Ava Anatalya Orlova (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
krasnaya_vdova) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
riverviewlogs2018-01-23 01:01 am
krasnaya_vdova) wrote in riverviewlogs2018-01-23 01:01 am
You understand, I got a plan for us [open]
who: Ava Orlova & Company
what: January Catch-all; TDM prompts
when: Late January
where: Around
warnings: Monster fighting?
I. Lunch Dates [Open to anyone! Feel free to handwave having met her / made arrangements]
[It's actually sort of nice, even if it's weird. Knowing people. People that aren't Sana, and yet who seem to actually want to be around her. She finds it strange more often than not.
But while her social calendar is never the most bustling, she does find herself of not-infrequent meetings for coffee and pastries, or a light lunch. Conversation, sometimes she brings her sketchpad, sometimes she lets her company pull her out onto the town. Usually either settling into a bar for a few drinks, or walking the streets window shopping. She knows the streets of the city blind-folded, but the stores she frequents have little to do with fashion.
She's always there early. Usually sipping at an iced coffee in a too-big military jacket, watching the flow of the crowds and the people as she waits.]
II. I Have a Bad Feeling
[Ava knows this is a bad idea from the get-go, but here she is, in one of these robots, doing her absolute best to not short out the controls. She's working the weapons, which is probably the better option, and at first things actually seem to be going smoothly. She actually manages to work together with her partner, even if she's never really what someone would call a team-player.
But the further into the fight they get, the harder it is for her to keep control. Her adrenaline spikes and then something's sparking and she's cursing as half the panel goes dark which does not help her regain her calm.]
Just uh- I can fix it. [Something else sparks, and her eyes glow blue by the dim light as she tries to get the cover off. The metal looks hot to the touch, but she hardly seems to notice. Things are probably going to go downhill from here.] Just give me a minute.
[Good thing they weren't in the middle of stampeding ginormous insects or anything, right?]
III. Put Down the Bug Rebellion
[Really: fuck the robots.
And honestly, this is easier. She's just on the ground, on her feet, with twin blades of bright blue energy. There's a stampede of giant bugs, and she's five five of energy and blue eyes. She's a storm made flesh; red hair, copper and fury. When she stops choking her powers down, it feels like the pulse of the world slows to something she can breathe.
This is where things make sense. The ground under her feet -- or sometimes, the hard carapaces of the insects she's working on pushing back -- and the race of adrenaline in her veins. Her focus is laser, aware of the situation, but zeroed in on the closest threat or putting herself so that the right target is the nearest threat. Pierce already knows, and she's not going to sit on the sidelines. She tried the option that didn't make a spectacle and that was a fucking mess, so here she is instead.
Whatever warnings people might have given her about not heading too far ahead completely forgotten. These things are pretty durable, but her very skin crackles with energy that fluxes in waves.]
Don't get too close--
[An easy call to whoever happens to push near her as they work against the bugs. And there's a darkness to the words, no matter how lightly they carry on the air. She is Not Safe. Do Not Touch. Energy Hazard, Can Cause Injury.]
IV. Pavane for a Dead Princess
[She likes dancing, she's realized. There's a struggle to it for her, mostly with certain songs, with a code written into her memory she never feels like she can entirely escape. She doesn't let that stop her, though. There's a place in town with a studio room she borrows as many days a week as she can manage it. It's a simple space: mirrors and wood floors, dim lights, a piano in the corner, but she just hooks her iPod into the speaker system. Classical music, but generally not ballet pieces.
Her pointe shoes are bright red, but mostly she wears white, with a light grey sweater. She's graceful, elegant, agile and quick on her feet, almost fluid as she moves. She jumps and the short gauze of her skirt flutters and she almost seems to float for a moment too long before she lands. The red of her ponytail like a contrail of her motions.
The door is left ajar, so curious passers-by, might hear the notes of the music that she's dancing to. This isn't scripted, just movement, space and music, what she can choreograph in her head as she moves. Finding a balance somewhere between her body and her thoughts, what she can intuit, what it feels like. Something that you can't hold onto, and only experience.]
V. Wildcard!
[ Leave me whatever, or hit me up at![[plurk.com profile]](https://plurk.com/favicon.ico)
natalia_vdova! ]
what: January Catch-all; TDM prompts
when: Late January
where: Around
warnings: Monster fighting?
I. Lunch Dates [Open to anyone! Feel free to handwave having met her / made arrangements]
[It's actually sort of nice, even if it's weird. Knowing people. People that aren't Sana, and yet who seem to actually want to be around her. She finds it strange more often than not.
But while her social calendar is never the most bustling, she does find herself of not-infrequent meetings for coffee and pastries, or a light lunch. Conversation, sometimes she brings her sketchpad, sometimes she lets her company pull her out onto the town. Usually either settling into a bar for a few drinks, or walking the streets window shopping. She knows the streets of the city blind-folded, but the stores she frequents have little to do with fashion.
She's always there early. Usually sipping at an iced coffee in a too-big military jacket, watching the flow of the crowds and the people as she waits.]
II. I Have a Bad Feeling
[Ava knows this is a bad idea from the get-go, but here she is, in one of these robots, doing her absolute best to not short out the controls. She's working the weapons, which is probably the better option, and at first things actually seem to be going smoothly. She actually manages to work together with her partner, even if she's never really what someone would call a team-player.
But the further into the fight they get, the harder it is for her to keep control. Her adrenaline spikes and then something's sparking and she's cursing as half the panel goes dark which does not help her regain her calm.]
Just uh- I can fix it. [Something else sparks, and her eyes glow blue by the dim light as she tries to get the cover off. The metal looks hot to the touch, but she hardly seems to notice. Things are probably going to go downhill from here.] Just give me a minute.
