autumn red

[redweb]

Who: Natasha (redweb) & Open (ish)
What: Catchall for Intro stuff
When: September
Where: Probably mostly Olympia
Warning(s): None, will add if needed

[ooc: catchall for starters and where people can drop prompts for things we've plotted. That said, I'm always up for plotting, and if you want me to write something up or want to direct me to your top level, just poke my CR post / hit me up on Discord @ natalia_vdova#0150. Or natalia_vdova works too in a pinch.]

Comments

For Bucky (616)

[redweb]

[The trip down to the surface was more or less uneventful. Some people seemed to have trouble, but whatever it was, it didn't seem to affect her or James, which she was rather glad for. Mostly people seemed confused rather than actually in trouble, so she didn't get her hands into it too much.

They settle on Olympia, and the train ride from Nadril is smooth, faster than she expected. She wants to explore Wyver too, but Olympia seems more like the more appealing place, at least to start with.

He gets a smile as they get off the train, Natasha walking with him as they step away from the station. She's looking around at the city, already mapping places out in her head, but she breathes a little easier because it feels more familiar than the station.]

Any recommendations?

[deadthenred]

There's a place a couple blocks from here. They serve something like pancakes.

[ Bucky knows that probably isn't what she meant. Heck, he knows that pancake houses are possibly her least-favorite post stakeout meal. But he doesn't have many people he knows well enough to tease, and he almost can't help himself.

God, he's missed her. ]

The palace is that way. [ He tilts his head to indicate the director. ] That's where all the rich people live. [ And where there was wealth, there was power. ]

[redweb]

After the end of the world on an alien planet, and of course you'd still manage to find a pancake house.

[She's teasing too; a slightly wry touch to her voice, a warmth to her eyes. It's maybe easier than it should be, falling into but she's still figuring this place out, so she decides to take it as a good thing.

Something familiar.

Natasha listens to what he says, marks the information he gives her as things to remember for later. She'll want to explore on her own, but it's good to have something to start from.]

There much internal conflict?

[deadthenred]

The bigwigs never invited me to their parties.

[ This isn't strictly true. He did go to that ball. ]

There was a riot at the palace… I dunno know how long ago. Civil unrest. [ He isn't too clear on the Olympian timeline, and the memories don't fit exactly into place. ] But it's hard to tell how much of that's really internal.

[ If you want to topple a government, sometimes the easiest way is to give the people on the inside something to be mad about. Kill an activist, and watch the everybody blame the dictator. Hell, he'd done it a few times. ]

[redweb]

[Her lips curve as she considers, files it away for something to look into later.

She understands the difference. That turning people against themselves, against their leaders isn't always organic. It can be so very easy to fan the flames of unrest if you set the right sort of tinder. They've both seen it often enough.]

Seems like it's an interesting place.

[In the way of Chinese curses, at least.]

[deadthenred]

Well, yeah. There's a dragon.

[ It probably isn't wearing purple shorts, though. ]

I guess that's in the other city. C'mon, we can head to my old beat.

[ It was the Red Light District. ]

For Steve

[redweb]

[It was early morning, not too long after dawn, with the sun just in the sky, and Natasha was checking out the marketplace. She has a place to stay (with Bucky- which may or may not be a bad idea, but it's something she can deal with as it comes). What she doesn't have is a lay of the land, or a feel for the people. So she's dressed casually, winding her way between the stalls, her red hair down to her shoulders, strands occasionally caught by the breeze.

She stops, talking to one of the vendors about his wares, some fruit that she doesn't recognize she thinks about bringing back with her. It's purple, heart-shaped, with a firm outer layer that he's demonstrating by cutting away with a pocketknife. He holds it out, allowing her to pick up a sliver of the pink inner flesh. She's aware of the passage of the crowds, the bodies, but she hasn't caught sight of Steve just yet.

There's a familiarity to her. The shape of her body, those curves, the red of her hair- her clothes simple basics with a coat worn over to hide her bracers.]

[america]

[ Steve is out for his usual morning run. He likes to cut through the marketplace on his way back to the apartment to clean up before his shift with the Royal Guard; just business as usual, a routine he's beginning to pick up again, when -- ]

Nat?

[ He stops short, very nearly skidding into a poor saleswoman who hustles in front of him with a large wooden crate of milk bottles in her arms. He mutters his apologies, hands out to steady her if she needs it, but she brushes him off with a huff and leaves him to deal with his shock alone.

