riverviewlogs | August catch-all

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August catch-all

WHO: Natasha, Natalia, and anyone interested
WHAT: working, walking, working out, regressing, business as usual
WHEN: month of August
WHERE: communal housing, perimeter, gym, around the city in general

NOTES: On the evening of the 14th, Natasha will come in contact with the memory loss pollen. It will take away a few very specific memories, and the ripple effect of that will make most of the last decade of so a fuzzy mess. The upshot of it all is that she’s forgotten being a part of SHIELD and will be under the impression that she somehow pulled off the biggest con in the history of cons to get herself made a part of the Avengers. Slightly more detail on the whole thing can be found here. If you want to plan something out, you can also feel free to do it in the comments there.

Also, it’s not as easy to write a specific prompt for it, but she walks everywhere she goes. So running into on her way to or from any of these options is also a very valid option.

GYM

Natasha’s at the gym at least once a day. Usually first thing in the morning, but occasionally later at night. The place empties out quite a bit after the sun sets, and it’s nice to have the quiet and all the equipment to herself. Most of the time. A few days a week, the main room where classes are held is dedicated instead to sparring, small rings set up around the perimeter. She hits those as often as she can.

PERIMETER GUARD-ING

Hurry up and wait. That is, more or less, an absolutely perfect description of being on call for Search and Rescue. Just because she’s good at it doesn’t mean it’s not incredibly boring. There are only so many playing cards you can flick into a coffee mug, only so many laps a person can run around the perimeter of the city, and only so many improvements that can be made to her gear in any given day.

If someone wants to go exploring beyond the wall, she’s quick to volunteer to accompany them, part of her hoping that something dangerous comes to investigate. So far, the creatures that stay close enough to the wall to be drawn in are more of a workout than a problem.

GROCERY STORE

Natasha’s never been much of a cook. Laura made a serious effort to help her learn back when their friendship was still a very strange and uncertain thing. Natasha didn’t know quite how to tell her that she had no desire to learn, and the older woman probably assumed it was some sort of universal bonding experience. They got over it quickly, so Natasha has very few successful recipes under her belt. Which is fine. She goes to the store a few times a week for things that are easy to eat on their own. Bars and shakes, fruit, nuts, anything that takes no thought or effort. It’s what she prefers when she’s bone tired after work.

Once Clark is gone and Jon is alone, the shopping takes a little longer. Dropping by to see him with food is mostly an excuse to check in on him every other day or so. Still, it’s an excuse that works, and if she’s going to bring food, she’d rather it be something he’d like. Which is how she ends up doing things like spending several minutes staring at two different boxes of cookies, one in each hand, attempting to get into the mind of a pre-teen boy and decide if double chocolate is better than chocolate fudge, or if a person can ever have too much chocolate.

On days she has more energy, well, she still doesn’t want to spend it cooking. There are a few nice breakfast places between the housing building and

RESTAURANT/COFFEE SHOP

The logical flip-side of not liking to cook, Nat eats out a lot. On days when breakfast isn’t a protein bar eaten on her walk to work, she takes her time at one of the places nearby with outdoor seating. It’s a habit she’s not likely to break any time soon, watching people from behind her sunglasses as she drinks her tea and eats her eggs. She’s not always subtle about it, but she’s also not exactly trying to be. There’s almost no reason to hide here. If someone notices her staring, she may even raise her cup in salute, acknowledging that yes, she was just intently watching you do whatever you were doing.

SPECIAL: AMNESIA EVENT

Natasha doesn’t have allergies, but something hits her hard after lunch on Monday - sneezing, headache, stuffed nose, the whole nine yards. It’s absolute hell, and she blows off the rest of her day to go back to the high rise and just take a fucking nap. Kicking her jeans off inside the door and flopping face first into her pillow, she’s out like a light almost immediately.

The first thing that Natalia does upon waking up in the late afternoon, her head fuzzy and her memory full of holes, is go pawing through her things looking for an explanation. What she finds doesn’t provide her with any answers, only questions. The jeans on the floor fit her, the phone in the pocket opening to her fingerprint. The conversations in the phone, they don’t sound like her. None of them. As she reads, though, memories come back. Still fuzzy, not quite fitting together. It’s not until she gets to—- she wouldn’t call it a journal. More like a bunch of disjointed thoughts that would probably make no sense to anyone else. There’s an upshot that has a whole lot coming back to her in a rush, though. The Avengers. Holy shit. How did she pull that one off?

Now that she can’t remember. Nothing. Just one giant hole in her past. She puts two and two together from a handful of panicked open messages on the network and the responses to them, including an exchange she was part of earlier in the day. The most amazing infiltration job she thinks she’s ever heard of, and she has no idea how she pulled it off.

Which is fine. This is all going to be fine. She just needs to ride it out until people figure out how to fix this. In the mean time, she’s got a job to do and a life to reacquaint herself with. Dinner sounds like a good idea, too.

