(no subject)

[outstandingbalance]

Who: Natasha Romanoff
Broadcast: Fleedwide
Action: Iskaulit to start with
When: 16 Nov

Video

[The broadcast is brief and obviously accidental. A young girl's face appears on screen, confused and tense, then almost at once her brows draw down and together in an intense frown. Her expression is dark and thoughtful as the feed shakes, then cuts out entirely.

For those paying attention, the corridors off the Islaulit can be identified behind her before the transmission ends.]

Action

[When she wakes up, a young Natasha finds herself in what appears to be a small dance studio. Unfamiliar, but not too shocking. The mirror, the barre, the wood flooring, are all things she's accustomed to. It isn't where she expects to be, but it is somewhere she would expect to wake up in a general sense, in a general way.

Waking up somewhere strange isn't completely shocking either.

It's not until she ventures out into the rest of the Iskaulit that she starts feeling out of her depth. She can't place where she is, even where she might be. There's no outside. The structures are nothing like she's scene before. The computers are completely alien to her. The people are worse. She avoids them, of course. At least at first. Sneaking through shadows and hidden corners, in ducts if she's lucky enough to find access. She observes what she can, trying to work together the situation as she can, applying what training she can. But how much she can do is limited.

Tiny spy is out of her depth.

Which is what forces her to come out of hiding. (Maybe that was the point?)

When she finally lets herself be approached, she's already determined to put on a lost, scared face. It's for the best. That way people will underestimate her. Trust her more. It's a good plan.

The expression might not be entirely fake, though, and she can't entirely hide her suspicious skittishness. The end effect isn't entirely unlike a stray cat begging for food.]

((OOC: Augment glitch? Come play with smol murder ballerina.))

Comments

iskaulit »

[mucked]

[ -- peggy's been shooting. shooting, of course, at the firing range. and with her old antique of a revolver, found on the dusty moon many stops ago, so it leaves a lingering stink of gunpowder in the air. and so it's with her shoulder-bag packed and her hair pinned up and her leather jacket worn once again that she strides her way through the iskaulit.

at first, she feels prone to ignore the girl. why should she approach? whoever she is, she's better met with someone else int he fleet -- someone else whose ways are kinder and whose generosity knows fewer limits. but something about the hungry look in the girl's eyes inspires peggy to stop. to stop, to frown, and to give the girl a measuring look. ]

-- You look lost. [ and she certainly does look lost. peggy's words are carefully chosen. ]

[outstandingbalance]

[Natasha frowns at the statement—and the accent. Mostly at the accent. Trying to think about what language she's hearing makes her uncomfortable, but she's sue it's not Russian.

For the moment, maybe better if she doesn't let on she understands? She shakes her head in what she thinks comes across as a sign she doesn't know what's being said.]

[mucked]

[ hm. peggy makes no secret of her sudden, sharpish curiousity. ordinarily, she might have assumed the girl spoke another language -- but with the augments in play, she figures that's impossible. she does think about clint barton, however, and his lack of hearing. ]

It's alright if you are -- lost, I mean. [ she tries to speak as clearly as she can. ] The Iskaulit is a largish ship.

[outstandingbalance]

[Natasha drops her eyes, still feigning ignorance. She files away the name though—a ship? That at least explained some things. Just not what she's doing here.

She doesn't speak. She's not sure she wants to reveal her own accent just yet.

No way of knowing if Peggy would trust her.]

[mucked]

Darling, I need something to work with. [ peggy's patience is infinite when 'on the job' -- but she's not working, now. hasn't been for some time. and she's never considered herself to be all that comfortable with children.

she glances down the hall -- thinking about how she very nearly reached the shuttle bay without any distractions. well, in for a pound... ]

Are you deaf, or merely shy? No shame in either option.

[ in for a penny. ]

[outstandingbalance]

[Natasha shakes her head again. Since she's started the act, she intends to carry through with it.

If she has to answer, it will be showing the minimum. She doesn't show any sign of understanding, and when she speaks it's deliberately in her native language.]

Do you speak Russian?

[She doubted it. Not many English speakers do.]

[mucked]

[ -- peggy harbours no reason to hide her surprise, and so she doesn't. her chin raises, and she gives voice to a sharp decided hm. her mouth tightens into a line as she decides how to proceed. cognizant, of course, that she must be purposeful and deliberate in order to reply in the same language.

the girl spoke in russian, and it was not translated -- and so she must read the same deliberation and purpose into her words, too. ]

I do. [ peggy answers. succinct. ]

[outstandingbalance]

[That's a surprise. Natasha leans in, not breaking character. She's young. She's lost. It's natural for her to react.]

