Entry tags:
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.
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.
no subject
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.
no subject
[ 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?
no subject
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.
no subject
[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.]