8585/Great Falls: The Aftermath

Great Falls: The Aftermath
Date of Scene:	07 November 2021
Location:	Quarantine Zone, Triskelion
Synopsis:	Jon, Cael, and Sara talk about their histories and the morality of little things like re-animating the dead and extracting people's memories for the Archive. Normal talk after a strange mission. (Also, it is agreed: Captain America is pretty hawt.)
Cast of Characters:	Jonathan Sims, Cael Becker, Sara Pezzini

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Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Twelve hours of quarantine. /Twelve hours/ of quarantine. That's a lot, even if you're sleeping most of it off. And while most of the group that went to Great Falls is doing so, a few of the team can't seem to settle. So after decon showers and SHIELD-issued slacks are handed out, a good chunk of people go to find cots to sleep on.

    Jonathan Sims is not one of those people.

    It all hit him when he realized that Agent Rzewski had somehow /fused with the quinjet/. And his first reaction wasn't horror or sympathy--it was /curiosity/. What would his Story be like, the Archivist wondered? What would it be, to merge with a jet? He wanted to know. He /needed/ to know.

    So, doubly horrific when the "wait that's really awful" hit, his horror at what happened coupled with his horror at himself and his own reactions. So he's quiet through showers and moving to a room where people can get some food and sleep while SHIELD is making sure they won't spontaneously start leaking red mist from every orifice or something.

    He finds himself a spot off away from where people are sleeping to settle down and frown at the floor. Surely he's not the only one.

Cael Becker has posed:
    Cael lingered in the shower, taking her time to make sure every inch of her was scrubbed beyond what would be reasonably expected - besides, after the strangeness they'd just been through? The hot water was soothing. No one can stay in the shower forever, though, so eventually the blonde haired agent emerges, dressed in the comfortable, SHIELD branded attire they'd been handed, and saying as an aside to her roommate, "I mean - it just doesn't make sense. I mean, first I insist magic isn't real. Then I finally start to accept that, okay, maybe magic is a thing. And then we run into something you'd think would be a slamdunk case for going," she literally points at some random point before declaring, "'Magic!' And you're telling me... It's //not// magic. I mean, really. Could this shit be any more confusing if it //tried//?"

Sara Pezzini has posed:
Sara's shower had taken longer, not because she was enjoying it, but because it was an exercise in her will over Witchblade. Eventually she managed to get herself cleaned, hair brushed out, dressed in the best SHEILD borrowed toss away attire, and walks with Cael into the room that will be home for the next twelve hours, possibly longer if the science geeks decide it.

"Cael, I don't get it either," she replies. "But I swear there's was nothing magical about any of that. Fucked up though it was, it was not magical."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "Not everything terrible and strange in the world is magical per se," Jon says in a low tone, aimed to carry to the two women coming in and try /not/ to hit the sleeping cots. He's got stage training, so he's decent at that; he doesn't wake anyone up, anyway. "Given what Dr. Foster was saying, my bet would be on something alien and some kind of... strange physics. Temporal and spatial distortions..."

    He frowns and actually looks up at them. "Are you both alright?" He's asked everyone, in that vaguely concerned doctor tone.

Cael Becker has posed:
    Cael shrugs her shoulders at that question, flashing the man a brief smile before she replies. "To be honest - I've been through worse. And- I mean, there's the shit with Rzewski to contend with," and that was some serious shit, to be certain, "but we all... made it back. In one way or another." What happened to the man's body, though? Could it be //retrieved// from somewhere?
    "It was pretty weird, though."

Sara Pezzini has posed:
Green eyes shift to Jon, where he sits on the floor. He seems concerned about them, but Sara is concerned about him. There are chairs, tables, places to relax, and he's bunched up on the floor. Walking toward him she offers a smile before stopping a short distance from him.

"I'm fine, Witchblade... is not," she offers, glancing toward Cael for a moment, then back to Jon. "We weren't properly introduced. I'm Sara Pezzini, NYPD Detective, Agent of SHIELD, and wielder of the Witchblade." And then she extends her hand to him.

