[ The voice comes from the mess hall, but carries a little. To Natasha, it's gonna be familiar - if maybe surprising. After all, she hasn't heard this voice in 5 years. ]
Don't complain. This is for your own good.
[ Sam's sat at one of the tables, a few tools from the lab spread out around him. Redwing's on the table, chassis pried open. Sam's doing some routine maintenance - in the mess hall, lest Newton make good on the threat with the googly eyes. He's absorbed in his work for a moment until Redwing gives a soft electronic beep, alerting Sam to the fact that someone else has entered the room, and he starts looking up, only to immediately freeze when his eyes land on Natasha.
Alive. And right there, in the mess hall. As if she'd not been dead for 6 months. As if she'd not been right here, on Ximilia Station, for another 5 months, only to vanish, presumably back home, presumably dead once more.
It threatens to knock the ground out from under his feet and Sam, predictably, ends up looking like he's seeing a ghost. For a moment he just hovers there, then mutters a soft apology to his drone - sleek in silver, blue and red, Natasha might notice, no longer the red, black and grey paint job Redwing used to don. Sam puts his tools aside slow, deliberate. Hesitant. He's not sure what this means, that she's back, and not knowing sits like a vice in his throat. Is she just... is she back?
Does she remember anything? And if not - is she from a different point in time entirely? ]
Station
Don't complain. This is for your own good.
[ Sam's sat at one of the tables, a few tools from the lab spread out around him. Redwing's on the table, chassis pried open. Sam's doing some routine maintenance - in the mess hall, lest Newton make good on the threat with the googly eyes. He's absorbed in his work for a moment until Redwing gives a soft electronic beep, alerting Sam to the fact that someone else has entered the room, and he starts looking up, only to immediately freeze when his eyes land on Natasha.
Alive. And right there, in the mess hall. As if she'd not been dead for 6 months. As if she'd not been right here, on Ximilia Station, for another 5 months, only to vanish, presumably back home, presumably dead once more.
It threatens to knock the ground out from under his feet and Sam, predictably, ends up looking like he's seeing a ghost. For a moment he just hovers there, then mutters a soft apology to his drone - sleek in silver, blue and red, Natasha might notice, no longer the red, black and grey paint job Redwing used to don. Sam puts his tools aside slow, deliberate. Hesitant. He's not sure what this means, that she's back, and not knowing sits like a vice in his throat. Is she just... is she back?
Does she remember anything? And if not - is she from a different point in time entirely? ]
Hey, Tasha...