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Post by Deleted on May 28, 2018 2:34:14 GMT
live fast, die young There were two major drawbacks of her new job: the sometimes death-defying situations (but it was exciting, so it balanced out), and the... whatever-this-chick-was. "Anna", which she'd found out wasn't even her name, had turned out to be even more annoyingly interesting than first perceived. Straight out of a 1980's Red Scare movie, the frozen Russian who'd traveled through time wasn't so fresh on the up-and-up of how the new age worked. Jack had more or less made Cory the glorified babysitter in teaching the bred assassin wonder girl how to live like she was born remotely close to this decade. Go figure.
They'd gotten off on a less than awesome foot. She was a midget, mute, Russian, old enough to be a great grandparent, and bitchy. How could Cory NOT constantly tease her? They'd gotten a few weeks to grow used to one another which meant Cory expected the iciest stares known to man, an occasional punch in the face, a knife thrown by her head, blah blah... and "Anna" had learned Cory's attitude of joke first, consequences later. Jack had gotten on both of their cases a few times and left them more or less just giving each other dirty glances. But, the past few days wasn't too terribly vicious when Cory came in the early afternoons to stay throughout the day until late at night when she headed back 'home' - wherever that happened to be for the night.
This evening she spent her time making good use of some of the gym equipment in the garage, hanging upside down from a horizontal poll and curling herself up to almost too-casually get her stomach muscles a workout. She stopped every so often to pull her phone out and shoot a quick upside down text. Jack had wanted Cory to start teaching "Anna" - ugh, what a God awful classic Wonderbread name - how to blend in a bit more publicly into the 2019 scene. She was so tense and rigid and horribly dressed in functional grays that it made the gymnast wince every time she saw the soldier trying to walk down the sidewalk like your average person. First thing was first... clothes that actually made her look like a girl in her early 20's.
With a sigh, she let her arms dangle downwards and hung loosely for a second until pulling herself to call a moderately hesitant, "Annaaaaaa," over the heavy bass of the background workout music playing from the speakers on a nearby shelf. "C'meeeeeere. Jack messaged me." |
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Let's see how far we've come, let's see how far we've come
ALIAS
Anna
POWER
Hemoconsumptive Augmentation with Magnetoreception
Civilian
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May 30, 2018 15:47:50 GMT
Post by CBE-177/"Anna" on May 30, 2018 15:47:50 GMT
On the couch upstairs a young woman sat, reading a copy of History of the 20th Century, Volume 5: 1980-2000. She wore a gray hoodie, too large for her, and jeans rolled up at the ankles and belted around her waist. Her brown-blonde hair was pulled back in a single braid that reached the bottom of her neck. A pair of blue Beats earbuds filled her ears with music. Getting that set up had been some amount of trouble. Her new roommate- Cory- had showed her something called Pandora, but trouble had emerged when 177 had struggled to remember how to write "Tchaikovsky" in English. It had resulted in a ribbing from Cory, and a nearly incocate rage in 177 at her limitation with speech. She was not one to dwell on her disability, and her peace, such as it was, had been made years before. But Khuy! it was frustrating having to deal with someone who took advantage of that fact to make a joke at your expense at every opportunity. No doubt that had been part of the reason why 177 threw a knife in her roommates direction that knife over dinner that night. It was a warning: the flung blade was relatively dull and the balance was all wrong for real throwing, but she'd still stuck it in the crack between counter and cabinet all the same. Hopefully her roommate had gotten the message. The past few days had been better. Cory always left to stay somewhere else for the night, which meant she wasn't around for the nightmares that woke 177 in the late night. They had been worse than normal lately, visions of agony and omnipresent, crushing fear. She had even wet herself one night, to her shame. Despite the music and despite the floor between them, she heard Cory's call perfectly well. Pausing the music, she dropped a bookmark in her book and made her shuffling way downstairs, pulling up her jeans to keep them from falling. She had nothing on underneath. She found Cory in an appropriately irreverent position, hanging upside-down from the exercise bars that Jack had given them. It fit with what she knew of the other girl perfectly. She raised an eyebrow in a "Well?" expression before pulling out her phone. Coryelle Wilde |
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Post by Deleted on Jun 1, 2018 0:15:48 GMT
live fast, die young She hung lazily for a moment, arms dangling towards the ground with fingertips nearly brushing against it as the last of her momentum slowly moved her a centimeter this way and that. When she opened one eye, the other making some kind of winking or crinkled position to stay closed like someone who'd recently woken up from a nap, there was a waiting Russian Rambo (Rambina?) in front of her waiting expectantly for an answer. The phone was extended to her as always and Cory tilted her head awkwardly and dramatically to the side to read it sideways.
