Stahma Tarr is no one's fool (noonesfool) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2016-05-28 17:30:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, natasha romanoff (black widow), stahma tarr |
Who: Natasha and Stahma
What: Talking over drinks
When: Recently
Where: A mundane type of establishment
Warnings: PG-13ish. Discussion of Stahma being a terrorist in her dreams, and talk of mafia life in general
As she’d told Natasha, it was just about two hours when she arrived at the address that she’d been given. Stahma had needed the time to make herself up properly to conceal her not-quite-human appearance. To save time, she chosen to wear long sleeves and pants. Less skin she needed to make a ‘normal’ color, after all. Wig, colored contacts and make-up in place, Stahma arrived, stepping out of her car. She still looked like a million bucks in the clothes she was wearing, and she seemed to be just as classy as when she wore dresses.
She stepped inside the place and glanced around, looking for the redhead. Stahma was rather certain her friend would already be there.
It wasn’t quite a dive, suitable for someone that Natasha knew would be dressed up. If anything it was somewhat of a mundane establishment, but decent enough for meeting with other spies. It helped that it was kind of neutral ground. No one would bother them there without invoking the wrath of a thousand spies.
She gestured towards the pretty woman. “Over here.”
Spotting Natasha, she went over to her, a soft smile on her face as she sat down across from her. “This is rather quaint. I like it.” It had a nice atmosphere to it. And for once, Stahma didn’t feel the need to glance over her shoulder every two seconds, wondering if Datak sent another assassin after her. She also knew that with Natasha there, she’d also be very aware of any such potential trouble.
“Luckily it’s not the dive I’ve used before,” Nat replied.Then again, there weren’t many places open this time of morning, but she’d been feeling a little classier. Maybe it was the company. Maybe she ought to keep thinking professionally rather than not. She ordered them some drinks, then settled back in her chair. “How are you feeling, really?”
Stahma could say that she wouldn’t mind a dive, but that wouldn’t be entirely true. While she may be safe from would-be assassins there because they would never expect a person of her caliber to go there, she would undoubtedly be uncomfortable about it. So instead she smiled politely and nodded once.
Though the question got to the heart of the matter, and the smile faded. “I believe disquiet is the closest word to describe it. Conflicted, as well. There is much happening in my dreams and in this world that is making me question much about myself.”
And she wouldn’t fit in. Not fitting in would draw attention. Natasha could draw attention too, but only when she wanted to. She preferred to be just another decoration. “Drink up, I’ll only take advantage a little.” Smirking, she leaned forward. “Pick a place and start.”
Taking the drink, she sipped at it for some moments, trying to find a place to start. “In my dreams, my husband and I are involved in the criminal underworld. We have done many terrible things. Recently, our son was taken prisoner by a band of the Votanis Collective, an alliance of us Votans, in a manner of speaking. The leader hates humans and wants to destroy Defiance, the city we made our home, and he told my husband and I that if we did not do as he said, he would kill our son.” A slightly guilty smile crossed her lips briefly. “We were told to blow up the Arch in town, which we did because it was either that or our son would die. However, Alak escaped, and told the lawkeeper we were the ones to blow up the Arch.”
She paused a moment. “I got away only because Datak distracted them. I only did what I what did in the dreams because I believed I had no other choice. I would do anything to protect my family, even commit an act of terrorism in a place I called home. And now all I can do is think that I do not want to be that woman in this world. I do not wish to be that cold and ruthless, but that is the only life I have ever known. I only know how to manipulate and kill. Change is difficult, and I am certain no one would believe it of me if I said I wanted to change.”
She looked at Natasha then, silently wondering if she believed her or not. While Stahma was a master at lying, she wasn’t lying currently. She knew she couldn’t change completely, but she could at least make some adjustments and not be so ruthless and cold like her dream self.
That was a hell of a place to start. Natasha listened, trying to absorb and catalogue the information in her head so she better understood it. And she wondered what she’d have done differently if she’d been a normal person before her dreams. Probably not become a spy, at any rate. “Change is difficult, but you only have to be that woman if you want to be. For some of us, that’s the only choice we’ll take. But not for everyone. I believe you want to change. And with support, I think you can.”
It wasn’t the best place to start, but Stahma really didn’t want to talk about all the horrible things her dream self had done. She also didn’t want to get into the fact that said Votanis Collective leader had made her kill her daughter-in-law. The choice had been she kill Christie, or he would kill Datak, and even then she’d hesitated until Christie stepped towards Stahma’s blade.
