9692/Battery Park AAR

Battery Park AAR
Date of Scene:	18 January 2022
Location:	Chief Carter's Office: Triskelion
Synopsis:	Jon reports in to Peggy about the current situation on the ground in Manhattan, and gets a stash of tea so he doesn't have to drink Lipton anymore. Eugh.
Cast of Characters:	Jonathan Sims, Peggy Carter
Tinyplot:	Path of Glory

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Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon gets himself a portal over to the Triskelion to report on the arrival of the bulk of the angelic army in person. He's in black fatigues, looking somehow less tired than he did when Peggy visited him at Grand Central Station. Presumably someone over there is forcing him to actually take care of himself, and presumably he's actually /listening/ given the weight of all that's on his shoulders.

    He'll take decaf tea, more for the flavor than any need to stay awake, and settle himself to wait for Peggy to be ready for the report. Initial indications are that there were only three SHIELD casualties, so that's much better than the last major battle they had.

Peggy Carter has posed:
Peggy has been directing supplies and more evacuation from north of the city. With every passing day, she hates more not being there, but she's on call nearly 24/7. The moment anyone says they need anything, she's arranging for it to be sent south. She had tea and some finger foods ready for Sims, but there is a pleasant look of surprise on her pale features as she realizes he doesn't look that ragged.

"Field Commander Sims. Good to see you and... See you looking mostly in one piece. Sit. Help yourself to whatever you need." She motions over to the little spread between them, but then settles back down into her own chair. She's given up on her tac suit, instead in one of her winter wool dresses which is made a bit more generous to accommodate the fact she is definitely softer than she was two months ago. She has decaf tea herself, a few biscuits, and a recorder on her phone. She's taken to recording the reports, so she can look her agents in the eye. "How are you holding up?"

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "Martin makes sure I sleep, other people make sure I eat. Agent Becker, a lot of the time--I've appointed her quartermaster for Grand Central, incidentally. It's work she can do without having to directly face down the angels." Jon shifts a bit, reaches out for a biscuit, and adds, "This... 'game' we're playing evidently includes the Champions--myself and Caitlin Fairchild--getting some degree of extra magical power, too, so I have all this refreshing, healing energy to draw on. I'm trying not to depend on it too much. It'll go away in time and there'll be a price; there always is, with magic."

    He sighs. "Other than that... things are hectic. Four billion angels can't fit in Manhattan physically, but it means they have inexhaustable reserves. It's clearer than ever that force alone won't win this... but Michael seems to abide by the 'rules.' On Saturday, I was able to end the conflict by finishing the spell I was casting to seal off the node of power the angels were after." A smirk. "If only mortal armies were so willing to just leave the field like that, right? But... they did damage the ground, knocked down two buildings, and one of our teams collapsed Radio City Music Hall's roof. Damage Control is going to have a /lot/ of work when this is done."

Peggy Carter has posed:
There is a touch of surprise on Peggy's features as Jon mentions the magic powers he's been given. Her eyes narrow at him a touch more, studying him closer, as if she could see the powers through his skin or the glint in his eyes. "Are you...comfortable with that? Or, at least, did you consent to it in any way? You stepped up to take command, yes. It doesn't mean that you volunteered your body to be taken on by magical energy." Peg gives a slight smirk at that thought, "Not that you did as a baby, either. So... maybe this is a part of your life. But I like to check in."

As the official report comes in, Peggy looks pleasantly pleased. She gives a small wave of her hand, "Damage control *always* has a lot of work to do. Buildings can be redone. We have emergency federal funds to rebuild after all of this, which means lives are priority, not buildings. So... good job. I don't suppose every battle might go like this? Are they always laying out... Tests, of a sort?"

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon smiles. "I agreed to it, yes. I met Gaea, last week. Had a vision, really. The power helps me keep people alive, helps keep me safe. Mostly it's just enhancing what I do anyway. I asked if She could just... make sure /nobody/ on our side dies, but that's... not within Her power, evidently. So... I settled for having it myself."

    He nods, then. "We've found out that Michael needs to gain control of six sites in particular, to activate them and thus re-set the universe. If we think of it like chess, that's checkmate condition. We have a plan to permanently seal those sites so he can't use them--I have to assume he'll have another plan, but maybe we'll be lucky and that's that. That spell will take a few weeks to set up, though, so in the meantime I'm distracting the angels by putting up flashier and less permanent seals on each site. It /does/ keep them safe for a month, so it isn't useless. My hope is that once we get the big spell off, the angels will leave Manhattan and we'll be able to go on the offensive and stop Michael from doing this altogether."

Peggy Carter has posed:
There is thoughtful silence from Peggy for a few moments, but she nods in approval. She reaches over to her biscuits, dipping the cookie into her tea and taking a thoughtful bite. Armies march on their stomach, even if she's just support, she's still here. Eating makes everything go down a bit easier. "That sounds like... a quite a good plan, frankly. The most reassuring one I've heard yet. These seals -- do they require any specialized ritual component? Is there ANYTHING I could at all expidite to you? Please, Jon, I want to help. I know you have this in hand, but.... You have *all* of SHIELD at your back. We've got quite a few strings to pull. Even if the Pentagon is still pissed at me." She grins.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon chuckles. "More tea. Some poor kid gave me /Lipton/ the other night. I almost choked." He's joking, but also not, really. C'mon, /Lipton/?

