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The bus was late. Actually, it broke down, and the next bus wasn't leaving until first thing in the morning, and then that bus had more mechanical issues, and a trip that should have taken maybe a couple hours at most took overnight and another six. So Ava is a little bit cranky as she hauls a gym bag as big as she is along the sidewalk. She's not in a hurry to get home, really. The basement of the YMCA isn't in the best part of town. In fact, it's in one of the parts of town currently experiencing some issues with monster infestations, so. No rush.
"Sorry. 'Scuse me. Pardon me. Seriously, I'm walking here!" she calls over her shoulder as one man in a suit practically bowls her over. Too bad for him. She came away with a wallet, which goes into the gym bag. Jerk tax.
*
Walking on the streets with the peasants has a grating effect on Victor Von Doom. With several of his bodyguards (aka sycophants) in tow, Von Doom has taken to the streets off of Embassy row in pursuit of something of utmost importance.
Adjacent to Ava, he reaches towards the man in the suit who had, rather rudely, bowled her over. "You there," Victor states coolly, "you owe this woman an apology." Evidently manners haven't totally vanished in Midtown. His eyebrows lift expectantly and his arms extend as the man sneers and attempts to quicken his steps. Victor sneers. "Americans and their blasted manners." He looks over towards Ava and chivalrously offers a hand, "Do allow me to apologize on behalf of my sex. And do not fret, mystics have long argued that retribution comes to such petulance."
*
"Sometimes faster than you think," Ava smiles faintly back at Doom, shifting the bag on her shoulder to free up a hand long enough for a polite shake. "S'okay, it's New York. Everyone's in a hurry." As soon as she has her hand back and reaches for the strap on the bag again, moving it to her other shoulder as she instinctively takes a count of the bodyguards. That one, just a little too far back. The other would be in his way if there was a real threat. Not her problem, though. "Thanks, though. It's a nice thought."
*
"Of course," Victor replies with a nearly-charming smile. "There is no reason to thank me, just the imminently important business of carrying and conducting oneself in polite society. Clearly New Yorkers require lessons in propriety." His eyes turn towards her bag. "Of course, lightening the man of whatever burden he may have bore should, essentially, transform the nature of any karmic retribution he may have incurred."
Lightly, he clasps his hands behind his back.
*
"Too bad he didn't come back to make that apology, huh?" If he saw Ava lift the wallet, then there's no sense in denying it, but she's not going to admit to it, either. "In my experience, there's no higher power going around handing out balance. You want to even things out, then you've got to go out and do it yourself." Her smile slips crooked. "For example, this," she hefts the bag, "Is a donation of fencing equipment for the YMCA over by Hell's Kitchen. Once I get there."
*
"Brilliant example of creating balance," Victor muses. "And, perhaps, one of the most insightful I have heard from someone on this side of the Atlantic." His fingers stroke his chin thoughtfully. He actually emits a soft chuckle at the notion of the donation, "Is that intended to allay or sway any other offence you have committed, madam?" His eyebrow quirks and his hands tighten behind his back. "You do a good deed to buy an ill one? Is that how your philosophy works? The wonders of you people," the words drip with disdain.
*
It's the tone of Ava's voice that draws Peggy's attention more than anything. Even after all these years, she knows that tone. That timbre. Having just stepped out of Macy's with a bag of clothing in her hand that she doesn't look particularly thrilled about having bought, the middle aged Director arches a brow to hear those words. She says nothing, but she slows down her steps, coming a bit closer to the younger woman and observing the scene with thoughtful, slightly narrowed dark eyes. She definitely looks older than the last time Ava saw her — gray at her temples, lines around her eyes; and a bit softer around the waist as well, but otherwise Peggy Carter is hard to miss. Even in a crowd.
*
"Not really. They give me a place to stay, I run errands for them, like picking up donations. That's more of a job and less of a moral philosophy. Sort of. Jobs usually involve taxes, and payroll, and…" Ava trails off with a sigh, looking to the bodyguards again. "And you've probably got someone who handles all that for you and know more about how it actually works than I do. Believing things can be fair is for kids. And equal isn't the same as fair. Doesn't mean we don't all want a little bit of-"
And that's when she catches sight of Peggy Carter through the crowds, and starts to take another few steps down the sidewalk, circling just enough to put one of the bodyguards between their sightline. "Can't make the world perfect, right?"
*
Victor's arms drop to his side and he looks towards the woman who now seems to be retreating. "You cannot leave," he states blandly towards Ava. "Not until I have ascertained whether or not your retribution was warranted," his eyes flit towards her bag. He either knows Ava stole the wallet or is making some strange comment about her fashion choices — whichever may be the case suggests he's not likely to let her retreat easily.
