99/I'm a what!

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I'm a what!
Date of Scene: 24 February 2020
Location: Medical Ward: Triskelion
Synopsis: Daniel is relieved to know he's not contagious.
Cast of Characters: Daniel Hastings, Bobbi Morse




Daniel Hastings has posed:
The medical ward at the Triskelion is a busy place no matter what time of day or night it is. Separated into a number of working groups such as rehabilitation, recovery, surgery, emergency and basic examinations, the beehive tries to keep things orderly. That's generally the way Daniel prefers his life. Orderly. Only he hasn't had orderly in his life for.. a complicated amount of time. Here he is, back in the waiting room, waiting.. for someone in a white coat.. to come prick his arm again and take more blood. He can already tell them he feels healthier. He's been eating like a horse. Put on ten pounds in a week (he could use another fifteen truth be told). What else could they want from him? Mind you.. he wants something from them. He's holding a sheet of paper in his hand that's darn near crumbled. Oh he'd folded it neatly.. but then held it tightly in a clenched hand.

Bobbi Morse has posed:
Dr. Bobbi Morse. That's her title. That's her title alright. She who has a PhD and battl staves.

ight now. She's wearing a lab coat, and safety goggles. It's she who is on the medical ward. Lab coat over tactical suit? Check. The rigging that usually holds guns and....gadgets? That's holding medical things currently. Her boots give away her movement. Looking over to the door, Bobbi heads to the waiting room, Bobbi heads in there finally.

"So,Mr. Hastings?" she asks, stopping in front of him. "How're you holding up?" she asks.

Daniel Hastings has posed:
Daniel Hastings looks up from his personal frustrations to see Bobbi and.. tilts his head. The combination of tactical gear and lab coat causes a disconnect that has him stand up and.. offer the sheet of paper in his hand to her. "Yes. You can explain this to me." A glance at the paper and they look like lab results. His lab results. In particular a note at the bottom noting anomalous dna markers signifying a 'mutant genome'. Mind you, 'yes' doesn't exactly answer the question asked which suggests he was lost in some personal train of thought when she stepped out.

Bobbi Morse has posed:
Bobbi takes the paper and studies it. Her brow furrows at it as she looks up from the paper. That smirk's still on her lips. Tactical lab coat, the must-have fashion accessory for SHIELD medical people. Or the agent who doubles as a lab tech. "Ah" she says. "Please follow me" she adds,l leading the way to an unused doctor's office. Opening the door with her shoulder, Bobbi nods, "Please, come in and sit down. You'll want to sit down when I go over the paper and what it says. I'm Dr. Morse"

That's the introduction, not that it's needed by way of ID cards. It's on her lab coat. Watching him, Bobbi sets the paper on the desk and looks to it. "I can go over the results, or cut to the chase" she nods. "It's your call. You want to know what the paper's about, or want to go into detail?"

Daniel Hastings has posed:
Daniel Hastings follows Bobbi into the office after a gallant sweep of his arm for her to lead the way. Once inside, he sits down opposite the desk and looks across it at her. "I know what the bottom line means, Doctor. I want to know if I'm otherwise a carrier for some strange alien disease or if I can mingle with the population of Earth again without worrying about spreading some Kree snot rockets." That was a joke. "More.. I want to know if that last line means I can or cannot work for SHIELD anymore. And.. given the various penchants for 'registration' am I supposed to smile at this like the Jews did in Nineteen Forty and put my name and DNA in some registry so I can be 'tracked' by the government? More importantly, am I already in said database?"

Bobbi Morse has posed:
"I....don't know. That's a question for Director Fury or Hawkeye" Bobbi says hesitantly. She looks across the desk. "If it was just my call, I'd say yes but keep you out of the field. It's not my call. I can't begin to guess what you'll be told" Bobbi sighs shaking her head. "Look. If I could jump up and make it all right, I would. I don't know what those results mean for your job history, because I don't hav that sort of clearence and pull. You need to take this up to the top of SHIELD" she says, then looks slightly sullen. "Off the record, unofficially, I'd let you work here no problem if you took precautions. But that's just my opinion. We need skilled people, unofficially, off the record" Bobbi shrugs. Ah, workplace politics are less fun when the fate of the world depends on it. Not as fun, really....still.....still......

Daniel Hastings has posed:
Daniel Hastings blinks. "Took precautions? Against what precisely? I already know what my abilities are. I've been using them for the last five years.. give or take a few thousand light-seconds in either direction." Whatever that means. "I'm not a bomb and neither are the people out in the horrifically named 'Mutant Town'." He tilts his head. "Honest question for you, doctor. You've seen the results. Do I have any signs of foreign contagion?" (None noted) "And, as a member of the human subspecies 'homo superior' as some have dubbed it.. are you afraid of me?" Now his attention turns quizical, his tone almost.. wounded by the thought.

Bobbi Morse has posed:
"I'm not afraid of you" Bobbi says. "And, no. You don't have any signs of contagion from the report we're going over" she says, circling a few lines on the paper with a pen. "Be honest. What do you want from this meeting? Do you want to find a way to convince SHIELD to let you keep working for them?" Bobbi asks, tucking hair behind ears. Looking across the desk, Bobbi smiles. Actually smiles. "I can help you get that. I can help you put together things that state you're not a threat and you should work for us" she says. Talk about the phorical carrot. "But what do you want out of this meeting?" she wonders aloud.

Daniel Hastings has posed:
Daniel Hastings takes a deep breath. "I.. well I was told I needed to get more bloodwork done. To see how my health was improving since my return. I.. was going to rail about how no one noticed this before when I was an active agent but then the prevalence of mutations was next to nothing prior to the atomic age so it's quite likely they didn't know how to test for the markers." He lets it out with a sigh and leads forword, elbows on his knees. "I just watched a gross miscarriage of injustice against a mutant this week. Arresting a victim of attempted abduction and charging him with inciting a riot. And there was nothing I could do. Not as a citizen anyway. Or even as a masked vigilante for that matter. Not unless I broke him out of prison and made the situation worse for him." Turning his head to look at you, he looks.. distraught.. is the best word. "I've lived a life of service Doctor Morse. From the time I was a little boy in scouting until the war when I signed up despite having an exemption as a doctor of critical sciences. I was a shield agent for five years. Now? Now I'm in limbo awaiting credentials to even show I'm still alive, some form of living so I can get my own apartment and food and clothing and not be dependent on SHIELD's magnamity." He tugs on the uniform overall he's wearing that's devoid of rank or name or patches. "I.. want agency, Doctor. I need to be a man again and not a prisoner of fortune."

Bobbi Morse has posed:
"I hear you" Bobbi says "And I understand your plight. Believe me. I do." she stars and looks genuinely torn for a moment. Protocol dictates one thing. Her impulsiveness is having a tug of war. "Here's what I'll do. I'll see if I can help you out. I've got a bit of pull here. So I can talk to people, plead your case. If I can find a way to take you on as a student, or get you a job in the labs, I'll aim for that" she says. Small steps

Oh there's a determined look in her eyes. "Look. I want you to get what you want, okay? I believe you. You're not a threat to us. So" she says. "I think you could plead your case to the director. Or the higher ups. It's worth a shot. I'll vouch for you" Bobbi says. "I'd be willing right now to use my ID to get you somewhere comfortable to sleep, but....I fear the repercussions"

Daniel Hastings has posed:
Daniel Hastings tilts his head. "I wouldn't ask you to do that. The agency has given me a room to live in.. but it's not as if I can make friends, have guests over, heaven forbid I wished to cook for a lady.. clearly that would be awkward. It's not a personal space. Which is my conundrum. Either way, that's not your responsibility. It's mine. Frustrated by the aforementioned lack of identity and funding. Which, you're a doctor. I mostly just needed the reassurance that I wasn't contagious. Which.. thankfully that is resolved. The rest of this is a conversation in counseling I suppose. Which isn't your area so I do apologize." He offers a wry smile.

Bobbi Morse has posed:
"I'm a doctor in the Ph.D sense" Bobbi says. "Not an M.D. unfortunately but I know how to read and interpret data. My Ph.D was in biochemistry. I'm no counselor. But I can certainly do my best" she says and looks to Daniel. "You got a good point. Not my responsibility. But" she says gently. "You want freedom, right? I can only help you so much"

With that she gets up and opens the door with a nod. "Look, I feel bad for you. I get it. I hate being cooped up and I want to help you out. Believe me. I got a suite here and I understand your pain" Bobbi says, though she gestures to the door. "I'll check in on you later, okay? I'm needed elsewhere in the building"

Somewhere Danile's not cleared to be. Bobbi on the other hand is. She cracks a smile, watching for a moment.