| We /Get/ Intel |
| Summary: | Kurt picks up Domino from a drop off point, goes to talk about her relationship to SHIELD, speak of paranoid, Clint and Natasha show up to explain they can get all the intel want cause good guys |
| Date: | (2014-10-11) |
| Related: | http://ageofheroesmux.wikidot.com/plot:the-menace-of-mongo |
| NPCs: | NA |
| Scene Runner: | None |
| Social/Plot: | Social |
| Players: |
 .. .. .. .. |
Cold, wet, rainy and miserable. That is the City at this very moment, as the sun begins to set. Traffic is at its height, headlights on, windshield wipers on, and tempers? On.
SHIELD is, and will always be an intelligence agency. Their people are top notch spies; they are trained, trained some more, and trained again just to be sure the training sticks. As a result, there are drones in the city that fly, or can, and there are police dashboard cameras, and there are CCTV cameras all over the city just waiting to be tapped into by the Agency. As a result?
If SHIELD wants to find someone, they can.
Period.
Say hello to the camera, Domino! Don't forget to wave!
With some help by Romanov, Kurt found some digs, got it under an alias. Lots of windows and lots of blinds just in case of things like camera's and unwanted eyes. Domino knows where it is. Hopefully she remembers to call for a port in to avoid someone seeing her go there. As it is, Kurt is there but hasn't sat well since meeting the SHIELD agents. More his trust was in Domino, perhaps misplaced all the same, but that's where it was. He wanted to talk to her about the mission itself.
As its been a few days since he's seen her, he finally sits up that rainy night, in sweat pants and hoodie, lounging in front a fire place and those closed blinds. Whipping out a cell phone, he calls one of her numbers he has, whatever disposable cell number she gave him last. It starts ringing on his end, and he imagines she's picked an awesome song for him, so she knows it by ring and doesn't have to look at the number he's using. In his mind her phone is ringing with 'what does the fox say …', then he hopes she's not on some job, with track-suit russians, or in a trunk. Second that, if she's in a trunk, he hopes she picks up so he can port his way to her for a quick pick me up to safety or something.
Rain means car, not bike. (Besides that, her bike kinda got trashed just a few days ago.) It may be miserable outside, though on the inside of the blacked out Jaguar XKR it's an entirely different sort of miserable. Harsh, angry, Industrial sort of miserable. Domino's got the radio turned up enough to drown out all but the sound of the tires rushing through the brackish water and the throaty symphony of a supercharged V8, navigating her way through the city both via skill and luck to avoid most of the inner city congestion. She's got places to be and time is money, if it means driving more miles in order to get there more quickly then that's what she'll do.
Besides, driving doesn't -have- to be a chore. Wet roads and rear wheel drive means the traction control's going to take a vacation day. Unfortunately..it would seem that her social life is not taking the same day off. With a Bluetooth already hooked around an ear she taps the call through. Kurt might be disappointed to find out there's no catchy song tied to the number, she doesn't personalize things like that. It's the same generic ring for everything. She just recognizes the number.
"Stand by for transfer."
With a quick rev the Jag slides off of the street and drifts across a parking lot, another quick bump of the throttle kicking it around to neatly place it within an empty space. Engine off, rain falling onto roof, a quick hop out of the car and onto her feet, then she reads off the GPS latitude and longitude for her current location. "Clear for retrieval."
While she's straightforward on her end, more business like. Kurt simply converses on his end. Its nothing meaningful, honest. "Ya mom, I'll get a loaf of bread, quart of milk and a stick of butter," all while Domino is getting a good drift from the wet streets, sliding around a parking lot and jamming the car into a parking lot. "I won't be long, love you too."
He does a quick google map thing on the same phone he's using. He's not familiar with the city 100 percent just yet, but he's working on it, as much as DDomino probably knows she has to pick a spot he's close to knowing or knows. Learning from her though, aafter she says aclear for retrieval and he has the location in mind, he hangs up. Knowing not to keep the phone, but to be funny, he keeps it on and calls 411 to keep the automated voice talking on the phone.
He makes two ports to get to Domino, one to drop off the phone on the lap of a statue of Ronal McDonald he saw the other day, just in case, and the other to her location. Giving a couple seconds to fix on her specifically, he double ports again. One to her, his arm coming to her arm, the second to take them back to the place he calls home that isn't under his name. "Miss me," he questions with a grin as they land in the library with the balcony over the small indoor greenhouse. Its where the fire is going currently and some lights are on in that room.
If not CCTV, sorry Kurt, but SHIELD has access to satellite. The car Domino drives is known, and her little life-bits can easily be discovered, down to the details of what soap she showered with this morning. If they want to know, they will.
Clint is in a car, radio receiver in the ear. Behind and several blocks away, a radio truck is parked, agents in the back. Overkill, most likely. But really, this does have everything to do with the safety of Earth.
The moment contact is made with Domino, SHIELD knows about it. And the moment she's whisked away? Yup, they know about it too.
"She's been grabbed, 'Widow." Which is exactly what Clint, at least, figured would happen.
Not all safehouses have to be grungy little warehouses on the docks. They're great places to store extra hardware but they can get a little drafty. And full of roaches and mice. Domino went out of her way to find a 'middle ground' stop which they could both use, kept within the city proper. It's the sort of place where no one would likely expect to look for her. A bit of overall refinement, something which she's so often lacking.
"It hasn't been that long," she replies with as little commitment as she can manage. (Third rule of survival: Don't get attached to anyone.) With the change in environment the rain against the windows can easily be heard, sounding like a dull roar throughout the well lit enclosure. Running a hand through her hair a couple of times to shed rainwater from the spiky black locks, she looks back to Kurt and asks "What's on your mind, Fuzzy?"
Widow has her own earpiece in, sitting in the passenger side of Clint's car. She has a laptop settled on her lap with a USB satellite link for 'internet' as it were. In rows across the screen are various lines with shorthand names above them. The lines barely move, if at all. Ambient noise, nothing special.
