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Entry tags:
Ximilia inbox
// belova
TEXT • AUDIO • VIDEO
XIMILIA
Ring-ring, Yelena, hope you're awake.
( It's... late, we'll just say late. )
( It's... late, we'll just say late. )
Made you something, thought I could run it by.
Just don't mention it aloud– our hosts have the whole place bugged, individual rooms and all.
Just don't mention it aloud– our hosts have the whole place bugged, individual rooms and all.
( Yelena is a woman after his own heart. He'll drop a pin for her as well: )
( Yeah, there's a little midnight diner a couple blocks away, I think it's one of Cheri's. Meet you there in a half-hour? )
( Yeah, there's a little midnight diner a couple blocks away, I think it's one of Cheri's. Meet you there in a half-hour? )
( He's waiting for her, tucked up in a booth with this planet's coffee-equivalent and an introspective look. When he sees her, he turns his gaze to the seat across from himself and sits straighter, pulling his dark coat a little more snugly around himself with his one hand. )
Can I get you some coffee? Or... whatever this stuff is; it's caffeinated, at least.
Can I get you some coffee? Or... whatever this stuff is; it's caffeinated, at least.
[Yelena slips into the opposite seat easily.]
Space coffee? Yes, I will try it.
["Space Coffee" seems like a perfectly reasonable name for a mysterious caffeinated alien drink. And she is absolutely down to try various alien foods and beverages, too.]
Do you like it?
Space coffee? Yes, I will try it.
["Space Coffee" seems like a perfectly reasonable name for a mysterious caffeinated alien drink. And she is absolutely down to try various alien foods and beverages, too.]
Do you like it?
( Tony shrugs, peering down into his half-empty mug of dark brown and caramel blond swirl. )
Well enough. Kind of a, nuttier flavor profile- ( he catches the waitress' eye, managing to signal his wishes- one more cuppa and some menus -with some success. She's grabbing for the space coffee pot behind the counter, anyway. )
How's the nightlife in this town?
Well enough. Kind of a, nuttier flavor profile- ( he catches the waitress' eye, managing to signal his wishes- one more cuppa and some menus -with some success. She's grabbing for the space coffee pot behind the counter, anyway. )
How's the nightlife in this town?
Not bad. But it depends a little on where you go.
[Yelena preferred Cheri's clubs to the ones that catered specifically to the Featherstones.
When the waitress approaches, Yelena takes the offered menu and starts looking at it as she pours the coffee.]
I hope they have pancakes.
[Or something like pancakes.]
[Yelena preferred Cheri's clubs to the ones that catered specifically to the Featherstones.
When the waitress approaches, Yelena takes the offered menu and starts looking at it as she pours the coffee.]
I hope they have pancakes.
[Or something like pancakes.]
( Fair. Tony glances over the menu briefly, not really hungry- and then looks more closely, surprised to see pretty standard diner fare. Different names, of course, but the trappings are all there: breakfasty-sounding stuff, sandwiches, fried things and bread-y things perfect to ward off potential hangovers with... )
Oh. Huh, what do you know, they do.
( After some hemming and hawing, he opts for what looked to be a sandwich of cold cuts, and waits for the waitress to depart, before ducking to grab for something at his feet. Where did I, ah! )
Merry belated-birthday-slash-Xmas, ( he declares, and slides an innocuous grey box across the table to her. Inside, nested neatly against the velvet liner, are a brand new set of Widow's Bites. )
Oh. Huh, what do you know, they do.
( After some hemming and hawing, he opts for what looked to be a sandwich of cold cuts, and waits for the waitress to depart, before ducking to grab for something at his feet. Where did I, ah! )
Merry belated-birthday-slash-Xmas, ( he declares, and slides an innocuous grey box across the table to her. Inside, nested neatly against the velvet liner, are a brand new set of Widow's Bites. )
I don't actually know when my birthday is.
[Her tone is matter of fact, like this is just something she's come to accept. But it means, for all she knows this isn't late at all. It could be early.
She pauses her perusal of the menu and takes the box to look inside. She doesn't take them out of the box, to avoid drawing attention, but she looks pleased.]
Oh, these are good.
[Her tone is matter of fact, like this is just something she's come to accept. But it means, for all she knows this isn't late at all. It could be early.
She pauses her perusal of the menu and takes the box to look inside. She doesn't take them out of the box, to avoid drawing attention, but she looks pleased.]
Oh, these are good.
( His expression faults at that, some little flicker of sorrow smoothed away a second later by his mild interest.
What for? He doesn't know her, not really. She's Natasha's sister, yes, unknown to most of the team, and she went through the same training as her older sister. What he'd dug out of SHIELD's files said the Red Room took girls as young as five, as young as Morgan.
How old were you, when you were taken?
Tony picks up his coffee and takes a sip, smirking slyly over the rim. )
The guys in the lab just had perfectly useful equipment lying around. Seemed a tragedy to let it go to waste.
What for? He doesn't know her, not really. She's Natasha's sister, yes, unknown to most of the team, and she went through the same training as her older sister. What he'd dug out of SHIELD's files said the Red Room took girls as young as five, as young as Morgan.
