[ She does not expect either politeness or tentativeness from Alexei. It's not that he is rude, but he is blunt. She's made herself available to him, so this is likely not just tea and conversation, which means...
...this is probably going to be... emotional, irritating, or some kind of nebulous thing bouncing in between. But she'd rather deal with it than have the Red Guardian rattling around. ]
We can talk. Over tea?
[ Because, actually, she is very funny, even if just for her own amusement. ]
[He doesn't know if he's relieved that she accepted the request. He knows he should be, since he's the one who asked, but if she'd said no he wouldn't have had to face what's coming.]
[ Meet him someplace without clear exits? She doesn't think so. ]
I'll meet you at the Prancing Pony. They serve both. 1900 works.
[ She'll be there a little earlier, because that is how she operates, and will secure them a table by the wall, without either of their backs needing to be at the door. ]
[It's a little hurtful that Natasha would choose a neutral middle ground instead of a cozy home, but... Well, Alexei brought this on himself in more ways than one. He should be glad she'll make it less personal than Yelena would.]
1900 it is.
[It should be clear to Natasha the moment he arrives that Alexei's settled into Folkmore nicely over the past month. He's cleaned himself up for the most part, beard trimmed a little more and his clothing actually somewhat normal. What stands out most now is any tattoos still laid bare.
And he is, of course, ten minutes late. He rushes over to the table to take his seat across from Natasha.]
Sorry, sorry. I missed the train to get here. It sped off right as I walk out onto platform. Trains here have it out for me, I am sure of it.
[ Alexei has seriously overestimated Natasha's journey toward personhood if he thinks her rooms would meet any common definition of cozy.
She is not tapping a finger on the table as the clock ticks past their appointed time, but that is only because Natasha Romanoff doesn't do things like signal she is actually waiting for someone. She has, however, pushed her chair back from the table slightly and when he enters in a rush, there is a light scowl on her face. His carelessness is not charming.
She allows the disapproval to remain on her face for a moment before compartmentalizing it and locking it away. Whatever he wants is going to be difficult enough to get through without her holding on to petty offenses. She already knows what she does and doesn't mean to Alexei Shostakov.
He is who he is, and although the man had been capable of running a three-year undercover operation, he'd also been institutionalized for over a decade. Folkmore is, chronologically, his first brush at freedom since that time. She knows from experience that acclimation to such things as managing your own schedule can be a bitch. ]
Well, you made it. And hopefully were caught in no murder mysteries along the way. [ She takes a sip of the tap water, having waited for him to order. ] So what will it be? Tea or something stronger?
[A loud squeak echoes through the pub as he moves his chair closer to the table after sitting down. Those chair legs scraping across the ground sure do make a lovely sound, don't they? If Alexei saw any reason for it, he would've been more discreet and taken care not to draw attention to their table, but... He doesn't have that reason. They're not exactly on the run anymore- not in a place like this one.]
Stronger. Do they have vodka? Or some kind of whiskey, maybe?
[He's going to need the alcohol, he's sure of it. And the super soldier metabolism ensures he's going to need lots of it.]
[ Natasha gives him a measuring look. She doesn't think very much of alcohol as a numbing agent, and she's getting a little annoyed with not knowing exactly what he wants.
But there's a reason why she brought him here. And it's not as though she hasn't employed alcohol for this purpose herself. ]
I'll go order,
[ simply, because it will be easier.
She stands to make her way over to the bar. ]
You figure out how you want to start this.
[ Because she isn't going to wait much longer.
When she returns, it will be with a bottle of vodka and two glasses. ]
[It's clear from her words that she's not interested in small talk. Straight to the point, focused on the purpose of the meeting... It's the same as when they were searching for the Red Room, so he shouldn't be surprised, but damn if it doesn't hurt a little. What makes it hurt more is that he brought this on himself too. And on her, arguably.
He waits for her to return with an antsy demeanor, the side of his foot absentmindedly tapping against the side of the table. He doesn't actually know how to start this. He's had several weeks and he still doesn't know.
His lips curl into a meek grin at the sight of that bottle in her hand.]
Aah, see! Perfect. That looks like a good brand. Is it? I do not know much about otherworldly vodka.
