forced to look at Sam's nephew standing proud with his fancy ribbon. Thankfully by the time other folks start trickling in, Sam has stowed his phone away and returned to loading up his plate with a sampling of all the goods. Gotta try a little bit of everything. That's just how you do in these sorts of situations!

    "Don't worry, we're just kicking off," Sam calls out to Angelo. That folks are showing up with extra food and alcohol earns a smile from him. The more the merrier, and maybe there will be leftovers for the cleaning staff. He tucks his half-empty cup of margarita into his elbow so that he can wave over at Jess. "You made it!" Pause. "To Naaaachoooo Niiiight!"

    He's only vaguely in the same area of the room as Gothic Lolita, but even from over here his eyes are watering from the amount of hot, spicy stuff she's piled onto her plate. He's about to comment about it--honestly, it's hard not to be impressed--when Jon walks in. And his injuries give Sam, a (now re)licensed emergency medical professional, pause.

Clint Barton has posed:
"Huh, nice job." Clint nods to Sam between swigs of beer, before finally trying those nachos as the OTHER bird-themed hero starts showing the phone to others and stashing it away after. Clint drifts away, eyes watering, and he soon discovers why.

Approaching Gothic Lolita, Clint takes a bite of his Absolutely Normal Meat And Cheese Nacho and speaks up after he swallows. "So, what exactly are on yours? Ghost peppers, Carolina reapers, bear spray?"

Cael Becker has posed:
    "Right. Dessert nachos," Cael remarks - in the dubious sort of tone that implies she might consider Jane to be dangerously insane. She nods her head towards the plate with the brie and duck confit before she clarifies, "But I meant those ones."
    Perhaps //that's// why Sam pulls her in to look at the pictures of his nephew - before she can say anything even more ridiculous about Jane's foodie choices. She studies the boy on the cellphone screen offering in response, "He looks happy. Umm- congrats on the win, I guess? You're obviously proud of the kid." She flashes Sam a brief smile, as she pushes around the food on her plate with one of her chips, before finally taking a bite. Socializing is not one of her better skills - so as more and more people converge on the food table, she tries to slip away from it, pausing only to comment to Jon, "How's the arm?"

Achilles has posed:
    Giving a wink to Jessica, Angelo selects a plate and begins filling it with a variety of chips and dips before selecting a cold local beer and moving off to find a place to sit down. For him, it's more about observing how the others interact at first. It's not exactly his style to just charge in, guns blazing so to speak.

    The idea of dessert nachos however has his brows raising. All these years and this is the first time he has -ever- heard of that combination. He's going to have to try it for sure.

Jessica Drew has posed:
Hi, GL, I can smell the spice off your plate from over here...no superpowers needed to get that. Point me to that sauce. I'm venom resistant," says the mutant spider agent as she adds a few finishing dollops to her plate.

Jess catches sight of Jon in a cast and sling, not an unremarkable thing to see among field agents, but, still, he's new, and she thought ued magic. She has to put her drink down to give him a wave, gesturing at the arm and mouthing, "You okay?"

Putting herself next to Angelo, she crunches a chip laden with confit and a dollop of sour cream. "I hope they have beds for everyone," she quips." How many bottles can we put away before the night is over and still walk?" And I thought my countrymen were drinkers," she adds with a disbelieving shake of her head.

Gothic Lolita has posed:
GL glances at Clint as he swings by. She hasn't met the Avenger before, so she immediately pulls up his personnel file for a quick info dump. It happens faster than the eye can blink. Computer brains, yo. She shifts how she's sitting so she can face Clint head on, making eye contact and speaking clearly so he can, if he needs to, read lips.

"Yes, yes, and there wasn't any bear mace up there, or I would have tried," the mecha answers pleasantly. "I am attempting to overload my taste receptors via capsaicin, but so far it is not working. I think I may be immune." She glances at Jess and shrugs. "I mixed every hot sauce and pepper variety up there together. It does not hurt, but it may kill any ... baseline humans. Maybe."

Jane Foster has posed:
More than just casual interest displays on Jane's face when Sam ropes her in to the latest science experiment. The woman runs a widely-watched podcast for science and takes the personal matter of youth in STE(A)M incredibly seriously; her social media accounts explode with ideas. For someone deeply meshed in SHIELD and Asgardian affairs, where Doctor Foster carves out the time for young educational programme outreach probably involves quantum physics. And a delighted look. "Your family must be so proud of him!" It's meant well as she looks over Sam's photographs so everyone else can run, run away. "Did he decide the topic himself? The relevance of eutrophication in the Gulf and its knock-on effects for the fishing industry, the productivity of the bayous, and local health outcomes is tremendously important. Was this at a school or district level? Might be worth bringing to wider attention, the good work they're doing."

Nacho, nacho night. Singing probably could be involved here. "The brie makes for a proper base to the citrus notes and intensity of the duck," she adds for Cael. "Or so Blackagar insists, and he knows better than I do on that." Ooh, bombshell, rolling off to another direction to detonate. The drinks hold no power over her when she's caught up socializing herself, slipping a little out of the way so others can gather food and eat. In the hubbub, losing track of how sharply her gaze goes to Jonathan's broken arm could well be easy, but not the friendly smile thrown to the newcomers with a blithe ease.

New injuries, odd source, and certain ones absolutely bleed. The fizzing commentary come silently from her wrist is what it is. <<Not the time.>> Somewhere, a celestial storm has Opinions (TM).

