10431/Some Cultured, Elevated Down-Time

From Heroes Assemble MUSH
Jump to navigation Jump to search
Some Cultured, Elevated Down-Time
Date of Scene: 11 March 2022
Location: Rococo Bookstore and Wine Club
Synopsis: Clea and Natasha meet each other and exchange unexpected gifts!
Cast of Characters: Clea, Natasha Romanoff




Clea has posed:
    For the Sorceress Supreme of the Dark Dimension, it's difficult to find time for self-care. As one might imagine, for the leader of an entire realm of darkness and its peoples, there is an awful lot to do -- and that's only taking into account that single dimension! She has duties and responsibilities in this dimension, as well. So, it is a rare thing for her to've carved out some time to herself, to indulge in 'me time,' as they call it. But, that is exactly what's occurring, at this very moment.

    Seated in a comfortable armchair in front of a picturesque window, the one and only Clea is elegantly reposed. She wears a rather stylish power suit of sorts, luxuriant black fabric with dark purple pinstripes is tailored perfectly to her form, a pair of flattering trousers and a matching, studiously attractive waistcoat over the top of a bishop sleeved snowy white blouse with a high collar and pearl buttons down the center. Her hair is currently worn in a short, angular bob, the shiny locks painfully straight and framing her lovely face in a very complementary fashion. She has a book in one hand and the stem of a wine glass in the other. She appears to be engrossed in the book, though she does lift her vibrant blue eyes to glance around, from time to time.

Natasha Romanoff has posed:
Natasha Romanoff has not spent much time with Clea, so as the resident spellcaster for the Avengers, it behooves her to make a social call. Wearing some casual clothes and with a knapsack over her back with her 'things', Natasha would go to knock on the outside of the door to make sure it was all right to enter. If this were being somewhat theatrical then the door would probably swing open for her and there would be some chime as 'I'v ebeen expecting you'.
    But this is a social call, not over any sort of business. Given her lack of real need to actually interact, the door might not open at all. So Natasha waits to see if she would be let in or not.

Clea has posed:
    Clea looks up at a peculiar knocking sound. Furrowing her brow, she can see through the window -- at which she's seated -- that Natasha Romanoff has made an appearance and, perhaps believing the establishment to be exclusive, is knocking politely at the front door. Clea rises from her seat, letting her book rest on her recently vacated chair's surface, and walks to the front door, opening it with a smile.

    "Why, Natasha Romanoff. How pleasant to see you. Please, do come in. This is a fine establishment and open to those interested in the fine juice of the grape and the fruits of writers, poets, philosophers, and the like. Sit with me, if you like," she says with a gesture toward the pair of arm chairs where she'd been sitting only moments ago. "To what do I owe the honor of this visit?"

Natasha Romanoff has posed:
Natasha Romanoff would dip her head in, "Hello, I just thought I would check in. Nothing particularly needed. I feel it's just polite to take some rounds." she would offer after having been given permission to enter and then to fold her hands together politefully. "I hope that you have been well. Things have been.. About the norm on our end." On the Avengers and SHIELD's end, she likely meant.
    "I hope that I'm not interrupting your relaxation time. If I am I can return another time."

Clea has posed:
    Clea resumes her seat as Natasha follows her inside. She crosses her legs comfortably and lifts her wine glass with a gesture, the stem floating neatly into her waiting fingers with barely a glance. She sips the white wine as Natasha speaks, and smiles, swirling the liquid inside the glass idly. "Well, yes, I confess I've been well, of late. After the angels and everything, things are finally settling down into a semblance of normalcy. I'm glad to hear things have been as expected for you and the others. You know I'm always there to help, if I'm needed. It's good to know, however, that things are calm enough, for the time being," she nods her head.

    "Oh, no, worry not about that. It is some relaxation time, but I believe conversing with friends to be a suitable way to spend my time, relaxation or otherwise," she smiles kindly. "Will you have some wine? There are also cheese plates, I believe. If not, I can always conjure something tasty, should you desire?"

Natasha Romanoff has posed:
Natasha Romanoff would fold her fingers together, "Lovely. I'm thankful that there's been so far at least that I'm aware of followup to it. The situation has hpoefully been primarily resolved." Her tone is quiet and relaxed. "And I'm good, I came after I'd eaten." She would go to reach over into her knapsack and take out some tea leaves from Tibet that were carefully rpeserved. "I thought you might enjoy these another time but it's likely you alreayd have access." The redhead would dip her head politely to the Sorceress from the Dark Dimension in full politeness.
    "No business, this is just a social call."

