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Post by scandinavia on Nov 1, 2010 17:02:26 GMT -8
The air was cold and crisp as the sun rose. Snow and ice crunched under the woman's boots, her usual dress forgone in sake of something modern. Her longsword and her axe were strapped to her back, along with the bag that carried all of her belongings. Well, everything that had become hers since she left her home years ago when she regained her memories. She was a traveler, a nomad of sorts on a mission to find her family. Of course, it was hard to get any information from anyone when they thought you were little more than another crazy street bum. She didn't blame them though, she looked worn out and half mad anyways.
A cold gust of wind ripped through the air and she shivered, the chill air cutting right through her coat and into her bones. It was strange to feel that biting cold now, when for so many years the cold couldn't touch her. She had been immune to it once, and now it made her feel small and weak. She shivered again, clutching her long coat around her, heading towards the post office, ready to take a look at the job board once again. She needed the money, and it would be warm inside anyways. The trek up the snowcovered path towards the hope of warmth was long and tiring.
She ducked inside of the building, smiling a to the man behind the desk who waved cheerfully at her as she walked in. "Velkommen tilbake Dahlia, Fortsatt på utkikk etter en jobb?" He called out to her cheerfully. The question hit deep. She'd been job-hunting for a long time now, and she still hadn't found one that had stuck. Hard labor here and there where her strength was needed, but no one was willing to put up with her for that long. She sighed before admitting "Ja, fortsatt på jakt." It was tough to admit, but it had to be done.
Quietly she turned to the bulletin board to look for anything that she might be able to do. Sighing again she spoke in english, mostly to herself, but loud enough for others to hear. "It's not like a job oppurtunity's just gonna come walking in through that door.." Fate was never that kind, was it?
Velkommen tilbake Dahlia, Fortsatt på utkikk etter en jobb? = Welcome back Dahlia, still looking for a job?
Ja, fortsatt på jakt = Yeah, still on the hunt.
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Post by saldussapnai on Nov 8, 2010 20:12:46 GMT -8
The door to the tavern opened with an abrupt slam of icy winter wind, marking the hasty entrance of a tightly-bound traveler in a green cloak and broad-brimmed leather hat. The latter article was swiftly removed, the shuddering figure shaking loose wet flakes of snow before he replaced the hat, turning the brim low to conceal his stormy forest eyes.
His expression was grim, jaw set as though caging back a fierce argument, as he was followed by a tall flaxen haired man, who was gesticulating in Russian with broad sweeps of his arms and voice, his face and smile decidedly pleasant in spite of the sharp undertone of his native tongue, the irritable gleam in his violet eyes.
Toris nodded along as Ivan spoke, and in some part of his mind noted and responded to the words the other was saying, but as he carefully unclasped and hung up his cloak by the door the Lithuanian’s attention was primarily focused on not snapping back, on not trying to defend himself against the Russian’s characteristically unreasonable demands and expectations.
Once again, Ivan was criticizing his efficacy as a “Captain,” on his allegedly low standards when it came to building a legitimate crew, and Toris’ frayed nerves were cutting themselves against the restrained words of his mind’s bladed tongue, supplying only too many ways to stab himself in the foot in retort to the unappeasable Slavic pirate.
Phrases such as, “I’m sorry, but in the sane world, people don’t normally know the common protocol for collecting potential criminals,” “excuse me for not wanting to worry about having my throat slit in the middle of the night,” and, most dangerously, “well, if I am disappointing you so much, why don’t you take this job for me, and I’ll be the ranting bastard son of a giant psychotic nag holding you captive?” ran rampant in his head, but Toris gave no voice to such thoughts.
Knowing that responding in sarcasm would only bring him more trouble, the Baltic maintained his stony silence, pacing up to the bar and raising an arm to the keep. “Two bottles; one vodka, one mead,” he placed, quiet and direct. “And please, for the love of God, make it quick.” Hearing the Russian come up behind him, Toris pinched the bridge of his nose, breathing out slowly and closing his eyes to hide the burning glare.
