Natasha Romanoff (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
deaddrop) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
ximilialog2022-05-26 05:03 pm
deaddrop) wrote in ximilialog2022-05-26 05:03 pm
Entry tags:
—open log
CHARACTERS: Natasha+
LOCATION: various
DATE: post-mission
CONTENT: food, training, manicures
WARNINGS: tbd
Midnight Snack
[Is it really the middle of the night if you're in space? On the other hand, is it always sort of the middle of the night if you've been awake for twenty hours or so? Natasha has the sneaking suspicion it is, but she's not sleeping now either so she might as well be doing something.
Just now, something takes the form of rattling around in the kitchen. Hopefully anyone drawn to the sound isn't hoping for some homemade cooking through. At the moment, Natasha seems to be less cooking and more assembling. She has bread laid out and a knife, and presently she's rummaging through pantries and refrigerators for something to build a sandwich.
She's happy to make two, if anyone wants one.
Don't trust her not to lick the knife, though.]
Morning Workout
[In the training room:]
Interested in going a couple of rounds?
[Natasha stands by the benches dressed for a workout, tank top and flexible pants. She doesn't cut an especially intimidating figure; she's not tall, and while she's more fit than most people might clock at a glance, she's still a perfectly normal, fairly petite woman. A scar peaks out from under her sleeveless top, a bullet wound that's long since healed but left a pale, puckered mark. It's not her only one.
She stretches thoughtfully, not in any particular hurry. She's also not shy as she asks.]
More interesting than shadow boxing, at least.
[She rolls her shoulders, then shrugs.]
Killing Time
[Natasha is a thief. Not professionally, though stealing is certainly within her skill set. Today, the thievery is recreational. Natasha isn't even trying to hide it. She sits out in the common living area with her ill-gotten gains—a stash of nail polish she stole from her sister, Yelena.
Different colors are arranged in front of her. Most of them bright. Some with flecks of glitter or holo flecks in them. It's really quite the collection.
Natasha pushes away some of the neon colors, picking up a few of the more subdued darker or more neutral colors, before settling on a berry red and shaking the bottle.
She'll start painting her nails, absolutely shameless. Anyone who sits nearby might quickly find they become a target.]
Wildcard
[Don't see something you like? Let's do something else!]
LOCATION: various
DATE: post-mission
CONTENT: food, training, manicures
WARNINGS: tbd
Midnight Snack
[Is it really the middle of the night if you're in space? On the other hand, is it always sort of the middle of the night if you've been awake for twenty hours or so? Natasha has the sneaking suspicion it is, but she's not sleeping now either so she might as well be doing something.
Just now, something takes the form of rattling around in the kitchen. Hopefully anyone drawn to the sound isn't hoping for some homemade cooking through. At the moment, Natasha seems to be less cooking and more assembling. She has bread laid out and a knife, and presently she's rummaging through pantries and refrigerators for something to build a sandwich.
She's happy to make two, if anyone wants one.
Don't trust her not to lick the knife, though.]
Morning Workout
[In the training room:]
Interested in going a couple of rounds?
[Natasha stands by the benches dressed for a workout, tank top and flexible pants. She doesn't cut an especially intimidating figure; she's not tall, and while she's more fit than most people might clock at a glance, she's still a perfectly normal, fairly petite woman. A scar peaks out from under her sleeveless top, a bullet wound that's long since healed but left a pale, puckered mark. It's not her only one.
She stretches thoughtfully, not in any particular hurry. She's also not shy as she asks.]
More interesting than shadow boxing, at least.
[She rolls her shoulders, then shrugs.]
Killing Time
[Natasha is a thief. Not professionally, though stealing is certainly within her skill set. Today, the thievery is recreational. Natasha isn't even trying to hide it. She sits out in the common living area with her ill-gotten gains—a stash of nail polish she stole from her sister, Yelena.
Different colors are arranged in front of her. Most of them bright. Some with flecks of glitter or holo flecks in them. It's really quite the collection.
Natasha pushes away some of the neon colors, picking up a few of the more subdued darker or more neutral colors, before settling on a berry red and shaking the bottle.
She'll start painting her nails, absolutely shameless. Anyone who sits nearby might quickly find they become a target.]
Wildcard
[Don't see something you like? Let's do something else!]
no subject
（ he can only think of clara who, despite being nearly normal, has never failed to make an impact on missions no matter how squishy she may be. ）
Our efforts are collaborative. No one person acts alone. It is our duty to support one-another whether we are presently weak or strong.
no subject
Itachi doesn't strike her as the kind of person who sugarcoats things for the sake of someone's delicate feelings. And Natasha's feelings? They aren't so delicate.]
Good to know. Not much of a chance I was going to put my feet up.
[She's not any good at that, even when she tries.]