[[OOC: So, not sure exactly what date this is all getting fixed on, but in the mean time, Natalia will go through Natasha’s routines as best she can. She’ll show up to work, go to the gym, go out to eat, and just generally go through the rest of the week like nothing is wrong. Pretty much any of the options available could be used during this event. If you have any questions at all, just let me know and I’ll do my best to answer them.]]

WILDCARD!
You know the drill. Make up something else, and we'll rock the unexpected!

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As far as Illya’s concerned the point of this trip was that Natalia had been far too amused at the idea of Illya being a rower to let go, and he actually enjoyed her teasing so he’d gone along with it. Truth be told he doesn’t remember their entire conversation in the elevator, all he knows… is that he managed to open up to her, and he trusts her. Enough to know that all her teasing and pissing him off (and she seems to do it a lot) is in good faith, and something he puts up with because he actually enjoys her company.

And that doesn’t have to change just because he forgot parts of what he shared, right?

“I am just fine with adventure.” He says, chin up with the same expression he always gets when he feels like he has to protect his pride.

“Russian men are very brave. You should know that.”

"Well, I know they should be. Of course, we're going to go drift by some skyscrapers and planned parks instead of an abandoned amusement park that's got half of one of its rollercoasters sunk in a delta. It's all right, Illya. There's nothing wrong with being timid. I won't judge." Too far, maybe? She can't tell. It's fun, though, in a weird way. She can see why she's taken on this particular little project, even if she can't remember the particulars.

She makes another turn onto a busier road. "Don't worry," she shoots him a sweet and faux sympathetic smile. "I would never dream of taking you anywhere that scared you. What kind of friend would that make me? Your comfort and safety is my top concern."

Illya frowns, letting his finger tap just once on the side of the truck. It is laying it on a little too thick, he can tell she’s doing it to either annoy him or because she really wanted to go there and she doesn’t want to actually ask him to go… but it’s still hitting all the right points in Illya’s very Russian pride.

“I would not be scared.” It’s very important for him that she knows, for some reason. He’s a professional athlete as far as he’s concerned, he shouldn’t really care about what she thinks of his bravery. And yet…

“Do you have any weapons with you?”

"Of course." She looks over at him, lips quirked in an amused smile. "I'm almost insulted you have to ask." The truck stops at a crossing to allow for pedestrians, and Nat reaches into her bag on the seat between them. From inside, the pulls an incredibly well maintained Glock in a holster, which she straps to her thigh with the quick and easy movements of a woman who could probably do this in her sleep. It's not as comfortable, driving this way, and it means that her hip is cocked, her leg slightly off the seat and the line of her calf now standing out in stark relief as her foot rests against the brake pedal. "There. Do you feel safer? Or shall I bring out the knives next?"

Illya may not remember why, exactly he’s so impressed by how well she’s been taking care of her gun. He doesn’t even know how he knows it’s well taken care of, but he knows it is. It’s so frustrating, to only know he’s missing his memories because of the feelings behind it but it’s not like he can ignore them.

Point is, he knows he’s safe by Natalia’s side.

“Not that I would say no to seeing you handle knives, but I get your point. I’m still not comfortable with the idea that you think you’d have to protect me. It is insult, for a Russian man to depend on someone like that.

But if your plans were to go to the lake... ” He shrugs, then goes back to looking at the road. “I suppose I have no reason to say no.”

"My plans today are to take you on on an outing to the location of your choice with my lovely borrowed boat and your very thoughtfully packed lunch. If you need the safety of the heavily monitored river, then I would be a horrible friend to deny you the comfort of those regularly posted guards. I am not a bad friend. You don't have to pretend to be brave on my account. I promise, I still think you're a very sweet man." She even reaches over to pat him thoughtfully on the knee.

Oh, this has to be driving him nuts. In a moment, she's sure, he's going to take the wheel himself and turn them toward the exit to the Abandoned City if she doesn't do it first. Why is it so fun to tease him? Why is there actual enjoyment bubbling up in her chest at this exchange?

Said moment is probably closer than Natalia thinks, judging by the way Illya’s hands are already twitching. This may be the less interesting version of Illya to Natalia, the one that worries about things like the state of the boat and his training regimens more than fighting for his life and the thrill of a mission… but he’s still full of pride, and she’s hitting that weak spot just right.

“Let’s head towards the Lake or I will take us there myself if I have to, Natasha.”

All right... maybe she does get it a little bit. He's fun. He's fun to play with, he's fun to tease. The reactions come so easily and predictable, but they're still entertaining.

"If you're sure..." She draws out the statement slowly, her voice full of thoughtful concern. Then she abruptly takes a u-turn that would definitely have the boat spilling out the back of the truck if not for the fact that she's secured it so well. The road south from the residential building is not as crowded as the road heading north. Added bonus. They're just a few minutes from the perimeter, and it's a relatively easy drive to the lake she wants to take him to. Relative being the key word. Still, it's a beautiful day, she's full of energy, and Illya is a ridiculously open book who happens to be so easy to manipulate it's almost like cheating.

