Natasha Romanoff / Black Widow (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
unmakeme) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
riverviewlogs2017-03-16 09:34 pm
unmakeme) wrote in riverviewlogs2017-03-16 09:34 pm
march catch all
WHO: Natasha Romanoff and others
WHAT: guarding the perimeter, fighting monsters, helping during the blackout
WHERE: the housing building, the perimeter, beyond the fence, wherever
NOTES: Natasha has an open top level for the festival during the beginning of the month. If you have any questions, or would like a custom starter, PM me or hit me up on plurk. Also, I'm totally fine with getting tags in actionspam if that's how you're comfortable writing, but I'm comfortable writing in prose. So in that case, our styles won't match. I'm good with it if you are.
one
Natasha's still not thrilled to be here, but she accepts that she's stuck. She also accepts that she's not going to be able to fulfill her quota and get home if the whole place goes to shit in the next couple of weeks. Ill fitting or not, her world is still hers, and she has a right to it. She might not have a right to much, but she figures her place on the planet is something she can safely claim.
She takes her job with the Guard, and she does it well. She's good at it, and even the members who don't like her (or hold a grudge) can see that. She figures things will get a little less tense eventually, though she doubts she'll make many friends. Which is fine by her. It's weirdly satisfying getting back to her solo roots. She takes patrols at odd hours, the ones no one else wants to take. She puts herself on call 24 hours a day.
Even when it's not strictly her shift, she still takes rounds along the perimeter. It's soothing, and everyone is stretched so thin.
two
Natasha is still not entirely sure how her violent outburst upon her arrival landed her a solid job. She's also not sure how she managed to swing a shared room all to herself on an otherwise abandoned floor. It seems too good to be true. Still, it's the only reason she's been spending time in her room. Alone does not have to mean lonely, and she needs the quiet to think. Even when the power begins going out in the building, she doesn't mind. Until people start heading up. Her floor's power doesn't go outand it's definitely not because she's stacked the deck in her favour, making sure her floor draws on the grid with priority. Which is a great idea, until people start heading up to take advantage of that fact. She's the only occupied apartment, all other doors locked, but there's still the balcony. She can hear conversations out in the shared space, people taking advantage of power outlets with juice.
It's only a matter of time before someone figures out that one apartment is occupied, meaning there's also a fully functional bathroom. She's expecting the knocks on her door, but that doesn't mean she's thrilled about it. Still, she answers, opening the door but keeping the doorway blocked with her body. "Yes?"
two and a half
On the hunt for some privacy, Natasha heads to one of the abandoned floors with a large shared living room. Once she's there, she sets herself up with a battery operated lantern and a book on one of the couches, a snack on the table in front of her. It's creepy, but she's alone. She starts out alone, at any rate.
three
It's not strictly her job, but everyone is stretched pretty thin, and she's trying to make the best of this. More than anything, she's trying to remember that the people around her are not the people to be blamed for what's happened to her. So when there's talk of looting and other criminal activity taking place when the power to the city's marketplace area goes down, she heads over there. More than once. Sometimes with a partner, sometimes without. Either way, she operates more or less the same. the only real difference is her willingness to attempt conversation if there's someone with her in a chatty mood.
Anyone on the wrong side of the law, though, received no mercy. She offers one single warning to drop their weapons and put their hands on their heads. She hopes no one actually listens to her, because she wants to hit things, and criminals are an ideal target.
WILDCARD!
If you have another idea, lay it on me.
WHAT: guarding the perimeter, fighting monsters, helping during the blackout
WHERE: the housing building, the perimeter, beyond the fence, wherever
NOTES: Natasha has an open top level for the festival during the beginning of the month. If you have any questions, or would like a custom starter, PM me or hit me up on plurk. Also, I'm totally fine with getting tags in actionspam if that's how you're comfortable writing, but I'm comfortable writing in prose. So in that case, our styles won't match. I'm good with it if you are.
one
Natasha's still not thrilled to be here, but she accepts that she's stuck. She also accepts that she's not going to be able to fulfill her quota and get home if the whole place goes to shit in the next couple of weeks. Ill fitting or not, her world is still hers, and she has a right to it. She might not have a right to much, but she figures her place on the planet is something she can safely claim.
