Visiting Hours

October 14, 2014:

Fenris visits May in SHIELD Medical and also sees Trip and Fitz and Wolverine

SHIELD Medical

Only the best in diagnostic and medical equipment for the world's premier spy and counterterrorism agency.


NPCs: None.


Mood Music: None.

Fade In…

It's been some time since Fenris saw Melinda May last. In fact it was during a chance run in with an old friend named Steve. The last time he'd come to the Triskelion it'd been for him. Today?

Well today it was for her. The Old Wolf has been in Gotham a lot, dealing with supernatural 'poachers' and that necessarily means hearing a lot of Gotham rumors. So when he heard that a certain Asian martial artist had been mixing it up with Clowns and Bats… well he figured he'd pay a courtesy call. She seems a decent enough person and a fearless warrior. And he's sure she'd like to be back on her feet.

Granted, it is a gross violation of building security protocols the way he just rips a Way open in Medical near where May is and steps through, lean and predatory looking as ever. And totally not cleared for this floor.


Once Darcy gave up on FaceBook (on a borrowed tablet) and fell asleep, May no longer felt the need to sit there and make sure the recruit didn't try to sneak off after the others who went to Oktoberfest. Thus, she relocated to 'her' room in the medical ward with ibuprofen and an ice pack. In defiance of doctor's orders she refuses to lie in that damned bed so is instead seated on the sofa in the room, injured knee propped on a cushioned on a rolled up pillow while she tries to complete some paperwork with the tablet she took back from Darcy.

At Fenris' abrupt arrival, the tablet is dropped into her lap and one of FitzSimmons' dendrotoxin pistols is in her hand and aimedat Fenris Wolf the moment he steps through the portal. Of course, as soon as she recognizes the man the pistol is lowered again and she frowns at him. "You're not authorized to be here." How's that for a friendly greeting?


Maybe he just got back from whatever checking in he had to do. Or maybe there's a reason why he's running in, with his pistol already out. He cocks it to show that he's got a real gun, not one of those toys from FitzSimmons. "I wouldn't take another step." Yeah, see, that's the thing about SHIELD. You can't be on an unauthorized floor without the Agents inside knowing about it. And it just so happens that Agent Triplett is on the scene.

Not that Agent May actually needs any assistance. It's May. But Trip'll be damned if anyone else on this floor is going to get hurt by some invader of their space. "Unless, y'know, you don't want to ever take another step." Trip's eyes try to see if they can catch May's so she can give him some silent orders.


Fenris looks from one gun to the other and it may or may not irritate both that he just kind of looks amused. "That is a more true statement than you may ever realize, Melinda May." He says in a deep, resonant voice that is not at all reassuring. He's in a long coat, though an oaken rod can be seen belted at his side and May will recognize the necklace that can, when he wants, become an Unreasonably Large Sword. At the moment, though, it's just a necklace.

"I have not come here bearing arms. Will you not hear why I have come before you decide to number my steps?"


May's eyes flick from Fenris to Trip and she nods slightly, a sort of silent 'stand down', as she puts the 'toy from FitzSimmons' back in its concealed spot between her side and the back of the sofa. "I thought I asked you to enter through the front door if you wanted to visit. Freaks out the locals when you just pop in."


Trip narrows his eyes for a moment but takes a step back, pulling the gun up and raising his wrist to his mouth. "Stand down, guys. Situation normal." Trip very rarely likes to do that SHIELD speech but when he's talking to a squadron of agents running down the corridors with guns and stuff, he might as well use the proper terminology. He doesn't say anything else, but he does roll his eyes just slightly while keeping his pistol out. Y'know, just in case.


Fenris quirks an eyebrow. He doesn't begrudge Trip the gun aimed at him. Of course, in his situation, it's easy not to. "If I tried that, Melinda May, I would still be down there. Or would not have gotten through the front door yet. Your people are very particular about times and appointments and clearances. And honestly, if I wanted the secrets in this building I'd have them already. No wards means no protection against portals, nor against scrying. It would not, in fact, surprise me at all if your organization loses a fair number of secrets in exactly that fashion. But I did not come to discuss the ins and outs of magical security with you. I came because I'd heard you'd been wounded doing good things in Gotham and I thought, perchance that should be recompensed."

Trip gets a glance now. "Is this acceptable?"


Melinda May reacts to Fenris' reason for being here with a frown. "I wasn't in Gotham. That lunatic ventured into New York." And based on her tone of voice, she is looking for a chance to retaliate. With extreme prejudice.