"That is, unless this is about revenge rather than balance." He lifts a single hand. "In that case, I have little to offer on the matter. Revenge should always outweigh the original offence. Lest it become tainted and mistaken for justice."
*
Of course, Ava has already been spotted. Peggy is too observant to miss someone just by line of sight — it was a voice that caught her ear in the first place. Now she's hanging onto the words, double confirming she heard what she thought she did, but also drinking in the conversation. The discussion about retribution, balance, the like… Especially from the man surrounded by guards, that draws a slightly deeper worried line to her brow. Every detail about this scene is making her more worried. So, she shifts the bag of clothes onto her arm, almost near her elbow, leaving free both hands if she needs to do something. Then she walks closer.
A quick, high heeled step around the guard towards Ava's side, the older woman gives her a line of lips and a slight gaze. "Young lady… I wondered where you got off to." Peggy states in a tone that would imply she's a boss, mother, or older figure in the girl's life. It's slightly chastizing, but also a tone which SHOULD give Ava an escape, if she'd wish to escape the conversation under the guise of going somewhere with Peggy.
*
"I can leave," Ava notes, raising a finger to Doom with a flicker of a smile. "But I'd probably have to drop the bag to do it, and if you'd seen the fencing equipment at the Y right now, you'd understand why that's not going to happen. Revenge implies way more thought than goes into bumping into someone, though. Revenge involves planning. Honestly, balance even implies more thought. Call it opportunistic karmic adjustment. Wasn't planning on doing anything, but…"
Which is right about when Peggy shows up and her jaw sets as she takes another step back. "Had a job. Figured you could try and find me if you wanted to." What with the intelligence organization and all.
*
Victor's eyes narrow at Ava, "I highly doubt that. Few can surpass the talents of my company," his hand slowly extends towards his guard. "In my time as Latveria's sole guardian," because all roads eventually lead to the country he considers so grand, "I have seen one completely incapacitate even one of my most trusted aides." His smile tightens.
The explanation, however, seems to yield different results. "Opportunistic karmic adjustment. Well. I can certainly understand that. Opportunity presented, karma suggested some semblance of balance was necessary, and you took life as you would."
Peggy earns a small frown, but Victor stands his ground. He stares openly at her. "Your friend was engaging in — " he smirks " — opportunistic karmic adjustment."
*
The older woman surveys Victor for a heartbeat or two. She has dark eyes that can pick apart a situation like a crime scene within a few seconds. A gaze for even the smallest of details, lips pressing a heartbeat or two, her head tilting to the side. Whatever she finds in the man, she files away for later but gives a simple nod, "We all need hobbies." Her British accent clips out quietly, as flat and deadpan as can be. Then Peggy is looking back at Ava.
"Well, if you are done with your job…and opportunism, I can give you a ride where ever you are going, at least. I have a car just down the block." Peggy offers. It's not an order, or something meant to make Ava feel trapped. But if the woman wants out of the situation, Peggy is, at least, giving her a nice chance of freedom.
*
Ava's nose twitches as Victor extols the virtues of his guards, casting a sidelong glance at Peggy. Seriously, can't he see that they're way out of formation for optimal coverage? That one's gun is going to get caught on his jacket if he tries to draw it. She shouldn't say that out loud. But she wants to.
"I can make it, thanks," she shakes her head to Peggy, switching her bag back to the other shoulder again. "Besides, I'm not in a hurry. The sooner I get back, the sooner I find out of some sort of creature from the black lagoon's moved into the basement in my place. It'd probably be at home there."
*
Victor suddenly turns on his heel as he announces, "This peasantry has worked my last nerve. Let us return home where we can extol the virtues of other, more sound occupations — wherein no one has to engage in adjustment of any kind. Karmic or otherwise." His guards turn as he does and follow him down the road towards the embassy.
*
The dark haired woman relaxes a bit as the pompous man finally turns to take off. She sighs, reaching into her pocket. "…I realize… you can take care of yourself. And you probably don't wish to come to the office. You are also no prisoner here. You never were. But… don't be a stranger, alright? I…I've worried." And with that, Peggy reaches her hand forward, slipping one of her business cards into Ava's palm, if the woman will take it. A press of her hand and worried eyes, then she's letting go and turns back aeay to her car. She doesn't wish Ava to feel trapped, so she gives the woman her space. Worried or not.
*
The temptation to trip up one of the guards is oh so strong. But Ava really doesn't need to draw attention, especially with Peggy right there. So while she's watching after the peculiar man and his guards, Peggy's able to slip a card into her hand and slip away before she truly realizes what's there. Afterwards, she gives it a long look. It might be nice to make a slightly bigger difference. Maybe.
Hefting the bag of equipment, she starts back down the sidewalk. She'll check out the wallet when she gets back to her place. And the license will probably make it back to its owner.
*