exsiliumlogs | [OPEN] Standing on the cliff face, highest fall you'll ever grace

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[OPEN] Standing on the cliff face, highest fall you'll ever grace

Date & Time: various; post zombie madness
Location: Places
Characters: Chloe Frazer and YOU-- or at least we all hope it's you in there
Summary: last boarding call for the S.S. Disaster of the Century (viva la revolution)
Warnings: copious amounts of Robin Hooditis

A: Cafeteria

[She doesn't much care for the idea of borrowing anything when supplies are scarce. Doesn't like the thought that this is-- for the moment-- all they've got left. But plans are plans, and change is necessary, and nothing in this world (or any other for that matter) comes without a cost. If they mean to hole themselves up long enough for negotiations to leave them all in a better state than the one they're in right now, then spare packets of food and water are more necessity than nicety.

Still, doesn't make the pill go down any easier; Chloe spends more time hovering near the kitchens than what's appropriate for anyone that isn't Gordon Ramsay. Might be worth looking into, honestly.]

B: Corridors; farther away from housing

[And the damage isn't as noticeable as it ought to be, (years of abandonment means the base already looks a half step away from collapsing like a house of cards) but considering she'd rather not experience what it's like getting sucked out into the endless vacuum that is our known universe any time soon, Chloe's quick to lend a hand wherever it's needed amongst the more battle scarred sections of the station. Sure, she's exhausted-- looks the part, sporting a good layer of salt and dust that's been there since the start of the undead fiasco-- but the sooner they get the base back into (relatively) good shape, the sooner she'll feel secure enough to sleep like a proper human being.

If it takes hammering at a few panels for that to be a reality, count her in.]

C: Housing

[Supplies seen to for the moment, holes patched up and wiring duct taped together, Chloe's just about done. The past week hasn't been kind, the past year hasn't stopped digging in under her skin: she's spent. Walks like one of the staggering dead they'd just spent all they've got in them to kill off, on a mission to just get through that last bloody section of the station to hibernate so hard they'll have to hire a prince to wake her up.

So it's safe to say she's not really watching where she's going, arms full up with pilfered foodstuffs and scrap-- and it's also safe to say she won't appreciate any incoming distractions. Or collisions.]

---

[ooc: Use whatever format you like-- and if none of these prompts suit you, feel free to create one of your own! Chloe's out and about and prone to dozing off in a few inappropriate spots for impromptu naps; it's a terrible habit someone should do something about it.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[The pounding continues for a few more beats-- hammered out quite literally-- till the thick sheet of mangled metal pinned up against the wall looks like it stands at least a somewhat decent chance of staying put. From there she wipes her forearm across her face (which does her the favor of making everything worse) before settling back on her heels to respond, casually:] Non molto tempo.

[It's not until she bothers to glance off in his direction that she realizes he's not just out of place like the rest of them-- he's out of her bloody league. Christ, she's hitting the 'rude to ancient nobility lottery' this month.] Oh god. Sorry. Long week - wasn't paying attention.

The weeks are often long here.

[His tone was calm, perfectly even, if he had felt she was being rude he showed no sign of it. ]

May I ask what you are doing?

[Repairing the wall he could tell that much but just how that one piece might strengthen the wall... or maybe it was to prevent those wires from dangling out where some one might trip on them? This technology was still so odd.]

[To a thief like her, it feels like she might as well have let Lord Byron sit for a minute while she finished having a smoke break. She romanticizes this stuff a bit, all right; it's a serious problem.]

This section took a hard hit from-- something [Likely a spell, if she had to take a guess.] during the fight. Damaged a bunch of wires that keep the lights in working order on this end.

As for the metal, well...[Chloe purses her lips, shrugs.] between you and me I'd really rather not leave a giant hole in the wall in case what's behind it gives out and sucks us all off into space.

[Sucked out?

Giovanni sat a hand on the metal wall, running it down the melted surface of one of the ruined panels. ]

I had been told there was no air to breath out there but for it to be possible to pull some one out...

[It would mean some one's death. Asphyxiation. This was such a hostile place, unsuited to human life.]

Why would we ever have been forced to such a place?

[He spoke softly of his frustration, not really intending it to be overheard, before his hand fell away from the wall. ]

Would you need some help? I do not understand much of this...

[A hand was waved in the air indicating, what was for him, impossible levels of technology. ]

But, I could hold a panel in place to make it easier for you to secure.

Because the people running this show haven't got a clue how to wage a war without getting us all killed. [Offhanded remark or not, it hits too close to home for her to ignore. The offer that follows, though--] Oh. What, this? No. Wouldn't want you to get your hands dirty.

Not that you couldn't if you wanted to, but you're not exactly dressed for the occasion.

[They retreat when they should strike, send people on holidays when missions onto the mainland would prove more useful, and waste effort battling the symptoms of the war and not their cause.
He agreed with her assessment but kept silent until he could find some diplomatic way of saying so but though he tried to seem detached a touch of the anger he felt at people being conscripted to fight in a war not of their time or world and without their choosing did slip in. ]

They have been fighting for so long they have lost... direction.

