Who: Natasha & Thor What: Quite the display at the Victor's Ball. Let's discuss. Where: A hip Capitol watering hole. When: A few days after the ball.
Like most of the single-word-moniker dining clubs that faded in and out of fashion, Nebula was designed almost entirely to appeal to whimsy without much of a solid foundation to back it up. Clouds, that had been the idea. What if a person could walk through a thin fog of vaporized alcohol and simply breathe it in? Intoxication without all the trouble of lifting a glass, just constant aspiration. What the owners had failed to take into consideration was that nobody who was looking to get drunk was really all that troubled by the idea of lifting a glass. Even accounting for the laziness of the average Capitol citizen, that wasn't the sort of thing a person tended to consider 'work'. Or that it took considerably longer to inhale enough alcohol to really feel the effects of it, or that it tended to leave skin uncomfortably sticky and hair an inflated, tangled mess if you spent too long in a room where you were literally marinating in it. Or that the intermingling smells of all those boozy clouds combined with whatever perfume scents were in fashion that month had the potential to be overpowering if something wasn't done to engineer that in the early stages.
Natasha hadn't shared any of those thoughts when she'd spent the night with one of the co-founders back when he'd been babbling to her about plans for the place in the early stages, of course. Let him figure it out for himself and blow too much of his personal fortune to work out the kinks.
Still, despite the handful of drawbacks, the place was undeniably beautiful. All those different colored clouds hovering over various tables, rooms filled with vapor, the shimmering waterfalls that ran down the walls, the dimness of the lighting; cool and tranquil and quite a good place for privacy, actually. Nebula had gained a little bit of a following as a fabulous place to either begin an epic evening or to quietly recover from one, helped along with a little hair of the dog. And of course, even if the effects took awhile to work, sit there long enough and it would do the job of getting you drunk quite nicely and with extreme subtlety, if you had the time to wait.
It wasn't the first time Natasha and Thor had met up here, and it'd hardly be the last. It was the first place she'd dropped in on, and all without the help of sending a message first.
She shook her head at the Avox hostess, who'd made a gesture to offer help in finding a seat - not necessary, thank you - and moved through the restaurant discreetly as it was possible to do, when your hair was by far the brightest thing in the dim lighting. One of the reasons they both liked this place so much; visibility was generally so obscured that they were guaranteed to be left alone. She slid into the booth beside him neatly, regarded his features for a moment. In as much as Natasha ever liked anyone, she liked Thor, and at the very least, there was a shared kinship there, a level of understanding about certain...requirements of victorhood that Natasha didn't choose to talk about with many other people. "Well, you seem to have pulled it together," she greeted him. "Not a small feat, that."