1963/Aftermath, Thy Name is Vanya

Aftermath, Thy Name is Vanya
Date of Scene:	13 August 2017
Location:	Unknown
Synopsis:	Summary needed
Cast of Characters:	Feral, Ares

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Feral has posed:
    Leaning back in her seat with her feet propped up on the bench opposite her, Vanya takes a long drink from her soda then lets out a long sigh. "I hate the heat here," she grouses. "It's supposed to be cold this far north. Did this state not read the weather forecast?"
    Dressed in a baggy t-shirt, the brawler tugs at her loose collar to air herself out a little while the split pot in the center of the table works its way up to a low boil. Chopsticks and forks are provided on the side for later use and except for a couple small bowls, plates, and some sauces the rest of the table is empty to make room for ingredients to follow. Hot pot is something of a self-serve affair.

Ares has posed:
    Settled into his own seat in the booth, his thigh resting on the empty seat beside him, John Aaron tilts his head to the side and leans with his back against the wall, looking comfortable and fairly relaxed. He casually reaches a hand out to his own drink of ice water with lemon and tilts it back, taking a few swallows and then crunching on some of the ice that came with it.
    Dark brown eyes shift over towards her and he lifts his chin, "Alright, enough dancing around. Tell me what all happened, how it went down, what part you played in it, and what you're going to do now." His lip twitches as he fishes out the lemon slice from his glass and squeezes it into the remaining water, then swirls it with his straw.
    Then, a beat, and he adds. "And if you've run into anything because of your whole job thing with me. Oh and have you met Akula yet?"

Feral has posed:
    The werewoman scoffs lightly under her breath at the bevy of questions. "Why, are you hoping to replace me with a bigger, sharkier Russian, or are you hoping we'll fight and you'll get to watch?" Apparently that's a yes. "We haven't drawn blood yet, but that sapogi looks like fun," she admits with a grin.
    "And I heard you turned down a chance to beat up some "Winter soldier" too? Mercy said you mentioned me instead," Vanya continues, sounding more confused than anything else. "The way she's talking he sounds like another good fight... it's just a wait until she can find him."

Ares has posed:
    "Mmm, I seem to be collecting wayward Russian super soldiers," The tall man smirks as he tosses an ice cube up into the air in a high arc towards her, even as he turns and looks across the room, letting his gaze wander. "But yes, Mercy wanted my aid. I told her I'd help as I could, but I would not raise hand against a former comrade."
    Then John looks back to her and replies, "He and I go a time back, and I would not feel it appropriate to kidnap him. But I understand that her and her people wish to help him regain himself." A small shrug is given, "But please feel free to aid them, I believe their goal is noble."

Feral has posed:
    Vanya catches the cube deftly and squeezes, crushing it with a muffled crackling before reopening her palm to let the shattered remains fall into her drink. "Super soldier?" she laughs softly. "They didn't make me on purpose. I'm just a... happy accident of evolution," the were-woman considers as she dabs her wet hand on her napkin.
    The brawler's attention is pulled from the table as she sniffs and turns her head with a smile. "Food's here!"
    
    Rolling over with a tray, a waitress in an orange dress nods to the pair and begins moving plates onto the table; lettuce, tofu, corn, noodles... it's a wide selection and all raw, including the meat. Tending as well to the pot while she's here, the waitress turns it down to a simmer and lifts a pitcher to refill John's glass while she's at it.
    "Please enjoy," she wishes warmly.

Ares has posed:
    "Yes, but if you were a soldier I am sure you'd be super at it," John replies without inflection, as if resolving the entire discussion there in that calm retort. He leans forwards and starts to tend to his meal, which seems to mostly be him doing what he can with the meat and some of the noodles, little else. But as it stands he leaves it at that.
    "I also met another former Russian operative. Made the mistake of sending Akula to try and bring her in from the cold." He shakes his head and frowns, looking to the side, "I'll try one more time, but perhaps she just needs time off figuring things out."
    Then he looks back at Vanya, "Still. There are a few of you."

Feral has posed:
    Vanya's solution to food is a little more straight-forward; everything on her half of the table is being shoveled into her side of the bubbling pot to cook... except for a chunk of lettuce that's popped straight into her mouth. "Bah, I wouldn't march single file," she dismisses, though the mention of more Russians gets a brown-eyed look of interest from across the table. "Hm? Another akula?" the brawler asks hopefully.