"That was a shift or change in the very fabric of time and space, like some kind of wormhole."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon scrambles up to his feet, taking Sara's hand to shake it. "Jonathan Sims, the Archivist. Also MD. Psychiatrist, SHIELD recruit, servant of Thoth." He smiles. "It's a pleasure to meet you properly, Agent Pezzini."

    He looks to Cael. "It was indeed 'weird.' And I doubt it was the only incident there will be." A pause. "How's the fox?"

    Sara, at least, is probably perceptive enough to notice that the smile is a bit of a veneer for some kind of jitters. It's not quite the sort of criminal behavior detectives are meant to suss out but it's still there. Fidgety, restless.

Cael Becker has posed:
    "Don't really know," Cael answers - giving a shrug of her shoulders. "I mean - I gave him a quick scrub, and he's settled in a carrier, in a dark, quiet room. He was still unconscious - but alive, when I left him. Hopefully we can learn something useful from what happened to him - maybe track this phenomena, or stop it from happening again." She doesn't seem entirely convinced, though. It was some Weird Shit and it's going to take the science nerds some serious time to get a handle on it. "I guess if we were lucky - it was just a one-off."
    She's silent a moment before adding, "Sims here was practicing with Wilson and I the other morning." She pauses a little uncomfortably for a moment before adding, "And he's offered to talk with me about that shit that happened at the Botanical Garden. You know, professionally."
    Her eyes study Jonathan for a few moments, then her gaze sweeps idly over the room, as if she's searching for something. It's a futile gesture, she knows, but after studying the room, she directs a silent, wordless question to her roommate - wondering if the other woman would follow the meaning of the implied question.

Sara Pezzini has posed:
With the introductions complete, Sara moves toward the table with the carafe of coffee on it. As she pours the coffee into a cup, she catches the body language that Jon is presenting. New agent, new situation, still in training... it made sense to a certain degree but there was something more there.

"Anyone else want some?" She asks as she pours, eyes shifting to Cael for a moment then back to Jon as she adds, "Though I might suggest some soothing tea for you."

Moving to add a little cream, she sits herself in one of the hairs and nods once to Cael, the only answer she's going to get to the silent inquiry right now, as her attention is drawn elsewhere, "Sims, are you alright?"

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon's eyes flick over to where his husband rests at the mention of tea, but then he shrugs and goes to pour himself some, stirring in cream and sugar. "I'm fine," he says in that way that says 'I'm not fine but I'm lying about it to be professional.'

    Then he glances to Cael and sighs. May as well be a good example. "I'm /not/ fine. I... cannot begin to explain how odd it is for my memory to be /fuzzy/, let alone... everything else we encountered. And it's... being the Archivist is /tiring/, and a little frightening." See, modeling healthy 'admitting to your problems and fears!'

Cael Becker has posed:
    Cael gives a simple, acknowledging nod to Sara's response - but it seems to have been all she was looking for, as she pours herself a coffee and turns her attention towards Jon.
    "Honestly, a few months ago - I doubt I'd have been okay after all the shit that just happened," she admits. "But... Well. I've seen other stuff since then, and..." None of this stuff seems to register in quite the same way. "Still. I'll feel better when we have more answers. I imagine you will, too."

Sara Pezzini has posed:
Sara sits back in the chair, not the most comfortable pieces of furniture really, but it was better than the floor. She listens intently to Jon, even follows his eyes when he looks over at Martin, then looks back to him before adding a hint of sugar to her coffee.

"Witchblade is experiencing the same problem," she offers for Jon's benefit, grateful he shared the truth she already knew. "There are flittering bits and pieces in his awareness for that time between Quinjet and on the ground. It's the reason he's raging against my skull."

Stirring in the sugar she stares at the cup a moment, then takes a sip. All of this weirdness, the strange situation they had been in, it was all part and parcel for Sara. She'd been to Hell, seen things upside down and inside out, but there was still the nagging that it was something new. A changing of reality by time and space, that part was obvious.

