2020-01-28 - Lunch on a Bet


Some cash won out of a bet goes right back into covering most of a lunch.

Log Info:

Storyteller: None
Date: Tue Jan 28 00:00:00 2020
Location: RP Room 4

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Theme Song



Leaning back in her chair, Posse sips lightly from her water while scanning her menu thoughtfully. "Anything catching your eye?" she asks over the top edge to the albino seated across from her.

Sat together at a two-person table by the wall, the room's decor is simple but bright, with plain wooden furniture beneath suspended lights and colorful nature art hung beneath a trim of vines that spans the width of the dining area. The smells of hot rye bread, sunflower oil, and meat hang in the air to whet the appetite, and although it's adopted a more cosmopolitan appearance since it was founded, the restaurant's menu remains passionately Russian.


"There's some definite consideration happening" the ghost of a face replies while looking right over the top of her menu to the cyborg sitting across from her. In another moment those dark set pale blue eyes with the strange metallic sheen flick back down to the menu, the albino having already hooked several pages with her fingertips.

Since the killhouse Neena's appearance had changed quite a bit, layering more typical civvie clothes on over her black second skin with the combat harness left behind in the Jeep. She at least looks passingly 'normal' for the lunch hour.

"The Russkies make some damn good meals but it's something of a novelty to find a place where I'm not already being hun..g…over at the time" she suggests with an artful catch.

"Porridge is a staple, just ask for the kasha and you'll get whatever's on tap today. But some of the meat dishes you can't go wrong with and you don't strike me as the vegetarian sort. If you're one for dumplings then go with the pelmeni. Bonus points with horseradish. Kotlety's quick and easy, really just fried meatballs which to me wholly counts as a comfort food."

And..of course..there are the drinks. Why start with anything less than the vodka.


Posse's eye catches the light as she looks over when Neena hitches in speech. An unseen smile curls her lips as the vet turns her attention back to her menu. "Good intel. I'll bet you're… hung over all the time," she agrees, and mimics the pause back. "State-side or do you only do that when you're international on work?"

"I'll go for kotlet, or maybe a meat pelmeni. Meat pelmen?" The white-haired American considers after a pause and reads her way further down. "What about sides?"


Dom dips her head with a subtle cough, muttering "Once in a while" in a way which is pretty darn truthful! Lowering the menu a little her attention goes back to Posse, an idly amused smirk settling into place. "Sometimes I wonder if you're only into me because of my line of work, Ave. Did you ever stop to think that maybe it's because I'm at least a -little- cultured?"

Nodding once, Whitey says "I was going for the pelmeni. We can have a sampling session. Sides..oh, there's something called an Olivier salad which is way better than it sounds. Traditionally it's more of a New Year dish but screw waiting that long. Egg, carrot, potato, meat, pickle and pea. There's also soups and salads, if you're into that sorta thing. I don't get fancy with it, the stuff all falls past the same event horizon."

Flipping the menu closed and setting it aside Neena makes a show of lacing her fingers together and grinning like a fiend at the cyborg. "So. Three hundred Blackout. You an early adopter or did you wait for the public beta-test?"


"Nah, pretty sure it's that tight a** you're sitting on," Posse smirks flippantly as she sets her own menu atop Neena's, nudging it with her thumb so they line up neatly. "Pelmeni sampler with salad Olivier. Copy that."

The mercenary's posture is met by a slight up-turn of the chin as the cyborg folds her hands atop each other and rests them on the edge of the table. "You recognize the sound? I could have sworn I was shooting cold 5.56 today…"


Dom's amused grin grows. "Glad to know you can keep it together when the lead starts flying."

"The sound's an easy one. If you're running sub-five NATO you'll have to mess around with the buffer to keep her reliable. A fiver doesn't put thirty cal holes in paper, either. Oh, and you were chucking brass at me a couple of times. Fun occupational hazard."

When the waitress shows up Neena runs through the entire order in what sure comes across as fluent Russian, lending further credit to the idea of her having dealings with such people on several occasions.

With the order placed she leans back and subtly wraps both arms around herself, not entirely suppressing a shiver. Maybe because she isn't wearing a hat indoors. "We've established that you rock the shit out of Armalites and you've got some sharpshooter shinies in your saladbowl. What else do you run?"


"Well I was aiming for your neckline - wanted to see if I could make you dance for me," Posse replies with a smile that is anything but innocent, but probably not serious either. She leans back again in her chair as Domino begins her order and the cyborg's snowy brow rises in surprise at the exchange.

