Owner Pose
Natasha Romanova Natasha Romanoff is currently settled over in her room, seemingly alone. Natasha has left the door to her quarters opened. She hasn't even put in some of the usual booby traps she sets there and justifies it as being 'field training' for anyone coming to greet her unannounced. Currently she's settled over on the couch of her room, where she's watching a game of Australian Rugby where a South Korean team is playing. She's occasionally letting out the occasional swear at something giong on in the match.
Carol Danvers Carol Danvers makes her way down the upstairs hallway. She has two large bags of takeout from a Greek place a few blocks over. The scents of seasoned lamb, goat, beef, chicken, and other dishes waft in her wake.

The bags are big! But then neither Bruce Banner, nor the Hulk, were in their room for Carol to surprise them. And JARVIS had confirmed they'd stepped out that morning and not come back. "Well, shoot," Carol says as she walks along. She calls out, "I have delicious food here! Anyone hungry!?"

She spots the open door ahead and walks over to it. Carol's wearing boots and jeans and a white tank top. She looks like she's got some sun, arms and shoulders tanned. "Nat, you home? Was going to surprise the big guy with food but he's gone," she says, looking in the door.
Greer Grant Tigra was prowling the halls of the mansion idly, a general sort of looking around for anything that might be out of place or replaced by evil duplicates from other dimensions. Those are usually easy to spot, with the goatees. Fortunately, no flower pots with goatees today. On the other hand, she perks up at the smell of food and the open invitation to partake, and with cat-like tread, she quickly approaches the open door. "Someone said food?" she asks with a grin and swish of her tail.
Natasha Romanova Natasha Romanoff would stretch out, "Sure. Hello Carol. Please do join me." A few final words over in Korean, and she's going to shut off the television. "I suppose this means we get all the good things to ourselves." As she would pick up the sounds of Greer approaching, she would chuckle.

"Yes, there is food. And do thank Carol for the bounty on which we will partake. And what Bruce isn't here for he can only blame himsel for. How have you two been doing?" She would gesture at Carol and Greer to sit down.
Carol Danvers Carol Danvers smiles and steps into the room then when Natasha invites them in. "Great. Good people to eat with is an underrated spice," she comments as she comes inside and sets the bags down over on the coffee table by Natasha.

Greer is given a smile and wave to follow her in, and then Carol is pulling containers out of the bag. There are gyros and and entrees and side dishes, Carol got a wide assortment that certainly seems like a Hulk-sized volume of food. "Have any drinks, Nat, or should I call down to the kitchen staff?" she asks.

Carol stands back to let the other women have first pick. She likes everything so is content to let them select their favorites before she decides on what to get. "I'm doing decent. Been working on my folk's old house quite a bit," she says.
Greer Grant Tigra grins shamelessly at the chuckle her inquiry into food produces. She slips into the room in Carol's wake taking a quick look around. "Where'd you get these from?" she asks. "If they taste as good as they smell, I think I'll have to try them again." She'll grab a gyro to start with, a quick beginning to get out of the way of the others so they can pick. "How's that going?" she asks Carol before taking an eager bite.
Natasha Romanova Natasha Romanoff would shift in her position, "And good company. good friends. Good teammates. Good to have you all with us." She would glance over her shoulder at Tigra, "And hello Greer, you're just in time for us to enjoy ourselves with something to eat. And Carol works in mysterious ways. And I'll have the kitchen staff send in. Anything I have on hand isn't quite appropriate for afriendly get together."

Russians had different standards of what was 'friendly' after all. A drink for every season and time. but this wasn't one of those days that was a Russian definition of 'friendly'.
    "Good to have you with us." To Greer. "And are you rebuilding it? Or just fixing it up?"
Carol Danvers Carol Danvers grabs a container that has marinated chicken on a field of rice that has had the marinade also drizzled over it. She moves to take a seat then. "It's from Dafna Greek Taverna," Carol replies. "They've got some amazing food. Hard to walk past the place for the smells of the wood-fired ovens," she says.

