He flipped a dumpster on me

Summary:
February 27, 2015: In which Lunair infodumps some of her latest HYDRA-related mishaps, including that she totally got dumpstowned.

Triskelion Building - May's Office Thinger

It's an office thingy.


Characters

NPCs

  • <Name of NPC or "None">
  • <Use same pattern for all npcs>

Mood Music:
[*<http://insert.video.or.music.link.here>]


When May's report detailing the information Lunair brought to SHIELD is made available to the higher-ranking agents, there's an almost immediate response and May contacts Lunair with a request to return to the Triskelion at her convenience to discuss the metal-armed man again. Upon her arrival, she's escorted to a small conference room and left there to wait. It's only for a few minutes, though, as May arrives not too long afterwards. "Lunair. Thank you for agreeing to this meeting."

Just behind May is another woman who would probably smirk if someone called her 'petite'. Natasha Romanoff is not really well known outside of SHIELD, but Black Widow does come up now and again. The less anyone hears about her, the happier they probably are. She closes the door behind them and glances over Lunair with, apparently, mild interest. There's a sharpness in those eyes, though, that is hard to ignore.
Stepping around the table, she inclines her head. "We do appreciate it," she agrees.

Lunair doesn't seem to mind too much. Life's kinda weird these days (she just met some X-men and learned that family trees are now transcending times and realities and frankly, it's a wonder her head doesn't explode like Scanners sometimes). She lets herself get escorted, and looks around. She seems curious, but she knows better than to wander. She also seems to like most of the SHIELD folks she runs into.

Lunair smiles politely, waving to May. "Hello. And you're welcome." Maybe someone in SHIELD got a dumpster flipped on them…?

Melinda May glances to Natasha then takes a seat so it doesn't seem like she's trying to loom over Lunair. "Agent Romanoff is our resident expert in all things Russian." That sounds convincing enough, right? "She read the report about the man with the metal arm and wanted to ask you some more questions about him." And with that, she lets Nat take command of the 'interview'.

Settling in herself, Natasha gives Lunair a bracing, friendly smile. "I've read the report," she agrees. "But I'd like to hear your account of what happened. Where were you when you saw this metal-armed man?" It really is just going to be a nice, pleasant, friendly conversation. One where Nat doesn't show how tense she is.

LOOM. Whew. Lunair is quiet, looking between the two. When not working at it or genuinely, intensely feeling something (and even then, it really is hit or miss), she doesn't seem to show any sort of emotion on her face. It gives her a distant sort of look. She nods. "Sure. I honestly don't know a whole lot, but-" She'd give what she had. Revenge is sweet! Or at least, very helpful.

unair looks to Nasha, smiling politely (there you go). "Okay. Well… the first time, I soooooort of had a friend's report on the location of a small HYDRA thingy - nest? Group? Place? Hideout? Whatever. A small HYDRA occupied place, and I really am tired of being chased around, so I figured I'd help a bit and go bother them. It turns out it was a gym kinda place." HAIL HEART HEALTH AWARENESS. "Weirdly, they had snipers ready for me or something. I almost got shot opening the door. So I went in and prepared myself, when there was this guy with a metal arm doing some sort of training with them." She stops to let them interject or ask.

Melinda May nods encouragingly to Lunair and gets up again as she starts to go back over the first time she encountered the metal-armed man, going over to a pitcher of water and fills two glasses to bring to both women still seated at the table.

HYDRA. That confirms a few things. Natasha nods, a smile crooking the corner of her mouth. "Most people would get backup before running into a hideout full of HYDRA." She might not, not necessarily, but she's not most people. The mention of him doing training with them, though… the corners of her eyes almost seem to freeze. She nods once. She's not taking any notes. That might seem odd. But she nods her thanks for the water and takes a small sip. "Did the shooting tip them off?"

