outstandingbalance | IC Contact Post

You know, I'm pretty sure that's a sin too. At least if you do it right.

[Teasing now. She likes teasing. Distraction seems to her like a better idea than dwelling ceaselessly. While she doesn't think that's the end of the topic, she's more than happy to take a lighter direction.]

Those aren't as bad.

[ Matt laughs, shrugging but certainly not moving his hand from hers. Busted. ]

You know, a scale of 1 to murder, it's pretty far down.

[ You know what else could be pretty far down? /rimshot ]

Oh, just going to softball it in like that. I might take it for encouragement.

[She might push it, but she she has to agree that one sin's a whole lot more victimless than the other.]

How far down were you thinking of?

I'm not stopping you.

[ That's a sin by omission, but like he said, there are much worse. ]

Depends. How far down are you willing to go?

[That moment when remembering you're turning into a monster ruins flirting.]

Well, I don't know. Things might get a little weird down there these days.

[ That's only if you lack imagination, Natasha. I mean, he can definitely hear the strange sound of her breathing, but he also doesn't care if she's visually attractive or what. Blind guy don't curr. ]

It wouldn't exactly scare me away. [ Are you doing this, Matt. You're doing this. ] I mean, I'm more of tactile guy. Plus I've got hooves and my legs are covered in fur. Weird is pretty relative.

[She snorts a little at that, perhaps not entirely convinced. Her life is pretty strange right now; there's still a limit on how strange she can see it becoming.]

Oh, I remember. I didn't expect you to be scared off...

[It might not entirely be fair—but call it trial by fire.

Natasha stands, still holding his hand, and rounds the table to sit in the booth beside him. If he doesn't pull away, she guides his hand under the table and down to her lower leg, so he can feel the way her calf is pulling apart through the fabric of her skirt—like a bundle of four malformed spider legs held together by the remains of her human legs.]

Just maybe not interested.

[ Matt follows her lead, letting her guide his hand until she's seated next to him.

Yikes. Well, that's admittedly pretty strange. He knows she's becoming an arachne, but for a guy like him, a mental picture is just a blur unless he can actually feel it. While he may not be immediately on board for getting frisky, he doesn't pull away. He isn't repulsed, more than anything he's... curious.

But yeah, yikes. Maybe he's more concerned for her than concerned about getting off right at the moment. ]

Does it hurt?

[Maybe she should have given Matt more credit, because his concern surprises her.

Or maybe she's just not very good at letting people worry about her.]

Yeah. It does.

[She draws her hand away, folding both of them on the table in front of her.]

I manage, though. It's not debilitating.

[Which is why no fewer than three people have tried to get her to use a wheelchair.]

Mostly it's fine as long as I'm sitting.

[ "Not debilitating" could mean a lot of things for people like them, but Matt gets it. He never let his legs keep him from walking or doing anything he needed to. Natasha's changes might be coming slowly, but it's the same idea. ]

Well, as long as you're sitting...? I can always wait. [ He smirks, letting his hand rest over hers though his words are mostly joking. If she's not comfortable, he isn't going to try anything. But god forbid he give her something like sympathy, he knows she's not asking for that. He's a worrier, you know how it is. ]

How long have they been like this?

Edited (icon) 2015-12-31 21:21 (UTC)

It started a little before the Christmas party. It's just progressed since then.

[She shrugs a little. Well, he's still willing to touch her at least. Still...]

I was asking for painkillers for a reason. It's fine, though. I can manage with them.

Damn. Didn't realize it was a constant thing.

[ He reaches around on the table with his free hand, finding his glass (well, her glass, technically,) and offering her the rest. ]

Here. Maybe we can get that bottle after all.

It has been, more or less. [She accepts the glass and finishes it in one swallow, then sighs and leans against his shoulder. Might not be exciting, but she finds she wants the contact. Call it mutually comforting.]

That's not a bad idea. Can't say we haven't earned it.

[ Matt leans his head against hers as she presses up to him. It's more for comfort, and he's totally fine with that. Sounds like they both need it right about now. ]

I'll get it. [ They're in a booth and she's technically in his way, but Matt can also tell they're far enough away that no one's paying them much attention. So it wouldn't be weird for him to move their empty glasses aside and kind of just put his weight on the table to pull his legs out a not-flip to get out without bothering her.

Don't worry, he makes sure to adjust his shirt and tie once he's standing again. Is he showing off? He's showing off. But judging by the sounds around him, no one was looking. Or if they were, they probably can't believe that they saw. ]

Be right back.

[At least one person saw it. She might be as impressed as the average spectator though. Not that she's not impressed, but it's tempered by wry humor and the knowledge that he is showing off. That, having seen a superhero or two already.]

You know, I think you've just been waiting to do that.

[She can't actually claim that she minds though. If he wants to show off, he can. She's okay getting comfortable in the booth. She keeps an eye on him as he goes. The bar largely ignores both of them, which is exactly how she likes it.

