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

[debts]

[ 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.

Comments

» action

[debts]

[ 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.

Action

[anarrowtotheeye]

[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.

Action

[debts]

[ 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?

Perma-Action

[anarrowtotheeye]

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.]

[debts]

[ 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. ]

[anarrowtotheeye]

[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.]

[debts]

[ 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.) ]

[anarrowtotheeye]

[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.]

[debts]

[ 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?

[anarrowtotheeye]

[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.

[debts]

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.

[anarrowtotheeye]

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?

[debts]

[ 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.

[anarrowtotheeye]

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.]