Her head dropped again in a comfortable spot upside down and she looked at her from head to toe. Oh boy. "What are you wearing? Did you send a blind man into Goodwill with five dollars and tell him to go nuts?" With a few heavy, theatrical blinks at the ridiculousness of the outfit that an actual human being decided to wear, Cory pulled herself to sit up and grab the bar with her hands before dropping to her feet. "I'm supposed to uh... modernize you. Or something. Make you not look like a homeless refugee that got spat out from a one night stand with the 80's and 90's." She walked over to the speakers, turned the volume down decently so that it stilled played well enough to hear beneath normal conversation, and bent over to a sports duffel bag on the ground.
Unzipping it, she tossed one item of clothing after the other over her shoulder towards the soldier. Shorts, jeans, hoodies, tees. They'd figure out shoes and accessories - arguably the most important points of an ensemble - later. Basics first. "The shirts should fit just fine but the pants and stuff will be a little big on you since you make Tyrion Lannister look like Andre the Giant." With a decent chunk of the bag's contents out, she stood and put her hands on her hips to turn around. "Well... go try some on," she shrugged, looking over at the small locker room for the three of them by a lone shower.
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Let's see how far we've come, let's see how far we've come
ALIAS
Anna
POWER
Hemoconsumptive Augmentation with Magnetoreception
Civilian
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Post by CBE-177/"Anna" on Jun 6, 2018 19:20:37 GMT
She'd become used to Cory's manner by now, and though she didn't quite understand everything that was said she got the gist of being made fun of again. She kept her face impassive. She had faced worse than this. Who was Tie-ron Lannester, anyway? A shirt was tossed towards her and she caught it easily. It was one of those thin ones with short sleeves everyone in this place wore, dyed a cheerful pink color and with a rabbit shape emblazoned on the chest. Apparently womem in this time liked wearing shirts with symbols you had to be staring at their breasts to see well. She recognized what Cory was doing with the hands-on-hip stance, the words, the casual tossing of clothes. A status move, signaling power and authority. Throwing clothes on the floor, expecting 177's to clean them up. The arrogant attitude. Giving orders. Making it clear she waa the boss and that 177 was expected to obey. And in truth... it wasn't without merit. For all things which involved dealing with the outside world, the other woman was far better equipped than she. This world wasn't strange to her. She could talk. She might be lording her status over 177, but she wasn't someone 177 could afford to lose. So she didn't rebel. She picked up the clothes and trudged off to the locker area and came back a minute later in clothes that fit a good deal better but still having to hold the pants up with one hand. It meant she couldn't type very well, so she simply stood and faced Cory with a neutral expression, ready for whatever came next. Coryelle Wilde |
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Post by Deleted on Jul 4, 2018 7:46:27 GMT
live fast, die young If she was going to have to teach this frozen-in-time fairy tale lady how to act like she was actually from this century, she wasn't going to be all sunshine and rainbows about it. The same went for the soldier as far as having to train Cory with 'basic CQC' or whatever. And guns... She didn't exactly enjoy learning the how-to's of firearms. Sure, it made her look bad ass, but holding one in her hand felt heavy. The cold steel didn't belong there in her palm.
They were even. One had to learn something important from the other. Cory sighed and leaned against the wall, pulling out her phone to see if any Pokemon happened to be nearby on the game. Jack's house sucked for attracting anything but stupid Weedles and she wasn't about to become the 'very best' by capturing an army of adorable, harmless caterpillars. When she saw the woman walking back out from the locker room in the corner of her eye, she took a second to finish leveling up her prized Charmeleon before sighing and reaching back to slide the phone in her pocket.