"SHIELD takes care of their own." Trip still is not happy that this dude managed to get through downstairs with ease. He's going to have to have a serious chat with those agents below. His pistol gets holstered, finally, and he takes to leaning against the nearby wall, not wanting to leave May alone with this weirdo and also not wanting to continue posing as a threat. "But thanks for stopping by. Should I have someone escort you out?"


At least one affiliate of SHIELD has some familiarity with the supernatural, the mythological, and the transmundane— partly because all that shit is included in the long list of things that try to kill him. Unlike the other wolf in the room, however, at the very least May knows who he is— and today, he's actually got a nondescript pass on his person. Even if he probably had to rely on a call from security to an ornery Fury at some point during his own infiltration to provide it. It could be the familiar scents that bring him, it could be the one really unusual one, but Logan winds up with one broad, muscular shoulder leaning against the doorframe of the medbay and eyeing everyone in the room in turn; particular attention is paid to Fenris. "We good in here?" The man in the worn leather cowboy hat, tassled brown leather jacket from at least twenty years ago, flannel and denim may not look like an authority figure, especially in SHIELD; but he does kind of act like it.


Fenris turns at the question, curiously looking the newcomer up and down. It's like he's evaluating Logan based on more than just what he sees… which he is. "No, I do not believe so. When I depart I can do so the way I came in." Right though a portal. It's enough to make a counterintrusion specialist cry. "However I was going to offer Miss Melinda May a service before then…"

He turns back to may and opens one hand, palm turned upward. A green light begins to glow above it. "You sound like a warrior born, and I'm sure it wrankles to be held back by such a trifiling thing as an injury. I do not doubt you wish to seek… redress for what this 'Joker' has done."


Melinda May looks at the green glow above Fenris' hand with a mixture of suspicion, curiosity, and … covet? Possibly. "What is that supposed to be?" She kind of suspects, but she wants to hear it from the Wolf directly. Technically, it was the masked kid that bashed her in the knee, but she's completely blaming it on the Joker, for gassing the kid into hallucinating, then making the kid think she was the enemy. But, Coulson did say earlier that SHIELD steers clear of Gotham for 'reasons'. And she knows better than to try and argue 'reasons' with Phil.

Logan's rather abrupt appearance seems to surprise her less than Fenris' did, and she glances over at the Canuck, keeping her hands clearly visible to both men in the room's doorway so Logan can see that she doesn't see Fenris as a threat. Not at the moment, anyway.



He may be Scottish, but he's not a total idiot. Leo Fitz did drink, and in spite of his size, let us once again point out that he is Scottish. This explains why, when he wanders back into SHIELD medical, he's not shitfaced, trashed, or blasted.

Buzzed however? You bet. Drunk? Jury's out for the moment.

Fitz comes walking into medical, with straight footsteps that just might be a bit slower than his usual pace. He stops, looks around, and scratches his head in confusion. A finger points toward a bed, which is empty, then rotates over toward the adjoining R&D lab where he and Simmons work.

"Ummmmmmmmm… Where's Simmons?"



There's a bit of a grunt at the wordless affirmations that no, Fenris is not a clear and present danger to the other agents in the room. Some part of Wolverine seems almost… disappointed? Must be one of those days. He meets the legendary wolf's intent analysis with his own— he may not be the mystical creature that the Asgardian lupine is, but there's certainly more to it than the visual consideration. Or the scent, or the sounds. Something primal, something in Logan that recognizes the formidable predator for what he is without a doubt. The feral runt doesn't move from his deceptively relaxed stance at the door, but the words he speaks are… dubious, to say the least.

"Poppin' in offering folks help with their vengeance?" The snort is quiet, that's about as polite as he gets. "Bet it's a real steal at the price, too." Logan derides Fenris without fear— but the warning is actually for May, a sidelong glance paid to the agent amidst the words. He's known a few bad bargains in his day. He just -eyes- Fitz as the drunken man saunters past him, but makes no move to stop him.


Fenris is about to address May again when Fitz stumbles in. Drunk as a viking after a long night of looting and/or pillaging. Logan gets a glance that's more amused than anything else. SHIELD's secrets must be sooooooooo safe. Antione gets another look too before he turns back to the bed bound butt kicker. "It's magic, Melinda May. I'm not particularly known as a potent mage, but I do have a command of it that's more than adequeate for most things. If you'll permit me, I believe I can set your knee to rights."