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Post by ivan on Nov 16, 2010 14:31:49 GMT -8
Ivan stalked in after Toris, still hissing in Russian," Это последнее мы подобрали! Он чуть не убил себя, фиксируя пистолет! Черт GUN Торис, то, что мы используем на регулярной основе. Уровень некомпетентности экипажа вы решите забрать, вне Мария, это ужасно! " His hands gestured wildly, voice rising in pitch and tone on some of the words; the smile turning fixed and more like he was baring his teeth than actually smiling.
Ivan's eyes searched the tense lines of his 'Captain's' back before his smile warped into an ugly expression and he hissed," Вы еще слушаете? Вы знаете, как это опасные для нас обоих, если у нас нет полной экипажа компетентных бойцов и работников?!" He paced a little, snatching at the bottle of vodka the bartender placed on the counter and twisted it open before murmuring in a more patronizing tone," Мы должны эффективности. Прочность и лояльности будет бонус ... как ее! Посмотрите на нее Бьюсь об заклад, она может бить чуть не кто-нибудь на корабле в настоящее время, кроме нас и Мария!"
Ivan turned, looking at the rather tall pale woman and gestured too her, calling in an accent thick with his native language," Perhaps, a word! You, I am wanting to talk to you, if you spare a moment da? To help settle argument~"
Translations:
That last one we picked up! He nearly killed himself, FIXING A GUN! A damn GUN Toris, something that we use on a regular basis. The level of incompetence of the crew you choose to pick up, outside of Maria, is horrible!"
Are you even listening? Do you know how hazardous it is to both of us if we do not have a full crew of competent fighters and workers?!
We need efficiency. Strength and loyalty would be a bonus...like her! Look at her I bet she could beat damn near anyone on the ship currently besides ourselves and Maria!
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Post by scandinavia on Nov 25, 2010 15:55:56 GMT -8
Dahlia heard the two men enter, hearing the angry Russian words. Her head turned away from the board to look over towards the two of them, and almost instantly her heart sunk. Lithuania. The smaller one, he had to be Lithuania. Baltia's son, the one who looked so much like him. She turned away quickly, turning her attention a little more towards his companion. Her mind softly identified him 'Russia, he is Kiev Rus' child.' So then, two nations were together, although it seemed unwillingly. She wondered just what they could be doing here of all places. She wondered if they remembered.
She couldn't understand the Russian, although Kiev was like her little brother, she did not know much his or his children's languages. She gathered from how he followed up the last sentance though that something had been said about her. She blinked once before he spoke, a strangely pleasant voice thickly accented but somehow easy on her ears. Carefully she picked her way to the two men, her eyes darting from the Russian to the boy who looked so much like her beloved. Seeing him only made her pray that perhaps Baltia had been given the same second chance as she had, that she could find him. None of these emotions showed on her face though.
Where the Lithuanian seemed to fear his companion, or at least recognized the massive man's strength, Dahlia seemed fearless. She was bold and brave, and was unafraid of any nation, living or dead. She had stood on her own before, and she had not feared them then, and no modern nations were as great as the ancients, the nations she had known in her time. Calmly she let her eyes drift back to the Russian, having only diverted a few seconds to her thoughts. "Ja?" She asked, before going on in accented english "What is it you require of me sir?" Formal speech for a woman who seemed anything but, although looks were never everything.
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Post by saldussapnai on Nov 25, 2010 16:29:02 GMT -8
As the barkeep quietly set the mug of frothing mead before Toris, the Lithuanian gave an instinctive nod of gratitude, cradling the drink close and slowly easing the pincer grip he had over the bridge of his nose. His stomach roiled with frustration.
‘Am I listening? Ha. Right. As if I would dare imagine turning my thoughts in any other direction while you’re belittling me with the obvious, Ivan. Treating me like I know nothing, like I am nothing—why in the world would I want to miss that?’
Propping his forehead on his palm, the brunet let out a silent, slow breath, trying to will himself calm as he looked at his reflection in the brew, idly wondering how much of the darkness in his face was cast by the liquid and how much was sheer stress.