"Each new situation we face, each times the world goes haywire, each time that we walk into the unknown, it changes us," she says quietly, for Cael and Jon's benefit. "How you handle that and walk out the other side that matters. The answers to what happened will come in time, we just have to get from this moment to tomorrow, and then the next day, and the next. Whatever that was, whatever it did, shake it off, pick yourself up, and have some tea or something to eat."

Cael Becker has posed:
    "Or whiskey," Cael asserts. "I'll never begrudge anyone a little whiskey."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon nods to Sara. "I know that. Part of the problem is that my duty is to... /know/. To understand, to the degree I can. To experience." He goes to sit in a chair. "What bothers me most is that my first reaction to Agent Rzewski's... situation... was not sympathy or horror but... /curiosity/." He looks slightly revolted, and takes a gulp of his tea.

    Then, to Sara, he adds, "As Agent Becker noted, I've offered her therapy. I... have a great deal of experience conducting therapy for... unconvential patients. The godridden, the magical, superheroes." He laughs a little ruefully. "I don't know what Witchblade /is/ but I'd be willing to offer him an ear if he needs to vent. I certainly understand the... frustration."

Cael Becker has posed:
    Cael takes a sip of her coffee, listening to the conversation for a moment then offering quietly, "I mean... I've got a lot of questions about Rzewski's situation. What is he experiencing? Is //he// okay? What... happened to his body? Can it be retrieved? How can a consciousness be implanted in a jet like that? And at that point - how can you even be certain if it's really him or not? I mean- goes down to the very nature of what is a person, a human, anyways." Yeah. She's a lot of questions.
    "But the fact is - you are sympathetic to him. You do care about his situation - so don't beat yourself up too bad for a kneejerk reaction in the heat of the moment when none of us were thinking clearly." She takes another sip of her coffee, her gaze flicking to Sara periodically. Truth be told - she's tracking her roommate's gaze, to see if there's any other points in the room that seem to attract her attention - particularly if there seems to be no cause for it.

Sara Pezzini has posed:
For the most part Sara's attention is on her coffee and Jon, but her eyes shift from time to time to other places around the room. If she is following what Cael is interested in, then it is moving around the room quite a lot.

"Witchblade is an intelligence born of the primordial powers known as Angelus and The Darkness," Sara explains, then holds up her wrist to show the silver bracelet with huge red stone. Even as lifts her hands the mental tendrils expand out from it, wrap around her arm and form the gauntlet. "This is the true form. and from it the armor can be created. He's not precisely separate from me, I am his Wielder. It's harder to explain beyond that."

She looks back to Cael now, "A message for you, 'Ha ha, I don't have to be here, I can leave and you can't, oh man this guy is hawt!' and she's referring to Cap."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "Wait is that..." Jon /was/ paying attention to Sara, /honest/, but something he saw earlier suddenly grabs his attention and he focuses for a moment, a slow blink of his eyes.

    He frowns at Sara for a moment and then looks around the room. "I saw her earlier, but the whole red mist business distracted me... and there's someone next to you as well, Agent Pezzini." He flicks a glance back to Sara.

Cael Becker has posed:
    Honestly - Cael'd be adverse enough to the concept of magic to begin with, and since she'd been starting to accept it, she'd had other things to deal with, so she'd never thought to ask... So all this stuff about 'Angelus' and 'The Darkness' is news to Cael, and she listens with brow-crinkled puzzlement.
    Until the message is delivered, prompting her to hide her face in her hand. "Oh my //God//," she mutters under her breath. "Cap? //Really//?" I mean, maybe he is. But he's all... //Cap//. "He's such a fucking boy scout," she mutters under her breath, without responding to Jon's revelation that he can see her, too. Not at first.
    After a moment's silence, though, she finally asks, "Tell me what she looks like." Always looking for emperical evidence, our Cael. After all - Sara'd had access to the photo of Alis. She'd known what she looked like.

Sara Pezzini has posed:
Looking slightly over her own shoulder for a moment, Sara looks back to Jon. "Michael Yee," she says softly. "My former partner in the NYPD. No need to frown, no need to worry or call for an exercist. They are connected to the Witchblade now."

