red_room | Rules of Engagement [locked to Han Solo]

It's just getting on to dark in the Nexus when a familiar whine cuts through the muggy evening air. The noise from the open ramp of the Millenium Falcon grows until the underlying rumble of a motorcycle engine cuts through the thick air as Natasha pulls up just outside the ship.

Nat hops off the bike quickly, but takes her time removing all the gear she'd worn. The suit hadn't been cheap to get and getting it dirty before the onset was unheard of. She carefully removes the helmet, the track suit she'd worn over the nice clothes, and pulls the dress shoes she'd bought out of the bag of gear she'd carried along and carefully slips them on before making her way up the ramp and onto the ship.

Everything about the outfit Nat selected had been carefully considered all the way down to the cuff links. Granted, this getup is designed to impress her target and not so much a space pilot like Han is, but he should still be able to help judge the way she carries herself. Walks. Talks. She'd even taken a leaf out of the good captain's book when it came to styling her hair. Giving it a bit of the windswept wave instead of slicking it back or the like.

"Knock, knock."

It's still so weird hearing a mans voice when she talks. Wrong. But if this stays for a day or so, she'll be one more thread complete on her web.

Threaded | Flat

It's been quite a day for some of the people in the nexus. He supposed he'd rather know, than not know, that there was weirdness happening - but ultimately - he doesn't feel particularly inclined to get caught up in it.

After catching up with Nat? He retreated back to the ship in a bit of a sullen mood. Thoughts of I'm not going anywhere while this is going on and better them than me cascading through his mind. Han, frankly, was a lot more comfortable thinking in that grumpy and self-protective state of mind than he would have been reflecting too deeply about that earlier encounter.

"Come on up."

Han calls from in side of the Falcon with the slightest of hesitations. If not for the fact that he knew the sound of 'Tasha's bike so well, he probably wouldn't have been able to identify the deepened tones as hers.

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