12091/Of Blackhawks and Boozehounds

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Of Blackhawks and Boozehounds
Date of Scene: 20 July 2022
Location: Noonan's Sleazy Bar
Synopsis: Two veterans of a war of the past reminisce over drinks and bond and are joined by a fashionists that can match them both shot for shot.
Cast of Characters: Natasha Romanoff, Zinda Blake, Janet van Dyne




Natasha Romanoff has posed:
It was an informal arrangement. Between not colleagues or comrades, but two women with a shared sense of history. Of killing fascists and murdering them merrily. Despite teh age difference. It had been informal by agreement. Pick a bar. Whomever blacked out first picked up the tab. Presuming the bar had enough liquer on hand. And somewhere no one would really mind a body count at.
    Natasha was waiting over in a dive known for having assassins, hitmen, and scum even by Gotham standards.

Zinda Blake has posed:
Zinda Blake doesn't get very many invitations to go drinking these days, mostly because she has outlived the majority of her peers. So when the Russian gal gives her a ring (text messages would be wasted on Zinda...), it isn't long before the blonde is heading into Gotham.

Jeans tucked into boots, a white t-shirt under a flight jacket, Zinda makes her way inside with long, confident strides. From across the room, Nat can tell she is wearing her guns under that jacket. But proper etiquette is required in a place like this.

"Heya, sis! Hope y'all didn't start without me."

Natasha Romanoff has posed:
Natasha Romanoff would smile, "No, but I was tempted to. We were running close to the starting time so I would if you hadn't shown up and I was getting tired of waiting." She would raise her hand over in a casual toast to the other woman, smiling cynically but gleefully.
    Few enough could keep up with her and those that could entirely outclassed her. So to get to do something of a fair matchup..
    "How has busienss been? Hopefully not crash prone in your line of work." She would quip over to Zinda while gesturing. "And shall we start with a keg or something smaller to split between us?"

Zinda Blake has posed:
Zinda Blake sits across from the redhead, scooting slowly into the chair. "Oh, a few odd jobs here an' there, most of which I can't talk about." she replies casually. "But I'm gettin' my flight hours, so that's all that matters." She looks over at the bar, then, reading the logos on the taps.

"I'm definitely up for a good beer or twelve." she replies with a grin. Then Zinda leans in and whispers loudly. "How's the *spy* business goin' these days?"

Natasha Romanoff has posed:
Natasha Romanoff would smile, "Well, any crash that you can walk away from and that enough of the plane manages to lstay intact that's salvagable. or at least you have enough money to replace it and keep on going with the maintenance overhead." SHe would offer.

"ANd the spy business goes on. There's always someone that needs killing. That's not changed. And let's start wtih.." She would hold a hand up and gesture at the bartender, "Give us twelve packs of variety." Seventy two bottles.

Zinda Blake has posed:
Zinda Blake tilts her head, resting her chin lightly on one hand. "Honey, I don't -crash-. If I decide to -leave- an airplane it's because I was done with it." she corrects, with a playful smile.

Watching as Nat places the order, Zinda doesn't so much as flinch at the quantity. "And yeah. We're both in pretty steady demand, with our separate occupations. If it wasn't fer the combat ops I almost wish I was still runnin' moonshine."

Natasha Romanoff has posed:
Natasha Romanoff would nod, "Oh, they don't call it moonshine these days. It's properly referred ot as swill. Moonshine has a storied tradition and has gone mainstream. You're just looking for something rough with a kick. I can't see why you almost entirely indulge in beer, but one's preferences are their own."
    She was meeting Zinda halfway, catering to the other woman's inclinations here as the first wave of bottles would be brought over!

Zinda Blake has posed:
Zinda Blake shakes her head. "Uh-uh. It's only 'swill' if you ain't doin' it right." she declares. "It's all in the mash..." The blonde grins again. "But I started drinking beer mostly because it was more available than whiskey. And I don't drink to get drunk. I drink to have just a little bit -more- of a good time."

