|Nathaniel Zale (caltrops) wrote in marvel_mashup,|
@ 2019-01-29 16:14:00
|Entry tags:||2018: 07 bd, 2019: 01, @snapped, silvercloud: eva, zale: nathaniel|
| Nathaniel, chronically inconvenienced, arrived at the top floor of Avengers Tower only to be accosted by it’s owner. |
“Eva!” the goateed extrovert yelled from the elevator door Nate had appeared from. “Your yogi is here!” Tony Stark added and Nathaniel sighed, the weight of the attached case on his back suddenly unbearable, like Stark's alleged wit. “Two questions: how much do you charge for house calls, and are there crystals involved?”
Thankfully, Eva appeared and Nathaniel was able to completely ignore Tony. He merely walked away, which he believed left a smirk on Iron Man’s face. The mogul exited quickly after that, which brought an amazing sense of calm to Caltrops. “You know I hate coming here,” he complained amongst the holograms and designs for Vernal Asgard. “We don’t have enough space, the wonder twins will no doubt hear us and barge in, plus...” Nathaniel was about to rant when he noticed Eva’s face was a bit off. “What? What’s the matter?” he asked bluntly, still annoyed but lightly concerned for Eva.
| 'Wonder twins', Zap smirked: Dom and Weenie. "I'm sorry - I just couldn't get out to the mansion today. You know I like it there better, too." Her baby was there. Well, her eldest... Yeah. Ahem. Whew! Here we go. As Nate yanked off his bag, Zap pinched her lips together and watched him with a slight bit of unease and a dash of weird guilt. This was going to slow their roll... maybe considerably. Her mouth opened to answer him, but it closed again. She swallowed, eyes averted. Just say it. |
"I'm... going to have..." Her neck craned to make sure Tony had fully left the room and was out of earshot. "I'm packin' a godlet," she blurted and placed her hands on her belly in the equivalent of finger guns. What the fuck? That was the absolute weirdest way to phrase that. She shook her head. "I'm going to have Thor's baby." She breathed, mouth open. "So we should probably lean more toward the biblio aspects for a while..." She tried to offer a smile, but that weird guilt crept back in. Maybe she felt like she was letting him down by delaying their harder training.
| “Did you just say 'packin’ a godlet'?” Nathaniel’s eyes narrowed and he appeared utterly gobsmacked, mostly by Eva’s choice of words. Was that even a term? No. No, it wasn’t. “And Thor’s baby, like I wouldn’t have known whose it was?” As Zap’s current DADA instructor, Nathaniel felt a great urge to rescue his pupil. “Tell you what,” he began and picked up his bag. “I’m going to walk over there and you can redo that, because that was... rough,” he explained then turned and walked across the room. Once his face was out of Eva’s direct eye line, a terrible forlorn expression appeared on his features - complete with muttering. “Why did you think this was going to go any other way? Of course, she’s having Thor’s child. You’d have Thor’s child.” Nathaniel hid whatever externalized pain he’d briefly exposed, then quickly turned on his heel and walked back toward Eva. “I hate coming here, it sucks,” pause. “What? What’s the matter with you?” Nate asked again but this time with finger guns, because apparently, they were contagious. Fuck. |
| "Sure, sure," Zap nodded and clapped her hands together to psyche herself up, both amused and thankful at Nate's correct reaction to her absurdity. "Right." He walked away and she did a quick recount of what she should've said, versus what she'd actually said in her nervousness. Jitters. He'd given her jitters. He was judgy. Nate had opinions. Yeah. He came back and she locked eyes with him purposefully. Conversation redo, take one: "I prefer the mansion too. It's where my son is. My first baby. I'm pregnant." Better, she thought. Don't let him see your fear. Don't do it, Zap. Awww, fuck. "I'm nervous." Lips pinched themselves together again. "I was nervous to tell you, and I'm nervous to do this..." Pregnancy, that was. A breath of emotion escaped directly from her throat as her fingertips twiddled anxiously, threateningly close to an itsy bitsy spider routine. |
| Christ, she was struggling. Nathaniel's expression landed somewhere between sympathy and pity, but he shook that off quickly and returned to his even baseline. Actually, he passed less judgement than she’d probably assumed, based on his track record of judging everyone harshly. Nathaniel had a twelve-year-old, he understood adject terror such an endeavor could inspire. “Better, but we’ll be off Broadway forever if you don’t tighten it up,” Nate confessed, bag now completely off his shoulder. The conversation paused for a moment and he watched Eva’s hands twitch, awkwardly. Nate reached out and took each one of her hands into his, mostly to prevent her from firing off an erant bolt of electricity. “Hey, you’ve done this before, and how different can a godlet be?” Nate asked then smirked. “I mean, probably very different,” he admitted. “I’ll find a book,” he quickly added. After a lovely moment of hand holding, Nate released her because he felt a hug coming on. Best not. “You know,” he started, her anxiety clear. “I hate it here, so instead of training today you just wanna grab lunch?” he offered, with something close to a smile. |
| His eyes were searching before he spoke, like he was struggling with what to say. Then, he referenced their rehearsed conversation and she cracked a smile. "I'll never perform off Broadway with my connections," she scoffed jokingly. Nate took her hands and Zap gave them a friendly, grateful squeeze. She felt much more grounded. He withdrew fast, though, an obvious dodge of one of her smother-hugs. Fair enough. "Thank you - for being patient and offering to help. And..." she tossed her arms out slightly to the sides in a gesture at their surrondings, "for offering to get the heck out of here for a while." Her smile probably matched Nate's - an almost smile. Fresh air sounded like mana, though. "I'll buy, as long as we talk about anything other than this," Zap offered and went to grab her bag. From over her shoulder: "I didn't know people held hands in Idaho. I thought they just interlocked fingerlings." Her shoulders shook at her own joke and when Eva turned back around she was beaming with a proud grin. He'd been grimacing at her back, she quickly surmised. "What?" |
| “What?” he questioned her question without hestation. “First of all, you know I’m from Iowa,” she did, god she was infuriating sometimes. “Second, that’s a terrible potato pun,” he informed her, his powdered wig of judgement reapplied. Then his sharp tongue nearly made a jab about her buying because her new child’s father was the God of Thunder, but he refrained. Confused by his dulled killer instinct, Nate placed his hands behind his back but held his elbow close to Eva for her to grab, if she chose. She was pregnant after all, nothing wrong with helping steady a pregnant lady, even if it was still early. “Deal. But we’ll take my car. It has more legume,” he smiled with secret soup (away from her), at his own superior pun. |
| Oooh no, that was a good one. And her face betrayed it. And her laugh. Zap cackled, openly, and some static even tjuzed her hair a bit. "Mine was at least a four, though," she argued of her pun. "You're kind to consider accomodating these," she kicked out a foot with an outstretched leg to demonstrate the length of the limb. "Why are you being so nice?" Eva quirked a brow as Nate half-assed offered his elbow to help escort her to the lift. "You can't start taking it easy on me, Potato. We're in this together now - me and your hardass. I wouldn't learn anything from any weaker a tea." Her left arm took his elbow and her right arm toted her bag as they left for the elevator. "What's Iowa like?" |