Carol cuts a piece of the sliced chicken breast and gets a bit of rice with it and into her mouth. "Mmmmm..." she murmurs as she chews, slowly savoring it. It's a few seconds then before she answers, "Just fixing it up. It hasn't been lived in for years and the neglect, and dated decor, are definitely showing," she says.

Another bite is taken, after which Carol breaks out in a bigger smile. "Had a nice surprise when I finally made it into the barn. The old crop duster my brother taught me to fly in, was still in there. It's not air worthy, but working on it. Diana was out and might help. She hasn't ever really had a chance to work with engines, she said."
Greer Grant Tigra's gotten another two bites into her gyro before she takes a seat near the fireplace, stretching out her legs as only a cat can. "I'll have to go by there, then," she declares. "I should've smelled them before. Must have been trucks or something in the area covering it up whenever I'd gone by before." Another bite and a pause as she listens. "Oh, fix it up, definitely. And then we can reenact that scene from North by Northwest. Just need to pick someone to be Cary Grant. As for the house, well decor might be dated -now- but if you wait long enough it turns into vintage instead."
Natasha Romanova Natasha Romanoff would nod< "Excellent choice. I've been htere on a few occasions. You have very good taste, Carol. The joys of living in a large metropolitain area. A great deal of food, a great many communities, and a great many unique specialties among them all." She would say with relish while going to take a bite of her own chicken wing thats he would pop up to her mouth, BBQ sauce and everything.

"I suppose seeing it is a start to working on things, yes." Apparently Natasha did occasionally havea sense of humor that wasn't related to dropping bodies in places. Good to know.

She would simrk as Tigra would go on and nod and listen. "And that's how you write an advertisement when you're selling it. It's not 'near in ruin', it's a 'unqiue and exotic flair that gives a distinct impression of the time period with a sense of history'."
Carol Danvers From the expressions on her face, Carol seems to really be digging the marinade on the chicken. There's a lot of soft sighs of enjoyment after bites. "So far I've just cleaned up, repaired some loose boards and things like that. Get the lawn taken care of," she says between bites. "Got the dock planks replaced, figured with the warmer weather will want to get a boat in there. It backs up on a small lake," she says.

Carol takes another bite before adding. "Right now it's really just triggering memories though. I didn't have too much left from that time," she says. She stirs at her food. "Which is good and bad. But I'd still rather know."

She looks over to the feline woman. "What've you been up to Greer?" she asks.
Greer Grant "Not run down, but rustic. It has 'character' and that 'lived in look,'" Tigra amplifies Natasha before finishing off her gyro, slipping out of her seat and advancing on the food to prepare a second round. "Not much the last few days," she admits. "Adjusting a little, though. Spent some time getting better in balanced with myself, that's going well, though," she says in satisfaction.
Natasha Romanova Natasha Romanoff would nod at Greer, "It something you want to talk over about?" A gentle offer. If not one that's being pushed. At the talk of planes would go on, Natasha would have a wistful look. "When I was very young, I took a flight up in a biplane. Under quite different circumstances." She would speak after a few moments, face shifting in effort at recollecting something from so long ago.

The wistfulness did not mean htat it was necessarily a good memory. Just something which had left a strong impression on her.
Carol Danvers "For me it was like a fish falling into water," Carol says of her first flight. "My brother tried to scare me a bit, I think. It's kind of hazy, but I remember the plane rocking back and forth a lot. Figure it had to be intentional. But, didn't dim my enthusiasm for it. Mom would have killed him if she knew how much he let me control the stick," she says with a soft smile.

"Yeah, really glad to get that memory back," she says. "Granted, flying under my own power is a bit more freeing. But still, I do love a good airplane," Carol muses.