Natasha takes a bracing breath, sits down, and pours them both two fingers worth of vodka. ]
Let's find out.
[ She holds up her glass across the table. ]
Cheers.
[ He's got two minutes before she makes this very direct, but she can see the floundering. There isn't much give in her expression... or in her heart, really. He's the one who'd made this seem like an urgent matter; he's the one who asked for this. But while she doesn't have much room in her heart for regret toward their relationship, she feels... obligated, in a way. Because she only ever found her way out because Clint saw something in her worth keeping alive, because Steve believed in her. And though she can not look at Alexei without seeing the shadows of their past, she doesn't want to shut the door on him.
...even though she wants to shut the door on him. It would be simpler. And far less painful. ]
[He indulges the toast, even if he doesn't acknowledge it vocally. "Cheers" is a very American way of doing it, and the Russian way would have him struggling to find a particular thing to toast to. To their health? To their hosts? None of it feels right in the moment, so he raises his glass in silence before downing the contents in one go. He feels a warm prickle in the back of his throat, but not much else. The taste is nice, though.]
Ahh. That is good. Very good.
[Idle small talk to fill the air. He knows he can't dodge the matter for much longer, though, so he tries to lead into it from the beginning.]
Did you get taken for the trial last month? On the train? Going from room to room?
[ The last time Natasha had vodka, it had been with Tony in his garage at an indecent hour of the morning. They'd shared each other's memories. It had been uncomfortable. And also because of vodka.
It hits the back of her throat and she sets down the cup, continuing to look at Alexei expectantly.
...okay, context is helpful. She starts to try to piece together what this could be. ]
[It takes him a second before he can answer the question, since there's a few mixed feelings involved he needs to sort through.]
It was good! At first. I got to fight different enemies, it was very exciting. And then... Then it became less good. Puzzles and riddles, very obnoxious. [He pauses, then sets his glass down beside the bottle again, hoping for a refill. He goes from conflicted to apprehensive soon enough.] ... And then I was teamed up with Steve Rogers.
[ The bottle is right there. If he wants a refill, he can refill it himself.
Natasha's attention rests on Alexei, clearly listening closely. Her attitude is one of evaluation without judgement. ]
Yes, I heard you two had met.
[ Though she hadn't heard they'd been paired in a trial. She's glad that wasn't something physically messy, unless that was something Steve had kept from her. ]
[When Alexei had first heard about the Snap, he'd lost his temper. Not because of the Snap itself and what it implied, but Steve's refusal to give detail. The trial had claimed that one of his two daughters had been lost, but not which one. And while it sounded like all the damage had been undone, there was something about Steve's reaction that didn't add up about it.
He doesn't want to know, but he has to know. His gaze lingers on the bottle for a long moment, but he doesn't want to spend his own attention on refilling the glass just yet. Finally, he sits back and fixes Natasha with a sober gaze.]
[ Natasha leans back and gives Alexei a measuring look.
She knows that any attempt to get him to think about what he does and doesn't want to know will only increase his anxiety. Alexei's a lot of things, but he isn't a coward. She can tell he's made up his mind - he wants to know.
And it's probably better that he hears about it from her.
All the same. That's not going to stop her from attempting to manage the situation. ]
The Trials brought up something from your future? That's low.
[He doesn't like that answer. He doesn't like it for several reasons. It's confirmation, it's too nonchalant for what he's already learned, it doesn't sound right. His jaws clench and his eyes narrow.]
It is not just my own future, is it? You, Yelena, Melina... Entire universe, or so magic trial man said.
[With that out there, he does reach for the bottle to refill his glass. So much liquid goes into it that it almost overflows, but he manages to stop himself just in time. His hope is that Natasha will talk while he occupies himself.]
I wouldn’t put too much faith in a magic trial man, but in this case it’s an accurate statement. [ Her expression is controlled, neutral. ] There was a universe-altering event.
[ The weirdest thing about that phrase is that it’s no longer weird uttering it.
She weighs the odds and realizes… unfortunately, she’s bet on less. It must be the company she keeps. ]
In all I’ve been able to discover here, many people have returned home from Folkmore and then come back here. Only two people have had any memory of this place when they returned and as far as I know, only one was able to act on that information. Do you really want to carry this when there’s a good chance it won’t make any difference? It hasn’t happened for you yet, you don’t need to deal with it.
