Ricki Tarr (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
rickitikitarr) wrote2015-03-08 10:47 am
rickitikitarr) wrote2015-03-08 10:47 am
1. video
[Ricki Tarr, latest inmate arrival, is still getting his feet under him. He's been on board for a little while now, but let's face it, he's a field agent from the 1970s, getting used to graphical user interfaces of his messenger has put up a bit of a roadblock in terms of his making contact.
By the time he's confident enough with the flimsy, cheeping little device to make a video post, his stomach is growling, so the very first message is a simple video shot.
It's poorly framed, he has no real idea of how to centre himself in the lens, and the light in his room is dark and low and terrible for any sort of filming. But from the dark, what's visible of his half-in-the-frame expression is still and steady;]
The first living creature to orbit the earth was a little Russian mongrel named Laika. She was a pretty thing, with a clever cast to her eyes and pricked up, pointed ears. On the fourtieth anniversary of the Bolshevik revolution they flung the little thing into the sky.
In fact, the Russians had been launching dogs into suborbital flights for a few years before, but none attained the notoriety or captured the imaginations of the world like little Laika. I was rather young when she was sent to space, but recall thinking the entire proceedings terribly inhumane.
The Soviets say that she was euthanized before her oxygen ran out. The British and Americans question whether that is true. The Russians question whether that questioning is deliberately spread propaganda meant to make them seem monstrous. In the time since, I think both sides have lost track of the original truth of the matter. But the question of her ultimate cause of death aside, I wondered whether she might be hungry, thirsty or afraid, uncomprehending of how it was possible to see stars all around her... I actually can't recall reading whether Sputnik 2 was like this ship, with windows or not. Laika may not have seen stars spinning in the sky, but I'm sure the sounds and sudden lack of gravity must have been rather frightening for such a little dog.
[His voice is low and steady, the pictures his paints are matter-of-fact and vivid. He accent is an odd, old one, London tempered by a childhood racing through Penang streets and other colonial holds. He takes his time with the story before concluding;]
Which is all to say, given the apparent flexibility of space and time on this vessel, if we see her while we're out here, I must simply insist that we make a stop.
By the time he's confident enough with the flimsy, cheeping little device to make a video post, his stomach is growling, so the very first message is a simple video shot.
It's poorly framed, he has no real idea of how to centre himself in the lens, and the light in his room is dark and low and terrible for any sort of filming. But from the dark, what's visible of his half-in-the-frame expression is still and steady;]
The first living creature to orbit the earth was a little Russian mongrel named Laika. She was a pretty thing, with a clever cast to her eyes and pricked up, pointed ears. On the fourtieth anniversary of the Bolshevik revolution they flung the little thing into the sky.
In fact, the Russians had been launching dogs into suborbital flights for a few years before, but none attained the notoriety or captured the imaginations of the world like little Laika. I was rather young when she was sent to space, but recall thinking the entire proceedings terribly inhumane.
The Soviets say that she was euthanized before her oxygen ran out. The British and Americans question whether that is true. The Russians question whether that questioning is deliberately spread propaganda meant to make them seem monstrous. In the time since, I think both sides have lost track of the original truth of the matter. But the question of her ultimate cause of death aside, I wondered whether she might be hungry, thirsty or afraid, uncomprehending of how it was possible to see stars all around her... I actually can't recall reading whether Sputnik 2 was like this ship, with windows or not. Laika may not have seen stars spinning in the sky, but I'm sure the sounds and sudden lack of gravity must have been rather frightening for such a little dog.
[His voice is low and steady, the pictures his paints are matter-of-fact and vivid. He accent is an odd, old one, London tempered by a childhood racing through Penang streets and other colonial holds. He takes his time with the story before concluding;]
Which is all to say, given the apparent flexibility of space and time on this vessel, if we see her while we're out here, I must simply insist that we make a stop.
no subject
It happens.
[It has happened to Cain, for one, so he's not going to make a big deal of it. That said, he doesn't want Ricki to slink away until he's sure the kid's feeling stable.]
You any good at throwing knives?
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[Is how he measures it.]
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Feel like learning something new?
[It's not something he uses often in practice either, but it's come in handy when he's had nothing else.]
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[Calming down, steadily.]
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[he retrieves his knife, and finds one of the sturdy black flat weights that normally attaches to the bar at the weight bench. The hole in the center is small, but big enough for the blade. He finds a place to prop it up and turns to Ricki]
Yeah, so at port you're probably not gonna have those nice, balanced throwing knives like I learned on. So we'll work with one like this instead. I'm a fan of practicality, I'd bet my left ear you are too. Here, take it.
no subject
How would you throw it?
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[He stands beside him, and demonstrates sans-knife]
Move your left foot about...three and a quarter inches back. Keep your weight centered. Grab the knife here instead of the very tip.
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[The target is very small, but the blade nicks it and bounces off the sides of the hole.]
Well, if that'd been a person you'd have had 'em between the eyes. Close enough, anyway. Try it again; then try it again from a crouch.
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[He wonders, padding over to retrieve the blade.]
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You were the side of the blade--closer to the tip. Would've cut an eye or sliced skin right open, wouldn't have stuck in. Not bad, actually.
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[And then he does- the flat of the blade this time, but enough to do serious damage again and right in the face. He has a knack for stuff like this, isn't perfect or even close, but still. Competent.]
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[Competent, quick learners are something Cain can work with. Bruce Wayne had been like this once, though with less charm and more blatant anger than Ricki shows.
He keeps Ricki at it, from different angles, from disadvantages, in different lighting.]
no subject
That's all I have.