Ava Anatalya Orlova (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
krasnaya_vdova) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
cuddlecity2017-09-01 10:19 pm
krasnaya_vdova) wrote in cuddlecity2017-09-01 10:19 pm
Entry tags:
(closed)
CHARACTERS: Ava Orlova & Bucky Barnes
LOCATIONS: Deja Brew
WARNINGS: Possible narrative mentions of memory wipes/torture depending on how Real the conversation gets. I'll update if needed.
SUMMARY: Two people with memory issues meeting at deja brew. The irony is astounding. (Pre-Earthquake)
[They hadn't agreed on an exact time, just the next day, late afternoon. But, there are ways other than a clock to judge, and so when it gets close, Ava watches the angle of the sun, and shows up when the shadows start to get long, and the day is still bright, but with the breeze that promises evening is coming.
She's a waif of a thing, about five foot even, maybe a hundred pounds soaking wet, but there are striking similarities to Natasha, a little eerie but hard to define, aside from the red of her hair and the way she moves. She dresses not to stick out, to disappear in a crowd of people. Which is maybe not the best strategy when you're supposed to be meeting someone, but she's fairly sure she can recognize him, and she thinks that neither of them are quite the sort for I'll be the girl in the blue shirt. It's a good way to draw attention where you want it, to know the angles because you know where you put the lure.
So instead she just walks up to the counter, orders a coffee, plain and black, in a real mug so she can feel the warmth of it against the palms of her hands. The only weapon she brings is a single knife, in a sheath at the back of the belt in her jeans. It's mostly for comfort, and she has the permit for her weapons in one of the pockets of the over-sized green military coat she wears. Given the stakes in this place, she's trying to more-or-less play by the rules. She can't help reflexively counting the exits, the best escape path, the people in the crowd that carry themselves like they might be trouble, where she'd put a sniper. Calculations she can never entirely turn off, but she watches for him, too.
The Winter Soldier. It's been a day and she's still processing that fact.
If she doesn't see him immediately, she'll make a point to not stay in one place, wandering with her coffee as she keeps her eyes sharp, giving him the opportunity to pick his approach. If she acts a little like he's a wild animal, it's at least half because she knows that she is, too.]
LOCATIONS: Deja Brew
WARNINGS: Possible narrative mentions of memory wipes/torture depending on how Real the conversation gets. I'll update if needed.
SUMMARY: Two people with memory issues meeting at deja brew. The irony is astounding. (Pre-Earthquake)
[They hadn't agreed on an exact time, just the next day, late afternoon. But, there are ways other than a clock to judge, and so when it gets close, Ava watches the angle of the sun, and shows up when the shadows start to get long, and the day is still bright, but with the breeze that promises evening is coming.
She's a waif of a thing, about five foot even, maybe a hundred pounds soaking wet, but there are striking similarities to Natasha, a little eerie but hard to define, aside from the red of her hair and the way she moves. She dresses not to stick out, to disappear in a crowd of people. Which is maybe not the best strategy when you're supposed to be meeting someone, but she's fairly sure she can recognize him, and she thinks that neither of them are quite the sort for I'll be the girl in the blue shirt. It's a good way to draw attention where you want it, to know the angles because you know where you put the lure.
So instead she just walks up to the counter, orders a coffee, plain and black, in a real mug so she can feel the warmth of it against the palms of her hands. The only weapon she brings is a single knife, in a sheath at the back of the belt in her jeans. It's mostly for comfort, and she has the permit for her weapons in one of the pockets of the over-sized green military coat she wears. Given the stakes in this place, she's trying to more-or-less play by the rules. She can't help reflexively counting the exits, the best escape path, the people in the crowd that carry themselves like they might be trouble, where she'd put a sniper. Calculations she can never entirely turn off, but she watches for him, too.
The Winter Soldier. It's been a day and she's still processing that fact.
If she doesn't see him immediately, she'll make a point to not stay in one place, wandering with her coffee as she keeps her eyes sharp, giving him the opportunity to pick his approach. If she acts a little like he's a wild animal, it's at least half because she knows that she is, too.]