[Good thing they weren't in the middle of stampeding ginormous insects or anything, right?]
III. Put Down the Bug Rebellion
[Really: fuck the robots.
And honestly, this is easier. She's just on the ground, on her feet, with twin blades of bright blue energy. There's a stampede of giant bugs, and she's five five of energy and blue eyes. She's a storm made flesh; red hair, copper and fury. When she stops choking her powers down, it feels like the pulse of the world slows to something she can breathe.
This is where things make sense. The ground under her feet -- or sometimes, the hard carapaces of the insects she's working on pushing back -- and the race of adrenaline in her veins. Her focus is laser, aware of the situation, but zeroed in on the closest threat or putting herself so that the right target is the nearest threat. Pierce already knows, and she's not going to sit on the sidelines. She tried the option that didn't make a spectacle and that was a fucking mess, so here she is instead.
Whatever warnings people might have given her about not heading too far ahead completely forgotten. These things are pretty durable, but her very skin crackles with energy that fluxes in waves.]
Don't get too close--
[An easy call to whoever happens to push near her as they work against the bugs. And there's a darkness to the words, no matter how lightly they carry on the air. She is Not Safe. Do Not Touch. Energy Hazard, Can Cause Injury.]
IV. Pavane for a Dead Princess
[She likes dancing, she's realized. There's a struggle to it for her, mostly with certain songs, with a code written into her memory she never feels like she can entirely escape. She doesn't let that stop her, though. There's a place in town with a studio room she borrows as many days a week as she can manage it. It's a simple space: mirrors and wood floors, dim lights, a piano in the corner, but she just hooks her iPod into the speaker system. Classical music, but generally not ballet pieces.
Her pointe shoes are bright red, but mostly she wears white, with a light grey sweater. She's graceful, elegant, agile and quick on her feet, almost fluid as she moves. She jumps and the short gauze of her skirt flutters and she almost seems to float for a moment too long before she lands. The red of her ponytail like a contrail of her motions.
The door is left ajar, so curious passers-by, might hear the notes of the music that she's dancing to. This isn't scripted, just movement, space and music, what she can choreograph in her head as she moves. Finding a balance somewhere between her body and her thoughts, what she can intuit, what it feels like. Something that you can't hold onto, and only experience.]
V. Wildcard!
[ Leave me whatever, or hit me up at
ii + iii + aftermath
Especially considering who his partner is. A pretty redhead who he's pretty sure he hung out with at some point during the Glow Ball, who seems to be totally awesome and big into the fighting thing. Frankly, this is probably a way better way to get to know her than a fancy dance.
After figuring out she wanted to run the guns, Marco's settled into the cockpit, keeping an eye on where they're going, honestly pretty glad he's learned to properly drive since he was in his last giant war machine.]
Don't worry, it's a piece of cake, Ava! We're gonna blast these bugs.
[His voice is light and airy, and he's obviously really into this, relaxed and confident and at his best.]
And man, if I can drive a Maserati, I can drive this thing.
[Right as he finishes saying that, the whole mech tilts wildly, dangerously close to toppling over sideways as Marco frantically jerks at the controls. When it rights itself, he lets out a sharp, relieved little laugh.]
Doesn't really corner as well as a Maserati...
dear gosh I'm sorry this is so late sob
The problem was just that it wasn't exactly a great match for her powers. She's trying to not let on, but she can feel the electrical hum of it under her fingertips. And at first that was a comfort, but as things continue and her adrenaline spikes, not zapping the controls is becoming an increasing challenge. Marco-- he seems nice, though. She remembers him vaguely from the ball, but the truth was that she was far more at home here than she was surrounded by too many people in outfits that were far too expensive for her to think about.]
You're driven a Maserati before?
[He's either filthy rich or had a very interesting life, Ava muses. But then the robot nearly falls over and just like that Ava loses control for a flicker amidst grabbing for something to hold onto, and the control panel in front of her is definitely on fire. She's cursing under her breath.]
--We might have a bit of a problem.
no subject
Ava seems to be struggling a little, though, and Marco can tell because of the slightly uneven way the weapons are firing and some really interesting little energy spikes in the weapons and shields systems. He's not sure what's causing it, but he definitely notices, takes note, even while he's sharing banter with his beautiful co-pilot.]
I own a Maserati, at least I used to. In Riverview, I might be your friendly neighbourhood talent agent and occasional spaceship pilot, but back home I was kind of a big deal.
[A little laugh, and then the mech is swaying and dipping to one side, enough that he lets out a yelp of surprise and fear, sharp and high-pitched, of which he seems not even slightly ashamed. Then there's the acrid scent of electrical smoke, and he twists around in his seat to look behind him.]
Holy crap, you're not kidding! Man these things really are glitchy! Total waste of taxpayer money!
no subject
[Her tone is surprisingly light given their current situation. But Marco doesn't seem much older than she looks, so that's a pretty impressive claim. But, right- the fire. The fire inside the robot they're currently piloting.
The problem is that Ava has a lot less control over fire than she does electricity, or even plasma. Her running theory is that in fire not enough of it is ionized for her to control it in the way she can, say, electromagnetic forces. But the main point here is that there's an electrical fire and she has no particular easy way to actually stop it.]
Yeah, definitely glitchy. And I don't even see a fire extinguisher. I think they definitely skimped on some basic safety measures, here.
[She is still making a valiant attempt to at least herd back the bug they were in immediate contact with, despite the flames, but that seems like an endeavor that won't last too
much longer.] You have any bright ideas? Personally I think just punching these bugs in the face might be better than trying to shoot them while on fire, but I'm open to suggestions.