Casinos. Every security personnel’s worst nightmare- alternatively a dream to those who prefer to slip beneath the surface of controlled chaos and navigate the undulating waves of elation and monetary despair. She’s spent her fair share of time in them, more for work than for play, but that most certainly doesn’t imply that the chips sitting heavy in her palm feel foreign in any way. Good energy pervades the room, as it should, and Maria’s scanning the crowd ( already she’s picked out the plainclothes- or in this case, not-so-plainclothes security in their tuxes standing just a touch too rigid to hint that they’re having any fun ). Another shift of the chips in her hand, attention turns to the grid of tables hosting your run of the mill casino games, away from Tony Stark holding court at the other end of the playing area near the slots.
An exhale, almost a sigh, and she slips past the bottleneck of people to claim a chair at an empty poker table where the dealer already looks bored with smiling. Socializing can wait, and the only other person in the room she’d prefer to talk to looks busy. The dealer gives her a clipped nod and she has him break down one of the chips into smaller denominations. There’s movement to her left and Maria tilts her head, a curled smirk manifesting when she recognizes the blonde.
“Didn’t think you’d be so eager to get your ass handed to you again, Carter.”