9140/A Far Out Report

A Far Out Report
Date of Scene:	17 December 2021
Location:	Commander May's Office: Triskelion
Synopsis:	No description
Cast of Characters:	Melinda May, Peggy Carter

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Melinda May has posed:
As the day pushes toward evening, May pushes back from her desk. She shrugs off the jacket she's had on most of the day and pushes up the sleeves on her shirt so she can rub her forearms. There's faint bruising across them, easily explained by an extended period with a training dummy. She rolls her shoulders, rubs the back of her neck, and lets out a soft sigh that speaks volumes about how stiff she is still, even two days after the wipeout on her bike. But she's finished her paperwork and is seriously considering an early dinner, at this point.

Once she's cleared her desk, the office is fairly plain. She doesn't keep a lot of personal effects around -- aside from a small collection of red envelopes that are hidden away inside a desk drawer. No, this is a utilitarian workspace, and that's how she uses it. About the only thing that suggests it's her office and not some casual use space is the small statue of a female Chinese shishi -- a little lion dog sat on a cabinet overlooking her desk, above the cupboard where her tea and scotch supplies are stashed.

Peggy Carter has posed:
While Peggy noticed the stiffness in May's walking earlier, they were simply passing in the hall and Peggy wasn't going to call out an unreported injury in front of other staff. But she has had a mental note in the back of of her head to check in on her best friend before the day is over. So, just as May is clearing her desk, the feeling of the Director's general emotional state with a little extra concern can be felt. She's knocking on the door a moment later.

"Melinda? Bad time?" Once she's asked inside, Peggy steps past the door and in far enough she can shut it behind her. She's in her elegant wool swing coat but she pulls it off the moment she's inside and tosses it across the back of a chair. She's on her way out, but not in any rush. Dark eyes look May up and down, her head tilting in just a bit of concern, "Are you...feeling alright?"

Melinda May has posed:
May senses Peggy's approach. She gives her a small, tight smile. "Yeah, just stiff. Nearly got creamed on my bike, the other night. Bike's in far worse shape than me."

She moves toward the cabinet where her tea is stashed. "I was just about to make myself a cup. You want one?" Her eyes fall on that coat. "Or are you actually leaving on time tonight?"

Peggy Carter has posed:
There is just little hint to Peggy that *something* is off. She's not certain what it is but old spy's instincts, but her head tilts, studying May a little closer. "I don't think I've ever known you to lay your bike down ... ever. You sure you're all right?" Peggy steps closer, looking her up and down, searching for more obvious injuries.

"And on time is... relative. A cup of tea would be lovely before I go. You can update me on... Everything." She motions around them, not just referring to the bike accident, but the rest of the day as well.

Melinda May has posed:
May snirks softly. "Didn't have a choice," she says, turning around to pull out the small kettle she keeps and plug it in. "The bitch came at me out of nowhere. I just about hit her. Hit some ice..." She shrugs, though her expression is dark. Angry. "Scraped up my new jacket, too." Which probably explains some of why she's upset.

She sets about prepping the rest of the tea fixings, waiting for the kettle to boil. "The bike ended up wrapped around a pole, but I didn't. I'll be fine." She doesn't count it remotely as a win, however.

As the water warms, she moves to one of the less formal seats along the wall. "Everything else? About what you'd expect. The deployment to Bialya is on schedule and I want to revisit the situation in Afghanistan. I've also got Davis and Piper taking a look at some unusual chatter out in Red Hook. Oh. Did you see Whitman's report? I had a debrief with him, today, too."

Peggy Carter has posed:
The news about the jacket doesn't see to much hurt Peggy. "Well, the jacket *did it's job*, then. Scars are always more interesting. Good. It's you and the bike I'm more worried about. If you need a day or two off to get it to a proper repair shop, let me know, and if we need to chase down this woman and teach her a lesson... Well, I'm quite good at lectures. Or other lesson giving practices." Peggy isn't exactly threatening to beat up some random woman for May, but she's not-not doing that either. She gives May a gently teasing smile, trying to be reassuringly, as she settles into that chair across from her.

"...Keep me updated about the Red Hook matters and... What? No. I wasn't reading any reports until I get home. Daniel and I have reinstituted working dinners. I go home actually on time but, if there is work to do, I take it with me and we do it together. It's a... compromise, call it. Once that's worked for us before. But if you want to enlighten me, I'm curious now?"

Melinda May has posed:
May shakes her head. "I had it towed to a decent mechanic. I should know sometime tomorrow whether or not it's salvageable. There's no point chasing anyone down. It wouldn't help." No. The damage is well and truly done... Just not finished, she's sure.

