12241/Russian Moving

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Russian Moving
Date of Scene: 01 August 2022
Location: Bronx Tenements
Synopsis: Natasha helps Yelena move in to her first apartment. It's rather sweet!
Cast of Characters: Natasha Romanoff, Yelena Belova

Natasha Romanoff has posed:
Yelena was getting an apartent of her own. Or a tenement building. Somewhere that if the ceiling diwn't look like you needed to prop it up with something it would be survivalbe. Natasha would be helping carrying things about.

Yelena Belova has posed:
To be honest, Yelena is pretty excited about the place. It's hers; not a safehouse, even if it sort of is, after a fashion, but a real place to lay her head. It's not assigned by any alphabet agency, either Russian or American, and it honestly ticks all of the blonde Widow's boxes.

"There is ice cream shop nearby, so in case I run out.." and she has a running commentary about all the amenities of the area. Crime is manageable, shopping is.. manageable.

And, to be honest, there isn't a lot that Yelena actually //owns// that could go into a sparsely furnished walk-up tenement apartment. "It was only place that comes with ice box that works." Such are her priorities?

Third floor, up concrete and steel with chunks peeled off give off a homey air, as well as the dangling light bulb as dim illumination.

Natasha Romanoff has posed:
Natasha Romanoff would nod, "Yes, yes. You have a budget you can live within. I'm sure if you get really bored there are things you can do to find more things to have here." No, she didn't expect Yelena would rob thrift stores. Hot Topics, yes. Definitely that one.

"So you like it? Enough to want to put dow na security deposit without having to set fire to it first to make sure you got out most of the cockroaches and rats? Or do they remind you too much of home and you can't imagine somewhere without them?"

Yes, that bit was sincere. Having her own place for awhile after the barracks had been strange.

Yelena Belova has posed:
Yelana barks a quick, stuccato 'ha!' before continuing, "I still have monies. I think I am richest I have been." Isn't America great? "But bored?" Yelena digs out her key for a lock that is merely a suggestion rather than anything that might actually give some security, and opens the door. Beyond, there's a musty smell, and the apartment reveals itself for what it is: a proper cold-war era single bedroom apartment, cousin to the tenements so well known in Moscow and dotted along the Russian countryside. Plaster is upon the walls, peeling in places. In the window, a little half-lace curtain that does nothing for privacy.

"I am already boooooored," and the word comes in a long exhalation, very much like a teenager. "The most excitement I've had is tripping a guy who was taking the last fudge nut cookie."

Yelena enters and walks through the spare living room; the chances are good she won't be changing much of it all. "Deposit? For this? No one has said such. I think he decided against it." Another laugh does escape the blonde Widow, but she does do a quick scan as if she may catch such a critter or three. Her voice lowers, and she exhales, "This is perfect. Out of the way, and," she stalks towards the window, where there is a nice view of the environs, "easily defendable."

Not so much home as 'it will do'.

Natasha Romanoff has posed:
Natasha Romanoff would look over at it, "Why, it's just like home. It just needs to be built up over on concrete stilts and piled a kilometer high and it would be perfect." She would glance over at the things up and look over them with fondness. "I never took you for a traditional one, Yelena. It's nice to see that you have some level of style to yourself."

Natasha remmebers all thsoe old Soviet tenement buildings. They were all the same. "Good, good. Remember your priorities. ALso you can put a grapple line from here.." She would point out the main window to the rooftop across the street.. "For quick exit and return. I presume you already know where the cameras are so you can disable them while needed?" She would smile. "And I'm happy for you. You finally have something that is your's. Your own place." Natasha is not a romantic. But she can tell how excited Yelena is at this and she'll defend the girl no matter what it takes to help her keep it up.

Yelena Belova has posed:
Yelena follows Natasha's words with a bit of a smile; she knows those cold-war edifaces, has lived in them, gone to school in them.. fought and killed in them. "Just like home," she returns dryly. "You have a strange view of home." Or more to the point, they both do. 'Home' is a foreign concept to the blonde; it'll take years, if ever, for that to change.

"Grapple line, yes.. and come here," and Yelena is on the move, leading the way down a short corridor to the bedroom. There is another window, but she's not looking out there. Instead? "Up is roof." She points up, "And just there," three steps are taken until she is just beside the wall, "is an empty unit," that she'd emptied herself, on the roof.

