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Post by Hollywood Heidi on May 3, 2021 19:36:53 GMT -8
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Post by DarkSideCookie on May 4, 2021 0:33:04 GMT -8
Once they had reached the last stair leading to the front door of his house, Zemo turned his head around for a second. In silence, he was hoping that the nosy neighborhood was already asleep or at least had finished their last round of checking reality tv for free. Novi Grad was not exactly interspersed with mansions, so, even though they lived in one of the wealthier districts, their house and lifestyle was still an eyeful for the less rich neighbors and especially people walking by. That usually didn't bother him, but what did was the not-so-common sight Zemo would give them right now. Namely, him carrying a young woman, who was not his wife and slightly panting at that, up to his house, in the late evening.
With a slight shake of his head, Zemo drew his attention away from the driveway and instead back to the front door. "Hold on," he said as he fiddled with the keys, trying to make no abrupt movements to not cause more pain to the injured woman. Maybe it was not the best idea to invite somebody he knew practically nothing about into his house. Well, at least, she was handicapped. Also, his home was the only place nearby where she would be safe and especially hidden. The only other option would have been to leave her to die, like everyone else had. No, he was not that kind of person. And besides, they had been fighting on the same side. He never left a team member behind.
As soon as the key was turned, Zemo focused back on giving her support, carefully carrying her inside and closing the door behind. The nosy neighborhood had been successfully circumvented, now there was only...
"I wasn't sure when you'd be back, so I..." Helen stopped in the middle of the sentence, turning her head around from her position at one of the couches, looking at them in shock. "What has...?"
"No time to explain, honey," Zemo stated as he, still supporting the stranger woman, rushed towards one of the guest rooms on the ground floor, not paying attention to his wife's following loud dismay.
Once inside, Zemo placed his wounded, still rather unknown coworker on the couch; of course, after he had made sure the spot that would meet with her bloody leg was covered up with his sweater. Much easier to remove blood stains from that than from the couch, especially when he could just give it to cleaning instead of trying to do so himself. Helen was still asking questions from out of the living room, and Zemo still didn't pay attention to that. Once his patient lay down, he walked straight back toward the door though, yet only to close it and also lock it, before his wife would come up with the idea of joining them. To his relief, since that would have meant only more trouble later, she didn't. Well, fair. After all, she was heavily pregnant with their child. Also, she knew him well enough for, when he said he wasn't willing to explain something right that moment, that it would be quite impossible to make him do so anyway.
"Hormones," Zemo dryly apologized for his wife's first impression after he had turned back around to the woman who now was looking up at him from the couch. Wasting no more time with words, at least not coming from him, Zemo then opened one of the cupboards next to the door, looking for any hard liquor - there always was some - to serve as a disinfectant.
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Post by Kristi Lynne on May 4, 2021 8:15:03 GMT -8
The mission had gone wrong. Very, very wrong. Someone had tipped off their target and when the joint taskforce of MI-6 operatives and local special operations soldiers moved on Mister Zarif, they'd walked right into an ambush. Sophie hit the ground when a bullet tore through her left thigh and found herself staring up at a star-filled sky. They were forced to make a hasty retreat and would not come back for her; they had all accepted the risk. So she would be captured, and likely tortured, or she could end it herself. Her thumb hesitantly hovered over the safety of her sidearm.
But the decision was suddenly taken out of her hands when she was scooped up off the street by what looked like one of the Sokovian soldiers. Sophie had noticed him during the pre-op briefings with those large, dark eyes and sharp cheekbones -- typical European pretty boy -- but never expected him to be her savior. He loaded her as gently as their circumstances would allow into a waiting Jeep, which still hurt like hell, and drove like a madman deeper into the city of Novi Grad. When they finally came to a stop, and he helped her up the steps to the front door, she was dreamily convinced this Prince Charming had taken her to his own little castle. Or maybe it was just the blood loss.
Sophie was vaguely aware that their arrival had angered one of the castle's very vocal residents -- his wife, she guessed -- but she was more concerned with the searing pain in her leg. And so rudely bleeding on what looked like pristine and very expensive floors. She finally came to rest on a couch as he busied himself elsewhere in the room.
"Hormones."
"Really? I thought maybe you did this all the time," Sophie remarked with a weak laugh. He'd broken about every rule in the spy book by bringing her here, what seemed to be his actual home populated by his actual family, so it stood to reason that he was making an honest effort to keep her alive.
Once he'd found the alcohol, he was back at her side. She stayed quiet as he calmly and carefully proceeded to check the tightness of the tourniquet he'd made with his own belt, produced a multi-tool from one of his pocketsm and then cut the fabric of her pant leg away from the bullet wound. Clearly, this was not his first rodeo.
"No, wait!" Sophie gasped, as he prepared to tip the vodka out and onto her leg. She yanked the bottle away from him, held it up to her lips, and took several generous swallows. Enough to make her slightly numb to the ensuing pain. She swallowed hard, brusquely wiped her lips dry, and took a couple more deep breaths. "Alright, all yours," she nodded, handing the bottle back to him.
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Post by DarkSideCookie on May 4, 2021 9:25:28 GMT -8
"Really? I thought maybe you did this all the time,"
At that, Zemo was looking a bit confused for a slight moment, then smirked, after all. Still, he wasn't sure if he'd really got it. This woman surely was just near to a delirium. While dedicating himself to her wound, it took a while, though, before the smirk would completely vanish from his face.
"No, wait!"
Once again, confusion flashed over his face. Not because she stopped him, but because of suddenly yanking the bottle away from him to take several swallows from it instead. Respect. She was drinking like a Sokovian.
"Alright, all yours,"
With his mouth open, still slightly impressed, Zemo received the bottle back from her hands, wordlessly focusing on the wound on her leg again. While carefully swaying the bottle, Zemo suddenly halted to throw another quick look over at her as if silently asking for permission to go on. Usually, he wasn't so hesitant, but she seriously looked at him as if he was going to amputate it. He smirked inwardly. Probably one of her very first missions or maybe only the first that failed to accomplish. Yet, at least. This was still also his mission, and he didn't like anything to fail.