When Domino is taken, Natasha carefully scrolls and refreshes through the links, checking each one to make sure they are still live. A couple that are farther, she lightly curses under her breath. "Damn weather."
Her earpiece is linked to the laptop so she can hear whatever feed she has selected, though there is also a USB to AUX plugged into the car's console to let the sound come over the car speakers. Much clearer than if it came from the laptop. It is a few minutes of clicking through ambient noise before one of the 'needles' as it were, jumps. "Gotcha."
Pulling that feed up, the conversation spilling out onto their speakers. Given the weather, she has to do some work at cleaning it up, so the first few comments are muddied, but the rest will be clear. Unless the storm gets much worse. (They never said weather and technology mix..)
"That's a dangeous question you know," grins Kurt, not bothering with any rain he picked up during the movement to the current location. "But our friend visited me, Agent Barton, with an Agent Romanov." He could go on, but interjects a side not, "Who is very friendly and knows a great place to get caramel apples mind you, but turns out … SHIELD agent. Why do I find myself around more SHIELD agents of late?"
Its entirely rhetorical however, his grin would tell that much, hopefully Domino knows it from grimace or snarl. Its all close, not that he growls or snorts at all, its honest smiles from the elf. "But, mission to space, they said you're working with them … and I'm not judging, I agreeed to help, I'll do what I can for them. But, and there's always a big butt mind you, you're not going to pull out a SHIELD badge on me, cause I've invited others into my life that probably don't need that kind of heat …"
Clint is actually on the ground… in a car! Go figure! He's watching the street as if he'll catch the cloud in the rain of the teleportion sound? Not likely. But, on a good note, he has coffee. In a box. In the back seat of the car.
"'Caramel apples?'" Brows rise and Clint smirks as he does a half turn of his head, teasing her. "Sweet tooth." Beat. "The place on 8th?"
Everything comes full circle in the end. The only problem here is that Dom's pretty certain the situation's far from any sort of 'end.' This full circle approach is way ahead of schedule. Leave it to SHIELD to mess up her timeframe.
At first she says nothing, turning to look at the Blue Dude as he says all which he wants to say. She's not going to risk playing her own hand too early in the game. She's still figuring out what the game -is,- for that matter.
"I told you that it would be risky hanging around me," she reminds Kurt. "Yeah, an actual space gig. Figured the bar could handle being raised a few dozen notches." Though she'll quietly 'forget' to mention that she had been coerced into helping them out. The part about her secretly having a badge of her own is just funny, though she still chooses to give him a blank stare. "No badge. They might prefer if I did, which is part of the problem. I just didn't have the heart to turn down their request for help. I'm such a big damn hero."
"Your the one with the sweet tooth." Only reason she'd even know about it. Though she smirks a little, "Where else?" Natasha leans an elbow on the middle console as she settles in to listen since the signal is cleared up. "If he's worried about 'heat' on those he's affiliated with, then he either has the wrong idea about us, or he associates with my kind of people." Which generally means: The wrong sorts. She's an Assassin with nearly 7 decades of that under her belt alone- she has plenty of 'the wrong sort' in her laundry list of contacts.
Natasha snorts faintly, "I couldn't ever see her taking orders from anyone." Her hand dangles between them off the console, fingertips idly playing with the USB to AUX cord.
Oddly enough, there are other assassins in the world with decades of help, not that they'd know he's also befriending another now who's played agent for various groups and governments. Friendly Kurt is, doesn't mean he just says everything that is on the table either. Doesn't need their similar experience for that, he has his own on the global enterprises scale and working with other global entities in a purely business/financial setting. Cutthroat in its own way perhaps.
"Your risk, I assumed was guns and bullets secondary to whoever's out to get you, my bargain was I'd like to keep you safe, you sort of seem to grow on me." He grins, even if she doesn't keep anyone close, doesn't mean he can't be friendly all the same. "Me the CEO, its public, I'm not hiding, don't want to hide. I have other things that no one needs to know. Not just the help I'm looking at with retreiving what was stolen from my enterprise, or what we do for similar businesses in need of such help. I just need to make sure things will stay safe and I won't be visited by SHIELD agents at random, I'll help them, I need to make sure they're not watching eveything I do."
"It's the best place. But if you take a mark to my secret chestnut guy?" The one that roasts out on 32nd, "I'm going to have to do some serious thinking about us." Clint is teasing, of course.
Reaching his hand over, Clint touches hers briefly to get her attention. "Another cup of coffee before we pay the lovebirds a visit?" Oh, that'd go over well!
"Yeah, I know those sorts too." While he doesn't have quite the past either Domino or 'Tash does, he has racked up his own problems. A fact of which Black Widow can attest. "The guy is blue and has a tail. CEO. Unless he gets something that'll change his appearance, he's going to be front page everywhere, and he's gonna attract attention." The fact that he's attracted the attention of the 'good guys' means that at least SHIELD is willing to step up and help. For a price? Maybe. Maybe not.
"He makes the best candied pecans. I'd prefer to keep him a dirty secret." Natasha's lips quirk at the corner. Her hand turns over lightly to brush her fingertips against his palm in return, her eyes watching the line jump and bounce as it follows the sound. Of course, all of this is being recorded, as well. "Why not. Though we may want to pull closer." She pulls up (yes, with one hand), a general map of the area with a red ping where the active feed is coming from.
"He already is. And the fact he's worried about us watching him generally means a guilty party." Natasha tilts her gaze over to him. "Want to bet he's been given the wrong idea about us?" Is she actually being optimistic?
Here Domino holds her hands up in the air at her sides, asking "What do you want me to do? I don't want them getting involved with my life either. They're like the inner city roach, if you exist they will find you, and it's a bitch and a half trying to remove them once they've found something to bite into."
