Natasha Romanoff (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
tothefly) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
driftfleet2015-04-15 01:52 pm
tothefly) wrote in driftfleet2015-04-15 01:52 pm
Entry tags:
Intro: action/video
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.
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.
no subject
Who are you?
no subject
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Name's Natasha. Corporal. The rank predate the fleet, or come with it?
no subject
Predates. I got it from a man almost as scary as you are.
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Confident's one word for it. I'm just a little irritated. I wasn't planning on a vacation anytime soon. So, Corporal, you here to give me the Space 101 talk, too?
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I could tell you about engines, or you could tell me about Threatening Redhead Number One if you're tired of other people talking at you.
no subject
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You could just come by and see it, once you get on your own ship.
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I'll make sure I keep my schedule open for you. They make it pretty easy, then, traveling between ships?
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It's not so hard. I figured out how to do it, and where I come from we don't have electric lights. Or plumbing. So.
no subject
In my experience, people from places like that tend to be more creative than ones who grow up with technology handed to them. Although not to dismiss your skills, but I'm assuming our little extras have something to do with you knowing engines, too?
no subject
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What ship are you on?
no subject
no subject
no subject
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Be seeing you around, I'm sure, Corporal. Let me know when you've got time for a lesson or two.