He took her slight nodding as a yes, then started counting, "Three, two", and tipping the vodka out onto her leg on two. "Expectation only worsens the actual pain. Better to get it over with," Zemo answered her judging face as a sideline once the muffled scream had stopped. He smirked again, although looking as if he tried to suppress it. But no, he wasn't doing that. It was just the way he smirked. Entirely unperturbed, he went on with patching her up.
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Post by Kristi Lynne on May 4, 2021 14:45:05 GMT -8
"Three, two..."
And then he was dousing her bloody leg in the alcohol. The sudden wave of burning quickly overwhelmed the existing pain and caused her to cry out. "Aaaiiigghhh, son of a --" Sophie bit back a curse as she bit down on her finger and buried her head in the couch's upholstery to muffle the scream. When the agony had mostly subsided, she reluctantly looked down at her leg. The sight of blood had never really bothered her, but this time it was her own, and a lot of it. This mysterious soldier had made no mention of a doctor or a hospital, so he must have confidence in his own ability to treat this major injury. She really had no choice but to go along with it.
"Expectation only worsens the actual pain. Better to get it over with."
"Typical man, no respect for foreplay," she sighed and smirked in return. Well, perhaps the vodka was a little stronger than she was used to. Once most of the blood was washed away, he gave her a towel and instructed her to keep pressure on the wound in order to stop the bleeding. His asserted nonchalance in the midst of chaos would have been extremely annoying, if it weren't the only thing keeping her calm right now.
"Hey, be honest. How bad is it?" Sophie asked, searching his eyes. He had saved her life, for whatever reason. Surely he wouldn't have the gall to lie to her now.
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Post by DarkSideCookie on May 5, 2021 3:37:18 GMT -8
"Typical man, no respect for foreplay,"For the second time already, this woman had managed to bring an expression to his face that could be best described as a three-course menu of reactions: confusion as an aperitif, a bit of awkwardness for the entrée, with slight amusement in the aftermath, yet only enough to leave space for the dessert, sympathy. Zemo liked people who were able to maintain a sense of humor in any kind of situation. And this situation surely was no piece of cake for her. Not only because of her injury but rather because of the lack of assessability for her part. Every soldier was trying to assess the situations they found themselves in, at any time. So this must drive her crazy, Zemo assumed. He probably should feel sorry for that, but, for some reason, it only amused him more. "Hey, be honest. How bad is it?"So much that, instead of giving her an answer to her quite valid question, he turned his eyes away instead, wordlessly picking the bottle of vodka back up, then started walking back towards the cupboard where he had got it from, now much more casually and without any rush. And that same casualty it was with which he replaced it there before having a long and really close look at the range of other liquids inside, not paying attention to his conversation partner on the couch for the whole while. Then Zemo finally was showing a reaction again, yet not to what she had asked him or might have thrown at him during his little stock-check. "Berliner Luft,*" he suddenly spoke up again while walking back to her with a different bottle and two shot glasses. "A peppermint schnaps." Probably even a non-German-speaking person might have been able to pick out the accent-free pronunciation of his German. "Everyone should get a taste of it before they die," Zemo smirked, now even flagrantly amused. However, she deserved to know that she was out of danger, especially since, now, she was looking at him as if he was going to kill her himself. "Don't worry. It has been a through and through. No hitting of the femoral artery or breaking the bone," Zemo finished as he took a seat as well, yet not next to her but instead on the edge of the table across. There he filled both shot glasses with the new liquid that was still a recipe based on vodka but with less percent before handing out one of them to his still unknown coworker. They had time, especially he had. He always had. With a slight smile, he moved a little closer to clink his shot glass to hers. "Nastrovje.*" Then he leaned back again, knocking down his own in one go, with his face straight and unmoving.
---------------------------- *Berliner Luft = brand name of a German liquor, literal translation: "air of Berlin" *Nastrovje = Russian for "Cheers!"
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Post by Kristi Lynne on May 5, 2021 15:54:56 GMT -8
"Berliner Luft. A peppermint schnaps. Everyone should get a taste of it before they die."
He was certainly taking his sweet time if her diagnosis was really that dire. While he was surveying his rather sizeable liquor inventory, her head was spinning with a million questions. How much trouble was she in? How much trouble was he in? What was their next move? What if Zarif made it out of the country? What if one of their team members had leaked the intel to their target?
What was this guy's name again? Did the Sokovian government really pay Mystery Man well enough to afford this place, or did he marry into money? Was he intentionally being aloof because he didn't trust her and needed to keep her at a distance? Or was he just being a smug bastard because he was enjoying it?
"Don't worry. It has been a through and through. No hitting of the femoral artery or breaking the bone ... Nastrovje."
A tense breath left her lungs that she didn't even realize she'd been holding. Sophie looked over the rim of the offered shot glass at her host with astonishment, and a large dose of relief. Yep, smug bastard it was, she concluded. But unfortunately one that she was warming up to. He wasn't going to offer his opinion or information easily, that much was clear. So if he was willing to offer his best vintage, she was willing to extend this pleasant delusion a little longer before getting back to business.
Sophie followed his lead and downed the shot, the minty liquid burning her throat in a not entirely unpleasant way. She could understand why he spoke of it with such reverence. "Do you break out the good stuff for every gravely wounded visitor, or am I special?" she asked coyly, holding the empty glass back out to him in a gesture that begged for a refill.
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Post by DarkSideCookie on May 6, 2021 10:13:33 GMT -8
"Do you break out the good stuff for every gravely wounded visitor, or am I special?"
Zemo eyed her up for a moment, then smirked, yet again looking like he was going to completely ignore the question, or, at least, not answer it with words. Or maybe he would this time? Zemo made her wonder for some more seconds before he casually and, at the same time, subtly asked: "I don't know. Are you?" Without waiting for a reaction or expecting one in the first place, Zemo silently dedicated himself to the refill of both their glasses, in the most relaxed and therefore, to her, probably unnerving way. Yes, he was aware of the effect his calmness had on others. Did he bother? Not really. Did he enjoy? Sometimes. Did he now? Most certainly.
