2014-07-29 Identify for Entry
This scene is rated Everybody
Warning: N/A
Players: Phil, Lissandra, May
GMed by Random Acts of Spongebob
Title: Identify for Entry

The Umbra Labs campus in scenic coastal Maryland is quite the sight to see, especially for a series of connected buildings that weren't there just eight months ago. Sweeping architectural lines frame buildings underneath that seem more the standard dozen-floor office blocks. The grounds are heavily landscaped with broad, tree-lined walkways and marked paths for vehicles leading to what are presumably underground parking spaces. Visitors are first directed towards the vehicle checkpoint which directs them to the temporary slots in nearly the exact center of the grounds. Illuminated path borders then lead towards a sheltered entrance that seems to be all window, no hint of a doorframe. The entire window panel is an active video display, currently showing what seems to be a mountain archaeological site in some jungle.

When approached, the window flashes subtly brighter while a synthetic pseudo-male voice speaks out, "Identify for access."

Agent Coulson gives the Machu Picchu picture a glance as he approaches and says, "Agent Coulson. I have an appointment." He is, of course, fifteen minutes early. He arrived in a black sedan and had a driver with him of course, but he told the driver to just wait. He's wearing a navy suit today, instead of the black suit, and is wearing his Stanford tie along with the ensemble. He waits plhegmatically while he is properly identfied.

"Welcome to Umbra Labs, Agent Coulson. Please identify for access."

The window with the scenic picture brightens again in a brief pulse. It seems someone has a Tolkienesque sense of humor.

Agent Coulson doesn't have much of a sense of humor, and doesn't get the joke, of course. He flips open his badge and says, "Agent Coulson." A beat. "From SHIELD." He holds the badge and his ID open at the same time, so the scanner can get them both. His coat of course opens up enough to show off the government issued .45 ACP sidearm. Just the handle of it, really.

The material of the window ripples slightly and separates at the bottom-center like stage curtain. Just past the barrier is a humaniform android styled as a framework security guard with an advanced tech sidearm, possibly a compact energy weapon of some sort, securely hostered. When the voice returns, it's no longer the fake-male-secretary but a barritone woman's voice coming from the android.

"You really should read Tolkien sometime, Agent Coulson. Please follow the guide to my office."

The android gestures then starts walking deeper into the building, past several sections that seem to just be bare-bones construction until reaching a door labeled 'Umbra Prime', which opens at the pair's approach. Inside is a medical lab that makes damn near all others on or near this planet look like 'Baby's First Biopsy' playsets.

Coulson snaps his fingers and says, "Mellon, of course, I should have guessed." Really, he should have. He enters the lab. He's pretty at home in them, been to a lot of them. This one's on par with the bio lab at the Baxter, or pretty close. He follows the android through the halls and watches it with what looks like boredom, but is probably curiosity. He calls out, "Dr. Vorhees?"

There is a brief moment as the android pauses and then returns down the corridor. Inside the lab some speakers spark to life with a typical 'humm-pop' before the female voice emerges from them. "Actually, the answer I was looking for was to identify the picture in the entrance. In this case, Machu Picchu in Peru." The speakers are attached to an thick inclined pillar, which is opening up along the side facing Agent Coulson. Inside is a mostly clear blue fluid and a woman floating inside with various leads attached to the back of her torso. Not much of her is really visible because of all the hair drifting around. Hair that would easily drag the floor behind her if she were walking. Next to the pillar is a high tech wheelchair locked into a docking frame. "I am Doctor Vorhes, yes. I'd like to thank you for finally accepting my invitation."

"Ah, an interactive game, I suppose." He brushes the event aside with the practice of an old diplomat. "Ah, I'm very glad we've finally had a chance to talk…" He gestures around to the lab and the building beyond. "Very impressive setup, Doctor," he says. "I find the architecture to be both fascinating and original… Who was the architecht?" He turns his back to the tube of course, giving her privacy for her transition from medical bay to transport. He'll wait for the sound of the wheelchair moving before he turns around.