    His expression grows more serious, then. "I have most of what I need for my workings--they're quick and flashy, purposefully so. But I'll get a list of what the permanent working needs and get it to you. SHIELD can probably provide everything except orichalcum." He hesitates, then adds, "I... hate to say it, but more ordinance, too? The angels are quite vulnerable to normal weaponry, and..." He shifts uncomfortably. "If we can lay traps, seed the areas they're searching... it thins them out somewhat."

    A pause, and then, "Also... I don't know how much pull we have with universities or anything, but I've been trying to dig into copies of the old Egyptian funerary texts, trying to... figure out how to make sure I can come back from being dead. I managed to get a look at the best copy of the Book of Nut we've yet found, but /any/ of the other texts, the most complete papyri available, would be... invaluably helpful." He sighs. "You'd think, given that some of my ancestors /wrote/ them, that they'd be easy to access, but I'm still figuring out how that... works."

Peggy Carter has posed:
The most horrified Peggy has looked this entire evening comes in the moment where Jonathan mentions that someone gave him Lipton. "Oh, god forbid. I'll send you an entire tea house down before you drink Lipton. Here... here. Some emergency supplies." Peggy stands up immediately, moving to her tea cart and starting to spoon together some silk tea satchels from several of the options on the cart. She keeps them for when she needs to take a to-go cup out. He'll just get a whole load to take back now. "I assume you have your own kettle. And water." Then she goes quiet, listening again.

"Orichalcum." Peggy murmurs, noting the word as she comes back with his little go-bag, "What *is* that? I know a few people that have... magical touch, beyond you. If you have yet to meet a certain John Constantine, we used to be... Friends." If Sims is at all good at reading people, there is an awkward heaviness to the word 'friends' that certainly implies they might have been something more, but no one wants to think about their boss' old flames.

"And yes. I can talk to a few universities, here and back home. Get you what Eygyptian texts I can. At least microf... well... Modern day microfiches. PDFs of every page. Will that do?"

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "John's an old friend," Jon says, and he means it in the actual way the word is used. "He's... off figuring out something on his own, I'm certain." Pain in his voice; whatever he's saying is a partial truth. Constantine /can/ be a fickle guy, at least seemingly so.

    "But, ahh, orichalcum is an ancient magical metal, common in the days of Atlantis... we have sources for it, but it would be good to have backups in case we need it." A pause, then, thoughtful. He carefully settles the stack of tea sachets in his lap. "PDFs should be good enough. It would be best to look at them directly but we're pressed for time, so I'll take what I can get. A PDF might at the very least help the ancestral memory surface, and I just need a chance to see them /myself/ instead of some scholar's interpretation."

Peggy Carter has posed:
It's not just a bunch of satchels. Peggy's cleaned out at least one of her tea tins and put them all in their so he's easier able to carry them and they keep a little more fresh than just sitting out. She's not a heathen! She settles back in, writing down the word Orichalcum for herself to research more later. There's an understanding note in her eyes about Constantine and a small nod. She doesn't push it. She does know the man, and his fickleness, well.

"What local books I can get you, I will. If the over seas ones aren't willing to loan out, I'll get you copies. I have a... lot of old allies and favors I can call in. Might as well do it now. I'm not getting any younger." She smirks to herself. Not officially any more, at least.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon smiles. "Thank you. That... will be enormously helpful." He hesitates. "I... I'd ask you to come to the Underworld, to help me fix things. I know you'd be willing. But I think... well. It's probably best not to send the Chief into the lands of the dead, especially not now." He sighs. "I'm not bringing Martin, either. He's going to stay here with Agnes, once we have her safe. It's important to have a world to come back to."

    Tea tin examined and lid firmly put back on, he takes another long drink of his own tea. "Everyone's been doing exceptionally well, by the way. Erickson's fortification of Grand Central has done wonders for our work, Agent Pezzini's been enormously helpful, and Becker... I'm very proud of her, the way she's handling herself given everything. Not pushing too hard, but still doing her work. I'd like to offer my commendations for each of them, specifically."

Peggy Carter has posed:
There is a tension to her features as he mentions that he would ask her to come -- a sadness and an understanding at the same time. Peggy's quiet again, going back to wrapping her fingertips around her tea. "I'd come as well, in a heartbeat. Fury is still around, if... If things would go poorly for me." She admits softly, genuinely considering it, "But it's... not a decision just for me. If you have room on your team and you need more back up, Daniel... he's the best their is. He helped found this organization too." But she's tempted, it's clear. The thought is still behind her eyes.

"And yes. Clearly everyone is doing well, yourself included. It was the right move to make you lead on this, you know? You.... you're doing well, Jon." She reaches a hand across the desk, to momentarily rest on the back of his. She's clearly proud.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon flushes, just a little, and coughs. "I... certainly hope so. I'm figuring a lot of things out as I go. Thank you, for the... it helps, knowing people believe in me. I just hope I can continue to do so."