"If you want to protect your own image then I suggest having a sit-down with them to work out the particulars, a negotiation where you get something that you want out of it is a best case scenario. If you continue to operate with me then you're going to have to get used to this. If not the Division then an angry mob, or a hitman, or a well-armed shadow from the past."
"Right now I'd suggest using your current spike in popularity to your advantage, turn it into a publicity stunt. 'The CEO of Wagner Enterprises, risking it all to help save the world," she mock-announces with a flourish of a half-gloved hand. "I hear people love that shit."
"Then you're pal Barton would want to help me floss, with an arrow," returns Kurt to the idea, as fun as it would be. "And I gave him my word already, I'd help. I'm in full circle, but they breed mistrust by not trusting anyone it seems." He pause, unless he requeste a Charles favor for reassigning everyone's memory, so they'd forget about him. His eyes light up for a brief second, alas, Kurt couldn't do that to someone, Charles wouldn't be in for ot either.
"I don't think my public image will change, I'm not worried about protecting myself, I'm protecting my friends. You're saying, if I just ask them to stop keeping an eye on me, give them my direct phone number, I won't have surprise visits while enjoying a sit down in my favorite cofffe spots?"
Barton nods at the suggestion, and shifting the car into drive with his left hand crossing over, he steers easily into traffic, moving the one block, two blocks, and parks again.
Now, he turns the key, and pulls it, dropping it into a pocket.
"Tell me when to move, oh op lead," Clint teases. "Or after this box of coffee is killed?" He's more of the opinion, honestly, that the move was just so they don't have quite that far to walk- which is more than okay for him!
"You know, give the guy the facts and he acts like we were lying to him. I wonder what would happen if we lied to him, told him what he wanted to hear. Think he'd believe us?"
[OOC] Nightcrawler says, "I think I'm confusing everyone, Kurt believe in the Mongo Mission and is full in - he's protecting Xaviers and a few other mercs he knows, non related to the mongo stuff?"
"Probably." Natasha drawls with a faint shake of her head. She gives him a more curt sidelong look at the teasing. "I'll make you pay for that later."
She closes the laptop, lifting a hand to check the earbud in her ear. Laptop set aside, she tugs her jacket a little more around. "Lets get this over with." In a single swift movement, she is out into the rain and converging on the door to Domino's little hideout.
Of course, she has a set of lockpicks in hand, and a keypad reader on her phone. She's aiming to quietly slip in so that they can surprise them. Yes, she's wanting Kurt to jump and wanting him to know that they are just that damn good.
Of course.. they aren't just any agents. They are Hawkeye and Black Widow.
"They're probably keeping close tabs on you because of me," Domino concludes. If you want them to leave you alone then go back to your previous life and quit associating with these 'evil murderous sorts.' I can't help you here, I can't even help my own damn self."
Though she could see flossing with an arrow, which is also funny.
"Would it help if you knew that I don't trust anyone, either?" she asks in all seriousness, one brow hooked slightly upward. "The difference is that they're like any other Government spook. I'm just a thug." She pauses momentarily before adding "I'm also in need of a drink."
Fortunately she knows just where to go looking for such a thing, too! To the kitchen the albino goes, though now it's quite possible that the local party of two is now a separate group of ones.
The moment Nat takes the door, Clint is on the other side. There is always more than one way into a building, and he knows where it is. The fire escape is climbed; no need to pull the ladder down, Hawkeye will jump and pull himself up. Once on the landing, it's easy enough, though the moment Domino moves to the kitchen, Clint flattens against the outside wall.
"Domino's in the kitchen," Clint says softly. "Can't see the blue guy."
"I'm a fan of international law because of government spooks. I tend to find that thugs, when you listen, tend to be more real on the surface at least. Truth, no truth, they'll at least tell you they're going to punch you before they do it." He shrugs not following her to the kitchen. "If its because of you, they've yet to ask. If you're wondering, I wouldn't offer anything. Not that I have anything really, but if I did."
Giving a few moments silence, in which he could bamf, he finally enters the Kitchen then. Looking for a seat maybe as he follows her finaly, "I'm proud of who I am, I'd like people to see me, the blue devil that I am. Take it or leave it, I just don't want to end up feeling like I'll need to act like other metahumans at some point, putting on a people mask to look like a regular guy and have a disguise or something to protect my friends is all."
"I'm in." It doesn't take Natasha long to break her way in, tucking away the lockpick set back into her jacket pocket. She's dressed actually, jeans, t-shirt, soft soled boots and a light jacket. Knives hidden, though this time she is packing heat; a .380 Bersa tucked in a holster against her side under the jacket. Never can be too careful.
She steps silent, moving slow and careful to take note of where the voices are. When Kurt moves further into the kitchen, Natasha goes to inspect the windows on the far side where Barton is. Carefully flicking a lock, she tilts it open slowly. "Two down." She murmurs lightly to indicate his way in before she steps to the shadows to wait for him.
After all, it'll be much more impressive and effective if they are both just suddenly standing there out of no where, won't it?
"Go right ahead. Anything you've got on me they've probably got for themselves."
Once in the kitchen Domino goes straight for the booze lurking within one of the raised cupboards, the motion almost comically greeted with the -Whump- of thunder which causes the building to shiver in response. It's nice that she didn't have to walk out in this weather, though if she's -really- lucky she'll get a bamf back to her Jag before the night is through. Or after the storm passes. Just being out in the rain for a little while means she's been leaving a small river in her wake, though the black leather trenchcoat helps keep her warm. More or less. And her gear dry.
Now she's got a tile floor under feet, the squeaking of her boots reminding her that it's safe to shed the heavy coat and toss it over the back of a chair where it can safely leave a pool on the floor. -Then- she'll twist open the bottle. Spiced rum, good stuff.
The BATFE would probably shit bricks about now, taking a long drink right from the bottle with four holstered sidearms blatantly strapped about her person. She loves being herself, she really does.
"Really, you think some guy with a bad attitude's gonna -tell- you before he takes a swing at you? Get into more bar fights, kiddo. If you're real good at reading body language then I suppose they might tell you, but it's not really the same thing." Rolling her shoulders with a slight wince, she says "You're blue and proud, congratulations. If you're an obvious meta then you may as well use that to your advantage. There is something to be said about going incognito, though."
'Two down.' Directions are answered with a nod and a soft repeat, "'Two down'" before he moves to the location. Down, and under the escape, hand over hand before he pulls himself back up and onto a smaller ledge. Then, it's a slow move to the window in question. The moment the window is tilted, Clint slides in carefully, taking care of latching the window after him.
Straightening his dark jacket, Barton mouths to 'Widow, 'How do I look?', as if preparing for a meeting or an audition.
Really?
Though now, just for effect, Clint digs into his inside jacket pocket and takes out his sunglasses.
There.
Listening as she takes a drink, Kurt shrugs, "Random bad attitude is one thing, but I'll have more warning signs he's angry, or if I go to a dive bar, I know what to expect is what I'm getting at. Sure, a thug can blindside me, anyone can. Just around thugs, I tend to know what I'm risking, different with governments and politics is what I meant."
He pauses, he doesn't want to argue with Domino, he's putting a lot of trust in her as it is. "Put the shoe on the other foot, I already mentioned I know others who might not like to know I'm being followed. Like that day with my brothers, and Blackout, I had no idea he was keeping tabs on me until he showed up like that. What if I had someone following me to you, who didn't know where you were. Assume not SHIELD, but someone else anyone else. I'm actually saying this as the basis for making things more safe for being ingocnito, even with me, you know I'm high profile, what can I do to help you, or my other friends. I should of asked, I came at it all wrong Domino, I'm sorry for my lack of tact …"
When Clint joins her in the shadows, she smirks faintly and quietly signs, 'Sexy'. Though as soon as he puts those sunglasses on, she gives a roll of her eyes, lifting a hand to put a palm to forehead. Yes. Facepalm. She signs, mouthing with it silently: 'You can be so cliche sometimes.'
She quietly gestures towards the kitchen where the other two are, and if all goes right; it'll be like Clint and Natasha have does this a thousand times. Which… really, they've done it a number of times. Screwing with people when they can? Why not?
The Widow leans against the doorframe of the kitchen, folding her arms against her chest, arching a slender eyebrow at Domino. "Going to save some of that for me, love?"
"You realize, Kurt, if we have an issue with you, you will know it. But if you make it a point to be so paranoid about people who are actually trying to help, how is that really going to help anything?"
Here Dom pauses and considers Kurt's words, ultimately dipping her head once with "Fair enough." Now she understands what he's getting at. And then..he's…
Odds of being apologized to by two completely different people in the same week: 1 in 59,250.
The bottle drops down onto the table but she keeps her hand firmly upon the glass, turning to stare back at his solid yellow eyes for a moment.
It's also at this moment that she catches movement in her peripheral vision. (Knew I shoulda read my horoscope today…)
"And this is why people get paranoid," she flatly points out to the two Divisionites. Black fingernails drum across the side of the glass once before she relinquishes her hold of it, taking a step away from the table juuust in case she needs to make any sudden movements, in any random direction.
"Just like roaches," she quietly asides back to Kurt before asking "What the -hell- are you two doing here?" (And give me one very compelling reason why I shouldn't draw steel first. Preferably two.)
A lopsided grin is the only response that 'Tash gets before he steps forward and leans upon the wall, arms crossed in front of him. He doesn't have his bow and arrows, but perhaps there's a hint of a shoulder-holster beneath the jacket.
"I know tons of bad guys that'll look at you dead in the face, laugh, then stab you in the gut for nothing more than you drove the wrong car."
Sunglass-covered eyes rise towards Kurt, and Clint smiles tightly. "Welcome to our life, Wagner. You think the paparazzi is bad? 'They' are worse," Barton doesn't move from his lean, doesn't pull his hands from their position in front of his chest. Any hint of humour is gone, erased from his expression.
"I am telling you the truth."
Kurt is about to say more, he's chatty, can't leave well enough alone and he's sure Domino hasn't smiled yet tonight, so he has to say something. Something funny, something witty, something about her wanting that cat, over a Bamf (the imp sort). Raising a hand even, his thoughts are invaded.
Turning to look, he is about to point, but then thumbs over to Domino. What she said, exactly why paranoid. "I trust you guys and myself, but I was in Genosha, I've seen what too much intelligence in the wrong hands can do to people like me. I don't doubt you Agent Barton, I don't think I've suggested that to anyone?" He's not sure what Clint thinks he is suggesting was a lie even, blank look. Then to Natasha, "I was just telling Domino here, I'm not worried about myself, I have friends I'm trying to protect. You've heard about Project: Rebirth maybe? What, were you guys like following us or something?" He says, paranoia coming back, "Can we just go back to being coffee friends and having roasted pecans, when all this was less complicated?"
"Part of our nature." Natasha's arms remain crossed against her chest. A casual posture, but one she can easily draw from if absolutely necessary. "You may not like what we do, or agree with it, but we are the people that do the dirty work that keeps everyone else safe. If you think thugs and back alley deals are bad? Trying dealing with what we face on a daily basis."
But, she won't go into much more detail. Her gaze settles on Domino, unwavering and solid: "We have new intel."
To Kurt: "Intelligence is what we live for. If we want to find someone, we can." Though she does finally crack somewhat of a smile, even if it doesn't fully reach her eyes. "You should give us a bit more credit. We aim to protect. If your 'friends' aren't a threat to society then they have nothing to fear from us. If that status changes, all bets are off."
As far as less complicated, her smile warms a touch: "Doesn't have to be complicated."