But before she could have let him know so or could have asked him more questions, Zemo spoke up again first. "My name is Zemo, by the way. Apologies if I forgot yours..," he kind of stated and asked at the same time while handing her the refilled glass out. Of course, he knew that they hadn't shared even one conversation yet, well, before this one here at least. In his experience, however, it was way more efficient to casually approach any information, even if it was as simple as a name, when it came to people like himself. To stress something would imply that the information was important, and to ask for important information was anything but easy. Zemo wasn't so much in the mood of not easy right now. Also, serving her with his own name could be seen as a tactic to give her a credit of trust, yet, at this point at least, that rather was an open secret anyway. Eventually, her head would be clear enough again to figure it out herself, from the dizziness caused by her wound, same as from the one caused by their ongoing schnapps session. To add to the picture of him being rather incurious about the answer, Zemo knocked down the second round before there even came one. She better not asked for a third round, he then thought in silence. After all, he wasn't going to add an alcohol intoxication to her patient chart. That was not his field of expertise. Every Sokovian surely had been given a super liver in their cradle.
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Post by Kristi Lynne on May 6, 2021 12:24:10 GMT -8
"I don't know. Are you? ... My name is Zemo, by the way. Apologies if I forgot yours..."
Sophie's bemused smile faded in the face of what seemed like a genuine question. She really didn't think there was anything special about her; she was just there to do a job. And when that job failed, he was there to save her. So maybe the real puzzler was what he found 'special' about her.
"I'm just another soldier like you ... Zemo," she replied, trying out the name on her lips. "And I never gave you my name." She celebrated the tables turning back in her favor by downing that second shot, meeting his expectant expression with a little casual avoidance of her own. How long should she make him wait? Two seconds, three? Irrelevant since she didn't plan on actually answering the question. "Callsign: Osprey. Charlie Company, Echo Platoon. That's all I can give you," Sophie told him. "Our countries may be allies, but we're not friends."
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Post by DarkSideCookie on May 7, 2021 5:43:07 GMT -8
Interesting reaction. His simple counter-question had actually supposed to mean nothing really, yet seemed to have somewhat affected her, Zemo assessed while silently studying her face for a while, with an unreadable one of his own. She wasn't quite as self-confident as she pretended or wanted him to think she was. Her flaws were kind of reflecting in her eyes. That actually made her even more likable in his. To Zemo, that was what made people really special, much more than these arising icons like Iron Man. Never would he sit back and do nothing while reckoning on self-declared superheroes to protect the world from danger.
"I'm just another soldier like you ... Zemo,"
The smirking face found its way back onto his features, after all, yet only until she went on.
"And I never gave you my name."
And she wouldn't do so now either, Zemo concluded on his mind, this time given the role of a watcher himself while she knocked down the drink in her hand. He was aware of what she did there, namely, the same thing he had done with her before. A deliberate playing with time and the other one's anticipation. Fair. Zemo slightly tilted his head as they kept staring at each other. He could do this all day long if she wanted it so. The question was just, could she?
"Callsign: Osprey. Charlie Company, Echo Platoon. That's all I can give you,""Our countries may be allies, but we're not friends."
And there it was, as expected. No name. Zemo smirked again. And yet again, fair. Well, it was not of importance to him to know her name. Not really. Either she gave him one herself - which she just had made clear she wouldn't - or he gave her one. After all, he had to come up with a story to tell his wife, as much as he hated adding more lies to their marriage; One reason why he usually was avoiding any talk about his job at all. However, unluckily for Osprey here, Zemo was not very creative with names. Or maybe he was? Remained to be seen.
"No one is to be trusted. Not even one who has saved your life," he eventually gave voice to what he read on her mind, nodding his head slightly as he spoke. "But I get it," Zemo then added after a short pause, not stating it like someone who was trying to convince her of the contrary or being in no agreement with that attitude in the first place, but like someone who actually got it. Then, before she could have reacted to any of that, Zemo leaned once again closer to take the glass out of her hand. Together with his own and the half-empty bottle, he wordlessly left from her side and slowly stepped back towards the cupboard near the door, yet again taking his time while he did so.
"You might want to take some rest now," he spoke up again with his attention still turned to the contents of the cupboard right in front of him, looking as if he was literally taking stock there.
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Post by Kristi Lynne on May 7, 2021 13:33:47 GMT -8
"No one is to be trusted. Not even one who has saved your life. But I get it."
And it seemed from his expression that he really did get it. She wasn't dodging the question just to be annoying, at least not entirely, but this whole experience had set her on edge. It was just too difficult to know who to trust at the current time.
"You might want to take some rest now."
"Yeah, right," Sophie grumbled. In a strange house in a strange country, with adrenaline and confusion and increased levels of alcohol coursing through her veins. Still, she went through the motions of trying to get as comfortable as possible in as pain-free a position as possible, and laid her head down. ""Zemo?" she uttered, waiting for his attention to return to her. "Thank you. I, um, I might be too hungover in the morning to remember all this, so I'd better say it now."
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Post by DarkSideCookie on May 7, 2021 15:00:29 GMT -8
"Zemo?"He stopped that drawing-his-attention-elsewhere thing and turned around to his guest, his expression rather blank. "Thank you. I, um, I might be too hungover in the morning to remember all this, so I'd better say it now."Zemo watched her for some more seconds before one last smirk appeared on his face, this time very slowly given and also accompanied by a slight nod of his head. He might not always openly show a reaction to everything, but the appreciation for her gratitude was visible in this little movement, because, just like her, Zemo was somebody whose, also unspoken, words were reflecting in the eyes. Quietly closing the doors of the cupboard in front of him, he turned to face her one last time, watching as her head sank deeper into the sofa cushion and her eyes closed bit by bit. He was glad that she was able to get some sleep. Schnapps could work wonders when suffering from any pain, be it physical or mental; To some extent, at least.
