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)
riverviewlogs2017-07-20 10:54 pm
krasnaya_vdova) wrote in riverviewlogs2017-07-20 10:54 pm
Fighting with the pace [Open]
who: Ava Orlova and YOU
what: Just a girl trying to settle in. Pick a prompt! Or request one and I'll give you something.
when: End of July
where: Around town, out in the acid rain, etc
warnings: Some violence of the sparring/monster fighting variety. Vague mentions of dead people and shitty things done to little girls.
i. i am flesh & i am bone
[Ava's always enjoyed physical exertion, whether it was the fencing classes that Sana had initially dragged her to back at the YMCA in Brooklyn, or the fact that she was always one of the first and last in the gym at the SHIELD Academy. So it's not really much of a surprise that she spends a not-insignificant amount of time pushing herself. She doesn't have an official job-- not yet at least-- and so it's a pretty decent way to spend her time for the moment. Not to mention that it helps with the control, with keeping her powers in check when she has that focus so it's good from every facet. Sometimes it's at one of the gyms, other times it's a quiet place out beyond the fence, driving her motorcycle until she finds someplace with enough space, or sometimes good target practice.
She's five foot nothing, slender enough that most people could probably lift her one-handed, and yet any doubt about her strength is side-lined with how she hits the punching bag, how fast and agile, how she throws her body through the air, or watching how she climbs-- just her arm strength, hitting the top and then kicking off, landing light on her toes and then settling onto her feet. She makes it look effortless. She'll work with weapons when she has enough space for it. Various sized blades being her favorites. Armed or unarmed, if you watch her too long, or if she recognizes you, she'll probably ask if you want to go a round or two, a smile and a lift of her eyebrow, bright red hair that falls around her face.
Sometimes, when she's alone, early morning, before the sun, sometimes she dances. A silhouette of something that looks almost like ballet in nothing but the grey light. She moves like a shadow, like a dying swan, even without silk shoes.]
ii. draw you like one of my french girls
[She always has her sketchpad with her, pencils and sometimes some black charcoals. Sometimes she'll trade a drawing for an ice cream or something else small, trinkets and conversation where she smiles and nods and gets more than she gives about herself. She misses Brooklyn, misses the city and sketching buildings and attractive women with coffee in hand too busy to see the people beneath them. But she doesn't really miss home -- not in the idea of someplace on the other side of the portal, where she didn't really belong. Just a girl on the run, running without really knowing what's after her, but knowing that something is. Maybe always would be.
This is something she's good at. Something that's hers and doesn't come from that link to Natasha. Which in Ava's life are things that come few and far between. So much of her is not her at all. She has more memories of Natasha's life, more of her feelings that always seem so much bigger than her own. She likes drawing, likes catching people, the lines of their face, an expression, the way the light falls soft just before sunset. And sometimes it's just nice to catch a familiar face, and have that moment to look back on later.
Some people she actually goes up to with a smile, asking if they mind, if they'll sit under the light from that tree and wait just a few minutes... but usually she prefers the covert approach. Something less conscious about it that she likes. But, sometimes, when she's covertly drawing people they don't always wait for her to finish. So move too quickly and you might have a slightly awkward redhead calling out to you as she looks up from her sketchpad with a slightly awkward smile curving her lips as she gestures --]
Do you mind waiting just a second? I'm almost finished. It'll just be a minute longer, I promise.
iii. fight song
[It almost goes without saying that she volunteers when there are people going out to try and put an end to the acid rain that's been plaguing the city. She's not on the perimeter guard or anything like that, but well. She has a certain skillset and if she can help stop this? She's going to. It was what she'd always wanted, when she was a kid sitting in a SHIELD safehouse that no one seemed to know existed. The Red Widow. Like Natasha, except better. There for people. Not a disappointment the way that the Black Widow had disappointed her. She'd rescue people, save people that needed it. And the truth is that she hasn't really felt like she'd gotten to do much- if any- saving. Not with the body count she's seen over the past year.
She has her outfit from SHIELD under the garish yellow hazmat suit, not that the white bodysuit with the double-hourglass is particularly visible. She's managed to arrange her belt on the outside of her gear so that she can get to her blades or her gun when trouble starts. It goes pretty much without saying that it's going to. She thinks she could maybe use her powers to find someway to create some kind of barrier, but given the likely interactions with electricity and water and how her control is fuzzy on good days, she's opting not to risk it for the moment.
