6353/A little bit of culture

A little bit of culture
Date of Scene:	27 May 2021
Location:	Clint's Room - Avengers Mansion
Synopsis:	Wanda invites Clint to a bonafide gypsy party. Now to find a proper outfit that won't make him look like Zorba the Great.
Cast of Characters:	Wanda Maximoff, Clint Barton

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Wanda Maximoff has posed:
The weather in New York City is getting warmer. Gone and almost forgotten are the bitter, chill winds that blew down the corridors of concrete and steel. Trees that bloom are, and buds are fast appearing upon the boughs. The month of showers has passed, leaving behind sunny days with wisps of clouds dotting the sky during the day, and the heavens awash in stars at night.

This is a time when moods change from dark and dreary even during the day, to a little more happiness, a little more lightness.

It's late now, but there's a quick, quiet rapping upon the chamber door of one Clint Barton, complete with an ear to hear any answer. Wanda's been out and about in the City, only now returning back to the Mansion. Her footfalls on the stairs were light and still energetic for the hour; a giveaway of her contained (barely) excitement.

Clint Barton has posed:
From inside comes the simple reply of "Come in." It's the Mansion, after all, not like strangers are going to be asking to come in. Besides, there's a good chance he recognizes Wanda's knock anyway.

Upon opening the door, she would find Clint lying on the couch wearing shorts, a t-shirt and socks watching a baseball game on TV. There's the remains of a frozen meal on the coffeetable in front of the couch and a bottle of soda sitting next to it. Looking over as the door opens, his face is lit up by the smile that grows across it, "Hey love, how was your day?"

He sits upright and hits the mute button on the remote so she doesn't have to try and compete with the ball game.

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
It's uncanny, really, in how much in sync the pair can be at times. She has a certain step, a certain knock, a certain energy that she carries that may very well be translated across the aether. Or, it could all just be chalked up to the synergy called 'love'.

The door to the room opens, revealing a somewhat gaily dressed Wanda. She's got layers of hues of red; from dark crimsons to brilliant reds, all layered in skirts and levels of tunics, ending in leather boots. Red hair is down, and ribbons adorn the now slightly mussed hair. She steps in, closes the door behind her, and with a quick glance to the television, and the baseball game (she's learning how to enjoy it, at the very least!), she crosses the room towards him. She bends over to press a kiss before settling herself down in a cleared spot, her good mood obvious in every step, in her green eyes, the smile. "I have news."

News?

Clint Barton has posed:
Returning the kiss, Clint slips an arm around her once she sits, saying quietly, "Well, you look like you were out having some fun. You look great. So what is it that gets you all dressed up with ribbons in your hair?"

He clicks the TV off entirely, tossing the remote aside, then continues, "Well, share then, what's up?" He turns slightly to face her so he can watch her eyes as she speaks, smiling at the happiness reflected in her every movement. This is the Wanda he loves seeing the most, happy and vibrant, and he's keen to find out what sort of thing causes it.

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
The television is turned off, and there is that apologetic flicker that fleetingly crosses her face before she's back to that brightness, and she leans in to him as he snakes the arm about her. "Your Russian is good." How's that for an opener? "Soo.. will not be problem." Even better?

Wanda takes a free hand to reach out and rub his arm gently, affectionately. "I was out, and I hear things." Turning slightly, her smile remains and her head tilts, "Friends are engaged, and there will be party. So.. I think you have not been to a real party yet." The smile grows once more, "There will be dancing, and drinking." There's a pause before she adds, "Lots."

Clint Barton has posed:
Clint Barton grins, "That's great, an engagement party sounds fun. We so seldom get to go out and do that kind of thing, always too busy with our Avenger and SHIELD lives." He gives her a squeeze with the arm he's got around her. "From the way you opened that, I'm guessing your friends are from your neck of the woods. Well, doesn't bother me, your folks can throw a heck of a party when they want to from what I understand."

He shakes his head, "Though I worry about the hangover the day or two after the party when you say I haven't been to a real party yet. I've been to a couple of Tony's that nearly killed me, so that thought is a little scary." He doesn't look that worried though, more amused really.