Natasha Romanoff has posed:
Natasha Romanoff would smile, "Well, then let us drink and see how long we can drink this good time out to before it all collapses down on us. We're here to test one another after all." She would go to take out a random glass, clink it with Zinda's, wait for the other woman to be ready.. And then throw it back.

Zinda Blake has posed:
Zinda Blake doesn't look as she picks up a glass as well, raising it an clinking with Nat's. She watches as the redhead lifts her glass, then Zinda immediately raises her own glass high to toss back at the same time. Zinda sets down the empty and reaches for another.

"I gotta tell you they taught me how to call one o' them... Yoobers, is it? For a ride home."

Natasha Romanoff has posed:
Natasha Romanoff would just squint her eyes over at Zinda as she would take her own drink back and go to pour it back after the exchanged salute. "And I do hope that you properly told them off on that. You needing someone else to take you back after drinking? They think you're getting soft."

Zinda Blake has posed:
Zinda Blake grins. "Yeah, I had me a real good laugh, alright. Besides, it ain't like I'm gonna be flyin' anywhere or somethin' serious." She considers the next beer for a moment this time, picking the glass that is more or less closest. "Been a hot minute since I've been called by any of -your- people, by the way. Almost think things are settlin'."

Natasha Romanoff has posed:
Natasha Romanoff would smile, "Good. I do hope that you reminded them that you're the one in charge. You can't have that sort of unprofessionalism inyour employees. It undermines your authority." And 'don't fly when drunk' is very much a matter of advise rather htan requirement. "My people have not, at least for my own operations, needed something of your scale. But I perform the smaller scale end of things."

Zinda Blake has posed:
Zinda Blake shrugs at that, waiting to toss back the next beer together. "Well it ain't often ya' need air support from a gunship. Or combat air strikes against hard targets. Or fighter cover." Wink. "Just in case. Sometimes one or two really careful people is all ya' need."

Natasha Romanoff has posed:
Natasha Romanoff would move to throw back her's and then gesture over and smile, "Yes, you're the best there is in the matter. I'm sure they haven't made something out you couldn't figure out how to fly and would be offended they didn't think so."

Zinda Blake has posed:
Zinda Blake tosses hers back as well, then laughs and shakes her head. "Well I -do- sometimes need somebody in the backseat to handle some of those fancy avionics. But so long as it's got a stick and a rudder, I'm your gal."

Natasha Romanoff has posed:
Natasha Romanoff would smile, "Yes, I'm sure no one is good as you are at driving stick and shifting." She would go to take her third, and throw it back with a sigh. The two finishing their first case in about two minutes. "We do need to find a way to work together."

Zinda Blake has posed:
"Well your people still have my number, last I checked." Zinda replies, keeping up one for one as they start piling up empty glasses. "I ain't super-spy material, but I can shoot straight and drive a get-away car like nobody's business."

Natasha Romanoff has posed:
Natasha Romanoff would nod, "Yes. I might have to get it sometime for something of a more personal nature and off teh books, but you're a bit beyond what I can justify for discretionary spending. Which is a shame as I'm sure we'd have a wonderflu time."

Zinda Blake has posed:
Zinda Blake grins at that, adding a wink between toasts. "Well it ain't like I really need th' money. I already bought every sorta plane that I want. Leastwise the ones that the government will LET me buy. But I ain't above doin' some... pro-bono work. If it's for a good cause."

Natasha Romanoff has posed:
Natasha Romanoff would smile, "Yes, and that's something of which I engage in from time to time.." Or at least, things that Fury needs to be deniable even by SHIELD standards. "You just understand the types of things I do are messy."

Zinda Blake has posed:
Zinda Blake lifts both brows at that. "Messy? As in minigun-messy, rocket-pod-messy, or napalm-messy? It ain't all that fine a line..." Zinda and Natasha are in the bar with a large number of beer glasses on the table between them. The pile of empties on the adjacent table is growing steadily as the women match each other drink for drink.

