Who: Carol Danvers and Jessica Drew NPCs: Agent Twitchy (we really need to come up with a name for her, Beth) When: Thursday, March 11, 2010 [morning] Where: Break room → SHIELD HQ (something we also need to suss out...), NY What: Carol, whose feeling particularly grizzled, is in search of food, when she happens on Agent Twitchy (read: scares the crap out of her.) Enter in J. Drew. Rating: PG-13?
"Grrr..." her lip twitched over her teeth. Carol actually caught herself growling at the computer screen. Her eyes felt blood shot from staring at the monitor. Of course it probably didn't help that she was highly hungover.
Never in a million years would she have guessed working at SHIELD could be so abso-fuckin'-lutely boring. that she Didn't they get guns? And flying cars? And go on missions to exotic locales? How in the hell did she get stuck processing expense reports? Was this some sort of punishment for all of the collateral damage she caused as Binary because there was no way that this could be perceived as any sort of graceful retirement? She felt like her swings were being clipped. She felt...
Well, she felt a lot of things and at present one of those things were hunger. The only thing she had a taste for was an orange. Or an apple. Strange, that, usually it was for a beer and a whiskey chaser.
Pushing away from her cubical, she stood, slinging her hands into her camo trousers. She'd still wear her BDUs, damn straight, because there was no way in hell that she'd ever wear that ridiculous SHIELD uniform. She sauntered towards the break room, taking her time and stretching her legs, in no rush to return to her desk. Finally reaching her destination, the fridge, she tugged it open and peered inside. She knew she had left some fruit in there somewhere.
"Conflict of interest arises followed by a series of moves from which divergent strategies can be discerned. Zero sum, obviously. After a few moves, we’ll know Martin’s order of preference. In a game, there tends to be one 'N' rational players and a nonconscious, nondeliberative agent. What did Martin talk about before he said all the information you needed was in front of you?" Agent Twitchy, walked and talked, speaking into her ever-present ear piece as she moved into the break room in search of coffee. Her words were quick, almost strung together. Yeah - she needed more caffeine.
"Ohhh... chronic masturbation. The game may be all about self-gratification." She continued advising whoever it was on the other end of the line, unaware of anyone else in the room.
After finding her apple, Carol straightened. She had produced a sharp-looking knife from her pocket in order to slice into it when Twitchy all of a sudden took notice and started shouted, obviously scared and surprised. (The blonde, where did she come from? Who is that? Why is she here? She's going to stab me and take my things! Oh my god, look at that knife!!?!?)
"AAAAH!!!!"
Carol in turn jumped at the loud noise coming out of girl and shouted back.
"AAAAH!!!!"
...Which caused Twitchy to continue shouting and pointing some more.