1077/Jacket Shopping OF THE GODS

Jacket Shopping OF THE GODS
Date of Scene:	21 June 2017
Location:	New York City
Synopsis:	Natasha and Ares team up for the ultimate challenge--shopping at the mall!
Cast of Characters:	Ares, Black Widow (Romanoff)

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Ares has posed:
    With Alexander away for the Camp of Summer, Ares' downtime is rather more open than it normally seems to be. It started with a late night followed by a late morning and the tall broad-shouldered man blearily gaining his feet and throwing together something akin to a breakfast only composed of leftovers from the other night... just with eggs. As eggs make everything breakfast.
    Then the phone rang and he sat at a crossroads as the timeless question was asked of him by a member of the Avengers.
    "What are you doing today?"
    At first he procrastinated figuring something out. He walked around the kitchen, fiddling with this and that as he was wheedled and needled, but eventually he held up his ruined brown bomber jacket and frowned to himself as he told the person on the other line. "I know my task now, Widow."
    He turned away and looked off into the distance, "Today. I face. The mall."

Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
    Silence.
    It stretches on for long seconds which seem an eternity when sitting on a phone. When she finally speaks, her voice is carefully neutral, that husky alto she also uses when speaking. "That sounds terrifying."
    It's good he can't see her face because despite the droll tone of voice, Natasha is smiling. The idea of the God of War shopping at the mall? Simply hilarious. She knows what he looks like normally but it doesn't keep visions of a rampaging, armor-clad, battle-hardened Greek god laying waste to the entirity of the multi-leveled mall. It shouldn't be funny. She must be a bad person. Not that it stops that smile.
    "Should I send the SHIELD or the Avengers for backup?"

Ares has posed:
    "Bah," Is his concise reply, but he tilts his head to the side. "I need to go into the office, then will meet you at this Mall of Manhattan. It will not be the first time that marketplace has faced my shrewd consideration. They will be both forewarned and amiable to my continued commerce." But he shifts the phone to his other ear and tosses that ruined jacket onto the back of his couch. then he tells the Widow. "I'll see you there around one."
    And as quick as that the phone call breaks, leaving Widow to reflect on the matter at hand. As for John Aaron he grabs his keys off of the counter in the kitchen and heads for his black SUV. A few moments later and the screen door swings shut behind him, the car's ignition fires... and he's on his way.

Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
    This is going to be interesting.
    Her intention was to speak with him about a brewing situation in Greece, since he is very attached to the place for obvious reasons. It's not official information so she isn't violating any rules. Just a little birdy told a little spider and thus she has a thumbdrive in her pocket to share.
    At the appointed time, Natasha is waiting at the entrance to the mall. She has texted which door she's near, so that they aren't both wandering around endlessly trying to find each other. She's not sure what shrewd consideration entails. Nor does she know if the mall being forewarned is a good thing. It doesn't sound good. It sounds like he might've been difficult to deal with in the past. Maybe he's a high maintenance customer. She'll be finding out.
    She's waiting just outside the entrance doors. Blue jeans, a button up red blouse, her light leather jacket over the top, black boots over her feet. She doesn't stand out in the least in the milling shoppers entering and exiting the building.

Ares has posed:
    As for Ares he's in full disguise mode, that primarily being jeans, sneakers, t-shirt... and a black baseball cap. Not really much of a disguise, but it's what so many other incognito operatives seem to wear that it might seem right. Though really chances are he just chose to wear that and the stars aligned.
    Outside the Mall of Manhattan the place just seems like one large building on 33rd Street. There are quite a few entrances, however, up and down the block as well as one in the subway station nearby. So it's good that she dropped a line at first. At that outer entrance he arrives after a time, visibly to her fairly easily as he stands taller than most of the citizens that he's walking with in the crowd. But then he reaches the large sets of double doors that lead inside and he gives her a nod. "Nat." It's easier to use that shortened name then most others as who she's pretending to be can change from day to day.

Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
    "John," she returns with a hint of a smile. She doesn't bat an eye at his outfit. Looks pretty standard, for spies and non spies. She's met him enough times to realize this is probably his normal clothing. Except that hat. She doesn't remember seeing him in one previously. As he opens the door, she slips in ahead of him whether he intended her to or not. He probably did. It's an easy enough task. She can slip in before he can get it open enough to permit his larger form through. She does glance back to see if he has to duck his head.
    "So you've been here before and not killed anyone? You surprise me more every day. I get slightly homicidal everytime I'm in one of these places." Shopping is fine. Malls with the gaggles of teens wandering in packs? Not so much.

