[open And we keep waiting to be seen, right?

[nikolaievich]

who: Illya Kuryakin & you
what: just a general catch-all
when: End of April and beginning of May
where: around the city shopping, gym
warnings: will add if needed



1; around

Illya doesn’t get out much.

It’s not being in a strange place, in a strange world full of strange people with futuristic technology. Or… rather, even though he has to admit that’s kind of getting under the skin, it’s not just that. He’s just used to keeping to himself, to doing things on his own and only relying on his boss to give him his orders and trust Illya will know what to do.

In here it’s different. In here he doesn’t have to hide, doesn’t have to keep in the shadows and become a shadow himself. In here he can get out and try to be a normal person. Or at least do his best to look like one, since the most people know about him is a fake name and his claims that he was a rowboat champion before he ended up in this place.

So there’s probably something… calming, in just doing normal things. Grocery shopping, checking out nearby libraries, just stopping at a park and watching the animals go by. It may seem boring to most people, but to Illya is kind of refreshing to be able to do all of this without a weight on his shoulders. He figures it will get boring eventually, but for now he enjoys his newfound freedom.

Enjoying it so much he doesn’t even notice the orange firefly circling him.

2; gym

It does get boring eventually, even with all the shenanigans going around.

Illya is used to physical exertion, to being active and working out as much as he can, as much as he’s healthy. Back home he needed his body to be in peak condition, to be able to fulfill every mission as fast as efficiently as possible. Most of them ended up with him running away or towards something, after all. But in here his job, while more interesting than what he had assumed when it had been assigned to him, doesn’t require much more than a inquisitive mind and knowing where to look, what questions to ask.

He really misses the exertion. So after asking around and getting some advice he’s finally decided to join a nearby gym.

He can be seen running himself ragged on the treadmill, doing weights or basically using every single machine he can find his hands on. Yay technology. Obviously not all on the same day, he’s stubborn but not suicidal… but someone should probably tell him to slow down.

3: OPEN option! Go wild. Poke me on DM or over at crotalus if you want a specific thread!

Comments

2;

[greyjane]

[Gyms are not her favourite way to keep in shape, but they're efficient. She runs in the mornings, but you can only do so much as far as weight resistance training goes without actual weights.

She's gone a couple days in a row now. Illya, for his part, is hard to miss. And so is the fact the man adopts one of the most punishing regimens she's ever seen a normal human (and he is a normal human, his thresholds for strength are well within what she's familiar with of the species and all) attempt.

So the next time he hits the weight bench, she saunters over to spot him and just sort of leans on the weight bar to keep him from picking it up straight off. She's heavier than she looks. Might actually outweigh him, for all that she's shorter.]

You know, if you like punishing yourself this much there are people you can hire to make it slightly more pleasurable.

[Get a dom/me, Illya.]

[nikolaievich]

[Illya knows he’s pushing himself more than most people do, so he’s tried to keep it in the down-low as much as he can. He had also done his best to keep an irregular schedule and making it hard for anyone following him to track him (old habits die hard), but in the end he’s still going to the gym twice a day nearly every day- thank whoever he has to thank for a job with an extremely flexible schedule.

But it still makes sense someone who goes the gym with certain regularity would notice him. He glances up at her with a raised eyebrow when she stops him from just lifting the bar.]

Do you mean yourself? Are you a trainer? [Sorry, that predictably went right over his head.]

[greyjane]

[lmao well okay then. It's rare that one of her very obvious innuendos goes completely unnoticed, but maybe it's a language barrier. His accent is certainly... distinct. (Not that hers isn't, she sounds like the bastard lovechild of an Australian and a South African, but that's her 'normal' and she tends not to think about it like that.)]

Not quite what I meant, but you aren't wrong.

[It's not exactly a lie. She's in charge of whipping new recruits into shape. The Greyjanes don't follow a strict military structure despite their use of military ranks, and most of their officers are simply the long-standing jacks of all trades that have survived long enough to multitask with some efficiency.]

Name's Shai, sweetheart. Who're you?

[nikolaievich]

Not sweetheart.

[He says matter-of-factly as he stands up so he’s sitting, closer to Shai’s eye-level.]

My name is Alexei. And I am not punishing myself, I am simply training. I do not want to slack off simply because I have been brought here against my will.

[greyjane]

[Touchy fella, isn't he? She just shrugs to the obvious correction. She'll play nice with folks that aren't savvy to the flirtations, why not.]

Alexei, then. What sort of training do you fancy?

(2)

[signifies]

( using brackets if that's ok )

[ Clark doesn't need to do weights or run on the treadmill to keep in shape. Besides, it would look weird if he did and he wasn't drenched in sweat after that.

He comes by after work to watch the amateur boxers in the gym. Clark makes a note of how they move so he can try the the same ones with Marcel during his lessons. Clark doesn't want to fight any of the locals or arrivals he knows to be human. It's not fair and he doesn't know how to use his strength in this setting.

