1964-10-22 - Coming Home?
Summary: Having had some time to regather her thoughts, Black Widow presses on Winter Soldier to come back with her to their motherland. Winter Soldier doesn't seem too keen, in turn the Widow plans her next moves. Tigra and Hellboy prove there's more than just spycraft in the world today.
Related: If there are no related logs, put 'None', — please don't leave blank!
Theme Song: None
hellboy black-widow tigra bucky 

It's been a while since she last visited the Lux, but here she is again, 'Jeanne Marceau', blonde hair, blue eyes, a very notable short skirt and floral airy top. She heads directly for the bar, sits patiently, and waits to be approached by wouldbe Jack. Tapping her red polished nails across the bar counter while she waits.

He was in the back, but he comes out, drying his hands on a cloth. Buck's in a dress shirt and pants, no suit jacket today at least; his hair's tied back, low at his nape. He blinks when he spots 'Jeanne' but doesn't seem dismayed. He ambles over to her and asks, in English, "Good to see you again. What'll you have?" A beat, and he drops into French. «An unexpected pleasure. Have your travels been fruitful?»

"A White Russian," Jeanne orders without missing a bit, looking directly at Jack as she makes her allusion to the Russian Winter. "I've been thinking," her French lilt is back as she doesn't break character one bit this time around, having already been caught off guard before, "you ever get vacation days? I'd love to go on a vacation with you, Jack, somewhere far from medieval instruments and foolish people." She smirks at the question in French, and replies in kind, «I was thinking to save a trip, and book a flight or boat for two…I mean you want to go back home, don't you?»

Event as he's putting together the drink, he notes, with deliberate casualness. "No, no paid time off. And in fact, I just got another job. One I've been interested in for quite a while now." There's the chime of ice in the glass. «Not right now. I finally got an in on that job I've been gunning for. I can't afford to leave now, I'll miss my chance.»

New York's a cosmopolitan place, but even here there are those places that are more…varied than others, and of course this is one. Enough so that Tigra feels comfortable entering as herself, wearing a backless white dress that reaches her knees, tailored for her tail. She makes her way to the bar to start with, sliding into a seat not far from "Jeanne." Somehow she pretends not to recognize Bucky, but at his appearance, the tip of her tail dances a little twitch. "Rum and Coke, please," she asks.

"Really…? Same business?" Jeanne asks with utmost interest, although Jack might catch the very judgemental understone of her statement. The man is openly choosing to remain in captivity when offered an out? Very strange indeed. When Tigra enters, flaunting her tail as it were, Jeanne is entirely distracted by her, "oh my, you get all sorts at the Lux, huh?" She doesn't sound so much opposed to Tigra's kind, as much as having her first real life encounter with a mutant, or whatever it is they are called.

"With far more options than before. Finally a full member, you know?" He barely manages to not look exasperated. Then he grins at Tigra, as she comes in. Grateful for her indulging him, though it's more or less an open secret in Lux who 'Jack' really is, by this point. "We welcome all kinds, so long as they behave," he asides to Jeanne, as he mixes the rum and coke.

Tigra slides gracefully onto a barstool, waiting as her drink is mixed. "Wouldn't stop me, even if they didn't," she says with a slight smile. "Best way to have a cat somewhere is to tell her she's not wanted, after all." She says nuzzink about behaving.

"What if someone is occasionally known to misbehave?" Jeanne poses a question in a tone that cannot be anything but flirtatious, as she reaches for her drink and takes a long sip. "Mmmmm…you've gotten quite skilled," she mouths, savoring the taste. Jeanne does raise her glass at Tigra's reply, "well played."

"Depends on the misbehavior," he says. "Some kinds are tolerated….but basically, if you're disturbing other guests or causing trouble, out you go. I do man the door, too, when it's needed." Though he's nowhere near as big as the usual bouncer, is he?

Tigra sits at the bar, near "Jeanne Marceu," who has blond hair and blue eyes, and with a certain gentleman serving as bartender. She takes a sip of her drink. "So if you're going to misbehave, be sure to do it in the right way. The wrong way gets punished, but the right misbehavior can be rewarded. So confusing," she says, again with a grin.

"And if I disturb an employee…?" Jeanne continues to press on, batting her eyes at Jack, as she drinks the rest of her drink. Looking aside at Tigra, she nods, "that is entirely the idea, getting the reward, no?"

Someone really should introduce Hellboy to the idea of a shirt. The bare chest of the massive demon is at least covered partially with the duster that he wears. And hey. Pants and boots. Even if the cloven feet and large tail swish behind him. "Uncle Jack! The usual!" he calls out, cigar sticking out the side of his mouth as he gives it a puff and takes a look at the others in the bar, then takes in the two girls. "What, impromptu ladies night?"