"Ooookay, let's see what-," oh. Oh my God. She blinked at the image before her; not caring of the fact that she was still so small she had to hold the pants up on her waist a little to keep them from sagging, but the fact that she was actually, honestly, wearing a PlayBoy Bunny shirt that Cory used to sleep or wash foster animals in. It. Was. "Perfect." She held up an a-okay hand sign with an incredibly convincing straight face after giving her a good look over. Hey, what 177 didn't know wouldn't hurt her. Cory reached down again into the bag and pulled out the one belt she brought, walking over to 177 and holding it out, "Here. At least belts stayed the same, so I hope you know how to put it on," she chewed on the side of her cheek and continued to try and ignore the silver, shining bow-tie bunny on the girl's chest. It was poetic.
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Let's see how far we've come, let's see how far we've come
ALIAS
Anna
POWER
Hemoconsumptive Augmentation with Magnetoreception
Civilian
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Jul 17, 2018 18:11:46 GMT
Post by CBE-177/"Anna" on Jul 17, 2018 18:11:46 GMT
She tool the proffered belt without protest, fastening it above her hips and bouncing a little on one foot to make sure they stayed in place. The shirt was fine, but if she had to fight the pants would get in the way. She found herself planning the best way to discard them if necessary before she stopped herself. No, this place was supposed to be safe. According to Jack, she wouldn't need to do that... at least, not as often as she had before. Still, it never hurt to be prepared. She walked over to shelf where she'd hidden this room's weapon, took the combat knife from behind the weights, and rolled up her right pants leg to strap it to her calf. She didn't have a gun small enough to easily conceal but she hoped to get one from Jack soon. She still felt strangely exposed and it took her a moment to realize why. Her head was bare. She didn't know why, but she didn't like the feeling of having her head exposed. It discomforted her in a way she couldn't quite verbalize. Normally she would have simply put on her hat- but apparently Cory was in charge of her dress today. Hoping to make her guardian for the day happy, she included an offer of weaponry when she typed on her phone and showed it to Cory. Coryelle Wilde |
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Post by Deleted on Jul 29, 2018 9:08:08 GMT
live fast, die young She watched the smaller woman hop around like a pogo stick before she seemed happy enough with the pants. "I'm not that fat," she frowned falsely, drumming on her hollow stomach with flat hands a couple of times before finally showing a smirk. "We'll get you some that actually fit you, but first we have to at least make you look somewhat normal to go out and actually buy them." Cory leaned down again to the bag and pulled out a couple of other shirts - both with and without sleeves - and set her hands on her hips when she stood up and turned back around.
An eyebrow rose and her face scrunched as she watched Anna slide a knife onto a strap she kept around her calf. "Just to let you know, normal people don't wear that," though she supposed it wasn't worth her time to try and argue it with someone like her. If she needed a knife hung around her damn neck, Cory wouldn't be able to talk her out of it. She was pretty sure she was a direct descendant of Crocodile Dundee... but she was still researching. To be determined.
The runner leaned forward a little to see the phone before steadying it with a hand of her own at its side to read the words typed on the screen. "Uhhhhh," what was she supposed to make of that? The lost expression on her face just about answered the text for her without the need for words. "Thanks? I guess? I don't really need it, I'm not a knife person. Or a weapon person," she clarified. All this super-soldier, KGB nonsense was all Anna. Hell, she was pretty sure Jack didn't even like holding a weapon. Cory would stick to her running. "We'll get a hat. A cap or something. Not anything knit, this is a sunshiny state. You'll look like an idiot."
