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
[he's not exactly hard to look up--and everyone keeps shooting down his trying to be more mysterious. but if she wants to figure him out, she'll have to do it on her own time.]
no subject
Equally mysterious name. What do you do here, Zhas?
no subject
no subject
no subject
[with their... talking... and their friendship...]
no subject
no subject
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That, or start clawing up the walls.
no subject
no subject
[She doesn't know him at all, but some things are just impossible to resist.]
1/3
2/3
punching things
3/3
neither of those sound good.
no subject
[Does sarcasm carry via text? How about gentle poking of fun?]
Seems like knitting needles would be a little too sharp and stabby for this show, though. I heard mention of security. Show-provided weapons?
no subject
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Are sidearms locked to security personnel or do they let just anyone pick up a gun and start waving it around?
[She figures she'd be seeing fewer contestants, if that was the case, but still. Better safe than sorry.]