"Probably. " Lunair is alarmingly cheerful and cavalier about the amount of destruction she gets up to. It's just her job and what she does. It's nothing personal, not a vendetta. She just has grenades and by gum, they are /useful/. A shrug. She smiles and considers Natasha's words. "Yeah, usually. But it was just a small one. I didn't think they'd have snipers over a /gym/. I guess they were serious about their thighs or whatever," She really isn't sure.

There's a curious look. Did something shift? Hmmm. "Oh, thanks." Hey, water! "I mean. I didn't see him at first. It was only when I got a little inside. There was like, electrical stuff, and some training stuff." HYDRA: Serious about CrossFit? "And they seemed super, duper loyal to him. I shot him when he started coming after me, I guess to tackle me. His arm was metal with a red star. I remember that. I couldn't see too much of his face." But one might not fault her for gazing deeply into Bucky's eyes when they were shooting at one another. "They were sacrificing themselves to let him get away." Pause. "And he did, despite my friend sticking knives in him. He ran into the women's bathroom and just kinda vanished from there. We didn't follow." She probably should've, but Luna doesn't have a deathwish. "Also, the weirdest part of that fight was when this Cyborg guy flew in, and metal arm guy just swung him back around at us like NOTHING."

Melinda May nods back to Natasha before going to pour a third water glass for herself, and then finally returns to her seat. "I don't think we specified before. Who were your friends that were there with you?" She's already suspecting that one name will be 'Trent', but she wants to hear it from Lunair directly.

Hair color and length, eye color — all those things are a bit useless. He probably hasn't changed his look all that much.

"Who is your friend with the knives?" she inquires, nodding as May seems to have the same questions. "And this Cyborg-guy you mention? Is that his name or just what he looks like? How many of those men were there, give or take? Just an estimate."

Sip. Lunair pauses. "Well, Trent was there. Ripper, one of the local Gotham heroes, umm… That was roughly it. Some gangsters popped in, and it was kinda chaotic. I think they meant to fight at the club down the way, actually. I think there were a couple dozen or so. The Cyborg guy was trying to help us," And Lunair will describe Cyborg. Hoodie, dark skin, robobits… "Ripper used the knives, but Gotham has a weird katana trend and it really weirds me out, to be frank." Like, what is with all these white teenage dudes with katanas? Misplaced turtles nostalgia? She'll never know.

"The HYDRA guys shouted in Russian. They seemed really bent on helping the metal arm guy get out. Not overtly suicidal, but if they couldn't keep up with him, they turned and fought."

Melinda May nods seemingly to herself. She'll have to touch base with Trent about this, see if there's any more detail that he can offer. "I'm still waiting for details on this training location. There are agents at the location doing surveillance before entering the building proper." She doesn't mention that she's pretty sure they'll find nothing of use, but still. No stone unturned.

Glancing over at May as if to confirm that the woman at least knows who Trent is, Natasha nods slightly. "If you don't mind, I could have one of our agents sit with you and get some descriptions of the metal-armed man. The Cyborg; that at least sounds

Glancing over at May as if to confirm that the woman at least knows who Trent is, Natasha nods slightly. "If you don't mind, I could have one of our agents sit with you and get some descriptions of the metal-armed man. The Cyborg; that at least sounds like someone familiar.

She takes another sip of water. "Did you recognize anything they said? I don't suppose you could repeat it, or at least the sound of it?"

"I can give you the address again, I think." and to be fair, Gotham is kind of a pain to do surveillance in for most folks. Lunair pauses. "I can try to describe him again, sure." Nod. Lunair hmmns at the question. "Sorta." She'll try. "It was hard with the gun shots but they said something like-" It's mangled a bit, but one can pick out the words 'for teacher' and possibly 'die or fight for'. "They were kinda mad at me at the time." A lil'. "I really don't speak any Russian, sorry." Headshake.

Melinda May doesn't know if Jericho can speak Russian, but she sure wouldn't put it past him. That's added to her list of mental notes. "What happened after the metal-armed man got away?"

Another faint nod for Natasha. There's the faintest curl of her little finger at one of those words in Russian, and she takes a deep breath. "Did he say anything, the man with the metal arm?"