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Let's see how far we've come, let's see how far we've come
ALIAS
Anna
POWER
Hemoconsumptive Augmentation with Magnetoreception
Civilian
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Post by CBE-177/"Anna" on Aug 3, 2018 2:19:39 GMT
It wasn't that Cory was wider then 177, exactly- it was more of a question of body shape, really. Where Cory had feminine curves, hips widening below her waist to help keep errant trousers in place, 177 had a more mannish body shape, wider shoulders and hips that curved practically not at all and were no use whatsoever in keeping a pair of trousers on. That fact had frustrated her in the days when she used to care about such things. She didn't bother typing a reply to Cory's comment about knives and normal people, sticking with a tilted head and a raised eyebrow in a “Really?” expression before shrugging. At Cory's statement about not being a “weapons person” a look of understanding came over her face, and she typed again. A thought struck her, and she typed again, holding out the phone with a slight and knowing smile. Her Ace Security baseball cap, one side still stained with blood, was on one of the shelves. She stepped forward, slid it on, and gave Cory a thumb's up signal. Coryelle Wilde |
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Post by Deleted on Nov 5, 2018 4:15:58 GMT
live fast, die young "Pffff, yeah, no thanks," the response of the knife and its would-be purposes already had her chuckling and rolling her eyes. "I didn't mean I'm-not-a-weapon-person because I want you to teach me, Cobra Commander, I'm a-okay with you being... whatever kind of fighter thing you are. I'll just be me and Jack can live with it," she hoped. She wasn't about to become some assassin killer from a Hollywood movie script after training with the no-name, mute, ice capsuled super-soldier. Good God, her life really had turned into a B-Movie script.
"Better idea!" she quickly pushed the phone down back to the girl's side where it came from, picking up her own backpack and slinging it over a shoulder. She checked her wallet - a silver credit card glistening on the top - and insured it was kept safe and tightly in its sleeve. It wasn't like she had funds to pay for Jack's guard dog on her own. "Howww abouuuuut you just don't freak out in public for once and actually act like a normal person, hm? It's a mall, not a boot camp. If you start acting all defensive and suspicious, people are going to think you're there for trouble. After that, you and I officially don't know each other," and she'd already be on the bike to head home.
The last thing she needed was this girl making the whole dang food court uneasy with her intense eye-measuring/harassing. "Alrighty, shopping time," she clapped her hands once and jogged up the stairs to the first floor, scooping up her bike keys into her palm, and nudging the front door open. "You get the helmet." It was already in the air before the Russian could disagree - tossed over Cory's shoulder as she straddled over the bike herself.
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Let's see how far we've come, let's see how far we've come
ALIAS
Anna
POWER
Hemoconsumptive Augmentation with Magnetoreception
Civilian
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Post by CBE-177/"Anna" on Dec 7, 2018 2:03:09 GMT
As a matter of fact, 177 considered herself a versatile fighter. She considered it one of her greatest strengths, actually. Obviously nothing beat a carbine in modern urban combat, but she was adapt at the quieter melee weapons as well, and even knew a few things about improvisation. Just about anything could kill a person if you used it correctly. She wanted to type this and explain it to Cory but the other girl was already grabbing her backpack and rushing up the stairs. 177 followed, not far behind, considering Cory's comments about being a fighter and wondering what the other girl did to take care of herself. She understood, after having it explained to her by Jack, that her abilities were caused by being a metahuman and that this girl was one as well. All the same 177 had seen little to indicate an acceptable competence in fighting from Cory. That was worrying, not simply because of Jack's charge to teach, but because the world was a lethal, dangerous place. Going around unable to defend yourself was simply asking for trouble. 177 had spent too much of her life being helpless. She would not be helpless again. Outside she caught the tossed helmet easily and frowned at it before reluctantly realizing she would have to take her hat off to put it on. With her head bared to the daylight she felt vulnerable and pulled the new headpiece on as quickly as possible. Cory was already on the motorcycle. There was no sidecar. 177 hesitated. Visibly. The idea of sudden closeness alarmed her. She didn't like the idea of a ride pressed so close to another person, touching, body against theirs. She didn't want to experience that sensation again, and the idea made her stomach give a little jump. She might have hesitated longer if it had been with anyone else but Cory. She knew the other girl was watching and in the end her pride was stronger then her fear. Any sign of the latter, Cory would pounce on. In the end she wanted that even less then she wanted to get on the bike. She climbed on, fingers finding grip around the seat (she liked the idea of having to hold on to Cory even less), and nodded to Cory that she was ready. Her face was as expressionless as ever. Coryelle Wilde |
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