The red hair and the clothes are his first clue, and the closer he studies her, the more certain he is of her identity. It's his good friend, all right, it's got to be - but if Natasha were awake again, he would have expected a call or - something. He backtracks, jogs towards her, and calls out her name. ]

Natasha? Not even a text for your old friend?

[redweb]

[The call of her name tugs her head up, has her scanning the crowd, and well -- Steve Rogers isn't a difficult man to pick out in a marketplace, especially not as he tries to help a woman with her milk bottles.

There's something off at first, but there's something familiar about the way he carries himself, the look in his eyes, the weight he carries on his shoulders. She doesn't forget the differences, but he knows her, knows her name, and so she'll take that. She could certainly use having one of her best-friends around in a place like this.]

Steve?

[Even if he seems to have grown a beard again since the end of the universe.

She walks over, a smile curving her lips, a hint of amusement in her blue eyes as she looks him over. She doesn't seem entirely satisfied with what she finds, but it's more friendly teasing than anything, which every incarnation of Steve surely has to suffer through.]

I didn't know you were here. But then, it's a little hard to tell with that thing on your face.

[america]

Hey, I've been told it's not a bad look for me. [ Steve interjects, with a fair amount of deadpan humour - and the slightest of smiles. He runs a hand through said 'thing on his face' for effect.

And it's then that Steve realizes that for all that she is unmistakably Natasha Romanoff ... she's also ... not quite Nat. Not his Nat anyway. This feels a little like deja vu, when he'd first met Bucky. ]

I didn't know you were here either. [ Or rather, that a different version of her had returned. ] You just woke up?

[redweb]

Well. I've seen worse.

[He runs his fingers through his beard, and there's a touch of a laugh there, a curl of her lips because he's not wrong. He certainly doesn't look bad, teasing aside. But she's also not going to admit that outloud.

Natasha can feel it too. That unmistakable sense of something that's the same and not entirely right. His hair is a little bit of a darker shade of blonde, something different in his eyes, the jut of his jaw, and it would be jarring. Except that her world is so very messy.]

Yeah. I was up on the station for a couple of days, but other than that- [There's a slight shrug of her shoulders.] I saw Bucky.

[Maybe he can tell, the way that she watches him for a reaction. But also the way that she says that is complex, to put it mildly.]

For Jack

[redweb]

[She's on the train to Wyver, minding her own business, nothing much about her that sticks out aside from her red hair and a pretty face. The ghosts don't really surprise her that much, but then the train stops, and there's a strange hissing from outside.

Then comes the chime, and the voice of the conductor, requesting all riders capable of combat to exit the train, and for all riders incapable of combat to stay inside. From appearances, one might expect her to stay where she was, and part of her is almost tempted, since being in the public eye hasn't exactly been kind to her lately.

But she slips off her sunglasses and with a sigh, stands up to exit the train. It's the superhero part of her that can't just sit by when there's danger.

Or maybe it's the adrenaline junkie.]

Anyone have eyes on what we're supposed to be fighting?

[personalwar]

[ The announcement doesn't beat around the bush at all, and that's something 76 can respect. Enlisting those who have the experience to help in a fight while also ordering any civilians to stay put is a good rule of thumb when it comes to an ambush like this.

Not that he knows what's waiting for them out on the train tracks. More of the ghosts, maybe? But they can't be fought in any traditional way.

One of the other people who's exited the train has a similar question. 76 takes a moment to scan over the woman. Unlike a certain other redhead who's given him grief lately, he holds nothing against the stranger. There's a confidence in her posture that makes him pretty sure she knows what she's doing. ]

Not yet, but...

[ He can hear them. His hearing is a little better than that of a regular human, but he can make out inhuman hissing, screeching, and plenty of other unpleasant sounds. ]

I think we've got more to worry about than some angry ghosts.

[redweb]

[Her hearing is a little sharper too, and she's certainly not a fan of what she can pick up. That said, she's been through a lot, and Natasha tends to be hard to surprise. It came with being a superhero; she always stayed on her toes, but after so many years, it tended to seem almost normal.]

Yeah. They certainly don't sound friendly.

[Part of her wishes for her catsuit, both for the ease of movement, and the added protection, but she's always been someone that worked with what she had. Which for right now, is her bracers and her skills. And in most situations, that's plenty.