"The guy in the doorway with no sense of personal space or privacy is right," Domino agrees with Barton before she looks at the archer with a flat-but-irked expression. "You're not fooling anyone, Barton," she says in response to his sunglasses. "'Joe Cool' died a quiet death back in the eighties, let the twit rest in peace."
"Being Burger Buddies did make things a lot easier," she agrees with Kurt's sentiment. But..new intel. Widow has her attention, though the next question the albino choosed to voice is "Why not give me a call? I'm not a big fan of unexpected company. The fridge only has leftovers and I haven't dusted in weeks."
All the same, she motions to the table where the already open bottle of rum patiently waits. She'll even grab a couple of glasses to slide about. And a few other bottles. Including vodka.
You're welcome.
"Information is power. See, you get that. I get that. I'm not happy unless I have enough information in order to make a decision." Clint doesn't move from his spot, however. "If we didn't have information on all of that, and the bad guys did, we wouldn't be able to help them, now, would we?"
Still, Clint's not in the mood to argue, he isn't. Honest. Though finally, Domino manages to get him to crack a smile- okay, a smirk with her comments towards him. Now, his hands gesture towards his face, "What? Dark.. sunglasses.. that whole thing doesn't work?" He sounds theatrically disappointed, but he removes the sunglasses anyway, now standing straight from his lean.
"We just wanted to see how the other half slum— er… live." Though, the offer of alcohol? Dammit.
"Relax, Wagner. And no. No more roasted pecans. Not even with the little sugar and cinnamon on them."
"Okay, but just for the record, showing up at random like this doesn't make me feel better," Kurt offers, holding up a hand in resignation, "And I like you all, other than me being all sweet and you were probably just trying to get something from me. I do like apples, and having fun."
Then he shakes his head, "All but you, your too serious too much, its kinda of scary and unsettling. I'll drop the topic cause I can see I can't win. Did you need me for this new intel, or should I just go out in a blaze of smoke to mind my own busienss?" Though there is alcohol on the table and she's offering, he'll try to get a glass of vodka, even if he should go.
Alochol is an offer that Natasha can live with. Plus, Dom has vodka. And somehow… even if strangely, the two seem to get along well enough. "Its a horrible cliche' Clint." She mutters over her shoulder as far as the sunglasses go.
She pushes off the doorframe to move further into the room, claiming the bottle of vodka and one of the glasses, hovering by a chair but doesn't yet sit. Pouring a couple of fingers, she leaves the bottle on the table, the weight of her gaze finding Kurt.
"Your part of the op, unless your backing out. If your on the team, have a seat." She'll even pour a couple of fingers of vodka and slide the glass to pause by the seat closest to Kurt.
"The cinnamon ones are the best," Domino replies out of the blue. (Did someone call on the peanut gallery?) Though, here she actually goes to bat for the Division. Somewhat. "They really are the good guys, Bamfus. My problem with them is that they make life difficult for us morally grey sorts."
Grabbing the back of a chair and spinning it around to sit in it backwards, she continues with "'Good' in the sense that personal rights are completely forfeit if it involves the safety of the many. Privacy's a long-forgotten footnote. But, I get that." She can't bitch -too- much, having interrogated and killed lesser folk to get at the main slice plenty of times before.
Next she's arching a brow in Kurt's direction. "Aren't you throwing down with these kids, too?" Then Widow confirms it. "This obviously isn't all that classified or they wouldn't be telling me any of it." And -again- Widow's thoughts are right on par with the albino's. "Park your fuzzy blue tuckus and enjoy your poison. Let's get to some mission details before I go back to bitching about unwarranted breaking and entering."
Clint sighs and the sunglasses are tucked away into an inside pocket. He doesn't move from his spot, however, even while the three are sitting down at the table. This is her go, and, well, he's driving. As 'Tash goes to sit down in the chair, he mutters just a little nothing in response to her teasing in return. All in fun.
"You're not getting any either, Domino." Is there a hint of petulance? No, couldn't be.
Clint exhales and checks the small safehouse. "Write it in a report," the whole B&E thing. "They'll ask why we didn't bring a whole team with us to batter down the door." He whistles softly, "Boy, won't we get in trouble them." Sarcasm.
Hopefully the glass is head, even if he uses his tail to get a bottle and pour it for himself. "Okay, color me ignorant for a second," says Kurt swirling the glass with same said tell, half full of vodka. "Aside from my having a friendly chat about SHIELD and you mysteriously showing up, by breaking into Domino's place here to say I have no reason to be paranoid. Pretend I don't know what we're all talking about." Only cause, in his mind, Mongo was a brief discussion point to get into how much is SHIELD going to follow him and potentially see some of his friends.
Then it dawns on him, as he takes a drink, then chokes it a moment, coughing. He can take his alcohol, but it doesn't look that way as it dawns on him. "What, this is about Mongo, you weren't following, you were like spying on us the whole time?!"
Heh. Morally grey. "Only because some of us walk that line just as much." Natasha quips with a faint curve at the corner of her lips.
As odd as it may be, for those few moments, she and Domino seem to be on a co-existing wavelength. Maybe they'll make a odd sort of friends yet.
Natasha settles in a chair to Domino's side, but in a position where Clint is across from her. So they can watch each other's backs, as it were. Taking a sip of her vodka, she gives it a brief consideration before she takes a deeper drink and leaves the glass on the table.
She tilts a faint grin at Clint, though dark green eyes rest fully on Kurt as he has his.. moment. "Look. First? Get over yourself. If we want intel, we get it. Yes, we are SHIELD Agents, and we dropped in unannounced. Do you not see us sitting down to have a drink? We're not here as enemies. Now swallow your pair back down, have a seat, another drink, and lets get to business." Yes, she says that completely deadpan, but with that cool emotionlessness that the Widow is far more known for. The calm before the storm.
When it's made clear that she won't be getting any, Dom takes the removed cap from one of the bottles and flings it at Clint's chest. "Filling out meaningless paperwork is your job," she bluntly counters hiss suggestion. "Besides, I would just hate to take away your sense of satisfaction."
