ѕarιѕѕa "noт тoday, ѕaтan" тнeron (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
magnitudes) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
maskormenace2017-03-01 06:14 am
magnitudes) wrote in maskormenace2017-03-01 06:14 am
00? ( video. ) not sarissa, tho.
( There is a woman on screen who looks remarkably unconcerned.
She also looks familiar, possibly, given that the family resemblance between Sarissa and her grandmother is staggering. Notable differences – this woman is obviously wearing something a little more era appropriate for this place, but still not quite right, in faded green and brown cut to match World War II era demands, all practicality. A scar, or an injury in the process of becoming a scar, cuts down from her left cheekbone towards her jaw, and it creases into something like a dimple when she speaks.
Between the knuckles of her fore and index fingers rests a cigar, white smoke curling upwards and blooming outwards like a drop of ink twisting through water. Her accent, when she speaks, is markedly Greek. )
I have always heard America called the “Land of Opportunity.” Opportunity— ( A small gesture with her free hand, palm flat and facing down - so-so. )
Maybe. Feet draggers, I think, more likely. And poor filing, ah? That is definite.
( There is a little smile, though it’s not a very mirthful thing, as she picks up a file. ) I was giving the paperwork for a Sarissa Theron. They insist it’s mine, but— no. If anyone knows this woman, I think it better these papers get back to safe hands.
( Her smile widens, sharpens. )
My name is Eunike. For the record? This is— cock and balls. Bullshit. Dragging us from our own wars, to fight theirs? That is convenient, no? Cowardice, I think.
( Note: this is related to the Dial Straits plot. Sarissa ported out on the 1st March and this is set on the 3rd – for those two days Sarissa’s device would have been disconnected. Now is back in action, but in the wrong hands. )
She also looks familiar, possibly, given that the family resemblance between Sarissa and her grandmother is staggering. Notable differences – this woman is obviously wearing something a little more era appropriate for this place, but still not quite right, in faded green and brown cut to match World War II era demands, all practicality. A scar, or an injury in the process of becoming a scar, cuts down from her left cheekbone towards her jaw, and it creases into something like a dimple when she speaks.
Between the knuckles of her fore and index fingers rests a cigar, white smoke curling upwards and blooming outwards like a drop of ink twisting through water. Her accent, when she speaks, is markedly Greek. )
I have always heard America called the “Land of Opportunity.” Opportunity— ( A small gesture with her free hand, palm flat and facing down - so-so. )
Maybe. Feet draggers, I think, more likely. And poor filing, ah? That is definite.
( There is a little smile, though it’s not a very mirthful thing, as she picks up a file. ) I was giving the paperwork for a Sarissa Theron. They insist it’s mine, but— no. If anyone knows this woman, I think it better these papers get back to safe hands.
( Her smile widens, sharpens. )
My name is Eunike. For the record? This is— cock and balls. Bullshit. Dragging us from our own wars, to fight theirs? That is convenient, no? Cowardice, I think.
( Note: this is related to the Dial Straits plot. Sarissa ported out on the 1st March and this is set on the 3rd – for those two days Sarissa’s device would have been disconnected. Now is back in action, but in the wrong hands. )
no subject
no subject
no subject
( Its not like she's bitter or anything. )
I know the year here, but it is still nineteen forty-three at home. You check your calendar and tell me if it washes away any of your past.
no subject
[ the hint of vulnerability in her tone disappears. she's back to all hard edges. ]
But if you think you're the only one who's lost somebody — who's suffered, think again.
no subject
( She spits, and there is the quiet click of her tongue. )
Good day, Miss Jones.
no subject
Look, lady. I'm not Captain Fucking America. I don't wave a goddamn flag around or sing the Star-Spangled Banner. Sure, there are a lot of heartless pricks here. You can find them anywhere.
My family died. And I couldn't do shit to save them. You don't see me picking fights with random assholes.
But go ahead. Have fun blaming me. I don't give a crap.
[ with that, she hangs up. sarah's on her way to help. she'll be fine. that's all jess cares about, at the end of the day, no matter how annoyed she feels. ]