duplicity — inbox

[vestments]

Comments

[vestments]

We disagreed, and I wasn't big on talking solutions. ( ha, well—.

not a lot's changed. )

[redhourglass]

he know what you really thought about him?

[vestments]

( there is a WHOLE LOT of typing for a message that simply consists of one word when it comes through. )

Why?

( that'll be a 'no', then. )

[redhourglass]

why not?

( two can play this game )

[vestments]

He died before we could have a conversation.

[redhourglass]

i’m sorry
that must have been hard

[vestments]

( —that isn't the response he was expecting, and it's not a response he's especially fond of. yes, it was, but acknowledging that isn't something marc's particularly fond of.

acknowledging the fact that they could have spoken if he'd made the effort, if he hadn't told marlene to forget it, to ignore the phone call. that he could have travelled back to chicago before he died to at least pay some degree of respect—. )

You don't need to act polite.

[redhourglass]

i’m not being polite

i know what it’s like for someone to be gone before you have a chance to tell them how you feel

( her mother had searched for her for years, only to be killed by dreykov and buried in an unmarked grave. her nme, who she was, how she ended up selling natasha to the red room (if she had at all) … all was lost with dreykov’s death. )

[vestments]

( oh, well, that explains it. it's not so much about him as it is about her. )

I didn't feel any kind of way about him until after he passed.

( that's a lie. )

This is quite the picture you're drawing of me, Natasha.

[redhourglass]

you’re being a very patient sitter

( she knows he’s lying. it’s not worth pushing on — she has no real agenda here, contrary to his (potential) belief. )

[vestments]

Practise makes perfect.

Although not many people spend a lot of time asking me about my dead family.

[redhourglass]

do you have something better to talk about?

( being locked in sex dystopia leads for interesting conversations once you run out of the usual )

[vestments]

( fuck's sake.
(give him a moment.) )

The living, maybe.

[redhourglass]

anyone in mind?

[vestments]

( naturally, the answer's 'no', if only because talking about people — gossiping — isn't really something that marc does.

—essentially meaning that in every single capacity, this conversation is painful. )

As a general rule, I don't gossip, so...
Not especially.

[redhourglass]

so you don’t want to talk about yourself
and you don’t want to talk about anyone else
i think that kills this conversation, don’t you?

[vestments]

You could talk about you, Natasha.

[redhourglass]

me?
now that’s not a very interesting story

[vestments]

I don't believe that for a second.
Or if it is, it can't be less interesting than me.

[redhourglass]

what do you want to know?

( an echo of a conversation a lifetime ago: who do you want me to be? )

[vestments]

( what is there to ask? he thinks he's at an advantage where though he doesn't know her well, and though they're not the same, there are similarities between her and the other black widow. thinks that he knows enough of her background — in a broad, sweeping sense — to have questions he won't ask.

instead, then— )

You said you've thought about leaving this life.

What would you do instead?

[redhourglass]

( whatever she thought he’d ask — this isn’t it. it isn’t what people normally ask. give people an inch, they’ll take a mile; they go for her past, the bad things she’s done, the people she’s hurt.

yelena had been the last person to ask her what she’d do. maybe that means marc has earned some honesty. )

i don’t know
i didn’t really get that far

try and do some good, probably

[vestments]

You don't feel like you do that now?

[redhourglass]

figure i’m not the best judge of that

[vestments]

I didn't ask if you succeed at it, I asked how you feel about it.

Which tells me 'no'. You don't think you do.