Inside the tank, the woman's eyes open so she can look at Phil directly as the fluid begins to drain. "It's a way for me to gauge the humor and personality of the person wanting to come in. Usually I don't open the curtains until they take the hint, but this is a special occasion." The speakers go silent as the fluid finishes draining, the tank opens and the leads and cables attached to her lift her over to the chair. She starts to move the epic amount of hair out of the way while the systems get her situated, then plops the damp mass in her lap.

The question about the architect gets a lopsided, slightly superior grin in response. "I did. Or, rather, I coopted designs from a nonexistant source. Most of it is just empty framework right now, but then this is a shell company." And there is the pause for effect after the pun.

"You can turn around now, Agent Coulson. I've been decent the whole time." Indeed, she is clothed in a form fitting bodysuit that covers her down to mid-thigh. The leads from the tank are detaching themselves from this suit and the chair wheels over to a conversational distance from Phil as Lissandra pulls on a pair of almost elbow-length gloves. "So what can I do for your agency now that you've decided to catch up to me?"

Agent Coulson does indeed turn around, "Never pass up a moment to be polite, it seldom hurts…" he says with just a hint of a smile. "I thought the use of negative space for some of the area was indeed questionable, but that answers that." He says, "I've been instructed by my superiors to evaluate your tech and your team…." he glances dubiously toward the androids. "How many employees do you have here at Umbra Labs?" he inquires. He could pull it from tax records of course, but it's always better to get them on record saying it.

"About fourty temporary contractors to handle construction and grounds keeping. Permanent employees allowed inside? Just me." She nods in the general direction of the equipment around them. "I like to keep things in-house. As for my technology, I'd decided that I'd hit a wall as far as advancing things by myself was concerned. So I decided to create Umbra Labs, chum the waters with some tasty patent filings, and see who took the bait."

Agent Coulson says, "I see… Well, your advances in the field of robotics are certainly interesting. I was fascinated by your work on the implentation of picoscale engineering…" He says, "So… Show me what you've got, Dr. Vorhees." There's a the briefest flash of a smile and he says, "I understand you've done some new things with small arms. Let's start there, shall we?"

"The robotics work is mostly putting an endoskeletal framework together on which to hang other systems. While they do have some autonomous ability, they're mostly remote drones." Lissandra gestures to a side door in the lab and her chair starts in that direction with no apparent action or command on her part. "I'm glad you liked my work from the symposium, even though I wasn't able to give the talk. I hear they're implementing the technology on a few test farms in Nebraska." She leads them through the door into an armory lab equally as advanced as the medical lab.

"While I'm willing to demonstrate my weapons technology, I will formally state that only my non-lethal technology will be made available to any outside agency." There might've been a slight emphasis on the word 'outside' but it's hard to tell.

She picks up a sidearm like the one holstered on the android and offers it to Phil. "This is our current best finished piece. A dual-purpose sidearm capable of firing a variety of 9mm munitions as a secondary use. The primary function, however, is a phased pulse that scans and synchs to the target's nervous system and then puts into a lockdown state."

Agent Coulson looks at the energy gun/projectile weapon combination. "Well, I'm not sure how you'll sell 9mm ammo as 'nonlethal' even if it's a backup system, but if they preform as advertised, I would be impressed. I'd like to see them tested under simulated live fire, naturally." He accepts the handgun and examines it minutely. He turns slightly and hefts it, in a Weaver stance. He breaks the stance and proffers the gun back, butt first to Lissandra there in her chair. "We've been trying for a simliar effect and had some success with a neurotoxin bullet…. but we're still in trials for that design as well."

Lissandra nods as Phil puts the sidearm through the abreviated 'heft test', nodding her understanding when he mentions a neurotoxin round. "Dendrotoxin would be what I would use in that case. Designing the bullet to deliver it effectively would be the hardest part." Her tone suggests that such a design isn't really what she would consider difficult. "Also, the secondary barrel is strictly prototype and alpha-phase models only. Should they ever go to production, that aspect would be removed even though it's no different from any other small caliber handgun out there. But it would be highly effective and can be rated to differrent effective current levels for different markets; civilian, police, military, etc. The best part about it is that it's pain-free. The target's tactile nerves are locked down first, so they don't even feel it when they hit the ground. And yes," she turns to be facing Phil directly in the eyes. "I have tested this." She pauses briefly for him to consider this fact and then gestures to the rest of the room. "Is there any other technology you've been asked to inquire about? Or, perhaps, any other topics you wish to brooch?"