After the first encounter, she's slipping around the rest of the team, checking both for injuries and possible tears in suits that could lead to things being worse the next time around. She fared pretty well herself, though her eyes are glowing bright blue with her swords tucked back into her belt, the energy still lingering.]
You alright?
iv. i'm caught up in a dream
[The nightmares haven't stopped just because she's in space however many of thousands miles and worlds away from home due to some kind of magic portal. It just makes her more self-conscious, more worried about them. She knows how badly it could go, she just doesn't know what to do about it. There doesn't quite seem to be a choice alternative to the cement room she'd had in the Academy. Little that was flammable aside from her cot. So far it hasn't been that bad, she usually startles awake before its anything more than singed bedsheets, but it's still a threat. That looming cloud of knowing that she's dangerous.
So she's something of a not-uncommon face on nights like that, somewhere between midnight and dawn, she usually ends up leaning against a counter in the kitchen holding a cup of coffee that she isn't drinking. It's never her floor-- she just needs somewhere to linger, catch her breath, someplace that feels a little less toxic, less like she might accidentally pull down the walls. It's very faint, but there's a vague scent of fire and lightning strikes around her, but she certainly doesn't bring it up. A little out of place, but she doesn't seem to mind. Maybe she's waiting for someone, maybe she's just enjoying the scent of the cup of stolen coffee she holds in between her hands.
The extra-perceptive might catch onto the tension in her shoulders, the way her body's spring-wound, coiled as she tries to focus on even breaths. Sometimes the nightmares are her own, and sometimes they're not. It's the part of having Natasha's memories and so much more in her head that she doesn't often talk about. As if her own aren't bad enough. Alexei, dead as she finally told him she loved him. The chaos of when Hydra had turned on the Academy. Dead bodies, people she'd known. Sometimes they're of being handcuffed under an old sink so the rest of the red room girls can hear when she screams.]
You up late or early?
[A casual question as someone steps into the kitchen, casually interested, though her smile is a little too sharp to be genuine.]
v. wildfire
[Wildcard me! Anything goes, pretty much. PM me or hit me up at![[plurk.com profile]](https://plurk.com/favicon.ico)
natalia_vdova and I will write you a starter prompt if anyone wants specific stuff.]
what: Just a girl trying to settle in. Pick a prompt! Or request one and I'll give you something.
when: End of July
where: Around town, out in the acid rain, etc
warnings: Some violence of the sparring/monster fighting variety. Vague mentions of dead people and shitty things done to little girls.
i. i am flesh & i am bone
[Ava's always enjoyed physical exertion, whether it was the fencing classes that Sana had initially dragged her to back at the YMCA in Brooklyn, or the fact that she was always one of the first and last in the gym at the SHIELD Academy. So it's not really much of a surprise that she spends a not-insignificant amount of time pushing herself. She doesn't have an official job-- not yet at least-- and so it's a pretty decent way to spend her time for the moment. Not to mention that it helps with the control, with keeping her powers in check when she has that focus so it's good from every facet. Sometimes it's at one of the gyms, other times it's a quiet place out beyond the fence, driving her motorcycle until she finds someplace with enough space, or sometimes good target practice.
She's five foot nothing, slender enough that most people could probably lift her one-handed, and yet any doubt about her strength is side-lined with how she hits the punching bag, how fast and agile, how she throws her body through the air, or watching how she climbs-- just her arm strength, hitting the top and then kicking off, landing light on her toes and then settling onto her feet. She makes it look effortless. She'll work with weapons when she has enough space for it. Various sized blades being her favorites. Armed or unarmed, if you watch her too long, or if she recognizes you, she'll probably ask if you want to go a round or two, a smile and a lift of her eyebrow, bright red hair that falls around her face.