Zemo hesitated but then turned around to the cupboard on the facing wall to get out a blanket. Since he didn't want to wake her up, yet knew that, even with the heater turned on, it could get a little cold in the nights, he quietly walked over to the sofa once again to carefully cover her with it himself. He also should tell Oeznik to bring her a change of clothes in the morning. She and Helen seemed to be about the same size. With his wife being brought back to his mind, Zemo's features hardened a bit. Not because he thought she would not appreciate a guest in their house, especially if there was some kind of tragic story behind it; But it was the story that he didn't look forward to tell. He didn't like lying to her. It felt wrong, even after years of already walking on that route. After all, he knew why he did, why he had to. He just had to remind himself of that from time to time. With quiet steps, Zemo headed towards the door to finally leave her alone. It had been a long day for him as well, yet he appreciated Helen's patience and that she had accepted his call to defer explanations until later, so he didn't like to leave her worried and with questions any longer. *** Zemo exits ***
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Post by Kristi Lynne on May 8, 2021 6:07:35 GMT -8
The next morning...
Sophie's bleary eyes slowly opened to take in her surroundings and get her bearings. Yet consciousness brought the one-two punch of pain in her head and pain in her leg, and she laid her head back down almost immediately as she had tried to raise it. Bloody schnapps -- never again, she declared inwardly. She clutched the blanket that had mysteriously appeared over her in the night and pulled it back up over her shoulder.
But a few restful seconds later, and she became aware of movement elsewhere in the room. It was still fairly dark, but she could hear the sound of fabric rustling and make out the shape of a man among the shadows. And she could tell it was not her host. Her gun had been placed on the nearby coffee table, but a knife still rested in her ankle holster. She carefully and deliberately moved to retrieve it without letting him know she was awake.
Sophie allowed the silhouette to move closer, observing as it leaned over to place a bundle on the table. In one swift move, she tossed the blanket aside and had the knife's edge hovering at his throat. "Who are you?" she demanded. "Where's Zemo?"
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Post by DarkSideCookie on May 8, 2021 10:29:56 GMT -8
*** Meanwhile in the kitchen ***
Zemo was deep in thoughts while, at the same time, feeling like he was still half asleep as he prepared a pot of tea. This wasn't even meant for their breakfast yet, since it was still so early in the morning that he assumed not only Helen but also their temporary guest was still sleeping. And the second it was that caused him quite a headache, especially ever since he had come back from that emergency meeting, convened on short notice. Helen had only slightly turned her head in his direction at the sound of his phone, fallen back to sleep immediately after a soft kiss and a quiet apology from him. That was always easier and made him feel less like a terrible husband than giving false explanations right to her face. He still hated to do that, though. Stealing himself out of the bedroom, in silent hopes he would be back by the time she woke up again. She might be used to him having to go to meetings at times, but it was still hard to explain overnight briefings with family business.
Anyways, he never had felt so uncomfortable during any meeting before. For the first time, Zemo risked to not only lose his position but also, and more importantly, to brand himself a traitor of his country, for someone he knew nothing about, at that. He must be crazy to do this. And yet, Zemo dared to doubt that this woman was fighting on the wrong side. Well, of course, he knew that she couldn't be the mole, which had been the topic of that meeting in the first place. With her not been seen and also gone radio silent since their operation went down, it was somewhat comprehensibly to him that they started jumping to such conclusions. Zemo, however, could have piped up, explaining what really had happened; That he was providing her protection ever since. He probably should have. If there wouldn't always be this strong impulse in him that caused him to take things into his own hands. A bad idea when that meant to lie to his team. Keeping the truth to himself was a variant form of lying, wasn't it? Probably a matter of interpretation. Yet, with a superior reason, like the securing of an innocent's protection, would that still mean demerit? The problem that he actually had with this was that he had no idea if she actually was to be trusted. Trying to clear somebody's name with no more than an alias was not exactly something he would have seen coming to ever do. Too bad that they were using only their code names in meetings as well, yet understandable and, of course, to his liking in general. Zemo had made his own sacrifices to protect his wife, so he was the last who wouldn't understand to take precautions. Anyways, this all was causing so many conflicts in him, too many for a morning with only like a couple of hours sleep.
The boiling water jolted him out of his thoughts. With slow steps, he walked over to the counter, pulling the pot with the tea leaves already inside closer, and poured the hot water in. Even with the lack of sleep, Zemo still preferred tea over coffee. It was not actually the taste but rather the smell and process of preparing it that gave him a feeling of deep relaxation. A good way to make up for some missed hours in the night. In the long view, caffeine made things only worse.
For a while, it was only him, sitting there in silence, with the tea warming him from inside. And, all of a sudden, things didn't seem so nerve-wracking anymore. He would come up with something. He always had.
Eventually, the quiet noise of approaching steps made Zemo look up from his tea glass.
"What you're doin' here all alone at stupid o'clock?", Helen asked him with a soft smile before audible yawning was following her words.
Zemo smiled. "Drinking tea."
"Yeah, I see that," she replied with a face that gave away she knew she would be getting an answer like that. "How rude of you to not wake me to bear you company," she then added with a smirk as she walked closer and, instead of getting her own glass, took the one Zemo held out of his hands. "Mh, cherry blossom. You dare drinkin' my favorite type while I'm upstairs, thinkin' my husband left to surprise me with breakfast in bed?"
Suddenly the smirk on Zemo's face changed into an expression that looked almost guilty for a moment. Usually, that was not his reaction to any quip from her, so it was clear she would notice.
"Hey," Helen added more empathetically, replacing the glass on the table and her hand onto his arm instead. "It's sweet how concerned you are, honey, but she'll be safe here with us. Come on. Now brush off those worries and give me a kiss."
