MONSTER HUNTER (
perfecting) wrote in
driftfleet2017-03-04 01:11 am
Entry tags:
ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ's ɴᴏ ᴇxᴘʟᴏsɪᴏɴs ʜᴇʀᴇ ( ᴏᴘᴇɴ )
Who: Nancy Wheeler + you!
Broadcast: no
Action: heron, iskaulit
When: all through march.
( A; Heron - Arrival )
[ The new arrival can't be more than seventeen-years old. Carrying a school bag, pins in her hair, wearing a pale pair of jeans and red jacket above her sweater. Nancy looks like a high-school girl on the way to her locker.
She had given those who had seen her arrival a little tight smile before slinking off. She never really had the new-school jitters. In Hawkins, everyone knew everyone since they were children. Nancy knew the kids in her high school since pre-school. She never really had to deal with so many strangers before.
She finds a room and places her bag, takes out her books an pencil-box. It's far from her room but it's still better than the Marsiva.
If you pass by her room, you might notice the door is open. If she sees you, she'll get up and call out, a hesitant and yet certain, 'hey'. ]
( B; Heron - nights )
[ the new security officer doesn't really sleep. She tries, however. Nancy lies in the dark and closes her eyes and manages a little sleep but in the end, it's always the same. She hears a terrible growl, sees a dark, cold world and a faceless monster and wakes up gasping.
You might find her wandering at odd hours, making herself tea in the kitchen, going to sit in the shuttle bay or in the armory, reading one of her study books, writing names of people and worlds and terms in a notebook she names FLEET. ]
( C; iskaulit )
[ when she learns the truth of her destined job, she accepts it without a fuss.
It gives her easy access to what she wanted since her arrival, weapons. She places the broken piece of glass she armed herself with on the Marsiva beneath her pillow and goes to the armory.
Instinct leads her to a handgun and she takes it with her, hidden in her jacket pocket. She knows better than to try and use it inside the ship. She goes through the network, reading files and messages until she finds what she's looking for.
She knows nothing about this world but she had seen enough to let herself think she might not need to use one again. It's harder on her own, harder without Jonathan and their conversations but she pushes nerves aside. This isn't any different than shooting cans and it is certainly easier than shooting -
the thing. the monster.
It's the monster she thinks about when she enters the firing range. No beast that she has ever heard of is one of its kind. If there is one, there is another. if there is another than this time, Nancy Wheeler is going to be prepared for it when it comes.
She looks up at the lights, draws a breath when they remain steady, not a single flicker.
It's just me, she thinks, it doesn't like the light.
She thinks about the monster, she thinks about what it had done to Barb ( there is a scream in her head, dead, dead! ) and pulls the trigger once and then again and again and once more.
The noise doesn't startle her, her hand remains steady. Some people are fine dancers or singers. Nancy Wheeler is a good shot. Sixteen years old in jeans and a sweater, she loads more bullets and tries again. ]
Broadcast: no
Action: heron, iskaulit
When: all through march.
( A; Heron - Arrival )
[ The new arrival can't be more than seventeen-years old. Carrying a school bag, pins in her hair, wearing a pale pair of jeans and red jacket above her sweater. Nancy looks like a high-school girl on the way to her locker.
She had given those who had seen her arrival a little tight smile before slinking off. She never really had the new-school jitters. In Hawkins, everyone knew everyone since they were children. Nancy knew the kids in her high school since pre-school. She never really had to deal with so many strangers before.
She finds a room and places her bag, takes out her books an pencil-box. It's far from her room but it's still better than the Marsiva.
If you pass by her room, you might notice the door is open. If she sees you, she'll get up and call out, a hesitant and yet certain, 'hey'. ]
( B; Heron - nights )
[ the new security officer doesn't really sleep. She tries, however. Nancy lies in the dark and closes her eyes and manages a little sleep but in the end, it's always the same. She hears a terrible growl, sees a dark, cold world and a faceless monster and wakes up gasping.
You might find her wandering at odd hours, making herself tea in the kitchen, going to sit in the shuttle bay or in the armory, reading one of her study books, writing names of people and worlds and terms in a notebook she names FLEET. ]
( C; iskaulit )
[ when she learns the truth of her destined job, she accepts it without a fuss.
It gives her easy access to what she wanted since her arrival, weapons. She places the broken piece of glass she armed herself with on the Marsiva beneath her pillow and goes to the armory.
Instinct leads her to a handgun and she takes it with her, hidden in her jacket pocket. She knows better than to try and use it inside the ship. She goes through the network, reading files and messages until she finds what she's looking for.
