our common goal was waiting for the world to end. ( open )

[atoner]

Who| natasha romanoff + open!
What| a spy lands in the midst of the capitol.
Where| the training center, shopping districts
When| post-arena
Warnings/Notes| tba

So here's what she knows.

First, that whoever's in charge of this place had access to technology that happens to be lightyears ahead of anything that exists on Earth as she knows it. Better than Stark's technology, better than SHIELD's. Somehow managing to get the drop on her right after handing Barnes' file over to Steve is probably the least of their capabilities.

So, you know. That's good.

Natasha wakes up on a cot and finds herself being escorted somewhere by a group of guards that probably would have been able to take down if she weren't so sure that there were more to come. So she chooses to bide her time instead.

It's almost surprising when they choose to leave her alone in a plush apartment. Out of all the times she's been captured by enemy forces, well. That's definitely new.

ＴＨＥ  ＴＲＡＩＮＩＮＧ  ＣＥＮＴＥＲ  －  ＲＯＯＦＴＯＰ

They leave her alone, and Natasha figures that she owes it to herself to figure out where she's allowed to go, and what kind of access is restricted. She goes up - all the way up on the elevators, stepping out onto the rooftop so she can get a better view of the place. Maybe figure out how big this operation spans.

The elevator doors open and she whistles, low and quiet. It's impressive, she'll give them that. But even despite the great view, what grabs her attention more is the subtle shimmer around the roof's edge. She stoops down to pick up a rock and tosses it lightly towards the refracting light in a perfect arc.

When it gets thrown right back to her, Natasha raises an eyebrow.

ＴＨＥ  ＣＡＰＩＴＯＬ  －  ＳＨＯＰＰＩＮＧ  ＤＩＳＴＲＩＣＴＳ

It's not as if Natasha doesn't appreciate a little bit of pampering. She drives a fancy car and dresses herself in nice clothes on days when the tactical jumpsuit isn't a requirement. After years of being on the run, it's probably the closest thing to stability that she's ever really had. Still, shopping isn't really the purpose here. It's the people. Some of them are really odd looking, all decked out in strange fashions or body modifications she's never seen before. Natives, she figures. Some of the guards were the same.

Everyone else, though? The ones without any kind of ornamentation? Those are the people Nat figures are in the same boat as she is. Which is why she watches them with interest, even as she pretends to look at a display of dresses in a shop window.

Comments

Roof Top

[aboveangrybees]

Steve hasn't been going out into public much. People are uncomfortable with him, the marred and disfiguring brand on his right cheek marks him as a traitor, someone who can't be trusted, so they don't trust him. Hell, most people openly tell him to go away, refuse him service. Not that anything like that has ever stopped him, but he doesn't see any reason to push the issue - people are scared, shit has been happening, people dying, attacked - nothing is going right and everything is going wrong in their eyes. So, he gets it and keeps out of the way for now.

The roof has always been a place he likes, not uncommon to find him up here, sketching. Passing the time as he plots and thinks of strategies in his head, little doodles that often go along with his thoughts but are obscure enough to seem unworthy of notice.

The rock hitting the barrier catches his attention, something that has him looking up from where pencil scratches against paper. He shifts over to look around the barrier of bushes between him and the source and the air in his lungs stutter to disuse.

It only takes a look to know she's not the one who went missing but the woman from his world. He can see the differences instantly.

He stands, eyes fixed on her, sketchpad falling to the ground. She can't be here. They can't be punishing him to this level. First they take away people he cares for and now they bring others who are important to him? He never thought the Capitol would draw out his punishment like this.

"Natasha?"

[atoner]

Natasha hears his voice and instantly moves towards him. She hones in on the injury as the first indication that something is terribly wrong.

She's seen Steve after a mission. After an entire alien invasion, dirty and exhausted but basically untouched. She's read the files on the super-soldier serum. He's not an easy person to hurt. And even when he is, he heals. The brand on his face looks like it's been there for a long time. Natasha's seen her share of disfiguring injuries. She knows how the skin heals, slowly over time.