It were exactly these moments in which he wanted to just tell her the whole truth, knowing that she would understand his reasons for not having done so earlier, but it also were these moments in which he just wanted to kiss her. So he went for the second this time as well.
***
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Post by DarkSideCookie on May 8, 2021 11:50:51 GMT -8
Butler Oeznik (tempplay by DarkSideCookie)
*** The butler of the Zemos enters the guest room *** Oeznik tried to be as quiet as possible when he obliged to Mr. Zemo's request to bring a change of clothes, one that Mrs. Zemo had already laid out ready for him so that he only had to deliver it. What luck, since he wouldn't feel comfortable to do so himself. He was not so much used to being around a young married couple and their wardrobe (these were some crazy times with a lot of stuff Oeznik wouldn't even be able to guess their sense and purpose), same as to Helmut Zemo's sense of unique humor, although he had started to get used to it during the last months of helping them out, actually even to find it amusing at times, as long as it wasn't directed toward himself, which it luckily mostly wasn't. With a slight shake of his head, yet smiling, Oeznik picked up a table runner from the ground, obviously fallen out of the cupboard when somebody had been searching for a blanket. Heinrich's son was a bit messier than his father. He had made sure to replace the fabric in the board as quietly as possible, yet he wasn't the youngest anymore, and his movements therefore not the most balletic. It was probably the same reason that didn't make him notice their guest was already awake and preparing for a not so appreciative first contact. The bundle was still in his hands when, suddenly, their guest moved upward and straight onto him, with a sharp knife held to his throat. By god! That has never happened in all the years in the service of Mr. Heinrich Zemo. "Who are you?""Where's Zemo?"However, a butler was trained to stay calm and collected, especially a butler in the service of a Zemo. "Mr. Zemo has sent me to bring you clothes," Oeznik replied with a much stronger Russian accent than Zemo before, composed, yet with rising nervosity when she wouldn't lower the knife. "I'm the butler of the Zemos. Oeznik, Ma'am. Would... you mind taking the knife away from my throat?" His question had actually been asked politely, but he devoutly hoped she wouldn't answer in the positive.
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Post by Kristi Lynne on May 8, 2021 16:23:37 GMT -8
"Mr. Zemo has sent me to bring you clothes. I'm the butler of the Zemos. Oeznik, Ma'am. Would... you mind taking the knife away from my throat?"
"Ah, I see. So sorry, force of habit," Sophie said in apology as she put the knife away. Once she had gotten closer, she could see that he was an older, well-dressed gentleman. Suitably startled by her pointed greeting, and she felt terribly embarrassed. Of course, Zemo would have a butler, living in a castle like he did. With a pained sigh, she returned to her seat on the couch, stretching out her legs.
"Thank you, Oeznik, that's very kind," she offered, hoping that she'd pronounced it correctly. She held up the offered ensemble and concluded that either Zemo or his wife did have excellent taste. "Your boss and I had a bit of a rough night. You don't have anything for a headache, do you?"
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Post by DarkSideCookie on May 9, 2021 4:07:56 GMT -8
Butler Oeznik (tempplay by DarkSideCookie)
"Ah, I see. So sorry, force of habit," "Thank you, Ma'am," Oeznik replied with a polite smile. To outsiders, especially those holding knives to his throat, it must be hard to believe that he was just a butler of an aristocratic family. Sure, he might not appear as a dauntless man or a fighter even, yet his composure surely was providing ample food for thought about his employers. While their guest was stretching out her legs on the couch, Oeznik had already started to busy himself with the uncurling of that bundle of clothes that he, at least, not had let fallen onto the ground when she went for his throat but unluckily rumpled a bit under his tensioned fingers. "Thank you, Oeznik, that's very kind,"He turned his head back to her, still a formal yet gentle smile on his face as he nodded in response. "Your boss and I had a bit of a rough night. You don't have anything for a headache, do you?"The question had been asked about the same time it took Oeznik to produce a transparent little tin from the inside pocket of his tailcoat. "I have been apprised of that matter, Ma'am. Mr. Zemo requested me to give you this," Oeznik said as he held out the tin with two white pills inside to her, no sign on his face of a personal opinion about the matter in general. It was not his place to question Mr. Zemo's social intercourses. "Do you like to ingest them now - in that case, I will bring you a glass of water - or rather take them with your breakfast?"
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Post by Kristi Lynne on May 9, 2021 5:18:07 GMT -8
"I have been apprised of that matter, Ma'am. Mr. Zemo requested me to give you this."
Her fatigued face lit up immensely at the sight of those two little pills and their offered medical magic. Bless you, Zemo, she sighed inwardly. "Oh, you are an angel, Oeznik," she praised the butler as she took the offered tin.
"Do you like to ingest them now - in that case, I will bring you a glass of water - or rather take them with your breakfast?"
"That won't be necessary," Sophie replied, limping her way to the liquor cabinet that Zemo had so studiously observed the night before. There had to be a bottle of seltzer in there; surely Sokovians didn't drink everything straight. "Ah, found you," she chirped, grabbing the glass bottle. She set it on the countertop above and poured a generous amount into a glass, downing the pills and then the liquid in quick succession. She paused for a moment to close her eyes and just breathe, give the painkillers time to kick in.
"So, how long have you worked for Mister Zemo?" Sophie asked casually, swirling the water in her glass. Granted, Zemo himself wasn't forthcoming with answers, but maybe that didn't apply to his staff.
