Owner	Pose
Bobbi Morse	The subtle pressure of a pistol to the back is hard to misplace. It's almost cliche, but then this is 1948. "If you know what iz good fur you, you will come vis us," says the man behind her. It's not like they were being particularly stealthy. They can't even manage a proper American accent. They certainly aren't German spies, the German spy network is still in shatters post-World War 2. However, HYDRA was still very much a thing. They had adapted to being global and in hiding post-war very quickly. The problem though, is that there are seven of them.. and there are pedestrians on the street. It's public and people could get hurt. The men are flashing their overcoats to show their pistols on their hips. They are presenting this as a chance for a friendly chat. But it's HYDRA. A friendly chat by their standards usually involves torture. "Be a good girl and move zis way," he says. The scent of his breath is a mixture of sausage and beers. With a nudge of the pistol barrel directs her to turn down a quiet alley way. It's not a great space to fight; then they 'encourage' May to enter an abandoned warehouse.
Melinda May	May's hands rise, clutch hanging from one wrist. While taking out seven men is not beyond her considerable capabilities, a street full of evening pedestrians complicates matters. Not to mention the fact... it's 1948. Explaining this to the local constabulary is a non-starter. She already knows that. Especially given she's just left the SSR headquarters. Thus, wordlessly, she moves with him towards that warehouse. Because, really? If you're going to throwdown with a bunch of swing-era Nazis, where better than an abandoned warehouse.
Bobbi Morse	HYDRA. Well, that won't do. HYDRA aren't allowed to get in the way of Dottie's fun. They become the fun sometimes, but if this new stranger from China has managed to vex Peggy.. well.. that just makes her the most interesting person in the city right now. Not to mention she walked away from that implosion and walked out of SSR after, presumably, breaking things. Dottie's a fan. The seven men enter the warehouse and surround May. The man with the gun gives her a firm push and says, "Now you vil anzer our questions or bad things will happen to you." Dottie walks in behind the group, "Oh so sorry, I.. I thought this was the new Macy's. Huh! whoops. You men wouldn't happen to have any~" The Several turn their attention and guns upon Dottie. She holds up her hands, "Oh my. That's so..," her voice drops from cheerful play to deadly serious, "Boring." She moves in with a quickness on the first man and strikes him in the throat, then uses his body as a shield as one of the other HYDRA agents shoots at her.. which shoots him in the back.
Melinda May	May has no clue who the blonde with the cheery accent is. And when she strikes the first man in the throat, she decides she really doesn't care who she is. Her elbow shoots back into the solar plexus of the man behind her, and the back of her fist slams into his nose. He drops his gun, gasping for air, and manages a strangled cry when his nose shatters. She grabs him, much as Dottie grabbed the first man, and puts him between her and the nearest shooter. It's not a hard choice, really. Him or her. After that, of course, all bets are off and the fight is on. She shoves the man into the fellow shooting at her and proceeds to disarm and smack him down, too.
Bobbi Morse	Dottie ducks out from behind the shot hydra agent and throws her knife under arm directly in to the throat of the next nearest HYDRA agent. Then she takes the gun from the man's hand she's using as a shield and swings around the other side of his hulky body, which is rapidly turning in to dead weight. She shoots once, twice, two more HYDRA agents drop. The other two HYDRA agents move in on May. One shoots and like moments before repeating, shoots his fellow HYDRA goon. The seven agent rushes to May with a tackle to try and take her to the ground. There is a *thunk* as Dottie lets her man shield drop to the ground and points her gun at another of the HYDRA agents, but doesn't pull the trigger.. curious to see how May handles the last two.
Melinda May	The man slams into her back. May moves swiftly with his momentum. He goes flying, slamming down onto his back with a thump. Her foot lashes out, kick nailing him in the side of the head. With her heels? Yeah, he's not getting back up. Then she spins, arm snapping out to catch the man's gun hand, keeping it away from her body. Her other hand flies up. His wrist snaps. He screams. She snaps a pair of knuckles into his throat and then slams his face down into her knee. Like the others, he's done.