She takes another drink of her coffee, eyes flicking past Cael toward Steve's cot. He was sound asleep, and thankfully even if he was awake he would see, so Sara choose to ignore that Alis is doing and looks back to Cael.

"Not repeating that," she tells her roommate. "But boy scout or not, she thinks he's hot."

Again her attention moves to Jon, "Witchblade is a powerful magical artifact, it grants me a sort of sight, but really it comes from Yee. He's been with me through the whole adjustment time to Witchblade."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "I was not going to do so," Jon says softly. "It's not my place. My ancestors speak to me in my dreams, and... clearly these two are your honored dead."

    His gazes drifts to Steve Rogers. "He /is/ aesthetically pleasing, if you like 'tall with a good smile.'" He stops. Coughs. Impolite to say things like that while people are sleeping.

    More swiftly, "The girl is... maybe a teenager? A little over five feet, short black hair, I'd guess she has East Asian ancestry. She's wearing mechanic's coveralls with grease stains."

Cael Becker has posed:
    "...yeah. That's her," Cael confirms quietly, offering no further input on the matter of Captain America's looks. She does give a small shake of her head, taking a sip of her coffee, with her gaze largely directed down at her drink, or at the floor.
    Both of them could indeed see her - and she could not. That's not frustrating at all.

Sara Pezzini has posed:
Again Sara looks over her shoulder. "Go get her away from him, will you?"

She doesn't bother to speak any further on what Yee or Alis are doing. Another drink of coffee is taken and for a moment she is quiet, just watching Cael. She knew the frustration her friend was going through, but now wasn't the time to get into it.

"Witchblade shows me the lives of the past wielders in my dreams, so I can learn from them," she offers to keep the subject off the teenaged ghost pretending she can do things to Steve in his sleep. "Cael, I promised I'd find a way, and I will. Gabriel gave me some leads, I was going to look into them today but we went to play in a temporal rift instead. I'll go tomorrow."

She sighs softly then, shaking her head a little. She wanted to avoid anything that would draw Cael out too much, that wasn't how it worked with her friend. "What exactly is... The Archivist? You say that you remember everything, and that your ancestors talk to you in your dreams... are you meant to know everything?"

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon chuckles, though he casts a gaze to Cael. But he focuses on Sara, and says, "In a way, I suppose I am. I'm meant to... I am a living recorder, meant to serve the Egyptian gods and specifically Thoth. Recording experience, amassing knowledge of what it is to be... human. Some of that is about my own experiences, but much of it is about gaining Stories from others." There's a definite capital there. "I can pull information from a place or a person sometimes. It's... I wasn't trained for it, I'm still figuring it out."

Cael Becker has posed:
    "Sara - it's fine. Really. The work comes first - people needed us today." Cael looks up with a brief, but tight smile, before returning her attention back to her mug. She takes another sip - before she finally pull out one of the chairs and take a seat. Yes - she's just been standing around, leaning back against a wall until now.
    "What do you mean //pull// information?" she asks Jon - a bit flatly. After all - the phrase seems to imply a lack of consent.

Sara Pezzini has posed:
Instinct kicks in and Sara moves the gauntlet into her lap as if shifts back to the silver band bracelet. There is no chance in hell that she's letting Jon touch it, though she had been considering it up to that moment.

Reaching over with her other hand she picks up one the sandwich halves that was sitting on the plate and looks it over, even sniffs at it. "Corned beef," she offers to no one specifically, then takes a bite. Cael had asked the question she was going to ask about pulling information, the idea of anything being pulled unwilling made her twitchy and also made her wonder if Witchblade could block something like that.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon does not move as if he was going to touch the thing. His expression is... unhappy. "I... once stood in the spot where a man died, and was able to get the Story of his last day and how he died. I have, quite on accident, compelled someone's tale out of them. The gods have done it on /purpose/ a couple of times, to allow them to judge the worthiness of the soul in question."

