unmakeme_tlv | [voice] first open, and then a couple of locks

[voice] first open, and then a couple of locks

For those who haven't already heard through the grapevine, Sokolov graduated. That means that he's heading home to take care of some business, and I'm done here.

To celebrate his accomplishment, there will be a party tomorrow evening in the pub. Vodka provided, possibly some beer, lots of food, whatever music this place has. If you want anything more than that, you'll have to bring it yourself.

[private to Arkin]

Speaking of food. I can't cook worth a damn. I'm sure you've figured that out by now. I can make edible things, taste just... never factors in.

[private to Raven]

Open to all does not include Loki. I don't know what your plans are with him, but please don't encourage him to come socialize. I will throw him out, and Sokolov deserves the focus here.

[[OOC: Natasha thinks she's done, but she's not. She's going to go home for a few days and realize she... did not quite manage to ask for what she needed, so she'll be back. She just doesn't know it yet.]]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

I can do something up. I'm pretty good with meat. [...wait. He realizes how that came out.]

Uh, you know what I mean.

[She laughs, and it's fantastic, and she thinks she might even miss him a little when she's gone.]

I've had the bacon. It was very impressive. I have absolutely no doubts.

It's hard to screw up bacon. What kinda stuff you want?

I've got a ton of stuff in my apartment. I went a little crazy in Los Angeles with the whole bottomless credit situation.

Do you want to just... come over?

Sure. Now, I'm assuming?

Why not? I'm not sleeping.

Just checking. I'll be there in a few minutes.

[And in a few minutes there'll be a knock on her door.]

[Natasha answers the door, looking very comfortable and unplanned. Bare feet, yoga pants, tank top, no makeup, hair in natural curls. It's not a look that's all that common outside her apartment. It's not even all that common in it.

She steps aside, nods her head to invite him in.]

You want a drink?

Uh, yeah. Beer if you have any.

[He comes in, shoving his hands in his pockets. He's a tad bit awkward but dealing with it.]

[Awkward is a given when you encounter a friend (if he thinks of her that way) regressed several decades and sharing aspects of an unpleasant childhood that go far beyond the level of intimacy you currently share. It's an awkward place to be, an awkward place to try and come back from. Honestly, if not for her impending departure, Natasha's not sure she wouldn't just be letting it go.

She disappears into the kitchen for a moment, comes back with a tumbler of vodka in her hand and two bottles of beer held in the other, necks crossed. She holds both out to him, one something fancy and German in dark glass, the other a Budweiser. His call. She's never been a big beer drinker.]

I feel like this was easier before you saw how fast I can demolish a box of oreos.

[She's going to deal with this, because she may not get another chance, and she doesn't want to have it hanging between them unfinished. Arkin is... special. There's not much here that she's going to miss. That makes it worth the effort.]

[He opts for the budweiser. He doesn't want to get too drunk or buzzed, he's a little worried about what he'll do around her if he got drunk.]

Pretty fast, I'd bet.

[He takes a sip of the beer.] You... uh, got your deal then, back home?

[She sets the other beer on the coffee table, takes a sip of her drink, tries to smile.]

Looks that way. One soul redeemed for one second chance. Seems a little too easy, but I'm not going to complain. I got pretty lucky with Sokolov. He actually wanted to be a good person right from the start. He just needed someone to point that out to him.

[Natasha shrugs her shoulders, like it's no big deal. But it is a big deal. It's huge.]

So, party. I've got a ton of food.

[With anyone else, she'd make a joke about buying in bulk and the perils of being caught in space while running low on Doritos. But Arkin saw the naked hunger in her young eyes. He knows that it comes from a bone-deep fear of going without, something she's never been able to shake. So she says nothing. She just takes him to the fridge, and then to the newly installed coffin-sized freezer.]

Lots of meat. Though, steaks aren't exactly finger food. Lots of Russian food. Plenty of alcohol. I don't think anyone at the party is going to care about high class once we get to the second case of booze. I just want enough good food that the party doesn't have to end until everyone is ready to leave.

What do you think?

[Arkin let's the subject of the deal drop. Everybody deal is important. He's just a bit jealous he hasn't gotten any progress on his. The present is more important right now.]

Hey, sounds good. [he shrugs] Steaks are easy enough to cut up, could make 'em into other things.

Some of these people here look like they'll try to eat all you put out.

[She backed out of his way as soon as they got in the kitchen, let him make his own rounds.]

Whatever you say. The kitchen is not exactly my home turf.

[She watches him wander around, poke about in her pantry, make metal lists. After a moment, she gets him a pad and pen, and then perches on the counter to watch him write. It's a rather abrupt physical reminder of the last time they were in this room. She'd been small enough to hide in a cupboard, then.]

Listen. I'm-- As near as I can tell, this place was more copied than taken. When I'm gone-- I've got a few things for Sokolov, some stuff for you. Everything else you can just... figure out between yourselves. But I want to know-- do you want a gun?

[Even if he'd never told her any details, Natasha would have known about the violence in his past. She's not stupid. The question is, does he avoid or embrace it now?]

[It's easier to keep busy as she talks. Most of what she says isn't a surprise but the gun thing gets him to look up.]

I got a gun. [Which... he won't fire because he's saving it for someone 'special.' Kind of defeats the purpose...] Doesn't fire though, I'm saving it for something.

What kind of gun are you offering?

You have a trophy.

[She has her guns and Clint's guns here. Some aren't for anyone else, special, but some are just incredibly efficient weapons. She slips off the counter, gulps down the last couple of the vodka in her glass, and leaves it behind.

A wall with a few little watercolours on it, nothing special. But there's a dual layer biometric scanner that opens at Natasha's command, the facade of exposed brick shifting aside to reveal an impressive collection of weapons. Not everything, though.

Her guns are a bit like spiders. Wherever you stand in her space, you're never more than ten feet from one.]

I didn't know if it was something-- I figured it was better to ask and be sure. That thing... these are better.

[She sweeps a hand in general offer.]

I've got more. Most of these are modified for faster loading. Smallest clip takes fourteen rounds instead of nine. Most of them have palm locks, but I can reset that for you, or take it off entirely.

Not a trophy. Unfinished business.

[That's an impressive thing of weapons. He knows a bit through hunting and his former line of work.]

Shit...

[After some staring he picks up a handgun. Checks it over. He sets it back down the checks another, a .45.]

This one?

[Natasha watches him select a gun, then another. Taking his time, making a smart choice. And even after her assurance, he still asks, doesn't assume that anything is his until it's given to him.

Not that she expected any different. It's why she made the offer in the first place.

When he looks at her, she nods, smiles again, leans her hip against the wall.]

If you want. Whatever you want. Things get far too real here far too often. I don't like the idea of leaving and you being... under-prepared.

[He's not quite one of her people, but he's close. This whole situation exists outside of her real life, of her world and her rules. But people still count. Just because no one stays dead, that doesn't mean she wants to see it happen. Even though she won't be seeing it. In its own strange way, that makes it worse.]

Sixteen in the standard clips, twenty in the extended. Quick release. Modified trigger. You can set the auto-firing pin here. You can mount a laser sight on it, if you need to, but... I think those little red dots do more harm than good, personally.

[He shrugs, while its tempting to get more... with the way he works smaller is better.]

Used to being under-prepared. I think that's part of the job description here.

[He checks over the gun again. Double checking the safety before tucking it in the back of his waistband.]

Don't need laser sight.

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