Ares has posed:
    The tall man steps through the door and no he doesn't have to duck really, perhaps if he was an inch or two taller he might, but no. Yet he does hold the door for her instinctively as she slips inside. He glances back to make sure no one else is coming through before he lets it swing shut behind them.
    Once inside that huge hum and rush of air-conditioner air seems to assault them for a moment, causing him to hold onto his hat but then they're past it and into the cool air of one of America's premiere shopping experiences. But he takes an easy lead, walking along the side of the hall, heading towards the central corridor of the five story mall, a plethora of stores visible that reach both high up into the sky and low beneath the ground.
    "I get the feeling our experiences may be a touch different." He'll say as he walks and it's true that perhaps due to his size... people do tend to part for him. If Natalia were alone, perhaps not so much likely.
    "I find myself needing jackets. I have... lost several." He says this with a hint of hesitation.

Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
    This is indeed simpler. The crowd parts before him like a wave. It isn't that he's threatening but his sheer size tends to make people want to not be in his direct path. Even at his side, Natasha finds it easier to move through the throngs of people than she normally might. A secondary bonus, being with someone of his size and sex, she isn't likely to be dealing with the fumbling flirtations of those who come to the mall seeking social activities as opposed to shopping. She ignores it normally. Today, maybe she won't even have to tolerate it.
    Next time she has to go to a mall, she knows who she will try to take as her shopping buddy.
    He has to know she will notice that hesitation. She's trained to pick up on the slightest nuance. This was a glaring moment. "Lost?" she prompts.

Ares has posed:
    John Aaron grunts once, a short answer assuredly. But the way it hangs there between them even as they walk through the crowd, he is moved to elaborate. "I went to a convention, while I was there someone tried to stab me. Ruined the jacket." He says severely, but then he looks at her askance and says, "It was that brown leather one." He liked that one, and it shows on his furrowed brow.
    But then he steps to the escalator that leads down, resting a hand on the side of it and leaning back against the rail so he can talk to her. With her a few steps up she's actually on eye level with him as they ride down the trundling mechanism. "Then I lost two others. The red flannel I gave to an injured person." His lip twitches as he looks a bit amused, "The other was given to a refugee from space who had no money." He's serious. Sure it makes him smile, but he's serious.

Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
    There are so many questions from that short bit of information but she has managed to bite her lip and let him finish.
    "Let me see if I have this right." She is leaning on the opposite side from him, facing him as they chat. Although the bottom is coming up quick so she stands and prepares to step off. "Stabbed at a convention, injured person and space refugee," she ticks off each point on her fingers then goes back through them, pointing to the first one. "First, what sort of conventions do gods go to and , second, why did you get stabbed while there? We'll come back to the other jackets after."
    She shouldn't be looking so amused, she really shouldn't. She can't help it. Until something sinks in.
    "Wait? Was that the bomber jacket I gave you back in 1945?" she asks, turning to look over her shoulder a bit sharply.

Ares has posed:
    As they both step off of that escalator, he moves back into the flow of the crowd, though their pace is leisurely and does not set off the flow of foot traffic. "It was a convention for the Construction Workers of America, my foreman asked me to go in his stead. So I did." He still looks a bit annoyed about it as he slips around a group of teenagers who take a moment to look at them and giggle a bit.
    "And I was stabbed there because of an..." The tall man's nose crinkles, annoyance still upon his features, "Case of mistaken identity." He leaves it at that, since it sort of was. Really.
    But then they're passing through the broad open archway that leads into Penny's Basement, a leather goods and outerwear store that's known for decent prices while maintaining fashionability. For truly, Ares is the shrewdest of Gods. Yet as they enter he says over his shoulder "And yes, that's the one. I may see about it getting repaired." His lip curls a bit, "Or having it framed."

Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
    Mistaken identity. Stabbed over it. This sounds like quite a story but from his facial expressions, she's not pushing for more. He'd tell it if he chose to. Natasha's a little peeved that after all those years the jacket was damaged but things happened after 80 years. It was inevitable. The jacket had a good run.
    As soon as they enter the store, she pauses to breathe. Taking the scent of leathergoods deep inside then letting it out with a pleased sigh. Something about the smell of these stores just makes her want to move in for a week or two. Weird, but true.
    She begins perusing the rack. Not mens jackets. No, she is looking at the womens section. "Why would you frame it? Was it that good of a fight?" she asks as she pulls out a black mini skirt and holds it in front of herself before dismissing it. It's hung back on the rack.