    He looks down at the tea in his hands. "If I touched Witchblade I have no doubt I would gain information from him--perhaps merely a single Story of a past wielder, or perhaps everything he has ever experienced. Perhaps he could stop me, I don't know. I..."

    He stops. Blinks down at his cup. "/Oh/. It's been... /days/ since I've had a Story. No wonder I'm all twitchy and restless." He chuckles. "And here I thought it was just that I need a smoke."

Cael Becker has posed:
    Cael's barely sat down - but as soon as Jon mentions pulling the story of a man's death from the place where he died? Her coffee cup is set on the table, and she's pushing her chair back to retreat from the table, pacing briefly, before finally coming to stop turned slightly away from the pair. She doesn't offer any commentary - instead folding her arms over her chest and looking down and away from the other two agents, tension reflected in her posture and her jaw line.

Sara Pezzini has posed:
The minute Cael moves, Sara's eyes are following her. She knows instantly what the woman is thinking, without being able to read minds. She wants to be able to comfort her in some way, but she knows that's not possible without giving away too much that's not hers to give out.

"How do you get a story," she asks, keeping her eyes on Cael. "Willingly I mean? Clearly you aren't going to go touching Cael and I to suck a story out, you don't strike me as that sort of man... so how does it happen willingly?"

There is a pause here before she adds, "Cael, come eat a sandwich, been a quite a few hours since you ate something."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon... hesitates. "Full disclosure? Depending on the state of your defenses against telepathy? I could simply ask you to tell me. /I will not do that/." He flicks a glance to Cael. "But I think perhaps I will suggest such defenses be part of SHIELD training."

    After a moment, he says... "Willingly? You say it's okay, and I ask, and you tell me. It's not... complicated, so far as I'm aware." He sighs. "Again, I don't have training, maybe there's a... procedure I'm supposed to be doing."

Cael Becker has posed:
    "Not right now, Sara," Cael answers, her voice soft. To avoid disturbing the sleepers, surely. For the moment, though, she remains where she is, turned away from the pair, as she tries to wrestle her emotions under control, forcing back her knee jerk reaction to the meer possibility of something... she does not honestly think Jon would ever intentionally do.
    If he even knew where to go. And he doesn't.

Sara Pezzini has posed:
Sara sighs softly, shaking her head a little before she takes another bite of the sandwich. She wasn't really hungry, but she knew she had to eat, so she ate.

"What kind of stories matter? In the grand scheme of the world, what sort of things would a god be interested in knowing?" She asks Jon, unable to help Cael right now, she'll focus on the other person in the room. "And if Thoth is about knowledge and stories, why is it he has never heard of the Witchblade? It has existed since almost the beginning of time, Cleopatra was a Wielder."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon shrugs. "Any story matters. Everything matters. Small or large isn't really the point. As for why it doesn't...? It's one person at a time, traveling, gathering stories. But it's also possible--"

    Then he stops, his expression going blank. His voice changes, deepens. "There is a story of a weapon born from the primal forces of the universe. A truce struck, the Angelus and the Darkness, creating the Magissa, the gauntlet with the red stone. The last true Queen of Egypt, the last daughter of the Pharoahs, once wielded the Magissa, but even its might could not save us from the northern invaders. The Magissa did not save the Library or the Serapeum. Perhaps if it had, we would not have fled our homeland to begin the long exile." There's a /bitterness/ in his tone, an ancient pain.

    "It is said the weapon will not take an unworthy host--one who tries will lose their arm. The Magissa provides armor, weapons, shields. Wielders of the Magissa have been seen to fly. It can heal wounds and re-animate the dead. It is older than we are, older than the Archive, and it has an intelligence all its own."

    Then he blinks, and shakes himself, and groans. He looks wrung out.

Cael Becker has posed:
    Cael has been listening - and that becomes exceedingly clear as she //stills// as Jon's voice changes. She has been shifting her weight uncomfortably, her hands clenching and unclenching - but no longer. The question she asks is doubtless no real surprise, but there's a part of Cael that regrets it as soon as it's out of her mouth. "What do you mean re-animate the dead?"
    Of //course// that's what she asks.