Sometimes, when she's alone, early morning, before the sun, sometimes she dances. A silhouette of something that looks almost like ballet in nothing but the grey light. She moves like a shadow, like a dying swan, even without silk shoes.]
ii. draw you like one of my french girls
[She always has her sketchpad with her, pencils and sometimes some black charcoals. Sometimes she'll trade a drawing for an ice cream or something else small, trinkets and conversation where she smiles and nods and gets more than she gives about herself. She misses Brooklyn, misses the city and sketching buildings and attractive women with coffee in hand too busy to see the people beneath them. But she doesn't really miss home -- not in the idea of someplace on the other side of the portal, where she didn't really belong. Just a girl on the run, running without really knowing what's after her, but knowing that something is. Maybe always would be.
This is something she's good at. Something that's hers and doesn't come from that link to Natasha. Which in Ava's life are things that come few and far between. So much of her is not her at all. She has more memories of Natasha's life, more of her feelings that always seem so much bigger than her own. She likes drawing, likes catching people, the lines of their face, an expression, the way the light falls soft just before sunset. And sometimes it's just nice to catch a familiar face, and have that moment to look back on later.
Some people she actually goes up to with a smile, asking if they mind, if they'll sit under the light from that tree and wait just a few minutes... but usually she prefers the covert approach. Something less conscious about it that she likes. But, sometimes, when she's covertly drawing people they don't always wait for her to finish. So move too quickly and you might have a slightly awkward redhead calling out to you as she looks up from her sketchpad with a slightly awkward smile curving her lips as she gestures --]
Do you mind waiting just a second? I'm almost finished. It'll just be a minute longer, I promise.
iii. fight song
[It almost goes without saying that she volunteers when there are people going out to try and put an end to the acid rain that's been plaguing the city. She's not on the perimeter guard or anything like that, but well. She has a certain skillset and if she can help stop this? She's going to. It was what she'd always wanted, when she was a kid sitting in a SHIELD safehouse that no one seemed to know existed. The Red Widow. Like Natasha, except better. There for people. Not a disappointment the way that the Black Widow had disappointed her. She'd rescue people, save people that needed it. And the truth is that she hasn't really felt like she'd gotten to do much- if any- saving. Not with the body count she's seen over the past year.
She has her outfit from SHIELD under the garish yellow hazmat suit, not that the white bodysuit with the double-hourglass is particularly visible. She's managed to arrange her belt on the outside of her gear so that she can get to her blades or her gun when trouble starts. It goes pretty much without saying that it's going to. She thinks she could maybe use her powers to find someway to create some kind of barrier, but given the likely interactions with electricity and water and how her control is fuzzy on good days, she's opting not to risk it for the moment.
After the first encounter, she's slipping around the rest of the team, checking both for injuries and possible tears in suits that could lead to things being worse the next time around. She fared pretty well herself, though her eyes are glowing bright blue with her swords tucked back into her belt, the energy still lingering.]
You alright?
iv. i'm caught up in a dream
[The nightmares haven't stopped just because she's in space however many of thousands miles and worlds away from home due to some kind of magic portal. It just makes her more self-conscious, more worried about them. She knows how badly it could go, she just doesn't know what to do about it. There doesn't quite seem to be a choice alternative to the cement room she'd had in the Academy. Little that was flammable aside from her cot. So far it hasn't been that bad, she usually startles awake before its anything more than singed bedsheets, but it's still a threat. That looming cloud of knowing that she's dangerous.
So she's something of a not-uncommon face on nights like that, somewhere between midnight and dawn, she usually ends up leaning against a counter in the kitchen holding a cup of coffee that she isn't drinking. It's never her floor-- she just needs somewhere to linger, catch her breath, someplace that feels a little less toxic, less like she might accidentally pull down the walls. It's very faint, but there's a vague scent of fire and lightning strikes around her, but she certainly doesn't bring it up. A little out of place, but she doesn't seem to mind. Maybe she's waiting for someone, maybe she's just enjoying the scent of the cup of stolen coffee she holds in between her hands.
The extra-perceptive might catch onto the tension in her shoulders, the way her body's spring-wound, coiled as she tries to focus on even breaths. Sometimes the nightmares are her own, and sometimes they're not. It's the part of having Natasha's memories and so much more in her head that she doesn't often talk about. As if her own aren't bad enough. Alexei, dead as she finally told him she loved him. The chaos of when Hydra had turned on the Academy. Dead bodies, people she'd known. Sometimes they're of being handcuffed under an old sink so the rest of the red room girls can hear when she screams.]
