Owner	Pose
Melinda May	Time. Space. Reality. It's more than a linear path. It's a prism... of endless possibility, where a single choice can branch out into infinite realities, creating alternate worlds from the ones you know... Somewhere out in the night, Uatu the Watcher gazes down on a world similar to and yet so different from the one where Peggy Carter fights to keep her husband Daniel in the 21st century. It's a world where Steve Rogers was grieviously injured before he could become the super soldier, Captain America. In that world, Peggy Carter took his place, becoming Captain Carter -- a woman and a warrior who proved to be the Allies greatest weapon against the machinations of the Red Skull and HYDRA in WW2. Eighty years later, she's still fighting that war, albeit it in a different form and with different allies...                              --------------------                               Late night -- as always. May can't remember the last time she had an early night and got to sleep through it. Not a surprise, really. Not with the way the fight against HYDRA has been going. Since Carter's emergence from the temporal gate several years ago, there has been a signficant uptick in HYDRA's activity in the world. So much so that the world now stands on the brink of WW3... with HYDRA and those countries it has brought under its control on one side and NATO/NORAD and their allies on the other. The state of the world at large isn't immediately on the old solider's mind, however, as she stands in the small ops station in the outpost buried under mountains outside Geneva. She stares at screens filled with analyses of their most recent mission against HYDRA... into an old base deep in the Alps the Allies thought they destroyed near the end of WW2. She doesn't really see the information scrolling past. No, what Melinda May is thinking of right now is the fact that the whole thing just seemed too easy. People died, yes. People were injured. But still... too easy. She rakes her hands through her short-cropped hair, pulling the longer strands of her jagged bangs out of her eyes. Turning away from the monitors, she crosses to a small sideboard and pulls out a bottle of amber brown liquid and a small tumbler. She sets the tumbler down and pours a couple of narrow fingers of liquid into it before she picks up the glass and turns back to look at too bright screens with their nonsensical data.
Melina Vostokoff	"...Does it really help you think clearer? I can't remember what the stuff really feels like, but I do think I recall it's something to help forget, not remember." Peggy's voice comes out of the back area of their little base, not asleep herself, but at least she's finished a shower and gotten all the various splashes of blood (and other bodily fluids) off of her from the fight. Even this many decades later, she's a hands on fighter. Just her, her shield, and as many nazis as she can take out with her bare hands. It means she gets messy. Really messy. Smelling of fresh soap and with her muscled, thick arms bare, she comes up behind May to look over the files that the woman is considering. "...Still trying to figure out where they're getting their numbers, are you?" It's been a puzzle since Peggy returned. It's one she dreads the answer to, considering how unlikely her return was as well.
Melinda May	"I've had too much tea," May says, turning to give Peggy a wry smile as the Englishwoman enters the ready room. "Over caffinated." She lifts her glass. "It may not help me think clearer, but it will cut the stimulant buzz." Sort of. Hell, it's just an excuse and they both know it. It's also late enough... no one else is likely to criticize. She swallows a mouthful as Peggy susses out her thought processes. "It doesn't make any sense. And with talks at the UN breaking down... We need to find a way to plug that hole."
Melina Vostokoff	"We have to *find* the damn hole. As far as I could tell, it closed when I came back. I still don't know if there are more holes opening places we've already destroyed them, or they are managing to reopen it and transport people where they need them. But the fact that these bases in the bloody *Alps* have returned is telling me it's not a hole... it's... many. We have to stop whatever is causing them and send it all back." Even if it means her going back as well. She knows that. She's said it once before, but Peggy doesn't care to retread that thought again. She sinks down to resting on the edge of one of the tables, one she knows is solid enough to take her weight, and reaches up to steal May's whiskey bottle. She might not be able to get drunk, but she still misses the taste, and she'll steal a few sips to simply make the night taste a bit more pleasant.
Melinda May	"Yeah," May grunts, lowering herself into a nearby chair. She's been on her feet too long today. "Fury and Barton said the same thing. Foster and Selvig said the portal you came through was powered by some sort of cosmic energy, but they haven't found any more traces of it. Not on that level." She waves to one of the screens where a graph of some sort forms and fades and forms again. "*That*, though, says that there are traces left in that damned base. Just like there have been in every base we've found thus far. So, why aren't we finding the surges ahead of time?" She scowls fiercely. "They have to be masking it somehow."
