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

[ukase]

[If she was who he thought she might be, there was no way that he was digging a grave all on his own. Also, he wasn't one hundred percent certain that he wouldn't end up in it with the piles of bones if he was six feet down when it came to placing the stuff, so he was willing to take himself a bit more out of the direct line of being buried alive (or dead) with a talker like the ghost they were dealing with.

And the fact that she doesn't answer but still answers with a look wasn't unique to the Black Widow, but it was definitely something that he associated with her. Saying without saying, telling without telling, insinuating but flirting around the idea. Romanoff was a master of it, as much as she was a master of the combat that she decided to engage in.]

Well, seems like if you had brought any, you'd be half a bottle down by now.

[He dug until there was sweat building down his spine and on his arms, where dirt coated his skin as well. His hair fell forward into his face, but he worked until he was tired enough to require a break, not before. He stopped, shoved the shovel into the dirt and then pulled himself out of the hole he had dug about four feet down in. He rubbed his forehead with the back of his arm, smearing dirt in the process and then grinned at her.

Just woke up, huh? That explained a few questions that he had. He hadn't been as good at checking the pods lately, so that was honestly a mistake on his part.]

Well, it's better than burning, I can tell you that. [Scars around his eyes would make that clear.] Anyway, your turn. I need a bit of a rest.

[redweb]

Maybe. What girl says no to a good red?

[She says it with a smile, but it's more playing to the idea of being someone that isn't who Natasha is. There are many situations where she says no to alcohol. It takes a lot to get her tipsy, but she just generally doesn't trust it unless she's somewhere safe. She's the sort that will nurse a glass all night with few people any wiser. She did like a good red, but it was home alone, or out to dinner with someone she trusted. But it was a believable lie.

But she watches him as he digs. Watches the way that he moves, the exertion. Very well trained, but not enhanced, is the read she gets. Not that he couldn't be downplaying it, but this is all about first impressions. Almost reflexive, really, the way she tries to figure out what boxes he fits into. He seems like more than just muscle, but she's still working on that part of the equation. The fact is that old soldiers are always sharp or damn lucky, and she prefers the sharp ones.]

Sure. I'll see what I can do.

[She hops down, easy, light on her feet. She holds her hand out for the shovel, a slight tilt of her head as she looks him over. There's a sly sort of amusement there, but she shows no particular hesitance about jumping into a hole in a graveyard.]

I'll let you know if my arms are about to break.

[ukase]

I couldn't say. All the women that I know love them. The redder, the better.

[Maybe a double-innuendo for another time and place. The way that she smiled and played along with the conversation reminded him so strongly of the Romanoff that he knew, though she almost seemed... more aged for it. He had no idea why that would be, but it stood to reason that no two Romanoffs were the same. She was good, and he knew that he had to be very careful around her.

He also suspected that any dinner wouldn't come with alcohol for either of them. Or if it did, they would milk the hell out of a single glass and keep all of their capacities. She was not someone he wanted to shoot his mouth off to, and he figured that she was too careful to do the same with a stranger. That she didn't recognize him was a bit odd, but maybe he didn't exist in her world?

He made no effort to stare too much at how she worked. She took to it like a soldier, like someone who had seen hard times and saw themselves through it. True Russian spirit old man Pierce would call it. She didn't shirk, didn't try to pretend to be frail or too feminine. She got to it and that was that.

He watched their ghost friend pacing eagerly, blabbering about the glory and honour of being set with the rest of his family. He tuned it out and looked up at the night sky instead, legs still dangling into their hole.]

No need. If they do, you can just dig with your feet.

[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.