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
Wanda nods her head, her expression shifting briefly to a wistfulness before it brightens once more. "There is little simple happiness and is easy to forget life." She leans in again to the squeeze, and exhales in a sigh, "Is nice to be simple."

Twisting slightly, her smile turns to something of a playful smirk, "Gypsy party, so not Russian, not Sokovian, not.. anything but gypsy. But, Russian is main language for party. So.." and she pats his arm in an underscore of her words, "if you have any question of meaning, ask me first. Please."

Nothing worse than being taken by a gypsy! (Well, okay.. there are worse things!)

Even comparing it to a Stark party, however, gains an amused scoff, and she 'pulls away' just enough to look at him sideways. "Stark has nothing on gypsy party. He could learn from us. Dancing, singing, drinking.. it will be only time when I will have drink." Or two.

"Pietro will be coming too."

Clint Barton has posed:
Clint Barton grins, "I'll be sure to have you translate if I'm not certain, but you're right, simple is good. We don't get to do simple very often at all, so it'll be nice to just unwind, relax and enjoy for a change. It'll be a night to not worry about anything but enjoying ourselves at a party."

He grins, "I think I'll be pretty safe there, after all, I've got the best gypsy witch of all on my side." He winks at her with a smile, "And yeah, Tony's parties tend to mainly involve a lot of drinking, sounds like this till be more fun than that. So is there a dress code or anything? Don't wanna show up in jeans and a hoodie or something. We can always go shopping for something appropriate if we need to."

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
'To not worry about anything' is a wonderful thought, and while there wasn't a great deal of tension in the shoulders, her back, they relax even more, and she leans against him in light encouragement to lie down on the couch, in the tight quarters.

"I think you will be perfect," Wanda sighs, "I will have the most handsome date; the other women will flirt," she warns. "But, you will be safe."

Tony's parties are indeed legendary in their alcoholic measures; very theatric, but completely different than this gathering. "This will be more fun. There are lots of dances just for men, and just for women. Drinking, stories, and challenges." Her expression is still animated, but she is growing more and more comfortable in his presence, the later hour starting to take something of a hold. "We will go shopping, if you like. Jeans are fine, but if you like, we will have you looking like proper gypsy." She tilts her head, her smile still easy upon her lips, "One day, I will teach you Sokovian. Then, you will hear more secrets." After all, Russian is 'the' language, but the other languages are usually where the whispers happen, all the secrets told.

Clint Barton has posed:
Clint Barton laughs and lies back on the couch, drawing her down to lay on his chest and wrapping his arms around her. "As long as you remember that you're not allowed to turn them into frogs just for flirting with me, young lady." he teases, then kisses the top of her head. "We'll both have to be on good behavior, because of the men don't want to flirt with you, they must be blind."

He chuckles, "I don't know about going full gypsy, but we can at least get me something a little nice that will fit in with the general theme, anyway." Another kiss, and he adds, "Any time you want to start, I wouldn't mind learning. I'd like to be able to talk to you in your own language, even if you do have an adorable accent when you speak English."

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
A softly exhaled 'mmm' sounds as the pair get more comfortable, her head lying mostly on his chest now. She can hear his heart beating, the rhythm sounding through her body, warming her very soul. This is another moment Wanda would never wish to be over.

"No frogs, promise," is smiled. "Though, if you wish to challenge others to a game of knife throwing..."

After all, Clint never misses.

Wanda smiles at the soft laughter, and she tilts her head up, green eyes dancing, "You will not look like you are wearing costume, promise." Another soft, happy noise escapes the witch, and she wiggles slightly to find that perfect, comfortable spot. "We will start tonight." A pretty frown creases her lips soon after, though it is truly affectionate, "I will learn American accent. Do you think New York?"

Clint Barton has posed:
He pats her back with one hand, saying, "Why would you want to learn an American accent? I like the way you sound now, why would you want to sound just like everyone else? Be you, love, don't worry about that kind of thing." He grins a little at the thought of the knife contest, "Well, I mean, I'd win, but do I really want to annoy a bunch of gypsies with knives? Seems like it could interrupt our worry-free evening."