Melina Vostokoff	There is a mix of anger and guilt in Peggy's features. No matter the world, the time, who she is, there is always this level of quiet, consistent guilt that seems to back up all of her life. If only she'd fought a little harder, had a few more answers, finished the war faster... Maybe they wouldn't be here. That guilt flares up again as she hears the news about the cosmic emergy and the traces of it. She just knocks back the whiskey hard and pours herself another glass before handing it back to May. "I really wish this stuff still worked on me." She admits with a a little huff, nose hovering over the glass, like the scent of the next shot could help her relax even if the consumption cannot. "You've been at this too long. We both have. Your eyes are going cross... do you really think you're oging to find any thing tonight?"
Melinda May	"No," May admits. She swallows another mouthful. "But here's as good a place to brood about it as any. Not like I'm going to sleep any time soon." She gives a tight smile. "Post-mission adrenaline, you know. And Andrew's back stateside." She kicks her feet out, one black booted ankle crossing over the other. A breath flows out of her. "So. If there's no indication of masking technology in the bases themselves when we tear them down... they've got to be using a portable device. Right?" It's just throwing stuff at the wall to see what sticks.
Peggy Carter	Peggy nods towards the back room, the place where there are a few couches, almost a make shift lounge. It's as close to comfortable as they get in their little base, and the couches are all from thrift stores which have seen far better days, but it's better than nothing. "Come on. Away from the computer. We can spin up ideas just as easily getting you sauced on a couch as we can here." Then Peggy stands up straight, a little hiss to her lips. She'll be healed by morning, but she's got several ribs which are quite unhappy with her now and a few butterfly bandages which she's not being kind to. Now standing, she scoops up May's bottle of whiskey and gives it a little, tempting shake, before she leads the way back to the couches.
Melinda May	May snirks, though it's more a laugh than anything else. Rueful, even. She hauls herself up out of the chair and wanders with Peggy down to the far end of the room. Yes. The whiskey is tempting. Especially as she downs her last swallow from the current offering. "At least, when I pass out, the couch will be more comfortable." Having said that, Melinda May has not particularly shown alcoholic tendencies quite that bad. She's usually able to stumble her way back to her quarters well enough. Only the really bad nights require a full on stupid drunk session. This... wasn't a bad night. Annoying, yes. Something of a waste of resources, perhaps, though it needed to be dealt with, certainly. But not horrific. Waste of resources, though... "If they keep materializing troops out of thin air, we're quickly going to find ourselves fighting a war of attrition at best."
Peggy Carter	"It means we need to recruit. Oh god, don't tell me I need to go on a bonds tour again..." Peggy's eyes roll to the ceiling, remembering all too well the first time she had to get soldiers and money for their cause. She has a headache thinking about it. She settles deeply into the couch and stretches her legs out before her, getting as comfortable as she possibly can with bruises and lingering injuries. She then leans forward, just enough, to pour them both another dash of the whiskey before settling the bottle on the table between them. "How *is* Andrew doing, by the way? We... could find room for him out here, you know. If he'd be willing to come..."
Melinda May	May smile fondly. "He's doing well -- all things considered, at least." Picking up her glass for another sip, she shakes her head mildly. "He's better off in New York, though. He's no soldier." And, so far, the Continental US has proven fairly secure. "Besides, Fury has him working on something. I don't know the details. Need to know only." She shrugs, kicking her feet back out again, this time on the couch. "It's keeping him busy, though."
Peggy Carter	That makes Peggy's nose wrinkle a little bit. She still has a few old fashioned ideas about relationships and 'need to know', which is generally everyone in one should know. "Fury's being an arsehole about that. Even if you can't tell *me* or anyone... He should be able to tell you. But... Fine. We've been over this before. Fine. As long as you are both happy." Peggy is cranky and clearly rather over protective. But she always is. "You want some leave? I can put in a good word for you, get you a few days back home..."
Melinda May	Given how much of May's career has had to be Need to Know, and separate from Andrew, she can't really begrudge him the same operational security. But, then, she was raised in a different time and place. "Stop," she says, though her voice isn't harsh when she says it. Her hand flips dismissively. "I'm fine. He's fine. We're fine... Besides..." Her dark gaze glances back across the room to those glowing screens. A bit of her momentary good humour fades. "There's too much work to do here." So, she shakes her head again. "No. He'll be in Geneva early next month, speaking at Humanitarian Affairs. That's only a couple of weeks away, now. I can wait." Perhaps a little impatiently, it's true. "I'd sooner save my leave for Lily's wedding."