"I'm assumin' that was food for both of us. And what's with the shiver - I thought Russians liked the cold," she chuckles as she finds another angle to tease from, then grabs her drink for another sip. Only after she's quenched her thirst does she get to Neena's question. "Most whatever I can get m'hands on, but it depends on the job. Big and loud, small and cheap, spitzer .308, niner HP… Whisper might be my favorite. I can go close and quiet or long and hard with a mag change."


"The ol' Hot Brass Tango," Neena laughs. "I'm sure a couple of these scars are from ejection kisses. You really want to see me dance just put me back in a live fire scenario where the targets are shooting back."

Food for them both? "You looked so content with your water there, I didn't want to spoil your evening" she kids.

Fingers fan away from her biceps when she jokes "I'm more drawn to cold blood and cold drinks than cold weather." That said she's once again eager to set the subject aside and return the focus of their discussion on Ava, herself.

"An omni-shooter. Why am I not surprised. Though… Hah!" She leans closer, grinning like a fiend. "You don't exactly present yourself as the silent and sneaky sort in your half a ton of power armor, Anodyne. Not that I'm knockin' the three hundreds but you strike me as a three-oh-eight powerhouse any day of the week. At what point does the stealthy kill approach come around in your line of duty?"


Ava grins dryly as Neena teases back at her drink and the water is lifted and given a light shake, allowing the ice in it to clink together. "You can have some if you want to cool off a little more."

"They both neutralize just fine so why over-penetrate and make the room a f*' echo chamber?" she offers in counterpoint. "And you've gotta' admit, there's something sexy about shootin' off a carbine with stopping power and not needing ear-pro."


At the offer to cool down Dom's brows rise in unison. "Ah hah. Funny. I see what you did there."

The points made in regard to the caliber are given a thoughtful nod. "You've given your tactics some honest thought. I'll salute that. There is something sexy about it, though to be fair I wasn't spending a lot of time thinking about your direct impingement friend."

The albino sits back with arms still folded together for warmth, giving the other lady a dead level stare as the dim light seems to glow within her eyes.

"Y'know. I didn't expect us to be having much conversation over a semi-fancy meal. Must have been a good range session."


"We are eating on someone else's money," Posse reminds smugly. "And I'd be pretty s* if I didn't." The cyborg's eyes lid just slightly as she cocks her head to one side and unfolds one arm to rest her cheek on her her metal knuckles. "I was expecting a Sig or shiny Ruger out of you. What were those punk rockers you were swinging around?" She can't help but snicker slightly as she adds, "And what the ** was that combat roll reload behind the table?"


"I woulda spent it all on beer," Neena admits in a somewhat muted tone. Whatever might had been nagging at the back of her mind a moment ago seems to be set aside for now. Leave it to talking about guns to help get her back on course.

"Sometimes you need to stab a fool," she suggests with an idle smile. "Slightly different set of rules with akimbo CQB. If the guns run out there isn't time to swap out or mag change. When you're being charged by a guy with a cue stick or a machete you need to have some way to respond. Plain handguards don't grab as well but once I saw those steel spike lugnuts some truckers slap onto their rigs I knew I had a winner."

As far as the roll and reload she feigns innocence while reaching for her glass of water, offering a soft "Mmh?" before answering with a question of her own. "Isn't that what you're supposed to do?"

The next deflection comes with the arrival of their food. Much to Dom's appreciation the hot plates are putting off healthy amounts of steam.


The skepticism in Ava's green eyes says it all as she chuckles dryly. "Oh yeah, first chapter in FM Pistols: the Hollywood f***ing dual-wield." The vet's gaze cools and pierces into Neena with the resting intensity that so often peeks out of her expression, only to flit away to the server coming down their aisle.

"Saved by the chow. You are lucky," she laughs quietly to herself as attention turns to the plates set between them.


For a time it comes down to a staring competition. Between these two the world could end and be reborn before either of them cracked. Neena can be stubborn at an Olympic level, though the hint of a smirk she wears might even suggest that she -enjoys- the moment.

The only words Ava's going to get from her in the exchange is "You have pretty eyes."

Then comes the food and her grin grows enough to show some teeth. "You love it." Following this comment is a plate full of what sure looks like dumplings, slid a bit closer to Posse's spot across the table. "You'll also love the pelmeni."


Ava smiles, more honestly and less jokingly as the comment earns Domino her eyes again even as her hands go for her utensils. "Thanks. They always made me pretty ing exotic, like that Afghan on Time magazine. You're one to talk…" she mutters spearing the nearest pelmeni and nipping off its edge to check the temperature. The olive-skinned woman sips a little water in after it to cool her mouth, then pops the whole pelmen in afterwards. The mercenary now has deep-fried competition for her attention.


"Exotic is good" Neena smoothly replies. "Though I get the feeling you already share my appreciation for it."