It's even more jarring to consider the fact that she just saw him literally two minutes ago. Standing over Nick Fury's grave. She's still wearing the same clothes as she was back then. She crosses around the bushes so she's standing right in front of him, eyeing the symbol that she's seen scattered around this city.

A warning, from the authorities.

Natasha brings her hand up, but she doesn't touch the scarring directly, just hovers right above the injuries.

"Looks like they really put you through the wringer, Steve."

[aboveangrybees]

She's exactly as he left her - the clothing, hair, everything just the way he last saw her, it's almost reassuring. Almost. But only in the way that tells him it's unlikely they grabbed her when they grabbed him, keeping her around in wait, not unless they put her under. Time is confusing here that way and he's not even sure of the truth of how this works, but he finds some comfort that either way, she hasn't been here - awake, aware - long

Her concern though, how she beelines towards him instead of keeping her distance, how she almost moves to touch the brand, how she's already familiar enough with him to call him Steve, it's all reassuring in a way. This is the Natasha he knows. He doesn't want her here, not in the slightest, but it's still a small comfort to be faced with someone you know rather than a woman too similar but from a different universe.

A woman who was confused and almost distressed by the idea of friendship with him.

"They're not ones to pull their punches around here," which was a nice way to put it. "Especially, when you try to break an innocent man from jail," his tone is nonchalant, there's a hint of dry humor.

Roof top

[tookthewheel]

The roof is one of the few places he could, in some way, admit to enjoying.

When the sun is shining and there are few or no other tributes, avoxes or anyone else in the vicinity it feels relaxing. Almost safe except for the eyes and ears that are always watching them and those he has learned to accept as background noise, an uncomfortable prickling he can ignore because he has no other choice.

It's not all that different from being under HYDRA's thumb in the end.

There are a few spots he favours, ones he scoped out as rarely visited by other people or hidden away and forgotten. In the aftermath of the arena it's good to visit one of these, settle and pass a couple in as close to a doze as he'll allow himself -- never true sleep, it's too risky and besides, risking a nightmare in public space feels worse than in the security of the room at night.

Pzt.

He sits up at the noise, then stands, moving to push aside foliage and get a view at whoever is testing the forcefield and stops at the sight of the redhead with her back to him.

They'd said she was gone.

His appearance will be familiar to her. Since dying his hair is long again and he has not allowed anyone else to cut it but he is clean shaven. The major difference is that one side of his face is marred by the Capitol brand, one his cheek, just below his eye. Bucky addresses her as soon as he steps out of his hiding place, "Widow?"

[atoner]

Natasha knows that there are others up here. She can hear the tiny noises that they make and is generally aware of their movements to the point where she'll know well in advance if she's about to be attacked. Which is a default state for her, a sort of extra sense imbued by training and experience that ultimately keeps her alive. It helps her react a little bit faster, gives her a few extra seconds to prepare when she needs it - seconds that mean the difference between life and death, sometimes.

She knows that there are others here, but she's not expecting him. The Winter Soldier. Steve's about to embark on a near-obsessive journey to find him and here he is, standing right in front of her eyes. The man who shot her twice and nearly killed Nick Fury. Probably countless other SHIELD agents, too.

Not that Natasha really bears him a grudge. She's read his file - those favors that she called in from Kiev. There's no way she'd have something like that in her hands and not take a peek at them. She knows that he's basically been a weapon for the past 50 years. Just following orders. Doing what he was told.

The fact that he's addressing her now is a new development, though. Natasha turns slowly, arms folded across her chest. He's like she remembers him, except the brand across his cheek that resembles some of the icons she's seen stamped on the official-looking buildings here. A mark of ownership, maybe - like he's their weapon, now.

Or maybe it's a punishment. A warning for others.

Natasha stares him down as she decides on what to address him as. Soldier. Asset.

In the end, she settles with: "Barnes."