[ Of course, she knows what she’s doing. He won’t listen to the small odds after as comfort; she knows she won’t really be able to dissuade him. Natasha is telling him the truth. The odds are astronomically small that he can do anything about the Snap when he returns home. But they don’t not exist. And she isn’t above giving him some hope to stubbornly cling to despite her ‘advice’ against it to make it easier for him to deal with, and for her to deal with him… even though the math isn’t in her favor, she isn’t one to ignore any opportunity to turn a situation to her advantage. ]
[The thought of making a difference hadn't even crossed his mind as something he could do, because as far as he understood it, it's already set in stone. It's his future. Their future. If changing it were ever an option, wouldn't it not be their future? But now that Natasha's brought it up... Apparently one person was able to go home and act on that information. That's all the more reason he wants to know about it now.]
I am already dealing with it.
[He finishes refilling his glass and sets the bottle down again, the movement a little harsher than intended. Thankfully, the bottle doesn't break. And while he hates referring to the imaginary talkshow host as 'magic trial man', he doesn't know what else to call it. He doesn't know how much of that was real, beyond the statements being uttered. He doubts that guy had any media training, that's for sure.]
Magical trial man said that I lose one of my daughters. One. But Steve Rogers wouldn't tell me who. So. Who is it?
[ Something about the way he says my daughters makes Natasha want to punch Alexei in the teeth, even though she knows the throat would be more effective.
There is a brief, sharp downward tug of the corners of her mouth, and not only because she's fighting the urge to indulge in violence. The gnawing, massive grief, the loss, had been compartmentalized of necessity. Someone had to do the job that was in front of her, and as long as she was breathing, Natasha Romanoff was that someone.
She'd still had her darker moments. They'd helped to make her decision on Vormir easy, painless. She still does not regret it.
Natasha reaches for the bottle and pours herself a precise two fingers' worth of vodka. ]
That's a different question, [ she observes, and places the bottle back on the table in a motion so controlled it makes no sound. She doesn't want to tell him a story that's not hers, but even though lying to him and saying it was her would be easier - and in a roundabout way, true, there were problems with that as well. ] Steve was right not to tell you.
[ She picks up her glass and examines the liquid inside it. She's not going to betray her sister's trust to satisfy Alexei's curiosity. ]
I'll talk to you about the Snap. And Yelena and I will discuss if we want to talk about which of us was lost. Trying to figure it out through the process of elimination here won't give you the truth. We deserve the right to make this choice together.
[ She takes a sip of her vodka and sets it down between them with a definitive clack. ]
[Alexei doesn't notice Natasha's immediate reaction. He's too lost in what she's about to say- or should say, if he had his way. He used the word 'daughters' because that's what was said in the trial, but it's still very much a label he agrees with. It doesn't matter how long it's been, or how those two feel about it now. In Alexei's mind, no matter how misplaced the sentiment, both Natasha and Yelena will always be 'his girls'. That's all the more reason for the attitude he's being given to hurt.
His features scrunch up into an annoyed, almost childish scowl of disapproval. It's such an easy question, and yet nobody wants to give him a real answer.]
I did not ask Yelena because I don't want to upset her. She is very emotional. But you... You take after Melina. That is why I thought you would be straightforward about it.
[And while both his mouth and his brain utter 'straightforward', the subconscious thought behind it translates to 'detached'. That much could very well be surmised through the context in which he says it. Hardly a flattering thing for him to say, but in Alexei's book, being compared to Melina is the highest of praise.]
sorry, I got stuck and needed to double-check things with Bev and life attacked
[ Natasha's eyes narrow. That's a lot of presumption for someone who spent two years with her a lifetime ago. He's not wrong, though, and that's the infuriating part of it. She knows there are ways that she and Melina align. That's how she was able to tell something was off, why they were able to so quickly make a plan...
Her lips compress and she ignores him for a moment, taking out her relic and sending Yelena a text. She looks back up at him to explain, because she knows he must be bursting with impatience. ]
I am confirming something with Yelena. I will wait for her to respond before I talk about anything regarding who was taken. If you want other information about the Snap, I will talk about that.