Blue eyes focus over on Natasha. "Story behind it, Nat? Or just a flight somewhere?" There's a good chance Carol can guess it is the former, given what they know of Natasha's history and the Red Room.
Greer Grant A casual shrug from Tigra at Natasha's careful question. "Basically had to address who, and what, I am. At my core. Sense of self." She flicks the amulet on her top with a clawtip, drawing a quiet musical sound. "Without this, I couldn't be Tigra. It felt like I was holding back, not committing to it. And now, well, I've committed," she says." A wry grin at Carol. "Much as I love who I am, what I can do, being able to fly would be something else, entirely." And a look to the Widow to see if she's going to answer Carol's question.
Natasha Romanova Natasha Romanoff would close her eyes and let her mind wander to the past. "It was.. Nineteen fourty two. I was.. Eight or nine. In Stalingrad." She focuses on that era of her life. "I was small, and throughout the seige I worked as a courier. I would take orders, supplies, and other things about." Her memories growing more vivid.

Elaborating after a moment of recollection. "The Nazis had air superiority over the area and could attack without interruption. Nothing could challenge them. Nothing except a small wing which flew old biplanes, dating back to the first World War. The wing had all female pilots. They were called the Night Witches. The Nazis called them something a bit less polite. Biplanes that could fly silently, swoop out of nowhere at night, drop bombs or strafe and then vanish. Impossible for fighters to pursue, too quiet to shoot at or see until they were right on top of them."
Carol Danvers Carol Danvers smiles over to Greer. She confesses about flying, "It has its perks. Especially when dealing with New York traffic." Another bite of the savory chicken follows. "Glad that you're finding some peace with it," she offers to Greer.

The kitchen staff arrive with the beverages, and Carol gets up to go and get them and bring them over to the other two ladies so Natasha's tale isn't interrupted by the arrival.

Carol settles back in then. She hrms quietly as she listens to Natasha's tale. "In those days that must have really been something, a woman even getting to fly a plane, much less in combat," she comments.
Greer Grant Tigra listens as Natasha goes into story teller mode, tail flicking idly. Quietly she leans over to grab a drink, not wanting to interrupt. "Easy to forget how...much history you've seen," she says, more eloquently than saying 'how old you are.' A snort at talk of New York's traffic. "I go by rooftop, but that only gets you so far. that was definitely an interesting time. You had women in combat in Russia, and here you had women ferrying aircraft across the country and even across the Atlantic. And then the boys expect the girls to go back to playing house afterwards."
Natasha Romanova Natasha Romanoff would nod at Carol, "The Soviet Union, for it's numerous faults declaed gender equality when it was formed in nineteen seventeen. Women could serve in the military and take on leadership roles. There were a few all female units in the Soviet forces. As a little girl I was picke dup and flown behidn German lines iwth the instructions to sneak into a division headquarters of the Fascists to steal some documents."

She would twitch her lips upwards in a smile, "It did not go particularly well. First, the wind blew us rather off course and the pilot, having to navigate with a compass at night and no insturments was several kilometers out of th eway. So as she set down we had to figure out where we were and then I walked towards the objective. Which was the headquarters for a completely different unit that had nothing of value whatsoever. While there I made a noise, and the Fascists shot at me on the way out while I was running. And the pilot picked me up and we fled while under small arms fire. I got the first of many scars I would have throughout the rest of my life that day."
Carol Danvers Carol winces a bit as the rest of Natasha's story unfolds. "War today is so much different. Though, yeah. Not really any better when you get down to the heart of it," she says with a sigh and a shake of her head.

A bottle of flavored seltzer is opened. Blackberry. Carol takes a sip of it and then gets back to her chicken. "I so love this marinade. Wonder if Banner could stick it under one of his lab machines and tell me the ingredients for it," she muses.