"Down," five paces are taken, and she crouches down to draw a small square on the floor, "Where neighbor spends most of his time." So, if she pulls it and lands on him, she'd be able to take him out in one go, and continue..

Looking up from her crouch, her smile grows into something that might look like pride. "My own place." Of course, what she'd described could be true, or.. fabricated in order to keep a measure of safety- probably a little of both. After all, trust is a commodity.

Rising to her full height once more, she runs a hand over her shorts, "Some traditions are good. Some," she shrugs lightly and starts to head back to the hall to the apartment proper, "Not good." Time to pick and choose.. perhaps with help.

Natasha Romanoff has posed:
Natasha Romanoff would shrug, "Home is where we stay. For longer than a bolthole." She's never been one for keepsakes. Few in the spy business are. They have to leave at any point. "It's good to have something familiar for yourself, Yelena. Something that is your own."

She would go to glance over through the window line over and move to glance along through the arcs demonstrated. "And good. I appreciate teh efficiency in knowing how to takedown everyone in the same floor the moment you go through."

Did Natasha make a joke? An actual, hones tto goodness joke? "It's your's. To make as you want it. To be your own." In a sort of sad contrast even with all she has, how old she is, and eerything she has done.. Natasha has never had a home. Somewhere she felt emotionally connected adn tethered to.

With all the money, resources she has.. She will neer have that level of emotoinal attachment to anything or anywhere.

Yelena Belova has posed:
Yelena had a home, once. Somewhere where she felt safe. Somewhere where she felt like others because she was like others. How quickly all had turned around, and the lesson that all could be taken away at a moment's notice was driven in hard, time after time after time. All she'd formed some attachment to, taken and burned and murdered, either by her hand or by another's, but gone all the same.

It's just a matter of time, right?

In that moment, there's a shadow that flittres past those blue eyes, the dark that hasn't yet truly known the light, and she smiles tightly, and nods once, "We shall see, yes?"

The joke certainly doesn't go unnoticed, and as she begins to head into the dingy, dismal looking kitchen, complete with working refridgerator and freezer, she looks back over her shoulder and grins. "Priorities." After all, they both are somewhat hunted by enemies perhaps forgotten by others, but not by the Widows. Plural. they're out there.

"Hey," and there's a pause before, "Why don't you move here? With me. We can be roomies, right? Have loud parties. It would be fun."

Natasha Romanoff has posed:
And that's the difference between the two. And part of -why- Natasha will ensure that she does everything to make sure that Yelena can succeed. She has the Avengers, she has SHIELD.. But in the end, she is just an asset, an operative. She does things to repay for her own red in the ledger. Which is evermore bleeding.

"Yes. You could get some art to put up on the walls maybe. Some street dealers might have some. But art is a personal thing. So grab what makes you happy."

She would go to watch over then and through view, looking out and smiling. "It is -your- home Yelena. Your place to make your own and to stay. I'm certainly good wtih coming for.. Parties, but you need your own space. I can't be the creepy older lady forever."

Yelena Belova has posed:
Yelena barks another laugh, the sound possibly genuine. "Creepy makes for good wingman," she explains. "Not that I need one," is finished. Still, she nods her head ever so slightly as she leans against the largely antiquated appliance. "Is okay, though. I understand."

There's a moment of silence as she gathers herself and after a breath taken, she nods her head in a decisive gesture, "Right. I think first thing is table. I cannot eat cornflakes standing up. Or is it Wheaties, with picture of Captain America on front?"

Natasha Romanoff has posed:
Natasha Romanoff would consider a moment, "I'm sure that you don't need my help to capture a boy, a girl, or whatever it is that you have your heart's desire set on. And you definitely don't need my help conditioning them either." She would tease over.

"And I'm honestly not sure. I suppoes you coulda lways just find a grocery store to rob."

Yelena Belova has posed:
"I will look for some toy boy," is offered up with no little humor. "Pretty and stupid." Though, the uses? Yelena has no time, and it certainly isn't a priority by any means.

Pushing herself off the 'fridge, Yelena looks as if she's headed towards teh door. "I already know floorplans of stores near. Come on. My treat. We will get something to eat, and share first meal here." Breaking bread, even if it's on the floor.

Natasha Romanoff has posed:
Natasha Romanoff would smile, "Good for you. Know what you're after and where you're going to loot first. And remember you can expand your horizons some. If you want to get into some petty burglary on the side.. Let me know if I need to have some police reports conveniently deleted."