Summary:Steve and Mikhail meet to discuss potential recruitment to SHIELD. Log Info:Storyteller: None |
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After a harrowing handful of days, Steve appears to have recovered from the incident in Prospect Park. He's no longer limping, but while the weather is still somewhat warm in the afternoons for impending autumn, he's wearing a light scarf about his neck (to cover the unnaturally-furry nape of his neck) as he sits on the open-air patio of a cafe. The Grub & Grind is a well-known meeting spot for those odd discussions that come of phone calls he takes, about three blocks from the invisible line drawn to dictate the Triskelion's grounds.
Sipping at his black coffee, simple without sugar or cream, he glances around. The Captain had told the young male on the other end of the phone line that he'd be wearing a light black windbreaker and blue jeans to go with his caramel-brown tasseled scarf. Then again, sans baseball cap, Steve Rogers with his golden hair and fine features is hard to miss if someone's looking deliberately for him. The spare chair across the small diamond-slatted table is empty and on offer for the soldier's presumed conversationalist once he arrives.
Mikhail arrives on time and looks around for the one matching the description since he has no idea what Steve looks like. It takes a moment to examine every male in the place but eventually finds the one he's looking for and walks over. "Agent Rogers?" he asks, the Russian accent just as thick as it was on the phone.
Steve glances up from contemplating a small bubble atop his dark coffee. The accent does match the voice he heard on the phone and as such, he sets down his cup and rises to his feet. A hand is offered to shake along with a polite smile.
"Yes, I'm Agent Rogers. Thanks for being timely. Seat's yours if you want it," he adds, gesturing then to the spare chair. The Captain seats himself again and looks briefly back towards the interior counter. "You want anything? Coffee? Bagel? Everything's not half-bad."
The seat is his? It takes a moment to decipher that as he should sit down so he does. "Nyet." Mikhail answers. "I need nothing, thank you. I sappreciated that you are willing to talk to me. Keiko said you would be good person to speak to about SHIELD."
Steve's eyebrows lift. It takes him a second and a paused lift of his cup to his lips before he draws connections. "Ah, Miss Kurita, right." She of the impossible inked tattoos and uncanny abilities. "I'll admit I'm involved in a few things." A deep inhale lifts his chest beneath his jacket and he reaches back to briefly scratch at the nape of his neck hidden beneath the wrapping of scarf.
"What do you need to know, Mister Rasputin?" Some sound makes him glance to his left, towards the nearby alley, but Steve's attention shifts back quickly enough to Mikhail.
"SHIELD is large organization. Many layers. Do many things all over world." Mikhail says, keeping his voice low enough so it shouldn't carry far. "Need to know if it can be trusted. SHIELD is United Nations, not government. But close. Political organizations can't be trusted. Keiko said you would be good to ask."
A smile almost makes its way fully onto his lips again. Steve drops his eyes for a second before looking back up at his fellow conversationalist again.
"You're asking the right questions. Can SHIELD be trusted." It seems a rhetorical statement. His eyes wander to mark a passing car, but it continues traveling at a steady rate of speed, not slowing down suspiciously in any manner.
He too keeps his voice low. "Guess it depends on which side of the board you wanna be on. From my experiences, SHIELD does its best to keep the peace. Now, there's 'peaceful' 'nd then there's 'harmless'. 'Peaceful' implies you're gonna fight for the quiet. SHIELD does that, no matter who rattles the door." Mikhail gets a level look. "You got a reason to be distrustful?"
Mikhail considers the question a moment as he studies Steve. But the man comes highly recommended so he mentally shrugs. "I was cosmonaut. Government betrayed me, betrayed family. Told many lies. Was foolish and trusted blindly, never thinking to question what was told me. Never again."
Mikhail gets a nod. "Makes sense, why you wouldn't want to stick your fingers in any pie like that again. Sorry to hear it." It's no trite condolance; Steve's brows meet in a small frown. The story is unfortunate and one he's heard before, in some variant. Inevitably, the world fails those who live in it.
"You a defector then? Or looking for security? If you're on the run, we gotta know. Only so much we can do," he explains quietly.
"Not defector." Not exactly. Since he already told Jemma, Mikhail doesn't need to hesitate now. "Was on mission to other dimension. Mission failed, crew killed but me. Time passes slowly there. Days for me, years here. Government must think me dead. Family finds me, brings me here."