Peggy Carter	A small grunt of acknowledgment escapes Peggy's through as Melinda goes so serious on her. She gives a slight shrug of those bare, built shoulders, and just sinks a little deeper into the couch, using it like a chaise lounge now. "Fine, fine. I just... I don't want you to miss your whole life fighting a war, is all." Peggy might be projecting just a *little* bit. But then, she lost everyone and everything for 70 years. She has reasons to know regrets. "God, yes, the wedding. I half wanted to tell her to dash off and elope, it'd be safer. But I'm... glad we can all be there. We need a few nice things nowadays." She rubs one tired hand against her forehead, fingertips lingering at the edge of her temples. The headache will leave some day.
Melinda May	"I'm just as glad she's not." May says with a soft smile. "Hawai'i should be lovely. And, frankly, I've missed enough. I don't want to miss this, too." That's the problem with being an agent and a mother. She and Andrew made it work, yes, but that didn't mean it wasn't tough and didn't involve considerable sacrifice along the way. She doesn't regret everything about it, mind. Only a few things. But she can't set aside the fight against HYDRA. None of them can. She chuffs out a rough breath, refusing to pursue that line of thought -- especially now that the whiskey's out. "You know me," she says with a mild shrug in the end. "I can't sit on the sidelines. It's not in me. It's not in Lily, either. Long as we keep moving forward, it'll be fine." Which, of course, is why being stymied by HYDRA's recent activity is so maddening.
Peggy Carter	Peggy's now nursing her whiskey. It won't do a thing for her and she might as well leave the bulk if it to someone who it might help to sleep. She just wants the flavor on her tongue and the scent in her nose. She keeps it near to her face, cupped between both of her hands, like it was a hot chocolate keeping her warm on a cold night. The commentary about missing things gets a quiet, understanding smile and a slight tilt of her head in agreement. "Yes, this is true. And she doesn't want you to miss it either. No matter what happens here, we'll get you to her. I *promise* that, Melinda. Even I need to fly over the polar ice caps to get you there, I'll make it happen. Then she'll be on her honeymoon and back on the front lines with us here before no time." She's trying to keep the positive attitude, despite everything. She can see Melinda's faith faltering.
Melinda May	May gives Peggy a small smile at the promises about her daughter. "You're assuming she won't fly the icecaps herself," the senior agent says, a certain pride in her eyes. Lily Gardner is easily as good a pilot as either she or Morse. Regardless, May's not really worried about making it to the wedding. She still concerned about all that data on the glowing screens at the far end of the room. She takes another swallow of whiskey, but sets the glass down beside her -- not quite ready to get drunk, tonight. Hell, unlike Peggy, showered and changed as she is, May is still mostly in her battle dress. She wanted to understand just what the hell happened... that took priority over just about everything else. Not that she's discovered anything.
Bobbi Morse	The sound of 'Goddamnit' echos down the hall for a moment as Mockingbird angrily hangs up on Hawkeye. Her hands form fists for a moment. How is it that man manages to get under her skin so easily. She reminds herself it's the stressed. The svelte blonde presses her lips in to a line and walks out to the command area.     She's still in her battle gear. Black domino mask across her eyes framed in gold, her white body suit hugging her with the black on the outside and trimmed in gold. A cape hanging from her shoulders in black with gold lining too. Around her thin waist, a golden belt full of pouches and an M for a buckle. A pouch strapped to her right thigh with her staves stowed and bracers around her wrists with popup ICERs.     The powerful wings are hidden underneath her cape right. She peels the mask off of her eyes and runs her white gloved fingertips through her hair. "Please tell me someone knows where the hell all these squids keep coming from."     She tosses her mask on to the command table and rubs her eyes. "I need a drink." Hardened by her years as an Avenger ever since the attack on New York. The decision to quit shield when all their secrets were leaked when HYDRA revealed its ugly head was not one she took lightly. Her Avengers family stuck with her though.     "Sorry, language, I know.." she says with a small laugh and rolls her eyes. "I just don't get it. What are they printing HYDRA goons now? no recruitment activity for years yet they've got mooks up the wazoo." She eyes the whiskey, "Can I have some?"
Peggy Carter	Dark eyes turn up from her useless whiskey and it's only now that Peggy realizes May still isn't even changed or showered. She finally puts her glass of whiskey down and moves to shift back over to the maps. "If... if you want to go jump in the shower, at least, maybe put on something you didn't fight for your life wearing, I'll keep going over this... See if we missed anything. I'm not tired yet anyway. Might as well do something with whatever brain I have left." She gives May a reassuring, encouraging smile, nodding for the back room doors. She won't give up working, she promises. Then Mockingbird is marching in the room, also still in her gear and swearing up a storm. Peggy smirks as Bobbi self corrects, but seems enough in a mood that she might almost be cursing herself. Though, she tried to keep a 'good reputation'. For the people, know you? She pushes the bottle of whiskey in Bobbi's direction and then leans a bit deeper over the war table. "Am I going to have to add 'Get out of uniform and shower?' to the post-mission orders every time now, or do you all sleep in these things?"