She picks up a tablet to bring up Whitman's report and pushes it across the desk, in case Peggy wants to glance at it. "You know Whitman's been gone for about a year," she says. "Turns out, he's been stuck in *another* alternate dimension. One, apparently, HYDRA's taken an interest in." Because, *of course*, they have.

"Whitman describes the place as an interdimensional crossroads of sorts where various realms abutting Asgard can be accessed, among others. Apparently, the Amazons are fairly regular travellers there. If they can get in and out, chances are others can, too. He says most of the ways in and out of there are fairly random and probably oceanic, but, to me, that only means it's that much easier for HYDRA to conceal their access."

The kettle clicks to signal it has boiled and she moves to pour out the water for tea, glancing sidelong at Peggy. "He also said something about an artifact used by Baron Strucker, that may still be there." Possible motive for HYDRA's interest? She certainly thinks so.

Peggy Carter has posed:
Peg is still frowning, but she doesn't push about the bike. She knows it will probably just make things worse. She reaches out for the pad, starting to look it over as she listens to May's emphasized report. She's more interested in the other woman's words than she is the written piece. She can read the writing later. The commentary about HYDRA gets a quiet groan from her, "Of course they are..." She echoes May's thoughts almost word for word, rubbing her free hand against a temple.

"So, with all this... does Agent Whitman know how to go back? If so, we need to get to that artifact before they do. We have them off balance here. We don't need them getting ANY more advantage, especially something that powerful..."

Melinda May has posed:
"I believe so," May says, bringing a cup of tea over to Peggy. It's still steeping, but the small saucer she lays down on the desk will deal with any strainers as necessary. "He claims he's built a small fortress there called 'New Avalon' and helped the local human population fortify themselves. Doesn't sound like the technology level there is much above the middle ages at best. But that also means they're not well-positioned to deal with a HYDRA-level threat."

She brings her cup back over to the seat she'd chosen and settles down into, the movement betraying her stiffness once more. "Whitman doesn't believe there's a credible arcane threat there, at the moment, aside from the continued existence of this 'Claw' artifact. Pretty sure he'd jump at the chance to accompany a team back there to secure it, though. He said as much... and he said that his sword is 'bored'." She wrinkles her nose. "Which makes me think we've got another Witchblade on our hands with that."

Peggy Carter has posed:
"...w-what?" Peggy asks in response to the sword. She's just staring in quiet, tired shock. "Bored." She repeats, shaking her head slowly. "Bloody...hell. In my day, we locked up 0-8-4s. We didn't carry them around being certain they were being *entertained*." Peggy mutters, reaching for her tea and trying to swallow back the headache which is threatening to form. She sighs deeply through her nose, then takes a deep breath of the tea's scent before sinking back into the chair and bringing the tea cup into her lap.

"And... what is *your* opinion? Considering this could come down to a fight against HYDRA, I'd what you heading up the team. Arcane or not, this is a mix between STRIKE and WAND. You're my go to. I want you on this."

Melinda May has posed:
See? May knew that was coming. She's beginning to think she should just transfer into WAND and be done with it. But that would be like admitting defeat, and that won't happen. "I get the impression that locking up either the Witchblade or the Ebon Blade would work about as well as locking up water in a sieve." Only effective if you can plug up all the holes, first.

She sighs, taking a long sip of her tea as she considers just what her opinion is. "I think," she says finally, "that if there's a chance Strucker was -- or is -- involved..." Yeah, she's not counting any HYDRA head truly dead. Not after that mess with Malevolo. "Then it's inevitable this thing is going to come back to bite us in the ass if we don't get out ahead of it." What else is new?

"Apparently, HYDRA has christened the whole dimension 'Weird World'." 'Cause they're just creative like that. "Whitman calls his fortress and settlement 'New Avalon'. And apparently *they* call *him* 'King Whitman'. He claims that wasn't his choice." She suspects that's the truth. "Regardless, it means there's no point leaving him behind. He's got political and military influence there, and we'll need that."

She frowns faintly. "Emotionally... I'd like to give him a little time. I don't know how much time we can afford. But he's... frayed for lack of a better term. Stable, I think; he's disciplined enough I don't think he's going to fall apart anytime soon. But his stress levels are running high, and I think that's has a lot to do with both his time spent there and his retransition here. For now, I've told him to make sure his certs are up to date and that we'd work on returning him to regular duty rotation once they are. I've also recommended he speak with Sims."

A beat. She cants her head. "Did I tell you about my conversation with him?"