Kurt's sudden sputtering bout earns a smirk from her end. "Told you." Lack of privacy and boundaries, having unwanted shadows, bad idea to hang out with her, yadda yadda. "Smile, Fuzznut. We're officially important enough to have two of SHIELD's finest blindly following us around the tri-city area. Say - how many snipers, exactly, do you guys have trained on us right now?"
It could be zero. In fact, it's probably zero. This doesn't mean she can't still give them a hard time about it.
Then there's Red's contribution. Confession, really. She's now got Dom's attention, yet again. "Aside from breaking into my place, I assume." Widow might..actually understand where the merc is coming from…
She's also got the twisted sense of humor which can be related to. A soft chuckle follows Widow's retaliation, to which Dom suggests "You may want to do as Red says." Getting right down to business, something which she appreciates.
"So. Mongoians. Have you guys found something for me to kill yet?"
Clint catches the cap, and does a left-handed toss back to the table, setting it to land in three hops right into the center of the table. That's control, right there!
Brows rise at Kurt's outburst, but now he says nothing. There's no need. At least not in response to the fuzzy blue guy. 'Tash said it all, and Domino virtually seconded her.
Clint can't resist answering Domino's question, however, and those blue eyes train on the albino's own. "One." It's so deadpanned, though perhaps there's a touch of a gleam in his eyes as he gives her an answer. Is he lying? Telling the truth?
Kurk mentally takes out a pin, puts it on this conversation for later and puts it aside. No point arguing at this point, as they'll be defensive even more. Like if someone called him red and he tries to say he was blue, he knows he's blue even if the other person's vision is skewed to see him as red. So he takes a drink, "I already said I'm in. I promised my abilities to you, you said its to save Earth, we all live on it, I'm not an idiot."
"And give me some benefit of the doubt, you both know if I wasn't comfortable, I would of been 40 miles away by now in some random direction." Or a few if he was actually tailed, he's stayed the whole time, trusting them. He has nothing to hide, especially as a threat to society as a whole.
As things calm down and settle, Natasha glances to each in turn, though Clint last. Reaching for the bottle, she refills her own glass before tipping it in a manner to offer to refill Kurt's if he wishes. Either way, if she does or not, it is set aside and capped after.
"There is intel on a Prince Barin and those of his Kingdom. Some, at least. He is a possible candidate as a replacement once we unsurp the current tyrant, though once there, we will need to do some proper digging into the actual character of the man."
Her gaze lifts to Clint a moment, more or less reiterating some of what he said at the intel meeting: "We don't want to have to do this twice, nor do we want to end up putting someone even worse in the seat we just vacated. On the surface he seems a likely choice, but you know politicians."
She takes a sip of her vodka, letting that bit settle in for now at least.
And there's the cap, clinking merrily across the table. Right into the center. (Lucky shot.)
'One.' "And this is why he hangs out by the door," Domino explains to Kurt while thumbing over to Barton. She knows the building well. She knows what the neighboring vantage points are, and how difficult it can be to see inside from most of them. Just one sniper on a nearby rooftop could not cover the entire building, let alone one teleporter and one very lucky girl.
Then again, she's also assuming off the shelf hardware and not something like a railgun with an x-ray scope.
"Ah hell, is this going to turn into a political clusterf-it's turning political," she grumbles while snagging the bottle of rum (and a glass this time!) to renew hammering spirits upon her crushed spirit. "Let me just remind you Divisionites that I'm only here to sneak about and shoot at things. I've got no patience for watching which side of the handshake is closer to the camera."
Kurt's tail was glad for Widow pouring him some more drink. "So, we go help this Prince become the king or something, get rid of the current King, and earth is safe?" He doesn't know about Ming, he just knew they needed help with Mongo, some planet coming towards earth, hucking meteors at it and apparently sending down a few golden armored goons along the way.
"Does it have to be a big fight? Or does he have enough support, that we drop in, say Hello to the Prince, we're here to help and I bamf the Arrow-nazi into the King's bed chamber and he does some arrow trick, like shooting him in the heart." Not that its much of a trick, that's just shooting someone, nothing fancy to it. "And I'll be damned," he's not, he's not the angry sort, even when worried about some of his friends and the 'spying to protect' people. "If we don't get a pecan pie when we get back here, I'll be furher-ious." He grins, at Domino, going with a German joke and bad leaders schtick.
Natasha smirks a little at Domino, though tilts a finger at Kurt. "Exactly." She takes a sip of her vodka. She does enjoy her vodka even if it doesn't actually do anything to her.
"The endgame goal here is to unsurp the current leader and replace him. Thus stopping their invasion and attacks upon us and letting them lead their planet in a new direction- far from us."
She smirks a little, "If it were that easy, Kurt, I'd use my own skills and do it myself." Though Kurt doesn't really know what her callsign is, does he? What her speciality is?
"We have to stage a rebellion, and we have some detailed intel on their disposition of forces, training, technology and weapons. However consider, the entire time we are there, that the entire planet is a hot LZ. Once we're there, we likely aren't getting out until this is done, or your dead."
There's an audible -smak- as Domino's forehead drops and connects with an open palm, thanks to Kurt's spot of humor. Here's a joke which is so bad it manages to cover what would have been surprise in hearing the blue one suggesting the idea of an outright assassination, as if it's no bigger deal than picking up a gallon of milk.
"That's..more or less what I would have suggested." Oh, but this might actually be getting more interesting… Lifting up her head to peer at Widow, she asks "Do we get to start a riot?" with a hopeful note in her voice. (I could finally mark that one off my bucketlist!)
Being stuck on an entirely different planet, in an endless hot zone. Huh. Well, it'll be a new experience at least. "And we're doing it all as covertly as possible. I'm suddenly sensing a lot of missions in which we're being tasked with planting incriminating evidence in someone's palace."