Natasha Romanoff has posed:
Natasha Romanoff would smile, "Well, in the 'blood and guts' style. And I tend to have my own methods for dealing with getting things from people when I want them." Natasha's fairly up front when it comes to -how- she gets her information. And aware for many that goes well beyond their own allowable zones. But.. That's what 'off teh books' things are for.

Janet van Dyne has posed:
The door blows open and Janet van Dyne strolls into the bar like she owns the place. A sanguine, sleeveless dress with a barely decent hemline, with an asymmetric drape of gauzy black fabric drifting around her thighs and shoulders. Her pumps sport a fashionable platform under the toe and perfectly match her dress. Diamonds glitter at her ears and wrists.

"We're slumming it in Gotham now?" she inquires while walking up to the table. She grins at the two women and offers a brief handsqueeze to each, clearly pleased to see them there. "What the hell, it's been a while since my college days. How ya been, Zinda? I haven't seen you in forever," she inquires of the blonde. Janet's assistant smiles politely at the women and moves to Janet's shoulder, waiting patiently for her. Janet looks at the bar, back at him, and wrinkles her nose. "Rum and coke, but if the glasses aren't clean, just make sure the rum is strong enough to be a disinfectant," she bids him.

Janet wriggles onto a chair, takes a second to settle and cross her legs, and leans over to rest her elbows on the table. "So what're we drinking to?"

Zinda Blake has posed:
Zinda Blake shifts a beer to her off-hand, reaching out to return Jan's handsqueeze. "Been a long time, yeah." she replies, keeping half an eye on Nat so that she doesn't fall behind with the drinking. The blonde gives a little chuckle at Jan's order before sitting down.

"We are drinkin' to the past, honey. Somethin' Miss Natasha an' I both have in abundance."

Natasha Romanoff has posed:
Natasha Romanoff would smile over at Zinda and give a smile, "Given what we were doing I thought Janet might join us. And nowhere skirts the health code like it does here." A bar that caters to the scum even of Gotham. "So let's enjoy ourselves." She would go to take up her latest glass and go to take a pull of it after letting Zinda do the same.

Janet van Dyne has posed:
"Ahh," Janet says, and clicks her tongue. "I gotcha. Exes, family, or just--" she makes a vague gesture with one hand. "All of the above? Lay it on me, two-way street here. Steve's stuck in Washington this week anyway, something something Fury Sucks."

Her assistant ghosts back into Janet's proximity with a *sparkling* clean glass, filled with crystal-clear ice, cola, and a generous portion of rum. Janet picks it up, slams it back in two gulps, and hands it back to him with a 'keep 'em coming' gesture. "Looks like I've got some catching up to do. Drinks are on me, yeah?" she offers, fingers flexing into a spread of her hands.

Zinda Blake has posed:
Zinda Blake makes a hand-wave gesture to Jan at the drink offer. "Loser buys drinks. That's the deal." Once they get up off the floor, that is. She laughs, then. "Exes? Been so long I plumb-forgot what an 'Ex' is, or even where it goes in th' word." Wink.

"No, we're drinkin' professionally. Job-talk. Killin' people in th' name of Democracy. Hoo-hah!" Seeing Nat toss another beer back, Zinda does the same.

Natasha Romanoff has posed:
Natasha Romanoff would laugh, "No matter the age, I always appreciate your enthusiasm, Zinda. Too many tend to overcopmlicate things in the bigger picture." She would finish throwing her own back and gesture at Janet, "Pleasure to have you with us. I haven't had the chance to spend some time with Zinda myself so this is some catchup for us."

Natasha would wait to finish, then go to grab at another bottle.

Janet van Dyne has posed:
"I'll drink to that," Janet laughs at Zinda's comment. Her new drink arrives in moments-- the little roll of $100s in the otherwise empty tip jar seems to have inspired the bartender to greater aspirations of performance. He's cleaning glasses like a maniac, stopping only long enough to pocket the money before one of the sour-faced other patrons decides to help themselves to it.

