136/A meeting of spiders

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A meeting of spiders
Date of Scene: 26 February 2020
Location: Yelena's penthouse.
Synopsis: On hold (Not canon due to complications)
Cast of Characters: Yelena Belova, Natasha Romanoff

Yelena Belova has posed:
    SHIELD's own surveilance network had -lost- Yelena since she entered the country at least six times since she'd shown up in NYC. Each absence had a coincidental discovery of dead Russian mobsters across the city the following day, Russian mobsters eliminated with a stunning level of precision. For the first confirmed time since the Russian revolution, The second Black Widow had started to become active oncemore. There was no attempt to put in place an elaborate cover, not even a token effort at disguising the skill at which she worked. Yelena Belova was sending up a flag, it would seem.

    Tonight her luxurious modernist masterpiece of a pent house had been vacant, and well she'd stepped off grid again the moment the sun went down. In her absence the Penthouse was hardly a fortune, and though it's security system was relatively modern it was hardly anything unusual. Inside it was all modern art and uncomfortable furniture, it was set dressing really. To the experienced eye it wasn't just too clean, it wasn't really lived in.

    Still there was a backpack stuffed with all the sorts of "grab and go" stuff you'd expect from a spy, including a suppressed pistol and a hundred grand worth of freshly cut diamonds. It's a neat check list of things you'd expect, but none of it feels exactly right...

Natasha Romanoff has posed:
    Natasha would say that she's met children who've made less desperate cries for attention, but... most of the children she knew were on the quiet side.
    This isn't Natasha Romanova's first rodeo, of course, and she's made an evening out of turning Yelena Belova's home upside down without any evidence of that fact that most trained eyes would notice. There's a familiar barreness to the place that's at once disconcerting and oddly nostalgic.
    Hidden knives have been... 'misplaced' in inconveniant - if oddly equally hidden places. Hidden firearms have been left where they are. The ammunition, less so.
    Whatever time Yelena returns, Natasha will be waiting for her on the couch, fingers steepled patiently in her lap, one leg crossed over the knee, eyes staring straight ahead until they're given something to look at.

Yelena Belova has posed:
    A book case shifts out from the wall, and theres a flood of light as Yelena steps out of a well hidden service elevator. She pauses in the portal for a moment, gaze sweeping the room and locking right onto Nat for a moment. She slips foreward, duffel bag over one shoulder and that uniform cap in the other. Gently nudging the book case back into place with an audible clack of an electronic lock. She is armed incidentally, which makes sense considering she's dressed up in a rather fantastic dupe of an NYPD uniform.

    "Took you long enough, I figured they'd have sent the boyscout honestly. Well him or a suit, never took them for the types to send you."She tosses that cap towards Nat casually, before slinging the duffel bag onto the coffee table. "You want a drink, incidentally? I usually unwind with a Mojito or two after a little espionage, you?"Just as casual as can be.

Natasha Romanoff has posed:
    It's the be expected that Yelena would be armed, but if Natasha's worried about it she betrays no hint of it in her body language. Considering how openly - in relative terms - this meeting was offered, a direct attack from Yelena would be asinine as far as traps go.
    Which isn't to say the place isn't surrounded.
    Natasha's eyes flit to Yelena's unusual state of dress, and the duffle bag, but her expression doesn't change from a blank mask until Yelena speaks, allowing herself to show... slightly unengaged bemusement, "You know how it is. Backlogs build up. Priorities get shuffled around. Someone spills coffee on the wrong file. You're not the only person leaving breadcrumb trails."
    Natasha's head inclines just slightly in a curious manor, giving the offer of a drink the barest handgesture of dismissal as she carries on her line of thought, "Though trails this sloppy aren't usually left on purpose."

Yelena Belova has posed:
    "Yes well, frankly I expected a visit when I was still in Cuba."She circles out to the kitchen, and after a few moments she returns with a pair of Mojitos never the less. Sliding one across the table towards Natasha, before finally slumping into a designer chair that must have cost god knows how much. There she pauses for a moment to sip, before clearing her throat. "I get it, everything was wild. Considering I'd spent time around Escobar and knew how he operated, you'd think they'd have floated me something but no."

    She gives a little plaintive shrug as she reclines, crossing those boots at the ankle. "Anyway a few years ago they got ahold of me again, tried to get me involved in the new Winter Guard or some silly nonsense. I asked what they'd do about Nebakov, but they played dumb."And another pause as she sips. "So I got around to killing him, and figured I'd throw in with you guys instead. I'd be a liar if I said I didn't derive some perverse pleasure in making them watch, You would not believe what they promised me if I changed my mind."

Natasha Romanoff has posed:
    Natasha stops the sliding glass with the toe of her boot, the crook between the toe and the heel pressing against the edge of the table while the rest of her remains entirely stationary before she pulls it back and sits properly, now that the mandatory 'strong presence' has been established at the start.
    Natasha's eyes narrow very very subtly as Yelena speaks. She doesn't interrupt, she doesn't give any more hint than that that Yelena is checking boxes in a column she probably doesn't want to be checking. Yelena is throwing a lot of names around, and just as Yelena's dark spiel ends, Natasha pokes at one of them. "And what did you want with Nebakov?" She asks as naturally as one might respond in conversation... without actually addressing what Yelena is searching for, sidestepping the actual train of thought in search of information Natasha is curious about.
    Natasha doesn't actually know who Nebakov is, but it's fine if Yelena thinks she does.

Yelena Belova has posed:
    "The shrink who constructed your psychological profile after you'd left, wrote something like ten volumes about how your mind works. Specified in detail what about you had been made wrong, what parts of you were defective. He was crucial to the program of course, because after you left? You blew whole departments apart, everyone was desperate for somebody to blame. So when they sat down to construct the program to select your replacement, it was Nebakov who made the selections. I mean the Red Room was so deep in the shadows by then, nobody even wanted to know what they were doing beyond that they were going to -fix- it right?"One eyebrow raised as she sips her Mojito, pausing just a touch to savor that little snap of mint.

    "I was their third candidate to make it to the indoctrination phase, only one to survive the drugs, the electric shocks and the mind control shit. Took them two years to rip me completely apart, so that I could be you."And with that Yelena offers only a little shrug as she reaches across to park her drink aside. "Well a more obedient you, that was the goal. Worked for awhile too, I spent like two years thinking -I- was Natalia Romanova. Then you know I just rolled with it, burried it under the patriotic nonsense they pumped into my head. I was the Black Widow, and -you- were an imposter out there. Holy shit did I hate you for the longest time too, if only because I had to keep my hair died so I looked more like you."