Bobbi Morse	Dottie has a light in her eyes and her mouth slightly open with delight. She just saw somebody fight, properly, here in America. This is a rare thing. This backwards land of barbarians has been very predictable until she met Peggy Carter. Now it seems every year presents something new and exciting. "Wow, that was amazing," Dottie says again and tosses the gun on to the ground carelessly. Peppy Dottie has returned. She steps forward and offers her hand, "I'm Darla. Darla Sykes. Such a pleasure to meet you. I confess, you looked like you needed a friend when these nazi nitwits poked you in the back with a pistol. So rude. Welcome to the big apple." She does an exceptional job of looking genuine.. genuinely impressed with May? probably true. Genuinely friendly? for now. She can't be SSR. SSR don't fight that well .. yet. "Say you wouldn't be interested in getting a coffee would ya? I know a place, around the corner."
Melinda May	May dusts her hands off on her coat and smooths her skirt before flipping the wool fabric closed. Her brows rise some at Darla's effusive praise. "Thanks for the help," she says. The smile she offers in return is polite and reserved. Perhaps that's not odd for a Chinese woman in this city. Nevertheless, she glances around at the unconsious and dead bodies. She's not sure she trusts this strange woman who's intervened -- it seems a little convenient to her, like a honeytrap, without the sex. Who says May's not a suspicious old woman? Nevertheless, she considers the offer and decides that, maybe, getting to know this woman who can identify Hydra so effectively and fight the way she can isn't a bad idea. She doubts Darla is SSR. There's no way Peggy could have fixed someone on her that quickly. (Besides, she knows damn well Peggy will come herself.) But it can't hurt to see how this plays out. "Coffee... would be great," she says, that polite smile remaining in place and given just enough warmth to suggest that she's decided to trust Darla Sykes. "My name is May."
Bobbi Morse	"You seem like you're having quite the day. Coffee's on me," she says and offers an arm loop to walk with her out of the warehouse and around the block to a small diner. Leather seats in cherry red, waitresses wearing festive seasonal green dresses and white aprons. There's a Christmas tree set up at the far end. Dottie suggests a booth at the back. It's a spy's choice for sure. "I surely don't think I've ever seen someone handle themselves like that before," she says with a tiny little shrug and another happy smile, "But you have to tell me- who do you work for?" Her eyebrow raises and her polite expression remains, friendly even, though it's clear she is being more serious, "Your accent is _exceptional_. I'd almost believe you were born here." From her purse she takes out her purse, putting two quarters on the corner. A waitress come over with cups and pot of coffee. She pours and then sets down menus and pats the table like it were a puppy, "Just give me a whistle when you want to order." Dottie replies, "Thanks hun, you're a peach." She looks back to May with interest, "Not just anybody gets the attention of the squidsquad."
Melinda May	May plays the reserved, demure, polite Chinese woman, now. She tries to imagine what her grandmother would do, recalling small, telling habits that speak to the era she grew up in and the games she liked to play with... well, yes. White folk. She suspects the routine will work better on the waitresses than the woman across from her. That Darla is a spy of some sort is obvious. May doesn't need to be an expert profiler to know that sunny act is, indeed, just that. An act. A very beguiling one, and likely well suited to the time, she has to admit. But May has never been that easy to fool. And, unfortunately, she trusts precisely no one in this era right now. Not even Peggy. Which puts her in a serious bind. She positions herself, unsurprsingly, in a way that lets her keep an eye on the rest of the restaurant, even if it's only via reflections and casual movement. Darla will recognize the technique, she's sure. That's fine. She considers telling her she really was born in America, but decides that's probably not going to fly. "I've had lots of practice," she says simply, instead. Given she's probably fifteen or twenty years older than the woman opposite her, it's also entirely true. Her smile turns secretive, like a friend ready to confess a crush. "I'll tell you, if you tell me," she says when Dottie asks who she works for. Because, really... she's going through a mental list of who could possibly be employing this woman. The SSR is possible, but so remote a possibility it hardly bears consideration. Maybe another US government alphabet soup agency, but they employed far fewer women on American soil than foreign agencies did. The Brits and the French probably don't have good reason to be poking their noses in so obviously, but it could make for a convenient sting for them to capture a Chinese spy on American soil. Feather in their cap and a strengthened bargaining position. So, again, she won't discount it. Russia strikes her as highly likely, given the era -- if only because she's one of the few who's seen glimpses of Romanova's file. She's heard of the Red Room. She read the report on the nitramene implosion and the hunt for Howard Stark. Too bad there weren't any surviving photos. Red Room or not, Leviathan is possible possible. Russian intelligence, even outside of Leviathan, even more so. Darla could be German, left adrift after the war and looking for payback. In that case, why take out the other agents? Aside, of course, for gaining her trust. May wouldn't at all be surprised if Hydra sacrificed agents that way. Which means Ms. Sykes could indeed be Hydra. There are way too many possibilities here. "How did you know they were Hydra?" Her first clue was the bad accents and guns coupled with years of finely honed 21st century paranoia, but hey. That's just her.
