2009-03-04 Coffee House Drama


Natasha_icon.jpg Kevin_icon.jpg Victoria_icon.jpg Bucky_icon.jpg

Summary: Drama unfolds in Starbucks.

Date: Date the log took place.

Log Title Coffee House Drama

Rating: PG-13

NYC - Starbucks

Everywhere you go there's the green and white logo of Starbucks. Coffee, tea, iced drinks, and many specialty coffee drinks and pastries can be enjoyed here. Supporting WiFi and outlets to hook up your laptop, Starbucks is a great spot to relax or study.

The sun has long set over the now non-barrier ridden City, leaving only the lights along the street and the flashing signs from nearby stores to illuminate the area. Sitting on a stool near the back of the coffee house a woman dressed entirely in black stares into a coffee cup that's been half empty for a good half hour. It's certainly gone cold by now, but so wrapped up in her own thoughts, Natasha hardly notices.

Something very strange comes tumbling in through the door. A being of all glossy curves and blades lands haphazardly, skidding along and leaving a few gouges in the floor. It's a woman, her clothing all torn and singed in a few places. More just scraps than anything. She stands up quickly and dashes to the door again, there staring up at something distant. Throwing her arms up in frustration, the strange woman turns and heads back inside. She makes a beeline for the counter and hands over some money pulled out of a falling apart pocket. Receiving a simple black coffee, she carefully grasps the cup in both hands, cautious not to let her bladed fingers touch it. "Why does this keep happening to me?" she mutters to herself in an unearthly voice.

It takes a few moments for Natasha to notice the other patrons in the place have gotten up and scurried for the door with sideways glances to the strange woman that skittered through the door. Eventually Natasha looks up, brows lifting. It's the only emotion that shows on her face as she stands off, sliding the jacket from her shoulders and striding forward to rest it over the woman's shoulders. She moves a few steps away and rests her cold coffee on the counter, staring up at the menu board silently.

The dark woman turns around and looks at Natasha. "Oh, thank you, but please, you may take your jacket back. I have clothes back at my apartment. In this form I just wreck anything I wear and I don't want to ruin your jacket. If you're worried about me being cold, don't. I'm made of stone." She sighs softly and leans sideways, taking another look out the door. "Some of those invaders are severely frustrating." Her voice does not carry as much emotion as one would expect from a person hurled across the street and into the ground.

Coffee's one of the last things Kevin should drink, but he's feeling like drinking something right now. With his skin disguised at a healthy shade, his eyes brown and a nose in its proper place, he wanders into the Starbucks with a mind to order something he can barely pronounce. He lifts the white baseball cap from his head and gives his baldness a good scritch as his eyes start to drift to the menu… Then land on Victoria. "Hey, Eb," he calls in a half-hearted greeting. His wave his equally half-hearted as he moves to walk around her and head for the main counter.

"I'm not worried about the jacket. But your appearance is frightening enough to people already, a bit of covering would do well to preserve what little peace there is tonight." Natasha glances down to her cup and wrinkles her nose, throwing it in a nearby bin. "Another black coffee," she orders, casting a glance to the black stone encased woman. "And yes, they are a nuisance. But will be dealt with." The man that enters draws barely a glance before she goes back to her thoughts.

"Alright. Thank you. And I apologize for frightening people." The strange, bladed woman finds a seat at a nearby table and sits down. She very carefully places the cup of coffee there as well. Looking up to Kevin, she raises one hand in greeting and then hesitates and lowers it. Holding up an array of bladed weapons might not be the most friendly gesture.

Kevin waits his turn all nice and patient. "Give me a mocha loco double frap, heavy on bean, light on the whip, with a dash of hope and sprinkle of optimism." Somehow, the attendant knows what he's talking about. Within moments, a rather decorated drink is presented and the man digs in his pockets for change. He stares thoughtfully at a five dollar bill once he finds it, then just sets it on the counter, grabs his drink, and turns away. "Keep the change," he mumbles and wanders in search of a seat.

These invading forces are, indeed, a nuisance. For the Winter Soldier, they have cost him several clips of ammo thus far. Wandering the night in some vague attempt to grapple what remains his humanity, it was the corporate glow of the Starbuck's sign that drew him away from the dark streets like a moth to a flame; only to wrinkle his nose with distaste at the few preppy students with laptops lounging through the illuminated window. Then running…away? Curiosity gets the better of the soldier as he holds out a gloved palm and slips into the door, sliding his dark eyes from dispassionately from face to face as he reaches for his wallet and approaches the counter; just another mundane citizen in a brown jacket. Is that a walking statue? More importantly, was that /Natasha?/

"I'm not bothered myself. You don't frighten me. But for the sake of the others, and people not calling the authority try and keep the coat on," Natasha offers. The advice is given in a distracted monotone as she slip the money on the counter and takes the coffee, downing a few gulps despite the burn down her throat. Ugh. She hasn't slept since the other night at the Hydra base, too many flashing images of old flames in tubs of goo. She moves off towards another stool, settling and glancing around. Her eyes slide past James and then flicker back to settle, widening.

"I am Obsidian," states the statue. "And I'm not sure if the jacket is doing much, really. I can't very well put it over my head to hide the blades that are my hair. There isn't much to see on my back that needs hiding." She punctures the lid of the coffee cup with one sharp finger then lifts it carefully to her mouth with both hands.

Kevin's wandering gaze wanders its way to Victoria again. "Hey Ebony, mind if I squat down at your bunker for a bit?" It doesn't look like he's going to wait for her to approve or object, though. He heads over to her table and reaches for an available seat. "Found my so-called friend. Like he even needed me to rescue him." He chuffs, blowing whipped cream off of his drink before taking a sip. "You look hot, by the way. I didn't say that before, because y'know, we were in the middle of what seemed to be an alien invasion. But the whole Deadly Nude Statue Girl thing? Outta sight."