How old were you, when you were taken?
Tony picks up his coffee and takes a sip, smirking slyly over the rim. )
The guys in the lab just had perfectly useful equipment lying around. Seemed a tragedy to let it go to waste.
[Yelena wouldn’t be offended by the question if he asked, but her answer might put a real damper on the mood of the conversation.
She huffs a little laugh at what he says out loud.]
Oh, yes, that was very careless of them.
[She tucks the box beside her on the booth, away from prying eyes and then glances at Tony again.]
I was thinking, too, that we could use some listen devices of our own.
She huffs a little laugh at what he says out loud.]
Oh, yes, that was very careless of them.
[She tucks the box beside her on the booth, away from prying eyes and then glances at Tony again.]
I was thinking, too, that we could use some listen devices of our own.
Edited (Very belatedly noticed a redundancy, my bad) 2021-09-27 07:20 (UTC)
( He quirks an eyebrow, and sets his coffee down. )
Have you and Quill been talking?
Have you and Quill been talking?
[ The roof top is quiet this late at night, and even down below the jazz club has started dwindling in its activity. Sam's sitting on a palette propped against a wall, head tipped back. There's not much in terms of star gazing to be done - too much light pollution. He feels home sick for Earth, for Louisiana, for the boat. Homesick for people, too.
Redwing's on perimeter duty, making sure they remain undisturbed. So Sam doesn't startle when the door opens and closes - knows it's Yelena already.
There's tension in his shoulders. His eyes are still a little puffy and a little glassy, but his cheeks are dry and he's gathered as much of his composure as he could. When Yelena approaches, he pats the palette next to him in invitation to join him as he sits up a little and looks at her, hands clasped between his knees. ]
Thanks. For coming. Sit with me?
Redwing's on perimeter duty, making sure they remain undisturbed. So Sam doesn't startle when the door opens and closes - knows it's Yelena already.
There's tension in his shoulders. His eyes are still a little puffy and a little glassy, but his cheeks are dry and he's gathered as much of his composure as he could. When Yelena approaches, he pats the palette next to him in invitation to join him as he sits up a little and looks at her, hands clasped between his knees. ]
Thanks. For coming. Sit with me?
[Yelena pauses when she gets to the roof and takes in the scene, noting Sam's body language. When he called her she assumed it was something mission related. They're both Featherstones, it would make sense for him to call her if he needed back up or something.
But it's obvious that this isn't about the mission. This is something more personal. She feels a knot of anxiety form in the pit of her stomach as she approaches him.]
Okay.
[She says the word slowly, her tone betraying her uncertainty and confusion. She does take a seat next to him, though.]
What's going on?
But it's obvious that this isn't about the mission. This is something more personal. She feels a knot of anxiety form in the pit of her stomach as she approaches him.]
Okay.
[She says the word slowly, her tone betraying her uncertainty and confusion. She does take a seat next to him, though.]
What's going on?
[ There's no easy way to say this, not when Sam knows he can't look as unaffected as he wishes - he does his best to tamp down on the hurt for Yelena's sake though. Pushes it down. Right now it's not about him. So Sam angles his body towards her, meets her eyes with as much kindness as he can put in there.
Braces himself. Worse than receiving bad news is having to deliver them, and knowing you'll wound someone who doesn't deserve this kind of hurt. ]
I have bad news. I spent most of the day making sure so I wouldn't put something on your shoulders unnecessarily. And now I know so... I gotta tell you in person, and I gotta tell you in private. Redwing's keeping the roof clear. We're alone. [ She'll have room for any reaction, any way to feel her way through this. Room for yelling, room for tears, room for whatever it takes. ].
I'm sorry, Yelena. It's Natasha. She's... gone. Not missing on a mission here. Not returned to the station. She's just... gone. No longer connected to Ximilia. Which... probably means she's back home. And that means...
[ Sam has to swallow, drops the sentence. They know what it means - it means Natasha is dead. Just like she was. Just like she wasn't here.
He reaches out carefully, brushes his fingers against Yelena's arm. An offer for contact - easily shaken off if she doesn't want it. Easy to pull her in if she needs it. ]
Braces himself. Worse than receiving bad news is having to deliver them, and knowing you'll wound someone who doesn't deserve this kind of hurt. ]
I have bad news. I spent most of the day making sure so I wouldn't put something on your shoulders unnecessarily. And now I know so... I gotta tell you in person, and I gotta tell you in private. Redwing's keeping the roof clear. We're alone. [ She'll have room for any reaction, any way to feel her way through this. Room for yelling, room for tears, room for whatever it takes. ].
I'm sorry, Yelena. It's Natasha. She's... gone. Not missing on a mission here. Not returned to the station. She's just... gone. No longer connected to Ximilia. Which... probably means she's back home. And that means...
[ Sam has to swallow, drops the sentence. They know what it means - it means Natasha is dead. Just like she was. Just like she wasn't here.
He reaches out carefully, brushes his fingers against Yelena's arm. An offer for contact - easily shaken off if she doesn't want it. Easy to pull her in if she needs it. ]
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