There's a few other people aside from the man she's talking to, people that had been aboard other cars. She does a hear count, tries to remember their faces. She's not entirely comfortable with trying to play leader when she isn't quite sure just what they're about to be fighting, but the least she can do is make sure that no one gets lost or left behind.

The air changes, sudden, and the small lights in the tunnel dim, silence, followed by screeching, shadows that move in wrong ways and Natasha raises one of her hands, sleeves pulled back a little to expose the shine of metal, even by the low-light.]

Seems like they're not about to keep us waiting. Incoming.

[personalwar]

[ 76 is no more interested in playing leader in this situation. He's already had a lifetime of filling that role, and there are plenty of other people to step up to the plate among this group. Not that it should be necessary, if all of them focus on getting the job done.

The redhead just happens to be the person closest to him, and so it only makes sense to coordinate with her when jumping into the fight. What 76 will admit, if begrudgingly, is that teamwork on the battlefield can lead to much better results than if someone's going it solo.

Given that they don't really know what they're dealing with, that's even more true here. 76 glances over briefly as the demons approach. The woman has some sort of trick up her sleeve, but he can't quite tell what it is yet.

He pulls his sidearm out of his holster, undoes the safety, and gets ready to start shooting. With another look at the redhead, he shrugs almost casually. ]

Left my big gun at home. We'll have to see how this one holds up against these things.

[ As soon as one of the demons gets close enough that he can make out some of its grotesque features, 76 takes a shot at it, the sound echoing through the subway tunnel. ]

For Rumlow

[redweb]

[Really, when Natasha had run into the ghosts at first it was pretty easy to leave them to other people. Not her problem, not her area, and overall she was just willing to trust that there were people better suited to this sort of thing than she was.

Then this one particular ghost- a young soldier- had taken to harassing her in particular. And she would, if pressed, give him points for being determined. Eventually, helping him out just seems like the faster way to get rid of the all-too-talkative translucent form that trails after her.

So here she is, with his bones retrieved and in a bag she has tossed over her shoulder, looking for his family name so she can dig a hole and he can rest in peace. Theoretically. That said, she has no shame about requisitioning a little bit of help in this venture, when she sees someone that looks up to the task.] You any good with a shovel?

[ukase]

[This was an interesting situation, and it left him considering the possibilities of if something were to happen on their world. It was gone now of course, but what would it be like to be followed about by the ghosts of those who hadn't found peace in death. If he were religious at all, he might consider the idea frightening, but really, he found it kind of amusing.

He hadn't found any ghosts willing to follow him around, which was for the best. There were enough bodies to be dug up in the recovery effort, and while he wasn't careless with the dead, he also saw them as just that: dead. What good were they but to cause vermin and other issues? Let them be worm food.

He looked up from moving some rumble at the edge of Olympia, and he raised an eyebrow. She looked... familiar in a way, but more like he was looking into a distorted mirror. There was something far more familiar about the way she carried herself, and he looked at the bag that she had thrown over her shoulder.]

Depends what you need me to use it for. Digging or brain-panning some unlucky jerk?

[redweb]

[As much as there's something familiar about her, like a funhouse reflection, or like she could have been Natasha's sister, but not her twin- at least aside from the red of her hair- there's clearly no recognition when she looks at Rumlow. Instead, she just offers him a companionable smile, a slight shrug of her shoulders.]

Unfortunately, brain-panning doesn't seem to have much effect on the dead.

[To be fair, the strange translucence of the ghosts tend to mean that they can sink into the background, but her words seem to stir it to movement, and it almost seems to look mildly indignant when Natasha brings up the fact that she might have tried to hit it once or twice. It's certainly not that she couldn't dig the hole herself, but well, digging graves tends to go better with company, and the man has good arms on him.

Not that she's looking, precisely, but she's definitely not blind. Blame it on running around with superheroes that tend to like skin-tight outfits.]

I could buy you a drink for the trouble.

[ukase]

[Rumlow tilted his head, only then noticing the ghost that she had following her around, and then the bag over her shoulder made a lot more sense. There had been a lot of burying the dead, almost as much as clearing the rubble to free up the streets again. He dropped the stone he had been moving and dusting his hands off together.]

You afraid it will break your arms off to do it yourself, or are you appealing my giant male ego that I should help a lady with a dead person on her shoulder?