Bobbi Morse	Dottie gives this expression of 'my you are thinking hard aren't you', "Oh hun don't get yourself all in a tizzy 'cause of lil' ol me. Darla's a free spirit." She wrinkles her nose. The act is good. She's practiced. "I can do whatever I want to do," she comments casually. Not at all true, she is always on a leash. It's not a physical one, or goons watching over her shoulders. No, it is indoctrinated deep within her psyche. There's a small pause and a small almost smug little smile, then she leans in and whispers softly as if sharing a secret, "Their shoes. They're German." There's a wink and she leans back. "There's always a tell, like how you're using that there napkin dispenser as a mirror because you're worried someones going to come up behind you." "Be a doll, relax, I've got the entrance way covered." A small chiding shake of her head. "Whatever you need, I'm sure I can oblige. I know you're not going to get much help from the..." she covers her mouth on one side and whispers, "S. S. R." "Heck I bet they're wondering if you're one of them communist revolutionaries," she says with a raised eyebrow. It's her best guess, she's throwing it out there to see if it sticks. The SSR is probably wondering that right about now too though. "I don't judge, everyones got a weird line these days."
Melinda May	May laughs lightly, though she doesn't truly relax. And she knows damned well Darla wouldn't relax, either. Darla likely isn't relaxed now. She just has the advantage being a native to this time. "We work for the same people, then," she says pleasantly. "I left my employer a long time ago." Like some seventy odd years in the future. She adopts a knowing look as Darla mentions the SSR. That explains a lot. She must have been watching the Telco building. The question is, why? "I guess Agent Carter just didn't like my face. Some people are like that." Such a pity, isn't it? "There seems to be quite an infestation of Hydra in this city. The SSR really should do something about that, don't you think, instead of accosting perfectly civilized women off the street."
Bobbi Morse	Dottie's eyes positively light up again when May says the magic words -- Agent Carter. "Are you telling me you found one the agent in the building who isn't a total square, and still managed to upset her?" A cheeky little grin, "That explains how the goose stepping goons found you then. They must have followed you." Like she did. The thought of May working for Leviathan briefly amuses her, or she being a Red Room agent. Never, but still some what amusing. "Well we're just a pair of entrepreneurs then. I sure hope you have some place nice to stay," she adds. "Don't waste your time playing the SSR game on SSR turf," she says, itching for an excuse to play cat and mouse with Peggy again, "You have to catch them off guard, on your own terms." She takes a sip of the coffee finally and says, "I'd be happy to help. You've got moxie, but it seems you don't really know the lay of the land."
Melinda May	May can't really argue with Darla about dealing with the SSR. She knows she was optimistic in hoping Peggy would actually listen to her. She's pretty sure she'll have to write her friend a letter and leave it with a lawyer to be delivered in seventy years. It's the only method of communication she can think of... and it's not at all reliable. "It doesn't take much to upset Agent Carter," May says with a casual shrug. "She's a lovely woman, but very British." She cants her head now. "What's your angle in this, Ms. Sykes. Why do you want to help me?" There's no harm in asking, even if she doesn't expect an honest answer.
Bobbi Morse	Dottie chuckles and says, "Oh I'm just as curious as a cod on Christmas." She reaches in to her bag nonchalant like, not even concerned it might put May back on edge. "There I was just taking some lovely pictures," she continues, leaving out the part where she first had to reverse pick the lock of the car and escape from its boot, "when who should I see." She places a photo on the table of a hooded figure in the shadows at the Roxxon Chemical plant, post devastation. Dottie thought her mission and involvement with Peggy Carter must be over. Her cover was completely blown and it seemed like trust wasn't going to be further earned. Then, this lovely opportunity just dropped right in to her lap. "Like I said, you've had an exciting time. Besides, Peggy and I go way back. We're practically best pals. If it's Peggy you want to talk to.. on your terms. Well, I know _just_ how to make that happen." There's almost a wicked little smirk on her lips. Almost. The hints of one. Fun comes in many flavors after all. "Here's a little secret you might not know about our darling Carter. She doesn't listen to a word you say until she's out of her comfort zone."
