A Troubled Soldier 01

[theriflespiral]

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.

Comments

[theriflespiral]

Natalia paused. "A few. Some to make rations back home more palatable." And BOY did they NEED it, not that she was about to say that to Link.

"And some my mother taught me, and some my handlers taught me. Onion and noodle soups, blini and various things for blini, three different flavors of borscht, piroshki, Stroganoff, vitrushka, and various kinds of stuffed cabbage. eh..."

She pauses. "That... Is a lot of course but I'd be surprised if you didn't have some bit of blin in your repertoire as it is..."

[newmemorywhodis]

She'd just rattled off a whole series of recipes, but the only names that were of any familiarity to him at all were the soups and the stuffed cabbage. The rest just gets a blank, uncomprehending stare.

Is he...meant to know those? It seemed like she was expecting him to know those. Maybe it was a translation issue? No one else spoke Link's native Hylian after all. The Imperial they conversed in was a second language to him.

"...Blin?" He says, deciding to start with that one. Maybe if she describes it, he can connect it to a familiar dish...?

[theriflespiral]

"-- Is flat cake, flour, egg, buttermilk, always some salt and some sugar. You have it, I'm sure. I tend towards making them salty, because I often had them with smoked fish, but sweet is okay too." She bounces her head. "Is same with vitruvshka. Make dough, make small pads, stuff with some filling, fry in just enough fat to float them. Even the Empire has some version of these."

[newmemorywhodis]

"Like...crepes?" Link says, naming the closest dish he knew to what she described. But he's still frowning faintly, because it doesn't seem quite right...

Link knew plenty of recipes. But he didn't know all of them.

[theriflespiral]

"Mn-- yes, but make the batter a little thicker. Less liquid. Or more flour, I'm not your grandmother."

[newmemorywhodis]

Link makes a soft noise in the back of his throat - and then pulls out his communicator and starts typing out a few things in the notes app. More flour. Less liquid.

Sure, it's not a complete recipe. But Link clearly still plans to experiment with it anyway.

[theriflespiral]

"Otherwise, a lot like a crepe-- bake in a pan with a good oil-- butter will burn, try lard or something-- flip when the edges bubble, add something nice in the middle, fold it up once the bottom's solid, wait juuust a little, flip to get the heat even, is done."

[newmemorywhodis]

More notes, dotted down diligently.

"Thank you," he says. Then shifts his feet, just slightly.

Link can - and does - stay still in one place for long periods of time. It's a bit of a necessary still, as a Royal Knight. But that doesn't mean he wants to, and at this point he's itching to get up and move again.

So he reaches back, to lightly tough the bow on his back. Gives her a questioning look. Does she want to shoot more things now?

[[ooc: shall we wrap up about here? Have them go back to more shooting training together, etc]]

[theriflespiral]

[[ooc: Sounds good.]]

She nods, reloading, and steps back to let Link take his turn...