[ If not, they can just sit here, for all she cares. She's already told him what she will and won't do, and he doesn't get to take her choice from her. ]
[He's bursting, alright. He's annoyed and impatient and, deep down, scared. Even if the effects of the Snap are apparently undone later, it doesn't change that many people died, loved ones included. He hasn't even heard anything yet about how it affected Melina or himself. Natasha is making it clear now he won't be getting any answers about herself and Yelena just yet, so he could take the opportunity to ask about Melina instead, but this step already cost him so much effort.
Scowling a second time, though now with more petulance, he lifts his glass again and drains it in one go. Not that changes anything. All it did was buy him a little more time to consider the offer.]
I don't know, it is... hard to believe. Half of all life in the universe? All of it? Even dogs? Even fish? [It's the most menial question he could ask, but he might as well, since they're waiting for Yelena's response.]
[ Her expression goes more composed, controlled. Her tone is slightly dry. ]
Even plants.
[ It was bizarre and juvenile, the logic of a three-year-old with a stubbed toe. All the power in the universe, the power of a creator, and that was Thanos' choice?
It had been possibly the most horrific loss she'd ever experienced. And everyone had experienced it at the same time. The world had been broken because she had failed to stop it from being broken. And there was no filling that hole, there was only moving on.
And then, there had been the chance to wind it all back, to make it right. The choice had been so simple. ]
[Even plants? That strikes Alexei as so incredibly senseless, because what did plants ever do to anyone? It leaves him speechless- a situation that always comes rare for him. The thought of such a barren world and the chaos it would cause is chilling. His lips press into a thin line and he sets the glass down on the table. When words finally do come to him, they form some very typical questions.]
[ Natasha debates for a moment, but decides to tell him the truth, regardless. She doesn't need to protect him. That's not her job. ]
He was an idealist. He didn't care who or what he had to sacrifice to achieve what he thought was the greater good. [ A beat, because at least in this way, there was a difference. ] The deaths were the point, for Thanos. He thought it would make things better for the survivors, if there was more space.
[ She fills her glass. ] He was an idiot. [ She tosses the drink back, welcoming the sting. Fucker. ] But a powerful one.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
getscooperation) wrote2024-04-01 07:14 pm
no subject
...this is probably going to be... emotional, irritating, or some kind of nebulous thing bouncing in between. But she'd rather deal with it than have the Red Guardian rattling around. ]
We can talk. Over tea?
[ Because, actually, she is very funny, even if just for her own amusement. ]
no subject
Tea or something stronger.
Your place or mine?
no subject
I'll meet you at the Prancing Pony. They serve both. 1900 works.
[ She'll be there a little earlier, because that is how she operates, and will secure them a table by the wall, without either of their backs needing to be at the door. ]
no subject
1900 it is.
[It should be clear to Natasha the moment he arrives that Alexei's settled into Folkmore nicely over the past month. He's cleaned himself up for the most part, beard trimmed a little more and his clothing actually somewhat normal. What stands out most now is any tattoos still laid bare.
And he is, of course, ten minutes late. He rushes over to the table to take his seat across from Natasha.]
Sorry, sorry. I missed the train to get here. It sped off right as I walk out onto platform. Trains here have it out for me, I am sure of it.
no subject
She is not tapping a finger on the table as the clock ticks past their appointed time, but that is only because Natasha Romanoff doesn't do things like signal she is actually waiting for someone. She has, however, pushed her chair back from the table slightly and when he enters in a rush, there is a light scowl on her face. His carelessness is not charming.
She allows the disapproval to remain on her face for a moment before compartmentalizing it and locking it away. Whatever he wants is going to be difficult enough to get through without her holding on to petty offenses. She already knows what she does and doesn't mean to Alexei Shostakov.
He is who he is, and although the man had been capable of running a three-year undercover operation, he'd also been institutionalized for over a decade. Folkmore is, chronologically, his first brush at freedom since that time. She knows from experience that acclimation to such things as managing your own schedule can be a bitch. ]
Well, you made it. And hopefully were caught in no murder mysteries along the way. [ She takes a sip of the tap water, having waited for him to order. ] So what will it be? Tea or something stronger?
no subject
Stronger. Do they have vodka? Or some kind of whiskey, maybe?