If anyone asks, he says he was interested in covering boxing at home.

Clark isn't there every day but often enough to notice 'Alexei' there too. Today he finally approaches him, bringing a Gatorade along. ]

Is there a rowing competition I don't know about?

[ Slow down, roomie! ]

brackets are a-ok!

[nikolaievich]

[Illya likes keeping an eye on his surroundings, and he notices things even when he doesn’t mean to. So he had noticed Clark coming and going, even if he didn’t seem to be doing any training himself. He figured he just wasn’t an athletic kind of guy.

Clark’s a smart guy, too, so Illya’s not surprised when he’s eventually approached. Though does make him want to grin.]

I wish. But no, I simply wish to keep in shape and my current job isn’t exactly athletic.

[signifies]

[ He sets the bottle of Gatorade down near Illya and sits. Boxing will still be there the next time he comes to the gym. ]

What did they assign you to?

[nikolaievich]

[He pauses for a moment, because his job has nothing to do with being a rowboat champion and it will probably make Clark suspicious. But he doubts he could hide such a big part of his life from someone who literally lives with him.

This is why he usually likes being alone.]

I'm... something of a private investigator. I am there to make sure there is no foul play with the police.

1

[getjackedup]

[If anyone were to look they were find an entire outfit of clothes left in the wake of someone behind bushes in the park. A hoodie and jeans with shoes that look as if they were walked right out of. The simple t-shirt is torn, shredded through as if something fought its way out.

Others may notice the antlers. Bobbing up and down around the park as the black hare leaped over hedges and maneuvered around small trees. Then he jumped into the flower beds and rolled around a bit, enjoying the way the petals stuck to his horns and surrounded them with their scent. It had been months since he'd done this. Months since he'd given into that urge to be himself this way because danger wouldn't allow it.

Today he didn't give a damn. It felt like the more reasonable thing in the world to want and of course he should go for it. Why wouldn't he be himself? No one here cares. There's nothing stopping him. He's gotten wrapped up in the feel of it, to the point he almost doesn't notice the man that he has to jump to the side to avoid running into. He barely manages to avoid hitting him with his horns.]

[nikolaievich]

[Illya doesn’t deal with animals often.

He’s not afraid of them, in the slightest. Dogs have always been quite friendly with him, actually, even though he personally prefers cats. But pets demand a commitment he cannot give, at all and one doesn’t usually encounter wild animals often when spying different governments.

But he’s quite sure there’s no such thing as a deer with antlers in the world he comes from. So having one nearly run him over does get a raised eyebrow.]

What…

[So he does the most natural thing. He simply... jumps, trying to catch it.]

[getjackedup]

[The agility of his true form makes it easy to dodge even with the surprise of someone trying to grab him right there. He leaps to the side, twisting his body and jumping higher in the air so he can flip around without his antlers getting in the way. He takes in the sight of the man in front of him. The smell is familiar, but the view is always different, the colors blue and green and black and grey instead of the full range of his human-self.

He shakes his head, bringing up a leg to scratch the itch behind his ear.]

[nikolaievich]

Okay, fair. [He mutters to himself as he sits up from the ground. That obviously didn’t work, he should have figured. Rabbits are fast and agile and while he’s fast, he’s not that fast. But he’s still curious about what this creature could be. He’s never seen a rabbit like that- if that is even a rabbit.

He reaches for his bag, looking for something.]

I think I have- here.

[Finally he gets out a piece of bread. If he isn’t going to be able to jump and catch it, so maybe he can make it come to him?]

Perhaps you are hungry?

2

[anotheroldsoldier]

[Bucky Barnes is the last person to tell someone to slow down. He goes to the gym regularly, almost every day, to work out - different things each day, of course, so as not to overexert himself, and it comes in handy. He has to stay fit for several reasons, including his Perimeter Guard job.

Casually dressed, he sheds his jacket inside on top of his gym bag and makes his way over to the treadmills. There aren't that many here, and most of them are in use, so he motions to the one next to Illya with an inquisitive gaze. His metal arm is on full display in his tank top; he has no reason to hide it here, really.] This one free?

[nikolaievich]

[Illya nods, and for a few moments that is all the conversation he gives Bucky as he focuses on his own run. He seems to have been running for a while, and the treadmill’s program is making him slow down before he fully stops. Annoying, but he can see the logic behind it.]

That has an interesting glint. [He finally asks, motioning at Bucky’s metal arm with his chin. This is the closest Illya gets to being polite about asking, really.]

[anotheroldsoldier]

[He steps onto the treadmill and programs in a workout. He's already had a short run this morning, but he still sets it at a brutal pace. Bucky starts off at a light jog as the machine works him up, though.]

Huh? Oh. Yeah. I lost it in the war. [He's kind of used to having people ask about his prosthetic arm.]

[nikolaievich]

[And yet, to Illya the fact that he lost it in the war is more interesting than the fact that he has a metal arm at all.]