[What? Are lace and silk unfit workman's attire? He smiled at her refusal. It was probabally the case that he looked like something delicate, maybe deserving of a place in a museum instead of doing any serious labor. As it should be.]

It is an old tunic, I should probabally see about some thing more modern but it is nice to have something comfortable from home around.

[And the old outfit had seen more trouble than he cared to admit. Right now he was 'in disguise' as a mere banker after all. It was for the best if people saw him as she seemed to.]

Old as in usual attire, right? Because what you're wearing reads to me like history's prada. [The rest she drops for the moment-- sidesteps, really. It gives her a few more seconds to rest, and...well, truth be told, she'd rather hear more about a point in time that's one hell of a lot better than the one they're currently in.]

[Pra-da. The term was new but, given context clues, the meaning seemed clear enough. ]

Si, in my time this would be seen as a very fashionable outfit. It, and I myself, are out of place in this time of space living and time travel.

Which is why you ought to leave this to those of us whose hands are about as dirty as it gets already, darling.

One can not always cling to the past, one has to work for the future.
In the end it is only clothing and not as important as making sure none of us are pulled out into space.

[However if she would feel more comfortable about it. ]

I could stand behind and inundate you with a thousand uninformed questions about what you are doing?

[So said with a wry smile. He was joking, surely!]

Somehow, [Chloe goes for her hammer again, fingers of her free hand pressing up against the section of metal she'd been working on; testing it to make doubly sure it's secure.] I don't doubt you would.

Roll up your sleeves then, darling.

[Giovanni nodded and took a moment to do just that, rolling each sleeve up to his elbow so that no bit of lace would be soiled in the cause of wall rebuilding.
There were a few new panels on the ground behind her, one of these was lifted and set into place next to the section she had apparently just completed. It still needed to be secured of course but per his offer Giovanni held it in place there until it could be hammered into place.]

Was the place you came from much like this?

What, in outer space? God no. [She almost laughs at the thought, though it's genuine amusement and nothing to do with his inquiries. Once her tools are slid over, Chloe slips in just in front of the tips of his shoes to start her work all over again, metal shaking hard from impact.] --Keep a firm grip on it, there you go-- no. My feet belong on earth. Preferably bare in warm, tropical sand.

There's no getting used to this place by comparison.

That does sound more pleasant.

[As long as the beach had no zombies. He was tired of zombies...]

But you seem so skilled with these repairs, you must at least be from a time where technology is more advanced?

[Please, no more zombies ever again.] Compared to your time, sure. Don't usually see people running about on horses unless it's for the sake of getting laid.

[He shook his head, not from disagreement but from the amusement her statement caused. ]

That is often the case in my time as well.

[Romance, at least, was one thing that remained constant through the ages. ]

Good to know some things never change. [All right, mate, stop making her laugh. This is just getting ridiculous. She does her best to drown out the sound of it with a few solid swings against steel.] I mean, aside from this world where there aren't any.

Then again this world hardly exists anymore. I don't think that really counts.

[Why drown out a sound so sorely lacking in this place? It was nice to hear laughter again after all the troubles they had been through.

Gradually the loose panel was molded into place until finally it was no longer nessacary to hold the piece in place. He stepped back and allowed her the final few hits that would ensure it stayed tight against the wall.]

There are basic things that remain constant no matter what else is going on at the time.

And war is always right at the top of the list. [She's not glancing his way when she says it, but it's fairly obvious that he's not planning on running off and that introductions ought to be a thing even if she is desperately in need of a good shower.] Chloe Frazer, by the way.

One day there will come a time when wars become one of those things we no longer have a use for.

[Even here, seeing a glimpse of the future as he was, he had hope that people would be able to change. ]

Giovanni Auditore da Firenze.

....[Wait. Wait just a moment. Chloe turns around on her heels, setting her back against the wall to get a good look at him-- at his clothes-- at the--] Auditore da Firenze.

As in Ezio Auditore da Firenze.

[Unmistakable pride tinged his smile as Chloe spoke that name. He nodded once in her direction in a silent indication she had made the correct assumption. ]

Ezio is my son, the second eldest. Were you a friend of his while he was here?

[This is so not how she expected to spend her morning. God damn it, Ezio. Totally blaming you for this.] You could say that, yeah. We ah-- [stole valuables] ran a few missions together this past year.

[Hopefully for a just cause.

Giovanni chuckled at her hesitation for he was very well acquainted with his son.]

I can only imagine what that must have been like.
I am glad he found some strong allies. It does make it better if you have some one to rely on.

As does everything. [She shoots a glance off at the wall behind her to prove her point before shifting back onto her feet for the sake of dusting off.] Thanks, by the way. Not the most exciting job on the base, but it helps.

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I'm crying Giovanni pls

He was a bit of a rouge in his youth, he knows about these things

Chloe couldn't be more proud of his younger self

He remembers those days fondly as well

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