The aftermath was surprisingly… normal.
If, of course, you ignored the twenty highly trained, recently brainwash freed, killer assassins that were now awkwardly sitting and standing around my living room.
Interestingly enough, I seemed to be the most relaxed of the entire group, most likely due to us being in my house; widows being in control of their actions for the first time in their lives.
That or I'm just an odd dude. Which, could be true.
I was getting a lot of looks, not in any romantic or thankfully, murderous ways—more like the way a cat watches you go about your day. I think a lot of them were just surprised to see my face, and my subsequent good looks… or maybe it was my age.
Huh… talking about age I think my birthday is coming up soon. Seventeen again, I'm almost the same age as when I died.
Nat & Yelena stood in front of my TV, talking to a number of widows as the room filled with the scent of caramelizing onions, carrots, and garlic.
A massive pot rested on my stove, my hands peeling and chopping away at a pile of irregularly cut sweet potato chunks.
To feed so many hungry battle-hardened assassins it was vital for me to pull out the big guns—my signature in my last life, Japanese Curry.
It was easy, filling and homely. The secret to feeding many mouths was following the two golden rules—Hot and a lot.
Onions were sliced and peeled away into thin strips that would melt into sweet aromas, a number of garlic gloves crushed and diced, added into the pot at the perfect time as to not burn them. Remember to lightly salt and throw whatever spices smell good to you. Carrots and potatoes are cut into bite-sized haphazard chunks and lightly softened. I added a small drizzle of light-soy sauce (if you know you know), letting the vegetable medley fry a little before pouring luke-warm water over the sizzling concoction.
The water level is important—too much and you risk a watery curry, too little and you risk burning all of your hard work away.
Just enough to cover the vegetables, with a tiny bit extra on top just to be safe.
Simmer for thirty to forty minutes, but in the meantime it's important to start the rice.
Wash. It.
How much? Till the rice water is clear enough to count the grains—3/4ths a cup per person, which meant I was using three rice cookers simultaneously.
At some point during the whole cooking process I began subconsciously using the Force. Rice swashed and drained away under invisible hands, a ladle stirred the pot while others cleaned as I worked.
I began bringing out plates and utensils, carefully stacking them beside the rice cookers, two small bowls also coming out. One to hold water for the rice serving spoon (stops the sticking) and the other to help plate the rice into neat little mounds.
I brought out a small keg of stolen Kamar-Taj honey mead, Mordo's personal supply. The final step in the whole process was adding the curry blocks when the simmer was ready, I went with the gold box, personally, and hot usually—but in this case I kept to mild.
When all was said and done, rice cooking, pot simmering, the room swelled with the scents of labour while the Force drenched over it with a sickly sweet scent, the Widows' anticipation felt and seen through badly hidden glances and gulps.
The sight of my telekinetic cooking overshadowed by hungering mouths.
Nat paused in her talks and seeing the state of the room, sighed.
"We'll postpone this for after dinner, thank you again Riven for hosting us."
I shrugged, "I didn't give y'all much of a choice to be honest… my bad. Good news is that dinner should be ready in less than ten."
It was thankful that I was convinced into buying one of them origami tables, a teak wooden circle that spiraled out gracefully into one large enough to seat fifteen, and a very cozy 20+.
The Widows' formed themselves into an orderly line, passing me a plate that I would carefully flip a small bowl of rice onto, before they excitedly scurried over to thick sweet curry. Some poured theirs directly onto the Rice, others to the side—Yelena for some reason turned the Rice mound into a volcano, then poured the curry into it like molten lava.
The mead was in high demand, the honied slightly alcoholic fizz was a perfect compliment to the hot curry.
When everyone was finally seated, a tense silence filled the room, eyes darting between Nat, Yelena and I.
I glanced to my left at the dynamic duo to see them smirking at me expectedly.
I sighed and shook my head with a smile, grabbing my glass of mead and lifting it into the air.
It took a second, but eventually the rest of the table followed, I cleared my tired throat.