Martin Blackwood has posed:
    Martin is indeed hovering, he's an EMT (at least he's trained as one and does it as his cover job) so multi-tasking isn't so much a skill as a requirement for him. At the moment, he's actually making two plates. One for himself and one for his husband.

    He is dressed casually enough. Jeans, boots, a blue turtleneck and his typical black leather coat. "It's part of who you are, Jon" he chides to his husband. "And next time we won't necessarily be drawn into a mystical realm... or... it's at least not on the calendar for next month. So people can enjoy your peach and mango nachos with garam then."

    He tsks as Jon works a bit with some of the heavier dishes. "Let me..." he says helping the both of them to some of the blackened chicken.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "It's brie," Jon comments to Cael, as he grabs some of the fancy nachos himself. "And... duck confit, I think?" He raises a brow. "/French/ nachos? Well, I suppose France knows cheese, anyway, if not, you know... spice." He shrugs; he'll try it, and give feedback to the actual chef whenever he meets the guy.

    Also, he's semi-fighting with Martin over the business of making a plate.

    "It's fine. I'm fine. The arm?" This to Cael, and Sam, and Jess, and Jane, and... whoever else is peering at the injury. "It's /fine/." Except he's fumbling and taking forever so of /course/ Martin steps in to try to do it all for him. "I... bloody... Martin, that's too much chi--here. Here, I'll just..."

    He focuses for a moment and murmurs something under his breath, and it's a good thing he hasn't had anything to drink yet so he can actually /do/ this. A glowing orange hand appears in mid-air, and starts ladeling things on Jon's plate, which he holds in his good hand.

    "There, see?" He practically beams. "It's /fine/." For as long as the magic hand (mage hand?) holds out, anyway.

Clint Barton has posed:
He might not know GL, but getting to know the coworkers AT LEAST A LITTLE is probably better than not knowing who they are, Clint decides. He's not the peoplest of people, if that's even a phrase, but he knows how to fake it. Mostly.

"Right. I don't think bear spray has that much flavor, but hey, it'd probably do the overloading on most people. Why exactly are you trying to overload them, anyhow?" More drinking. He feels he'll need booze for this response, as he glances to Jess. She's gonna try it?!

Cael Becker has posed:
    Cael watches the food float onto Jon's plate with a mix of 'I can't believe this is happening' and 'Oh my God, this is my life now.'
    Which of course, is the perfect opportunity for a little mischief to occur, as some //unseen force// starts floating things onto Cael's plate as well - including some of Jane's brie nachos, and the hottest of the hot sauces on offering.
    "Well. I hope it heals up quickly, Sims," Cael offers with a brief flash of a smile, retreating further with her doctored plate. It's not until she takes a bite that she realizes what had happened.
    "Hot. HOT." Hurriedly brushing past some of the people at the table, she slaps a huge dollop of sour cream onto her plate, hurrying to get some of it into her mouth.

Gothic Lolita has posed:
"Because," GL says matter of factly. "I'm not sure I even have a limit. I have a feeling that I could, well, drink bear mace and not even notice. Though this probably tastes better," she says with a shrug.

"The perils of being an artificial lifeform."

Martin Blackwood has posed:
    Martin stops once Jon starts to use magic to serve himself. He scowls a bit but allows it. When things start to move onto Cael's plate mysteriously he opens his mouth but doesn't comment. Because he wasn't aware of the woman's tolerance (or lack thereof) for the hotest of hot spices.

    "That was... odd..." he mutters to himself more than his husband. "Is..." he frowns and lets it go. He'll discuss it with the woman later once her mouth isn't stuffed with sour cream.

    His gaze moves to the rest of the gathering and he gives a lopsided grin to Jon. "So... who do you want to mingle with first," he asks, letting the injured man lead the way. Not like he's going to let him be by himself. Not while in mother-hen mode he isn't.

Jessica Drew has posed:
Jess nudges Angelo when Sims starts to magically load his plate. "Efficient, yeah?"

A chip dipped in the atomic hot sauce makes her eyes water, she might be venom proof but some things can still make her cry.

"Whew!" The only way to deal with it is to knock back some tequila.

"Did I hear desert nachos? Did you?"

Sam Wilson has posed:
    Oh ho ho. Good luck getting Sam to do anything else tonight beyond talk with Jane about his nephew. He's a science nerd himself--ornithology, mechanical engineering, biomed stuff--but it's preening (BIRD PUN) about his family that really will get him chatting.

    "He decided it himself, he's a real smart kid. Cares a lot about the environment, and living down on the coast he's seen first-hand the impact of things like soil erosion and environmental disasters on the way of life of the people and animals in the area," he says. When Jane suggests giving his nephew's experiment results a wider audience, Sam's eyes light up. "He'd love that. He goes to the state fair next month... you know, he could really use an expert opinion on his presentation, he can make adjustments between now and then."

    Sam pauses, for a drink of margarita. It's bound to get less frozen and more slushy if he keeps ignoring it! "No pressure, but maybe you and he could chat online sometime?"

    Beyond where he's standing, something glows over the buffet table.

    "...did you just cast mage hand?"

Achilles has posed:
    Turning his head, Angelo takes a bite from his chips. He smirks a bit and shrugs, "I mean, perhaps I should just not state my personal feelings on that particular matter." he offers to Jessica. But he snaps his jaws and teeth shut on a dipped and loaded nacho chip.

    "You know, when you go for the hot sauce, and hot peppers, the acid in the peppers just makes you less able to taste the next thing you eat, right? So, if you want to enjoy the flavor of every bite, it is smarter and more efficient to avoid super hot and spicy flavors."