Were you a soldier?

[Closed] to Natasha

[nikolaievich]

[Illya is scratching the bite of the firefly on his arm, glaring at it like it’s personally guilty of all the problems in Illya’s life. Which, technically that’s not all that far from the truth. He would have stayed away from them if he had been warned of what they were able to, he’d have worn longer sleeves and made sure to stay inside unless absolutely necessary. The fireflies glow, so it’s not like he couldn’t have seen them coming if he had wanted to.

But instead, he let one of them bite him- the orange one, probably (in Illya’s opinion) the worst one he could have been bitten by. He already feels the compulsion, the… need to open up. It’s not a familiar feeling. It’s definitely not a feeling he wants to feel again in the future.

Which is why he’s all but running to the lift, ready to get into his floor and hole up in his room- when someone else rushes in right as the doors were going to start to close.]

[unmakeme]

Natasha ducks into the elevator right before the doors slip closed. She's just come off shift, she's tired, she's hungry, and she desperately wants a shower. "Thanks," she says with a nod. The man in the elevator with her looks anxious. She's clearly had this job for too long, because even though she doesn't want to care, she still asks: "Are you all right? Do you need--" Her sentence cuts off with a sharp his, and she smacks the side of her neck, bringing her hand down to stare at the squashed bug on her palm. "Shit. Did you see what colour it was?"

[nikolaievich]

“No.”

He’s quick to reply because it’s the truth, and right now telling her the truth and being honest feels like the most important thing in the world. Like he’s overflowing with information that needs to be shared, like letting everyone know everything about himself has become his number one priority. Like his usual paranoia has is fighting for control of his own brain.

“But it was probably orange.” She shows her his arm. “I was just bitten.”

[unmakeme]

Orange. Shit. Orange is bad. Orange is, from Natasha's point of view, perhaps the worst possible bug to be bitten by. Mostly because there is so much she wants to say, so much she wants to share with a found family that she no longer has, and she's not sure how to deal with any of it. She'd much rather the bug that makes you want to beat the living hell out of everyone who crosses your path.

The elevator jerks into motion, but her eyes don't leave Illya. She takes a deep breath, opens her mouth, and feels entirely incapable of stopping the flood of words that spew forth in place of her intended introduction. "I'm pretty certain that I'm beating my head against the wall here fighting to get back to a world that is never going to have a place for me again."

Orange.

Shit.

She screws her mouth up into a displeased frown, shifts her attention to the panel of buttons on the elevator, and pulls on the emergency stop. The elevator car jerks to an immediate standstill, and Natasha continues to glare at the panel of buttons rather than look at the man she's just trapped herself with. No way in hell is she putting herself in direct line of god knows who in these communal floors while she's feeling the intense urge to word vomit at random. If she's going to make an emotional mess of herself, at least she can try to contain it.

(3)

[signifies]

[ Clark is usually out for the weekend in the forest, either training or exploring. This time, he's looking for specific objects. Clark's not sure what Tony Stark will do with them but he had sounded sincere saying he wanted them for defence. Anyway, Clark intends to give him something small first. He's too wary of humans to do otherwise.

Illya had been in the room while he was packing so Clark had told him. He had become very interested after Clark explained he was familiar with the terrain. He said he hiked a lot. In a monster-infested forest.

He's not lying. Illya doesn't know his secret and Clark he likes feeling like a normal guy around him. It's a grounding feeling when the rest of his life has so much outside his control.

Normal guys don't take their roommate along with them to said monster-infested forest though. ]

Ready to go?

[nikolaievich]

[If anyone is lying here, it’s Illya. He hasn’t even told Clark his actual name, not to mention what he does for a living and the reason he’s so focused and so well trained. Even though he considers him one of the closest things he has to a friend in this place, he still keeps that part of him to himself.

He has the feeling there’s something Clark’s hiding. It’s nothing specific, he’s just good at telling when people hide things- pretty necessary for his line of job, after all. But he also gets the feeling Clark isn’t lying to him, not exactly. And he’s been nothing but helpful. So he pushes those feelings aside and those his best to be… well.

As friendly as Illya is able to get.]

I am ready.

[He’s been going on hunting expeditions so he dos at least look the part.]

[signifies]

[ He was never doing an amazing job of keeping that secret. In an enclosed city instead of a whole world, it's even harder.

Clark isn't about to put himself out there though. He won't make that choice for all the other Clarks and Kals out there, or those whose identities are connected to his, now that he knows they exist.

He nods. ]

Let's go.

[ As friendly as he is to Illya, Clark isn't a chatty person and will walk quietly. He'll be happy to engage in any conversation Illya initiates. ]

[nikolaievich]

[Illya is silence personified so he doesn’t seem bothered at all by Clark keeping to himself. Part of him wishes he would talk, of course, since what people willingly share is the easiest way to gather information about someone. But he can appreciate this side of Clark, as well.

But he does have some questions.]

Do you know where we are going, specifically?