There's a certain distaste Barnes has for the conversation's evolution; not for how crude it seems, but for what seems genuine communication without subterfuge or spy games. Blech. He brings his gaze to bear on the barrista and mutters something about coffee, black, only to be met with a 'which coffee?' and a 'Tall, Venti, or Grande?' Didn't coffee used to be coffee? After a few gruff, muttered replies an order is reached and, taking his receipt, he moves to a comfortable couch near the attention-grabbing group. Ears are peeled and the occasional peripheral is cast towards the Russian's form. He knows she knows.

The surrounding conversation is lost on the Russian, as wide green eyes follow Barnes and his movements towards the bench. She doesn't turn to keep him in view, using reflective surfaces around her to keep a steady, wary eye on him. 'It doesn't work that way, doll..' The words echo through her mind as eyes narrow and she pushes up from the stool, striding towards the couch with determination.

Obsidian nods slowly to Kevin and gives a brief look over herself. "You think so? Thank you. I was aiming for 'hot' when I sculpted myself. I may have gone a bit overboard into 'weird', as I didn't have any reference to work from. I can't quite help the nude aspect, but at least this form is no more indecent than most skin-tight superhero costumes." She pauses. "Who was this friend that did not need rescuing?"

Kevin nods and drinks more of his coffee while he listens to her. "Well, it works. I'm sure at random, someone's taken a picture of you with their cellphone camera to keep for themselves." He chuffs at the last question and leans back in his chair. "My /boss/, or former boss I guess. I quit because he's a selfish jerk! And I've got more important things to do than cowtow to him anymore." His fuzzy eyebrows raise high. "Do you know anything about the X-Men and where they can be found, maybe? I'd like to drum them up but short of causing a city-wide crisis, I don't know any other way to reach them."

A foot slips aside and nudges the chair across from him away from the table as Natasha approaches in a sort of vestigial, asshole chivalry. When his the Soldier's coffee finally does arrive, he steals a quick and careful sip before finally opening his mouth to talk. "Looks like you got soft." He remarks, pulling his lips into a thin grin as he leans back and places the cup down in front of him. "…I don't remember extractions being on your resume, Red."

"And it looks like you haven't changed. At all," Natasha murmurs as she settles in the pushed out chair. One leg slides over the other as she studies his face thoughtfully. He's just like she remembers him from so many years back. "It's not that I've gone soft, just had a shifting of priorities. I suppose I decided to start living for myself rather than being someone's lap dog." She takes a slow sip of coffee, shifting her eyes away from him. "Clearly, you prefer the collar."

"No doubt many pictures have been taken of me, in this form and the other," says Obsidian as she sets the cup back down. She quirks an eyebrow and cants her head a little to the side. "The X-Men? Yes, I've been trying to contact them for some time now as well. I wish to coordinate with them to help against the invasion, but I have not received any reply." A quick glance is given to the two at the other table.

Kevin sighs and rests his cup on the table. "Well isn't that just our luck, Ebs." He props his elbows on either side of the cup and rests his head on his palms. There's a quiet period where he's just staring at her for a bit, one eyebrow slowly arching as a question forms. "… So you're not in some sort've super hero group or anything like that? You were sure out there bustin' heads like you were."

The fiery response ends up swallowed with another slow, slurping sip of bitter brew. "I'm glad to see you still think so highly of yourself." He says, staring at the lid of his coffee for a moment before setting it down and bringing his eyes to bear on Natasha. "Can I ask a question?"

Natasha glances back up to catch James' gaze. "If I said no, would it really stop you?" she inquires with a wry smirk. It's rhetorical of course. She studies her drink with a frown before taking a few more scalding sips. "Ask away."

Obsidian shakes her head. The blades that are her hair do not sway at all. They are totally rigid. "I'm independent for now. It's difficult to oppose the violent invaders alone. Since I have been told that they may not be acting under their own will, I have been trying to combat them without causing injury. It is difficult. They have no qualms about attempting to smash me to pieces."

Kevin drinks down his elaborate coffee. "Well we might need to do something about that, Ebs. You and me." He drops his cup into a nearby trash bin and stands up from his seat. "But first, I gotta see if I'm about to get evicted. I'm sure we'll see each other again. A naked statue girl's kinda hard to miss!" Waving, he takes off in a brisk stride.

"Why am I going to kill you?" The Soldier asks, smiling to himself and glancing over his shoulder to study first Kevin then Obsidian before looking back to Natasha. "Isn't that sharp? You can finally fit in. The world's growing as ugly as you are on the inside."

Natasha arches a brow. "Because you're unable to make your own decisions any more. And because clearly, you've forgotten what we shared. Or.. you just don't care anymore." With a dark smile, Natasha pushes back from the couch, finishing off the rest of the glass and tossing it, flawlessly, into a nearby can. "You know nothing about me, James. Not anymore." Her eyes are dark as she watches him for a second. "But if it's a fight you want, you've got it." With that she turns and moves for the door.

Obsidian lifts a closed hand to wave less sharply at Kevin as he leaves. Looking back and seeing the other two appear busy, the dark woman gets up, picks up her cup (carefully again) and starts to head out. "I'll get this jacket back to you soon, with a minimum of shredding."

Barnes watches after Natasha then kicks his feet out and takes another drag of his poorly constructed, paper cup, flicking a finger past his nose with a sigh. He's going to stay. He's going to /enjoy/ his coffee. He can hunt her down later.

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