Logan's mentioning of a price draws a canine snort. "I'm not pretty enough to be Tuatha, nor cruel enough to be Sidhe. What I offer I offer out of respect to a formidable warrior. The Clown is an incarnation of fear and chaos. To stand against such things with nothing more than a silk sash and courage is a remarkable thing in this world of mutants and marvels."


So that IS what she suspected. May looks at Logan again when he mentions a 'price' for Fenris' magic and the wolf responds with an explanation. Of course, Fitz meandering through the middle of all of this looking for Simmons is a bit… incongruent, but she doesn't begrudge the engineer for seeking out the biochemist that is practically his constant companion. "She didn't go with you and Barton and Romanoff to Oktoberfest?" This is news to her. Of course, she's spent the evening babysitting Darcy and then (finally) elevating her injured knee, so Simmons could be just about anywhere inside the Triskelion. Speaking of, Simmons would be proud. See? Ice pack.


So much serious talk! Normally, Fitz would be impossibly interested in such things. Especially the talk of magic, which of course is scientifically impossible.

His attention is immediately drawn to Agent May, who presents Relevant Conversation (TM). He points at her, thinking for a moment, then smiles. "Yes, in fact, she did." Beat. "But she said she was coming back to the lab to get some work done." Another beat. "Or was it that she should be doing work instead of socializing?"

He scratches his head again, clearly a bit confused about all this.

Eyes divert to May again, and he positively beams. "Is that an ice pack?" He walks over, holding his arms out as if he's about to embrace May in a warm hug. "Jemma would be proud."


"Right. Every dick who ever ran a con had it inborn in their mystical blood." Color Logan unconvinced— but he doesn't intercede or object further, which is definitely something, if one knows the man. Besides, despite the lack of trust, it's not like the Wolverine disagrees with any of the rest of what Fenris is saying. Mistrust is just part of the gig— it's the life he leads. Plus, it's always nice to leave a little room to tell May 'I told you so'. He's one of the few who survives it, so it's best to enjoy it as often as possible.

The old veteran's eyes track Fitz for a moment, considering the tech wordlessly before shooting a final, intent look at Fenris. For posterity. It's likely difficult for most of those gathered, particularly given all their distractions, to say when Wolverine disappears from the doorway, but one moment he's there, and the next he's not— not that he's going /far/ until that spell goes off without a hitch, but he's apparently not the most sociable, introduction-inclined man in the Triskelion.


Fenris indeed does not notice when Logan vanishes. Which is a testament to his skill at stealth. Shrugging he turns back to May after having noticed his absence. "Well?" He won't do it without May's permission not because he can't, but because it'd be rude. He is however strongly considering giving Fitz a jolt of sober. Well, either that or finding some real dwarven ale so the guy can get properly pasted.


Apparently, Fitz is the affectionate sort when he's tipsy. May finds that to be an amusing tidbit to mentally file away for future reference. She also misses precisely when Logan disappears, but she's the least concerned about that of all of them. She's known Logan long enough to recognize his usual less-than-social tendencies, and she's by no means offended by them. She also knows him well enough to know that he's probably one gone as far as the next room over (though if Darcy snores the way she sings, he might wander off in a different direction).

Finally, her attention returns to Fenris. She studies him for a few moments longer, then finally nods acquiescence. "All right, do it."


There is a brief moment where sobriety reminds Leo that hugging May, even off hours, may be a bad idea. That moment is fleeting at best, so he walks right up and puts his arms around her in an entirely brotherly way. No, he's not pasted, but the needle certainly lies somewhere beyond 'buzzed'.

Its a foregone conclusion that he missed Logan's departure. Did he even notice the grizzled Canucklehead? Signs point to no.


Fenris for the moment elects not to kill Fitz's buzz. Why? Because this guy is easily the funniest thing he's seen in days and the Old Wolf is enjoying it. Especially with the straight laced May from the equally straight laced SHIELD sitting in the room with him. "Brace yourself. This may feel odd." No, that wasn't a pun. The God of Puns is not mentioned among the Loki family.

Fenris brings up his hand and words spill out of him in a resonant language not of this earth. Power ripples through the air, distorting it like water and then the light in Fenris' hand streams into May's leg and sets her a-glowing. The light spreads up her entire body, brightening briefly before fading away, leaving the tang of copper in her mouth and a howl ringing in her ears, though Fenris assuredly made no such sound.