Melinda May	As Peggy pushes the whiskey bottle over, May gestures to the sideboard from her place on the couch at the far end of the room. "Tumblers are in the third compartment." Not like Bobbi doesn't know. She drags herself to her feet, anyway. "Are you telling me I stink, Carter?" she asks, a brow arching faintly, humour in her eyes. She doesn't doubt there may be some of that. On the other hand, she didn't get nearly as messy as Peggy did... this time. Usually, May can be counted on for her share of bloody knuckles and broken faces. This time, however, she was running a sweep team, sliding in behind Carter after the Captain cleared the way. Their goal was to try to isolate whatever tech was providing the cover for the squids... They failed in that, though that doesn't mean they didn't find a few interesting things -- some not-quite wiped hard drives and strange fragments of glass surrounding an unusual apparatus that, even now, has been dragged into FitzSimmon's lab for analysis. "Far as any of us can tell," she tells Bobbi with a weary shrug, "The bastards are materializing out of thin air. So... no. No idea."
Bobbi Morse	Bobbi catches the sliding bottle in her hand and says, "Thanks Cap, you're a life saver." She wanders over to the compartment and takes out a tumbler, pours herself a glass, then puts the bottle back down. She walks over to dart board and pulls the three darts sticking in to a blurry picture of Arturo Malevolo.     Taking several paces back, she throws, right through the left eye, then right through the right, then the third one right middle of the forehead. "I'm getting sick of losing. Once upon a time we were good at kicking HYDRA butt, but lately it's like they're ten steps ahead of us. Every time."     Truth is, her uniform is a bit of a comfort blanket at this point. Dr. Barbara Morse is an almost forgotten memory. She's Mockingbird through and through and that may have something to do with the tension between herself and Hawkeye.     "Hey at least I'm not wearing the armor," she says with a smirk at Peggy and then waves her hand in front of her nose to May playfully. She smells fine though. The whiskey meets her lips and her shoulders visibly relax.
Peggy Carter	"We wouldn't be sharing the whiskey if you were in the armor. Can operate a vehicle intoxicated and you're a *tank* in that get up." Peggy is only half teasing there. She has her own iconic suit these days, but seems just as fond of getting out of it as quick as she can once a mission is over. She doesn't like living in the suit, for reasons she should probably talk to someone about. Someday. No day soon, though. She watches the shots at Malevolo's picture and gives a little chuff of air through her nose, shaking her head as she looks down at the map, "Look, May, I'm telling you, these aren't out of *thin air*. These bases were here before. We just destroyed them. Burned them. Cleared them out... they were removed already. They're just coming *back*, somehow. But I've seen maps like this before. Hell..." Peggy breathes out, stepping back a few feet to stare at the whole picture, "...if we could get the old SSR maps from 1944... I bet they'd near match." Then she dares sneak a half smile in May's direction and a deep breath through her nose before picking up her whiskey again, "I didn't *say* you smelled, but...I'm going to stay over here with my whiskey, is all."
Melinda May	"Oh, I believe you," May tells Peggy as to the link to old bases. "We took out that one in Bogotago back in the early 90's. I carpet bombed the place myself." The little South American country saw a resurgence in HYDRA activity six months ago. SHIELD has been chasing these pop-up bases ever since. "All the SSR stuff is in storage, still. Maybe you can sweet talk Director Stark into pulling it out for us." It likely wouldn't be very hard. She snirks openly at the follow ups to her joke, turning back to pick up her whiskey glass from the side table and bring it over to the command table. "What I'd really like to do is figure out where they're going to pop up *next*."
