vivala | 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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

lightnovelexperiences

“Of course. Let me get you a cup of tea - get to my desk so I can sign for this -“

Deedee gestures the girl in, standing to shield sight of her from any strangers.

theriflespiral

"Thank you ma'am, it's bitter today. I think I spot it from here," she said, once she'd slipped in, and set the box down carefully.

She was sure there was both more to the package and the message-- This was, after all, intelligence and counter-intelligence, and physical objects are -- but she didn't have to know. All she had to know was 'wait inside and await instruction'.

Well. More accurately, 'wait inside and look relaxed', but the 'relax' part was... a little bit difficult for Natalia. Instead, she picked a bit of wall and shelving that didn't look like it was in anyone's way, leaned against it, and hid her hands under her arms to get the stiffness out of them.

The scents clashed with each other back here, but not unpleasantly so.

Deedee hands Natalia a ceramic cup of hot, strong green tea.

“Sit tight for a minute, let me know if it needs honey. This should also warm your hands.

Deedee opens the box, which has a written note and otherwise… seems to be full of salves, creams and powders.

She takes careful inventory of it with a pencil and paper, frowning without scowling, before nodding and writing her own list.

“Okay. I thought as much, but… okay. How’s the tea?”

The tea is plenty warm, and she lets it fill her nose for a moment. It brought back memories. Not all of them were pleasant, but they were memories. Just that. A deep breath, and the present returns.

She sipped at the tea. It was, perhaps, slightly stronger than she was used to from green tea, but hardly bad. "No need for the honey. It is quite drinkable, all on its own. It's... Nostalgic, actually."

“One day I might ask for what,” she says. “Alright. I’ve got a list here of things the apothecary requested; Can you read the local language? Help me find some of them?”

Deedee holds the paper by thumb and finger, on a hand over her heart.

"I know it's a form of Old English, with some drift. I got a lot of it from manuals," stolen, "Ledgers, manifests," plundered, "maps, and street signs. Everything else I piece together from context, German, Polish, and Norwegian.

"I'm... Not overly confident in my translation, but I'll make the attempt if asked."

“Hmn.”

She considers this. Old English, huh?

“I was more asking if I should translate while you look, but it’s good to know. Took me a month to get my vocabulary up to speed,” she says.

“First thing is a bottle of violet essential oil…”

Natalia pauses, tilts her head in conusion. "The... color...? or the-- The flower, what am I saying?"

And so she sets to work. She's calm, cool, efficient; she seems to pick up Deedee's method of organizing the back room fairly quickly. When she moves the glasses, they barely rattle, like she's used to searching for things silently.

And here's a funny thing: the things that she's picking up are arbitrary... in the imperial language.

But in English, in the order that Deedee is asking for them, they spell V - I - N - D - E - S - S.

Natalia pauses, blinks, clearly has recognized the signal, and after a split second of hesitation, picks it up anyway, placing it in its proper order.

If she understands the significance, she says nothing about it, save, "I take it this is to be an expedited delivery?"

"Please," she says. "And thank you, this was quick work with your help. Feel free to drop by up to two hours after we close if you want any treatment or to use the baths yourself - perk of working for me."

For the Corsairs?

"It was good to have a moment in from the cold, and I will keep your offer in mind in the future." She takes a moment to secure the bottles, and then latches the package. "Thank you for keeping our company in mind."

She decided to visit later, regardless of her injuries, if only to be able to talk openly. "We shall send you the bill later, after delivery is confirmed."

Viva La DWRP

A Troubled Soldier 01

A Troubled Soldier 01

Re: I

Re: I

Re: I

Re: I

Re: I

Re: I

Re: I

Re: I

Re: I

Re: I

Re: I

Re: I

Style Credit