… uh, okaaaay… May doesn't really know how to react to Fitz just shuffling over and giving her a hug. It's not a creepy kind of hug either, though very definitely barley and hops scented. Thus, she tolerates it for the engineer's benefit, and to use as mocking material later. Because May used to be known as a bit of a prankster the likes of which even Barton would never be able to keep up with. That was before Bahrain, though, so it's very likely that only a select few (namely Coulson, Fury, and Logan) would remember or have even seen it.

She makes sure that Fitz is well clear before Fenris starts to do whatever he's doing, and as the glow spreads from her knee upwards, she can't help but close her eyes and turn her head away. The residual copper tang and odd ringing in her ears is disconcerting — especially when the noise has no apparent source — but they're honestly completely dismissable compared to the fact that not only does her knee feel entirely normal again (well, except for this damned ice pack), all of her OTHER usual daily aches and pains have also disappeared.

Plucking the ice pack from her knee and setting it aside to similarly shed the Ace bandage, she moves to stand and, yeah. All better. "Okay. That's handy." Of course, she'll never be able to convince the medical staff that she's back to one hundred percent, so that's going to be mildly annoying. At least she's supposed to be released in the morning.


Strange words fill the air, and May begins to glow. The very moment that glowing takes place, Fitz backs the fuck off, hands outstretched in an 'I didn't do it!' gesture. Mouth ajar, he simply stares for a moment, before blurting out, "WOT THE HELL?!"

Completely missing the whole magic thing, he takes three more slow steps backward, staring slack-jawed at May's leg. However, the display of fantastic miracles isn't what has him baffled. A scientist's mind will always look at potential facts.

"I did not drink that much," he declares, before becoming positively spooked. "Oh God. I've been dosed!" He suddenly scampers off and into the R&D lab next door, his shoulder bumping into the automatic door as he rushes in, and begins rummaging about for Simmons' blood sample gear.

He's gonna have a lot to answer for when she finds a sample of his blood, sitting next to those of May and Lewis in their overnight analysis machines.

Blood-Alcohol Content notwithstanding. Let's hope he doesn't shoot himself with the Night-Night Gun and make matters even more humiliating.


"Should I do something about him?" Fenris murmurs as Fitz drunkenly bolts. He has to hold himself back from just laughing out loud. The deep, rumbling laugh probably wouldn't do wonders for his reputation here among the medical staff. May's certification of his usefulness gets a small smile.

"I've been known to be useful from time to time, yes."


Melinda May blinks after Fitz and just sighs. "Possibly," she replies to Fenris as she starts after the spooked engineer to protect him from himself. And it turns out she chose … wisely. Seeing him scrambling for bloodwork equipment, she goes after him more hastily to stop him from ending up making the lab look like a crime scene. "Fitz. Stop." She reaches to catch his hands. "LEO. Look at me."


"Oy." Fitz stops what he's doing and turns to look at May. "Agent May, I… I think something happened. I might have…" He glances about in a paranoid way, then whispers to her, "I may have been drugged! I'm seeing weird stuff."


"Oh boy." Fenris rumbles, stepping up and putting a finger on Fitz forehead. "Somnos." He says in a firm tone. Yes, it's latin not nordic. Fenris has studied magic from all over the world, after all. A flow of power deftly disconnects Fitz's addled mind from his body and puts him into a deep, deep sleep.

We at the Magical Creatures Society wish to caution you against the use of mind altering magic at home. We accept no liability for dreams of pink elephants that may arise from putting drunken friends to sleep.


Fitz promptly slumps to the floor, and within moments, he's curled up in a pleasant, snoring heap.


Melinda May doesn't even have a chance to stop Fenris, and can only keep Fitz from crashing to the ground. She frowns up at the wolf, then moves to try and heft the sleeping engineer and move him to someplace more comfortable than the floor. Before whatever Fenris did, she wouldn't have considered picking the young man up off of the floor, not with her back on the verge of protesting vehemently. Now, though… wait. He did this, he can help. "Well? Help me get him to a bed."


"Certainly, Melinda May." Odd. Fenris seems to like using people's full names. Or maybe he just considers it polite. In either case, Fenris pulls his rod out and waves it at Fitz. The man floats on a cushion of air, escorted by Fenris past the shocked medical staff to an empty bed.


Melinda May can only sigh. The medical staff ARE going to report this. And she's the one that gets to explain it. Thanks.

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