Maladicta von Borogravia (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
deshabille) wrote2013-05-19 08:53 pm
deshabille) wrote2013-05-19 08:53 pm
two ☼ backdated; private + spam + voice
private/voice | separately to charles, erik, anya (backdated 5/19)
A word, if you have a moment.
private/text | pietro (backdated 5/19)
CES, then library. Half an hour.
spam | CES (backdated 5/19)
[It's evening by the time she comes back here. Things look familiar in the way that they might have been part of a dream, once; cement and steel and dust and grime. She looks at the structures appraisingly, neither pleased nor displeased by them. They're just there. Just something that she might face, soon enough.]
[She's trained already, but she doesn't need rest, so she runs, fast and in as indirect a pattern as she can. Even stopping and starting, dodging imaginary pursuit, she's a blur, her eyes narrowed to slits against the dirt in the air. She learns the feel of the structures as she uses them for leverage when she hits top speed. It doesn't take long, too, before she's climbing, which is slower but not much.]
[Soon enough she finds herself at the top of an abandoned, half-constructed building, only a few stories tall but higher than anything she'd have found in Borogravia but a steeple. She sits with her feet hanging over the edge and considers her options from here. She has made her first decision, and now . . . here come all the rest.]
voice | 5/19, immediately post-paintball
Well. That was fun.
( ooc; SO i completely didn't do anything with paintball because of work, so feel free to assume anything re: mal being extremely serious about paintball once she actually learned the rules. she was 4th floor, blue team. )
A word, if you have a moment.
private/text | pietro (backdated 5/19)
CES, then library. Half an hour.
spam | CES (backdated 5/19)
[It's evening by the time she comes back here. Things look familiar in the way that they might have been part of a dream, once; cement and steel and dust and grime. She looks at the structures appraisingly, neither pleased nor displeased by them. They're just there. Just something that she might face, soon enough.]
[She's trained already, but she doesn't need rest, so she runs, fast and in as indirect a pattern as she can. Even stopping and starting, dodging imaginary pursuit, she's a blur, her eyes narrowed to slits against the dirt in the air. She learns the feel of the structures as she uses them for leverage when she hits top speed. It doesn't take long, too, before she's climbing, which is slower but not much.]
[Soon enough she finds herself at the top of an abandoned, half-constructed building, only a few stories tall but higher than anything she'd have found in Borogravia but a steeple. She sits with her feet hanging over the edge and considers her options from here. She has made her first decision, and now . . . here come all the rest.]
voice | 5/19, immediately post-paintball
Well. That was fun.
( ooc; SO i completely didn't do anything with paintball because of work, so feel free to assume anything re: mal being extremely serious about paintball once she actually learned the rules. she was 4th floor, blue team. )
Spam
[A slight nod.] That works better, for some people.
Spam
[Said flatly, no inflection. It could mean a hundred different things.]
It works best for me. [Because she attaches to people, not places.]
Spam
If no one else stayed, the ugliness would be the only thing left. [In other words, it would win.]
Spam
And then who would fight it?
Spam
Exactly.
Spam
[It's not a question.]
Re: Spam
A good soldier.]
You could say that.
Spam
But you'd rather not.
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Of course, questioning the wrong thing at the wrong time can just get you killed.
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[She shrugs again.]
Well, I - [A hand to her chest: dramatic, deliberately so.] - am a very good soldier.
Spam
I don't doubt it.
[She cocks her head, brow furrowing.]
You were in the Navy during that pirate breach, right?
Spam
[Still super pleased about this.]
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[Which actually bother her, but she doesn't show it.]
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And recently I was transformed into an alternate version of myself.
...Before that - I was Dinah. [Her hand drifts up to the little golden canary at her neck.]
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[The gesture is telling. Mal watches it carefully.] Dinah?
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[The wicked grin fades, though, as she considers her next answer.]
There was a flood that changed us into people we were...close to.
Spam
[The pause, she knows what this means and latches on to it. Now she's looking Barbara in the eye, dead on, because what she wants to know is if this is something that she's not talking about because it has to be a secret, or because she wants to keep it close.]
[Iris . . . shares. Because she can, because she has that luxury, and because she shares everything, it seems. But home, such that it is, is not a place of such luxury, not even for Mal. Not a place where such luxuries are even something most people can conceptualize.]
Spam
Dinah would talk about it.
The thought strikes her all at once, and a fond, rueful smile curves her lips. Yes, Dinah would be as open and unafraid as she always is.]
I didn't know I was in love with her, until that.
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