[tookthewheel]

As soon as she turns round he knows he's made a mistake to address her with familiarity.

She is different. Her hair could be explained away, the Capitol is fond of changing looks and the stylists for the tributes are always trying to force them into different styles. Length, shape, colour, it could all be changed with ease. The thing he cannot explain away is the lack of the brand on her face.

Just like himself, the other suspects and failed rescuers she had been scarred and if he had woken with his brand still intact the logic followed that hers should be there too. The Capitol would not allow her accused crime to go forgotten.

So there is only one explanation he can find, she is not the same Black Widow. He thinks back to the hours before the Insight Mission and the files he had been given to study in his prep. She looks more like the woman in those photos.

Then he has to blink because for a split-moment he has double-vision, an overlay that makes him shake his head before registering her return address to him. He has to make sure and clarify the information before he can decide how to proceed.

"You're different. When did you get here?" This Widow recognises him, that's something to be noted.

It's a party on the roof

[metalicarus]

At least once a day, Jet was on the roof. Despite the confinement clear whenever something touched the force field around it, Jet felt most free up here. He could sit on a ledge and look out over the city and pretend that, if he just stepped off the ledge, his boosters would kick in and he'd go soaring through the air. He just had to convince himself he didn't feel like it and so that was why he stayed sitting. It was hard to pretend when every fiber of his being longed for that rush of air in his face.

He was happy, with his and Albert's marriage on the horizon and his partner smiling more than Jet had ever seen,he was well and truly happy, but that need to fly that ached in him wasn't something he could just turn off.

His thoughts jolted away when he saw the ripple in the force field that marked someone touching it, a quick glance over and he saw a very lovely woman starring at the barrier with her brow raised.

"It's to keep us from committing suicide and ending their fun." He said it plainly, like the fact it was. Except for the fact it really was encasing, he was glad it was there for that exact reason. Not for himself, but for others.

He felt a rush of sympathy for her, if she was surprised by the barrier, that meant she was new, or at least new enough. He distantly wondered if they'd ever stop bringing new tributes in...but probably not as long as they kept permanently killing the ones they had. He'd noted Perry and several others who'd been blown up at the beginning of the arena in answer to Steve's speech hadn't come back.

the best kind of party

[atoner]

Natasha wishes she could be surprised at the revelation that all this effort was seemingly to put up some kind of gladiatorial match, but she really isn't. People are brutal, she's seen it herself. She's proof of that, in a way. People in power are especially brutal. They want to see her kill again, as if she hasn't done enough of that for one lifetime ( and continues to do so, but she hopes: for the right reasons. If they exist at all )

"If someone were really determined, there's really not much they could do to stop them," she remarks, fairly casually. It's an observation for her as well. There's a whole training room full of blades downstairs. Natasha shrugs, but she also understands. Most people probably won't grasp how desperate the situation is up until the murder begins. Not in these plush environments. Not when they're thrown in so suddenly.

[metalicarus]

"That's true, but the Capitol has a way of spinning Tribute's deaths either against them or into these tragedies for the public to eat up. I'm gonna guess it's a little harder to do that for falling bodies and obvious suicides, 'specially if they take a capitolite or two down with them."

It was grimm, talking about this stuff like this, but it was the truth and she didn't sound like she was horrified to hear something like that. It made him think she probably had an idea already of this kind of situation, it was nice not to hear someone say 'how can they do a thing like that?' only to think back at them 'what rock have you been living under?' He didn't like to think negatively like that, but it was realistic, he'd seen too many bad governments (including his own) or bad people to think it wasn't possible.

It just didn't stop him from wishing it would stop sometime in his already long lifetime.

"People killing themselves isn't really that big of a problem as far as I know, at least not since I got here. It's pointless on a normal day, but here they'll just bring in new people to replace you."

A humorless smile formed and he looked away a moment. "Sorry, that's not really a pleasant way to say hi, is it?"