Agent Coulson regards the 'stun pistol' with some skepticism. "So… what about metahumans… have you had any reliable tests on metahumans? What if someoen has a non-traditional nervous system?" He gives her a tight grin at the mention of Dendrotoxin. "We had similar ideas and a tech managed to design a dissolving round. It's much like getting hit with a high tech paintball, was his explanation to me." The delivery system was the real gem of that system.

Agent Coulson sweeps his arm, indicating the whole of Umbra Labs. "I'm here to evaluate *everything*, Doctor Vorhees. SHIELD is currently reviwing your work and we're trying to decide if we want to purchase or license such technology. So… Pretty much here to see…" He looks her up and down in her high tech wheelchair, "Everything…"

"Everything? I'm afraid that's not going to happen."

Lissandra returns Phil's look with one of her own. "There are technologies here that I haven't yet been able to completely work through in operational form. And others that have seriously catastrophic potential that I may never release, even for my own use."

Her hard expression softens again to her professional pleasantness. "However, that leaves 1,607 remaining developments, devices, and broad-spectrum technologies that have a lot of potential to improve things in one way or another." She then shrugs a bit about the initial question, "As for the effectiveness of the lockdown bolts on metahumans, as I said… I've tested them before. On myself. I also conducted five test series on paid volunteers. All of them were baseline human with a variety of neurological states. The lockdown bolt is the easy part; a variable matrix energy pulse. The complicated part is the targeting system that regulates it. But that's a learning system. Even if the first couple of hits don't work, the third or fourth one will."

At her refusal, Phil's expression turns a little, he frowns slightly. As always in situations like this, he feels the extreme temptation to just railroad Dr. Vorhees, declare her lab a 'hazard to national security' and have analysis pick through her systems and files and so on, like termites taking down a sequoia. The slight frown, though, that's all that shows.
"I respect your opinion on the matter, Doctor, and we will of course, take every precaution with this information. However, if such technologies are that unproven and that dangerous… this is exactly what SHIELD is concerned about…"
There's a dead silence for a moment. Just a beat. Then he continues:
"Doctor Vorhees… I will do my best to respect your privacy with regards to these matters, you are, after all, the expert here, I'm merely the analyst…" He turns toward some other project and says, "And a recruiter…" he drops casually.

There is a moment where Lissandra is listening to Phil's heavy handed words. And then there is the tiniest crack as her lip twitches upwards and she laughs softly. The shaking of her shoulders, however, hints that the laughter would be much louder were she not taking the effort to be polite to her guest. "Merely the analyst. Oh, that's rich Agent Coulson. As if SHIELD would send anyone in who they didn't feel was capable of handling any forseeable contingency. Your driver and vehicle are, so far as I can asertain, capable of backing you up admirably. And you aren't exactly here with just a sidearm and your not inconsiderable conversational skills, either."

Lissandra's chair adjusts itself so that she's in more of a supported standing posture, the better to put her and Phil on a more even eye level. Her expression is that of someone who would very much like to get their point across to someone that might just be of similar mind. "You're here because I wanted to see who would take the bait I was dangling in the wind. I'm glad that it was SHIELD who was first to the plate, although my sources say that there are others sniffing around.

She lowers her eyes and then raises them again, looking like someone who's letting a weight loose. "Since the symposium attack, I've been trying to work through everything that happened to me. This place and everything in it is the result. I very much want it to be put to use by the right people, but please be certain you understand this: Nothing here gets used by anyone unless I come with it. I know that no technological genie can be kept contained forever, but I intend to be the one controlling the cork. So," she tilts her head to one side and grins like a sorority girl. "It's good that you're here also as a recruiter."