Yeah, this is going to be fun.

For someone who’s supposed to be mysterious and enigmatic Illya always seems to be wearing his heart on his sleeve. Which is probably why Natalia has such an easy time reading him. It’s not as easy for most people, his resting bitch face makes people wary enough that they don’t bother trying to read him beyond that. Not to mention most people don’t spend enough time with him to even try.

But of course it’d be easy for her to read him.

“I am sure.”

He’s not stupid, he knows she’s playing with him and he knows he’s falling for it hook, line and sinker but he can’t help it. Not when his pride is on the line.

They don’t take that long to reach the lake, or at least it doesn’t feel like long between comfortable silence and light bantering they have going on.

“I’ll help you get the boat into the water.”

"And I'm supposed to help you carry the boat, too?" She sighs, but she's also smirking. Once the boat is untied, the tie down straps secured in the gear box in the cab, she helps him guide it off the back and get it correctly oriented without letting it hit the ground. She's not even that worried about taking care of someone else's property, but breaking the boat before they manage to get it in the water is going to ruin her afternoon.

There's not much to get out of the cab of the truck. Her bag, the food Illya brought, the oars jammed behind their seats because they rattled too much in the bed of the truck. One trip back to the shore before she can lock up and they can get going.

Illya rolls his eyes but he bites his tongue. He’s already been teased into coming here today, he isn’t going to let her convince her to do all the work as well. Though he’s still half tempted to let her- he can lift a car in motion if he wants, a boat would be pretty easy.

“I don’t know this area.” He admits, looking around once they reach the shore. “We’ll have to wing it, a little bit.”

"Well, I think you'll like it." She gets everything piled into the boat, wedged under seats to keep it from rolling around, and then she grabs hold with both hands and helps him drag it down to the water. Getting it in the water proves a little bit more difficult, but they find a grassy area with a gentle slope and her feet only get a little bit wet in the process. "I've been here before. Most of the lake is clear. There are some sunken pieces of metal track where the roller coaster went in, but they all stayed pretty close. We should be fine unless you want to go winding through it. Even if you do, just go slow."

She hops into the boat once it's floating, then jams an oar into the water and down to the silt to keep it from drifting while Illya climbs in. "So, champion rower. Champion in what? University?"

He hasn’t used a boat in a long time- which is weird, isn’t it? Considering his it’s supposed to be his job. One more inconsistency according to his memories, which definitely puts him on edge. Luckily for them both this Illya is much more manageable when he’s on edge than the usual one. But he still remembers his way around it, so it doesn’t take them all that long to figure it out once they get going. And soon they have a nice little green boat in the water.

He’s making sure the oars are in good state, just like the rest of the boat when Natalia ask… and he doesn’t smile often, but he does allow himself to grin when he’s amused. So he sends her one of those grins that way. Because he is proud of it, proud of what he managed for his country..

“Olympics. Silver medal.”

Natasha gets herself and her bag situated in the seat she's supposed to take, smirking at the trust placed in her considering that he's the power behind their propulsion, but she's the only one who can see where they're headed. Her gun is strapped to her thigh, and while he was checking equipment, she moved another velcro holster, this one lined with half a dozen knives, to her forearm underneath her shirt. She's serious about this place being relatively safe, but she's also serious in her promise to make sure nothing happens to him. Relatively safe is just that. Relative.

There are bits and pieces she remembers from the elevator conversation, and she's sure that the holes have to do with the cover story she's forgotten - things she shared about Natasha, things that she no longer has in her own mind. His shares, though, so many of them are still fresh. So she picks one, and hopes for a thread to unravel. "That must have made your parents very proud."

Illya doesn’t know the area- as far as he knows, anyway (what necessity would an athlete have to canvass every inch?), so he has no option but to trust her. He isn’t particularly bothered by it, though, since trusting Natalia seems to come relatively easy. Probably more than it would if he had all his memories with him… but if he had his memories with him he’d also have his own weapons with him, and he wouldn’t have to rely on her.

But trusting her doesn’t mean she’s allowed to play games or dig the knife deeper into wounds that never fully healed. He doesn’t quite glare, but there’s definitely a shadow in his face as soon as she mentions his parents.

“They would have been if they were there.”

That fuzzy elevator conversation, the details a bit of a mess. His parents are gone, of course, but when? Should she know? The smile on her face deflates, and it's not only because the mood has shifted away from the playfulness she was enjoying so much. Natalia and Natasha have one very important thing in common, always will - they know this loss.

She reaches to put her hand over his where it rests on the oar, and if he tries to pull it away, she won't stop him. "I didn't realize-- you lost them so young." Never told, or perhaps forgotten, but either way, there's pain here and it's never any fun if she didn't mean to cause it. "I'm sure they would have been so proud of you. There's nothing like seeing someone you love succeed."

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August catch-all

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