Shopping Districts; I dare to be different

[silberfuchs]

Albert's arms are full of flowers. Not an arrangement, but over a dozen individual types in a myriad of colors, the full effect coming off like a spilled painter's palette. He doesn't intend to use all of them, maybe just two or three, but when you're planning a wedding it's only fair that you let your significant other in on the planning. Though he's not sure if Jet has any preference at all. Still, he's got to ask, and he's rather excited about the whole thing either way.

Of course, spotting who he thinks is Molotov on the street puts a small damper on his day. They're still on good terms but that may change rather imminently considering how the former KGB spy had unnecessarily trussed up Eponine's dead body like a birthday banner in the last area. He has a bone to pick, and while he hadn't exactly been planning on doing that today, an opportunity is an opportunity.

"Molotov?" His voice comes from behind the redhead, carrying a slight German accent and a sense of familiarity, if not irritation.

[atoner]

She's not expecting anyone to approach her - it's the point of this particular exercise. Pretending to be completely unphased by her surroundings, just another face in the crowd doing some mid-afternoon shopping like everyone else. She even runs her fingers through the clothes on a rack left outside, even though she has little interest in them. The fact that she's boasting normal human skin and hair color unlike the rest of the people milling about makes her stand out just a little bit, but that really can't be helped right now.

But he approaches her like he knows her, and it's obvious that she thinks he's someone else. Molotov. Now that makes the corners of her mouth twitch a little as she turns around.

"The cocktail, or the Bolshevik?"

Nat defers to glibness sometimes when it suits her, even in the midst of danger and awfulness.

[silberfuchs]

"Neither. I'm sorry, I mistook you for someone else." In hindsight, he should have known. There was no eyepatch on this woman's features.

Still, she knows of the Bolsheviks, which means she's not from Panem and therefore a tribute like himself. Possibly new. "You're a new tribute, yes? They seem to be in the midst of drawing more fodder in for their games at the moment."

Shifting the flowers to one arm, Albert removes his glove before offering his hand to shake in greeting. It's only polite. "I'm Albert Heinrich. District 3."

District 3

[honeyibrokeharlem]

Bruce hears the rustle and thumping of Peacekeeper boots. That is never accompanied by anything good.

But he doesn't do anything about it, not immediately. He strains his ears for signs of struggle while he keeps his head down in the kitchen, having waved off Avoxes and begun preparing his own food (he's making Algerian, if one could recognize it). He keeps chopping vegetables, but he adjusts his grip on the knife so it'd be easily used to defend himself if someone tries sneaking up behind him.

For now, he listens, and he waits. And he really, really hopes that this isn't another incident where a bunch of tributes would be dragged away and Tony would talk him into trying to break them out of jail again.

[atoner]

As they're marching her down the hallway, Natasha considers the following: how many guards there are, and how many she thinks might be lying in wait. The type and thickness of the body armor they're wearing. The kind of guns they're using - automatic, high-tech. Some kind of polymer material. She looks at the gap of bare neck that their armor presents, between helmet and shoulderplate and knows she could probably paralyze a few of them with her bare hands.

But she doesn't.

Because there's too much that she doesn't know, and because Natasha is at her best when she can plot and strategize. Barging in guns ablazing is Stark's style, not hers. So she does nothing, and she's honestly shocked when they deliver her to a common room that includes a kitchen with gleaming countertops.

And Bruce Banner holding a knife.

Cooking Algerian food. ( She recognizes it, of course she does. )

Natasha stares at him for a moment as the peacekeepers release her and go marching back down the hallway, in perfectly timed steps. They're well-trained troops. Advanced weaponry. It's really annoying.

"...Hey there, doc."

[honeyibrokeharlem]

Bruce, for his part, stares right on back at her.

Then he puts his knife down, because he is (relatively) sure that Natasha isn't going to decide to try killing him right now. Besides, he's not good enough with a knife to stop her, anyway.

"Hey there, Natasha." He jerked a thumb towards his half-made meal. "Do you feel like Kefta?"