[He's going to need the alcohol, he's sure of it. And the super soldier metabolism ensures he's going to need lots of it.]
no subject
But there's a reason why she brought him here. And it's not as though she hasn't employed alcohol for this purpose herself. ]
I'll go order,
[ simply, because it will be easier.
She stands to make her way over to the bar. ]
You figure out how you want to start this.
[ Because she isn't going to wait much longer.
When she returns, it will be with a bottle of vodka and two glasses. ]
no subject
He waits for her to return with an antsy demeanor, the side of his foot absentmindedly tapping against the side of the table. He doesn't actually know how to start this. He's had several weeks and he still doesn't know.
His lips curl into a meek grin at the sight of that bottle in her hand.]
Aah, see! Perfect. That looks like a good brand. Is it? I do not know much about otherworldly vodka.
[Still dodging the point.]
no subject
Natasha takes a bracing breath, sits down, and pours them both two fingers worth of vodka. ]
Let's find out.
[ She holds up her glass across the table. ]
Cheers.
[ He's got two minutes before she makes this very direct, but she can see the floundering. There isn't much give in her expression... or in her heart, really. He's the one who'd made this seem like an urgent matter; he's the one who asked for this. But while she doesn't have much room in her heart for regret toward their relationship, she feels... obligated, in a way. Because she only ever found her way out because Clint saw something in her worth keeping alive, because Steve believed in her. And though she can not look at Alexei without seeing the shadows of their past, she doesn't want to shut the door on him.
...even though she wants to shut the door on him. It would be simpler. And far less painful. ]
no subject
Ahh. That is good. Very good.
[Idle small talk to fill the air. He knows he can't dodge the matter for much longer, though, so he tries to lead into it from the beginning.]
Did you get taken for the trial last month? On the train? Going from room to room?
no subject
It hits the back of her throat and she sets down the cup, continuing to look at Alexei expectantly.
...okay, context is helpful. She starts to try to piece together what this could be. ]
I did. How was your first Trial?
no subject
It was good! At first. I got to fight different enemies, it was very exciting. And then... Then it became less good. Puzzles and riddles, very obnoxious. [He pauses, then sets his glass down beside the bottle again, hoping for a refill. He goes from conflicted to apprehensive soon enough.] ... And then I was teamed up with Steve Rogers.
no subject
Natasha's attention rests on Alexei, clearly listening closely. Her attitude is one of evaluation without judgement. ]
Yes, I heard you two had met.
[ Though she hadn't heard they'd been paired in a trial. She's glad that wasn't something physically messy, unless that was something Steve had kept from her. ]
no subject
He doesn't want to know, but he has to know. His gaze lingers on the bottle for a long moment, but he doesn't want to spend his own attention on refilling the glass just yet. Finally, he sits back and fixes Natasha with a sober gaze.]
What is the Snap?
no subject
She knows that any attempt to get him to think about what he does and doesn't want to know will only increase his anxiety. Alexei's a lot of things, but he isn't a coward. She can tell he's made up his mind - he wants to know.
And it's probably better that he hears about it from her.
All the same. That's not going to stop her from attempting to manage the situation. ]
The Trials brought up something from your future? That's low.
no subject
It is not just my own future, is it? You, Yelena, Melina... Entire universe, or so magic trial man said.
[With that out there, he does reach for the bottle to refill his glass. So much liquid goes into it that it almost overflows, but he manages to stop himself just in time. His hope is that Natasha will talk while he occupies himself.]
no subject
I wouldn’t put too much faith in a magic trial man, but in this case it’s an accurate statement. [ Her expression is controlled, neutral. ] There was a universe-altering event.
[ The weirdest thing about that phrase is that it’s no longer weird uttering it.
She weighs the odds and realizes… unfortunately, she’s bet on less. It must be the company she keeps. ]
In all I’ve been able to discover here, many people have returned home from Folkmore and then come back here. Only two people have had any memory of this place when they returned and as far as I know, only one was able to act on that information. Do you really want to carry this when there’s a good chance it won’t make any difference? It hasn’t happened for you yet, you don’t need to deal with it.