What's going on here? Where is this?

[She also smells the gunpowder. Which means this woman is armed.]

[mucked]

It's a long story.

[ -- syllable by syllable, her russian proves itself. peggy appears comfortable in the language. easily mistaken for a native speaker, unless someone is paying very very close attention. ]

But it begins and ends with outer space -- the stars, and travelling among them. You've been brought here. We all were.

[outstandingbalance]

[She lets that sink in for a few heartbeats. Lets it sink in, but doesn't let herself believe it.]

That does sound like a story. There's nothing like this in space.

[mucked]

[ there are more things in heaven and earth, horation, than are dreamt of in your philosophy. but shakespeare translates poorly into russian -- at least, on the fly he does. so peggy watches the girl's face. she notes the lack of outright shock. the stern, but uncertain expression. ]

No, I didn't think there was either. But lo and behold -- here we are. [ ... ] Were you just brought in?

[outstandingbalance]

[Natasha sways a little at that, making a noncommittal sound. Apparently, if Peggy is telling the truth. She's not sure she's ready to admit it though.

She plays along, not liking the situation any.]

[mucked]

[ well! a stoic little russian redhead who more than likely came in with the last shuffle. peggy rubs the back of her neck. ]

Where were you assigned?

[ maybe if she tracks down the girl's ship, she can have a word with its respective captain. ]

[outstandingbalance]

Assigned?

[That feels like a trap, but if it is, Natasha doesn't understand it. Maybe she's supposed to let slip a mission or a station... but if she is, she's not sure what it might be.]

I just woke up here.

[mucked]

[ here? now, that's curious. peggy supposes the atroma might have made some sort of administrative error -- but it's more likely that something simpler is afoot. a young girl, lying.

but why? ]

Here? Heavens. How bewildering. The Iskaulit is far from inviting.

[outstandingbalance]

[Natasha shrugs, glancing away. Non verbal agreement that it hasn't been pleasant without actually saying it.]

Where else is there?

omg that html blunder.

[mucked]

Other ships. Smaller ships -- I live on the Starstruck. [ she tests the waters with an offered hand. ] Peggy Carter.

w/e w/e

[outstandingbalance]

[Natasha hesitates, torn between keeping her distance and taking advantage of an offer for closeness. It's tempting to try to steal Peggy's gun, if she can.

Natasha saves the thought; her teachers wouldn't be impressed with breaking her cover story so early.

But the option is on her mind.]

Natalia.

[It's a common enough name. She does take Peggy's hand in the end.]

Dance Studio

[passingthrough]

[Kitty heads into the dance studio dressed for a work out. For as much as she loves dancing she hasn't really done much in the way of practicing ballet like she did in her youth. Her time on the Iskaulit is normally logged exercising, sparring, or running the obstacle course. But with the losses starting to pile up she thought it might be good to work through that with some pliés and pirouettes.

She notices she's not alone before any of that and it makes her consider acting like she just has the wrong room for a second. Considered and rejected.] Hey.

[outstandingbalance]

[Natasha takes in Kitty, seeing a dancer. When she speaks, the girl's brow crinkles, confused by the sound of her voice.

Not what she'd expect, somehow.]

You've come to practice?

[passingthrough]

I was thinking about it. I'm rusty. Never know when this whole thing might escalate into a dance off. [She smiles—kidding.]

[outstandingbalance]

[For some reason, Natasha can't figure out what language they're speaking. That confuses her.

But that confusion is replaced by another.]

What do you mean, a dance off?

action;;

[reconstitution]

[ It's not often that he wanders over to the Iskaulit anymore, but he's been feeling particularly restless on the Heron. There's only so many times he can make rounds on his own ship before the walls feel like they're closing in.

There aren't many people around, so he manages to go mostly unnoticed. The way he happens to come across the little spy is entirely too coincidental. She does look lost, but there's something about her appearance feels familiar though he can't place it immediately. Bucky casts a glance in her direction and knows the feeling she's telegraphing.

Trapped, working a way out of it. At first, he says nothing, merely inclining his head at her. ]

[passingthrough]

Like in West Side Story. I'm just kidding though. Probably. [Kitty could always switch to Russian, but it wouldn't matter much here.]

I'm Kitty. I haven't seen you around. [But there is something familiar.]

[outstandingbalance]

[He's alone. That's one of the first things Natasha notices. She likes that, preferring it to groups. In that way, he's a good mark. In others... he reminds her off men she's known. That's probably not a good sign, but it is familiar. That might be why she edges closer, keeping an eye on him.

The fact he keeps his distance doesn't make him useful, but on some level she prefers it.

When he nods, she drops her gaze.]