Ares has posed:
    "It has memories," John says as he walks around the room, looking about with a dubious expression on his face. For now he stands around Widow as she does some of the shopping, willing to let her indulge while he stands near to enjoy her company. He crosses his arms over his chest and reenacts the look of most men in the world who have had to accompany a woman shopping. It's that mix of looking bored while trying not to look too bored, even when you're talking. "The fight was more frustrating than anything else."
    He pauses for a moment at a pair of small tight black leather pants and smirks a bit as he glances over towards Natasha. Luckily, for his health, he says nothing about it and instead goes on. "Or I could get it repaired and you could give it to someone else you rescue from a fate worse than death."

Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
    "No need to give it back. I have a guy who keeps me in a steady supply of them since I save so many from that fate," Natasha says straight-faced as she moves to the next rack. Her eyes lock on a pair of leather pants, ones she doesn't realize he was just eyeballing. She picks them up and holds them in front of her, that thing women do like it's going to tell them a thing. It doesn't. They always have to be tried on, especially leather. Otherwise one ends up with a saggy bottom and there is nothing worse than leather pants with that. She keeps a hold of them them moves to another rack with jackets. Womens still.
    His suffering is his own fault. He shouldn't have gone in the leather store.
    "I don't know how you could find a fight frustrating," she admits, looking over at John. "It was your schtick at one time. Or was it because you couldn't smite him?"

Ares has posed:
    She can hear the /ruuuumble/ of his exhaled breath, what would be called a sigh amongst most but with him it's entirely too deep to be such. He rests a hand on the chrome clothes rack, resting his hand there as he casually twists the loose end cap of it, fiddling distractedly as he speaks to her and she shops. "Frustrating in that it was a young person who was bound by duty to protect a place from supernatural interference."
    He walks along after her, sliding his hands into the pockets of his jeans and quirking an eyebrow at something. "So when I crossed the border of their territory it set off alarms for them. In attempting to protect what was important to them they accosted me and I tried to explain to them this was a mistake."
    A few steps and he pauses near another rack, but this time he gets a rather wickedly wry smile as he pulls up something from a rack and holds it out to her. Pants? No. Jacket? No. Black leather chaps. His grin says yes.

Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
    "So like I said. You couldn't do any smiting," Natasha says with a soft chuckle. No giggling from her. With her husky tone, it comes out more a chuckle. The jackets are flicked through absently then she dismisses that rack to move to the next.
    His offering is met with a flat stare. No words. Just the eye to eye contact letting him know just how not funny he is. The odd thing is, she takes them and adds them with the pants hanger already hanging on her left hand. "D.P. will love them," she says as the amusement returns instantly,
    Deciding to be merciful, she leads the way to the mens section then slows, letting him take the lead now that he's the one who needs to browse.

Ares has posed:
    It's once they're in the men's section that it becomes evident, to Natasha at least, that the broad-shouldered incognito Olympian does not know how to shop. For what does he do once he's there in the myriad of offerings for outerwear? He steps up to the first rack, starts to look at the sizes, clothes, then finds one that's his size...
    And he picks it up, slinging it over his shoulder and saying. "This will do." That's it, all done. Quick in, quick out. On some level it might even be offensive to Natasha. But he seems utterly unaware of such an insult he has given, as he starts to head on over towards the cashier.

Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
    "John," comes the voice from behind him before he makes it five steps. Natasha has a hand on her hip, brow furrowed. "Did you even look at that thing? The lines are all wrong for your build." She closes the distance between them, snatching away the offensive jacket before he can stop her. It is put back on the rack it came from. She does take a note of the size before she starts looking through the first rack. Nothing appeals. She's moving to the second rack where she pulls out a nice brown jacket that is cut in a way that would show off his physique better than that tent thing he had a moment ago. "This is more like what you need to buy. It's tailored more, but enough room for you to hide weapons." Okay, maybe that's more a Natasha thing than a John thing but it's important!

Ares has posed:
    "What do you mean?" The tall man stops and turns towards her, cocking an eyebrow with confusion as he slides the coat off his shoulder and extends it at arm's length towards her, but eyeballing it himself. He then has the jacket torn from his hand and he rests his hands on his hips, watching her as she heads back to those racks of clothes.
    There's a moment of pause as he watches her drift further and further away, knowing that if he walks back after her that's an admission to her victory in this regard, he grumbles, but does so. Walking after her he steps to the jacket she points out to him and says, "Hm."
    John looks it over and tells her, "It may look better, but I do not care to draw attention, Natalia." He folds his arms and spurns her choice by adding, "The other one was larger and broader so as to not gain a second look."

Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
    "Seriously?" Natasha asks before she can stop herself. "You think that because the jacket fits loose, it is less obvious? Have you looked in a mirror lately?"
    With that, Natasha steps into his personal space. Less than a foot away from him, head tilted back to be able to see his face way up there. She's about eye level with the middle of his chest otherwise. "You do know you are a walking mountain? No amount of bagginess in your clothes is going to hide that. In fact, too much extra material makes you seem even larger." She holds the jacket up in front of him, doing that thing again. "This will follow the line of your torso. It's more slimming and while it won't make you less noticeable, it won't make you moreso either."
    She lifts the hanger, wiggling it in the air as though expecting him to take it as she setps backwards two paces, giving him back his personal space. "You're getting this one."

Ares has posed:
    The Olympian's features contort as he looks away from her, clearly disagreeing but not trying to get in a word edge-wise at first, clearly a wise course of action. So he looks across the store as she plays paper-doll dressup with the God, holding that jacket in front of him. Then she says that latter comment and he affixes her with that brown-eyed gaze, "Are you saying I'm fat?"
    Those eyes hold hers and she'll see them narrow, but then a smirk slips through to break any hint of tension as he shakes his head. "Going to give me advice on my underwear while we're out and about?" But, to her credit, he takes that jacket from her and slings it over his shoulder like the other one. And, to be fair, this one will fit better. Probably.
    "I also need some socks." He rumbles a slightly amused if snide comment to the side after her.

Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
    Her gaze flicks to his chest and stomach as she purses her lips, "Well, you maybe should lay off the cheeseburgers..." she says in a musing tone. Then she continues. "Socks you can figure out for yourself. I hope. I mean, I figured you would know how to dress after thousands of years. Oh wait, you Greeks were always running around mostly naked anyway," she starts toward the cashier stand but then detours, heading for the changing room. She still has some pants to try on before she buys them. What? He thought he'd be getting out of here that easily?
    "And due to that heritage, I'm guessing you don't even wear underwear. If you do, pick those for yourself." Then she closes the door behind her so she can change clothes in the privacy of the fitting room.

Ares has posed:
    As Natasha steps away from him she'll feel him lightly touch a hand to her back and /shove/, not heavily or meanly, just a little sign of growly affection that might set her step off by a single beat, little more. Yet when she looks back at him he'll be glancing to the side as if nothing happened as he looks at a /terribly/ interesting jacket that's not his size at all.
    But then she slips away from him and leaves him there at the cashier as he gives a nod to the young woman. "She lies."
    The nervous cashier smiles and gives a harried nod.
    "I do wear underwear." But at that John Aaron leans against the register and starts to wait. "Feel free to start ringing this up." Though he does gesture to some socks behind the counter.

Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
    It's a few minutes later when Natasha comes out of the fitting room. Wearing her jeans and carrying the leather pants. She heads to join him at the register. The pants are set to the side of his order as she reaches inside her jacket to grab a credit card out. Apparently, she didn't need to do that womanly thing of stepping out of the fitting room in the clothes and asking if they looked okay. She tried them. They looked fantastic. She's going to buy them.
    Simple.
    Seeing the socks added on the pile but no underwear, Natasha does not make a comment and she keeps her expression carefully blank.

Ares has posed:
    But John answers the silent question, "They only have leather underwear." His lips purse into a faint scowl. But he pulls her stuff over and reaches for his own credit card, "I still owe you." He gestures at her stuff with a casual gesture of one hand, then says. "For the jacket from before."
    Sure that jacket was from before, eighty years before, but still.
    He looks towards the cashier and nods, "All of it's together." Then he sets his credit card down, proclaiming his name as John Aaron AMEX Gold and all those pleasant things. But he eyes her sidelong, "Where to after this?"

Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
    "Somewhere we can sit and have a drink," Natasha says as she puts her card away, not arguing since he can be stubborn sometimes. It's probably a god thing. The only other god she knew she thought had cornered the market until she met John. Apparently there was enough to spread around. She needed to meet a few more to get a proper sampling and make a decision on the matter.
    "Seperate bags," Natasha says as the clerk goes to put them all in a single oversized plastic cover so they can be hung up easily while being protected. The pants are put into the bag. No chaps. She must've left them in the dressing room. Probably didn't fit. She snags the hanger for her pants, pulling it across the counter to her side. "And talk quietly," she adds.
    To the clerk, that probably just means she wants privacy with her man. In reality, Natasha needs to give him that thumbdrive in an atmosphere where she won't feel she's being watched.

Ares has posed:
    Once they're done with the cashier they start to head towards the door, footsteps even as they fall into sync. He holds his bag over his shoulder and tells her sidelong, "I am not familiar with this neighborhood, if you are aware of a place that suits then please, by all means, lead on." And true to his word he will follow after her even as they make for those escalators again.
    Then they're in the crowd and he'll ask her, "I assume you had some other purpose to call on me beyond offering critique as to my wardrobe?" His smirk is amused as they ride upwards again.
    Being out together the reactions of the crowd is rather different. At times Natalia would be given extra glances, smiles, perhaps even the occasional attention from a token Lothario. And Ares, at times a young woman would look his way, adjust her hair, only to have her flirtatious smile broken by a glance at widow which suddenly has them acting as if they were looking to a different place.

Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
    The looks are noticed. They are also ignored. Except a couple of times when Natasha can't help herself. She catches a couple of girls staring doe-eyed at John so she makes a point of clearing her throat. The girls look at her and suddenly find something else to be doing. Natasha chuckles, "I hope I'm not cramping your style here," she teases as she opens the exit door and slips back outside. She starts to head down the blook then pauses. "I rode my bike. You have a vehicle we can leave the bags in? There's a good Irish pub about two blocks up and one over where we can stop in." She's been there in the past. There are booths where they can sit and not be spied on easily. It could be done but it wouldn't be simple and one of them would probably spot the culprit.

Ares has posed:
    "I rode the train in," He says as he walks with her, now at the ground floor as he steps off the escalator with her and then gestures her towards the door that leads back out into the too too warm summer heat. "We can bring the bags. If it's near here they're probably used to people bringing packages inside."
    But as they start walking on the sidewalk he smirks at her, "You know widow, contrary to what you might believe of the male psyche, I am not constantly on the look to rut with some token mortal who throws herself in my path."
    He does scritch at his chin for a moment with one finger, his beard making a scratchy noise. "Though," He looks thoughtful. "I did find myself intrigued by this one woman who was very... intent on my attentions."

Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
    She continues to lead the way, the walk not too far really. "It's not he male psyche only," she explains since he seems to be getting the wrong idea. "It's the male god mentality. I read my mythology. You guys are suckers for a pretty face." Natasha does not mention that his father was one of the worst of the lot. Their steps aren't hurried. The sidewalks aren't all that busy although there are quite a few people going busily to and fro.
    At his musing, she turns her head to look at him and tries to read his expression, his body language. "Intent?"

Ares has posed:
    "Bah, your lies are as twisted as your vicious vicious heart, Natalia." Harsh words, but any severity is robbed from them by the wry smirk on his lips as he keeps walking down the street. "First off, I would argue that there are many, /many/ more stories of the romantic flailings about regarding my brother and my father. As for me, perhaps there are one or two floating around out there, but I am an individual of..." He tilts his head to the side and then adds, "Discrimination."
    That said he nods to her as they reach the door of the pub and he pulls it open, holding it for her as he eyes her sidelong. "But yes. It was curious. I had thought a friend of mine had an interest in her so I did what I could to dissuade her. But she asked direct and pointed questions and I was loathe to lie."

Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
Ducking in the door, Natasha hesitates long enough for her eyes to adjust to the dim interior. It's a nice place but not high level. There are lots of tables with scuffed wooden tops, a few booths lining the walls and free standing tables in the middle. There is an old fashioned jukebox toward the back with a small space in front of it where perhaps a table onece rested but they opened up a dance spot for the few that might wnat to try. Or get drunk enough. There is an area with a dartboard as well. The bartop is high, lined with stools, many of which are occupied. Only a few booths and tables are. It looks more like a local crowd than many outsiders.
    The bartender gives Natasha a wave when he spots her. Then he does a double take at John, obviously surprised to see who the redhead is with. "Your usual?" he calls out to her.
    Natasha glances back at John as she leads the way to a booth in the back where they will have privacy and be able to keep an eye on the comings and goings in the bar. "Vodka, beer or something else?" she asks her companion.