outsiders | oo1. ( video ; event - backdated to the bulk of the hoarde )

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oo1. ( video ; event - backdated to the bulk of the hoarde )

[ It's a bit of a mess, when the feed clicks on. Natasha's been keeping her head down — there's a few things you need to get a handle on when you get plummeted head-first into a new enviroment. There's the economy, socio-political climate, technology; today's way of flying under the radar isn't necessary tomorrow's, and that can get a little getting used to when seeming one thing and being another is your bread and butter.

Not that this does well for first impressions. She looks alright, if painted with tell-tale signs of blood and dirt and grime — not as messy as some of the others, though, which is probably as good a sign as any that she's not been a front-liner. She's somewhere in the district, surrounded by vague shadows and pillars. Also, dead things. Not really a good place to be right now, Zeta. ]

I don't think I've ever liked Jules Verne. [ But at least it's not Ten Thousand Leagues. Her eyes track something to her left, tension settling in her shoulders. A flash of red as she turns, firing four shots in quick succession; there's the slump of a wailing adjutant as they make their mark.

Natasha's mouth quirks into something that might almost be a smile, if a wry one, giving the firearm she picked up off a dead merc a few bodies back a little shake. ]

Anyone wanna help a girl out? I'm almost out of toys, and I like keeping my options open.

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[Dun's sick and tired of twisting his blade into alien gut and gore, and he nearly, nearly does not want to answer this call. Still, no decent man could ever leave a woman to be in danger like this.]

Where's your location?

[ A woman in danger? Careful. A woman in need, certainly. Of a bigger gun, anyway. ]

Would you like co-ordinates or a placemarker? [ Wryly: ] I see columns and aliens.

[It can't be helped, he's just old-fashioned. Like, 2nd century AD old-fashioned.]

Something a little bit more specific-!!

[Whoops, nearly got hit by that blast. Dun rolls to the side and, grabbing a piece of sharp debris nearby, hurls it at the Adjutant so hard that even Natasha should be able to hear that squish.]

Co-ordinates, now.

[ It's a nice change, being surrounded by competence. Not that that lessens the danger any.

Her reply comes way of a short ping. She's technologically capable even if science-fiction has never been her niche, a tiny visual blip that marks her location along with her location. ]

Follow the yellow brick road.

Edited 2013-02-25 07:08 (UTC)

What are you talking about, I don't see any yel-

[There's a small explosion to his left and then the feed is switched off as Dun addresses the source of the explosion.

A few minutes later, Natasha should see him running up the road, dodging and slicing his way through the Adjutants. He's covered in blue muck and blood, but the blood doesn't seem to be all his.]

[ Well, he made it. That's a good sign.

Natasha didn't come here with much, nothing but the clothes on her back and training she already knew. The latter's been just useful enough — right now she knows she'll run out of whatever these things run on soon (clips of some kind), but she's acrobatic enough that she pulls off some kind of Matrix-like flip, running up a pillar and using that momentum to leap behind her enemy, shooting it twice in the back.

Her jacket's going to be ruined by the end of this. Which is a shame, because she really likes her jacket. Stomping the creature for good measure, Natasha ticks an eyebrow in his direction once she's finished and they have time to catch their breath. ]

It's a reference from a 1939 film adaptation of a book. [ A beat. ] The yellow road.

[Dun raises an eyebrow at her acrobatic and fighting ability; he's impressed. He'll get to that whole time-displaced warrior thing later, but right now what they need to do is get out of here to somewhere safe.]

I'll get rid of the obvious ones; you use your gun and shoot off any who try and sneak up on us. I have co-ordinates for a safe house and for a healer, if you're in need of some medicine, but your position is unsafe. There are more coming down the road towards us so make your choice quick and let's go.

[ Natasha, in contrast, doesn't seem to be in too much of a hurry — she's had a goal from the start, which is generally what infiltrators do, though maybe going in half-armed wasn't a good idea. Hence the PSA.

She shifts her weight, cocking her hip to the side. ]

I don't suppose you know where a large amount of unguarded weaponry is?

Take your pick from the dead mercenaries around here.

[Dun jabs his thumb at the direction where he came from.]

They won't be needing them anymore. I don't know where you'll find the small projectiles, but the guns are free game.

[And by small projectiles, he means bullets.]

[ So we're all in agreement then: subtly asking a non-native where the more specialized weaponry is is not a good way to approach the topic.

Well, at least she's got a temporary (time displaced) companion out of it. ]

Safehouse it is.

[ She'll start humming the yellow brick road song, now. Sorry, Dun. Adrenaline makes her someone who likes to quip jokes. ]

[He's seen weirder battle quirks; popping jokes and humming show tunes is pretty tame compared to what some of his comrades do.