He had a feeling that he would need to explain a lot, and if he was already cooking, he might as well make some food for her too.

Shopping Districts

[arrogantalloy]

While Tony wasn't having it as awkwardly as some of the other Tributes. But only because his face remained unmarked, what does make things awkward is the cuff on his left wrist, marking him as at least someone who went against the capitol.

But what's a bit of breaking out innocent people from jail between tributes?

Tony however was a man so well versed in charm he was at least able to get a large fruit smoothie from a place he used to go to every day before he ended up doing the 'wrong' thing, as he comes towards Natasha he see's her and raises an eyebrow at her, after all the first thing he noticed was her hair was shorter, so being Tony, he had to bring it up.

"So you've had your hair-" He stops when he's close enough, then he realises it's not the Natasha that was here. "Wait, you're mine." He instead bluntly finishes with instead.

[atoner]

Tony Stark is a complicated ally for a lot of different reasons. Mostly, because he's still probably bitter over the fact that she tricked him back then at Stark Industries. But in her defense, it was remarkably easy. All it took was a couple of tight dresses, a few fake modelling photoshoots and one bodyguard, completely decked. Out of her list of people she'd tentatively call allies, he's not the one that she's pick first draft to be stuck in an unknown place with.

But she also has to admit that he's a genius. And tech is sort of his thing, which is what this city has in abundance.

His greetings are pretty unorthodox, though. Natasha ends up staring at him with one raised eyebrow when he interrupts his train of thought in the middle.

"...You wanna explain that?"

Shopping - hope this isn't godmodey at all!

[celebrityskinned]

'Returning to the land of the living' is a somewhat apt turn of phrase for Venus, she thinks, as she emerges from her depressed recovery from the last Arena and decides to join the rest of the human race. Given her patchy history with the other Tributes, she decides for a much more simple form of socializing, and eases herself back into the Capitol by surrounding herself with citizens and Stylists. Right now, that means hitting up the shopping district.

The Stylists have warned her against covering the ugly brand disfiguring her face, but she refuses to go out without big paparazzi-dodging sunglasses. Bar that brand, the burn that cascades down her cheeks and jaw, she could fit in with the Capitolites here, dyed hair and cute clothes.

She fills up bags of clothing and bracelets and necklaces at all the fancy stores, not even seeming to mind that she's using credit now instead of her usual kill money. The last Arena left her poorer than usual.

Her mind's wandering - back down dark corridors, into places she'd rather forget, down the halls of the jail they kept her in for one harrowing week while they tortured her for information she didn't have - and as such she isn't really watching where she's going when she makes a quick turn around a jewelry counter and nearly runs into Natasha. Both women are nimble enough to avoid colliding (even with Venus' impossibly high heels) but Venus' sunglasses still slip down her nose. She pushes them back up with her thumb.

"Sorry, sorry- oh, hey, you look new."

not at all! no worries

[atoner]

She's been noticing the brands. It's really hard not to, even for someone who hasn't spent the last two-and-a-half decades as a professional superspy. The brands, and the extensive effort people are taking to hide them. And more importantly, the way the people who sport them are treated by everyone Natasha assumed is a native of this place. A symbol that she's seen on every official medium relating to the regime here.

This woman had done something against the government, but she'd gotten caught. Still, it makes her interesting. It makes Natasha pay attention. It makes her place herself in the direct trajectory of her path as she's walking along, even as she steps out of the way just at the right moment.

"And here I thought I was doing such a good job at blending in."

Rooftop

[justoutrunyou]

The rooftop is good for a great many thing, getting a lay of the land, getting some fresh air, and in Sandy's case? Brooding.

But it's not very good if you want to be alone. She's leaning on the railing with her hat tugged down over her branding and scars. When she looks up at the newcomer there's a flicker of recognition and then confusion.

"Natasha?"

Something's different and she's immediately paranoid.