He was going to have to respond to Ivan at some point, the Baltic knew; he was already readying himself to be cut apart again for either trying to stand or for not backpedaling fast enough. Either way, the hopelessness of his no-win situation coated his mouth with simmering fury. Toris almost took a draft of mead just to try and wash out the bitter taste, but then, Ivan may decide to take offense at his ‘lack of attention’.
That was when the Russian abruptly changed tack, bringing Toris’ attention back to his surroundings as he hailed over a local woman. The Lithuanian looked up, eyebrows drawn in slight consternation. There was strength in her stance, an easy confidence that stood solid and unshakeable. Her presence didn’t command respect; it rallied it, front-line and center.
The Lithuanian gave a polite inclination of his head in greeting, attempting a small smile even as he wondered what the hell Ivan was doing. He glanced over to the blond, wary of his intent.
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Post by ivan on Dec 2, 2010 18:14:49 GMT -8
Ivan spread his arms, looking pleased that she was so bold as to not only approach them but stood like someone who could fight and hold her own," Ah, thank you. I would hope you'd indulge me in a little experiment da?" He looks at Toris and back to her, spreading his arms a little wider," I would like you to hit me. Mind not anywhere below the belt if you please."
The Russian tossed his head towards Toris and smirked," I want to show him something, and I need you to hit me to do it. I will not retaliate, and I will not get mad. So hit me once, as hard as you can muster comrade." No one had ever said Ivan was sane, and its not the first time he'd let someone hit him.
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Post by scandinavia on Jan 2, 2011 13:44:48 GMT -8
Dahlia certainly wasn't expecting what the Russian said to her, nor was she so sure his request was a good idea. She couldn't see how hitting him was going to help settle his argument with the man she was most certain was one of her children. She raised an eyebrow at him stating calmly "I don't know exactly what's going on between the two of you that could be settled by letting someone else hit you..." Her voice trailed off as she looked Ivan over.
Gods above how he looked like Kiev, her little brother. At least it would be easier to hit him knowing he looked like her sparring partner of many years. She couldn't punch him in the face though, not only would that be a bit of a low blow, but she could never hit a face that looked like Kiev's. A smirk crossed her face as she balled her hand into a fist, preparing herself. Calmly she continued "But I've never been one to question a request made to me in such a polite manner" With that she let her whole body shift, right arm swinging back just enough to gather strength and pick up the right momentum.
Without a sound she swung it forwards, full-force, towards his shoulder, curious as to what effect it would have on him upon contact. Most men of the area had trouble lasting long in a fight against her. Then again, Ivan was built rather like a very large tree, and unsurprisingly he felt a bit like a solid brick wall when she hit him. She made no sign that it had hurt though, because it really hadn't. She gave him a look almost seeking his approval of the strike, her eyes almost asking How was that? It wasn't like she sought his approval, but she was curious as to if he'd even felt the blow.
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Post by saldussapnai on Jan 2, 2011 21:34:52 GMT -8
At the mention of an 'experiment,' Toris could feel his insides curl with dread. Once the Russian actually announced what he was planning, the Lithuanian's gaze widened, and he turned his astonished expression towards the Slavic man. "Ivan, ka-" The blond continued speaking over him, and Toris reluctantly subsided, though his mouth turned down sharply. Really, the lengths Ivan was willing to go to to prove a point...though, Toris' temper couldn't help but reflect that if the Russian was willing to hurt himself over something stupid, hey, who was he to stop him even if he could.
That said, he couldn't help but glance back at the woman and hope that she would be less willing to cater to the Russian's self-desructive tendencies. Those hopes were swiftly dashed as she stepped up to meet the challenge, and the muffled sound of fist hitting clothed flesh made Toris' grip white on the mug. He glanced at Ivan, keeping a stoic expression as he tried to measure the effect of impact. The Lithuanian tried to quell the vicious part of himself that revelled in the poetic justice of Ivan taking a blow for once.
The brunet uncurled his fingers from the mug, keeping his eyes riveted to the Russian as he waited for the other to explain himself.
