Natalia Koutolika (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
theriflespiral) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
vivala2024-12-13 09:50 am
theriflespiral) wrote in vivala2024-12-13 09:50 am
Entry tags:
A Troubled Soldier 01
I: Delivery to Elysium
Elysium-the-city was far larger than Natalia had first assumed. Not that this was a problem for her-- a day or two among the rooftops, and she would know this place as well as anyone who lived here.
For now, though, she was momentarily relying on a map she kept carefully tucked away, and an address on a box with a memorized order form (and countersign, and counter-countersign, easily handwaved).
Being a delivery girl was hardly a novel cover, but it was precisely because such things were ubiquitous that it was easy to slip into the role as she came around the service entrance. Add perhaps a touch of bitter expression at the cold-- she didn't even have to try for that one-- and things would, hopefully, work just fine.
II: Blames Her Tools (Vault)
Natalia, after spending the better part of a day hitting targets from as extreme a range as the Vault could afford, was now overhauling her rifle, first cleaning the inside of the barrel with a cloth and a cleaning rod, and then disassembling it, screw by painstaking screw.
The casings were drying on a separate cloth nearby, with the scent of soap and water, waiting for an oven to finish getting up to the proper temperature.
It took up an entire gunsmith's bench, between the disassembly and the casings waiting for annealing and rolling and fitting and loading, but there was something to it. A peace, in an artisan's craft.
She looked at the tool rack above her and clicked her tongue.
She would have to go hunting for that particular tool.
Okay. Smooth hair. Stand properly. Act like you're supposed to be here.
Time to go among the other workbenches. Or workshops, if she had to.
III: Wildcard
Bug Natalia because she looks suspicious or because you need something.
Elysium-the-city was far larger than Natalia had first assumed. Not that this was a problem for her-- a day or two among the rooftops, and she would know this place as well as anyone who lived here.
For now, though, she was momentarily relying on a map she kept carefully tucked away, and an address on a box with a memorized order form (and countersign, and counter-countersign, easily handwaved).
Being a delivery girl was hardly a novel cover, but it was precisely because such things were ubiquitous that it was easy to slip into the role as she came around the service entrance. Add perhaps a touch of bitter expression at the cold-- she didn't even have to try for that one-- and things would, hopefully, work just fine.
II: Blames Her Tools (Vault)
Natalia, after spending the better part of a day hitting targets from as extreme a range as the Vault could afford, was now overhauling her rifle, first cleaning the inside of the barrel with a cloth and a cleaning rod, and then disassembling it, screw by painstaking screw.
The casings were drying on a separate cloth nearby, with the scent of soap and water, waiting for an oven to finish getting up to the proper temperature.
It took up an entire gunsmith's bench, between the disassembly and the casings waiting for annealing and rolling and fitting and loading, but there was something to it. A peace, in an artisan's craft.
She looked at the tool rack above her and clicked her tongue.
She would have to go hunting for that particular tool.
Okay. Smooth hair. Stand properly. Act like you're supposed to be here.
Time to go among the other workbenches. Or workshops, if she had to.
III: Wildcard
Bug Natalia because she looks suspicious or because you need something.
no subject