    "I don't even like jalapeno." he adds before he takes a gulp of his beer. "But, I get that I am strange."

Jessica Drew has posed:
"Nit-picker, so right back at you. Capsaicin fills the dopamine receptors in your brain like narcotics do. They release endorphins and dopamine into your body in a huge amount. So not only is eating hot food delicious, it's pleasurable to your body too, and you crave it more."

"It's worth an eye-watering moment." She looks out over the crowd of agents, smiling at Sam's joke to Sims about casting magic hands. "What do you think a D&D tournament would be like with this crowd?"

Jane Foster has posed:
The dessert nachos steam in their cinnamon delight, basking in the sweetness of an autumn evening. "I should've tried playing with a gourd puree. Pumpkin hit with a shot of something richer. Cumin could play with that," Jane murmurs, thoughtful and delighted when Martin and Jon put out their offerings among the gooey cheesiness and rum. Liquor still earns a second look, though greater fish to fry await getting out there into the world.

With a grin for Angelo, she waits for the reaction to the atmoic doom. Nudging Jess, she falls in beside her favourite spider. "How are you doing? You should come by for dinner at some point and spare me having to stress over decorating." The offer made with an easy candor, she pops another cheese-laden chip along with guacamole into her mouth, creamy greenness melting into the hot pop of spiced meat. Does bear spray have a flavour? The question might turn her head as she flashes a smile in Gothic Lolita and Clint, ensuring the two of them haven't spontaneously combusted. Here, you never know.

Her sunny smile turns back to Sam, who she pays close kid to. "The environmental disasters around the low-lying structures in the Gulf are a worry, and rising water levels won't help. Showing that teenagers take an active interest in the issue and in the solutions deserves a higher profile. Too often we assume it takes experts experimenting in the background to derive an answer for these problems, but the group-generated ideas coming from literally anywhere in the public could open doors we've not considered. You can pass on my phone number to him and his parents." Hesitation only for a second. "I'd be glad to give some recommendations, though he's got it put together. I am likely only to be a rubber stamp."

Achilles has posed:
    "I think -someone- would play a bard and impregnate two thirds of the world." suggests Angelo. "And for me, it's not about dopamine. It's literally about being able to taste my food after that first bite. I'll stick with mild so every bite has flavor. That way, I don't eat like a Billy Goat."

    "Me? I'd play like a Gnome Rogue just to run away every time someone showed me a sword."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    There are a /lot/ of people here, including one almost nobody else can see--Jon stares at a spot just next to Cael with a raised eyebrow for a moment--and Jon's not the one who... knows people. He eyes Martin for a moment and murmurs, "This is payback for the citrine portal, isn't it? I said I was sorry." He also said it was likely to happen again, so not that that does much good. "Get us drinks, please?"

    The orange hand disappears and Jon says, "Yes. Yes, it was mage hand." He looks embarrassed, actually, at being called out for it, and moreso as Jess and Angelo start talking about D&D. He just goes to sit down, /really/ unsure about where the heck to actually... mingle.

Cael Becker has posed:
    It takes a few scoops of the sour cream before the fire in Cael's mouth is under control. Muttering under her breath, in response to laughter no one else is hearing, "Not funny."
    ...okay. It might be a little funny. God, she gets to look forward to this shit for the rest of her life, doesn't she?
    Studying her plate for signs of the super spicy hot sauce, she starts to cautiously eat around the problem - with something approaching success. She doesn't manage to get quite as devestating a mouthful when she's cautious, at least, and it helps when the spice isn't completely unexpected - and like Jonathan, she seems content to retreat to the edges of the room, taking up a position not far from him as she eats.

Sam Wilson has posed:
    Sam manages to pull himself away from his gushing praise of his nephew. There's a cooler tucked next to the buffet table, and he cracks it open. Out from said cooler comes a few of the school lunch style mini milk cartons. The first, he hustles to get into Cael's hands. Getting the other one over to Jess takes a bit more time, since she doesn't seem to be in outright physical pain in the same way.

    The other cartons get scattered around, awaiting a desperate agent who might need them.

    "I appreciate it. I'll let my sister know, we'll figure out a good time for you two to talk. Mostly he just needs someone with a strong scientific background to give it all a critical look-over. His teachers were the judges but at state they're going to bring in several university professors. Big leagues, and all."

    Another glance is cast Jon and Martin's way, but Sam isn't the type to mother hen. Instead, he approaches Gothic Lolita and Clint, with another milk carton in hand. "I'd offer you one of these but it seems like that might be counterproductive to whatever you're trying to do over here." He blinks rapidly, because the invisible cloud of spiciness from GL's plate is making his eyeballs sweat.

    No. He's not crying. His eyeballs are sweating. There is a difference! Mostly in that Sam is all smiles still, despite the physical pain being inflicted upon him by being in range of the chemical weapon GL has created on her plate. "How are you just standing here?" he asks Clint, bewildered.

Jessica Drew has posed:
Returning the nudge with a grin to her fave scientist, "Are you the dessert nachos, Jane? I want to try one. Let me get you over for a meal at my house, too. Though I'm sure you're the better cook. I would love to have dinner with you." Her grin broadens, "How do you know I wouldn't be the worst houseguest and pick on your decorating abilities then hang from the ceiling?" She holds up a wrist.

Blinking at Angelo, "Think you may have mixed the Olympians up with the Agents, Angelo." Lowering her voice, she asks with a conspiratorial smile, "Who someone?" Then after a thoughtful pause, "I wonder who I'd play.