Relaxing with a happy sigh, he runs his hand gently up and down her back, "We need more moments like this in our lives, you know that?" He lies under her, just enjoying the warmth of her body on top of his for a few moments before he adds "I'll leave the wardrobe up to you, just want something nice that won't make me look like I don't belong there."

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
Rubbing her cheek against his chest, Wanda just takes in the rise and fall of his breathing, his warmth, feeling it all around her. It's comfortable, and allows her to close her eyes to half-mast, her own breaths nice and deep. "Well," and a chuckle exits her throat, "I think American accent is cute." Wanda runs her hand along Clint's side, now, holding and embracing him as she lies there. "Mine is.." She shrugs lightly, and the thought passing. Instead?

"I think the others will be impressed with your skill. They would drink to your health, and you will have more friends than you think." A whole new network of contacts, perhaps? No.. definitely. And he wouldn't even have to go through her! "Once they are your friends, you will have them for life."

A soft, happy noise escapes the witch again, and she nods against his chest, "I wish the world would stop. But, if we did not do what we do, could we appreciate this?" She moves up just a little to lay a kiss on his throat, the bottom of his jaw. "Every minute precious, each party as if there will be no other after." She smiles, and again, a soft laugh exits, "Where ever it is I go, you belong. We will find something in purple for you."

Clint Barton has posed:
With a smile, he shrugs a little "Everybody probably feels that way about their accent. And I'll love you with an American accent just the same as with your current one, so whatever makes you happy is fine."

"If you don't think they'd get too annoyed at being beaten every time, it wouldn't hurt to make some contacts. And you can never have too many people drinking to your health in our business, given the number of people trying to ruin our health for good." He hmms, "Friends for life would be a good thing, never know when you might need a hand, or would be able to help them out and make the relationship stronger."

He nods, chuckling quietly, "You're right, of course. If this was our normal evening, it wouldn't stand out as something special. No light without darkness, and all that sort of thing." Tilting his head to meet her gaze, he replies, "Purple works, maybe something in a silk shirt. Then again, my only idea of gypsy couture is from bad movies and TV shows, so probably far from the truth."

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
"If you think is cute, I will keep it." It's decided, then, in something of a soft, almost dreamy tenor. She's very comfortable as she lies there, and there is a decided danger that he'll be pinned to the couch by a snoozing Wanda. Worse things have happened?

"After awhile, they will realize you cannot be beaten," she explains, her tones that softly comfortable tenor. "They will respect that, and will come when you need." She falls silent a moment before she continues, "And word travels quickly in caravan, so you never know. You may have friends in Russia, in Ukraine, or England." It's a secret Wanda's never really told anyone; the secret to her and Pietro's survival 'on the run' for so long. Where ever there is a caravan, there is safety; only the twins never stayed for long 'lest trouble came because of them.

Those blue eyes, and her emerald eyes rise to meet them, her affectionate smile reflecting her feeling for him easily. "Or we can look in Pietro's closet and see what it is you like. Then, we get that. Silk?" Wanda shakes her head, "Is very rich."

Clint Barton has posed:
Clint seems quite comfortable where he is, and would have no complaints if this was where morning found them. With a little nod, he murmers, "Given our job, friends all over the place is a very, very good thing. We try to make contacts all over the world just in case we find ourselves somewhere and in need of friends."

He reaches up and runs his fingers gently through her glorious hair, "Oh, I bet Pietro would just love me rummaging through his stuff." He grins, "I mean, you've barely managed to make him be polite to me to begin with." He adjusts a cushion under his head and asks her quietly, "What do you say we just sleep like this? Don't know about you, but I'm pretty comfy."

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
"Is very good thing," Wanda repeats, her words threatening to fade in her comfort. If she isn't able to keep an eye on him around the world, at least 'her' network can. At least there is someone that he could nominally trust to help.

Wanda makes that soft, happy noise, her eyes closing as she rub-digs her cheek into his chest. "He likes you. He just believes I am princess, and you are frog. But, everyone would be frog to him." Technically, she is? After a fashion, anyway. "And it is only looking. But, we will shop anyway.. but that is tomorrow. Tonight?" There is a gentle hug, a squeeze, and she relaxes under his touch, on top of her archer. "Me too," she murmurs, "Me too."