ArchivedLogs:Vignette - Shield Redux

Vignette - Shield Redux
Dramatis Personae Steve, Fury	2016-02-18 "{So...you're saying you want me to work for you /because/ I disagree with you?}"
Location <NYC> SSR Headquarters - Director's Office - Times Square
This corner office is big, bright and airy, which is not cheap to come by in midtown Manhattan. On one side, a huge glass desk sits in front of the floor-to-ceiling window looking out over Times Square. The far corner has a leather couch, a coffee table, a liquor cabinet and a sideboard, but the rest of the floor space was left open between bookshelves. Nick Fury is sitting in the high-backed chair behind his desk, nursing a cup of dark, dark coffee. He's wearing a plain black turtleneck sweatshirt under a long, black leather coat, and wears a black leather patch over his scarred left eye. "{I don't disagree with you, Cap,}" he's saying, his French precise and Parisian. "{Mutant's rights are important -- but they cannot come at the expense of everyone's safety.}" Steve's coffee sits on the other side of the desk in front of him, barely touched. He's looking rather sharp in a navy blue blazer over a pink pinpoint shirt, charcoal slacks, and black oxfords, his posture very straight and stiff where he sits across from Fury. His shield leans against his chair on the floor beside him. "{I never said that they should, but still, the /capacity/ to cause harm is not the same as causing harm itself, and if we start treating it like that then we may as well drop any pretense at liberty and justice for all.}" His French is more casual, more country, more fluid. "{And that's a pretty /thin/ pretense as it is.}" Fury sighs. "{Look, all this -- the registry, monitoring mutants, legislating powers, hell, the X-gene itself -- is still fairly new territory. We don't have a map, but we've got to make it up as we go along or risk being blindsided by the next zombie apocalypse. And before you get out your soapbox, yes, I /know/ that would've never happened if not for Prometheus.}" He lifts his coffee to his lips, surprisingly placid given the topic of conversation. "{But it is what it is. There are people out there who can end the world with a thought. We're just trying to keep a step ahead of that. /How/ we do it? That's still up for debate.}" Steve's blond brows furrow deeply. "{Well, from what I could tell before, SSR doesn't seem too keen on exploring alternatives to treating mutants like terrorists waiting to happen.}" "{It's a bit of an echo chamber,}" Fury agrees easily. "{I'm a man of forceful opinions, and try as I might my subordinates have a tendency to align with me. But not you.}" He abandons his coffee and rises. "{You've got a powerful sense of right and wrong, a unique perspective on the problems of this era, personal ties to the mutant community, and most importantly, you're a goddamned stubborn son of a bitch.}" His mouth twitches briefly into a smirk as he ambles over to a bookcase. "{Just like me.}" "{So...you're saying you want me to work for you /because/ I disagree with you?}" Steve's eyebrows raise up, up, up as he turns to follow Fury's progress across the office. "{I have other reasons, but that's a significant one, yes.}" Fury shrugs, running his fingers over the spines of the fine, harbound books. "{I know you'll speak your mind, and if we go astray -- you'll fight us. We need that. And in the spirit of building trust, I'm going to show you the real face of this organization.}" He walks past the books to a door that Steve had not yet seen opened -- plain, situated in the corner of the room, it looks like it could be a closet or a bathroom. Fury stops in front of it, and a beam of light sweeps over his face. A faint tone sounds, and he waves for Steve to follow him. Steve rises, picking up his shield and strapping it to his arm. Goes toward Fury with a kind of wariness in his posture. The door opens out onto a slick, modern conference room whose long glass window overlooks a vast operational space full of monitors and people and activity. A crest of a blocky, heavily stylized eagle hangs over the largest central display, which shows a map of the world busy with all kinds of data, constantly updating. Steve goes to the glass and stares down at the room below with undisguised amazement. "What is this?" Fury has crossed his arms and is watching /Steve/ rather than the bustle of his agents below. "SSR was folded some years ago into the a UN-backed intelligence organization called Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division." He strides up to stand beside Steve, his smile now just a little smug. "Welcome to S.H.I.E.L.D., Cap."