Sara Pezzini has posed:
Sara stares at Jon for the longest time then thumps her forehead onto the table and leaves it there, even as she grabs her right wrist. A moment of time in which Sara has no real control, she is lost in a series of visions and images that go through her head whether she wants them to or not.

Long moments pass with her like that, then she just suddenly sits up and blinks, eyes watering. "Okay, that sucked," she breaths out, and looks back at Jon. "Didn't miss a single beat in that. The Magissa is Witchblade, and he abandoned Cleopatra for failing him and his purpose."

Standing up, she runs her hand through her hair and starts to pace, agitation perhaps, frustration, or maybe the energy that builds when Witchblade demands her attention. She paces near Cael, pausing long enough to say, "There are powers I don't know how to use Cael, they don't all come to me. Each one takes time and purpose to be revealed as Witchblade chooses. Even after two years with him, I don't know all the abilities. I swear, if I knew, I would have told you, I would have tried."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "The dead are dead for a reason, Agent Becker," Jon says softly. "Not that I am against the idea of it on its own, but to go against the natural order is..." He frowns, shifts uncomfortably. "It goes against /ma'at/," he mutters. "Well, for the most part. Not entirely."

    He takes in a long breath. Lets it out slowly. "Trust me, I... understand, all too well, the... /temptation./" He laughs, a little shakily. "Martin and I lost our daughter when the Frost Giants attacked New York. If I had the knowledge to bring her back I would be... terribly tempted. So terribly..." He stops, trails off, eyes staring at nothing.

    Then he shakes himself. "But there is knowledge, and then there is /wisdom/. Perhaps the Witchblade is old enough, and wise enough, to know when that should be done. I'm certainly not."

Cael Becker has posed:
    "I'm not upset with you, Sara," Cael answers her roommate quietly. "I'm just- ...I'm trying to understand all this, still." And she so desperately wants her sister back - even if she knows it's never going to happen. She takes a deep breath in, letting it out slowly before she lets her gaze turn towards Jonathan, her expression sympathetic.
    "I'm sorry for your loss. ...how old was she?" she asks in an uncertain tone, still staying where she is - but at least watching Jon now, rather than hiding her face from him.

Sara Pezzini has posed:
A little more pacing, the energy rush finally dying down and Sara stands by Cael, holding a half of sandwich toward her.

"I'm sorry to hear about your daughter Jon, that's the worst thing for a parent," she offers to Jon, still shoving the sandwich at Cael. "But you're right, the dead are dead for a reason. We don't get to know those reasons, but I sure wish we did."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon sighs. "Thirteen," he says softly. "And every day I wish I could bring her back. Switch places. She's not the only one." He looks to Cael. "It hurts. It's... some days you can't believe it's real. That she's gone. Like you'll wake up and she'll be there. Some days you wake up and everything hurts so much..." He shakes his head. "I'm sorry for your loss, too. It gets easier with time. Usually."

    He sighs and regards Cael again. "I suppose you're afraid of me now, hmm?" That's how he's interpreting her reactions, anyway.

Cael Becker has posed:
    Cael takes the sandwich half, even as she can feel herself bristling at the idea that there's some //reason// that Alis was killed - that she was allowed to die while others watched on. That it was somehow part of some greater plan by some higher power.
    She somehow doubts that's exactly what Sara means, but that's how it sounds. She simply regards her roommate in silence for a moment, before turning her attention back towards Jonathan.
    "That's awful," she answers him quietly, before adding, "I had times I wanted to switch places, too. We were... seventeen." The spirit had looked younger than that - but that was largely due to her diminuative stature. "I'm not afraid of you. It's just..." She gestures towards their sleeping companions, and then towards one of the cameras in the room. "This isn't the best place to talk."

Sara Pezzini has posed:
Sara looks toward one of the cameras for a moment, then looks back to Cael with a nod as she takes the sandwich. At least she could get Cael to eat, finally. Walking back to the table she sits down, collecting her cup of coffee.

