Intro: action/video

[tothefly]

Who: Natasha
Broadcast: Fleetwide
Action: Marsiva
When: pre-Shuffle (4/18)


[Audio/Video]
[The beginnings of this broadcast are nothing but a black screen, a soft rustling, the sound of regular breathing. After a few seconds the breathing stops. Dead silence follows, then more rustling as the screen goes from blackness to a brilliant white, then a spinning blur that finally resolves with a clattering noise into the lovely white ceilings of the Marsiva. After another moment of silence, a head of bright red hair creeps into the image as the comm is picked up, eventually revealing the face and shoulders of a woman in her twenties who is clearly Not Amused. While her expression is more or less schooled, there's definitely a sense of things being repressed, emotions hidden, and words carefully chosen.]

If this is your idea of a joke, Stark, there is nowhere you can run that I won't find you.

[The threat is obvious.]



[Action, early:]
The bump on the back of her neck was obvious and irritating. Invasive. It was the first thing she'd noticed, taking stock of her own body, the loss of her weapons which galled her almost as much as letting herself be rendered unconscious. That implant seems to be the source of all the knowledge she's finding herself with as she strides down the halls, some foreign part of her mind supplying helpful names and details as she takes in her surroundings. None if it is immediately useful, so she continues to file it away in her own mind--

Until she hits the viewing bay, and even Natasha looks shocked by the view. Enough so that she barely notices the other bodies in the room as she stares, lips parted and eyes wide.

"Bozhe moi..."


[Action, later:]
They can put her in space, put things in her brain, but they can't make Natasha anything but what she is, and what she is is resourceful. Anyone visiting what passes for a gym and hoping to exercise will instead be greeted by a partially disassembled piece of equipment, and Natasha herself busily invested in the practice of trying to remove a panel from the wall by one of the entertainment console using a piece of metal presumably from said equipment, as her comm beeps at her insistently.

Comments

early action;

[poozers]

[There's something to a human's first reaction to space. To say it was childish would paint it poorly. It was deeper than that. A profound realization that life extended further than the imagination. It was beautiful. It was endearing. It was one of the numerous reasons Kilowog loved humans.

He approaches her slowly, not wanting to disrupt and not wanting to startle. Hums behind her only when he knows it's safe.]

Beautiful, ain't it? Just goes on forever like that.

[tothefly]

Natasha can hear the footsteps behind her, knows she should turn and react, but this is something she's never seen before, in all her life. Those sorts of things are few and far between. All that space, all that blackness...it isn't a video. She's almost certain. But she can't afford to check right now, especially with that voice right behind her, closer than she'd expected. Whirling, Natasha reaches for a gun that isn't there, hand brushing empty holster on her thigh, and there's no response from her bracers when she clicks the activation switch on her wrist. Damn.

Weaponless, she looks up. And up, and up, eyes widening then narrowing as she takes a step backwards, settling into a ready stance. "I wasn't planning on doing any sightseeing today." Her voice is admirably neutral, despite the circumstances.

[poozers]

She reminds him of John, of Vath, of Isamot. Of every trainee that came to him fresh from war. Her movements are sharp, calculated and trained, nearly mechanical in precision. He's impressed, but it's hollow. There's been too many soldiers in his lines.

"Easy, tiger," he says, hands held up. "I don't mean any harm. Just saw ya' lookin'. Kidnapped or not, that sky's still real." He nods to the window. "And it's still just as nice as if we were free. Now, what do I gotta do ta' convince ya' I'm not gonna rip your head off?"

[destinyembrace]

[Hello, Natasha. Have another redhead. She's looking a bit guilty, considering she's about to smack some truth down on her.]

Unfortunately this isn't a prank, unless your friend is associated with Atroma in some way.

[Which would be a lucky break, considering that no one seems to know anything about them so far.]

[tothefly]

[A child, or at least a young woman. Early teens, looks like, and the frown line between Natasha's eyebrows deepens slightly as she listens.]

Stark's always got a thousand projects going. He's got focus issues. I don't remember the names of half of them.

[The picture shifts a little as she looks at the communicator, then back at the screen.]

How long has this thing been broadcasting?

[destinyembrace]

Would one of them be kidnapping people at random and sending them on spaceships to other worlds for a reality show? [Again, sort of hoping that does ring a bell, because maybe they'll finally have some information.]

Not too long. A few minutes at most. They like to turn on when you first wake up on the Marsiva.

[deshabille]

Ooh, I wouldn't want to be Stark when you catch up to him.

[tothefly]

Stark doesn't want to be Stark when that happens.

Who are you?

[deshabille]

Corporal Maladict. And you are . . . threatening redhead number four?

video;

[mysterzie]

Who keeps friends who can manage this shit as a joke?

/o/

[tothefly]

[The face on her screen is absolutely one she recognizes, and she's unsettled enough that there are even small visual cues. Flared nostrils, a slight widening of her eyes and contracting pupils. But he isn't talking like Loki. The intonation is wrong. The words. She still doesn't trust it, forcing her face back into neutral.]

'Friends' might be overstating it. Colleagues. That's a more applicable word. Former associates.