“That is comforting to know that someone does not think I am a lost cause. I have not been a good person in this life either.” Stahma was certain she didn’t have to paint a detailed picture of that for Natasha. She probably already knew what Stahma was linked to, or at least rumored to be linked to. She was a tougher person to directly link to illegal activities because her hand was rarely ever seen. It was her husband’s that was always known because he always made a lot of noise. Stahma was more the whisper in someone’s ear where Datak was the bomb going off in a public square.
“I’m not a good person either. Or I wasn’t. In some ways I’m still not. It’s what you choose to do now that will define you. You have skills, knowledge and contacts. Up until now they’ve made you dangerous.” A smile danced its way across Nat’s face. “They still make you dangerous, but you can turn that on to people that generally deserve it.”
It was almost strange how comfortable she felt around Natasha. Most times when she spoke to anyone other than Nikolai, she tended to speak in vague terms. But Natasha knew the darker side of life, knew the criminal underworld was not a good place, and Stahma was a product of it, and she’d been molded by it. But now she wanted to break that mold, and try to be something else.
“I suppose I am able to turn my knowledge and contacts onto people like my soon-to-be-ex-husband. In a roundabout way, of course.” Stahma wouldn’t openly make such a move against her husband, even if she really wanted to. She wasn’t ready for that kind of war.
“Roundabout is the best way.” Nat wasn’t one for direct confrontations, though sometimes that was required. She wasn’t a soldier, after all. Spy. Assassin. Drawing people into a web and then eliminating them was the way to go. “I won’t ask you to wage any war outside of the shadows.”
“I admit I do not like operating in direct light. I prefer the shadows.” Stahma said with a small smile. The shadows protected her just as much as they hid her secrets. She was a woman who kept her heart and emotions locked inside the most secure vault in the universe. No one other than her truly knew what she held there, what she felt. Sometimes it got incredibly lonely, and others it was a positive. It meant she couldn’t be hurt quite as easily as some would like.
“It’s comfier in the shadows,” Natasha agreed. “It’s where I belong. I feel like I was born there, as much as I was molded for the life.” She’d never been given a choice, and now that she had one she didn’t think she’d ever do anything else.
“There is a comfort to be found in the shadows. Though it is not so easy for me to hide in shadows without this make-up,” Stahma said, making a joke. And obviously referred to her rather white natural appearance. White did not blend so well with shadows.
“There’s tech in my dreams that can help with that. I’ll talk to someone see if they can put something together for us.” There were the SHIELD face masks. There were also things like the holo projectors many had used to disguise themselves. They were particularly common with the mutants.
“Really?” Stahma hadn’t really paid much attention to that sort of thing. She’d gone to what she knew, which was using make-up to cover her appearance. It was intensely frustrating to spend long hours making herself up just to go out, even for the simplest things. So to have something that could cut that time down? She would jump at it. “Would it also be possible to procure one for my son, Alak? He has changed as I have.” She knew Alak took the transformation hard, and perhaps giving him something like this would help ease his own anxiety about it.
“If we can make it work, yes.” That was assuming either idea would work. She’d have to see if Tony could replicate either device. “I can’t guarantee it, but we can at least try.”
When their drinks arrived, finally, Natasha took a long sip of hers. She’d mostly asked Stahma out to spend some time getting to know her. Personally. But she wasn’t sure what to do next.
“I greatly appreciate the attempt. Thank you,” Stahma said with a grateful nod. While she could get by with disguising herself with make-up, it would make things easier if there was a device that could help conceal her appearance. She almost wished that there was an Indogene around Orange County that could build such a device for her.
“Hopefully we luck out,” Natasha would have to send Tony a message then. If anyone in the county could come up with something it would be him. “And I’ll keep it all on the down low, for privacy’s sake.”
“Thank you,” she said with a smile. It was still strange to her to have such an offer of help made without any strings attached for either side. Stahma knew this entire thing would be uncomfortable for her while she tried to better understand herself and try to be a better person. “The culture I am from in my dreams is extremely male-dominated. Women have no rights. My dream self has taken steps to liberate herself, but tradition is everything to the Castithans. In this respect, my dreams have opened my eyes to how much of a pawn I have been to my father, to my soon-to-be ex-husband. Liberating myself from that life is not an easy one.”
The only reason she was even telling any of this to Natasha is because perhaps she could understand. Leaving the life of the bratva behind was no easy task. Though Stahma doubted that she’d ever go truly legitimate. She would probably dabble in illegal things using the connections she’d been making since arriving in America.
