driftfleet

Entry tags:

001

Who: Aveline and you
Broadcast: Fleetwide
Action: Marsiva
When: Pre-Shuffle

Ugh, Maker.

[Aveline is... just waking up in the Hospitality Deck. Hello. She blinks several times, disoriented and feeling rather like she had far too much to drink the night before -- and not even good stuff, but more like something questionable and tainted with rat droppings that one might find in the Hanged Man. She sits up, rubbing her temples for a moment, with her eyes squeezed shut. This is all very... strange. And unfamiliar. And yet... she knows it, too. And that doesn't make sense, not remotely. She stares across the room for a moment, trying to put the pieces together. She touches the augment behind her ear, experimentally, and for a long moment is quiet as she looks around the room, scowling like a thundercloud.

Okay. First things first.]

If someone's there, come talk to me face to face.

[It's not a suggestion. It's an order. She pulls herself to her feet, still frowning.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"If it's been tried, I won't waste my time," she says. "I wouldn't mind something I can hit, though."

She looks up at the other woman now that she's in view, looks her over assessingly. "Should I assume you're not an authority come to answer my question?" More's the pity. She has questions. She has questions she would like to ask with her fists.

"Plenty of things you can hit, but nothing that gets you anything but broken equipment, nagging from your comm, and maybe some sore knuckles," she replies pragmatically, returning that same assessing look. She's used to being sized up and found wanting. It doesn't matter, to her. In fact, she's trying to more or less look harmless at the moment.

"Good assumption to make." Natasha pauses a moment, then decides to share, just a little. "I woke up here a few hours ago. I've still got questions of my own." Like maybe... "What's your name?"

Probably harmless. Probably. As much as she can take anything at face value, which she doesn't tend to. Not after the sort of thing she's seen, anyway.

"Aveline." She rubs her face. "Guard-Captain Aveline Vallen, but... I'm a long way from Kirkwall, aren't I? Aveline's fine." The not-so-lofty title probably doesn't do her a lot of good here, but... damn it, she earned that. "And you are?"

She doesn't recognize the placename or the accent, but that doesn't mean they aren't things she should file away for later. Every bit of information she can collect could prove useful further down the line. She's not about to dismiss anything out of hand.

"Unless Kirkwall is a ship, Guard-Captain, chances are you're a ways from home, yeah," she agrees, voice neutral. "My name's Natasha. You're on the Marsiva." Maybe the title doesn't mean anything here, but she's always felt better referring to people by them, when possible. Names imply a potential she'd rather not think about now.

"It's a city," she says, then sighs. It... doesn't matter, maybe, but it matters to her. "Aveline is fine. I'm not your captain."

Aveline rubs her temples. None of this makes much sense to her, implanted knowledge or not, and she's not sure how to adjust just yet -- but then, her new acquaintance is likely in the same boat.

"How long have you been here?"

From the conversations she's had, experiences she's gathered, compounded by her own experiences with people put in new situations to sink or swim, she can figure just how difficult it is for Aveline to take this all in. People whose technology is closer to this level would generally find it easier than those from other societies. She gathers this woman with her Renaissance Faire garb might come from a world where technology maybe hasn't progressed that far beyond siege weaponry.

"Not that long," is her answer, slightly vague. "Long enough to see for myself that some of the information the implant gives you seems accurate. This is a ship, and there are other ships, smaller ones out there. The comm works like they say." She points to the device. "Other than that, you can come to your own conclusions. Me, I don't trust anything I don't see."

"That's wise," Aveline says. "In a situation like this, it's almost a given that we can't trust what we're told directly. I'm not sure what that leaves, but there's time for that."

In this, she can be patient. For a while. Maybe. Okay, she admittedly prefers the direct approach but that doesn't mean she can't be methodical about it. She wouldn't have got very far in her line of work if she couldn't.

"I'm told we can expect to be assigned, soon enough."

Natasha doesn't mind being patient, or the indirect approach. This would just be easier if she had a goal, a target, instead of flying blind. She'll adapt, as she always does, but it's irritating not having all the information to hand.

Good to see that not everyone is absolutely keen on believing all the implant tells them, though. "So I hear. I'd suggest taking what time you can to get used to the technology here. I'd guess it's different from what you're used to. Just try not to get too comfortable. In my experience, anyone not willing to show you their face wants something you wouldn't want to give."

Aveline gives a short laugh. "Don't trust anyone anonymous, then? That's not out of my experience."

Sure, her context is more along the lines of 'mysterious letters without authors' but the rule is the same. A trap is a trap.

"But yes, this is... very different from what I know. So much of this I would dismiss as magic if you described it to me, but I'm no mage." She shakes her head. "Not just magic, but the sort of magic in old tales."

The only magic she's ever known was whatever it was Loki used, whatever powered the Tesseract or made Thor's hammer so impossible for anyone else to lift. Tony had a thousand words to explain it all away. It was just science they didn't know yet. To her, it personally didn't make a difference what you called it.

"Technology is only slightly more reliable than magic, in my experience," she says with a shrug. "And a little less exclusive. Doesn't hurt to learn it. You use the tools you're given."

"That sounds like good advice," she says. "I'll keep it in mind."

At least, it doesn't sound like the sort of advice likely to get her in trouble if Natasha isn't trustworthy. Honestly, at this point, Aveline's not sure if she should be trusting anyone here.

Natasha is rarely trustworthy, and rarely gives advice free of charge. This one, though, no strings attached. Everyone gets one, occasionally. But Aveline would be wise not to go trusting everyone she sees, even the people she thinks she knows. Natasha, at least, is fairly sure it's going to be easier not seeing a familiar face.

"Do what you want with it," she shrugs again, stepping away from her lounging spot, heading for the door. "Just keep your eyes open. And if you need to know anything specific, give me a call. You should know how to reach me, if your implant is anything like the rest."

"Thank you," Aveline says. "I'll keep it in mind. The same is true for you, if I can help."

Well, obviously. She's not going to take advantage of an offer of help. She's rather give help than take it, honestly, because that's the sort of person she is.

"I'll remember that." If it sounds ominous, that's probably because it is. Natasha isn't the sort to forget the offers of help people have made, and in her line of work the circumstances of calling on those offers can sometimes be a little...extraordinary. Then again, if Aveline comes from a world with magic, she's likely used to the extraordinary.

The slight smile she gives the other woman hopefully softens the words a little. "If you want to take a look at the view, there's an observatory down the hall to the right. It can be a little overwhelming, if you aren't used to it." She waves, waiting just a moment longer before heading out the door of the room and back onto her rounds of the deck.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

001

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject