9961/Once on a Blue Moon

Once on a Blue Moon
Date of Scene:	03 February 2022
Location:	Attilan
Synopsis:	A nice walk ends with a confrontation, and cowardice.
Cast of Characters:	Blackagar Boltagon, Daisy Johnson, Jane Foster, Jemma Simmons

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Blackagar Boltagon has posed:
The Human Quarter that had been established on Attilan had seen some of the intended visitors, always under the watchful eye of representatives of the Genetic Council, since the crisis on Earth had started. The offering of the safe haven had been made without pretense or expectation by the King despite the rousing speeches against such an action. Even though the area had been labelled the human quarter, it included the Earth based Inhumans as well. In reality, it had started to house individuals of different persuasions as well, essentially a haven for any non-'Pure' Inhuman. The prejudices against them were not hidden, with scornful gazes and swift correction to any who would attempt to venture outside of the designated area. It certainly was not a poorly kept space, but it was certainly a situation that did not allow for movement beyond.

Granted, when did such things ever stop those who were truly curious? Exceptions crept up over time, the largest of these was the provision to allow a few members of the Royal Family to both visit the Human Quarter and to bring members out of it to various areas of Attilan. Obviously, the expectation was that Blackagar would do such -- but his time had been consumed with dealing with the Council and all of their lamentations about the situation he had brought about. No, as it would turn out the most frequent visitor to the Human Quarter, constantly seeking a trio of guests to escort out, was Lockjaw.

No day has gone by that he has not happily trotted himself into the area, seeking Daisy or Jemma or Jane for their company. The communication gap may be significant, but he is easily read. Being walked with, talked to, and just having time spent with him because all know, that he is the goodest boy on the Moon. Today was no different, with Lockjaw having plodded along intent to bring the trio out with him into the city. For the Human Quarter does not have spacious parks, it does not have the good simulated river, and those are his preferred locations. It is additionally an ideal situation for all. The 'guests' are free to go with him, still with side glances from the Council's appointed watchers, but there is a bit more freedom in leaving. The benefit for Lockjaw? Attention yo, attention.

Today's outing has brought them to a park that rests along the said simulated river and under the shadow of a twisting tower made of crystal known as the Tower of Vision. The weather is the same as it always is under the dome which cloaks the city. The atmosphere, the same. Everything is pristine, perfect, and muddled with the underlying tension that floats in the air of a gilded reality.

Daisy Johnson has posed:
Another day. Another stink eye from the Watchers. Daisy is used to that, having been underestimated most her life until she became a SHIELD Agent and fully embraced as destiny as Quake. So when they look at her in that unfriendly manner? She smiles right back. "Great day for a walk, ain't it?" she tells them, even if she doesn't wait for an answer, steps loose as she makes her way out and into the city more proper. One hand rests on Lockjaw's side as they walk. Because good boys deserve the best rubbings, fingers occasionally digging in for some rubbing and sometimes even letting some good-feeling vibrations spread out to the best doggo.

"So, I have a question.." She asks of Jane and Jemma. "Are *we* walking Lockjaw or is he walking us?" it's a good question! She isn't really sure of the answer either. A chuckle escapes her lips. "I fear it may be a mix of the both but ...."

It's when they get to the park and close to the tower of vision that she pats herself. "Oh crap, did any of you bring the bags for Lockjaw?" because clearly she forgot. She puts one hand on her forehead. "Please tell me one of you remembered..." she pleads.

Jane Foster has posed:
Jane forsake many things on the Earth, none moreso than her golden Eowyn, who is assuredly in good hands with an intern who is not Darcy. Darcy has her own PhD now, she interns for none. Lockjaw in his steady, solid presence certainly helps fill the gap for the rescue hound from that not-so-long ago mission in Metropolis. Here they don't have human cultists trying to summon a shadow being from another dimension though. She can almost forget, roaming through the city with most of her nearest and dearest.

"It's a partnership, Daisy. Teamwork. Lockjaw shows us the best sights in the city and he makes sure we get out to stretch our legs instead of performing long-term experiments on the geophysics present in this area," she allows with a smile for the best boy. He isn't going to be difficult for her to read, both as a dog owner and a super-cheat linguistically. "A surprising number of lunaquakes, aren't there?"

Jemma has been their angel, Daisy their devil, and that makes Jane the human, nephilim, or something between. She glances up at the twisted spire with a look between amused and calculating. "Good thing I thought to bring our picnic lunch. Though perhaps we ought to ask if there's a dark side repast?"

Trust her to work out the cultural elements as a result of being locked to a different satellite, and she gently nudges Jemma with an elbow. "I even brought water. I'm not going to ask about the bags."

Jemma Simmons has posed:
Even within the Human Quarter, content with researching from aware, Jemma Simmons has noticed the sidelong glances and the cautious whispering in corners. It is something that she doesn't comment on directly...but it does make her a bit saddened. Not because she is the target of such...but the fact that the sentiment is necessary. She would feel sorry...but saying that out loud would not be the best.

So, instead, Jemma remains her pleasant self.

One of the few residents that does not care for Jemma's genetic disposition is the rather large canine. And...the fact he needs walkies? Well...Jemma always did like animals. So going for a walk was the perfect release. And...as the trio of Furiae walk, with a happy Lockjaw leading the way, Jemma cannot help but smile.

"It is most certainly Lockjaw walking us, Daisy. Could you even stop him if you wanted to?" The amused British tones ring out, which follow immediately after Jane's declaration of teamwork. "Our guide and guardian." A glance is given to Daisy as she pats her pockets for bags. "you forget the waste bags again?" Perhaps this...isn't the first time Daisy may have forgotten.

Blackagar Boltagon has posed:
How does the bag get left behind?! At the conversation taking place, Lockjaw lifts his head up to look at the trio, a soft growl of curiosity coming from him. The tuning fork upon his forehead wiggles as he shakes his head letting a bit of slobber toss free before he begins to trot into the park as if leading the way. And truly, what giant dog doesn't lead the way wherever people go?

The cultural traits of the Inhumans are a study unto themselves, and despite Blackagar's attempts to explain some of them there is just something about an ancient society that strives for anonymity that makes any outsiders a threat, even if they are not. The behaviors of many akin to what one might expect a tribal society would express to explorers stumbling upon their village. The looks, the uncertainty, the distrust. Humans after all, well more appropriately in this case Earthlings, have always been a problem.

Despite the intrinsic beauty of the park, meant to simulate a nice open grassy knoll that could be found in a meadow field, that lingering animus remains. This time it is made tangible however, not merely an under surfaced tension but brought to bear as a pair of rather imposing looking figures approach the trio and Lockjaw. Stern expressions accompany stern voices. "Excuse me," the polite words not matching the tone in the least, "But this area is off limits to non-citizens." The pair are in matching wardrobes, a black looking robe with a small golden threading upon the breast in the shape of entwined rings that look similar to the representation of an atom. "We have been instructed to escort you to a more appropriate area."

Daisy Johnson has posed:
Teamwork. Yea, Daisy can get behind that. She *is* Miss Teamwork after all with all she supports SHIELD and it's ideals, and working together to accomplish peace is one of those ideals she has embraced. So she grins back to Jane with an agreeing nod. "Team work. Alright, I like that..." she turning to Lockjaw to give him a nice little scritching behind the ears, "Teamwork, you hear that Lockjaw, we are--" and then off Lockjaw goes leading the way on his own...

Daisy stares at him go then shifts her eyes to Jemma, "We are clearly being led.., hmph.." but did Lockjaw bring some waste bags for Daisy? No! This whole hierarchy is crooked! Yet what's true is that Daisy didn't bring those bags for the dog either so ...

"Hey..., last time wasn't my fault, Jemma.." It totally was. Daisy is now walking faster now to keep up with the doggo as it gets closer to the tower, "Maybe we can use some of your poppins stuff to .., dispose in case it happens? Or ..." and she looks between Jemma and Jane, "We may have to commit a crime and leave it there.." she knows neither Jemma or Jane would have that though! Such a manipulative Daisy...

Yet before the convo can evolve more here they are face to face with bureaucrats. She smiles pleasantly. "Hello, we are guests of the King." She offers, "Lockjaw is guiding us through the city, I mean we can't really tell him where to go. Unless you would like to try?" she offers the bureaucrats. In fact, she might be hopeful that they *try* to move Lockjaw. That would be fun to watch.

Daisy is indeed the devil of this dynamic.

Jane Foster has posed:
"I am not going to surmise how they get rid of their wastewater and solid waste products. Lockjaw's participation in that system leaves it to our dear companion to show us," Jane dryly says. Crooked systems meeting innovative technological methods to improve the lunar biomass meet head-on in a very large dog or maybe a gassy Inhuman. They're all full of hot air, right?

Among them, Daisy and Lockjaw alone carry the right genetic sequencing to pass muster -- and the former, grudgingly. However ancient and insular Attilan may be, the same old physical intimidation tactics found in Cairene markets or Boston bars bother women on the Moon. Drinking that bitter cup is the lot of a majority of women no matter where they go, apparently.

She offers the pair coming closer to complain about the miscreants a polite smile, adopting a masked expression used for ages in male-dominated fields. "Greetings," she offers in that same neutral, respectful tone. "We have stayed with our chaperone and deferred to his guidance. Lockjaw, you would not let us stray, would you?"

Devil. Human. Angel.

Even if somewhere not all that far off, an individual has //many// thoughts about this.

Unfortunately he is a bit preoccupied with the latest retro swing release from a French group and quaffing a barrel of mead. But that tickle against his mane can be directly attributed to his erstwhile broken ward.

Blackagar Boltagon has posed:
Ah yes, Lunar Lackey's, doing their lackey like tasks. The approach of the pair do gain the attention of Lockjaw who looks with a tilted head at the pair. Of course he knows them, it's Attilan, everyone knows everyone for the most part. It is always a fun moment to have a conversation about family trees. They begin to look a bit narrow at times. Regardless, the large doggo does approach where Daisy, Jemma and Jane are at after having trotted away, looking at the two and offering a low grumble. Not a growl, but definitely a rolling sound.

"We are aware of who you are," the first of the two Inhumans says to Daisy, slowly turning to look at her, movements almost a tad bit awkward. "There are many who are attempting to understand what motives that King Blackagar has to allow your presence." There is an almost hint of a question to his voice. The second of the two Inhumans look at Jane instead, picking up almost flawlessly from the first. "Many have wondered if the King has been manipulated to allow this sacrilege to Attilan. If he has lost his way. Perhaps with proper questioning you would provide the insights that I need to know precisely what motivates him."

The low grumble from Lockjaw turns into a hint of a growl. There is something distinctly off with these pair of Inhumans confronting them. Movements, looks in the eyes, not the smooth normal actions. Instead, as they step forward towards the group, they look almost like marionettes upon the string.

Daisy Johnson has posed:
Seems they are taking Daisy on her bluff. And actually are going to try to stop them, or Lockjaw. That's a touch surprising and it makes Daisy cant her head to the side. Something ..., feels off. It's more than just the awkward motions but their vibrations are .., all wrong. They do not match what they are doing. It has her shift into a more guarded posture, a look to the other Furiae. "Trouble." she whispers. Low enough but the vibrations carry away to reach her faithful friends.

It's trouble that manifests when they start moving forward towards them, "King Blackagar only wishes the best for his people, and to the Inhumans on earth. We *are* the same." she frowning a touch. Not one to enjoy separations between Inhumans this Daisy!

One hand raises up when they move even further forward. "Please. Stay back. We wouldn't want to hurt any of you. If you wish to speak we can yet would you dare attacking guests of the King himself? What happened to the rules of hospitality?"

Even with saying that she braces herself for a fight.

Jane Foster has posed:
<<Where have I heard this before?>> Jane's French is smooth and holds a mild trace of ironic amusement. Only the faintest, a light to be restrained rather than misinterpreted or released as a wildfire. A different city, a different plane, and culture-bending expectations all the same. Behind that smile rings a pang of recognition so strong, Daisy probably recognizes the vibrational chords shivering in a weird cadence out of step with her heartbeat.