Coulson's frown turns into a bit of a smile. "I'm very glad to hear that, Doctor. So… here's the play… we, with you supervising, bring any and all technologies you are willing to eventually sell to us and the nations of the UN security council… We are at a potential rubicon in history, Dr. Vorhees. The white papers…." He shakes his head, not wanting to say more, but he put the teams together that wrote them, so he had a hard time arguing with their findings.
"So… Show me what I will have to make space for." This is an eyes only mission for Coulson. He's just fine with though. "We probably don't have room for the armored destroyer vehicle… but I'll want that tested eventually as well…" They walk through the facility, with her showing off and talking about this bit of tech, and that bit. "When can I see the exoskeleton, Doctor?"

Lissandra doesn't outwardly react to Phil's mention of something called the 'white papers', but she certainly files it away mentally. "Well, first off I very much like the inclusion of the word 'sell' in your pitch, Agent Coulson. While my intent in dropping my bits of bait were to find an organization that I would be able to join, putting this sort of thing together does tend to turn bank accounts into hard vaccuum quickly."

And then she's laughing hard but quietly yet again as he mentions something "Wait… armored destroyer vehicle? I don't have one of those," with an implied 'yet' left dangling at the end of that statement. She gladly continues with the tour as they talk, with most of the separated rooms being filled with manufacturing equipment of various kinds instead of finished prototypes. When Phil asks about the exoskeleton, she takes them past some other doors to pause outside one at the very end of the lab section. "That's in here. Along with what will likely turn out to be my largest, and potentially most controversial program."

She goes through a multi-step security verification proceedure involving the dropping of two armored barriers, an energy field, and a short downward elevator trip. When they arrive at their destination, it is revealed to be a fairly cavernous room in three parts: In the center is what is likely the facility's power core. No hint as to the principles behind its function, but that in itself is a hint since it doesn't resemble anything otherwise existing.

To the left of the elevator is a section that is plainly the construction and testing bed for the mentioned exo-frame systems. Not the same as, for example the Iron Man armor, it's more of an open frame with bare attachment points and a seemingly overconstructed section around the legs.

To the right of the elevator, and taking up most of the circular section around the power core, is an area filled with inclined support tanks identical to the one Lissandra was in upstairs. Although they are currently empty, their silent presence speaks volumes in its own way.

Agent Coulson follows her, evaluating her security as he goes along, roboticized, biometric, the voice print recognition software. "Do you have a built in stress test detector for the voice check, Doctor, and what's the percentage tolerance?

Agent Coulson doesn't say anything more about the armored destroyer vehicle that's still on the drawing board back in one of the labs. He looks at the reactor if it is indeed a reactor and is puzzled. "This is unique… Have you applied for any patents with it yet and how does it work?"

"Four-point-oh-seven allowed variance. That makes allowances for mild vocal shifts due to illness, but stress-induced variance gets picked up on. Of course, all of it is also dependant on the proximity of my internal systems along with the biometrics. That way no one can use pilfered prints, dna, or voice recordings to bypass security."

Lissandra reaches behind her head to part the waterfall of hair there and show the covered external ports to her cybernetic systems along her neck and upper spine. "Each verification step also queries my implants. And no, I haven't filed any patents for the core. That would require putting the technology's existance out into the view of anyone looking. And I doubt that having exotic matter generators based on gravitic manipulation of metalic hydrogen out for just anyone to use is something SHIELD would want."

Agent Coulson nods. "We only allow a 2.1 variance, but the 2.1 to 4.03 range is set as an alert, rather than a 'halt'. That way, a supervisor can make the call to send someone home, if possible."

Phil bites his lower lip. "Not… yet." he agrees. The potential is of course, world changing, but, will the old world order accept the new. A problem for another day. "Fascinating. I don't need my sunglasses in here or anything, do I?" He says this with half a smile so it's clear that he's teasing a little.

He glances accross the support tanks, counting them. "How has your health been since the Symposium, Doctor?"

Lissandra grins with the sunglasses joke, "I doubt it. The core only glows if it's about to explode." Her tone matches Phil's for the joking content. She watches him do his mental count of the support pods, there are fourty in all, and shrugs to his question.