After Jane's comment about the environment to Sam, she asks, "Who would you play if we did a D&D tournament here, Jane? Sam?"

Martin Blackwood has posed:
    Martin gives Jon a look of worry and shakes his head before going to get drinks for them both. Returning he offers a glass of rum for Jon and sips his own Margarita. "It's not payback..." he mutters to the man and takes a seat.

    "Getting to know your co-workers is part of any occupation that isn't in the private sector" he says. He notices Cael and smiles to her. "Glad to see you managed to cool your mouth off Agent Becker." Yes, he's going to be formal with the woman because he doesn't know if she's okay with informality yet.

    "How long has this... issue of yours... been going on?" he asks. He's assuming she's been cursed, by his tone.

Gothic Lolita has posed:
"Agent Barton is quite mighty to withstand this miasma," GoLo intones in Sam's direction before shoveling another blasphemously hot chip into her mouth. She does not die. She does slug some of that marg though. Not for relief, but because tequila is delicious.

Achilles has posed:
    Nodding his head to Jessica, Angelo smirks, "You may be right. I think that my outlook on games like that has been permanently warped by my distant relatives. But, excuse me a moment please."

    Okay, time to play peacemaker. Angelo gives Jessica one more smile before he stands up and turns to approach Jonathan Sims. He holds out a hand and says, "Forgive me. I have been told that my best three skills in life are bad jokes, overkill, and bad jokes. I hope you didn't take offense to my tasteless commentary."

    "Name's Tampambulos. It's a total mouthful, so let's just go with Angelo. Can I grab you a drink of some sort? Maybe drag you.." He glances to Cael, "Both of you, over to sit near other folks rather than total avoidance?"

Sara Pezzini has posed:
Better late than never, Sara wonders into the room. After the day she's had, she could use something strong to drink, but she decided nachos and SHIELD agents are the better choice. Her dress is her usual variety, a beige turtle neck with her black leather jacket, a pair of newer jeans and her boots.

Pausing to grab something to drink, anything, soda, coffee, whatever she can, she makes her way toward Cael.

Clint Barton has posed:
Clint has just been standing here, eating nachos, somehow surviving. When Sam asks how...

"Oh, I'm crying on the inside, Sam." He says, straight-faced. His eyes are a little red. "Just trying to enjoy the atmosphere. I'm going to credit it on the next poison gas training exercise."

Jane Foster has posed:
"When it comes to the wealth of knowledge we have here, is it really fair? You might have someone in R&D who literally invented a sanitation filtration system for wells using sunlight, three pieces of wire, and standard-issue t-shirts turned to rags." Jane shakes her head, clearly impressed by another engineer whose name is not Fitz. Fitz's achievements are legendary, but there are more folks in SHIELD who invent amazing items. Sam can be freed from a Nobel laureate pondering reviewing a teenager's science project; no doubt putting her name in a footnote is going to really raise eyebrows. Not as much as Tony, but hey! Not like being an Avenger pays the big bucks, it pays in influence.

Good thing Sam isn't an artist.

She smiles widely at Jess, and takes the escape for what it is: good things. "I brought the dessert nachos, and I probably still have enough cinnamon sugar stuck to me to prove it. That's quite like glitter, which is banned in my house. You want to make a disaster of my kitchen, be my guest." Given the terrifying number of fancy appliances, one needs a uni course just to understand how they functions. "I watched you decorate for the birthday party down here, don't try to fool me with your skills at decorating." She wiggles her fingers lightly to banish the notion of the dextrous woman being anything less than capable with jazzing up a room. "Who would I play in D&D? The DM."

Without missing a beat, she spins her plate and finishes off the last few chips. "Otherwise, what would play against type? Mm, tiefling wizard. Drow hexadin. There, that's bound to be odd enough."

Cael Becker has posed:
    "Uhh... Issue?" Cael asks - repeating Martin's word. "I wouldn't worry about it, Agent Blackwood. Probably just someone not taking the Anti-Harrassment training seriously enough. You get enough people with super abilities in the room... friendly pranks are bound to happen. Right?" ... right.
    Certainly Jon and Sara have cause to doubt Cael's version of events as she takes another careful bite from her plate, offering Sara a smile as the woman approaches, and then looking towards Angelo. "I, uh- hey. I think we're good here. Plenty of company, yeah?" she replies, indicating Martin and Sara. In fact with five people in the space - it was starting to feel a bit crowded to Cael, who tried her best to cover for that with a friendly smile. A slightly forced friendly smile - but she's trying.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon frowns at his husband. "She's not /cursed/, Martin. She's..." He eyes Cael for a moment. Well, it's hers to tell, not his. He lowers his voice, though, and adds, "It's a magic thing." So they /both/ know, see, Martin knows magic. Sort of. Mostly.

    Then Angelo's talking to him, and he blinks at the man. "Ahh... Jonathan Sims," he offers. "I don't know if you know my husband, Martin Blackwood?" Cael, of course, can introduce herself. "I'm not certain what there is to forgive...?"

    He has his quasi-professional attitude on just now, see. Because where he's from (academia and psychiatry) mixers are quasi-professional. And literally everyone here but Cael outranks him. So.

Sara Pezzini has posed:
Sara slips up beside Cael, not right up against her or anything, but close enough she can get a vibe from her.

"Evening all," she offers, passing nods to the others. "Did I miss something entertaining?"