"That's…something I haven't heard in a while," the Captain admits, his eyebrows lifted. "Got the anonymity through KIA then…" His tone drops musingly. Mikhail is considered again for a period of silence. The coffee cup rises to his lips and with a toss-back, Steve finishes it all. Clearing his throat, he shifts in his chair to rest his hands on the arms of it.
"'nd you want to see what SHIELD has to offer? Why SHIELD? Because of Miss Kurita? Or another reason?" Patiently, he asks these things, out of bureaucratic procedure more than anything else.
Mikhail shakes his head. Steve's conclusion is right though he got there wrong. "Was with friend when SHIELD contacted him, asking for help. Agreed to help too. Was talking to agent after and she suggested I join. Agent Simmons." He's quiet a moment then says. "I join military to serve country, help people. Now, don't trust them, can't go back. But America not my country and don't trust it. SHIELD and United Nations?" He shrugs lightly. "Maybe? Am bored. Need to serve."
"Mmm. Know that well enough… Get into the military, get comfortable there…get good at what you can do, 'nd once you get out, life's…not the same." Steve pulls his lips to one side. His fingertips tap out some nonsensical pattern on the metal chair with soft sounds of impact. Then he nods, curtly.
"You've named off two folks whom I'd trust to make accurate initial assessments. What can you bring to the table for us? Skillset? You specialize in the dimensional work?" By the ease at which he asks this, the Captain has been at least exposed to the weirdness of alternate dimensions.
Comfortable? Good? Mikhail wasn't really in long enough for either but it's what he knows other than farming and that part is history. "Am mutant." he says with no hesitation. "Government recruit and train me for my powers. Control energy, change energy, tear open space, move through."
"That's also something different. Okay, so…mutant." Steve briefly rubs at the back of his neck before he gives Mikhail a half-smile. "We've got no problems with mutants. Sounds like you've got a good grasp on your powers too. If you'd mentioned you were struggling, I'd've handed off Xavier's card. Professor Xavier, of the Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters."
His fingertips dance along the the arm of the chair again. "Figure if you want, you can fill out the paperwork. Like I said before, Miss Kurita and Doctor Simmons haven't been wrong about recruiting folks."
"You know Xavier's? I thought was secret." Mikhail says, looking surprised. "Was there when friend got call for help. He did not say SHIELD knew." He'll have to ask Hank about that. "Da, powers under control. Very strong. Trained cosmonaut. Make good agent. If SHIELD to be trusted. No one says it's not yet."
"The Professor 'nd I have known each other for a while," Steve explains without fully explaining, a long-practiced trick of a senior SHIELD agent. "'nd it doesn't mean I go trotting out the offer to everyone with an interest in SHIELD, nor do I remind SHIELD about it unless they're interested. They can go talk to the Professor himself if they're concerned about anything."
He sighs and the half-smile lingers. "I believe you'd be a good agent, Mister Rasputin. Here." A different business card is grubbed up from an interior pocket of Steve's jacket and it's passed across the table, left there for Mikhail to take. "Follow the instructions on the back side. SHIELD'll know you mean business rather than being some green recruit."
Mikhail Rasputin takes the card and looks over what's on the back before slipping it into a pocket. "Everyone I ask say yes, they can be trusted. Or mostly. Everything grey, no black and white. Don't expect everyone, everything to be good. World is complicated, da? Will call Agent Simmons and tell her yes."
"Yep, call Doctor Simmons 'nd let her know you spoke to me. Show'er the card too, if you need to." Steve glances over his shoulder towards the interior of the cafe and back to Mikhail again. "You sure you don't want anything before you head out? Scones aren't half-bad. Spot you one for the road?"
His own chair makes a soft gritting sound as he stands up, taking up his empty white cafe mug as he does so.
"Another time." Mikhail says as he stands up. "Spasiba. Thank you." he adds after a moment. Not that Steve really said much that was enlightening but he did confirm what the others did.
"You're welcome. I'll touch base with you if I see you around the Trisk. You have a good day, Mister Rasputin." Giving Mikhail a final polite smile, the Captain then turns to walk away into the cafe. He intends to return his mug to the dirty rack by the trashcan and indeed leave with a scone.
Maybe four.
Regardless, it's a nice view in those jeans.