"Overall, my health has been improving, bordering on excellent. Minus the obvious reduction in my mobility of course. But those tanks aren't meant for me. They will have their own occupants once I've finished modifying the gestation and implantation programs." She looks at Phil and has obviously anticipated the obvious follow-up question. "And no, it's not for cloning, precisely."

"I'm pleased to hear that about your health, Doctor… You seem to be adapting to your limitations beyond expectation." He listens carefully as she continues and then responds.

Phil stops at that statement and turns, crossing his arms, looking at the tanks, thinking, then turning back to her. "So… they're not for you and they're not for cloning… precisely… That sounds like we might be moving on dangerous ground here Doctor."

He is, of course thinking that she might be moving in the direction of sensible, but ethically proscribed genetic manipulation. He swallows slowly. Perhaps he's wandered into the lab of a mad scientist after all…

"What, precisely, are you implying?" he asks, diffidently.

"The story of technology is the story of adaptation, Agent Coulson. And since the symposium, I have basically become technology personified." Lissandra knows that's a bit dramatic, but it does seem to fit what she's become. She also watches his reaction to her statement about the tanks and offers him what she hopes is a reassuring look. "I'm talking about non-sapient remote piloted biodrones. Enhanced doubles that would enable the linked rigger to act in ways or locations that would normally be to hazardous, without requiring them to be implanted, themselves." She gives him a chance to process this information before continuing. "I'm certain someone of your occupation could think come up with plenty of other uses for that sort of thing… and could just as easily understand what I meant by 'potentially controversial' and 'something I'm going to be keeping my tightest lid on'."

Agent Coulson has his listening face on, eyes riveted to Lissandra's lips as she speaks. Ordinarily, he's blase about the incredible, but this… this actually makes him arch an eyebrow at her in near disbelief. "The possibilities are… (There's pause here, where ordinarily Phil would not have a pause as he tries to think of the right word, and finds that there is no adqueate word…) Intriguing." Yeah, that's about as boring as he can make it sound, but his brain is naturally racing about, considering implications, and his brow furrows in thought. "I hereby classify this information as Eyes Only and Need to Know, for your eyes, my eyes, and Director Fury's…" He's not even going to inform the President about this… That might be dangerous.

Lissandra allows herself a moment of pride as she manages to stymie the unflapable Agent, but shows no surprise at all at Phil's reaction to the implications of the biodrone technology. She simply nods her agreement and then gestures back to the elevator. "I'm going to take a wild stab and suggest that perhaps we should return to the surface levels. Perhaps take a drive or grab something to eat?" She leads the way back up through the security layers, which do not make it any easier to get out than it was to get in. On the way, she asks another question. "You've been doing a bit of dancing around the questions you have, not about my technology, but about me. Please, ask them directly. Since it seems we've reached an accord on my joining SHIELD, it's only polite to give direct answers to direct questions."

Agent Coulson gestures for the good doctor to preceede him to the elevator and says, "Agreed. I feel we may need to beef up lab security, regardless of it's present state of excellence." He says, "It's not so much as dancing about questions, Doctor… I can't come out and just ask you, "Are you a person of good character? Are you loyal, and true to your word? How do you deal with conflict and so on… This is not exactly a traditional job interview…"

They continue onward and he adjusts his tie. "Your technical bona fides are geniune, Doctor, your personal references are all glowing, and your reputation as a problem solver preceeds you. That said, what are the limitations and needs I would have if I wanted you to be an active Agent, and help me evaluate these technologies in the field… I like you Doctor, but I'm not just going to up and propose to you…" Phil, the ever cautious.

Lissandra did insist on direct questions. And she does not interrupt but rather waits for Phil to finish as they exit out into the main lab corridor. "Well, I have the means to make myself fully mobile for short lengths of time by using my exo-frame to bypass the physical damage to my spine. In this case, 'short lengths' comes to roughly four hours before risking serious neuromuscular damage. Also, my chair is almost as mobile as a normal person, although it obviously takes up more space than one."