Achilles has posed:
    Smiling, Angelo shrugs, "Well, maybe I'll just have to forgive myself for my terrible sense of humor." he looks to Martin and inclines his head, "I think I may have bumped into you." he tells Martin. "But I have so many names and faces stuck in my head that I am likely to forget my own name some days. So either way, I hope you are all having fun, and I shall remove myself from your path." he adds with a confident nod before he turns to regard the room. He takes a slow deep breath and does his best to ease towards an exit without really drawing attention.

Jessica Drew has posed:
Though well aware of Jane's comments on the environment, she doesn't contribute. "Giant evil spider, me. If we are going go against type." Jess considers the table while Angelo talks to the new agent. If they are anything like sopapillas, I'm all for it." Then with a skeptical look, "My you are trusting if you'd let me into your kitchen! I might just bring carryout from La Grenouille - friend of mine did some security for the chef and he lays stuff on him all the time."

Martin Blackwood has posed:
"I've never had the privelage of working with Agent Tampambulos" Martin replies, getting the man's name correct without pause. Greek isn't that hard once you get a rhythm on the cadence. "But I've seen him here and there. A pleasure" he gives to the man.

    He gives looks to Jon, then Cael, then Sara. "I am trying to figure out how food mysteriously got Agent Becker's plate in a way that is "a magic thing" while not being a curse" he says to the bearer of Witchblade.

Jane Foster has posed:
Jane listens to the conversations going on around her whilst distracted by the essential need for some kind of drink. Rather than rum or wine, she sifts through the assortment to find a straight-up harmless fizzy pop that hopefully isn't flavoured like a candy. Pouring a cup, plunking in a paper straw, she is set for the moment.

"Giant evil spider and drow. Then we have an excellent partnership of danger already. We might try a pick-up game at some point," she says to Jess sidelong, fiddling with the strawy. "Le Grenouille is a new one for me. French food has my attention, though. The last time I was in Paris was far too long ago." Like, weeks even. Something to fix.

Her gaze lifts and shifts to Sara and Cael together, lingering in a friendly way. Hopefully when they aren't too busy, a friendly little wave won't go amiss.

Cael Becker has posed:
    "Our other roommate thought it was hilarious to put some extremely spicy hot sauce on my plate," Cael explains in a quiet aside to Sara. She doesn't seem willing to clarify it much more than that for poor Martin, unfortunately - at least, not in their current surroundings. "Along with these chips that are... decidedly not nachos." Nonetheless - she cautiously picks up and tries one of the chips topped with brie, and duck confit - and there's a momentary pause before she'll grudgingly admit, "Okay. Those are good. They're //not proper nachos//, but they're good."
    In fact, she eats another one of them.
    She nods to Angelo as the man extricates himself - and in doing so, manages to catch Jane's wave. But you know those awkward moments when you're not //entirely// sure if the wave is meant for you, and if you should respond or not? It's one of those, as Cael uncertainly raises one hand for a brief, subtle wave in return.
    

Sara Pezzini has posed:
Sara lifts a brow as her eyes take a quick scan around the room, which is when she spots the wave from Jane. A smile and wave is offered in return, followed by calling over, "Evening Jane." Yes, she used a first name. This was a social setting, Agent this or that wasn't required and if someone has a problem with that, they can talk to her about it.

"Seriously, hot sauce?" she states, eyes settling for a moment on nothing then back to Cael. "Could have been a lot worse."

Tucking her hands into her coat pockets she offers Jon a nod, "How are you Jon? And you, Martin?" He also gets a nod. She picked up on Martin not getting to know about certain things, and she wasn't going to say a thing about it either.

Sam Wilson has posed:
    "D&D was a safe way for me to entertain my little brother and sister when we were young. My family never bought into the whole Satanic Panic thing about it--especially since most of my campaigns revolved around mostly non-dangerous exploratory expeditions." Sam is explaining all of this with his eyes closed, because if he kept them open he'd have tears dripping down his face. "I've never actually just played a character before, I've always been the DM," he adds.

    The pain is real, and Clint is a better man than him for being able to stand it. Eventually Sam has to give up trying to tough his way through and take a few steps back.

    Then he tucks his head into the crook of his elbow so he can wipe his face off on his sleeve. It doesn't really help.

    His eyes are red too when he blinks them back open. "There's a certain subset of the human race that would pay a lot of money for whatever concoction you've just made there," he tells Gothic Lolita with a shake of his head.

    And then, to Jane: "Don't worry, Sarah wouldn't even let me help gather samples with Redwing! He's doing all the work on his own."

Jessica Drew has posed:
Wondering what was going on for Angelo who is the one of most easy going people she knows, Jess watches the agent's departure with a frown then with a questioning shrug of her shoulder, she gives him a wave. She listens to Sam and smiles at the idea of him being the DM for his brother and sister.

To Jane, "I definitely see you as DM but if you ever want to rampage across the countryside, count on me as your Spider."

After a moment's reflexion, "Excuse me, would you? We will get together for dinner, soon. The agent slips through the crowd toward the exit.

Jane Foster has posed:
Yes, Cael, Jane is waving to you and to Sara in a friendly fashion. They are far enough off in conversation that interrupting any further might be rude, and Jane isn't the kind to work her way into other discussions without justification. At least not at the moment. Long stretches of silence remain companionable for her, anyway.