[atoner]

Natasha sees a little bit of something familiar in this girl. The paranoia, the fear. The scars. She's not sentimental enough to say that she reminds her of herself, but there's definitely an evocative feeling that lingers. Not that Nat really lets it show beyond the slightest quirk of an eyebrow as the girl turns out to know her name.

In her timeline, she's just released every single one of her dirty secrets onto the internet. But the way she speaks is far more familiar than addressed just on reputation.

"That's me. But you know, I don't think we've met."

[worldsaway]

It's been almost five months since Thor arrived in Panem and the weight of it all is quite difficult to carry. There's consistent suffering amongst people he's come to consider friends and humiliation at the hands of many. The end of this Arena in particular had left him in a particular sullen mood, so he's eager to escape to the roof for some air and space to brood.

He doesn't expect to see Natasha out on the roof, he'd thought her gone for good after she seemed to disappear from the Arenas all of a sudden. His approach is slow, but he's never been very quiet, it's likely she'll hear him before he comes to stand beside her.

"You ought to know of these by now." He observes with a raised brow, but he's quick to note that he doesn't see the brand he knows she should very well have. He arches a brow, but he isn't quite sure how to make mention of it beyond a simple question. "When did you return?"

[atoner]

Sorry, Thor. Natasha's pretty sure you're the least stealthy or subtle person she's ever met. Which isn't all his fault, really. Anyone as big as he is tends to stand out, even without his loud and commanding presence. Nat hears him coming from a long while away, but she stays put where she is until he's standing next to her.

Though, her casual veneer of calm is quickly replaced with confusion. And with Thor, she knows she doesn't have to think about whether or not he's playing at something. That's really just not his style.

So it looks like the Capitol's playing them, instead.

"Funny, I don't remember leaving. Or ever being here," Nat turns to look at him, arms crossed against her chest. "You think it might be some sort of memory augmentation?"

Shopping!

[rediscover]

When you're as winsome and energetic as Anna is, it's hard to want to stay cooped up in the Training Center for long. Especially after an arena; she's taken her few days of 'me' time to recoop and calm down, process everything and think it over. It was a bad one for Anna, and her ending wasn't pretty, either, so this time she's trying not to overthink it. And the best way to distract herself is to go out exploring.

In the past, she's mostly stuck to the area around the training center; it's a comfort zone, after all. But this time she ventures out a bit farther, and actually looks inside some of the frighteningly fancy-looking shops. Not that she can really afford anything in any of them, even with the line of credit the Capitol's given her. But it's still fun to look, to pretend to be fancy enough to wear any of this.

And then she reaches one particular window display--and is caught by the sweeping white ballgown right in the center of it. It's a monstrosity of a wedding gown, with trailing skirts and what Anna assumes are real diamonds encrusting the bodice, and she doesn't even notice there's anyone standing next to her, because before she can really help herself she's tearing right up. If she weren't here, chances are she'd be planning her own wedding. And the problem isn't a lack of boyfriend. It's a presence of boyfriend in a place where they're doomed to die over and over. That's no way to start a marriage.

Furiously, Anna wipes away her tears, and turns to go--but finds herself face-to-face with an intimidatingly pretty redheaded woman instead.

"Ohmygosh. I'm so sorry. I just--it was, and I..." Anna trails off, feeling sheepish. This is stupid. Why is she so bad at strangers?

[atoner]

It's kind of a garish wedding dress, honestly. It's too poofy and fairytale for Natasha's tastes, when they run more towards the sleek and practical. Not that she's ever thought about a wedding of any sort. At the age when some little girls were planning their future weddings, Natasha was learning how to assemble a kalashnikov in under ten seconds. She's already long accepted that it's never going to be part of her life, and she's never really regretted that.

Love is for children, and nothing lasts forever, so. All you can do is adapt.

But she notices the tears in her eyes long before the girl comes face to face with her, stammering to the point where Nat instinctively modifies her body language and expression into something soothing and non-threatening.

"I thought about it, but diamonds really aren't my style," she replies calmly. "Tough day?"