Another sip. Lunair replies to May, "We got out of there. The gangsters fled, my friend had been stabbed, so I took him to get help." She looks to Natasha. A thoughtful look, then a nod. "I couldn't quite understand - he was trying to come at me or something. Like, tackle me. But…" The words 'get out or die fighting' are about the most she got out of it all. "I can't tell you any more than that, sorry." Frown. "I'm not even entirely sure." It's probably almost painful for a native speaker to hear Russian mimicked like that. "So don't quote me completely. It was a little less weird than when I saw him in new York, anyway."

Melinda May nods slowly. "If you could, I think we might want to speak with your friend Ripper." She doesn't mention wanting to talk to Trent, because she can get in touch with him more than easily enough.

That's possibly something Natasha's heard about as well. That, or she's just not making mention of it.

Her eyebrows raise, though, both at what she remembers the metal-armed man saying and the fact that she's seen him twice. "What happened when you met him in New York?"

A wince at May's request. "He's… really, really paranoid. He puts up with me because I kept running into him and could probably put holes in him. But I'll try." Nod. "He's not a bad guy, he just … lives in Gotham. A lot." Paranoid, armed. Yeah, that's Gotham survival skills.

Lunair looks to Natasha. "Well, I was kinda bored and running some errands, when I saw this police van full of Russian guys - and I don't mean that in an offensive way - they were all shouting in Russian - raiding some drug house or whatever," She starts. "But they were not actual cops or something, because a bunch of people went after both sides. Me, I kinda got distracted on my way to find a perch…" She was totally not going to play dueling RPGs with Winter. Really. Cross her heart.

"And I saw metal arm guy also moving across the way, so I decided to follow."

Melinda May raises an eyebrow briefly. This is aleady more detail than she's gotten last time. So it's a good thing that Natasha asked for this follow up. Of course, she's also just now realizing that this kid has a serious lack of self-preservation skills.

Things happen to Lunair when she's bored. …Makes sense. Natasha knows what that's like. "This happens wwhen I do my grocery shopping, too. Minding my own business and all of a sudden, gang battle. So, a van full of Russians raiding a drug house. Was our metal-armed friend in the van?"

"I had my armor on, and I ran around some cover," She DOES have some self-preservation skills. She just has overwhelming whims and curiousity. Also, metal arm dude seemed important somehow. "And weirdly, no. He went to some Impala-car and pulled out this big, black metal box like a coffer. About the size of a rocket launcher, maybe?" Lunair taps her chin. "I'm not one to judge a guy by his cargo, I guess." She shrugs. "So I followed him. I figured I'd see what was up and chucked a flash bang at him. It knocked him away, and I got behind a dumpster with my assault rifle."

And Lunair does seem to have a knack or fate binding to coffee. "It looked like he was going to snipe them, I guess. I'm not sure. The box was too big to be a sniper rifle, unless he had some custom job." She considers. "Anyway, I shot at him and he just straight up charged at me, then flipped the dumpster on me." SIGH. "I got stuck. He went back to his box, pulled it into the car, stared at me, saluted and drove off." She cursed her lack of lube that day.

Melinda May leans forward a bit. "He stared at you. You had to have gotten a better look at hi that time. What can you add to his description?" She doesn't share a glance with Natasha this time. She's fully aware that this could be the additional bit of information that Romanoff has been trying to glean.

This is all apparently speaking volumes to Natasha. She settles back in her chair, her gaze resting on Lunair for a possibly uncomfortable length of time.

"Tell me about yourself," she says at last. "You're clearly a talented individual. How did you train? How did you get to the point that you look for fights? It's not common."

"Well, he had that weird, black thingy on his face. he really didn't seem too much older than me and…" Lunair will do her best, really. She could tell he likely has brown hair? She ticks off her fingers.