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Post by DarkSideCookie on May 9, 2021 9:54:10 GMT -8
Butler Oeznik (tempplay by DarkSideCookie)
"That won't be necessary," Oeznik had just been about to inform her of the other thing he was requested to bring her and had forgotten to have placed next to the door after tidying up Mr. Zemo's chaos left on the ground, when their guest was almost already back from her hobbling towards the cupboard to serve herself with a bottle of water and a glass. He smiled in slight amusement. She was probably not used to make use of the services of a butler. "So, how long have you worked for Mister Zemo?"Same as he was not used to having guests around who asked him personal questions. Granted, these last months serving for Heinrich's son had been much more entertaining and refreshing than anything before. It seemed to stay like this. Oeznik smiled again before launching into an answer. "Oh, not so long for this Zemo but many years for his father." Then, before she could have started to ask more questions, as much as he grew to this guest that had him welcomed in a rather unorthodox way, he changed the topic back to the former. "Allow me to lead you to the dining room whenever you are ready. You find the nearest guest bathroom located behind the first door on your right. Please take your time. Oh," Oeznik turned around one last time, once again almost forgotten the other thing he was going to hand out to her, "and these might make it a little easier, as masterful as your walk through the room had been looking." With another smile of amusement and a wink even, he handed her out the pair of crutches that still had been leaning on the wall next to the door. Then he left the room with a nod and a polite "It was a pleasure to meet you, Ma'am." His words came off surprisingly honest, despite the fact of them not having had the best start. But he might not be a usual butler, after all. *** Oeznik exits ***
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Post by Kristi Lynne on May 9, 2021 15:56:59 GMT -8
"Allow me to lead you to the dining room whenever you are ready. You find the nearest guest bathroom located behind the first door on your right. Please take your time. Oh, and these might make it a little easier, as masterful as your walk through the room had been looking. It was a pleasure to meet you, Ma'am."
"The pleasure's all mine, Oeznik," Sophie replied gratefully. He seemed as tight-lipped as his employer, but that was probably why he was still an employee and had been for two generations. Nevermind, she had more pressing matters than subtly interrogating the staff. Like making herself presentable for the lord and lady of the manor. Well, mostly, the lady, since Zemo's first impression of her was fully set. She couldn't even begin to imagine what sort of explanation Zemo had offered for Sophie's sudden and dramatic appearance on the scene. It would be a very interesting meal.
Having showered and washed her hair, she pulled on the borrowed dress and took a look in the still steam-covered glass of the mirror. The dress was a solid emerald green with an empire waist -- long and flowy enough to cover her bandaged leg, in a fabric thick enough to stave off the Sokovian cold but not heavy enough to be restrictive. Hair that had been tightly braided for work now loosened into unkempt blonde waves. She leaned on the marble sink's edge and took a couple more deep breaths. Thankfully, her head was feeling clearer and not like it was caught in a vise anymore. She would need to be able to think quickly and improvise.
With the help of the crutches and an attentive Oeznik, Sophie made her way to the dining room. It was as opulent as the rest of the house, and the tabletop presented a varied and generous spread of food. She met Zemo's startled look with a slight smile that widened as she caught the gaze of his wife. "Morning!" she greeted, as if this was any other morning. She thanked Oeznik for pulling out her chair and then settled into her seat. "Zemo, Mrs. Zemo. This all looks amazing!" she gushed, ever the gracious guest. "I'm not sure how I can ever repay you for offering me a safe haven."
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Post by DarkSideCookie on May 9, 2021 18:19:01 GMT -8
***
Zemo and Helen eventually had been shifting their early morning tea party to the dining room, where there were offered more seats and also place for the usual wide selection of breakfast, same as for their guest. Actually, any meal they shared was of such variety. Not to be ostentatious about the fact that they could afford it, but to simply serve themselves with a taste adventure whenever they could. They also didn't bother setting the table mostly on their own while Oeznik took care of the task Zemo had given him. It was nice to have a butler around, and they surely appreciated being able to just sit back and let him do the work for them at times, yet that didn't mean they couldn't help themselves as well.
When the noise of approaching steps, one pair of them accompanied by the sound of crutches meeting with the floor, told them the arrival of Oeznik with their guest in his company, Zemo looked up first, actually speechless for a moment. Seeing the same woman he had rescued from a shootout and with which he had shared one or two drinks only some hours ago, now in one of his wife's most beautiful dresses and with her hair falling in golden locks, brought, for a moment, an almost shocked expression to his face. Not in a negative way. Quite the contrary, which caused him to feel kind of awkward even more. Why the hell had Helen that dress chosen to give to her? Zemo was pretending to clear his throat to look like he was occupied with something else when she and Oeznik were meeting them by the table. Unluckily for him, she obviously had been taking notice of his startled look already, answering it with a slight smile.
"Morning!"
Zemo gave her an almost unrecognizable nod while Helen met her with a cheerful smile.
"Zemo, Mrs. Zemo. This all looks amazing!""I'm not sure how I can ever repay you for offering me a safe haven."
"Oh, please call me Helen," Zemo's wife spoke up at the same time that their guest had finished talking. This woman tended to cut somebody short at times, yet not for reasons of liking to hear herself talk but rather because she was too enthusiastic stopping herself. Zemo might as well expect the worst. "And don't you worry, dear. He'd told me everything. I can't even imagine the hell you must be goin' through." Suddenly, Helen stopped herself, after all, looking like she feared to have said something that could trigger their guest's trauma. "Sorry, I wasn't going to... Well, make yourself feel at home with us for as long as you wish. And, sorry again, but I'm curious: Is Birdie a short form of something? I just never have met someone with that name. I really like it, though."
At that, stirring came back to Zemo's face, after all. He couldn't help but smirk at, first, the cute name he had come up with for his coworker, and, second, the fact that his wife had brought it up so soon. Their eyes would meet only for a second before Zemo drew his attention towards Oeznik - who was still standing nearby -, not because he would feel ashamed but rather to tease her even more by just ignoring the judging look. "Oeznik, come sit with us," he spoke to their butler whilst making an inviting gesture towards one of the empty seats. Oeznik was still not used to Helmut Zemo's generosity, so, even though he accepted, he seemed a bit self-conscious. Then Zemo's gaze turned towards Birdie again, after all, now meeting hers with flagrant amusement.
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Post by Kristi Lynne on May 10, 2021 13:44:45 GMT -8
"Oh, please call me Helen. And don't you worry, dear. He'd told me everything. I can't even imagine the hell you must be goin' through. Sorry, I wasn't going to... Well, make yourself feel at home with us for as long as you wish. And, sorry again, but I'm curious: Is Birdie a short form of something? I just never have met someone with that name. I really like it, though."