    He hesitates a moment, then says, "You can tell the Pentagon, and whomever else... if the angels don't leave by mid-February, they probably won't be leaving at all. That's when the spell that lets normal ordinance affect them will wear off, so that's our window to get this dealt with."

Peggy Carter has posed:
For a moment, there's an incredibly tired flicker across Peggy's lips. Her expression is bittersweet and a touch angry, but it's at the Pentagon, that much is clear, not Jonathan. "Look, Sims. If this goes on a whole other month? It's done for -- Angels and Pentagon wise. The fact that Manhattan is an evacuated war zone is tanking the Dow, drawing the eyes of other, power hungry countries, not to mention possible other alien races. Washington is screaming at me every day this goes in passing. I... I'll keep holding them off, but they are desperate to get people back onto the island."

Then she sits back, shaking her head slowly, to herself as much as anything. "But that is my fight to have. Not yours. I'll handle it. I'll keep them off your back. I'll get you...whatever you need. But a month will... even if we win, a month will forever scar this country." It probably has already, she knows that.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "America's come back from scars before," Jon replies quietly. "We will again." When /did/ that become 'we' anyway? Somewhere in the last decade or so, although he'd definitely say 'we' to England or the UK or the Commonwealth, too. Maybe he's just shifting toward 'we' meaning 'Earth.' "But I'll see that this gets done as quickly as it can. The faster we do this, the fewer lives we lose."

    He coughs. "One other thing... I'm sitting for an interview with Terry O'Neil, a... well, not a /direct/ response to his interview with Michael, but I suppose that's how it'll be seen. Hopefully that'll calm some nerves, seeing a public face on all of this. I... was intending to keep SHIELD out of it, but I wanted to be certain that's the right move."

Peggy Carter has posed:
The man is getting an arched brow from Peggy as he uses the word 'we', but she also doesn't argue with it. She gives a simple nod, her expression softening as he mentions the faster they do it. "I know. And rushing it might lose lives as well. I... have confidence you are making the right calls. Just keep making them."

Then he's mentioning the interview. Peggy blinks, sinking back into the chair deeper, a sigh escaping her lips. "...Public relations are... so hard. One step up from propaganda. One step down from news. SHIELD went from being the world's heros, to the world's villains, to... to what the US government is going to try to make the fall guys for 90 percent of this. I don't need you to erase us from the record. I also don't need you to make us the big heroes. Our work... It should speak for itself. I hope it does. So... just tell the truth. SHIELD is in this. Don't pretend we're not."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "O'Neil means well. It was... exceedingly brave of him, to go in and get that interview with Michael. He's been wearing a bodycam around Manhattan. He wants people to know what's going on." Jon sighs, and nods. "But, alright, I'll just stick to the truth. It's... probably what I'm best at anyhow."

    He frowns and then says, "Did you... is there anything you need to know? I can't think of..." He stops, as if trying to make sure he's not leaving anything for the last minute. He really is! "Martin and Cael found a cache of documents for the Archive, so that's proceeding... I don't think I've left anything out...?"

Peggy Carter has posed:
"Jon, unless it compromises your operational security, be honest. If it does risk that security? Then Terry doesn't get to know. That's always the bottom line, alright? We aren't in the business of secrets because we *like* being spies, and we don't live in the shadows because we are ashamed of our work or... god, I don't know, we like half the world distrusting us. We do it to protect people. If you don't need to keep things quiet for the sanctity of the mission... Then don't. If you trust this Terry, give him the exclusive. Rather it be in our words than in some reporter we don't know." Peggy reassures him gently.

Then he's moving on and she sits a bit straighter, the meeting coming near to ending, she gets the feeling. "I'm...glad other things are keeping apace. I don't think there is anything else. You get me the list of whatever you need, I'll send it with the books and the next supply drop." She smiles squeezing his hand one last time and then letting go to scoop up her tea. "If there is nothing else, go get some rest. Don't be a stranger but... Report complete."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "I'm still holding you to having dinner when this is done," Jon says with a smile as he gathers things and stands. He's finished off the tea by now. "I'll get in touch if I come up with anything else. We're doing a lot of brainstorming just now, I'm sure it'll coalesce into... something soon enough."

    He hesitates before leaving. "Make sure you're taking care of yourself, too? I know how much work goes on behind the scenes... organizing, supplying, worrying. We couldn't do this without what you're doing here. It's important, and I'm grateful." A pause. "I'll pass on your good wishes to the rest of the team at Grand Central?"

Peggy Carter has posed:
"Please do. I will probably come by again this week just to give some... cheering. Maybe I'll bring more of Daniel's cookies." Peggy half grins. "And give Martin my love. I'm looking forward to that dinner, when this is all over." Peggy unfolds from her chair then, stepping around her desk to properly see him out. Her hand rests momentarily between his shoulders, a last moment of reassurance and support. "See you in a few days. Happy planning."