You up late or early?
[A casual question as someone steps into the kitchen, casually interested, though her smile is a little too sharp to be genuine.]
v. wildfire
[Wildcard me! Anything goes, pretty much. PM me or hit me up at
i
It's a slight surprise to him when he steps into the gym proper, and finds the building isn't empty.
Silhouetted by the earliest peeks of sunlight filtering in through the high windows, she's dancing, and it's haunting, in a way. A blend of memories and not-memories alike at the surface that are too difficult to process. The reminder is a bit unpleasant, but he knows enough of her story that it isn't surprising. It must be hard to deal with, being so closely linked to another person. He can understand, to an extent.
He drops his gym bag with a purposeful clatter of the items inside, crouching down to dig out his water bottle, and pretends he didn't see her dancing for now.]
no subject
She walks over casually, because she's not the sort of person to pretend that they're not both here, alone in the gym before the sun comes up. And talking with him so far has been good, she supposes, even if this time there aren't any pancakes.]
I guess I'm not the only one that prefers the pre-dawn crowd.
[Or lack of crowd, more appropriately; she even smiles a little as she says it. She prefers the solitude, the ability to just lose herself without getting any looks. The fact that she's transparently stronger than she looks, faster, more agile, ruthlessness paired to fluid grace. Part of her wants to go a round or two with him, pair something real and tangible to things that aren't hers.
She's just not entirely sure if that would be too strange. Or, well. Stranger than things already are.]
two
What he doesn't catch is that he's also being watched, not until he shifts around in place enough for a girl to speak up, sketchpad in hand. Yuuto puts on a mildly surprised expression, but he isn't offended that someone's been trying to capture him on paper. ]
—Oh, sorry. [ He isn't sure if he puts himself back in the exact same position he was in before, but he tries. ] ... Like this?
no subject
He gives her a slight smile.] It's the whole reason I like this gym. Peak time is in the evenings. [And he thinks along the same lines. It's easier to practice while it's quiet and empty, away from prying eyes who might wonder why he's so strong, so fast, so flexible.]
Means the mats are empty. [His eyes flick over to the open space meant for sparring.]
no subject
She returns the smile, a tilt of her head as she nods.] Never come here before, but it looked quiet. [An easy agreement of similar desires. But then he mentions the mats, and she lifts an eyebrow, that smile brightening a little, warmer.]
Well, if you feel up to going a round or two... be interesting to see if you fight like I remember.
[Figures the worst that happens is he says no, and they both go back to doing their exercises, working around each other. She can be shy, but she's not nearly skittish enough to run, no matter how strange it might be. The knowing and not-knowing. It's certainly a strange sentence to say. But it's playful more than anything.]
I
*People Lola's size and build were, well, usually twelve years old. This girl was not that, and she was able to do a lot of things that Lola only thought were doable in those action movies Hunter and Yael liked. So of course she watched a cute redhead to cool ninja punchy things in the gym. Who wouldn't. She's not going to approach because she's not a moron, and not interrupt because... Ava is honestly terrifying. So she'll just watch awkwardly from the sides taking up a weight machine she's not using. Lola's white hair turning blue for a few moments only to revert to white under the effects of the acid chemicals having messed with her new... ability.*
iii
Not too bad. I guess the weather decided things were getting too easy for us.
no subject
Probably just wanted to keep us on our toes. At least it isn't boring.
[She pushes the helmet part back with a relieved breath of air-- with the rain pouring down it's too humid, too stuffy, makes it feel like she can't breathe. Not exactly ideal under the best of circumstances.]
How bad's the burn?
[There's probably something she can use for it. And between Natasha and her SHIELD classes, she's pretty good with improvising first aid in the field. Top of her class might just be good for something after all.]
no subject
Yeah, that's fine.
[She doesn't look up from her sketchpad as she draws for a few moments, then looks back to him, a tilt of her head with a slightly shy smile. She is not entirely used to drawing people when they're actually aware of her, but she finds that she doesn't entirely mind. True to her words, it only takes her a minute or two.]
There, done. Thanks.
