riverviewlogs | 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 out ~~and 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.

Threaded | Flat

Natasha overhears the conversation. It's not directed at her, but it's of interest. There's a group attacking the fence, and one Guard is warning his friend that this is becoming a pattern. They attack every day, in almost the exact same place, at almost the exact same time. They're reasonably smart, well organized, a dangerous pack. Every time the Guard approaches them with sufficient numbers, they realize they won't win and flee. Only to return the next day. Eventually they're going to find a way through, or someone is going to get killed. As the conversation trails off, backup arrives, and the beasts back away, then turn tail and begin running.

"See?" says one of the guards, "and they'll be back tomorrow."

Natasha watches the retreating pack, judges the distance to the cover of trees, and nods her head once. "No they won't." She's down the wall and sprinting after them as quickly as her mind can calculate her odds. She's running flat out after the pack, determined to reach them before they get to the nearest stand of trees when she hears, almost feels a suit pass overhead.

'Stark.'

The first thought in her mind. An actual look skyward quickly shows her that this man is not, in fact, Tony. She's disappointed. Then mad at herself for being disappointed. Then mad at herself for being mad. So maybe she just really needs something to be mad at? The pack has realized they're being pursued, and the creature bounding toward her from the right, all gangly limbs and claws and teeth, that seems like a pretty good thing to be mad at. So she pauses in her pursuit, batons in hand and Bites crackling with energy, braced for impact.

Search and Rescue is a decent placement for Bucky (and for Steve). They never left a man behind during the war if they could help it, this is just more of the same. When he's not on a specific job for his division, he takes regular patrols, though. Gets himself out and moving around, doing something useful. Night patrols are especially nice, grounding. They get him out of his head.

He doesn't expect to run into anybody else this time of night, in what has been, thus far, a quiet stretch of fence.

"Another night owl?" He calls out, voice friendly enough for the moment, testing the waters - is this woman with the guard, or is she up to something else? His stance is loose and casual, despite the stars and stripes he wears, the shield on his arm.

Unfortunately, that hunt for privacy that led her to the upper abandoned floors, also leads her to a certain ex-Soldier trying to find a place to hide and recover away from the people wandering around outside in the midst of the power outages and confusion.

He sees her come in and sinks back into the shadows of one of the corners, barely breathing. The Black Widow, he remembers shooting through her, he remembers fighting her. He doesn't want to fight her again. Which is why he's waiting until she gets settled with the book before he tries to sneak away.

It's just a shame that he manages to dislodge a shower of dust from the window he's trying to escape from; if she doesn't notice him before then, she's sure to notice now.

[ Clark also patrols at odd hours, wearing the suit and cape. Monster activity spikes at night. He doesn't need that much sleep, so it's the perfect time to get some practice with fighting. No one gets hurt.

He's tracking something in the forest. It's big, bipedal, and fast for its size. Clark intends to fly to intercept the moment it starts heading directly for the perimeter. It's not doing much of anything right now.

He's sometimes followed by members of the Guard, but Clark doesn't mind or pay them much attention unless they directly engage him in conversation. He stays out of their way if they want him to stand back: this is their job, after all. Usually, they let him be: it didn't take long for them to realise he was source of the flattened trees and monster remains the morning patrols found. Sometimes the dead monsters have severe burns, others just took a few punches.

So if Natasha was following, he isn't acting like he's noticed. ]

( let me know if anything needs to be changed )

William's got little to worry about on the crime front. The powers of influence over the mind have skipped him and his brother, but they're inconspicuous enough to rarely ever draw attention to them unless they open their mouths. Not being a victim is hardly the same as never witnessing any of it taking place, though, and it's with half a burger in his mouth that he hears the threats from gruff voices, then an assertive suggestion that they cease and desist.

Natasha's hopes are attended, and criminals become that ideal target she's been looking for. William walks on over to see what - if anything - he can do. If not, there's always this burger to keep him busy while he watches.

for Ray Palmer

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