[mysterzie]

That's even worse. Colleagues who'd waste this much on somebody they don't even know that well? What kind of place are you from?

[ If he notices the reaction there aren't any cues in return. Truth be told, Aaron is much more focused on the idea where suddenly being trapped in the middle of space with a widget in your brain might be a prank. Even where everyone has a power of some sort, this would be considered too much. ]

early action

[deptofsass]

Steve had discovered the viewing bat yesterday and had a similar reaction, with a bit less Russian involved. He'd spent most of today standing by the window, staring into space and mentally running through all the new information in his head in an attempt to be some semblance of useful.

When he's joined by another (apparently) new passenger, he turns.

"Sorry, love, I've just ate."

All jokes aside, though, that is one attractive female. Time to turn on the charm. He puts on his best smile and says, "It really is quite the view."

(Note: he's not talking about the stars.)

Re: early action

[tothefly]

There's usually a bit less Russian involved with Natasha, too. She doesn't fall back on her birth tongue often. But she's of the private opinion that's there's really no better language for cursing in (Mandarin may give it a run for its money on creativity, though), and this seems like an apt situation. That's space. It could be a screen, probably is a screen, but that's space like she's never seen it before, dizzyingly empty.

It's almost a relief to look away from, even if the reason is much more mundane than the view. "You here for the view?" Her tone is slightly amused, her face settling into an expression much more fitting than the look of awe she'd been wearing. This one has a slightly arched eyebrow that speaks wonders about what she thinks of that line.

[deptofsass]

Steve could be serious for once and answer, 'No, apparently I'm here to pilot a spaceship.' But if he did that, he wouldn't be Steve. Deciding instantly that he very much wants to get involved with this Russian, he instead answers, "Oh, I'm here for just about anything you have in mind."

Then, in a tone that's very suave and not at all pushy (or so he'd like to think), he extends his hand in introduction. "The name's Wandsworth. Steve Wandsworth." Yes, that's right. He's watched muggle movies before.

[video]

[mysunnydisposition]

[ Steph lifts a hand and waves, fingers waggling at the screen, with a wry smile. ]

Not a joke. Also probably not because of anyone you know. I don't know if that's good news or bad, but... welcome?

[tothefly]

[Friendly, for a stranger. But this one is practically a child, too. Natasha cocks her head slightly, eyeing the screen.]

They were right, that was a public broadcast, wasn't it? Do you always take the time to personally welcome the competition?

[It isn't said with that much derision, and if there's some, it's not particularly meant as an insult.]

video

[grabthecheese]

You know someone capable of this?

[Because she'd like to meet them. And then make them help her figure out what's going on here.]

[tothefly]

I know someone who'd like to pretend he's capable of this. And at least has access to enough holographic technology to fake it for an hour or two to see if I buy it.

You are?

text

[theboogieman]

[...some text starts showing up on the screen!]

if it's a joke, it's a bad one.

[tothefly]

[Text. Text she can do. The same comes back, and pretty quickly.]

He's never had much in the way of taste. Judging from the replies I've been getting, either he's got half the company in on the joke or I'm going to have to find a new theory.

action; later

[peacockherald]

<sub>[ Despite having access to one for three years, a gym was still a novel idea to Vanyel. In Paradisa he had simply been able to go outside to perform his exercise, riding with Yfandes or using the salon he'd built to practice his sword. It had quickly become apparent here that such activities would not be possible, and Vanyel did not lend to sloth.

The equipment might have been confusing to him, but he certainly understood they were not meant to be in quite so many pieces, and that the general activities within a gym usually did not include attempting to tear off the walls. It seemed counter productive.

He coughed politely to announce his presence. ]</sub>

I am not an expert, but I do not think that was the intent of the equipment provided.

[tothefly]

It had taken her long enough to dismantle the thing without any tools. A pull here, a press there, some judicious use of extreme bodily force, and Natasha was left with a pile of parts, most either plastic or metal too clunky to be of any use, plus some assorted odds and ends that might get her somewhere. She's selected a long, thinnish piece of metal to try and thread down a join between panels, with the hopeful intention of prying it off--there's always access panels near screens like this. Repairs would be impossible otherwise.

A cleared throat interrupts her work, and Natasha doesn't bother turning around fully, instead just glancing over her shoulder. "I'm pretty sure it wasn't. Luckily, I'm a resourceful kind of girl. There something I can help you with?"

later action

[openhands]

[Cassandra is passing by the gym (a room which she does not have too much use for given that she doesn't have a weapon to practice with) when Natasha's activities catch her eye. She stops in the doorway and watches the other woman for a moment without saying anything, trying to figure out what it is she's trying to accomplish. But no amount of watching is going to make it any clearer, so Cassandra steps further into the gym.]

Do you know what you're doing?

[tothefly]

Natasha feels eyes on her back, but doesn't stop to look, since whoever it is isn't moving. They can watch if they want, though truthfully she'd rather not have people paying too much attention to her. She feels exposed enough as it is. The question she's asked goes unanswered for a long moment, her breath held as she maneuvers the metal shard a little deeper, and pauses to set it.

"Not in the slightest. Why, you have a better idea?"