They pass the lab Phil first met her in, with 'Umbra Prime' on the door and she continues. "I can drive or pilot almost anything on the road, waves, or air currents. I'm a more than fair marksman. And the abilities I gained as a result of the symposium attack make it possible for me to gain insight into any tech discovered in the field, which is what I thought you were going to ask about when I mentioned direct questions."

The not-glass window at the entrance ripples open as they approach. Lissandra seems to feel the need to get some sun.

At the mention of abilities, Phil slows, clearly the file was lacking some intelligence. "Our files aren't… well, the're not very complete where your new, abilities, are concerned Doctor." He still can't decide if recruiting her is a great idea or a horrible, horrible idea yet.

"Anything you want to disclose to me about your abilties here in the privacy of your own labratory?" He is very discrete after all. At ground level he can use his communication gear once more and tells his wrist mic that they'll be rolling out in 45 seconds. He then looks at her chair, and thinks about the sedan. "We might have to take your wheels, Doctor, I'm not sure your chair will fit in my sedan."

Lissandra grins at Phil's admission that there were some things that she managed to keep to herself. But that sort of thing doesn't last, so she's choosing how the information is learned. Kind of what she does these days. "Well I'm sure there are some notations in that file posing the question of just how someone whose primary focus has always been the bio-sciences started suddenly coming up with the tech behind those patents I filed as bait. To put it in its shorted form possible: if I touch tech, then I /KNOW/ that tech. Inside and out. Subatomic to manufacturing and macroprogramming."

As Phil talks into his comms then mentions how well she might not fit into the car, the chair starts to shift, panels and bodywork compressing and forming itself against her body so that the most bulky part are the wheels. "I don't really have any casual driving car, Agent Coulson. But honestly, my hair takes up more space than my chair."

Agent Coulson chuckles a bit and says, "I'm sure we can make room for both then, even if we have to give you the entire back seat." He ponders what sort of tactical liablity her hair might pose in any given situtation and then decides that her impaired mobility kind of trumps that little issue. "So, you're the local, where's a good place for lunch?"

It almost seems like the moment and Coulson and the new recruit stepped out of the building, a matte black SUV pulls up to a stop in front of the pair. The driver, an Asian woman with sunglasses concealing her eyes, simply turns her head to look at them.

"Miss Shirley's, on West Cold Spring Lane, just off I-83," is the immediate answer from Lissandra on the question of good eats. "It not bayou cookin', but it still mighty fine." Lissandra's own usually hidden bayou syntax and accent slip into her speech as she talks about food. As they approach the SUV, she takes note of the driver and how she was right before about Phil having solid backup. Once the door is open for her, she faces away from the SUV and her wheelchair extends its compressed frame backwards to place her in the seat. Then the wheels lift from the ground and form a closed framework around her legs. "I'm sure the address is in your GPS."

Agent Coulson, will, of course, be a gentleman, since she's not officially recruited yet, and hold the door for her. He'll get in the back seat next to Lissandra and put on his own sunglasses, brownish avaitors with a dark chrome cast to them. He slides his seatbelt on, closes his door and says, "I'm sure it is… Miss Shirley's, if you would May?" He gives May a cheerful little smile in the rearview mirror and turns to Lissandra. "So… You're interested, I'm interested… We both have issues. What's it going to take here to get a deal done. I want you on our team and to ensure our military superiority in the age of the Hulk."

"Main thing is that nothing goes out into general distribution without my approval. I'll have a better idea how my tech can aid SHIELD once I've had a chance to see how you do things." Lissandra seems to have put some thought into this already, but she did indicate that she'd been expecting them at her door for a while. "For my part, I don't use SHIELD resources to perform any experiments without approval. I keep things in-house as far as distributing my tech. SHIELD always gets right of first refusal, and anything that Director Fury asks me to keep a lid on gets locked down."

She checks to make sure her gloves are on securely and that she's keeping any exposed skin from touching the vehicle's surfaces. No point in taking a chance on random contact with new devices. "I'd also like to not be cooped up in a dark site lab, or anything other than a mobile lab whenever possible." She grins at Phil through the rearview mirror. "I've been getting the urge to stretch my legs, as it were."