Her sip of pop treats it like champagne, bubbly and full of promise, but not without its consequences. Like bubbly satisfaction of a different sort. "I don't mind DMing. Sometimes I like playing. You spend hours sitting there after setting up an atrociously complex rig, too keyed up to fall asleep, that helps pass the time. Though rampaging across the countryside, that gives us Sam and other players. It might be worth it."

She exhales and glances to the side. "Are you gentlemen eating Gothic Lolita's murder nachos going to be all right, or should I call Jemma?"

Cael Becker has posed:
    "Yeah, I supposed it could be worse," Cael agrees - sipping from the milk Sam passed her, inbetween cautious bites at her plate. Her careful efforts aren't keeping her completely clear of the hotsauce, apparently.
    "You know what - I'mma get a new plate. Give me a second," she remarks - nodding to Jon and Martin, and heading back towards the table. She dumps the one she had in the trash and starts over - and yes, she gets some of Jane's fancy brie chips. It seems the woman knew what she was doing. She also pours herself a glass of the mezcal she'd brought, and doses everything with a more //reasonable// hot sauce, before she turns back towards the group she'd been talking with.

Sam Wilson has posed:
    "I'm not even eating it!" Sam admits from where he's retreated. "I'm just... overcome by the vapors." And thusly he drops, only somewhat dramatically, into an armchair. It'd be more dramatic if he hadn't slyly refilled his margarita cup, and even though it's not the high grade tequila that some folks have brought along, it's still precious, precious cargo.

    He's at least in range, now, of Cael and Sara. "Didn't take you for a hot sauce sort, Becker." Hey, at least he doesn't call her Junior! He lifts his glass towards the two of them in a quick, sort-of mock cheers, before he takes a sip. Then, he asks, "Everything alright?"

    He doesn't ask after Jon and Martin, if only because he's just overheard Sara doing so right before he decided to himself. But he's got enough of a feel for the pair that he can sense something is going on, and Sam's not sure it revolves solely around Jon's injury.

Sara Pezzini has posed:
Sara finally looks toward the table of nacho supplies, considering if she'll get some or just stick to the beverage, then she lets her eyes wander again to a spot of nothing. She doesn't say anything, just gives a look and her eyes move back to Cael. During this process she notes Sam approaching, so she offers a nod.

"Everything's fine now I think," she offers.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon sighs. "I'm fine," he says to Sara, despite the fact that he's eating one-handed because of the cast on his arm. "I'm just... not wonderful at these... mixers." Although it's thinned out a bit, which seems to have made him relax some.

    He focuses, for the moment, on the plate of nachos and whatever drink Martin brought over.

Cael Becker has posed:
    "I like hot sauce," Cael answers. "Must have grabbed the wrong bottle by mistake, is all," she explains. "I didn't mean for it to be //that// hot." She flashes Sam a smile - like Jon, as the room slowly emptied, she was beginning to relax. Sure, she didn't know Martine well - but Jon, Sam, and Sara were all people she felt comfortable around, thankfully.
    After a bite of nachos, she starts to take a sip of her mezcal - when her hand seems to jerk slightly, splashing some of the contents out. "Oh for the love of-" she mutters under her breath.
    Lowering the glass, she juggles objects so her plate and her glass are both balanced on one hand, while she brushes the excess moisture off her clothes with her other. The 'curse' seems to be acting up again.

Sam Wilson has posed:
    Sam's eyes narrow over his cup as he takes another sip. At Cael, specifically. Also, after a moment, at Jon. But he lets the Archivist's "I'm fine" stand, for now. Because his excuse is admittedly fairly convincing on its own. Not everyone is a social butterfly like he is.

    Now. Cael, though? Something's not fine there. "So what exactly is going on with you, Becker?" he asks.

    And then, power play time. Because Sam's not going to bring up the security footage from the Avengers Mansion, not here, but he at least has enough information to make a good guess. So, despite having no mystical senses of his own, Sam looks off to the side. Once again his eyes narrow, at an empty space, but he makes a very convincing go at making it appear like he's looking at *something*.

    Or someone.

    After a glance towards Sara, Sam scoops a chip up from his plate. "Something you want to tell us, Cael?" he asks. Then, cronch crunch munch. Because it's still Nacho Night, and Sam needs to soak up some of the margarita in his stomach.

Sara Pezzini has posed:
Sara shifts her eyes to Sam as he goes fishing. She gets it, she'd do the same thing in his place, but this was not the time nor the place and apparently the man couldn't take a hint. She glances to Cael for a moment, waiting to see if she will say something or not. It's her call, but if Sam can't take the hint, maybe it was time to find a private room and rough him up... really just tell him what's going on, but the other idea amused Sara a bit.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon gives the spot next to Cael a /pointed/ look and then rolls his eyes. He glances between Cael and Sam and then Sara and then says, softly to Cael, "I think she's going to be upset if you /don't/ tell people."

    Evidently he knows what's up?

Cael Becker has posed:
    "She's over there," Cael remarks towards Sam, nodding her head off to the side a bit. She can't see Alis at the moment - but she can hear her right now. That's her only indication of where the woman is, or what she's up to. "What do you want me to say? It's... complicated, and unexpected." She takes another sip of her mezcal again, gripping the cup tightly, and keeping the sip brief - to minimize opportunities for mischief, then she starts back in on her nachoes again.
    "Showed up on the security footage like I thought, huh?" she remarks, while giving Sims a slightly put-out look - because he was right, and she hates it.
    At least Stark hadn't banned her from the Avenger's Mansionn - so they must not consider the spirit that bad of a risk? She hoped not, anyways.