"To freedom." I softly dedicated, my words spreading into the air and sinking into the Widows' like dynamite on a dam. I felt the Force bubble, before a heart warming wave of emotion blossomed into the world. Lilies & Lilac twisted with refreshing Mint scent. The homely aroma of fresh baked goods laced with gentle hints of roses, dappled with vanilla.
I couldn't help but smile, the sort of smile you don't realize holding until the happiness tugs in your heart.
"Let's eat!" I cheered, and chorus of grateful agreements followed. Moans of satisfaction filled the room as people took their first bites, each hum another strum of my heartstrings.
I ate slowly, bathing in the sauna of Force scents—the mead slowly embracing me in an alcoholic hug.
And thank the Force for magical mead, since normal stuff wouldn't get me buzzed. Maybe I should gift some to Cap.
It was only then I noticed that Melina and Alexei weren't here. Leaning over I asked Nat.
"Where's… Madam Vosotokoff?"
Nat gave me a soft smile. "Said she wanted to finally go on a proper date, dragged Alexei along with her." She explained.
I hummed, "So… what's the plan for all of ya?"
Yelena let out a mischievous scoff, "What? Don't want twenty three beautiful ex-assassins in your house?"
I chuckled, "Trust me, I'm in heaven right now, and no, please don't feel a rush to leave—I'll house you guys for as long as you want… to the best of my abilities of course."
Nat shook her head with a wry smile, "He really does see us as stray cats…" She muttered with a whisper.
Yelena let out a coy mocking purr, somehow in a thick Russian accent, only to receive an elbow from Nat.
"Quiet little kitten," She motherly admonished her, "And as for our plans…" Her voice drowned out for a moment as a hush covered the room. The Widows' now all mostly done with their food, some even seconds and thirds — turned attentive, curious even wary heads to our trio.
Nat raised her voice, taking an authoritative yet comforting tone. "...Here are your options, at least—that I can think of. Feel free to give your input: One, you go your own way, try and make a life for yourself, the life that was stolen from you. You'll have my full support-"
"Mine too." I interrupted with a wave. Nat gave me an appreciative smile.
"-and Riven's. Or two, you come under me, I work for an underground organization fighting for the world from the shadows, your skills would be used for good, you'd have a job, security and something worth fighting for."
For some reason, something spurred me to open my mouth. Maybe it was Nat's speech, the intoxicating feeling of dinner, or maybe it was something more… a guiding hand.
"Can I add an option?" I asked Nat, which turned a lot of heads to me.
She gave me a curiously raised brow, Yelena's eyes narrowing at me with reluctant suspicion.
"Depends." Nat said with a nod.
"Well," I said, turning to the wider table. "As you all know, my name is Riven, Riven Thorne. I don't think we've had the chance to properly introduce ourselves—it's a pleasure to meet you all…"
"...To be completely honest this is a spur of the moment thing, but I feel like I could make it work. I'm thinking of starting my own organization—similar to what Nat is offering with a whole lot less foundation. It would be a group fighting for the preservation of Earth, nothing overtly political, and more-so focused on threats unseen, and the betterment of the environment—Earth as a whole, if you will. One side would be active duty field operatives, directly engaging in threats, the other would be a research and development arm, focused on supporting the other, while also potentially operating above-board to help fix our dying planet—I'm talking clean energy, trying to solve world hunger, disease all that jazz. I would head the organization, but I wouldn't be the end all be all of the thing—I'm looking for people who can think for themselves, individuals unafraid of fighting for what is right, people who can see the wrong in the wrong and charge it with careful calculative steps. Oh, and for full clarity I also work with the same organization that Nat does."
My spiel was met with a mixture of curiosity and reluctant hums. I wasn't too sure of it all myself to be quite frank, yet I'd be remiss of the opportunity to recruit highly capable individuals, even if I didn't have a single clue as to it all.
"Just, give it a thought." I added.
A sudden unknown voice spoke up from the other end of the table, a woman maybe in her early twenties, with long black hair and grey eyes pressed into a sharp face and olive skin.
"Would we be able to do the things you do?" She asked matter of factly, this made a lot of heads turn to me, all very curious as to my answer.