"Again, it depends. The boss here is very protective of his staff." To the point of unleashing actual hellfire, or doing some proactive occult psychiatry. There's a significant portion of his programming that's in smoking ruins, courtesy of Lucian.

HE sets the drink down in front of Tigra, but before he can ask her if she'd like anything more, there's Hellboy. Buck's face lights up. "Red," he says, with clear pleasure. "Hey. No allergies tonight, huh?" Lucian, angel, Hellboy, part demon….the reactions in the latter aren't much fun.

"I feel like I should say something about one person's reward being another's punishment, but I think it's starting to stretch things a tad," Tigra says. She glances over her shoulder at the call for 'Uncle Jack,' and despite herself, can't help but do a double take at what's approaching. "Certainly nothing promptu, at least," she answers him, before adding, "The best bosses -are- protective."

"Jack here has a penchant for drawing out the ladies, non?" Jeanne tells Hellboy, looking a bit surprised by his looks, as she quips to Jack, "as you said, all sorts." Her accent is a Parisian French. Looking from Tigra back to Jack, Jeanne giggles, "funny you should say that, I was thinking the same," she reaches for her purse, puts a few bills to cover her drink on the counter and reaches for her compact next. While studying her complexion, she whispers, "I'm afraid I'll have to go, there's more sites to see, and my vacation in New York is running short." She looks once more at Jack from over her compact, before snapping it shut, "we'll meet again, won't we, Jack?" She blows him a lively kiss, before getting up to leave, "I'll be seeing you…" and with that she heads for the door.

"As long as the boss ain't around, ain't got allergies to worry about." And hey, you know, Hellboy is hellfire. Supposedly. The demon gives a grin at the blonde, though he does a slightly longer draw at the girl in cat fur, though it's almost as much her beauty - as much as the magical aura that the woman gives off that attracts the half-demon's gaze towards her. Sidling up to the bar, he waits for his own drink, taking out his wallet to settle his tab early. Though as the blonde gets up to leave, Red watches her before his attention shifts to Jack questioningly. A certain blonde has been mentioned before.

"Fair enough," For all he knows, Lucian leaves angel dander all over the place. He's seen the wings, after all. Buck watches Jeanne go with a chagrined expression. More talk later, apparently - the balancing act is getting harder to maintain, and it'l lbe sooner rather than later when he falls off the beam. He nods at Tigra,s solemnly. "Yeah. And the boss I work for is real good. It's a nice place to work."

"Certainly all sorts," Tigra quietly agrees to Jeanne. Hearing the whisper is no challenge for her, but she doesn't respond to it or comment on it. She grins a bit at the blown kiss, turns to watch Jeanne's departure, and then back the otherway to look to 'Red.' "Shellfish allergies?" she asks calmly, as if this was the most mundane thing in the world. It's difficult to miss 'Jack's' expression. "Sorry if I intruded," she offers.

"Allergy to blondes." Red offers with a grin towards Tigra as he nods to Bucky. "You got that handled?" he asks, before smirking. Isn't any angel crabs or lice around either. No telling what those darn angels pick up flying around. Usually wayward sinners. Those are the worst. Glancing to Tigra, he gives a bit more of a smile. "Hellboy, folks usually call me Red though."

His lips still have that wry twist to them. "Much as I can, right now. I'll track her down later." Buck looks nowhere near as happy as he should at that prospect. Then he glances back to Tigra, brows up. "Nah, not at all. Lady who just left us has some proprietary ideas when it comes to my free time, is all. She's not my girl." Then he's grinning at Hellboy. "I've known Red since he was a kid."

At the introduction, Tigra offers her hand to Hellboy. "Tigra," she offers in return. "And that's what people usually call me, also," she adds. A glance to Bucky at his answer, and she nods in understanding. "I've known that type of girl." Obviously she would -never- bee that type herself. Nope.

"Clingers. They're the worst." Hellboy says. Or so he was told. He wouldn't know himself as he gives a shrug of his shoulders in thought. "They call you Red too?" he asks curiously. "Here I thought they'd call you gorgeous." Yeah. He's known Bucky since he was a kid. Even picked up on the not so smooth pickup line.

Hellboy also accepts the hand in a brief shake. Left hand. Cause well. Right hand is huge. And rock.

He can't help himself - there's a moment of soundless laughter from Bucky. He pours himself something, coke maybe, and takes a hasty sip, before tipping the glass at Red. Nice play, big guy. "Red, whatcha drinkin'?"