Martin Blackwood has posed:
    Martin for his part has been watching and eating. At the new antics of the... thing, as well as Jon's words. He blinks. "Oh... oh my..." apparently he's managed to put it together. "That's... unfortunate." He's going to continue to play coy on the matter itself, calling someone out as being cursed is one thing. Being *haunted* however is another matter altogether. "My... condolences?" he offers Cael with a frown. He's not sure if her ghost is a positive or negative matter for her, despite the pranks the poltergeist seems intent on playing.

Sara Pezzini has posed:
This was getting very boring, the hot sauce was fun but everyone took it too seriously. Alis paced around Cael slowly, knowing she can't be seen by her sister... but all work and no play makes Alis board. Being a 'secret' after seven years of being unseen, unheard, no one knowing she was there, she decided it was time for Cael to embrace the fact that Alis was there to stay.

Slowly a chip lifts off Cael's plate and floats around, got those who can see her she, Alis merely picked it up and started walking around Cael. One full trip around her before the chip hovers up toward Cael's mouth.

At that moment, everyone present can hear a soft female voice, as if she was whispering in all their ears at once. "Here comes the choo-choo train!"

Sam Wilson has posed:
    As if he's known all along, when Cael points out where her sister's ghost actually is, Sam smoothly transitions his gaze over in that direction. "Pretty sure it's not going to get you sent packing," he assures. At least, if someone tries to use that as an excuse to do so, Sam will go to bat for Cael's sake. It's not like she chose to get haunted!

    Does anyone, really?

    "Look, I spent a lot of time in New Orleans growing up. For all the supernatural stuff I'm not sure how to handle, this is... in comparison, pretty tame. I hope she and you have had a chance to talk things through."

    And then, in what is markedly less terrifying than just about any poltergeist activity Sam can remember seeing in scary movies, a chip starts to float through the air. He's amused enough that he grins at it, shaking his head. "Look, she's got a sense of humor. Might do you some good, Junior!"

    Okay actually hearing a ghost whisper into your ear, though, that's enough to have Sam rapidly rising to his feet, half-eaten nachos and half-drank margarita in his hands. "Whoa whoa whoa!" He rolls his neck, like he's just gotten the most massive case of goosebumps (which he has) and scoots away. "Not cool! I have a personal bubble!" Not a very large one, admittedly, but it does exist!

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon actually puts his finger on his nose and then points to both Martin and Sam. "I wasn't going to say, because it's not my secret to tell, which you would /remember/ if you paid attention, Martin." Hadn't he said, the other night, that Cael was one of his patients? Eesh.

    "I think, however, embarassing Agent Becker in front of her colleagues is not the most, ahh... /helpful/ behavior," he chides the ghost, eyebrow still raised in her direction.

Cael Becker has posed:
    "Oh for the love of-" Cael reaches out to snatch the chip out of the air, muttering, "Fuck off, 'Senior.' Anyways, this is Alis. Alis, this is Blackwood, and Sa- ...Sam."
    Her eyes follow Sam, her brow furrowing. "Sam... it's cool. She wouldn't hurt anyone. She's just, uhh... A little excited to make herself known, at last. She's been lonely for a long time."
    Looking towards Martin she lets him in on the thing that everyone knows - except for him. "She's my sister. She died- well. It's coming up on eight years now. We're not really sure why she's suddenly able to, uhh... express herself. But we've got a working theory."

Sara Pezzini has posed:
Sara rolls her eyes and sighs out, "For fucks sake, Alis." Though her eyes seemed to follow the girl around Cael. "This is not the time or the place..."

She shifts her eyes to Sam. "She's not a threat Sam," is then offered. "Take Witchblade as a kind of danger sense. If Alis were going to be a problem, I'd already be in armor... that said, I've spoken to her numerous times, before she could even do... this," she gestures at the room as if that meant something.

"She's board, that's all." She finishes with.

Martin Blackwood has posed:
    Martin looks to where he assumes Alis is, floating chip and all. "I'm so sorry to hear that..." he says. "I can't imagine what it's like to be involuntarily invisible." In point of fact, he finds being invisible to be theraputic at times. "But I can understand your propensity for pranks... being in statis sounds rather boring." He glances at Cael. "Your sister, I see. That explains why she is so tied to you."

Sam Wilson has posed:
    "It's fine," Sam's quick to say. "I just can't remember the last time someone whispered in my ear. If it'd been any of you, I probably would've reacted the same way." Maybe with not *quite* the same strength, but Sam does step away to set things down on a table and scrub his hands against the back of his neck to get rid of the heebie jeebies. He's not trying to be rude, even to a ghost.

    Maybe *especially* to a ghost.

    He stands there, arms crossing over his chest, and stares off into the middle-distance for a long moment. He's thinking. And then he lifts a hand. "So, she can levitate a chip. If Alis can affect the physical world like that, you could set her up with a computer, right? Pressing a button's gotta be easier than levitation."

    Get that ghost a Netflix account!

Sara Pezzini has posed:
Alis moves away from Sam, making faces at him that only Sara and Jon can see. She was going to mockingly make butt grabby motions at him, but he's all freaked out for some reason and his hotness level dropped because of it.

Moving back over by Cael she quite literally just appears, not there... there, standing beside Cael as if she'd been there the whole time. "I can move things around, enter the wrong search things in Cael's computer, walk around, carry things," she says, her voice now a normal tone. "I can do all kind of things, but I don't get to do /anything/." She stares at Cael a moment in an accusatory way.