[He could totally pull the sexist card just to be an ass, but he decided not to. There was just something about her, and he couldn't place it. She reminded him of Romanoff, and yet... god who knew. Maybe he had worked too many hours shifting rubble.]

You can buy me dinner and we'll save the drink for some other time. [He preferred food over alcohol anyway. He stepped away to grab his kitpack, slinging it over his shoulder, all of his worldly possessions in that one place.] Where does Casper the friendly ghost need to go?

[redweb]

A little of both? [She says it with a smile, a quirk of her lips.] My arms probably wouldn't break, but I could definitely use the help. And you certainly don't seem to be lacking when it comes to arms.

[Natasha says this like her ex? ex. boyfriend didn't have one made of metal. But she doesn't seem to recognize him, seems to just be scoping out someone that looks like they were up to offering a little assistance with the ghost problem that she'd walked herself into.

He gets a bit of a look when he adjusts the terms of the offer that she'd made, but she nods in easy agreement.] Dinner it is.

[She watches him as he grabs his pack, slinging it over his shoulder in much the way she has the bag of the ghost's bones. She doesn't assume it's all of his possessions -- she doesn't know him well enough to judge yet, but she hasn't entirely discounted the fact. She's known the type, soldiers with no home, that don't fit in, that the world has left behind. And not all of them get dressed up in bright colors.]

Casper says there's a family plot that he needs to be added to. Shouldn't take too much to find it.

[The twitch to her expression says she gets the reference, which definitely puts her as not being from around here.]

For Bucky (MCU)

[redweb]

[Natasha is still getting her bearings; she's exploring the city, trying to learn its secrets, the best shadows, the bars that are fronts for weapons dealers, and so on. She doesn't have connections here, or at least not many of them. Just James, and Steve who is not her Steve, but still Steve in the ways that matter. A few people, here and there, but she needs more, so she watches, sometimes. She'd led a superhero team or two, she has an eye for the exceptional.

At first she can't immediately place what draws her attention to him. Something in the lines of his face, the way that he moves, but she can't entirely put her finger on it. That uncertainty is something, but it's the metal hand that really cements her interest, peeking from the wrist of his shirt. Not necessarily significant, but striking. So the redhead moves, slips down from her vantage point into the sparse evening crowd.

Her steps change, more casual, less like a shadow watching to see where the pieces of this place fit together. The fact their paths cross almost seems accidental, if you couldn't track how she moved.]

Sorry-- do you know which way it is back to the Residential District? I think I got a little turned around.

[lednikovyy]

[ Bucky's only starting to learn his way around the area, but he's a quick study when it comes to directions and he's got Steve and Peggy if he does need help. He spends some time every day learning a little more of the city. It seems like a good thing to commit to memory. ]

Yeah, it's back over in that direction.

[ He points as he turns to her, but when he gets a better look at her face, he pauses. She looks incredibly familiar, but he can't quite place it right away. His mind's been a jumble for a while and he's used to that, but it's not always great to be at a disadvantage with someone. ]

Are you new here?

[redweb]

[She looks in the direction that he points, an easy sort of appreciation in her eyes. She's about to say something herself, but he beats her to the chance with that question. Natasha nods in agreement.]

Yeah, just a couple days. You been here long?

[She starts it out casually enough. She doesn't really carry much of an accent these days, lived in the States too many years for that-- brainwashing aside. She doesn't quite smile, but there's a glint in her eyes, something inviting as they talk.]

It's a bit different from what I'm used to.

[lednikovyy]

Only a few months. It's really not what I'm used to, either.

[ He gives her an easily little smile. It feels like playing a part, but that's okay. Most things feel that way lately. He doesn't dislike social interaction, but it's all a lot more work than it used to be, like he's wearing a Bucky mask and not like he really is the guy they're talking to.

At least it's a part he knows well. He offers his hand to shake. ]

My name's Bucky.

[redweb]

Where are you from?

[And then he says Bucky. It's far from a common name, unique enough that there's a flutter there, just a flicker in her blue eyes, a spark of familiarity and something personal before she lets it slip away.]

Natasha.

[She could lie she has so many names but she doesn't. Instead, she just takes his hand, shakes it with a grip that's firm but easy. If he's sharp, maybe he picks up on the metal bracers hidden under the sleeves of her jacket. But it's less a threat and more casual paranoia.]