Workin' Nine to Five[Natasha, Orion]

Note to self; Don't go divin' headfirst into the maw of a volcanic beast... Christ, how many times am I gon' end up sittin' in a hospital?

Such was the central thought that danced around in the whimsical blonde's head as she relaxed against a hospital bed. Compared to last time, she was mighty thankful this particular battle didn't leave her with any injuries that would hinder her overall movement. Now, don't go getting things confused. Natasha wasn't exactly elated to experience having her skin endure being toasted to any degree, to say nothing of the burn marks streaking across various parts of her body - but it damn sight beat spending weeks laying in a bed without being able to move around.

To the woman who preferred an active lifestyle that featured a lot of jogging, that was the equivalent of locking her away in a cell. At the moment, she's currently allowing the good nurses and doctors to use healing agents on her body to treat her wounds. After all, it'd be foolish to risk getting an infection. There was some small vain part of her soul that wasn't all that fond of sporting burn scars, but she was confident enough in herself that she could pull a look like that off with the best of them. The charming nature went well beyond her physical attributes, anyway.

Another task from his psychiatrist. Some of his men were out on the battlefield supporting the Sternritter during their operations against the Hollow that spilt from that hole's maw. He was not allowed to participate due to the nature of his position. He had other tasks that required his attention, but due to detailing, no one will ever know. That leaves why he's here at the hospital. Well, since he's a leader, in a way, he was tasked with checking up on his men. He did not mind, but he did have to read up a bit on casual conversation and visiting the sick. He'd not want to say anything improper to them. Some of them lost friends and family because of all of this. As a killer turned soldier turned civilian, he's not the best at being supportive of things like this, but he'll try.

He had just finished talking to a few of them, continuing down the hall with pinpoint accuracy of every room he crossed. There are names he recognize and some he don't. However, as he passed by a certain name, he stopped, and waited. Soon doctors and nurses came out, and he slipped his way inside the room without a sound as his bleak eyes bore witness to the burn victim and her comfy bed.

"Good job, soldier," He greeted after a second of staring and assessing her newfound look.

He's no stranger to scars or burns.

"Thank ya kindly, sugar. Fancy meetin' you here, Orio."

Hazel eyes turned to observe the unassuming man entering her room. A familiar voice informed her of his presence, and she carefully turned her body around to gain a better view of his face. Visitors already, huh? That was the first thought that swept through her mind. The second was minor curiosity, which was quickly swept up within the teasing mischief in her next words. After all, this wasn't her first song and dance, and the familiarity of a friendly soul made it easier to address him with charming words.

"Looks like the knight in shinin' armor has returned to congratulate me on a battle well-fought. How've ya been, sweetheart? Sorry about these burns. This lavafella in Africa gave me fits."

Shining? Well, he'd resent being called anything bright. The shadows are more comfortable and easier to feel at ease in. If her were a shiny bulwark, she'd have found herself scorched by now, but he's cool and levelheaded, staring her down with platonically judging dark orbs.

"...You look fine. There's nothing wrong with your makeup," He muttered, pondering what would be fine to say in this situation.

Would she fine offense to him calling her burns makeup? In a way, he found them better than actual makeup. They're realistic, an etching of her bravery and the fact that she came back alive from a hopeless situation. The fact she can smile through it; he hopes a bit of what he had told her before had helped get them to here. However, he found it hard to share in her happiness and couldn't raise his lips to match hers.

"...I'm okay...."

Well, now he's stuck on what to do next. He had come to check in on her because he had recognized her name, but now that he's here, he's already lost on what to do. There are others he should go check up on, and she's fine. There's not much for them to really talk about, and he's not classy enough to make up stuff on the fly.

"Heh, I always thought a few battle scars would take my charming looks over the top. I'm glad you noticed, honey."