It didn’t sound too different from a lot of societies, Russia included. Worse though, Natasha wouldn’t doubt that. No rights vs maybe the appearance of rights, at any rate. “It can’t be easy. It’s all you’ve known. But the dreams kind of give a clearer picture of the way things could be. Otherwise I’d still be with the FSB.” It pained her to admit that. She’d never be able to live a normal life, even if she wanted to.
“It seems we share more in common than one may think. I suppose we both were prisoners, of a sort, to the life we were born into.” Stahma took her drink in hand and sipped at it. “Perhaps it is not too late to try and change.” Though she worried what Nikolai may think of her breaking completely from Moscow. She worried if he still held some higher loyalty to her father than he did to her. But she would never question it, merely wait and see what would happen.
“I find it easy to talk to you, and I am not the type to talk easily. So thank you for being willing to listen.” She tended to keep everything inside. But sometimes she needed to talk to someone else.
“Part of that is I was trained to. Listen, pick up details. You’d think I’d have an easier time dating but my love life is in shambles.” Little jokes to get through the day. Natasha was lonelier than she cared to admit, and while part of her liked it that way part of her also wondered if there was a way to have her cake and eat it too. “But I’m glad I’m easy to talk to.”
“It is amazing what one can learn simply by listening.” Stahma was good at that as well. She liked studying people without them noticing. She’d keep track of what they said, how they said it and how they acted. It was part of what made her so dangerous in her dreams because she could easily determine how to manipulate someone.
“Though I cannot comment on dating. I am divorcing my husband, and a relationship I had outside the marriage dissolved. We are on good terms currently, but it is simply better for them if we are not romantically involved again.” Sort of because Stahma knew Kenya would end up hating her once she dreamt of her death. There was a brief twinge of regret, even sadness and an underlying heartbreak, that passed through her face, but she quickly pushed it back beneath her mask.
Natasha thought of the trail of lovers she’d had in all three of her lives. Dead husband, the whole things with Bucky and Clint and Matt and how none of them ever worked out. There’d been a few women too, in secret. Her KGB masters would have disapproved even more than they would have at Bucky. She shrugged lightly, pretending that none of that mattered or hurt. “We can be single and miserable together.”
Stahma had to chuckle softly. “As they say, misery loves company.” At least in some cases. And in this one, Stahma was actually finding company and someone to talk to being more than helpful and nice for her. Perhaps talking about some of the things that weighed on her wasn’t so bad after all.
“We’re going to need to pick up some rocky road if we keep this up.” At the least, Natasha needed another drink. She nodded her head at Stahma. “Have you given any thought about what to do once all of that is settled?”
“I suppose there are worse things we would need.” Stahma took another drink. “A little, though it is difficult to make a decision. I have working relationships with some organized crime syndicates that have no loyalty to Datak, so I may work up my own business, as it were. Yet there is a part of me that wants to step back from that life entirely. Though we both know such roads are fraught with assassinations and other roadblocks.”
“Either choice could have a similar fate. You have to decide who you want to be, and then be her. The only person who can make that choice is you.” She flagged someone down to get her a refill. “Making your own choices can be a scary thought.”
“It is a frightening thought. I have had less control over my choices in my life than I thought I did. Now that I am here, I am suddenly finding freedoms I never knew before.” Stahma took a breath and looked at Natasha, eyes shifting before her head moved. There was an almost animalistic aspect to the movement. Alien. Considering she was an alien now, perhaps that was to be expected. “Though I am uncertain if I would be able to pass in the world as holding down a job. My skills do not fall into an area that translates into an everyday job.” Nor did someone of her caliber actually work like that.
Something about the movement stirred something in Natasha’s core, and she shifted uncomfortably. It was easier to dismiss it as not liking being the subject of a predator’s gaze when she was the one that was supposed to be the hunter. “As you’ve probably gathered, ‘HR’ is just a cover. But I think we can figure something out for you.”
Stahma was very much a predator. Nolan had compared her to a snake once in the dreams, and he was not wrong. She was a viper, ready to strike a deadly blow when people least expected it. And she was the type to lash out when she was cornered. But in this moment, she was more focused on the strange sort of kinship she found in Natasha. They seemed to have been cut from similar molds. “I would be open to such options.” She would at least hear what was offered. But there was enough talk of that. For now, she wanted the company, and to not feel so alone in everything for a little while.