Dun takes point and leads the way. As they cross a road and turn a corner, there's that familiar whispering sound and a flash of blue coming their way. Dun evades the attack and starts charging straight towards the Adjutant, his podao raised for the kill. But while he's busy clearing the way forward, he misses the creeping creatures in the left alleyway. It's partly due to that being his blind side but mostly due to his impatience and rashness.]

[ She stops the humming almost as soon as they start leading into more open territory, something more streamlined and focused settling into her expression. It's a good thing she's worked with both teams and partners who have impatience and rashness in spades; Natasha takes cover half-behind some collapsed debris and fires off a few strategically placed shots, aimed at the weak-points that she's (so far) managed to observe on the creatures.

She only spares Dun a single glance out the corner of her eye. It's not to figure out if he's a capable fighter — it's to figure out how he fights, because Natasha knows a little something about unit cohesion. Or whatever.

(—Alright, maybe the weapon choice leads to a few questions of its own.) ]

[From the clean and powerful blows to his strong grip as he parries and defends himself against the Adjutants' attacks, it's clear that he's a veteran of many fights. He's got good endurance and it looks like he's able to take quite a few blows without letting it stop his momentum. His sheer determination to see the fight through and accomplish the mission is in every swing of his sword; this is a person who never gives up on the chase, someone who never lets up once he has set his sight on something and is willing to push aside everything till he accomplishes his end.

Personal harm is no deterrent. An Adjutant lashes out at him and gives him a glancing blow to his torso, but even then he merely pushes himself off the wall and plunges his sword through its sack. There's a dangerous gleam in his eye but no great anger, just slight irritation. He's used to hard fights and injuries and battles that actually push him to his utmost limit; this irritation is nothing compared to what he's been through before.

He makes no comment about Natasha's help, but that might be because he's busy fighting off more of them and because he doesn't have the time for niceties at the moment. He's definitely well-versed in Chinese martial arts and weaponry; he practices no other style and displays strict and disciplined adherence to the different move sets and stances.]

[ Natasha's got her own hang-ups — she works stealth, a back-line fighter through wars not battles, and even then her normal partner is someone she's so in-tune with it barely requires conscious effort. So maybe even the Black Widow can get rusty — it takes her a little while to sync in, because that's what she does best, or maybe that just means she's grown complacent in her partnership with Hawkeye.

It doesn't matter, because eventually, she fills in the blanks where Dun doesn't. He's a front-line fighter, she can see that, built for both strength and endurance through training and discipline — it speaks well of his character, at least. In comparison, Natasha's lighter on her feet, disabling what she can before going in for the kill, having picked up another pistol somewhere along the way as she darts around him and across the battlefield.

It takes them a little while to clear through the bulk of it, but a professional is a professional, and at the end of it Natasha has no qualms about checking for any spare heatsinks around the battlefield.

Mildly, because there's really only one question that's interesting enough to be asked right now: ]

When are you from?

[She's an amazing partner to have; what he lacks in speed and dexterity is covered by this other woman. He's seen precious few fighters who are as flexible and fast as she is.

Dun's got a few questions of his own too, but ladies first. Wiping his sword on the dead body of a merc, he keeps himself busy while answering her.]

Was I that obvious? Or is this yellow road something that most after my time would know?

209 AD.

I'm observant, [ is her reply. Short, sweet, to the point, and technically true. Which is a pretty good effort.

It's also not the answer she was expecting — 209 AD is a long time ago — but it's an answer that fits, and that's enough for the moment as she loots around. ]

Though the yellow road didn't help. Cultural references have the tendency to date you.

What about you? Where...When are you from?

[ He disapproves of scavenging, it's usually a sign of an undisciplined army, but desperate times call for desperate measures and the mercenaries weren't exactly innocent. Still he's got his honour and pride and it's only because of those traits that he keeps his hands away from the dead.

She is not bound by the same code as him; a possible hint to her profession.]

Are you a thief? Or a swordswoman for hire?

[ What's dead should stay dead. If they don't, it's often because you just didn't do a good enough of a job. Besides, what's the saying? To the victor goes the spoils? (Not that Natasha puts much stock in that, but priorities rapidly shift in the face of an alien hoarde. As she's found out for the second fucking time.)

There's the click-hiss as she ejects something from her pistol, the heatsink popping into place with a neat, satisfying sound. ]

No and no. [ It's not a total lie — 'swordswoman' isn't quite accurate, but people usually react better to that than 'killer for hire'. ] I'm from 2012.

You fight well enough to be one.

[He watches her movements with some interest. He's seen others do that with the guns too, removing something from it and replacing it with something else.]

If that's so, then you know how these guns work.