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Post by ivan on Jan 4, 2011 8:15:31 GMT -8
Ivan watched her wind back, and exhaled just as the fist slammed into his shoulder. He grunted softly, rocking lightly on his feet before he clasped his hands together and grinned," Spasibo~ Many thanks comrade!" He turned to look at Toris over his shoulder with a smirk," She does hit harder. She actually moved me~" He giggled a little before he descended into Russian again as he turned to wave a finger at Toris," Вот почему мы должны быть, выбирая более внимательно!женщина, случайная женщина, может ударить меня труднее, чем кто-либо, кроме двух исключений!"
Translation: This is why we should be picking and choosing more carefully! A woman, a random woman, can hit me harder than anyone except the two exceptions!
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Post by scandinavia on Jan 16, 2011 14:07:52 GMT -8
Dahlia cracked a sly grin, marveling at her own strength. In her mind she could hear herself saying Yep, still got it. The Russian was built like a tree and she had sure as hell moved him, even a little bit. She'd done what most men would break their hands attempting. She nodded politely when he thanked her, answering "Du er velkommen" You're welcome. Her pride hardly showed when he commented to his companion about her strength. She had learned long ago to keep that pride in check, lest it be her downfall.
In the end it had been a bear that ended her, but she didn't dwell on that too much. She was defending her children, and they had survived, as a mother that was all she could ask for. She hardly raised en eyebrow when he began speaking Russian to his companion, obviously it wasn't something she needed to hear them talking about. Though some words danced through her memories, something about being careful and hitting hard. She had never spoken her brother's tongue well, she had only understood half of what he had babbled at her angrily when she bested him in their spars.
All the same, she found herself curious about the situation. She cleared her throat a little before inquiring "I don't mean to pry, sir," She addressed the Russian, presuming he was probably the one in charge of the duo, he seemed to have that air of leadership and power to him "but what brings a Russian and a Lithuanian all the way out to Norway of all places, surely you weren't simply looking for an end to an argument?" Call it woman's intuition, but she just figured there was more to the fact they were here than looking for someone to punch the Russian and end some obsurd argument. She spoke in a tone that implied she would happily offer her help in whatever else it was they sought to do here. She was familiar enough with the terrain, and the language, to be of more use to them than just the fact she was strong.
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Post by saldussapnai on Jan 21, 2011 17:18:53 GMT -8
Toris had to admit that he was impressed--both by the strange woman's strength, and by Ivan's casual ability to shake off the blow. Of course, it was Ivan--the Russian looked as though he could shrug off a bullet. When the other turned towards him to illustrate the point of the display, shaking his finger with a smirk, Lithuanian let out a small sigh, ignoring the small stir of ire that wanted to rear its ugly head.
"Я отдаю себе отчет в необходимости, Иван," he finally replied, keeping his voice level and calm as he shifted his grip on the mug, forest eyes meeting violet. Speaking Russian still made him uneasy, but the alternative would only bring them up to arguing again.
Before he could speak further the woman addressed Ivan once more, bringing Toris's attention back to her. He blinked slightly at the casual helpfulness in her tone, and couldn't help but smile. "You are right, miss. We're actually in Norway to restock our ship," he explained, knowing that as Ivan's proxy captain, he couldn't afford to look too discountable.
He sat up straighter, gesturing to a nearby chair as an offer, before continuing on. "My first mate was just expressing his concerns about the discipline issues on our crew, and suggesting that we tighten our recruiting policy." He tilted his head, mouth quirking. "On the subject, would you happen to know a place where we can find good sky-faring sailors?"
Who better to ask than the locals, ne? At any rate, Ivan was unable to say he was doing nothing.
I am aware of the need, Ivan.
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Post by ivan on Feb 22, 2011 17:42:41 GMT -8
Ivan settled heavily on the other side of Toris, snagging his own tankard to drink from and sighed in contentment. Only those in cold countries brewed anything decent.
He leaned into the counter as he sat sideways and glanced at his Captain and than at her from over his head, both of them taller than the Lithuanian," Da. We would be much obliged...it saves me much time if I not have to deal with so many problem children. My Captain gets upset at delays and fights..."
He patted Toris' shoulder just a touch too hard before he downed the rest of his drink and pushed the cup across the counter for more.
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