driftfleet | (no subject)

Who: Natasha Romanoff + various
Broadcast: N/A
Action: Starstruck, Heron, Vanquish, Iskaulit & Siourew
When: Throughout February

Visits - Starstruck & Heron

[Don't let it be said that Natasha Romanoff isn't good to her word. She's said she would pay visits to a couple of ships, and in early February, she proves good to her word.

First on the agenda, she stops in on the Heron. It gets priority because it's not just a social call. She said she'd help Barnes out with his hair—it's obviously been a while since anyone gave it a trim, and he's agreed to trust her enough to help him out. Hopefully Barnes is in. She didn't call ahead to check.

Later, she'll show up on the Starstruck. She's actually been here a couple of times recently, eating Wanda's cookies and stopping by to see Peggy, but she's trying to make more of a habit out of it. Steve clearly wanted her to. And she hasn't seen him on those visits, so here she is again.

In Starstruck's kitchen.

Making herself some coffee.]

Exploring - Siourew

[Natasha takes the opportunity to get down on the planet. Or around it, as the case proves to be. Either way, she's taking advantage of the opportunity to get outside, to see a real sky, breathe fresh air and stretch her legs.

If anyone wants to join her for a hike, she wouldn't turn down the company.]

Hallucinations - Vanquish, Islaulit & Siourew

[As the month wears on, the tone of things changes for the worse. Natasha hadn't assumed she'd escaped the glitches affecting various members of the fleet, but she had seemed no worse for them so far. That changes as the month wears on.

It starts with flashes out of the corner of her eye. Little girls who watch her with eyes too old for their faces. They stand in ones and twos, tucked around corners and in shadows, glimpsed in the reflection in a window, there for only an instant, then gone. It doesn't end there, though. After the flashes, aural hallucinations. Voices come straight from her memory, clear and distinct, speaking in any of half a dozen different languages. They bark orders. Praise her dedication. Quiz her on training. A few words, a phrase, and then they're gone.

Then the visions escalate. The girls stay are no longer just girls. They're ghosts, sporting evidence of the injuries that killed them—they're students she killed along the way, bruised or bearing bullet wounds. Sometimes they're missing eyes, missing mouths. They float in windows.

They don't speak, because the dead don't. They just follow her. Isn't that fitting?

Natasha tries to go about her days normally. She visits the shooting range, or bars. She makes her meals in Vanquishes kitchen and she stops into bars on Iskaulit. She even goes back planetside hoping getting away from the fleet will ease the glitch, but there's no such luck. By the end of the month, she might walk into a room and for five full seconds, it's as though she's stepped into the past, back in Russia, back in the Red Room, watching girls be winnowed away until only the weapons remain, or she might turn a corner and find herself standing face to face with the distorted face of one of her marks from her early days as an assassin. She tries to hide it, but as time goes on, even she can't entirely hide the signs of stress.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Let's not find out.

[They're very alike that way too—hard to let go off that last bit of tension, to really relax. But this is good.

When she's finished combing his hair out and getting it straight, she pulls out a pair of scissors. She's careful how she holds them, never like a weapon, with her own hand between him and the blades as much as possible.

True to his direction, she just takes a little off the end, cleaning things up, evening out the length, giving it a little most shape.]

[ It doesn't escape him how mindful she's being, keeping her hand between him and the scissors. He's grateful, really. It's a small thing, but it speaks volumes.

She's not taking much off, but he feels lighter, somehow. One less thing he'll have to worry about for a while. He trusts that she'll do a good job.

Once she's finished, he runs a hand through his hair. ]

Feels a lot better. Thank you.

It looks better too. [With a little smile. In impulse, she reaches out and rubs the back of one knuckle along his jaw, testing the stubble.]

Still very rugged.

Well, I do have an image to keep.

[ They both know he doesn't care how people see him, in or out of the fleet. ]

You're a captain. Wouldn't want your crew to lose respect for you.

Somehow I doubt Charles or Erik would lose respect for me because of my facial hair.

You'd know better than me. [Natasha has met them both, chatted a little. That's about it.]

Summer seems a little suspect though.

Hah.. Summer means well.

[ At least he knows that she doesn't mean ill. ]

I'm sure she does. I'm not here to judge. Just observing... she might be a little sketchier when it comes to what she respects.

I don't know her well enough, but I don't think she'd betray us.

[ Which is about as good as it's going to get. ]

I didn't say betray you.

[And she wasn't going to suggest that without knowing her better.]

As long as it doesn't happen, I'm good with it.

If I keep coming by, maybe I'll get a better feel for it.

Wouldn't say no to that.

Good. [She finds she likes the time she spends with him. Somehow especially the time they aren't talking. It's rare for her to feel like she's with someone she doesn't have to put on a face for, someone who's making demands of her somehow.

Except somehow, Barnes manages to give her those moments.]

Just remember to tell me how to get past security. Otherwise I'll have to figure out how to break in.

Maybe that will be the test of how well it works. If you can get in, then it needs improvement.

[ He's partially joking. He'll tell her anyway. Eventually. ]

Is that a challenge, Barnes?

[Do you want to make this a challenge.

She will start breaking onto your ship and leaving kittens on your pillow.

Or bullets in your coffee mug.

Whichever.]

What does it sound like, Romanoff?

[ He is up for a spy challenge. Bring it on. ]

Well, you know... it sort of sounds like we're on. But if that's how it's going to be...

[Enjoy finding happy faces in red lipstick on your mirror.]

Oh, it's on.

[ RIP the Heron. ]