driftfleet | Mingle-ingle

[As a rule, Natasha doesn't spend a whole lot of free time on the Vanquish. Lately, she hasn't even been sleeping here that much. She does make a point of coming back for at least a couple of hours a day though—either at the communication console, or just hanging out in the kitchen reading and drinking coffee.]

[Kramm's collecting a plate of protein and one of his many varieties of beer, but seeing that there's someone already here he decides to camp out with company rather than head back to his quarters.]

Hey there, Natasha, right?

Hey. [She smiles a little at that.] I really do need to hang around a little more if you're not sure.

Yeah. Hungry?

Heh, I'm always hungry. Of course, I'm usually always walking and running and fighting ... [He settles into a seat and looks at the meal in front of him. Probably a little more than the recommended serving.]

Guess I'll have to do some more walking and running, but the fighting ... not sure when I'll get that in.

[Natasha's used to seeing people with enhanced metabolisms eat. She's not scandalized by someone who dishes up a little extra in their helping. Not like they're going to run out of protein.]

Give or take some sparring, that's not usually so much on schedule. Still... seems like we always end up fighting again eventually.

Maybe space pirates next?

Sparring? Where do I sign up for that?

[It's a good idea - if there's not much to do otherwise and no idea when the next engagement will hit, he's grateful for whatever chance he gets to let off a little steam. He may be pretty affable for a dragonborn and for a barbarian, but certain instincts have a way of making themselves known eventually.]

Ooooo, space pirates! Are they very different than regular pirates?

Hang out around the gym for a while. There's usually a few people around who wouldn't mind getting in a workout.

[Giving him a pointed glance over.]

Of various abilities and skill levels—probably someone your size will show up.

[All things considered.]

Probably space pirates aren't all that different than regular pirates. Just... in space.

That's a good idea, thanks. I'll be sure to give it a try.

[You get used to a certain level of activity, it's hard to adapt if it changes.]

Have you fought pirates before, space or otherwise?

Something like that—the space kind. We've run into some scavengers who weren't necessarily inclined to wait around for us to be scavenged.

Greedy money grubbers, it sounds like.

So, how does that work? Space battles like that?

That depends on the ship, and if it has defenses. Usually they'll try to board us one way or another.

At that point, it works about like any other pirates.

[It's terrible that Licorice is more familiar with Natasha than Katie is; the cat diverts to say hello as Katie trips into the kitchen with a blanket round her shoulders.]

Afternoon. I think? [She's honestly not sure. It's Feeding the Damn Cat time, is what it is.]

[Natasha drops her hand to scratch the cat's cheek.]

I thought we had a deal. You don't beg or start acting entitled, and I sneak you treats.

[That to the cat. To Katie:]

I think you're technically right. Whatever that counts for in space.

[She grins at the exchange. Licorice, you've been told. Katie opens the cupboards on the hunt for more fish, speaking easily as she does.]

A bit hard to have a noon when you have no idea where your sun even is, I suppose. How have you been?

[Because she doesn't see many people actually on the Vanquish, all things considered. Everyone has lives.]

[They do. It's something Natasha appreciates about their ship, really. They do have their own lives. When they have had to work together, they've been competent, ready, but they're not so close that it gets restrictive.]

Oh. Not much changes around here, does it? You take the ups with the downs.

But I'm all right with it.

I'm treating it as an overly long vacation, myself. Perhaps I'll take up painting. You're not too attached to the cargo bay the way it is, are you?

[Here, cat, have some mashed sardines and quit your complaining.]

[That gets a chuckle out of Natasha—both the question, and the way that Licorice digs into the sardine.]

Not even slightly. Might stop in to see what you're doing with it from time to time, though.

I'll have to make sure I do a good job, then. [She reaches down to scratch Licorice between the ears.] Any requests?

Just don't get too bedazzled. Otherwise... I'll leave it at the artist's discretion.

[Amused, but not discouraging.]

I'll be a hundred per cent as tasteful as I'm capable of being.

[This probably isn't the most reassuring. But Katie does love art, so it won't look too garish.]

[Not the most reassuring, no. But Natasha isn't too worried about it—not invested in the cargo bay as it is?]

That is a very tactful way to put it.

I thought so. Tact is very useful in my line of work, I use it often.

[...well. Only with small children. Sometimes. She's never getting promoted.]

Is it? [Maybe they never grew close, but it's somehow not a word Natasha would use for her broadly. In specific? Sure. Ironically? Absolutely.]

In most lines of work, really.

[Katie very rarely says what she means. It's one of those things people pick up on after a while.]

Oh, I suppose that's a fair point. I wonder what sort of professions would pay you to be brutally honest at all times.

Not many. Especially not if you're being brutally honest to everyone.

Most of us have a boss to answer to.

Mingle-ingle

Natasha Romanoff | MCU | OTA

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