open | you got the story all made up inside your head.

[debts]

CHARACTERS: natasha romanoff debts and you.
LOCATION: kitchens.
WARNINGS: n/a.
SUMMARY: natasha romanoff drinks tea. some people sit. some people don't.
NOTES: will edit for future warnings.

[ Natasha misses the tea back home. It's not a strictly Russian sentiment, either. She misses teas, her little collection in one of her safehouses where it was readily available at a local market, the ones she could mix and blend together depending on what she felt; sharp citrus and rose teas for mornings, soothing green for nights. Not, exactly, the way Natasha likes to start her day -- the reality is that she misses sun the same way people miss summer, memories with sentimental touches that include drinking tea on a Brooklyn fire escape, warmth on her back. She's sitting at one of the tables and maybe the picture she paints is dramatic, bordering on poetic; her glock, disassembled in front of her, next to her mug (coffee, not tea). Next to that are her holsters, two small flat discs and in her hands is a spool that she slowly unwinds, checks the tensile strength of.

All of this is gear she hasn't had to use in months. She polishes it up anyway, in a public area, in her tac-suit and boots up on a chair. Her hair is still sporting the remnants of how choppy it used to be when she sheared it off with a knife, sitting at uneven angles at shoulder-length as she respools her garroting wire.

So, you know. Come over if you want to touch some shiny things or whatever. ]

Comments

[debts]

[ Natasha gives a smile that, if everybody is being honest and watching for it, comes across as nothing but polite. It's-- muted, the kind that doesn't reach her eyes but plays out for appearances only. ]

It's in the cabinet to your right.

[ Helpful, even if not strictly warm about it -- Natasha doesn't look up, just continues to make the methodical motions to wind the wire back. ]

[timeisluck]

Oh. Thanks.

[ she had been looking a bit lost, and also not sure how free they were to use anything in the kitchens.

so the woman's sudden direction is helpful.

there's a moment when gwen just gets set to make her hot beverage, boiling the water and scooping two spoonfuls of cocoa powder into a clean mug. while she's waiting, she glances over at natasha's belongings again.

politely: ]

Do you need all of that here? The weapons.

[debts]

[ A beat. Natasha glances up, though it's with a quirk to her brow. It's not because the question is silly or even funny -- it has merit, considering how the events that happen seem to prioritize the psychological over the physical -- but it's polite. It's enough that it makes Natasha's mouth quirk. ]

I saw it on a bumper sticker once,

[ She says, idly. Non-sequitur, but Natasha carries on: ]

Girls just want to have guns? Something like that.