"There's a time and place," she states before looking at the camera again. "This is not the place, nor the time."

One down, one to go. She slides the plate of sandwiches toward Jon now. No, she's not his mother, hell he's probably older than her, but he will eat as well or she'll nag like a Italian mother. "I think we've all felt the sting of loss in one way or another, there's no real comparing grief. It's different for everyone, and how it gets dealt with is different. Some people get stuck in the stages of grief. Denial, anger, depression, bargaining and acceptance, had those chanted to me repeatedly by shrin..." she stops, offering Jon a sheepish smile. "Psychiatrists."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon considers that, then nods slowly in understanding. "So long as... you'll be willing, and I haven't ruined everything with my, ahh..." He doesn't know what to call it, exactly, so he shrugs. Takes a sandwich from the plate. He's comfortable being mothered.

    He smiles to Sara. "I know the term. I try not to do that, myself. There are... things that most people tend to feel. I find, much of the time, it's good to know you're not alone, that your grief is natural and normal. It's normal to grieve, however someone died, however long ago it was, however tragic. It's normal to be afraid of dangerous things--your amygdala doesn't know that you're facing a man with a gun or a monster or magic. It just knows you're in danger."

    A pause, and then he adds, "The Kubler-Ross model should not be generalized from those coping with their own imminent deaths to those grieving, but people do like to attach themselves to an easy theory." The man has Opinions.

Cael Becker has posed:
    "No," Cael reassures. "It's just- the thought that you- that anyone could go to- could go there, and just- just //take// that memory..." She explains a bit haltingly. "It isn't something that should just be taken. You don't seem like you'd do something like that intentionally, it's just- the thought doesn't sit easily with me."
    She's still standing a short distance away - still simply holding that half a sandwich in her hand - but she finally goes back to her chair where it sits, still shoved out from rising abruptly earlier, and slips back into it. After another moment, she finally takes a bite of the sandwich, then makes a face before adding, "Needs more mustard."

Sara Pezzini has posed:
Sara nods to Cael about the mustard, then looks back to Jon.

"The NYPD likes to make sure you aren't bat shit crazy after a parent is killed, after a partner is killed, etc. etc. etc. They send you to the shrink," she snorts softly, shaking her head a little. "An over worked, under prepared doctor who has no real idea what a cop goes through day after day, let alone what a cop as the Witchblade Wielder goes through... but I've repeated the motion so many times, I know the right things to say to get out of dealing with them for too long."

She finishes off her sandwich, then takes the last drink of her coffee, "I'm going to try and get some sleep. At least I can add 'slept with Captain America' to my resume, because being in the same room counts."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon eats his sandwich as Sara speaks, then says softly, "I'm sorry they're not helpful to you. I'll make you the same offer I made Agent Becker--I treat people like you. People who deal with strange things. Superheroes, in the parlance. I will believe whatever you tell me, and offer advice based on your particular situation, not what I would say to someone who /isn't/ wielding a weapon forged in eons past." He smiles.

    Then he stands, and adds to Cael, "I treat the Stories I get the same way I treat my patients--if I /did/ ever get any information, it would not be repeated. But... trust me. I understand your concern. I share it myself." How badly he /does/ want to know, and go find that tale, even if only because it's been so long since he got a new one.

    "Sleep... is a good idea, yes." He's moving to the cot next to Martin. "Rest well, both of you."

Cael Becker has posed:
    "Whether it's repeated or not, no one has the right to take that moment," Cael replies. "It's not a fucking //story,//" she adds quietly, but with an undercurrent of bitter emotion. She remains where she is, staring down at the half finished sandwich in her hand, any hint of appetite abruptly gone.
    "I'm going for a run," she adds, practically slamming the sandwich down, before pushing her chair out again. It might seem a strange thing for someone to say when they're trapped in quarantine - but there's a treadmill in the other room for just that purpose.
    She pauses briefly in the doorway to add, "Goodnight," without looking at either of the pair, before she disappears from sight.