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

[redweb]

Well, sounds like the women you know have good taste, then.

[There's something to how she says it, a whisper that catches on the edge of that double-innuendo. Something to how he says the words, like she knows it means more than surface level. Red Death was one of her many names, red always the color that echoed the most closely, even if her outfit was always black.

If he gave her his full name, she'd have been able to place him, but he wasn't the man that she knew. Which in her view would be a good thing when she was eventually confronted with the truth. The Rumlow- better known as Crossbones- that she knew was a thug, and not a particularly bright one, even if he did seem to be about as stubborn as a cockroach.

Of course, Rumlow not be able to pick up on it, but she was downplaying her physical strength more than a little. It was almost habit more than anything. She disliked when people pegged her as being something other than skill and determination. So she doesn't really put her back into it, not really. She doesn't play the gentle femininity card, because she feels like he's already read through that one too well. So instead, it's just- a woman that's good at using what strength she has.]

Not so sure about that one. But that should deep enough, don't you think?

[She's clearly ignoring their ghost-companion by this point, just eager to get this finished and shut him the Hell up. Hopefully for good. This is worse than having Lion trailing around after her. At least he'd been somewhat useful.]

[ukase]

They do, and they would probably snarl at me if I said any different.

[The way that she replied made him think that she had caught his play on words. That meant she was sharp, that even as they conversed she was reading the field and squirreling out information. He would have to watch himself around her, but he had done this before, many times over. Part of being a member of HYDRA in a position where capture and torture were very real possibilities meant he was assessing the situation constantly and knew how to keep information to himself.

She wasn't struggling with the shoveling, and he wasn't going to help her with it either. Fair was fair, and he believed she was as capable as digging as he was. So, he watched her as she finished the last few feet and even leaned back on his hands on the grass.]

Seems plenty deep where I'm sitting, and our bodyless friend doesn't seem to be complaining, so let's go with that. [He leaned and reached over to grab the bag of bones, ignoring the hovering ghost and offered it to her. She had them, so this was her job. He was just here to move some dirt.] I hope we don't have to say a few words. I never was good at eulogies.