driftfleet | everybody's starstruck in june.

Entry tags:

everybody's starstruck in june.

Who: starstruck crew & visitors
Broadcast: n/a
Action: aboard the ship
When: june

[ another month; another mingle. but there are changes in the air! the starstruck has some fresh crew to boast of, as well as a spiffing new lounge. things have been difficult, lately -- the common area might make for a great place to decompress and socialize with your fellow starstruckers.

after all, it seems the captain's gone and requisitioned max's record player. for the first week in june, it'll be returned again and again to the new lounge. good luck hiding it from her, rockatanksy.

ready steady go! ]

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Another one, huh? [Very British of him, it's true. Natasha isn't bothered by the rejection, taking it in stride. It does warrant the joke, though.]

As it turns out, I don't have anywhere else to be for a while. So I guess I'll just have to find another way for you to entertain me?

[It takes him a beat--in part because of the very tea he's yet to have.]

Ah. Indeed; I'd be lying if I said I wasn't particularly glad that Miss Carter seems to have someone willing to supply her with actual tea.

[Although it doesn't comprise the whole reason why he's ultimately transferred onto this ship.

He doesn't need long to fill the kettle. Not many of them would be using it anyway, given the majority of the crew seems to prefer the drink Natasha indulges in now. Not unlike someone lounging in a cafe--particularly when she speaks of Rip entertaining her.]

Spoken as if you might already have something in mind. [The kettle goes on the stove, and Rip begins to pull what he needs from the cupboards with relative familiarity. A bag filled with dried tea, a cup to sit it in, and the sugar--blissfully real, and something he's not been forced to go without even before he had a cuppa to put it in.

Perhaps the one benefit of being a cook.]

Oh, not yet. But I'm sure I could figure something out. I'm pretty good at that.

[A little bit of a smile, vaguely flirtatious but without any intention behind it. It's an act, and fun in itself, in a way.

Natasha likes to think she's good at it.]

It's been a while since we ran into each other. I suppose we could catch up—you're on Starstruck?

I've little doubt of that.

[While she may or may not lack "intention," Rip certainly holds none in regards to the banter. Indeed, while he's not entirely unversed when it comes to what flirting looks like? He can be rather willfully ignorant at times.

Such as now.]

Only as of last week. [He turns to face her once he's got everything he needs out and neatly lined up on the counter.] The latest of Miss Carter's victories, to hear her talk about it.

[And she isn't wrong, point of fact. Doesn't mean Rip can't make a wry comment, however.] And what of you, Miss Romanoff? I remember you mentioning you're assignment was the Vanquish before. Is that something the enterprising captain seeks to change?

[It's more fun that way, really. No worrying about misunderstandings or hurt feelings.

Her smile at that question twists crooked, somewhat more self-deprecating.]

She's mentioned it before, but as of this moment, I'm still on the Vanquish. That's one set of laurels that Peggy will have to wait a little longer to claim.

[She looks up more the, looking over his expression curiously.]

I know she's had a goal, though. Mind if I ask what she recruited you for?

--You know, I'm really not sure which of you might outlast the other.

[Just an idle comment based on early impressions, particularly in Natasha's case. One that's honest, however. He suspects that both women can prove stubborn should they wish.

But then she asks what one might expect under the circumstances. Rip glances down, his hands coming to rest lightly on his hips as he gives a bit of wry grin.]

Perhaps she wanted someone with British sensibilities in her kitchen. [It's a bold face lie, and if Natasha knows Jarvis, Rip expects he'll be called on it in short order.] Saves her from having to wait for the kettle to heat up, among other things.

[Natasha does know Mr. Jarvis and has been treated to his Valentine's Day cookies. She's also familiar with British sensibilities regarding food.

She snorts in amusement.]

I guess she must not mind having to share her tea. Does that mean she couldn't win over Mr. Jarvis?

[Or did Peggy have other reasons for her interest in recruiting Rip.]

Or she's happy to have someone else on her side for the age-old debate. [He motions towards the mug still in her hands.] From what I've seen, nearly everyone else here prefers that bitter mess for some reason.

[Spoken lightly. He's known some who get rather defensive about their coffee, after all.]

I suppose not directly, no—although I am taking lessons from the man. [Which Peggy might already well know, given the pair of them are friends. After a beat he shrugs a shoulder.] For whatever that winds up being worth.

You know, some of us aren't actually taking a side. [Though Natasha does drink more coffee than tea personally.] They're both fine.

But sometimes, I like bitter.

[Natasha slides off the counter, shifting over to give him more space to work, if he needs it. Or if he's going to get squeamish about people sitting on the food prep surfaces.]

You're not much of a cook?

I'm fairly sure that violates some unwritten law of reality. Everyone takes a side. [And if she looks closely, Natasha may actually see the hint of a grin, just at the corner of Rip's mouth.

Especially since bitter can technically be accomplished with either.

It is rather kind of her to vacate the counter, however. Rip supposes he should get started—which first means wiping down the counters. Not just where Natasha had been perched, for the record.]

Not historically, no. [Which of course makes the question obvious: if not for his cooking skills, why was Rip recruited?] My background is actually in running a spaceship.

[A half-truth presented with ease; after all, the Waverider is capable of heading into deep space.]

A spaceship, huh? So none of this is new for you. Just another Thursday in space?

[Her smile in response is sly.]

Guess it probably doesn't work like that.

Oh, I wouldn't say none of it. This ship operates quite differently from the sort I'm used to.

