![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
01 | Video
Aug. 6th, 2016 03:00 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
nickovitch[ Illya intends to introduce himself properly. That is what you do in a hostile land, isn't it? Not quite name, rank, serial number, but close enough. He's been fiddling with the video functions of his communication device, after wandering around the environs of his new home just to get a quick impression of things. And then he started reading the welcome brochure in full.
He's holding it in one hand now, although the paper looks a little crumpled, like it's been balled up and thrown once or twice. Or five times, but whose counting. Illya himself is composed, more or less; a fair-haired gentleman in his thirties, dressed in a dark turtleneck and jacket, his mouth twisted into a faint frown. Blonde, blue-eyed, and handsome, he's physically close to the epitome of Aryan perfection. The punchline of that particular assumption drops when Illya opens his mouth, though. Because: ]
Why tattoos? Surely there is some other way of marking newcomers -- imPorts as it says here -- to keep track of who arrives and departs. Sufficiently advanced technology, and it comes down to tattoos. Words instead of -- I don't ...
[ That's right. This particular imPort is Russian, judging by the thick accent lacing each word. He isn't bothering to hide it, either, speaking in a controlled, somewhat clipped tone. While his overall demeanor is calm but guarded, those accustomed to closely reading others might guess he's more disturbed by the topic than he lets on. Illya takes a breath, glancing down at the paper and then back up. ]
Where I am from, there was a terrible war fought because groups of people were gathered in specific places and marked with similar tattoos before being slaughtered. [ He shrugs casually, as if he is aware (or assumes) personal biases won't make much difference in this world. As if what Hilter did doesn't still piss him off. It has only been twenty years in his world, though, and of what he has read about the rift between America and Russia, it is this detail that stands out. Aside from 'Russians R Bad'. ] But perhaps I am overly sensitive to such things. Perhaps it is not a problem here.
My name is Illya Kuryakin. I am from Moscow. [ Yes, that Moscow. ] Does anyone else come from outside the United States? It seems a great many people are from America, or places influenced by it. Or, if you are American, how does your world differ from this one?
[ Look, aside from the secret agent skills, he dabbles in other areas, including science and maybe a little psychology. (Researching personal weaknesses ftw.) Right now, throwing tantrums and breaking things isn't going to get him any answers on what's going on. So he might as well start collecting information by asking those who've been in his position. Especially if the government actually wants him to register. The more you know, right? ]
He's holding it in one hand now, although the paper looks a little crumpled, like it's been balled up and thrown once or twice. Or five times, but whose counting. Illya himself is composed, more or less; a fair-haired gentleman in his thirties, dressed in a dark turtleneck and jacket, his mouth twisted into a faint frown. Blonde, blue-eyed, and handsome, he's physically close to the epitome of Aryan perfection. The punchline of that particular assumption drops when Illya opens his mouth, though. Because: ]
Why tattoos? Surely there is some other way of marking newcomers -- imPorts as it says here -- to keep track of who arrives and departs. Sufficiently advanced technology, and it comes down to tattoos. Words instead of -- I don't ...
[ That's right. This particular imPort is Russian, judging by the thick accent lacing each word. He isn't bothering to hide it, either, speaking in a controlled, somewhat clipped tone. While his overall demeanor is calm but guarded, those accustomed to closely reading others might guess he's more disturbed by the topic than he lets on. Illya takes a breath, glancing down at the paper and then back up. ]
Where I am from, there was a terrible war fought because groups of people were gathered in specific places and marked with similar tattoos before being slaughtered. [ He shrugs casually, as if he is aware (or assumes) personal biases won't make much difference in this world. As if what Hilter did doesn't still piss him off. It has only been twenty years in his world, though, and of what he has read about the rift between America and Russia, it is this detail that stands out. Aside from 'Russians R Bad'. ] But perhaps I am overly sensitive to such things. Perhaps it is not a problem here.
My name is Illya Kuryakin. I am from Moscow. [ Yes, that Moscow. ] Does anyone else come from outside the United States? It seems a great many people are from America, or places influenced by it. Or, if you are American, how does your world differ from this one?
[ Look, aside from the secret agent skills, he dabbles in other areas, including science and maybe a little psychology. (Researching personal weaknesses ftw.) Right now, throwing tantrums and breaking things isn't going to get him any answers on what's going on. So he might as well start collecting information by asking those who've been in his position. Especially if the government actually wants him to register. The more you know, right? ]