May nods very slightly to Coulson when he indicates where they're wanting to go, and they're off. Luckily it's a pretty short drive and no one tries to interrupt them so they get there quickly enough.
You are empty-handed.

Agent Coulson and she talk a little more. "So… what's the monthly overhead of Umbra Labs? And funny you should mention mobile labratory. That's really what I'm looking for right now. I've got people right now, but they're just good. You might be something entirely different. You are probably exactly the person we need for an in the field technical expert on both biological and physical sciences." He will, of course hold the door for her while her chair converts and close it behind her, as they swing into the resteraunt.

Lissandra is obviously a regular as she and Phil are quickly shown to a prime table already set up for her to sit at in her wheelchair. Lis exchanges pleasantries with the host and makes a few suggestions on the menu to Phil. She avoids continuing their conversation until the initial seating bustle is concluded, then smiles. "One could almost think that you came here knowing exactly what to say to get me to sign up, Agent Coulson. And overhead on the labs? Initial outlay was about fifty-seven million for construction, faking the design paperwork, raw materials for the labs, that sort of thing. But since then it's mostly been a matter of time and paying the property taxes. Ballpark, the labs cost about thirty thousand a month all things considered. Most of that goes towards maintenance and repair on the two mobile labs and the mobile command lab."

May pulls away again the moment Coulson closes the door of the SUV after Lissandra, going to park nearby. It's still several minutes before she actually enters the restaurant proper, sidestepping around the host at the door with only the barest sketch of a smile and heading toward the pair still chatting. She claims a chair at the table without asking and simply gives her fellow agent a look when she pulls her sunglasses off. Perimeter is clear.

Coulson's eyeflick said, Message recieved. It really was like telepathy the link between the two. "That's a bit lower than I originally estimated, but I hadn't counted on your… power saving strategy being as effective as it would be." He accepts the waiter's reccomendations, except for cocktails. He'll just take water with lemon, even though he's not driving. He tucks his own sunglasses into his breast pocket and says, "My ballpark figure was fifty thousand a month. I'm glad to hear I was wrong." That would mean an extra 20 grand a month to spend on a surviellance/reaction team at her lab. He does more math in his head. "If you were to accept a position on our mobile team, you'd be paid as a rated governmental employee, with of course, full medical vision and dental, as well as life insurance for your heir or heirs." He knows the salary he would pay her would be inconsequential to her in the long run, if she sold her designs to SHIELD. "So… 1608 current projects, with a … fifty seven million capital investment…" His tongue goes up out of his mouth on the side and his eyes go upward as he figures aloud. He shuts up as the waitress brings back drinks and offers to take orders. Phil will go with the special of the day.

Lissandra orders a 'Shirley's Affair with Oscar' when the time comes, adding monkey bread and fried green tomatoes for starters and going with sweet tea to drink. She listens to Phil's rundown of the various benefits, nodding when he mentions the lower cost. "Having the lab on its own utilities helps a great deal in that regard, yes." She smiles and drinks her tea as Phil goes his figuring, looking to Agent May as she sits down and gets, well not really comfortable, but present. Even Lissandra can pick out a few halmarks of a solid operative. And the passive sensors in her implants and chair certainly help her make that kind of asessment.

May also asks the waitress for water, but without lemon. Her voice is neutral and seemingly emotionless as she also asks for the daily special. If one were a sci-fi nut, they might consider checking her for pointy ears. Her eyes flick toward Lissandra and then to Coulson again, perhaps another silent conversation. Is this one for HIS mobile team?

Agent Coulson's eyebrows answer May, "Potentially." He twitches slightly brushing a thread off his jacket. "Opinion?" He thanks the waiter for his water, switches with May because they got it backward, occupational hazzard sometimes for Phil, but he doesn't complain, just moves on. "So… other than reinventing technology on a daily if not hourly basis, what is it that you want Doctor Vorhees. I get that your company gets solven, you personally get vastly wealthy with just a few governmental contracts, but that's just business. I need to know what gets you out of bed in the morning, on that morning after a really long, hard grueling day, and gets you going to light the fire for your day…" He looks over to May as if to say, "Well?"