Though, at a time like this? It's kinda neat to think that she's got both SHIELD and a teleporter out there who will be actively watching out for her safety. How very fortunate.
"We have to do the rebellion and riot, my plan is the one in favor of the many. I mean, is this Prince stable enough as the next likely candidate militarily that once the king is dead, the power vacum favors him as the victor with less bloodshed then outright open rebellion that could takes months, if its like the Boleshiviks, or years, like, all the rebellions in our time."
For not being militant himself, he doesn't know history enough, but political science is what he has a doctorate in, he understands civil unrest with matters like these. Kurt is still enjoying his drink. "Cover is my middle name, in my imagination," Kurt says to Domino, "And we need to be more clear on our terms, it must be homemade pecan pie, with some fresh whipped cream. Not that stuff in a carton, like heavy cream, then whipped, but whipped from scratch. And some black forest blackberries. Like mom used to make." He shakes his head, more quietly to Domino, "No, I never knew here, but if I imagined her, she made awesome blackberry pies."
Widow really doesn't like repeating herself, especially when it comes to mission briefings. "Like I said earlier.." Though there is a distinct cool note to her tone. "He is a candidate. He is the only one we've come into amiable contact with, but we will do research into his character when we actually get there before I make that decision."
And yes, She said 'I'. Widow was named Op Leader on this one, so good choice, bad choice or they all get FUBAR, its on her shoulders. And she has to deal with the consequences if she makes a bad call.
To Domino, amusement crosses her features. "Rebellion, though situation depending, we may just need a riot at some point as a distraction." She sips at her vodka, lifting a finger, smirking, "But. Don't get your hopes up. Possibility. Not certainty."
Alright, now Domino knows who the CO is for this op. Oddly enough she feels better knowing that it's Widow and not Barton over there in the doorway. Ol' Red here's proven her strength, in a most literal sense. With any luck her leadership skills will follow the trend which her strong-arming had started.
"A lady always needs something to aim for," she replies to Widow with a similar look of amusement. "Not that I've seen any ladies around here tonight, I just wanna royally wreck something."
It would also help stave off potential boredom while the Division sorts out matters with potential leadership. Though, here she sarcastically holds up an open palm from the table and says "I have a question. What happens if this other guy's not up to snuff, do we have a Plan C? Or anything after that? Seems to me like we're shaving our chances awfully thin here."
Alas, the brought in the chatty elf who will take orders when under duress and in the field, but who is also currently the CEO of a large entity and use to having some control, but he probably has a more open board room for conversations and he's exercising his conversational rights to make sure he's on board with the mission and knows what's happening. Not to be a pest, but not to be a mindless soldier either.
Kurt nods, that's a valid question, "And also assume, if our questions sound stupid, we might not have all the same intel you have, so in a manner, we are stupid to the situation." In fact, this conversation is the only intel they have, and he will go with them for what its worth. "I'm just trying to figure out if this is a week, a month, a few years." Because he might need to let someone know he's gonna be gone, Barton only said not to tell them about the mission to avoid fanfare cause of his public image, but he can't just disappear from that image.
At the mention of lack of ladies, Natasha smirks. "I'll concede, I'm not in a dress." She has no problem switching from light playful banter and back to business, back and forth. Helps at least keep things light and interesting even while dealing with the more grueling details.
"Withholding intel on something like this will get us all killed. Don't insult me." Nat tilts to Kurt. "I've been at this game longer than you've been alive."
Though the time duration? "Honestly? I can't give a definitive answer. If we're lucky? A week or two, maybe? Unlucky and it proves to be a lot more complicated and drawn out? It could be months. I'm wanting to do this as quickly as we can; as the longer it takes us, the more they attack us here."
Back to Domino: "There are other Kingdoms. When we land, we will need to draw dossiers on the other rulers. We don't even know if Barin is actually our best choice; he's just the best idea at the moment from what we've seen so far, but we won't have the full picture until we get there. If he turns out to be tart; hopefully we find out before we leave so I can personally cut out his throat for wasting my time." She smiles thinly.
"We don't know how long it's going to be," Domino answers Kurt with a touch of irritation in her own voice. "Think less 'field trip' and more 'suicide mission.' We're stuck out there until either the situation gets resolved in a matter which is satisfactory to SHIELD or we all wind up dead. If you're on board with this then you need to commit, unless you somehow find a way to teleport between planets, in which case you have an unfair advantage and I hate you."
Not really. Probably.
"So we get to do some soul-searching while we're visiting sunny Mongo and try to find our Chosen One. Is this a good time for me to say 'I've got a bad feeling about this drop?'" she asks before helping herself to another long drink. "I just don't know if I can keep myself from blowing something up for as long as this is going to take."
She's joking. Probably.
Holding up his hands, Kurt says, "I'm not trying to insult anyone, and rest assured, you're not the first cute lady I've met that looks younger than me but is far older. I already said I trust you, with my life. I'm not a spy, or a soldier, or a fighter. I say what I mean." Until recently at least. He does offer a grin to Domino though, "I thought you hated me anyways, alas, no teleporting between planets to earn more of your ire."
Taking another drink via tail lift of his glass he looks at Widow. "I'm honestly wanting to help here. Just I'm not the mindless automaton, or a soldier, who's going to teleport you every where I'm told without understanding what's going on and why. If me being curious isn't gonna work out, then perhaps I'm not suited for the mission?"
"That would've honestly been useful." Natasha chuckles as far as the teleporting between planets. "More or less." She chimes to Domino. "If you get too trigger happy, I'll just tie you to a bed in one of the huts." While it may be hard to read if she'll actually do that or not, the more playful, dark smile just adds to the question.
"Curiousity is fine, but when it comes down to it, if I give an order, I mean it. And if you can't follow it that moment and trust me- then no, it won't work. I'm not looking to get anyone killed, and there might be some difficult calls, and there will be times that I either can't, or don't have time to explain why. Can you deal with that in the field?"