I assumed she meant what I do with the Force, or maybe it was the space door. Teleportation, after all, was sick as fuck.
"What is your name?"
"Sofia Maracosa."
"Nice to meet you Ms. Maracosa and to answer your question… I'm going to try. I'm actually unsure if I can, but I've got some ideas—and even so, if you wanted it, I'd be able to provide you with other forms of power. Not that power is a requirement, merely another tool."
That got Nat's attention, Yelena's too, their eyes widening and narrowing in the blink of an eye.
"Thank you." Sofia replied.
"I'm unsure on Nat's timeline for all of you, but feel free to crash here until you get yourselves back on your feet, there are two large guest rooms upstairs that I'll fill with beds, sorry for the bunking situation, but I'll see what I can do about it tomorrow." I said, finishing with a tired yawn.
I offered to take peoples plates but was met with a resounding no. I cooked and shouldn't clean apparently. How nice.
I left the ex-assassins to their own devices upstairs, slinking away tiredly to my base.
"Hey Nex."
[Hey Riven, you should get some sleep.]
I let out a tired grunt of agreement, "Yeah, heard. But I need to setup a few things first."
—
For the next two hours I had Nex begin a number of projects—firstly, I needed more money.
The amount I had now was enough for myself, but it was not nearly enough for a shadow organization, even if I did steal half of everything I owned.
To that effort I had Nex analyze the current energy markets, sectors I could enter with the technology I had at my disposal. I planned to make full use of Wakanda's tech, stripped and modified of Vibranium since I couldn't just go around advertising that I had their beloved sacred metal.
Tony already had a leg deep in the clean energy game, but his net wasn't spread as wide as it could be. Mostly relegated to New York and surrounding states.
I planned to go even further beyond.
Secondly, I also planned to take a gander at Genetically Modified Foods—namely, trying to create new strains resistant to disease, blight and able to thrive in even the hardest of conditions. I had some theories over using Vibranium as a catalyst to evolve plants and grains, hopefully getting them to a point where they'd be stable even without consistent Vibranium energy exposure.
Thirdly, I also had Nex begin scouring the nearby mountains, coastline, and even potential islands I could buy.
I'd need a better base of operations, and while I could expand my house quite a bit more with space expansion runes and permanent space doors, I believe a more dedicated space was in order.
She narrowed down the results to areas around the Blue Mountains, some parts of long-island, but the most interesting find was a private 435 acre, privately owned island in Peonic Bay, at the eastern end of Long Island.
It was just about seventy miles to the east of my house as the crow flies, with plenty of space within and water around.
Owned by an investor named Luis Ham, who also, unsurprisingly turned out to be one of the richest people on the planet.
And coincidentally had large ties to Fisk Industries, operating a small R&D arm that does fuck all really, made crappy E.V's and other useless products.
It was truly ideal, a large private island, close to the heart of superhero New York, and furthermore, owned by some sketchy investor that I could have Nex blackmail—for the greater good, of course.
Ironically enough, I was about to Robin Hood, Robins Island.
With those projects running, I turned my attention to developing a structure for this so called Organization.
I thought about stealing from the Jedi Order—but their philosophy was too skewed, too stringent for rapid growth and development and the Sith were just a cult.
And I can't be running a cult, it'd go straight to my head.
Ah, and I also need to pick a name.
My list was getting long, but with Nex's help it wouldn't be too bad. The only problem was school was going to start again soon, and my schedule would have to shift around it.
I left the base, trudging up the stairs, barely glancing at the small gaggle of women watching a nature documentary under a number of fuzzy blankets.
I passed by the second floor, seeing Scooby-doo type commotion between the guest rooms and bathrooms.
When I reached my bedroom I let out a tired sigh. The peace and quiet of the night settling into my bones. The city skyline in the distance alive with the constant revolution of the world.
I took a quick shower, wiping the grime of death off my shoulders before unceremoniously slumping into my bed.
Yet, before I fully drifted into my well-deserved slumber, the Force pulsed, my senses registering an intruder sneaking into my room. I didn't feel any hostility, just the scent of hot-burning embarrassment.
…ayo?