Lissandra nods her agreement with the part about the money just being business. When the big question comes, she just locks gazes with him and states very calmly and quietly, "I want to know who sent a kill team after me and why. I want to know how they had technology that in some ways is more than five thousand years beyond what even the most optimistic futurist could predict. "Her gaze drops slightly for the last part of, "But mostly, I just want my legs back full-time. Everything else… the research, prototypes, even the particular thing downstairs… that's just icing." Then she adds her own silent expression to the ones passing between May and Phil, one that simply asks 'What's the verdict?'.

May takes a sip of her now lemon-free water then very clearly focuses her attention on Vorhees. She watches the woman as she explains her motivations, waits for a second or two after the inquiring look, then nods to Coulson once. She's willing to give the scientist a shot. She'll either work out, or she'll end up at SHIELD HQ doing the mind-numbing post-mission science stuff instead of being out on the front lines. Really doesn't matter to May either way at this point in time.

Coulson nods to May using only his eyes, and smiles at Dr. Vorhees. "I have to caution you against using SHIELD or SHIELD resources for anything so petty as Revenge, Doctor Vorhees. We of course want to know who staged that attack as well, we consider them terrorists at the point and enemies of the State. But I will simply inform you that under no circumstances are you to be involved in any phase of any investigation run or overseen by SHIELD at any time, for any reason. You understand, of course." The waiter pulls up with everyone's entree, serving Lissandra and May. He looks at Phil, looks at the ticket, back at Phil. "I forgot your order, sir… so sorry." Phil just waves him away to listen to Lissandra and watch May watch the delivery of her Crab Cake & Fried Green Tomato, Egg's Benedict and Lissandra's Shirly's Affair with Oscar. Phil says, "Hold on a moment, Instead of that, I'll have what she's having." He points to Lissandra's dish. It does look mouthwatering.

Lissandra starts to make serious inroads in her food as soon as the first plate is set down after a brief, "Thank you, Brian. And please give Brigitte a hug from me, yes? Or tell her to come out and give me one, herself." To Phil's words about revenge and staying out of investigations she just gives a shrug/head-tilt combo and nods. When Phil swaps his missing order for a copy of hers, her grin widens and she cuts off a portion for him. "To tide you over." Then there is only the food, which is given the attention it deserves.

Phil accepts the morsel with a gracious smile and spears a bite of the dish, and digs in. For a time, there is only the quiet of eating. Phil glances over to May as if to say, "Culturally, I think she's a good fit." Then he looks back at the filet with hollandaise, his expression saying, "That hollendaise was prepared in Asgard and I must have more." Occasionally he'll take a sip of lemon water to cleans the palate for a 'clean palate' bite. It isn't long before they take care of him as well, any friend of Lissandra's must be important.

May has never been picky about food — except Chinese — so she's content enough with her selection. Of course, a good Eggs Benedict is always a treat. And since Coulson changed his mind, if so much as /thinks/ about snitching a taste of her food, she'll stab him in the hand with her fork. Again. And then, finally, as their meals are nearly completely decimated, she addresses Lissandra directly. "So. When can you start?"

How the folks here feel about Lissandra is shortly made evident as the previously mentioned Chef Brigitte does come out after the trio has had time to properly appreciate their meals but before they've actually finished. The promised hugs are exchanged along with some brief smalltalk, then Lissandra arranges for some take-away to be ready.

Once the table is settled again, she finishes her meal and when Agent May speaks up she smiles, "I can be mobile within twenty minutes of getting back to the lab. I don't have much in the way of baggage these days. I'm going to take a wild guess that transporting one of the mobile labs won't be much of an issue?"

Coulson looks over at May and says, "You can give her the tour. Wheels up in 45, then I guess." He turns to Lissandra. "We already have a very finely equipped mobile lab. If we have serious equipment deficits, let us know, and we'll get it from the lab." He turns to May. "We'll take her to the Bus, you show her around, and I'll drive her back to the lab, pick up what she needs, and meet you in 44 minutes." Then they're out the door and on the job.

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