She knows nothing about this world but she had seen enough to let herself think she might not need to use one again. It's harder on her own, harder without Jonathan and their conversations but she pushes nerves aside. This isn't any different than shooting cans and it is certainly easier than shooting -
the thing. the monster.
It's the monster she thinks about when she enters the firing range. No beast that she has ever heard of is one of its kind. If there is one, there is another. if there is another than this time, Nancy Wheeler is going to be prepared for it when it comes.
She looks up at the lights, draws a breath when they remain steady, not a single flicker.
It's just me, she thinks, it doesn't like the light.
She thinks about the monster, she thinks about what it had done to Barb ( there is a scream in her head, dead, dead! ) and pulls the trigger once and then again and again and once more.
The noise doesn't startle her, her hand remains steady. Some people are fine dancers or singers. Nancy Wheeler is a good shot. Sixteen years old in jeans and a sweater, she loads more bullets and tries again. ]

no subject
[This is a subject Natasha can speak to with confidence.]
Might seem easier now, but it's holding you back in the long run.
no subject
[ it all makes sense. all she needs to do is to keep her arms steady and her eyes open. she takes another deep breath, steadies her hand, stretches it forward. the following shots aren't entirely out of range as Jonathan's were but they're not her own accurate ones, either. ]
-- It's a start, I guess.
no subject
[She says it with perfect confidence.]
I'm Natasha, by the way.
no subject
[ she thought about giving another name, at first. but nancy isn't keen to start her stay here by pretending to be another girl entirely. it's bad enough that so much of her will have to remain a secret, at the very least she can hold onto her name. ]
It's a pretty name.
[ Russian. While her father may have a lot to say about the so-called commies, Nancy pays little mind to it. Living in Hawkins, Indiana, none of those people has even met someone from Russia before.
It seems like she might be the first. ]
no subject
[Very American, though in 2017 it conjures the image of a much older woman than this. There were a lot of reasons that could be.]
You're new? I haven't seen you around here before. And I'm here a lot.
no subject
[ after doing her fair share of damage to the place. she's almost sorry about it, now. the atroma certainly didn't mind and all she did was provide more work for the odd cleaning robots. ]
How long have you been here?
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[She glances across the shooting range.]
I helped set this up. Strange to think it's been that long.
no subject
[ nancy echoes, lets it sink in. it might be her. in a few months, in a year, she might find herself in a similar position.
it's a sobering thought. ]
It's - it helps.
Small>[ the range. she closes her eyes for a second, scolding herself for how young she must sound. ]
Are you a security officer?
no subject
[She doesn't sound any younger than she is. Which may be exactly what bothers her.]
You?
no subject
[ she rather likes it. if she had to gain any skill, better one she can use to protect herself. ]
no subject
[She flicks a small smile, gone almost immediately as she puts on a more thoughtful face.]
I'm almost surprised he's not here with you.
no subject
[ she shrugs, not without her own smile. ]
Maybe he thought you'd be here.
no subject
[Natasha smiles a little at that, though.]
But since he's laying down on the job... I don't mind giving you a few pointers.
no subject
[ she seems surprised; perhaps by the fact that she isn't protesting her doing this, being young as she is. ]
Okay.
no subject
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[ defensive and just a bit childish. she seems to realize it, however and she deflates, sighs a bit. ]
I mean. Okay. I'm listening.
no subject
Point that at me.
[She says, despite knowing that it's exactly something she shouldn't tell anyone to do, let alone a teenage civilian.]
no subject
[ at once but not without a bit of a smile. ]
That's crazy.
no subject
no subject
[ doubt, there is much of it. ]
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[Said with a wry smile. Nancy proves she's a good girl so thoroughly with this. A good girl who had a normal life, at one point.
Natasha never would have questioned her teachers like that.]
No, I'm going to show you something.
no subject
[ she doesn't like this, not one bit but a part of her is curious - what might this 'something' be? she has pointed a gun at a person before, at steve, but she has never meant to shoot him, not really.
this is no different, she convinces herself and when she raises the gun, her hand doesn't tremble. ]
no subject
That doesn't stop Natasha from stepping in and, in one smooth, practiced motion, disarming her.
Whoops, taking Nancy's gun. At least for the moment.]
So what does that tell you?
no subject
[ that. she sighs, half acceptance and half annoyance. ]
.........That I shouldn't stand around with it if I can't keep it on me. That other people - things - will cheat too.
no subject
That's a good answer. Not the only right answer, but a good one. Doesn't matter how good a shot you are if you can't keep your gun in you hands. And the closer to your target you are, the harder that is.
[Natasha offers the weapon back, safely.]
If someone else can take it away from you, or if they can get to you, better not to pull it in the first place.
[Good first lesson, at least.]
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