Clea has posed:
    The Faltine nods her head with a small smile. She accepts the jar of tea leaves and lifts her brows, "Well, now, this is a fine gift, Ms. Romanoff, and I thank you kindly! Though I may have access, I wouldn't have thought to get this exact jar of tea leaves, and I do so very much enjoy tea. This is a very thoughtful gift, and I shall have to return the favor," she says with a sparkling in her eyes.

    With a wave of her hand, a simple wooden box appears on the table between her chair and Natasha's. "In that box is a set of the most absolutely exquisite Peruvian throwing knives I've ever encountered in my travels. They're made of bone and they're hand-carved. I've set them aside for just the right person, the right moment, and I believe that is now, and you are they," she smiles, finishing off her glass of wine and snapping the glass out of existence.

Natasha Romanoff has posed:
Natasha Romanoff would smile, "You're welcome. And you don't have to call me Ms. Romanoff. We're being informal here. Natasha is fine." she would reply. "And I hope that you enjoy them. Tea is only proper when it's infused and has proper leaves." The types that most Americans wouldn't ever think of or register. She would bow her head over to Clea.
    Natasha would go to carefully take the box, "Thank you. You don't have to. This is far in excess of what I gave you. Thank you very much. I feel that for something as lovely as these.." Her carefully balancing the knives. "That I am obligated to return you a favor."

Clea has posed:
    Clea smiles lightly, "I apologize for perhaps coming off as too formal. I meant it as a sign of respect, that I wouldn't address you with such familiarity, considering we don't know one another very well. However, as it is your wish, I will most certainly call you by your name, Natasha."

    To the comment that Natasha might owe her a favor, she shakes her head, "Oh, nonsense. I insist. You will most assuredly put these fine instruments to far better use than I, keeping them locked away for an indeterminate amount of time, their box gathering dust. No, better they go to an artist whose talents will make the most of their potential, and whose appreciation for their beauty and form will exceed my own. You owe me nothing. I have been delighted by this visit, and I thank you for it."

Natasha Romanoff has posed:
Natasha Romanoff would shake her head, "I'm fine with it. I just prefer a more informal manner of talking when possible. It's simpler." A carefully crafted lie, like many other things. Whether or not it was her norm, it was one of thsoe things that was generally considered appropriate by society, and one that the Widow was more than happy to fall into the guise of.
    "I will treasure them. I'll have to spend some time training with them before I can put them to proper use. Get to know how they handle, their weights.." All fine blades had their own little quirks that had to be discovered.

Clea has posed:

    The Sorceress Supreme smiles to herself, nodding as Natasha speaks, acknowledging her words. "Very well. I make no complaints about calling you as you wish, naturally," she grins. "I certainly hope you will take as much time as you need to become acquainted with them. I realize they're something of a novelty, compared to the durability of metallic weaponry, for example. But, these do have such an interesting and storied past. Made from the bones of would-be thieves, murderers, despots... These bone knives came from the bones of a man who poisoned his wives, four of them, before he was caught. For that reason, they are formally named Los Fragmentos Envenenados, or The Poisoned Shards."

    Then, she sits more upright. "Ah, forgive me, Natasha, but I am being summoned. I apologize for the lack of warning, but it seems I am needed in my home dimension. I hope we can speak again, soon," she smiles, rising. "Please, enjoy the Shards. I know I will enjoy my tea," she says, lifting the jar with another smile. And, then, she steps into a portal of swirling black and purple energies...which closes behind her. Only Clea's book remains behind.

Natasha Romanoff has posed:
Natasha Romanoff would fold her hands together, "Of course. Thank you, I'll treasure them. And they do sound rather exotic. I'll have to be sure to research their lineage so that I can properly appreciate them. Thank you, I'm honored to be trusted with things that have such a deep history." She would offer lightly while going to look at them and put them treasuredly back in the box before glancing.
    "A pleasure to talk wtih you. I'm sorry that your relaxzation time was cut short. I wish you luck with whatever has you kept back in your home dimension in resolving it effectively."