A higher, angry harmonic. Distant, surging thunder.

Daisy isn't the only one who recognizes the threat, though Jane insinuates herself in front of Jemma without so much as a by your leave. "How good to speak with the head of the committee. Maybe in person, next time?" Her hand gently comes to rest on Lockjaw for a moment, a quiet reassurance. For him, themselves? "We have no desire for conflict. The past several days demonstrate we can coexist, respecting your laws and ways." Her tone stays neutral, reasonable. "Those questions are best directed to the king. We cannot speak for another's intentions."

The slightest pause rides with a flip on the final noun, as if she could say something else. Would.

Jemma Simmons has posed:
Confusion sets in as Jemma watches the exchange. Enough to the point where she doesn't even register the fact that Jane stepped in front of Jemma in a very protective manner. "Are...you questioning your king?" It is a very innocent question, further reinforcing that yes, Jemma is very much on the heavenly side of the spectrum.

Jemma is also on the more squishable side of physicality, as well. Her 'Poppins gear', as Daisy calls it, is back in the temporary quarters she was provided. Her usual ICER? Not with her. After all, it is hardly fitting to instill welcome when walking around armed. A hand reaches to Lockjaw's flank, the slender fingers pressing into the fur. Though...be it for comfort for Jemma or for Lockjaw himself remains to be seen.

Blackagar Boltagon has posed:
Questioning the King. The repeated phrase from all three should certainly cause some recoil from loyal Attilan subjects, but these do not seem to be responding at all, in fact both tilt their heads back and laugh -- together. At the same time. "He is a fool," the one facing Daisy says. "Frolicking around Earth, consorting with ... lesser than the station of King of Attilan should. We are not the same. There is no coexistence, and your presence here only makes my position stronger."

Those words bring out a distinct growl from Lockjaw this time. A low rolling sound followed by a very distinct bark. Add gigantic dog barking menacingly to the list of things in the bucket list that has been cleared out.

The tensions remains thick, the threat of conflict is there but the two Inhumans are not moving forward, instead they just seem to remain there, measuring the three women. The one in front of Jane speaks next, "You are the one. Interesting." The second responds, picking up shortly after, "But you. You are Inhuman," this is to Daisy. "Tainted, but still Inhuman. An interesting possibility." Another low growl from Lockjaw follows.

"And you," The last you is Jemma, both turning to look at her. "I have yet to figure just where you fit into this puzzle. But I will. A delicious mystery to unfurrow." The gaze lingers, then the two return to looking between all three and at Lockjaw, "Take them home, if you know what is good for you." These men, threatening Lockjaw, are responded to with another growl from him. He moves forward, bumping up against Daisy and Jane, shifting so he is contacting Jemma.

Daisy Johnson has posed:
There's a moment there in which the moon beneath their feet shakes. Just for that milisecond that it takes for Daisy's eyes to narrow and she keeping her feelings in check when she hears the trio being threatened by this marionette 'circus'. Still, if this was back on earth she'd most likely be on their faces by now. As it stands? She remains still, listening, not wanting to be the one throwing the first punch. She knows it's what they want.

So instead she does what she does best. Taunt the bullies. "Are you jealous of your King?" A beat, "Or jealous of my friend here?" she doesn't know who is behind the marionettes! ... Yet.

"Can't wait to be face to face with you and show you just how tainted I am though, but I won't harm these people who aren't guilty of your manipulations." She looks ahead to the tower, then to Lockjaw.

"Do you want to go back, boy? Is that what you are saying?" She rubs Lockjaw's side. Little does she know that he teleports!

Jane Foster has posed:
Home has a broad definition. Earth? The quarters snug under the shadow of the Old City?

Wisdom tells Jane to keep her mouth shut and trust the dog in a brewing diplomatic storm predating most of them. She doesn't second guess Lockjaw or Daisy. The lightest touch keeps her in contact with the great hound, surreptitiously offering a pet where his bulk probably stops the Inhumans from noticing.

