2015-12-18 Running Wild
This scene is rated Everybody
Warning: N/A
Players: Mike and Natasha
GMed by N/A
Title: Running Wild

On the wall furthest from the entrance is a large window with a dark wooden frame. Large black out curtains hang around them in the open position. On the same side of the window, there is a door which, by all sense of logic, would open to the outdoors if any form of observational sense is used or if one was to compare it to other office layouts. And yet, when you open it, it appears to be a simple closet containing, of all things, sound dampening foam, recording equipment, and other supplies to convert the room into a temporary recording studio when needed.

The furniture inside the room is rather simplistic for something associated with Stark Towers. On the wall, a large square of varied wooden blocks hangs, One section hinges out, revealing it to be a mounted desk while the rest of the wooden segments could be attributed to be cabinets. In the center of the structure, there is a charge port for a smart phone. Next to it, a hinged wood slat hangs, while the opposite side has an unoccupied nail. The missing slat turns out to be a japanese folding chair which is positioned at the desk.

It has been a very busy few months for one Rock/Moviestar/Dream Protecting/Avenger/Sorceror Supreme. With the winter months having arrived. Mike has found himself in the wilds of Canada filming for his latest role, and when he's not doing that, he's having to pop through dimensional portals to deal with cleaning up messes stemmed from the demon Infest encounters, then there is training, both for himself and for others, patroling, more patroling, Charity appearances, and well… Mike hasn't had much down time, nor does he seem to pop into the building save for what training he has here and to sleep. So the faint sounds of guitar strumming from Mike's office is rare. Rare indeed.

Seated on one of the fold out seats, Mike is quietly seated, looking a little worse for wear, bandage peeking out from the neckhole of his shirt. Hair a wind swept mess. If it wasn't for the playing, he'd look like he was sleeping sitting up. Yes. It's been a long few months.

Natasha was passing by the office door with a hot cup of tea held up between her hands, she'd not slept all night as she'd been dealing with action and reaction plans for the arrival of the Sentinel patrols… they had kidnapped mutants off the street, and Natasha personally felt obligated to get those innocent people back, she was just being stopped by higher-ups…

When the sounds of the guitar strumming caught her attention she paused at Mike's door, turned toward and then knocked. "Mike?" She called out, her husky voice unmistakable for anyone else's "You making a random sudden appearance?" She asked the doorway, knowing that if he were in there he'd be able to hear her.

The fingers plucking at the strings stop, allowing for the lastly touched notes to vibrate to a slow, unaided death. Tired, pale eyes open, blinking a few times as they are directed towards the door, "Nat?" He pauses, shaking his head as he gets up from his seat. Of course it's Natasha. He moves towards the door to open it, not even bothering to smoosh the hair back down to something more presentable.

Natasha was indeed on the other side of it, her own hair was perfectly kept and in large red curls that went down to the tops of her shoulders. She was wearing a red turtleneck sweater and some black slacks with black simple leather shoes. She tluched that tea-cup between her hands and smirked at his appearance. "Hey there, bedhead." She told him. "Haven't seen you in awhile… Everything okay?" She asked him, her curious green eyes going to look inside of his office to see if she could catch any juicy details as to what he'd been up too lately, but it looked like your standard boring old office… as far as she could tell at least.

Mike tilts his head, looking to Natasha's face. A slight, tired smile forming in compliment to the already exhausted features. He gives a slight nod, swinging the door open a bit more to allow Natasha plenty of time to look at the sparsely furnished office. One folding chair out, the other one still folded up like a piece of artwork on the wall next to the hanging table that is also folded up. The office is abnormally chilly considering the heating bill for the building is being paid for by one of the world's richest people. There is even the slightest whiff of - snowy pine in the room. The musician moves over to the abnormally placed, partially ajar closet door. Shutting it before opening it again, revealing a closet full of music equipment and a guitar stand. He sets the guitar down before closing the door again. The chilly, fragrant air starts to dissipate. "Things have been busy." He answers, "I've been having to do a lot of business related travel. Had to pop on by for a bit of a mental break."