Carol looks back to Tigra's amulet. "So have you managed to keep a life going outside of... you know. All of this?" Carol asks, a gesture towards the mansion that is the Avenger's base.
Greer Grant Tigra winces a bit at Natasha's run down of a mission going awry. Not a fun time. "War. War never changes," she intones in a mock baritone when Carol talks of war today, and then a swig of her soda. "Not significantly," she answers with a shake of her head. "This was still who I am. I just needed to, I don't know. it's not like I didn't know it, realize it or accept it. I just needed to take a final step. Weakened my healing some, but I'm more in tune with myself, and that's well worth it."
Natasha Romanova Natasha Romanoff would nod at Tigra, "It takes time to figure things out. And some things you have to do at your own pace. I'm glad that you're able tow ork through it and that you've found.. I'm not sure if peace is the right term for it?" She would consider. "Tranquility? Acceptance?"
Carol Danvers Carol Danvers finishes a bite of chicken and then tells Greer, "Maybe you can tell Thor how wonderful it was and talk up meditation. See if you can get him into joining you for it and then just sit there with him quietly and see how long he can take it before he goes stir crazy." Carol's face is lit with a devilish grin.

"Seriously though, happy for you. Lord knows we go through a lot. Being at peace in our downtime is such an important thing," she says. Carol's sigh suggests she has found that isn't always something that happens, either.
Greer Grant "All of the above?" Tigra suggests back to Natasha. "Hard to put a single word on it, but that's fine, it doesn't need a label." She snorts at the mental image of teaching Thor to meditate. "Yeah, I can't see that going well. Like, at all. No, for him, I think what he needs is punch bags or sparring targets or something that's enchanted to stand up to his strength, so he can just wail away and burn off some stress." That sigh is certainly noticed. Tigra tilts her head, lifts an eyebrow and makes a 'go on' gesture with a hand in invitation.
Natasha Romanova Natasha Romanoff would laugh, "Some things are a sensation. You cannot put them to words very well. And few things can stand up to Thor's strength. He enjoys spars with things that can hit him back. There are fewer that can do that and fewer places that can take that level of melee on a regular basis." She would laugh at Carol.
Carol Danvers Carol Danvers finishes her food, setting the container aside and then leaning back in her chair. "Mmm. That hit the spot," she says. "And the both of you eat so much more politely than Hulk does," Carol adds. Then mimes chewing with her mouth open as wide as she possibly can before breaking out in more quiet laughter.

"That he does," Carol agrees about Thor's preferred manner of stress relief. "Well, long as he does it down in the training room. We don't need Mjolnir-shaped holes in all the walls," she comments. She rests her hands on her belly, fingers laced as she relaxes back.
Greer Grant "Comes with being a cat," Tigra says smugly about eating politely. "We're fastidious like that, after all." she laces her fingers together and reaches up and back, arching her spine in a long, indulgent stretch. "That's the hard point of powers like that that. I mean, how do you practice? Well, in Asgard I suppose it might be a little easier, everything and everyone's built to a different scale, but that only goes so far. And of course you don't have even that to help you out," she says with a nod towards Carol.
Natasha Romanova Natasha Romanoff would bark a laugh, "I would hope to think that we also both eat more politely than Thor does. But I've not tried to brave some of those.. Events that he's had over at the Asgardian Embassy. So I'm not the best qualified to make such a determination."

She would fold her arms. "There's the difference between practicing and exerting. I believe that our Crown Prince prefers things which he has to push himself physically at. Few landscapes can take it."
Carol Danvers Carol crosses one leg over the other. "Yes, depends on when, for me. I've had some facilities that could handle me in that regard. Just, you know, there were other downsides. Alien planet. Brainwashing and fake memories. The usual," she says, giving a little circular motion with her fingers as if she was describing something run of the mill, that everyone has gone through at some point.

"Still, I'm glad to be here now, and have you guys," Carol says, flashing a warm smile over to the other two ladies. "Here's to hoping there aren't any world about to come to an end issues for a few days so we can enjoy ourselves now the weather is nice."