She beams a smile at Natasha and salutes her with the low glass before taking a few sips. "How's that whole democracy thing going these days, Z?" Janet inquires of the aviatrix. "I don't think I've killed anyone since we dropped that Russian skank that popped up on the radar a while back." She makes a vaguely inclusive gesture at Natasha. "I'd say I'm overdue but I think me an' Nadia are at capacity for kidnappings for a while."

Zinda Blake has posed:
Zinda Blake picks up a bottle to gesture with it. "Beer is simple, Nat. No frills, no straws, no ice, no mixers, no little umbrellas." she declares, matching the next chug. "Democracy? Oh I'm strictly mercenary these days. Leastwise until we get another facist global threat or somethin'."

She looks over to Nat, then. "We doin' kidnappings?"

Natasha Romanoff has posed:
Natasha Romanoff would take a swig of her own drink, then downing it without actually paying attention tow hat type it was. "Democracy is about living the capitalist lifestyle and making your own progress. You are rich, people may you much money to kill people, and you look fabulous doing it. What else is there needed?" She would reply theatrically.

Nodding over at Janet Van Dyne, "Yes, I do think that you're both due for some time off. And let's hope the few survivors of the last couple of attempts spread an understanding."

Janet van Dyne has posed:
"Carbs," Janet whispers, and taps her glass on the mouth of Zinda's beer bottle. Not enough to really set it off, just to make it bubble a little. She grins impudently and takes another healthy sip of her rum. It's clearly a lot more rum than cola.

She swings her glass over towards Natasha again to offer a silent toast for her words, drains it, and holds out her hand for a fresh one to be immediately delivered. Her assistant's a wiry looking fellow in a grey suit, with shoulder-length blonde hair and the sort of presence that makes him not invisible, but.... unremarkable.

"How'd the thing go in you-know-where with you-know-who and with all y'all?" she inquires of the Russian redhead. "I was glad everyone made it back safe and sound. Eastern Europe is not one of my favorite places to visit."

Zinda Blake has posed:
Zinda Blake lifts a brow when Jan whispers the C-word, then she lets out a little snort. "I've had a whole lot worse, trust me." she replies, tossing back another with Nat. Selecting another beer a little more carefully this time, she watches the conversation for the moment.

Natasha Romanoff has posed:
Natasha Romanoff would nod over at Zinda, "She has." She woulda ffirm over at Zinda, "And you can take it. As your babushka would say, you could stand to put on some. You look too thin. It's not healthy." Natashag oes to flawlessly shift to that very Russian stereotype and accent.
    "And you know how to handle yourself out and about." She and Zinda had expected to be in something of a melee at this point, but she wasn't pushing it. "And operations go well. Eastern Europe is familair terrain. I'll always come back. With most of my parts left. Some of them might even be original for all I know." Not that she was sure -she- was.
    But not something she would ever share.

Zinda Blake has posed:
"Thanks so much, but my flight suit would beg to differ with ya on the subject of my babushka." Zinda quips back, rocking to one side to give her raised hip a playful swat. She adds a wink, reaching for another bottle.

"Every evenin' that starts out drinkin' usually winds up in a fight, at least according to *my* experience." Another look switches from Nat to Jan and then back. "You looking fer a ride to Eastern Europe, then?"

Janet van Dyne has posed:
Janet rolls her eyes a little at Natasha's advice. "Uh, Zinda looks /fabulous/, Nats," she informs the redhead. "And she does it all without the mutated thyroid," she adds, gesturing at herself, then to Natasha again-- "the super soldier drink thing."

At Zinda's question though, Janet sits back again and lifts her free hand in a negative gesture. "Me? God no. I haven't been furthur east than Prague in.... years, at least. Well, not for business, anyway," she amends. "Avengers stuff though, yeah. Anyway-- Natasha and some mutual friends of ours," she says, with an inclusive gesture, "are dealing with a problem in our favorite tin-pot dictatorship." She looks from Zinda to Natasha, and gestures at Zinda with a thumb. "I bet Z's been through the Alps enough times she could do it blindfolded. Might be handy to have a civilian pilot along who knows the terrain, yeah?"