[She waves at him as she closes her sketchpad.]
no subject
[ He shoots back with a small, soft smile of his own to let her know the statement is purely in jest. ]
... Would I be intruding if I asked to see?
no subject
[ He smiles in return. Even with the concern for the people in the city, Steve can't help but feel the humor of that comment. He gets a little thrill at helping and being able to be part of the action without doubting. This kind of work is stuff he can feel at home with. He gives the girl a curious look when he pushes the helmet back, quietly assessing her, but doesn't comment. Instead, Steve holds out his arm for her to see. ]
Not great, but I'll survive.
no subject
She looks it over, strips her gloves off; damage to the skin, surface burns, but not the muscle beneath. Painful, but it could be worse.]
Hmm. There's probably a first aid kit, I'll check. How about the limp?
[Having the best scores in the Academy meant that in simulations and field exercises she usually ran point, and it was pretty easy to take that stance, even if the uniform tugged at her. To be fair, she'd never actually met Steve face to face before Riverview.]
no subject
Nothing important. I'll walk it off.
[ He waves it off, not wanting to admit that he might really be injured. It'll be fine. He just needs some time. ]
Are you all right?
no subject
I'm fine. I'm not the one walking around without protective gear. [She gives him a bit of a Look for that.] They're putting together a mission to neutralize the acid soon, so if all goes well this storm should start to taper off. But I wanted to make sure everyone out here was safe first, and there weren't any stragglers.
no subject
He toes off his shoes and goes to stand on the mats.] I'm always up for a few rounds. [He doesn't comment on the 'like I remember' part, since he's fairly certain the Bucky she has vague memories of (from someone else) isn't him.]
no subject
[ You know, in the day or so before things go disastrously wrong again. He watches the young redhead rifle through supplies, smiling back when she gives him a look in a way that is a bit cheeky, shrugging when she criticizes him about his suit. ]
It does the job. I have enough protection to cover me from the water.
[ Steve still sits down and lets Ava have a better look at him. The burns aren't too bad and the limp is apparently from a deep bruise or sprain -- Steve must have landed hard at some point doing whatever reckless thing he felt required him to leap and land off-balance. But this is normal. ]
Good. I was making sure we didn't have anyone stranded in the parks or makeshift shelter. Luckily, I think we'll be all right. Are you going on that mission?
no subject
Mm. It's-- SHIELD-issue, right?
[A curious question, a little unsure, but she risks it anyway with a gesture at the suit. She's seen her own share of them, even had her own made by some SHIELD-techs.
He sits and she looks him over, not too bad actually, The limp seemed to be a rough landing and not some complication with rain inside the fabric, so that was good. But it meant she couldn't do too much about it. Well, she could tell him to stay off it until it healed, but he wouldn't- neither would she.]
Limp looks like some kind of strain, so just walk it off, I guess. [His arm, though, she puts some burn cream on it and wraps it. Good enough. Might help it heal up, anyway. At least keep the rain from getting into it immediately.]
Glad to hear it. I was gonna head over in a few. I've got my bike around the side. You wanna come?
no subject
It is. You work with them?
[ It's more than just the standard SHIELD look, which means Ava must have an eye for the design overall. It makes Steve wonder how closely the redhead has been to the group and if her world might be close to his. Or maybe be his -- he doesn't recognize her, but that doesn't mean it's not possible. And there's a bit of familiar calm in her attitude toward his injuries that reminds Steve of home. ]
I'd be glad to. Better than sitting around waiting to heal. And if I run it off, things should go faster, right?
no subject
I was in the Academy. Operations-- Field Agent training.
[She misses those days, honestly, even if things hadn't been perfect, even if there had always been that looming cloud of knowing what they were capable of. Finding out they were Hydra hadn't really been a shock, but it still cut. Another sort of betrayal, and she'd run. But there had been good people mired in all of that, too. Coulson, some of the other recruits, and even if she'd never quite gotten along with Hill, she'd seemed like a good person. She gives Steve a last once-over, then steps back, with a shrug.
She ditches the yellow bunny suit in favor of her own uniform. It's one thing wearing the protective gear while standing around in the rain herding people in trouble, but she's not wearing it on her bike. If it's absolutely necessary, they'll probably have more to pass out.] I'm pretty sure that's how it works. It'll help stop this rain, too.
[She teases him a little, but leads the way outside. The bike in question is a red Harley, which she hops onto with an easy smile.] C'mon.