"I am going bonkers with boredom, I just can't take it any more." Now she looks over at Martin to add, "I am /so/ connected to Cael, you have no idea. I go where she goes, I just don't always get so bored that I want to find ways to poltergeist pick pocket the hot guys back pockets."

Cael Becker has posed:
    "The //work// computer. I said you couldn't touch the //work// computer. You're welcome to destroy me and Sara at Final Fantasy whenever you like. I can... find some broken shit for you to tinker with. You can Netflix or Youtube or whatever all you want... I just question the wisdom of showing up on the security cameras of places like the Triskelion." Or setting off all the alarms in a very secure building my stealing lost treasures.
    Cael looks her sister up and down before asking, "Where'd you put the egg?"
    Nope. She's not going to explain that comment - not yet.

Sara Pezzini has posed:
Sara folds her arms across her chest, watching Alis closely. It's not out of fear that she'll try anything, and more about trying to figure out how she can do the things she can now. There is no magical signature around the materialized ghost, so that rules out a lot of the obvious possibilities, but there are still a few million things that is could be.

"Still Alis, there is a time and a place for things," she comments. "There are people who can harm you, and that's Cael's concern."

Sam Wilson has posed:
    Look, one of Sam's... several jobs is working as a counselor at a grade school. Dealing with bored kids is basically part of the job description. He doesn't react too overtly at Alis's ghostly appearance, once she manifests. Because she's no longer in the bubble!

    The bubble is sacred. Nobody enters the bubble.

    "She's right," Sam says, nodding towards Sara. "The people and organizations we go up against often have supernatural abilities and knowledge. That, and no morals, so they wouldn't hesitate to use you against your sister if they saw the opportunity to do so."

    He shakes his head. "We can figure out ways to keep you occupied while Cael is on missions. But the job--the work that she does, it's dangerous."

Sara Pezzini has posed:
Alis looks from Cael to Sara to Sam, then back to Cael.

"Alrighty then, let me explain," she hooks her arm into Cael's carefully, no spilling chips everywhere. "I don't get a choice in the matter. I go where Cael goes, period. I don't know why or how or any of that, but there's only a certain distance from her I can get before I pop back to her... so missions or not, there I am." She smiles huge, broad, teeth showing and everything.

"However you are right, missions are important and that's why I don't interfere with them. It was a mission that did all this!" And that's when she slaps her hand over her mouth and gives Cael an apologetic look. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to say that," she looks at each of the men present, and gives her best mean teenager look as she says firmly, well as firmly as a formerly 17 year kid can, "You don't repeat that!"

Looking back to Cael she adds, "It's safe."

Sara Pezzini has posed:
Sara walks over to the table to find some form of alcohol to add to the soda she picked up, it didn't matter what it was, so long as it mixed well and then she walks back.

"That answered the question I had," she says plainly. "It's a common occurrence for spirits to be linked to an item or a person, that's how you get haunted houses. If Alis can't go far from Cael, then Cael is the someone and, there's not jack or shit we can do about it."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon... really can't say much about what he knows, about Alis or how she became manifested or their relationship or /any/ of it. All of that was revealed to him in a therapy session. So he remains quiet, eating nachos and drinking his drink.

Cael Becker has posed:
    "Thankfully - this lot was all there for that particular job," Cael remarks dryly. "...I also don't want her to end up experimented on - just some sort of lab rat." Her gaze flicks towards her sister as she adds, "You've been through enough." She doesn't want to add more to it. And what if they inadvertantly harm her? Or destroy her?
    She pokes at her nachos without much interest, before taking another sip from her mezcal instead. Not willing to let things lie just yet, apparently, she glances at her sister once more to ask, "Safe, //where//? Is it... in the walls of the apartment or something?" Because leaving something that valuable lying around is just... nuts.

Sam Wilson has posed:
    "As the Senior Agent in the room I am going to pretend I heard nothing," Sam graciously says. He rises to his feet. "This is so far out of my wheelhouse that I am basically useless, but Alis, I'll get some things together for you so that you're not so bored. Maybe there are situations where we stay close enough to the quinjet or base camp that you can stick behind and entertain yourself until Cael gets back."

    In the meantime, he is going to mosey on over to the buffet for a nacho refill. Don't mind him!

Martin Blackwood has posed:
    Martin frowns at the pair, Alis and Cael. "Is it her entire person or could something be created to work as a more portable anchor?" he asks.

    He didn't like to talk about it, but Martin's mother was a witch and worked with spirits rather judiciously. The concept of a tether wasn't unknown to him, just not something he'd ever had the need for. "I mean... it could be your blood. Or your hair or something else... something significant that could allow you both some measure of freedom..."

    He holds out his hands defensively. "And... I'm in no way an expert on ghosts, that was more my mother's thing not mine... I'm just... spitballing with what little knowledge on the subject I have."

Sara Pezzini has posed:
Alis doesn't know Martin, not at all. She trusts him only in that Cael hasn't said anything bad about him, and that's about the end of the line of trust. So he speaks to her and she slips in closer to Cael, giving him a once over with her dark eyes. The idea that someone could actually hurt her, or effect her wasn't something Alis has considered before. Seven years of nothing so it just never occurred to her.

"It's Cael," she says quietly, almost sort of hiding behind Cael then whispers. "I'm going to go hide now. Don't feel safe all of a sudden and I'm not telling you where it is."

With that, she starts walking away quickly and just disappears from sight. Sam and Martin make her nervous now, she'll explain is later... people can hurt her? Oh gods, what would happen to the egg if something happened to her?!