ArchivedLogs:Vignette - Fierce: Difference between revisions
(Created page with "{{ Logs | cast = Steve | summary = "{We can all get tattoos...}" | gamedate = 2015-12-18 | gamedatename = 1942-12-18 | subtitle = | location = L'église Saint-Michel - Ro...") |
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| location = L'église Saint-Michel - Roussillon, France | | location = L'église Saint-Michel - Roussillon, France | ||
| categories = Citizens, Flashback, Humans, Steve, Vignette | | categories = Citizens, Flashback, Humans, Steve, Vignette | ||
| log = | | log = The venerable church has an unusually spacious vestry to accommodate the stone staircase leading down into its crypt. In the largely uncluttered center of the room, two men in dirty olive drab fatigues sit at a flimsy wooden table, each with his own pad of yellowing paper. They have moth-eaten wool blankets draped over their shoulders and across their laps against the damp cold that the tiny wood stove simply has not the power to keep at bay. | ||
The venerable church has an unusually spacious vestry to accommodate the stone staircase leading down into its crypt. In the largely uncluttered center of the room, two men in dirty olive drab fatigues sit at a flimsy wooden table, each with his own pad of yellowing paper. They have moth-eaten wool blankets draped over their shoulders and across their laps against the damp cold that the tiny wood stove simply has not the power to keep at bay. | |||
The larger of the two men is blond with blue eyes, his light skin all the paler for lack of sunlight, even when smudged with dirt and a five o'clock shadow. A round shield leans against his chair, marked at its center with a single white star circled in blue, red, and white. The smaller man has a thick black wool cap pulled low over his head, and though his dark brown skin also looks a little sickly, his eyes are keen and clear as he smiles at his handiwork. | The larger of the two men is blond with blue eyes, his light skin all the paler for lack of sunlight, even when smudged with dirt and a five o'clock shadow. A round shield leans against his chair, marked at its center with a single white star circled in blue, red, and white. The smaller man has a thick black wool cap pulled low over his head, and though his dark brown skin also looks a little sickly, his eyes are keen and clear as he smiles at his handiwork. | ||
Latest revision as of 23:54, 20 December 2015
| Vignette - Fierce | |
|---|---|
| Dramatis Personae | |
| In Absentia
|
1942-12-18 "{We can all get tattoos...}" |
| Location
L'église Saint-Michel - Roussillon, France | |
The venerable church has an unusually spacious vestry to accommodate the stone staircase leading down into its crypt. In the largely uncluttered center of the room, two men in dirty olive drab fatigues sit at a flimsy wooden table, each with his own pad of yellowing paper. They have moth-eaten wool blankets draped over their shoulders and across their laps against the damp cold that the tiny wood stove simply has not the power to keep at bay. The larger of the two men is blond with blue eyes, his light skin all the paler for lack of sunlight, even when smudged with dirt and a five o'clock shadow. A round shield leans against his chair, marked at its center with a single white star circled in blue, red, and white. The smaller man has a thick black wool cap pulled low over his head, and though his dark brown skin also looks a little sickly, his eyes are keen and clear as he smiles at his handiwork. Steve looks up at his companion when he smiles. "{Can I see?}" His French is awkward and halting, but not incomprehensible. "{Show me yours, first,}" Gabe insists, his French fluent and precise., grinning wider and hiding his sketch with one fingerless-gloved hand. Blushing slightly, Steve turns his pad around and holds it up. Drawn in light gray pencil strokes on the flimsy page is an elegant dark-haired young woman in an SSR uniform skirt suit. A faint whisp of smoke curls from the barrel of the pistol she's pointing at the viewer, and she wears a look of almost smug satisfaction. "{Oh-ho!}" Gabe laughs, covering his mouth to stifle to the noise. "{Wow, Agent Carter /really/ shot at you? We all thought Stark made that up, or at least exaggered a bit.}" "{Well. She shot at --}" Steve knocks on his shield, which emits only a faint tap. "{ -- this. But yes. Now...}" He beckons at Gabe's drawing. "{Yours.}" He removes his hand and turns the sketch pad around, showing off a dark gray wolf with feathered wings sprouting from its shoulders. It is crushing a thick chain its teeth, the other end pinned beneath one paw. "{Our squad needs a nickname and a mascot, you know.}" Steve's eyebrows raise up slightly, but he smiles all the same. "That is a fierce-looking mascot! The Winged Wolves? The Howlers?" Gabe nods enthusiastically. "{Maybe the Howling Demons! We can all get tattoos...}" "{Tattoo, maybe, but I'm not sure about /demons/...}" Steve holds up his hands, though he's laughing, too. "{Let's put it to a vote, when everyone is awake.}" | |