When he gets back, she comments:]

You know I'm going to have to ask where you learned to do that.

[ Matt smiles. He denies nothing, instead making his way to the bar (without his cane) and returning with a bottle of whiskey. All without bumping into a single person. If he's going to show off, he's gotta do it right. ]

Would you believe me if I said I learned it from an old man named Stick?

[ He joins her on the same side of the booth, sliding the bottle over till it clinks on her glass. He still has to feel around for the other one, but once he's made contact with them he pours them each a drink without turning his gaze towards his hands. Just blind things. ]

You can ask me about the blind thing now, if you want.

[If he was going to offer like that, how could she pass up? She scoots over to make room for him, pouring for both of them as she does.]

I believe it. But I am gonna ask... Tell me about it? The blind thing. [She's intentionally vague, letting him decide what he wants to share.]

Edited 2016-01-01 04:49 (UTC)

Lost my vision when I was nine. Car accident-- knocked an old man out of the way and ended up with chemicals splashed in my eyes for the trouble.

[ He sets the bottle down, stirring his drink needlessly. He hasn't told this part of the story to too many people, but she's kind of a superhero. There's really no point in hiding it. ]

That's when I got my senses enhanced too. It's different here-- but back home, I could hear a heartbeat in another room, pick up police chatter from a block away, or tell you what you had for lunch three days ago just by smelling your breath. That sort of thing. Everything from my balance to my heat perception was... well, it was intense.

Heat perception huh? [There's a smirk in her voice when she says that.

His story makes sense. She didn't doubt a blind man could do most things, day to day, as well as most people; fighting crime wasn't most people's day to day life. That was dangerous for anyone.]

So you were enhanced. There's more of that out there than it seems like any of us realized.

[She's quick to sip her drink again.]

Maybe I should amend vigilante and go with superhero.

Among other things. I mean, if you want to call a freak accident being enhanced, then yes.

[ He's never heard of other people with powers besides like, the Avengers, but then again he doesn't exactly socialize within their circles, either. If superheroes have circles. ]

Connor called me that too. [ That makes him smile somewhat sadly. He picks up his drink and takes a long sip, continuing; ] I don't think it counts, personally. My senses make perceiving the world easier, but they're not super strength or agility or anything. The rest I got through training-- I really did know an old man named Stick. He trained me, taught me how to use my gifts like I do. Taught me how to fight... besides boxing, anyway. My dad was a boxer; I got that part from him.

[ Good ol' Battlin' Jack. ]

I have been informed very adamantly by people who seem to know what they're talking about that you don't have to be super strong or have a flying suit to be a superhero.

Honestly, I'm a little fuzzy on the distinctions myself.

[She makes light of it because she'd rather make light of it than admit that she wasn't much of a hero. In her case, super should really be attached to "spy" or something even less noble.

But that's not how you make a good impression.

Besides, his explanation stirs a professional curiosity.]

This Stick, you know his story? I assume he wasn't exactly teaching karate at the local YMCA.

[ Matt laughs, shrugging in his response. He wouldn't call himself a superhero by a long
shot, but Natasha would seem like she'd know since she hangs out with so many. ]

Not sure, myself. The nuns in the orphanage found him as some kind of blind trainer. I know he has connections to some powerful people, like he was definitely reporting to someone but he abandoned me before he had a chance to teach me anything about them.

[ This time when Matt laughs it's bitter. An old wound that stings with anger, disappointment, and even just your classic abandonment issues. Perfect time to take another drink. ]

He left me alone once I started to get "too attached." I wasn't fit for the life he had planned for me. I was too soft.

Edited 2016-01-01 09:27 (UTC)

Trust me, it's a good thing to be too soft for someone like that.

[And she wasn't sure she even disagreed with his assessment, per se. not that she thought Matt was soft, but the fact that he had been gave her at least a very basic idea what kind of person or organization he might have been dealing with. Enough that she was confident in believing that a man who'd have an emotional crisis for killing a robber and cry over having to mercy kill his own friend would be destroyed if he'd been brought in. One way or the other.]

So now you use his training to protect a New York neighborhood?

Maybe. He was the closest thing I had to a father figure at the time, it's just a shame he was such a dick.

[ Matt scoffs just thinking about it though, his feelings toward Stick will always be complicated. He can hate him all he wants but he still taught him all the basics of what he knows. Without him, Matt would be God-knows-where. ]

That pretty much sums it up. Hell's Kitchen was hit hard by the Incident. It's recovering, but there's a lot of people moving in, looking to make money off people in need. I make sure those kinds know they aren't welcome in my city.

[Natasha knew some of that. Not all of it, of course, but she wasn't surprised either. She dips her head a little, wondering how much he blames the Avengers for "the Incident." Obviously not so much that he's not willing to get close to her.]

Not exactly surprising. There are always people who are willing to come in and take advantage of a bad situation. Wolves, only afraid of someone with bigger teeth.

[Her voice is quiet, thinking of the people who told her that.]

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