She starts to correct/clarify that no, she meant 'Tigra,' and then realizes where he's going with it, and offers an amused smile, with bits of a smirk in it. "I've been called that," she says in response.

Offering up what could pass as a bemused and charming smile, the yellow eyed demon considers. "Whiskey." comes the response, as he finishes his cigar and snubs it out. There's a thought. Okay. Check box one. Make her smile. Check box two ???. Check box three. A date! Supposedly. But you know. That second check box is a killer. "Nice to meet you, Tigra."

"Comin' right up," Buck pours out whiskey - very good whiskey indeed, and sets it down before Red. "On the house," he tells the half-demon. God knows he doesn't use his share of comped drinks; the most feared Soviet assassin confines himself to Roy Rogerses when he's on the clock.

Tigra quietly lifts her drink to Hellboy and then to Bucky in a silent toast, before taking a sip of it. "So, 'Red,'" she asks, "what do you…do?" A neutral conversation starter, but one doesn't come out and ask, So are you a demon or just look like one?

"Eh, you know, chill out in lakes of fire, torture souls. You know. The usual." Hellboy downs the whiskey and just waits to see how Tigra responds to that. Because it's utter bullshit, and Bucky can easily call him out on it.

Which he does by sputtering with laughter - Buck can't help but give the game away. "He's having you on," he tells Tigra, bright-eyed. "He can't help himself." But he doesn't explain what Hellboy does for a living. They're both Secret Squirrels now.

"Oh, really?" Tigra asks Hellboy. "Just like I chase mice and bits of string all day." She didn't need Bucky to call him out on it, though it certainly confirmed her suspicions. "Well there's certainly a place for eveyrone inthis city."

"…so if I dangle a bit of string…" Hellboy starts to say and grins. "I work in protection." he offers with a shrug. It's all he really can say on it. "You know, when I ain't mooching free drinks off my Uncle. Found me when I was but a pup." the large demon grins and glances Tigra over. He wants to say something about her aura, but everything in his head at the moment sounds lame.

"You want some catnip in that next round?" Buck's voice is oh so innocent, but if the teasing is okay…who is he to resist? "Yeah. And you grew up right," he tells Hellboy, amused, but approving.

"If you dangle a bit of string, you'll just look foolish," Tigra promises with a slight smile. She nods to his answer, sensing the difficulty in saying more. She can certainly understand it. "Thank you for explaining the uncle thing. -That- was going to puzzle me for a while." She calmly sticks her tongue out at Buck, and sips her drink.

"Depends on where I get the string from." Hellboy responds with a smirk as he downs his whiskey and sets it down. There's no rush for a refill at the moment as he laughs. "Yeah, I know, it probably sounds confusing. So what's your story?" he asks the woman.

Bucky gives Hellboy an approving fingergun at that. Boy gets it, yes, he does. "Adopted family," he explains to Tigra, unnecessarily. Because Hellboy totally has Bucky's eyes, right?

An eyebrow goes up at the talk of where the string m ight dangle from. "Not much to say. Was nearly killed, came back better, and now I'm one of the Avengers," she answers. "Your turn." And if Hellboy had Bucky's eyes, he looks like they would be in a box.

A brow arches, the yellow fill of the eye within rising as Hellboy looks Tigra over. "I'd agree with the come back better." He know that magic around her, but without you know.. laying hands on Tigra, he can't really translate it terribly much. "Me? Mum decided to have a one-night stand with a demon, found out he was one of the greater demons of hell, tried to get rid of me, got burned out of her, dad got fucked up in a civil war in Hell, Nazis tried to summon me to Earth, got found by the Americans, here I am."

Bucky confirms with a little ta-da gesture. There he is. And just as he's about to add commentary, he's called by another woman coming out of the back, a strawberry blonde. "'scuse me, kids," he says, "Gotta take care of something." A note to the newcomer, "Ana, they're on my tab."

She's not a caster, but her powers are certainly at least partly magic in origin. She listens to Red's quick summation, and nods. "You know, I think I had an uncle that had that happen to him once," she says, flashing a quick grin. As Bucky leaves, she finishes off her drink and stands gracefully. "I need to step out, meeting someone. If you're here often, though, I'm sure I'll run into again," she says with a smile, then turns to depart, tail swishing lazily.

"I'm here often enough. Maybe next time we'll try a talk at one of the booths." Hellboy offers hopefully, though wow, does he ever watch her leave. And his own tail gives a wag in return. Because really, who wouldn't, turning his attention back to the drink to order a second from Ana.

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