[ Of course, she knows what she’s doing. He won’t listen to the small odds after as comfort; she knows she won’t really be able to dissuade him. Natasha is telling him the truth. The odds are astronomically small that he can do anything about the Snap when he returns home. But they don’t not exist. And she isn’t above giving him some hope to stubbornly cling to despite her ‘advice’ against it to make it easier for him to deal with, and for her to deal with him… even though the math isn’t in her favor, she isn’t one to ignore any opportunity to turn a situation to her advantage. ]
no subject
I am already dealing with it.
[He finishes refilling his glass and sets the bottle down again, the movement a little harsher than intended. Thankfully, the bottle doesn't break. And while he hates referring to the imaginary talkshow host as 'magic trial man', he doesn't know what else to call it. He doesn't know how much of that was real, beyond the statements being uttered. He doubts that guy had any media training, that's for sure.]
Magical trial man said that I lose one of my daughters. One. But Steve Rogers wouldn't tell me who. So. Who is it?
no subject
There is a brief, sharp downward tug of the corners of her mouth, and not only because she's fighting the urge to indulge in violence. The gnawing, massive grief, the loss, had been compartmentalized of necessity. Someone had to do the job that was in front of her, and as long as she was breathing, Natasha Romanoff was that someone.
She'd still had her darker moments. They'd helped to make her decision on Vormir easy, painless. She still does not regret it.
Natasha reaches for the bottle and pours herself a precise two fingers' worth of vodka. ]
That's a different question, [ she observes, and places the bottle back on the table in a motion so controlled it makes no sound. She doesn't want to tell him a story that's not hers, but even though lying to him and saying it was her would be easier - and in a roundabout way, true, there were problems with that as well. ] Steve was right not to tell you.
[ She picks up her glass and examines the liquid inside it. She's not going to betray her sister's trust to satisfy Alexei's curiosity. ]
I'll talk to you about the Snap. And Yelena and I will discuss if we want to talk about which of us was lost. Trying to figure it out through the process of elimination here won't give you the truth. We deserve the right to make this choice together.
[ She takes a sip of her vodka and sets it down between them with a definitive clack. ]
no subject
His features scrunch up into an annoyed, almost childish scowl of disapproval. It's such an easy question, and yet nobody wants to give him a real answer.]
I did not ask Yelena because I don't want to upset her. She is very emotional. But you... You take after Melina. That is why I thought you would be straightforward about it.
[And while both his mouth and his brain utter 'straightforward', the subconscious thought behind it translates to 'detached'. That much could very well be surmised through the context in which he says it. Hardly a flattering thing for him to say, but in Alexei's book, being compared to Melina is the highest of praise.]
sorry, I got stuck and needed to double-check things with Bev and life attacked
Her lips compress and she ignores him for a moment, taking out her relic and sending Yelena a text. She looks back up at him to explain, because she knows he must be bursting with impatience. ]
I am confirming something with Yelena. I will wait for her to respond before I talk about anything regarding who was taken. If you want other information about the Snap, I will talk about that.
[ If not, they can just sit here, for all she cares. She's already told him what she will and won't do, and he doesn't get to take her choice from her. ]
no subject
Scowling a second time, though now with more petulance, he lifts his glass again and drains it in one go. Not that changes anything. All it did was buy him a little more time to consider the offer.]
I don't know, it is... hard to believe. Half of all life in the universe? All of it? Even dogs? Even fish? [It's the most menial question he could ask, but he might as well, since they're waiting for Yelena's response.]
no subject
Even plants.
[ It was bizarre and juvenile, the logic of a three-year-old with a stubbed toe. All the power in the universe, the power of a creator, and that was Thanos' choice?
It had been possibly the most horrific loss she'd ever experienced. And everyone had experienced it at the same time. The world had been broken because she had failed to stop it from being broken. And there was no filling that hole, there was only moving on.
And then, there had been the chance to wind it all back, to make it right. The choice had been so simple. ]
no subject
What is the point? Why take away that much?
no subject
He was an idealist. He didn't care who or what he had to sacrifice to achieve what he thought was the greater good. [ A beat, because at least in this way, there was a difference. ] The deaths were the point, for Thanos. He thought it would make things better for the survivors, if there was more space.
[ She fills her glass. ] He was an idiot. [ She tosses the drink back, welcoming the sting. Fucker. ] But a powerful one.