Birdie? Clever boy, Sophie mentally taunted him in return. "Ah, well, Helen, 'Birdie' is a family name," she answered, in a slow and deliberate tone meant to give her time to concoct a believable story. "My grandmother on my mother's side was always called 'Birdie.' She was an avid game hunter. She and Granddad would go on holiday to Dorset every year and bring home loads of duck, pheasant, partridge, grouse. So it came from her. Mind you, her real name was Mildred, so I think it worked in my favor."
The trick was to build the lie on a strong foundation of truth; it meant less information for one to have to remember in the future. And she could already tell she was going to hate lying to this enthusiastically open woman. For a fleeting moment, she felt sympathy for Zemo and the fine line he would always have to walk in this marriage. It was something she could never imagine doing.
Sophie went to pour herself some tea, but found the kettle quickly snatched from her hand as Oeznik took on the pouring duties. The butler may have been seated at the table with them, but it proved more difficult to set aside his serving duties. She dropped a couple of sugar cubes into the teacup and began stirring. "So, everything happened so fast last night, that I think I'm a little dodgy on the details," Sophie prompted. "Care to clarify them, Zemo?" The sympathetic look on Helen's face meant Zemo must have told some terribly tragic tale. And frankly, she was dying to hear it herself.
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Post by DarkSideCookie on May 11, 2021 6:26:19 GMT -8
"Ah, well, Helen, 'Birdie' is a family name,""My grandmother on my mother's side was always called 'Birdie.' She was an avid game hunter. She and Granddad would go on holiday to Dorset every year and bring home loads of duck, pheasant, partridge, grouse. So it came from her. Mind you, her real name was Mildred, so I think it worked in my favor."
Creative, Zemo put one mental return on top, looking at her with a suppressed smirk, although the hint of it visible enough for her to guess. She was almost better than he was when it came to telling a solid lie, especially by looking at the time frame she'd had to come up with something. Probably though, she was just having the advantage of not being personally attached.
Zemo left the talking to the two ladies while he enjoyed his breakfast without any sign of ruffle as if they would be sitting together like this every day. He thought it was best to just let things take their course for a while. After all, Helen did good talking enough for both of them. But then his plan to just still his hunger in silence got thwarted, after all, when Birdie decided that his passiveness wasn't helpful.
"So, everything happened so fast last night, that I think I'm a little dodgy on the details,""Care to clarify them, Zemo?"
However, Zemo had way too much fun setting Helen with her enthusiasm and curiosity onto her, instead of clarifying all of it himself. He knew his wife well enough. She would start asking questions soon enough, so he would just have to give it a push. Anyways, Zemo was aware of it being better, by that time, his coworker would know the whole story herself. So instead of making this any more appear like some kind of formal meeting with a briefing of what had happened the night before, he went for something else. There had been a slight undertone in her voice, somewhat sounding accusing while probably meant teasing in truth. Zemo was able to work with that. Besides, they had to appear a lot more like colleagues, maybe even on their way to become friends, but, first of all, as if they would be knowing each other for a while.
"I'm sorry, Birdie," Zemo started with one hand slightly raised in a defensive manner yet still casually - and, of course, was it too tempting not to use that name as often as he could -, "I know you don't like that talked about, but thought it could be good for you to have somebody else knowing about the things with your husband." He made a face as if silently begging her pardon while, at the same time, actually, begging her to play along until they would be alone again to discuss things out. "I just might not be the right person for this," he added like he would be, so far, the only person with who Birdie had dared to share her story of a toxic marriage.
"Hey, it's okay," suddenly Helen intervened, giving their guest a sympathetic yet, at the same time, cheerful smile to not give her the feeling of getting driven into a corner or something. "We don't have to talk about any of that now. Let's just enjoy breakfast together."
Mission accomplished. Helen might be a curious person, but she wouldn't stress a topic that had been mentioned as something one usually didn't like to get brought up. And yet, he was sure she would do so later, after all, for she was also someone who liked to offer support with a sympathetic ear, especially when it came to a story that included violence against a woman, but probably not with him and also Oeznik around.
"Say," Helen, eventually, spoke up again whilst piling an oladuschki, some kind of traditional Russian pancake made with kefir, on her plate. The fact that she wasn't making use of her fork but instead of her fingers let assume that Zemo's wife hadn't been born into royalty and the etiquette it came with. Along with her American accent, one might figure that she had married only into it. "Is he also this unnerving calm at work? I mean, honestly, we all have these moments where we just freak out. He really is the only person on earth who seems to never." She gave Zemo an apologizing yet slightly teasing glare from the side before drawing her attention back to their guest since her question had actually been meant seriously.
Zemo gave their guest a look as if silently saying don't disgrace me.
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Post by Kristi Lynne on May 11, 2021 16:31:21 GMT -8
"I'm sorry, Birdie. I know you don't like that talked about, but thought it could be good for you to have somebody else knowing about the things with your husband. I just might not be the right person for this."
"Hey, it's okay. We don't have to talk about any of that now. Let's just enjoy breakfast together."
"Say, is he also this unnerving calm at work? I mean, honestly, we all have these moments where we just freak out. He really is the only person on earth who seems to never."
"Yes, yes, he is. Quite annoying, really," Sophie declared. If he wanted to avoid the topic, that was fine. She could also engage in idle chitchat just as well as he could. All the while picking up the breadcrumbs he was dropping about a violent husband and an unhappy marriage. "But I think it's safe to say I wouldn't be sitting here if it weren't for your husband. Right place, right time, I suppose," she mused, a hint of genuine appreciation sneaking its way out. He had to know that was a statement, not a lie.
"Anyway, forgive the naive tourist here," Sophie shifted ahead, game face firmly back in place. "What exactly are we having for breakfast, Helen?"