Natasha Romanoff has posed:
Natasha Romanoff would pff, "I've gotten to where I am by the old fashioned way. Building up a tolerance. I just have several decades on both of you to work on it. I'm sure that you'll catch up to me if you keep up with your workout regimen in the next decade or so. The gradual buildup is what's important. And I don't need a ride to eastern europe.. Today, at least." She would muse.
    "Tomorrow.. May be an entirely different story. And yes, Latveria has been -rather- unique and I'm more than happy to leave it to some of the specialists." By that she meant WAND and the Avenger with the big glowy hammer.

Zinda Blake has posed:
Zinda Blake keeps up with Nat, flashing Jan a grin at the compliment all the same. "Thanks so much, honey. Not sure that dress of yours is exactly 'board room' material, but I like it." She's been thrown out of board rooms for her outfits before.

"Flyin' through the Alps? It's been a hot minute, but yeah." Zinda picks up a bit and swirls it a little before drinking it in turn. "What am I gonna be flyin'?" Because if the group is in a plane, then Zinda wants to be at the controls.

Janet van Dyne has posed:
Janet looks down at her dress, plucks at the sleeveline. "This old thing?" It's a JVD original; there's one almost identical on a mannequin in the Fashion district with a $5000 price tag on it. "Well you've got good taste," she informs Zinda with a beaming smile. "But the nice thing about being the CEO is I get to set the rules about the dress code, and rule one is 'Don't look like a slob'," she explains.

She sips her drink and leans her shoulders back against her chair again, tilting the empty glass to yield the floor to Natasha before she hands it off for yet another refill.

Natasha Romanoff has posed:
Natasha Romanoff would smile, "Well, I do have some stories for you. In Stalingrad.." She would go on, "The Soviet Union had an all female reconaissance and light bomber squadron. They were called the Night Witches. All the planes were essentially ones from the first world war. Canvas wings, a propeller. Bombs were thrwon out the side of the cockpit by hand. Very slow, quiet, and unstoppable. The Fascist scum called them something quite a bit harsher." She would smile.
    "I'd say such things are probably wasted on somewhere like here, but you take class with you no matter where you go." SHe would look over at Janet to listen about 'the plane'.

Zinda Blake has posed:
Zinda Blake grins at that, continuing to cycle through the beer. "Yeah. Somethin' that rhymes with 'witches', I'll bet. I'd love t'get ahold of a genuine wood-and-canvas biplane sometime. Have to redo it all, of course, for the rot, but THAT was real flyin'!"

Another beer goes down along with Nat.

"See? With wood an' canvas you gotta be real careful about stress on th' airframe. It ain't like an F-15 that'll let you jerk the stick all around. Try that in a Sopwith Camel or even a Fokker an' you'll rip the wings clean off."

Janet van Dyne has posed:
"Okay, you see that?" Janet wiggles a finger at Zinda while looking at Natasha. "Jerking the stick? Fokkers? I'm such a classy bitch that I'm not even going to make the obvious joke there."

She leans back to beckon her assistant over and they have a quiet, whispered confab. Janet makes a face; his mouth forms a sympathetic moue, and he discreetly steps back again. "I've got a craving for carbs now. Something deep fried and salty. Allen says the food here is, uh, shit, and also the guys on the back wall are working themselves up to come over and give us a shakedown. And not the fun kind. What say we head up to my nightclub?" she offers, rising smoothly. "Private lounge, free drinks, and a, uh..." she looks around the rest of the bar. "Better class of drinking companion," she says, wrinkling her nose.

Natasha Romanoff has posed:
Natasha Romanoff would go to hold up her hand then and look over at the finished number of cases, "I do believe that we have some more to work our way through, ladies. But Janet's offer does sound far more appealing and I'm sure that what they have will be stronger." She would just flash a sadistic smile at the bar that would be enough that no one would want to whatsoever interrupt them on their way out. "Come, the night is stlil young and our livers are still functional."