"He's got me there," Domino flatly jokes with Natasha when her hatred toward the guy is called to play. Supporting Kurt's words, she says "Curious like a damn cat. Bring an extra laser pointer."
Red's threat (or is it a promise..?) results in one of the albino's arms to unfold and -slap- down across the table, staring at her with -such- a look. "Must we have this discussion in front of the boys?"
Right back to business, with a slight nod from her as she reaches back for her glass. "Or, absolute worst case scenario, assure everyone that you can follow -someone's- instruction. It could get real ugly out there, Bamfus. Like 'murdering women and children' bad. We only know so much about any of these guys and their various practices. We may have to respond on their level."
"I can take orders in the field, I have done it, and will, I've said it, I'm in. I'm just trying to explain why I'm being openly conversational now with questions." Putting the drink down with his tail, he looks at Domino, "I'm not going to kill women and children, I agreed to help infiltrate and teleport to assure the threat to earth is removed. I'm assuming others are being asked to join as the guns of this plot."
Pushing the glass around a moment, Kurt pursues his lips. "I find I've grown sad, the Natasha I met that seemed genuine, interested in pecans, had a great smile, and was friendly and helpful, has been replaced by Agent Romanov, and I fear I will never know if her emotions are real or but a mask going forward. I'll not question you anymore, my apologies."
"Briefings are a place for questions, Kurt." As far as disappointing? She doesn't seem bothered. She projects exactly what she wants people to see. Each alias a mask that she can slip into as needed, even changing throughout a conversation. The real actual Natasha rarely is shown to any except those in her very close circle.
She takes up the vodka bottle again, refilling her own, and again offers to refill Kurt's. She is still polite. If he takes it or not, she will set the bottle aside again after.
Though that look from Domino and that pointed comment draws a quirk at the corner of her lips. "Sorry, love." She takes a drink of the vodka to bite back further comment.
"Latest intel also shows that the planet is currently in the vicinity of Jupiter."
With the apology Domino dips her head in acknowledgement, very nearly losing her stoic presentation in favor of a grin. "Thanks, sweetie." This is fun, really it is. Red can be damn entertaining.
Without warning there's a snap of ghostly white fingers, a smirk slowly returning to Dom's face once more. "Natasha Romanov." (And thank you, Kurt.) "Always nice to know who's threatening me if I misbehave." Before now all she had to call the other woman by had been 'Widow' and 'Red.' Of course, it might be a fake name. But, it's a -name.-
Progress!
"These guys aren't looking to build lasting friendships, Wagner. We're mission assets." Jupi-"-Jupiter!-" she suddenly repeats, nearly with a spray of rum as the word falls into place within her thoughts. "How the hell long is it going to take us just to get there? Gees Red, right when I start to think Q and A time is over with you go and drop -that- bombshell on us."
Having a proper name doesn't mean she's going to feel inclined to use it in favor of her own nicknames anytime soon.
"I agree, you said I was insulting you with my curiousity," Kurt points out for Widow, forgoing any more drinks currently. Giving a moment for Domino's discovery, perhaps, he considers what is going on with the mission at hand. Blinking at Domino also revealing their only assets, "The business world is adapting to the creative revolution of late, you know the MFA is the new MBA, assets are people with feelings. Jupiter it is, how soon do you need me?"
His tail leaves the glass, half empty or full, no furtehr refills from the bottle, his tail slides behind him, matching his demeanor.
"No. I said you were insulting me by insuating I would withhold intel from my team. It may be need to know, but I will make sure you know enough to survive and get the job done."
Natasha drains the rest of her vodka, setting the glass on the table and nudging it forward with her fingertips to signal that she is done. And yes, while Natasha Romanov/Romanoff is a common alias, it is only one of so very many. A ghost name like any others. "There is someone that we have that will teleport us there. Though once there, her able to get us back in a pinch is why we can't rely on a quick evac."
She rises from her chair, stepping around the table to cross behind Domino and not Kurt, warm fingertips grazing the back of the other woman's shoulder briefly as she ghosts by. "We are getting closer to go time. Preferably within the week, but I do still need to have a sit down with our 'transport' for a definitive answer to finalize."
Heading to the door where Barton has been standing quiet and vigilant, she glances over her shoulder. "I will let you know when we know for certain. Sooner the better, so be prepared to leave any day now. If any new intel crops up between now and then, you will be informed. I may even call ahead this time."
"Cool, then we're all on board," Domino concludes before draining the last of her glass then sliding the empty vessel aside.
A moment later and a shiver rolls through her spine, hesitating abruptly to turn around and watch the now departing Russian.
With a hint of a glint in the albino's eyes.
"And some of us know what we're fighting for," she quietly remarks to no one in particular before gently clearing her throat. Then, speaking softly and sidelong to Kurt, "I think she might like me or something."
This calls for more rum-wait..note? Under the table note passing! Boy, this is getting to be all sorts of covert around here. She'll have to catch up with Kurt later. Somewhere a little more secure, perhaps.
"Um. Hey. Do you remember where I parked?" r
"Thanks Agents, a pleasure as always, as I'm learning," returns Kurt, waving, not smiling, and under his breath to Domino, and maybe the bug if its close, "Said the captive to the Gustapo." He won't say much after that but will ask for pen in paper with hand gesures, it can be done with three fingers on each hand. He knows how poker players can hide cards, he'll cover mostly what he writes so even Domino can't look over his shoulder to read it, flip it, slide it to her to read. It is simple, 'Need to talk, when no one else is listening or following.' And that is it, he assumes if anyone might be able to find such a place it would be her and if she doesn't think a real place is, she'll tell him as much in some way.
"Ya, you're all around lovable, you and her, BFFs," he says aloud, taking the paper with them if she doesn't, "Ya, I remember want your car back, we can go get it now that this night is blown." If she comes along, he takes her back to car, otherwise he goes whence he came.