[Which is perhaps the nicest way Rip can express just how inferior so much of it is.]

And we've got better food back home—or at least, far better methods of synthesizing it. [Which becomes particularly relevant since Rip's about to start pulling out the "ingredients" for what he's making. By and large? Powdery versions of fake replications of actual food.]

What about you? [Since they've broached the topic of backgrounds, it seems a good time to ask after hers, and Rip glances over. Though he acts as if he's merely making conversation, he's been curious since their meeting at the raid.] Were you one of the fortunate ones who has an augment to fall in line with their life before the Fleet?

You could say that. I did a lot of things back home. It would have been harder to put me in a job I didn't have experience with.

[She lifts her chin, giving the powdered protein a meaningful look.]

Not impossible. But harder.

[And a little shake of her head.]

I'm comms here, though.

[She beats him to the punch, as betrayed by the slight grin; Rip's just about to point out that while it was hard for the Atroma to do the same to him, they managed to find a way. The other thing he notes, however, is that she doesn't specify what her prior work had been. A lot of things is fairly vague as far as replies go, and given that Rip himself has only offered the specificity of a half-truth?

It's not hard to guess that the evasiveness is for a reason.

He lets it slide for now, however. Let it be a question unasked in favor of measuring out powders.]

All of which explains why Miss Carter would want to recruit you. Generalized knowledge plus an augment that matches her own. [Meaning that Peggy could focus on the tasks of captaining rather than communications specifically, particularly in the case of an emergency.

Rip pauses for a beat, then decides to push it further—to see just how much Natasha might be willing to give.] Not to mention that you clearly knew what you were doing during the ah, operation.

[However terrible the results had wound up being for them.]

[Natasha is good at what she does; the joke was meant to throw him off the fact she skirted a real answer to his question, a gentle redirection to something they both weren't professionals in rather than examining the part they were.

He's good to right the conversation like that. She doesn't for a moment believe it was an accident. It was a skill she could respect.]

Hm. She's been wanting someone to take over for her. [Echoing his thoughts.] It doesn't hurt than I'm a friend of a friend.

Dual roles are never easy—and it's always wise to have some sort of back-up. [Even when he first enlisted the Legends, long before Rip considered them permanent or even much of a team at all, he'd tasked Jefferson with making repairs. It had allowed Rip the freedom to act on other pressing concerns, and he's got little doubt Peggy might be after the same.

He pauses then, giving Natasha a glance as he mulls the thought over. Though it's only a guess, it seems reasonable enough.] Steve Rogers? [The friend in question, though Rip's already aware that he's a bit more than that to Peggy.

What he doesn't know, however, is how secretive they apparently are about it normally.]

[He gets a soft sound of agreement and a small smile as an answer. Steve isn't all that cagey about their relationship, but Natasha's run afoul of how tight lipped Peggy is. Especially with someone Natasha doesn't know all that well, she can observe some discretion.]

He and I worked together back home. For the most part, we made a good team.

All the more reason to wonder what's keeping you torn about transferring, then.

[She's absolutely got a talent for diverting conversations; giving just enough of an answer to satisfy part of the curiosity, leading the talk down that tangential-but-related path away from what hasn't been addressed. The problem with that when it comes to someone like Rip is that he's rather adept at considering things from many angles--and not always easily distracted.]

What's got you unsure?

I like my privacy, for one. [No hedging that time, though the lack of details makes it a very safe answer for her. Luckily, she has more. Most of the equally nonspecific.] And weighing the value of having the team together on one strong crew versus having strategic contacts across multiple ships.

There's also the comfort of the rest of the crew, if I were to transfer, and optics to consider if anyone else from our world arrives.

[Her first answer gets her a small huff of amusement, but only in so much as it's rather stating the obvious by this point. Still, he lets her get out the rest, Rip in the meantime occupying his hands by measuring out assorted powders into a bowl, then water to add to the mix.

Seems like there won't be any avoiding being watched this time around; unfortunate.]

Miss Carter had mentioned that there are a number of people from your particular universe about. [And so many from the future, at that. Regardless, Rip can see the logic behind having multiple people one could trust among the various ships in the fleet--especially with the revelation of something like the massive canon that's apparently been in the Marsiva this whole time.

Less likely that all of them might go in one shot, if the Atroma decided to fire on its own ships instead.

When she speaks of comfort, and from multiple perspectives, Rip glances back to her once more.]

Interesting points of concern, those. Especially since you already pointed out that you and Mr. Rogers have been allies before.

[For the most part.]

Explaining all the details on that one would take a long story. But... believe me, it's a concern.

[Or it would be if Tony came back. Among other possibilities, but that one first and foremost.]

But it could be a good team. Steve and Sam and me... [A shrug.] There's arguments for both, and plenty of reasons not to rush.

Well, I would point out that we seem to have nothing but time at the moment—but since you'd clearly rather not talk about it, I suppose I'll simply have to take your word on the matter.

[He can't force her to reveal anything she doesn't want to, of course, but that hardly means Rip can't call her on her avoidance.]

Fair enough. And besides—it's hardly like there's anything stopping you from visiting when you'd like. [Or from working together, if not on one crew then still as one team.]

[A small, tight smile at his comment. He's far from the the first person to notice her evasiveness, though faster than most, but that doesn't mean it doesn't hit.

She lets it pass, though.]

I intend to keep visiting. Steve already lectured me into that. Can't back out now.

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everybody's starstruck in june.

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