When We're Rollin Through the Wild Wild West

[geonomy]

Who: Everyone! EVERYONE!
Broadcast: IF YOU WANNA
Action: Everywhere! EVERYWHERE!
When: Mid-September - Mid-October

[How's your ship doing, pardners? Is it still pretty damaged? Is it glitching out hardcore? Well, there is one place to land to take care of all that, and that's on a dusty old moon in front of a planet that no one wants to go to. On this moon, you'll find a civilization that looks a lot like one's stepped into a wild west movie, hardened cowpolk and mutant horses and all. Will you become a vigilante, hunting bounties and stopping gangs from doing their dirty work? Will you go exploring planetside, with a cowboy hat and a stalk of wheat in your mouth to complete the look? Good luck with that; there is no wheat. This town ain't big enough for all you flooters, but make it so! For the ratings!

In other words, it's a planet mingle! Get 'er done!]

[September Planet info here]

Comments

[tothefly]

Boys like these always have ideas. You know how it is.

[The corner of Natasha's mouth twitches at the comment. Brutes. Such a lady, Peggy Carter. So polite. But with one hell of a right hook, apparently, and Natasha gets one brief chance to see that in action before she's moving, too, taking out the opponents closest to her.]

[A jab to the throat, a block countered by a fist, a kick to the side of a denim-clad knee; she fights like it's instinct, with a dancer's grace and economy. The men don't know what hit them. And in the middle of it all, she can't help the way her eyes stray to the other woman, watching how she fights.]

[mucked]

[ they're different -- so different -- but their styles are not uncomplimentary. romanoff dances; carter barrels, brawls, and brings a wildness behind each hit. her 'technique' had been bred and bolstered by british basic training. but it weaves alongside the other woman's art, and combined it fills out the whole spectrum of the fight. peggy isn't to know it, but the synchronicity of their actions is rooted in how familiar her fighting style is to one steve rogers's. hard knees and swinging fists.

peggy drops her shoulder and slams a man into the hard brick of the adjoining building. the thud is heavy, a little wet, and teeth are jostled out of place. but in the aftermath of such a hit, only two remain. and they're beginning to think twice about engaging the women once more. ]

[tothefly]

[There's something almost recognizable in the way Peggy fights, but it's something Natasha can't quite put her finger on. She's trained, clearly, but she's from a school of straight lines and direct hits. Natasha fights sideways, joint locks, ripped tendons. But they don't work badly together; in fact, they make a reasonably decent team. Never go for the same guy, never get in each others' way, and by the time Natasha lays one of the last few out with a crushed windpipe and a broken arm, the rest are backing off. Not retreating just yet, but reconsidering their options.]

[Looking around, Natasha takes a moment to breathe and find the other woman, assessing the situation. Offers her a brief nod, the raise of an eyebrow: you good?]

What, are we done already?

[mucked]

[ there's a split and will-be-a-bruise on her chin, but she doesn't mind. it's a consequence of her style: straight and tankish. peg touches it -- gingerly -- and resists the urge to spit. what she does instead is offer romanoff a curt nod. good. ]

How tedious to only ever find dancing partners who can't keep up with the steps. [ part bravado and part tragedy. and yet she smirks. ]

[tothefly]

[Most of Natasha's bruises, if they show, are going to be on her arms. There's a faint pink mark on one cheek that's going to be an interesting shade of green later, some bloody knuckles, but all in all the pair of them both look pretty good--especially considering just how many full-grown men are sprawled on the ground in various states of unconscious and injured.]

[Peggy's response is bravado, maybe, but that doesn't make it less entertaining. She likes her spirit. Even smiles herself, despite the ache it causes in her cheek.]

You read my mind. What do you say, boys? Want to dance again?

[It's an invitation with teeth.]