Natasha chortled softly at his unintentional compliment. There was hardly any offense present in her expression. Truth be told, even if most of these burns healed properly, she wanted to retain a few of them, to let them be proof that she survived an ordeal, that she needed to improve even further beyond her current station of power to avoid a similar result. Turning around in her hospital bed, she shot a playful gaze in his direction as she beckoned him forward. Even if he was paying visits to others, that didn't mean she had to part with his company so soon, right?

"I believe you since that stony expression of yours is a constant, but that doesn't mean we can't pass a little time and talk while I wait for these healing agents to kick in. Let me guess, you were payin' yer fellow soldiers a visit?"

Charming? He's unsure what she thinks of herself, but he doubts anything short of complete facial restructuring could diminish her looks. Though, telling her that out loud would only turn her into a bigger bully, and he can hardly keep up with the little jokes she share already. She's lucky he doesn't need to be anywhere since his whole day is pretty much checking up on people.

"I was assigned to by my therapist. She said it'll help build morale and give me a chance to practice socializing."

"I reckon your therapist has the right idea. A little' social interaction can do wonders for the soul. However, I don't quite know if this was the best time for that. It does help boost morale, though! Progress is still progress."

Sharing her honest opinion, Natasha didn't find anything inherently wrong with the practice. Honestly, it was a pretty good start, albeit somewhat less than ideal. After all, this wasn't her first rodeo. There were either soldiers who would entertain the idea or others who simply wanted to be alone, to reflect on prior battles. Since she cared about Orion, she didn't quite enjoy the idea of him enduring anything unpleasant, even if she felt he was strong enough to ignore stuff like that. It simply didn't sit right with her, though. After all, as the beacon of social interaction, who better was there to master the art than her? With a flamboyant flex of the arm, she pointed to herself with a wide grin across her face.

"Besides, honey, I'm a beacon of social interaction. If your therapist wants ya' to step out of your shell more and practice, she should just send ya my way. I'll gladly take ya out and show you the ropes."

"Ideal or not, it helps. Being rejected or accepted is all part of the process."

Not every interaction will end well. He knows that, and he's had enough of it, but the way he handled it was never quite right. Apparently, turning inward and running away from people isn't the correct response to disapproval. Go figure... Though, he couldn't help and let his face show a mockery of emotion as he seemed caught off guard by her flippant disregard for his situation to flex her ego. Honestly, that's what he wants, in a way. If he could just relax and put on a smile for no other reason but because he can...

"Natasha. You don't have to commit your time that way. I am sure you have other priorities than helping a weirdo."

The casual way he said it; obviously he understands that word enough to find it an appropriate label.

"Says who, pumpkin?"

A playful pout played across her lovely features, her burn-marked arms crossing together to emphasize the faux offense she took against his words. There wasn't any particular merit to his words. Natasha had history with individuals who definitely weren't what she would call the hallmark image of "normal." Adding to that, she enjoyed a challenge. The thought of pulling this stone-faced gunman out of her comfort zone was far too good to pass up. As though the healing agents were right on cue, Natasha slowly rose from her bed and approached the man, cocking her head to the side with a grin.

"Sure, I've got my fair share of priorities. Who don't? Doesn't mean I can't help out a fellow soldier in need, sugar. Let me help ya, Orio."

Orio. She threw that out again. He's unsure of that nickname, but he also doesn't have a name to give her besides Orion. The name Orion in general is a simple reminder of what he is. He sometimes wonder what his real name was before he was taken, but there's no point in thinking too long about bygone history.

"I hear people behind my back sometimes. It is easy to put up a front when someone's in your face, but..."

He paused, seemingly disinterested in finishing his sentence as his eyes evaded hers and looked to the side. She's closer now, and that made him feel smaller. Despite how he had approached her before, he's still weird with this stuff. It's way easier to talk to someone when work is involved, but this casual thing is just so weird to do. He just has to blurt out whatever goes through his mind? What if it makes her mad? What if he says something stupid?

"Do I really come off as needing help?" He then pondered, letting his mouth move with his thoughts for a change. Damn, did that sound pathetic though.