"Think about your space lawyer," she asides softly to the irate woman shaking the lunar lithosphere. Unlike Roberto da Costa, /their/ space lawyer is the best. Matt also doesn't have a Plan B escape route.

Wisdom wedded to courage tells the astrophysicist something else. "We will not start an incident and violate Attilan's hospitality." Key designator there, lent due respect and quiet dignity. Here she lives. Here she has, in her way, died. A hidden city, overshadowed by such frenzied currents and hidden distractions. "You may proposition me with your inquiries at the leave of the king, Maximus Boltagon."

A beat of silence.

"We would never dare to impose ourselves in a manner unbecoming of guests to the most respected council."

Jemma Simmons has posed:
Oh, it is so cute when Jemma is confused.

And, right now, she is most definitely confused. Her hand is still within the warm fur of her rather large four-legged guardian...and this time she certainly does notice that the canine has positioned himself so that all three are in contact with him. Of course, the fact that both guards (minions? Lackeys?) are speaking, alternating each other as if they share the same mind? Yes! Telepathy!

Which...prompts a mixture of elation and immediate concern. For Jemma is sometimes too smart for her own good.

"Really, it is okay. There is no need for escalation. We can go back to the designated quarters and I am sure we can just avoid this terrible misunderstanding."

A pause...Jane used a name. With a damn familiar surname. Jemma mouths the word 'Boltagon' but doesn't say it. Oh...oh bloody hell. A family squabble. "We will be going now, by your leave, Your Highness."

Not that Jemma actually knows if whoever is mind-whammy'ing the guards is a prince or not. But...jealous of the king? Same last name? Jemma is too damn British to not see the signs. And therefore falls back to her engrained manners.

Blackagar Boltagon has posed:
There's a widening of the eyes of the two Inhuman guards, looking at Jane in an expression that is surprise that the identity has been uncovered, in that moment, the expressions of the two flatten and there's an abrupt gasp as if a cold douse of water has been poured over them. Looking back and forth, around them, utter confusion is present. "Wha..?" The impact of the mind control erased and leaving the pair completely lost as to what has happened.

Lockjaw for his part growls again and casts a look at Daisy, head bobbing in affirmation. Look at that, he thinks he's people! He communicates well enough and making sure all three of the women are close to him, in contact. Although the danger has passed directly, the opportunity for Lockjaw to simply bamf the three back to their area is present should it be desired. The confused guards blink at one another again then begin to wander back to their station, attempting to sort out what happened, unless stopped.

Jane Foster has posed:
Nothing speaks volumes quite like pulling the curtain open and showing the ghost in the machine at play. The two men so cruelly used can be forgiven their part in the whole miserable play, doubly given their sharp intakes of breath. Other reactions cascade in short order, leaving Jane prone to bristling all the harder. "They had nothing to do with this," she says under her breath to the two Furiae and one very, very good boy. The men might hear it, they might not. If only she shared the same insights with Jemma! They could commiserate together on how terrible it is.

"Can you make sure they're all right? Would that be a step too far? I don't like leaving them this way, it could be damaging." Still, protocols are protocols. For someone who said that she would stand by the requirements of those dictates for Blackagar's sake, she must honour that promise. Even if it truly and utterly sucks, for the moment.

"Do you think we made things worse?" she asks Lockjaw. He has sentience, therefore thoughts of his own, and apparently she will treat him like a smart an individual as he is.

Doesn't hurt she also speaks Dog.

Jemma Simmons has posed:
Is Jane speaking to Jemma? It is uncertain to tell. What is certain, though, is that whatever influence the unseen Maximus had on the two guards is lifted, as the two come to their senses. And...apart from confusion, they seemed none the worse for wear. "You want me to look them over? I...do you think they would allow that sort of thing?"

Yes...human doctor, looking over Inhuman individuals in a society that doesn't like humans in general? Not sure if that flies.

Regardless, Jemma does seem somewhat shaken. Yes....she saw the aftermath of what mind control does. Which of course sets off her thoughts on how exactly she could stop such a thing within herself. If she even can