[When Natasha shows up in Wonderland, there's not a moment's confusion what her priority is: intel. There's a lot she doesn't know, and that's a problem.
She has a pretty good idea of the solution though.
The first thing she does is get the lay of the mansion, tracking the halls and corridors, peeking into rooms and at at mirrors. She does a fairly good job of not drawing attention to the fact she doesn't really know where she is, projecting the air that she belongs there.
As she explores, she keeps her eyes and ears open. She might not know what she's looking for exactly, but she's confident she'll know it when she finds it.]
Workout
[Early morning finds Natasha in the fitness center, wrapping her knuckles and staring down the punching bags—that, or whoever's using them. For a while, she just watches, getting an idea what she's seeing. Strengths, weaknesses. Level of training.
When she sees someone who knows what they're doing, she'll sidle up eventually, flashing half a smile.]
Interested in a real workout?
[But if she sees someone who doesn't know their way around it, well, she might step in there too. She wouldn't want anyone to break a thumb.]
Drinking Buddies
[There's a bar. Of course there is. More than one, apparently.
Natasha ends up in whichever is closer tonight, sitting with a bottle of beer and a pensive look. She watches the room, but so far hesitates to engage. Her own thoughts aren't the best company right now. It's all so oddly normal. Not really normal, but the way people live always finds a level of normalcy. People are kidnapped. They live here. They find jobs and open bars and drink in the evening.
Though an argument could probably be made that the drinking is a coping mechanism.
In which case, she will definitely be ordering another.]
Sit. [She'll finally say when someone comes close enough that she doesn't have to raise her voice. there's a rough note in it, a little natural huskiness that leads people to project any number of emotions on her. She's often used that to her advantage.] Turns out I just remembered why I hate drinking alone.
Natasha Romanoff | MCU
[When Natasha shows up in Wonderland, there's not a moment's confusion what her priority is: intel. There's a lot she doesn't know, and that's a problem.
She has a pretty good idea of the solution though.
The first thing she does is get the lay of the mansion, tracking the halls and corridors, peeking into rooms and at at mirrors. She does a fairly good job of not drawing attention to the fact she doesn't really know where she is, projecting the air that she belongs there.
As she explores, she keeps her eyes and ears open. She might not know what she's looking for exactly, but she's confident she'll know it when she finds it.]
Workout
[Early morning finds Natasha in the fitness center, wrapping her knuckles and staring down the punching bags—that, or whoever's using them. For a while, she just watches, getting an idea what she's seeing. Strengths, weaknesses. Level of training.
When she sees someone who knows what they're doing, she'll sidle up eventually, flashing half a smile.]
Interested in a real workout?
[But if she sees someone who doesn't know their way around it, well, she might step in there too. She wouldn't want anyone to break a thumb.]
Drinking Buddies
[There's a bar. Of course there is. More than one, apparently.
Natasha ends up in whichever is closer tonight, sitting with a bottle of beer and a pensive look. She watches the room, but so far hesitates to engage. Her own thoughts aren't the best company right now. It's all so oddly normal. Not really normal, but the way people live always finds a level of normalcy. People are kidnapped. They live here. They find jobs and open bars and drink in the evening.
Though an argument could probably be made that the drinking is a coping mechanism.
In which case, she will definitely be ordering another.]
Sit. [She'll finally say when someone comes close enough that she doesn't have to raise her voice. there's a rough note in it, a little natural huskiness that leads people to project any number of emotions on her. She's often used that to her advantage.] Turns out I just remembered why I hate drinking alone.