Melinda May	The worst part is that May knows, in this case, Darla is right. She's watched Peggy deal with any number of touch-and-go situations. She's a pro... and always requires an exceptional amount of convincing to trust someone she perceives as an enemy. For good reason! Once upon a time, May thought that was a fine quality in her. Right now? It's just annoying. Still, she regards the photo Darla shoves in front of her. Her eyes narrow slightly. At least, her body is mostly hidden. Which means the more obvious aspects of her contemporary attire are hidden. She chuckles softly in a you-caught-me sort of way. "I was curious," she admits. "As, I think, were you." Can Darla really blame her for that? "I thought I'd at least give Agent Carter a chance to collaborate with me. Since she declined, I suppose I'm on my own."
Bobbi Morse	Dottie lets out a small gasp and places a hand on May's gently and says, "Oh no hun. Us ladies of exceptional violence must stick together. Even if Peggy doesn't realise it yet." Another small little smirk. "But you're not on your own now. No, we're friends now. Coffee, cake, the works." She offers her pinky finger to May, "Pinky swear. You and me against the world of man." This female empowerment is not a concept native to the USA. Certainly female agents struggle under male domination - the war really flipped things on its head but now the war is done, the men want power again. But not in the USSR. Not for the communist. They have a different kind of misogyny. Equal but different.. "Besides, think of all the fun we can get up to. You can handle yourself, I've seen you in action. So delightful. And hey, this city ain't too nice to our kind if we don't have a baby in a pram. The height of accomplishment here for us is secretary. That just doesn't settle my wandering heart," she says with an almost whimsical look on her face.
Melinda May	It's a dangerous game, May knows, to engage with this woman like this. There are too many unknowns. And the woman's apparent interest in Peggy doesn't actually bode well. But she has to laugh again as Dottie outlines a woman's place in this era. "Now imagine being my age and ethnicity," she says sweetly. "I have better things to do with my time than wash someone else's laundry." Taking down Triad is always fun. But she doesn't say that. She won't pinky swear, though. That's a little too... Just Too... for her. But she does chuckle fondly and risk patting the woman's hand. "I think you like Agent Carter," she says after a moment. "At the very least, you've played with her before. I have to confess, I don't care if I play with her, here. I just need to understand what they found at that plant."
Bobbi Morse	A small smirk as she withdraws her offered pinky. "Very well. I understand," she says almost dryly and then finishes off her coffee. "The plant. They'll get bored with it in a day or two. No attention span. Then Peggy will get upset about it and investigate on her own," she says with a touch of amusement. With a swish of her hand, "And then you too can quiz her on what she knows." But now she is sure there's something particularly exciting at that chemical plant. The explosion was the big give away, but what she suspects is a Chinese spy there too makes it extra interesting. Not to mention, then opportunity to mess with Peggy again. She wipes her lipstick off the rim of the cup with a napkin and says. "I think I'll be seeing you around May. You'll see, we're going to be best friends." There's a playful wink and she stands up smoothly. "Enjoy the coffee. And.. keep in mind the frogs don't care what they break. They're like bulls in a store." There's a positively excited bounce in her step as her mind races about all the different ways she can hook Peggy back in to her games. She has so much potential, if only she didn't take everything so seriously. It's not like the word will end.
Melinda May	May smiles, watching Dottie fairly skip her way out of the diner. When the woman is gone, she leans back and the smile fades from her lips. She reaches up and rubs her aching face. Only now does she reach for her coffee. *Seriously, Carter,* she thinks. *How the hell did you survive this place?* Finally, she drains her cup and pushes out of the seat, leaving another fifty cents for the waitress... just because. Is it a large tip? She has no idea. But that's what Peggy left earlier. So, what the hell. Her walk home is a far more cautious one than what it was already going to be. And come morning? She's totally investing in pant suits and proper boots, not to mention a more period-appropriate sidearm. Skirts and blouses be damned. Clothes shopping. Gun shopping. And the Library. Probaby in that order. Time to start finding her own way home.