[There might be a hint of grudging respect and envy there; he hates being so left behind and outdated, especially when it comes to weaponry.]

I wouldn't say no to trip around the world right now. Or anywhere that didn't involve this clean up, really.

Looks like you need an upgrade.

[ Her mouth pitches a little strangely, a smile that's not unfriendly but still a little dry. The feed shakes a little as Natasha bends down, no doubt looting pockets or something-a-rather. ]

Looks like. Don't you hate it when your weaponry clashes with your outfit?

Why I never use sniper rifles. Never did find the boots to match.

Pistols or something heavier?

Pistols, unless merc-level isn't something I should settle for. Garroting wire, smoke grenades.

[ A beat, then Natasha adds: ]

Well. If the future still has those.

[Aw, a girl after her own heart.]

Oh, it's all about the flashbang these days. Health reasons, I guess.

Got coordinates, or should I just start yelling Marco?

That sounds fun. [ Give her a minute; she's still trying to get the hang of this thing.

Kasumi will get a ping soon enough, directing her to somewhere down into the district. It's flagged with a tiny message: ]

polo.

[That gets a laugh as she switches into stealth mode to slink along over to Mr. Polo.]

Marco.

[The call is accompanied by a heavy pistol getting tossed at Natasha from the shadows. Kasumi herself is staying in electronic-enhanced stealth, wanting to see the other woman's fighting style before joining the fray.

What can she say? She's got a flare for the dramatic.]

[ Well, dramatic she'll get. Natasha's shoulders snap up with tension, and she's got the (somewhat mediocre) pistol she already had pointed and aimed straight into the shadows. There's almost no part of her that wavers — including the expression on her face, which isn't a frown of focus so much as a total absence of expression. Pure instinct. That kind of thing.

Still— jumping at shadows is a no-go, and Natasha visibly forces herself to relax after a long beat, crouching down to pick up the pistol and giving it a quick once-over.

Dryly, still glancing up: ]

I don't think it counts if I can't see you.

Is that how it goes? Oops.

[There's a definite underlying tone of pure, upbeat amusement as Kasumi deactivates the stealth field and steps into sight. Well, as much into sight as she ever is he cowl of her coat still obscuring most of her face. ]

I never was too good at following the rules.

[ She's seen that done before on the Helicarrier, but miniaturizing that for single, individual agent use? Damn. Sure, she hadn't needed it, but that was before the world was catapaulted a couple hundred years technology-wise.

To Natasha's credit, she doesn't look surprised at the reveal, just a little curious. Or maybe that's the point. Look one thing, be another; kind of her motto in life. ]

Let me guess: you didn't bring me one of those.

Only the first one's semi-free. Nothing personal, just good business.

[Not that it's really been about business since Shepard and his damn suicide mission became a standard part of her life. But seeing as she'd survived certain death so far, it didn't hurt to keep options open. Even if Omega wouldn't have been her first, second, or fiftieth choice on where to get that going again.]

And I guarantee the first one's still worth the strings attached.

I had a feeling. [ But Natasha doesn't seem to be particularly offended or even affected one way or the other — if anything, she looks a little more at ease. She might not like them, but debts and exchanges and being owed, well. That kind of thing is pretty standard when you find yourself in a foreign enviroment. Though she's not sure any of those manuals ever mentioned space.

Straightening, Natasha tips her chin, a kind of well, alright type gesture. ]

What do I owe you?

Oh, I'll come up with something. For a down-payment? How about putting that to use.

[A quick reach back to her belt, and Kasumi's got a matching weapon in hand. It might not exactly be the best business model, but hang out with enough heroes and it starts to rub off. And, anyway, it's not like she had a lot of other living options available at the moment.]

Don't you just hate uninvited house guests?

[ You know, Kasumi, this is turning out to be a pretty good meet-cute.

Natasha arches an eyebrow, her face pulling into an expression that manages to simultaneously convey both amusement and wry agreement. ]

And they didn't even bring any wine.

[ As if on cue, that's about when Natasha springs into action — she fights smart rather than rough, and it shows in the way she aims for specific anatomical points. ]

Then there's the mess they track all over the place- hm, though that may just've been how Omega looked to start. Hard to tell.

[A woman after her own heart. A tap of her fingers, and Kasumi flickers out of view again- only to reappear behind an enemy with pistol firing. Again and again. The grenades don't exactly hurt much, either.

Suffice to say, between the pair any enemies probably don't last that long. Overall, Kasumi is pleased with her choice in investment.]

Nice down payment. Now I know I don't want to be on your bad side.

Rather depends on your toy of choice, doesn't it?

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oo1. ( video ; event - backdated to the bulk of the hoarde )

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permavideo | miss goto pls one day we will see your badass lipstick :c

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