Sure enough, saying 'you're one to talk' causes her focus to break from Ava to look first upward then off to one side. Maybe it's a touchy subject for her.

Such food-based competition won't last. If it takes some of the attention -away- from Neena then so much the better! Her attention goes to the plate full of what looks more like meatballs to start.

"Anything new and exciting planned with your crew? Got any interesting busts cued up?" As if she could talk about them if there were any.


Ava's style of drinking and eating together continues with her second pelmen before the white-haired officer tries a spoonful of Olivier salad. Her brow lifts at the peculiar taste but a second and then third spoonful assures it's not altogether unwelcome. If Neena is hoping for a companion to share a sedate and protracted lunch with, she may have the wrong woman at her table.

"Nothing so high-speed. You?" Ava answers between bites.


Sedate gets boring, anyway. More, Neena was curious about trying to gather some potential intel since Posse here -does- work on the other side of the law. Get her a little distracted, put her mind in a happy place, buuut… No results this time.

"Just another leaf on the wind" she replies with the same level of vagueness.

If this is where the conversation ends it won't concern the pale merc any, though if Ava's paying attention she may notice Dom keeping pretty close tabs of their surroundings on the sly. It's a little more than being aware of their environment. Almost as if she's expecting some trouble?


As much as she's favoring her food over the merc, Posse's own attention hasn't completely left the room around them. The pair might as well be crows on a rooftop for the little clinks of cutlery and random bumps that make the background noise of any active restaurant. Whether she has more to say or not, the operator's priority remains emptying the plates in front of her - a task she is alarmingly proficient at without even seeming to try.

"Clear?" is all that eeks out, in the same casual tone they were just conversing. There's even a ghost of a smile on Ava's lips if the merc looks closely… or perhaps just a smear of mayonnaise.'


It's just one word. An innocent question. It's still enough to bring Dom's attention jumping right back to Ava, stoic but still acting like someone who had just been caught in the act. "You never can be too careful with this lot" she suggests with a thin smile soon following. There's a fair bit of weight behind her actions, though. Like she's played with this kind of fire a few too many times already.

At least eating isn't any problem. Just like with Ava Neena eats like a soldier with only marginally more patience and awareness to appreciate what's getting thrown into her stomach.


It's a tragedy for the cooks but soon afterwards Ava has her food reduced to bare stubble. Only then does she lean back in her chair with a warm, pleasant sigh and look back up at Domino, returning her attention at last from food back to woman. Sated and warmed by the food, her eyes are just slightly glossy with the torpor that follows a heavy meal. "You picked a good place," she praises.


The destruction of lunch is a team effort, both a coordinated and vicious attack no longer hindered by such pleasantries as conversation or wine-sipping. Because of this Neena's mind is put a little more at ease. Where before she could have questioned whether this had entered proper date territory, now it feels like a couple of soldiers at the chow table.

"I have my moments" she thinks aloud, gently bobbing her head as if to agree with herself. "Next time we should up the ante to a solid Benny and really go hog wild."


"Heh, then we'd scare 'em off. If ya make the trap too big no one wanders in," Posse cautions with a grin. "You know damn well no one at that range would try either of us with good intel."


Dom starts to say "Oh?" like she really has no idea what Posse is talking about when she promptly gives her head a little shake. "Right. Of course. Maybe fifty. Of course, they'd still need the intel. I don't know about you but I'm not about to squeal."

Whatever their free twenty doesn't cover she'll take care of, it's not any big expense.

"Alright, cyberchick. Had enough excitement for one day or do you want to take this show on the road?"


Ava grins and her eyes lid tellingly at the mention of 'squeal'. The hard-charging cyborg leaves her comment unspoken.

"I'm okay to stay here and chat our food down, unless you want to park your car somewhere with good concealment…" she hints with a glance towards the door.


When Ava's eyes lid Neena amends her previous remark with "Present company excluded."

The bit which she isn't sure what to do with is the offer to sit and talk for a while. For a few seconds the albino merely sits there and looks at Ava with some amusement present upon her features. "In case it requires pointing out… Neither of us are big talkers. Unless you have something on your mind I have a lovely view and a very active imagination."


Ava's snowy brow lifts at the notion and another smile graces her lips as she picks at the last of her food, now out of habit rather than hunger. "What's it doing to me now?" she prods, holding eye contact.


A dark, devious smile begins to grow. "Nothing which should be mentioned in polite conversation or public spaces. C'mon, let's get out of here."


Almost as quickly as Neena makes the offer, Ava rises from her chair and gathers her dishes in hand. "Roger that. I'll take point this time," she accepts all too willingly, while dropping a coy wink in passing.


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