[Natasha's first priority is walking the circumference of the room, looking for any possible way out. She doesn't know how she got here, but she's definitely not going to just stand around waiting for whoever the chair's for to show up. Touching the absinthe doesn't even cross her mind.]
Hmm. Discomfiting. Not that she lets any of that show.
Natasha walks back toward the center of the room and crosses her arm. "If anyone's listening, why don't we skip the 'creep out the prisoner' part of the program and skip to whatever you have planned next?"
The voice, grating and distorted, issues from directly behind her, and there is, suddenly, a twisted figure eight feet tall, clad in black leather and a horned motorcycle helmet. The muscles beneath the leather appear too many, too much, not attached in quite the right places or the right proportions - as if someone took multiple bodies and braided them together.
Natasha whirls around in surprise before she can stop herself, but quickly schools her features and posture into something a little more nonchalant, crossing her arms with a defiant jut of her chin. Though she can't quite mask the slight tension in her shoulders.
Interrogation. Natasha knows all the things that that not-so-innocuous word can mean. The Red Room trains its students well. Even so, she can't hide her eye-rolling at the dramatic delivery.
"Using 'interrogation' and an ominous pause? Really?"
Natasha considers this piece of information. "Enter play" suggests a game. She is guessing that whoever this person is, they want to win. Which means they're likeliest to answer questions that will further that end.
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Natasha walks back toward the center of the room and crosses her arm. "If anyone's listening, why don't we skip the 'creep out the prisoner' part of the program and skip to whatever you have planned next?"
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The voice, grating and distorted, issues from directly behind her, and there is, suddenly, a twisted figure eight feet tall, clad in black leather and a horned motorcycle helmet. The muscles beneath the leather appear too many, too much, not attached in quite the right places or the right proportions - as if someone took multiple bodies and braided them together.
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"Then?"
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"Using 'interrogation' and an ominous pause? Really?"
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"What am I going to be 'entering play' for?"
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"Oh, really."
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She's genuinely curious. It's the sort of thing Nick Fury would do. She'll take any insight she can get into how his mind works.
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"Careful not to choke."
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Then Natasha will find herself in Liminal Space.