"His stare was like mine. A thousand yards away." She considers. "his eyes-" Yup, she saw those. Lunair pauses, blinking. At Natasha. There's a pained look. She seems uncertain. "I was trained by the people who adopted me. I didn't really look for it. I wanted some new clothes, because I can't wear my old ones. I feel weird, since I found out I was created to fight. I tried to live a normal life, but they always find you. Fights find you. You feel restless, and normal jobs feel wrong. People kind of stare at you funny and I wonder if they know what I do and did." Do people sense a predator?

Melinda May looks at Natasha at that. She knew Lunair had some serious social lack-of-skills, but this explains them. It also explains why May hasn't tried to recruit her to SHIELD. She'd just end up being treated like a weapon-toting automaton.

Natasha knows. Her eyes flick only briefly to May's, and there's a world of conversation passing between them.

"I understand. Some people have choices," she murmurs. And leaves it at that for now.

She knows all about the people who don't. So does the Winter Soldier.

"Tell me about his eyes," she says. She's certain she knows, but she wants to hear what Lunair has to say.

Lunair doesn't seem to mind one way or another. She's been a little distracted to think about career prospects, but she does seem to like helping May and friends well enough. Even if she is a bit worried about how some SHIELD agents manage to survive, sometimes.

She just sort of nods at Natasha. It was what Lunair was, in a most literal fashion, created to do. The 90s were an era of playing with super soldiers and who knows what (at least women have feet nowadays and pouches seem to have gone out of fashion). "Well, they were-" And she rattles off the color. "But he seemed pretty distant. Like grandpa when he remembers stuff, or when I'm thinking. I don't know. It felt empty, I guess." And coming from Lunair of all people, that might mean something. "I really didn't have much time to look, since I was hopping mad and trying to get out from under the dumpster." It was heavy!

Vacant. That probably will mean more to Natasha than it does to her, and it seems significant. "I think this information is going to help a lot." She looks at Natasha again for confirmation.

Natasha inclines her head. "Definitely," she says. "When you see him again — because you will — please do let me know. I don't recommend trying to fight him. Or engage him. Or talk to him. But in your case…"

She taps her lip slightly before nodding once. "It would be wrong to say you're safe from him, but I don't think he's going to come after you. Still. Give the HYDRA connection — which is really disappointing — we should get this nipped in the bud."

She gives May a quick Look. Something they need to discuss after all this.

"Okie dokey," Lunair nods. She looks to Natasha. "I'll keep that in mind. I guess I can try to dial someone right away. Dumpsters are distracting and I was REALLY mad. He looked smug. I bet he was smug." SIGH. Although, one has to admit, Lunair really did bring that one on herself. At least she kept Winter from RPGing the building, right? Right. Totally heroic. A poke of heroism, if you will.

"I'm sure I have others to worry about like the creepy German guy. Trent found out more about that one. I mean, I will pay attention. This guy is no slouch," And his experience probably gives him a huge advantage. But there's a lot to be said for the capacity to railgun someone in a heartbeat. She would rail the heck out of — no. This is why Lunair gets banned from combat dialogue. Forever. "I really wish I had more for you, sorry."

"It's a good start, and more than we had before you brought this to our attention. And, if you can't reach us for whatever reason, send the information to Trent. He'll make sure I get it." May finally takes a sip from her water glass.

Natasha's half-rising when she pauses… and sits back down. "German?" she inquires. "Creepy German guy? Do you know more about that one?" This to May. But since Trent knows more about that fellow, she'll let it go for now. Rising again, she extends her hand to Lunair. "I'll give you my card. Keep in touch. Maybe we can find something more that you can do with those skills."

"Thanks," Lunair nods. "Sure thing." It is pretty easy for Lunair to message Trent, too. "Yeah, he's the weirdo who tried to snag me the time before or something. I forget." She shrugs. She pauses at the extended hand. She'll accept a card. "Okay, thank you." Nod. "I appreciate it. Um. That's about all I can think of for now." Lunair doesn't have anything Trent wouldn't drop on May.

Melinda May stands when Natasha does and nods to Lunair. "Stay safe out there." She catches Natasha's look and nods to her slightly. Yes, there will more to discuss. Much, much more.


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