Bobbi Morse	She shrugs her shoulders, "How about worst case scenarios then? There's the Red Skull's World War 2 base of operations. There's Whitehall's 'Look at me I'm a bond villain now' island base. There's List's 'I swear i'm not a fan of Return of the Jedi' jungle base' ..." she ponders a moment, "There's also that freaky sphere base under New York.. though that was AIM not HYDRA and so far none of the old AIM bases have come back."     She takes a long drink of the whiskey, knocking it back, then pours herself another. She waggles a finger to Peggy and says, "I'll have you know i'm ferfectly pine tiloting my pank"     She snaps her fingers, "Ooh let's not forget the cloaked pyramid in Egypt by.. uh.. what was his name? ... oh how about Zolof at Camp Lehigh's ye olde SHIELD bunker."     She twists her lips a moment and shrugs, "Hey, just throwing it out there. May be it's time we prepare ourselves for the worst case scenario. Some how Red Skull comes back in to existence. Or..." she shudders a moment, unable to bring herself to say the named HIVE.
Peggy Carter	"*Sphere base under New York*? What in bloody *hell* did I miss??" Peggy asks with a bit deeper a groan, leaning forward and sinking into her toned, build shoulders, so she's just a line of muscle with her hanging down in front of the horizon of her back. She sighs. Many things have changed for Captain Carter, but her guilt hasn't. "So... it's a good idea, though, both of you. We make a list of every HYDRA base we know from every mission -- you two work on the things that happened before I... you know. I'll get the SSR and the Howlers work from storage and start mapping out. Then we cross reference with what's already reared it's head. Once we know which ones are, so far, missing... We start sending recon in backwards order of the biggest headache to the least." There is no asking if they think it's a good idea. Peggy knows it is, and she's used to commanding a team in the field. She says jump, people ask how high. "That all being said, can I convince you BOTH to change and rest a bit before we go hunting for headaches? We're not going back out there tonight. There's enough bloond on all of us tonight." Peggy showered it all off. There was a lot, she needed to -- she still doesn't feel totally clean.
Melinda May	"Oh, nothing serious," May quips to Peggy, as to what she's missed. "Giant mechanical centipedes, self-replicating spider bots, and a psychotic fembot who thought she could become a real girl if she could just find the right James Bond to love her." Or something like that. It was a weird mission. "We lit that place up like the fourth of July." The offhanded way she says it, of course, belies just how tough a fight it was. But, as Morse says... they haven't seen AIM bases popping back up on the radar. Yet. Still, as 'Cap' outlines her idea of what the plan should be, May gives a simple nod. It's as good a plan as any they've got. Peggy's tendency to lead doesn't typically cause a lot of conflict between the pair. May's more interested in what works than ego stroking. Always has been. She snirks as Peggy pushes them once again towards showers and fresh clothes. "Alright, fine," she grunts, fuzzling her short-cropped hair with a rough hand. "I'll go shower and change. But I'll want more whiskey before this night is out."
Bobbi Morse	A small noncommittal shrug is given to Peggy at the request for her to shower. "No promises. At this rate action could break out any second." Her tongue pokes lightly in to the side of her cheek and she takes a sip of her second tumbler of whiskey.     It's as good a plan as any. She hasn't been much of a 'follow orders' kind of gal since she left SHIELD. Speaking of, she looks to May and asks, "So.. how's the new SHIELD? Sick of Tony yet?" She grins a touch more. Director Stark.. of all the people to pick up the mantle and right that ship. It makes sense.. he has the heart for the job and the vision. Still, they miss him in the Avengers.     "Oh when is Tony going to have my Mark IV ready any way?" she asks about her armor upgrade. With the fights against re-imagined HYDRA the Mark III has been taking a lot of heavy hits. This, she asks, as she turns to head toward the showers and to leave 'Cap alone with her thoughts. As she rounds a corner her voice raises, "Oh! don't forget the Bermuda under sea base. That place was a blast."
Peggy Carter	"I'll make sure there is *some* whiskey left for you, Melinda. I'll even get the shield out to defend it, if I must." Peggy is saying that last bit more so teasingly in Bobbi's direction than towards their other somewhat exhausted colleague. She then groans as Bobbi starts asking about Stark. She doesn't even need to be asked, she just carries the bottle over and pours May one more shot before the woman considers Peg's orders for a shower. "I remember Howard talking about this crazy dream. Some place for everyone, not just who the US and the Brits decided they liked. Neutral. Protecting the whole world... It's no surprise his son ended up taking command of the thing. And he's got a... slightly better head on his shoulders than Howard did. Slightly." While Peggy hasn't spent that much time talking about the past, it's only been a handful of years. Half a decade since she lost everyone and everything she knew during the war. There's times they've both caught her staring in the middle distance, lost in memories older than both of them. Peggy takes an abupt shot of whiskey, straight from the bottle, before handing it back to Morse. "And seriously... I'll get started on the map. This will take us at least 12 hours. You both need rest in there."