She takes her job with the Guard, and she does it well. She's good at it, and even the members who don't like her (or hold a grudge) can see that. She figures things will get a little less tense eventually, though she doubts she'll make many friends. Which is fine by her. It's weirdly satisfying getting back to her solo roots. She takes patrols at odd hours, the ones no one else wants to take. She puts herself on call 24 hours a day.
Even when it's not strictly her shift, she still takes rounds along the perimeter. It's soothing, and everyone is stretched so thin.
two
Natasha is still not entirely sure how her violent outburst upon her arrival landed her a solid job. She's also not sure how she managed to swing a shared room all to herself on an otherwise abandoned floor. It seems too good to be true. Still, it's the only reason she's been spending time in her room. Alone does not have to mean lonely, and she needs the quiet to think. Even when the power begins going out in the building, she doesn't mind. Until people start heading up. Her floor's power doesn't go out
It's only a matter of time before someone figures out that one apartment is occupied, meaning there's also a fully functional bathroom. She's expecting the knocks on her door, but that doesn't mean she's thrilled about it. Still, she answers, opening the door but keeping the doorway blocked with her body. "Yes?"
two and a half
On the hunt for some privacy, Natasha heads to one of the abandoned floors with a large shared living room. Once she's there, she sets herself up with a battery operated lantern and a book on one of the couches, a snack on the table in front of her. It's creepy, but she's alone. She starts out alone, at any rate.
three
It's not strictly her job, but everyone is stretched pretty thin, and she's trying to make the best of this. More than anything, she's trying to remember that the people around her are not the people to be blamed for what's happened to her. So when there's talk of looting and other criminal activity taking place when the power to the city's marketplace area goes down, she heads over there. More than once. Sometimes with a partner, sometimes without. Either way, she operates more or less the same. the only real difference is her willingness to attempt conversation if there's someone with her in a chatty mood.
Anyone on the wrong side of the law, though, received no mercy. She offers one single warning to drop their weapons and put their hands on their heads. She hopes no one actually listens to her, because she wants to hit things, and criminals are an ideal target.
WILDCARD!
If you have another idea, lay it on me.
no subject
It means something to him, too. He wouldn't be so defensive if it didn't. So maybe there's somewhere there to push. "You thought I should recognize you. You think you know me. If you really knew me, you'd know how I feel about people who hold back information, who only give half of the picture. You'd know what it means to me when someone decides that they think they know what's best for me, what I should and shouldn't know based on how they think I'll react. You'd know how many times I've had someone tell me it's not relevant when it shouldn't have been their call to make. You'd know what it means to have someone claim to know you when you don't recognize them, to have memories that don't match up, to not be sure--" To not be sure if what's in your head is really yours. "So you either have no idea what I've been through... or you just don't care."
Maybe there's another Natasha. Maybe she does know this man in some other life. That doesn't have to be a good thing, though. She can't imagine there's any version of herself that grew up loved and safe and cared for. A whole lot of people had a hand in crafting the monster. Who's to say he wasn't one of them?
"Which is it?"
no subject
"I don't know you." That much is glaringly obvious. "You're overreacting to the fact that I don't want to talk about something intensely personal with a complete stranger." That's what she wants him to say, isn't it? That he doesn't know her? He doesn't. He doesn't know what this Natasha has been through. Nothing is guaranteed to be the same, like with him and his doppleganger - this Bucky was never HYDRA. His handlers were all KGB.
"I think we're done here."
no subject
It's not what she wants, but that's not his problem. None of this is his problem, or anyone else's. It's hers. That's always the lesson, isn't it? No matter what life throws at you, you deal with it yourself. Maybe this other Natasha never had to. Not that thinking about it will do her any good. She won't ever get to learn about this other woman.
"Then I suppose I'll count myself lucky," she says, throat uncomfortably tight, before she turns and walks away. Life is going to get interesting in the worst possible ways when she realizes that this man is part of Search and Rescue, too. Still, that's a problem for another time.