When Mike went for that closet door, Natasha took a few steps into the room to look around a little more thoroughly, she smirked at the sight of all the musical equipment in the closet and took a sip of her tea while he spoke. "I haven't been able to keep up with the pop culture scene as of late." She replied to him then. "Film anything with George Clooney yet? You know how much I want hsi auto-graph, among other things." She told him with a slight hint of a grin before she went to one of those chairs to sit herself down in it. She swept her eyes around agin, half expecting there to be an Asgardian Prince in here causing trouble, or some other such… as that sort of thing liked to follow Mike around.

"I'll keep that in mind." Mike replies, "But, no. I haven't directly worked with him yet. I'd say we do different genres but even he had his fill of vampire movies." Closet door closed, he turns, letting Natasha take the only chair that's set up as a chair. Not making the move to take the other one off the wall. "I did remember to get in practice with the Escrima." He offers up, "…although I did have to miss a couple to deal with things that came up." He shrugs slightly, only to grimace in regret of the movement decision. He shakes his head, "So. What's been going on around here?"

"The usual." Natasha replied after listening to him, smiling knowingly. "You should let me get you some nicer furniture in here. This looks like a gym teacher's office from a junior highschool." She teased him as she took another sip of her tea. "But yes, Sentinels are roaming the streets, stealing people off the sidewalks. There are reports of heavy Asgard traffic as well, and that they're also targetting mutants. So… we really could use some of that voodoo that you do so well. If you ever free up that schedule of yours."

"My office serves multiple functions." Mike replies, shaking his head, "Bulky furniture will kill the acoustics when I need to convert this room into a recording area for sampling purposes." He frowns, considering the talk of Sentinels and Asgardians. "My absences from the area haven't all been entirely of the earthbound nature. Tht things that go on concerning earth is just." He pauses, bringing a hand up to rub at his temple, "… I'll have to definitely pencil that in." He arches a brow, "Are they only hitting the New York area? I haven't heard anything from the network about them causing problems elsewhere."

"New York, up toward Boston." Natasha replied to him then and released a soft exhale. "I haven't heard, nor seen a peep from Loki. I was wondering if perhaps you had… He'd be rather invaluable in supplying us with a little bit of insight as to what in the hell is going on. It may not be any coincidence that the Sentinel parols are going on, as well as some sort of Asguardian inclusion in this anti-mutant play." She lightly shook her head then. "People might be dying, innocent people who're just trying to enjoy their lives. Not all mutants are monsters, as you're well aware of."

Mike arches a brow, "I'll see about talking with Loki. Maybe see if we can get a discussion going on to find out what's driving the Asgardians. Could well be a misunderstanding that needs to be talked out or a rogue faction." He shakes his head, "And we have people getting snatched off the streets by sentinels… Fantastic. I'm still having to play politics to fix stuff from all that Demon Infest crap."

Natasha gave him a grin then and she nodded her head a single time. "This is what happens when you land yourself into a pool of great and wonderous powers, Mike." She tells him. "You get yourself all kinds of great and wonderous jobs." She stood up from that uncomfortable single chair in his office then and she took another sip from her tea. "Otherwise, things have been pretty quiet around here, if that offers you any comfort." She said, turning toward the door way. Natasha was always on the move, rarely taking time to sit for long.

"Oh ok. Other than another dimensional group popping over here to cause problems and people going missing. Everything's calm." Mike sums up what Nat just said, voice tinged with a forced cheerfulness that soon turns into a heavy Irish tone, "Bleedin' perfect." He sweeps an arm over, hooking the back of the now unoccupied chair, folding it in a swift motion before hanging it up on the wall. Oh look! Art! "Strange better finish with the healing and dive back in the damn pool soon. My arms are getting tired swimming in this."

Natasha paused near the doorway and turned around to face him again, holding her cup near her chest. She exhaled heavily. "Yeah… I think that just about sums up all of us, however." She told him. "But hey, at least its better than just sitting around watching tv all day, right?" She asked with a slight grin.

Mike cracks a smile at that, "What a ray of sunshine you're turning out to be. I'll take that consolation and run with it."

Natasha flashed him a larger grin then. "I'll be in my office, you know… the one with the comfy furniture and the closet filled with awesome clothing rather than awesome band equipment." She teased him lightly in a dry tone of voice before she stepped out of his doorway, but left the door open.

Mike's smile lingers as he watches Natasha heading out. When she is a fair enough distance away, he turns to walk towards the closet door. A cold, pine fresh breeze escapes from the office before being magicked away, along with the office owner as the door paps shut.


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