Ares has posed:
    "Not sure," John frowns and pushes around his side of the pot with one of the chop sticks, getting them to apparently float as he wants, "I sometimes get a feeling when someone has been treated ill by the fortunes of war. Betrayed by their comrades, turned out by their country. I had a similar feeling with Akula, and slightly with you but it was a different flavor."
    The tall man shakes his head as he settles back into his seat, eyes turning away to consider the room at large, then back to her, "It bothers me. For some reason." His brow furrows as he doesn't give voice as to why. He just shakes his head, and then eats a bit of noodle.

Feral has posed:
    "Hmm?" Vanya vocalizes again, then shrugs at the warrior's silence. "Akula's just mad the war ended I think. The only things I miss from there are tigers, cold weather, and Russian. Learning English was a pain."
    "You don't know anyone with a teleporter, do you?" the were-woman asks out of the blue.

Ares has posed:
    The incognito Olympian flares his hand to the side, surrendering the qualms of Akula and her many many issues, the least of which most likely being her nostalgia for the Cold War and the old Mother Russia. But he scoops up another noodle and casually chews on it a little while it's still a bit 'al dente.'
    "Do you need to convey something somewhere? I can perhaps help with that. But I am not, technically, a teleporter." He stirs the pot a bit more with his chop stick as he looks into its depths.

Feral has posed:
    "Well I have a shopping list and it's a long walk to Brazil," Vanya explains casually as she stirs her own food around, judging it not quite cooked to her liking yet. The werewoman chuckles softly as she looks back up and the overhead light plays just a little at the edge of her runic brand. "And I feel like 'some people' might complain if I disappeared for a year to make the trip."
    "Getting to Africa is right out without an airplane," she adds, letting her gaze fall back onto the bubbling water with what, for a moment, is a forlorn stillness. Not an expression common to the impulsive beast's face.

Ares has posed:
    A small smirk comes to life upon the tall man's features as he looks back at her, one eyebrow quirked and his expression curious. But he gives her a nod and seems to hunker back into his booth seat, back pressing against the wall while he takes up his glass in one large and calloused hand. There's a faint clink of ice as he tilts his hand one way and then the other, "Well," He tilts his head to the side, "When we both get some time can make a trip of it. Or can just drop you off and meet you somewhere a week later or however long you need. But this better not become a habit." He smirks as he takes another swallow of water, then crunches another ice cube. "If you ever call me asking for my help to go get you some groceries down at the corner, I'm kicking your ass."

Feral has posed:
    "Oh /please/," Vanya retorts as the banter lifts her spirit right back up with the start of an eager smile. But it like the forlorn stare is short-lived as the were-woman's mood mellows back out somewhere closer to neutral. "I'm ($@#ing bored, Ivan, and I'm starting to run out of prey," she finally admits before taking a pause from her confession to pull a strip of tofu from her broth and into her mouth.
    "I've killed a tiger with my bare hands, I've killed a *bear*. Hell in the fight I got into yesterday I took a punch to the face just for fun..." Here the wild Russian snickers a little. "Sure it was fun to see his expression, but what kinds of challenges are this planet growing anymore?"
    Another piece of lettuce is popped into her mouth and Vanya crunches down on it, running her nails upon the table as a small growl rumbles in the back of her throat. "I feel like I'm reaching some kind of limit... I hate it."

Ares has posed:
    A hand lifts, "I'd imagine in these days you'd be dealing with maddening prey all over the place." He gestures at her with his chopsticks as he holds up a piece of noodle, "I fought gargoyles the other day. Gargoyles." He shakes his head and then adds, "Not that I think you could really get much from a stone creature. But then again you never know."
    That said he takes another bite and looks to the side, down at his silverware as if pondering something. His brow knits and he looks back up at her. "Though ennui can be something you have to deal with when you live for a long time. I would use different things at times to try and gain a grip on things."
    He eats another noodle and then adds, "Place rules on things, adopt a new approach to matters." He waves a hand, "In any case, we shall go on safari some time soon. Yes?"

Feral has posed:
    "They're surprisingly good at hiding but I have had a few fun fights at least. You remember two of them," Vanya grants as she mulls things over and takes another drink, letting the soda fizz in the back of her mouth before swallowing.
    As she thinks some more a smile spreads across the were-woman's face again, showing just a hint of her pointed canines. "Da, I think a little vacation is just what I need. What do I owe you?" she asks.

Ares has posed:
    "You owe me nothing, Vanya." The tall man smirks as he leans over and then perhaps uses his chopsticks to steal one of her noodles, "There. Payment in full," And with that he'll toss it into his mouth and chews for a bit before reacquiring his drink.
    "We'll make a day of it." His smirk curls and for now that will serve. It's time to get down to some hard core eating.