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Post by DarkSideCookie on May 12, 2021 11:34:04 GMT -8
"Yes, yes, he is. Quite annoying, really,"
Touché. Fair, though. That was what you got when you were teasing people round the clock. He found it refreshing, though, to meet somebody who was not only able to take it but also to dish out some herself.
"But I think it's safe to say I wouldn't be sitting here if it weren't for your husband. Right place, right time, I suppose,"
How sweet of her to express gratitude towards him, even twice already. Only for a second, Zemo's features were changing into thoughtfulness, though. He better didn't become too attached. There still was the possibility of her not being who she stated to be. On the other hand, she had not even yet stated to be somebody in particular. Well, they probably both had to prove to each other that they were to be trusted. Yet, she'd gotten a huge credit of trust from him when he had brought her here to his family.
"Anyway, forgive the naive tourist here,""What exactly are we having for breakfast, Helen?"
Once she was changing the topic and turning her attention completely back towards his wife, Zemo relaxed some more, drawing his own to the food on his plate, once again deciding to leave the talking to the two ladies.
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Post by DarkSideCookie on May 12, 2021 11:37:33 GMT -8
Helen (tempplay by DarkSideCookie) "Anyway, forgive the naive tourist here,""What exactly are we having for breakfast, Helen?""Oh, don't worry the tourist thing," Helen replied with a wave of her hand. "I'm sure I still pronounce things horribly wrong. But let's give it a try, shall we?" She threw one glance over at Helmut, who gave her but an amused smirk. Of course, he wouldn't help her out. "So, these are oladu-schhki?" Helen tried and looked back at his husband. Oh, this freaking smirk man. "Just try. They're delicious," she then added back in Birdie's direction, waiting for her to get a taste of the first before going over to the next. This was actually remembering her of the first time when Helmut had been taking her on a culinary tour, and she no idea what to expect.
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Post by Kristi Lynne on May 12, 2021 16:53:48 GMT -8
"Oh, don't worry the tourist thing. I'm sure I still pronounce things horribly wrong. But let's give it a try, shall we? So, these are oladu-schhki? Just try. They're delicious."
"Okay, sure," Sophie agreed, realizing that any resistance would be futile in the face of such enthusiasm. She used a knife and fork to place a couple of the circular fritters on her plate, then sliced off a few bites to eat. "Oh, that is good. Oladu-schhki," she repeated hesitantly, aware that she was likely giving Zemo more fuel for mockery. "Reminds me of, um, pancakes. And I guess you top them with these -- syrup, honey, sour cream?" she asked, pointing to the different serving dishes and awaiting Helen's confirmation.
"Much better than anything they offer at the hotel's breakfast buffet," Sophie declared. "It's basically porridge, oatmeal, yogurt, and more porridge." She placed a few more oladushki on her plate, covered by a generous helping of sour cream. "So judging by the accent, you didn't grow up around here. What was it that brought you to Sokovia?" she inquired of Helen. "I mean, back in the London office when we talked about establishing a foothold in Eastern Europe, they told us Sokovia was nowhere special, but it's on the way to everywhere special."
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Post by DarkSideCookie on May 13, 2021 14:04:08 GMT -8
Helen (tempplay by DarkSideCookie) "Okay, sure,"Helen watched her with an excitement that could make one think she was a gourmet cook and their guest a restaurant reviewer, while it hadn't even been herself who made them, but instead Helmut. He was, despite the fact that he'd been raised in a household with always a butler around, much better in cooking than she; Probably because he was an impassioned eater. "Oh, that is good. Oladu-schhki,""Reminds me of, um, pancakes. And I guess you top them with these -- syrup, honey, sour cream?""Yeah, you can eat them with practically anything, even with chocolate if you like," Helen confirmed with a smile while going with sour cream herself. "Much better than anything they offer at the hotel's breakfast buffet,""It's basically porridge, oatmeal, yogurt, and more porridge.""That depends on the hotel, but I know what you mean," she agreed. Whenever she and Helmut were somewhere on a trip, though, those they were staying in would serve a much better selection. But she remembered those porridge and oatmeal buffets from her times before all of this. And as if Birdie had been able to get a look inside her head, she suddenly asked about her origin. "So judging by the accent, you didn't grow up around here. What was it that brought you to Sokovia?""I mean, back in the London office when we talked about establishing a foothold in Eastern Europe, they told us Sokovia was nowhere special, but it's on the way to everywhere special.""That would be because of this fine man," Helen replied with a soft smile in her husband's direction, who was still acting rather passive but now seemed to listen more attentively. She turned her eyes back at Birdie. "I can be lucky that his family business had actually brought him to Pittsburgh in Pennsylvania." Just when it seemed like Helen was going to go on with the story of how the young married couple had met, suddenly, the noise of a small glass bowl, masterfully getting slid along the tabletop, straight into their guest's direction, was interrupting their chitchat.
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Post by DarkSideCookie on May 13, 2021 14:04:37 GMT -8
"Try this," Zemo said as he pushed one of the self-made dips, based on bell pepper and walnut, towards their guest, just in time before his wife would start to spill some more private stuff about them. Until now, he'd remained on the sidelines, but he didn't like the direction this was taking, even if this woman would be a workmate who he knew for years. There were stories that didn't need to be told, especially, when parts of them were stretching the truth. "If you aren't allergic to nuts, that is."
Topic of conversation successfully redirected. Zemo didn't like to do this, or maybe only a bit, but, fortunately, his wife was easy to fiddle when it came to this.
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Post by DarkSideCookie on May 13, 2021 14:05:10 GMT -8
Helen (tempplay by DarkSideCookie) "Yah, those are not for me," Helen tossed in with a wave of her hand. "I wish I could give it a try, though, but any sort of nut would instantly make me raise like one of these pancakes." She chuckled, then wondered if she was too chatty. On the other hand, Helen was actually glad to finally meet someone who Helmut knew from work. He was always making such a secret of it that one could think he'd be an intelligence agent or something. Funny thought.
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