rightfootforward | File #001 audio;

[She's been in Luceti for a day now. A day was more than enough time for the wings to stop hurting, the shock to wear off, and for her to find her old uniform and dress a little less like a girl on her way to primary school in the summer. A day was long enough to learn that this place wasn't entirely hostile and that it was extensive, reaching from the beach to the mountains and out until she hit an invisible wall that seemed to cut her off from whatever lay beyond it.

A day was also long enough to realize she was stuck and that the book was a method of communicating with others. People seemed to talk freely over it and she wasn't the only one arriving either. Captain Nathan Spencer, Peter Parker, Eugene, Sue Richards, Noel Vermillion - names that meant nothing to her, but it indicated that people came and went here according to someone else's agenda.

It hadn't taken her long to find the Guide, either, and after skimming through it, she felt a bit more...well, level was probably the best way to describe it. She's taken to hiding out in the woods for now, waiting to assess the situation before she moved into town. Now there was just one problem that remained: revealing herself to the enclosure and to possibly hostile elements. ]

As I'm not the only person to recently arrive to this place and I'm sure you are all quite tired of repeating the same welcome speeches, let me introduce myself and be brief about it.

Agent Carter, British Royal Military.

Any information not to be found in the guide already so helpfully provided would be appreciated.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Not unlike anything else, to be fair.

Nothing to apologise for, Major. It isn't as if you were the one pulling the lever to bring me here.

You have my sympathy all the same.

Much appreciated. [She almost laughs. Almost.]

Tell me, Major. Is there anywhere one might procure weapons here? Firearms, to be exact.

There's a little shop for weapons. Shop's a bit of a misnomer -- more like a bullock train or a supply depot, for you shan't pay a penny for what they got. And they got all kinds. Blades to guns and more.

There's the smithy, as well. Though I ain't certain how fond they are of making firearms. Careful with what you pick up -- ammunition's scarce. It turns out that older models do better, for their cartridges are easier to make on your own.

A smithy and a depot, but no ammunitions. [sigh. seriously, captors, help a girl out here]

By older models, you refer to?

Those what take cartridge shot -- ball and powder wrapped in paper? [ he tests the water. even soldiers fewer than fifty years ahead of him had moved on to other bullets. ]

I roll my own. Got a pretty little stockpile.

[Goodness, but that's a long time ago. Not so great for accuracy either, but certainly good in a pinch when it comes to getting ammunition. She thinks for a moment.]

Ah. I'm afraid I'm not quite as familiar with those types. I'm more of a Walther PPK person myself.

Well -- ma'am -- if you ever need a dab hand to guide you 'round a flintlock...

[ jesus. not even sharpe knows whether he's hitting on the intelligence officer or not. ]

So long as it's only about the flintlock, certainly.

[ is that a chuckle? that might be a chuckle. ]

A'course, Agent Carter. All above board. Rifleman's honour. [ whatever that's worth. ]

Then I would be honoured to learn from the 95th. Perhaps I can help you with the more modern types, should you be interested?

...Aye, that'd do very well. Can't say I'm not curious.

[ ... ] But I suppose I should let you get settled, first. The first few days are queer ones.

It does seem to be so far. I've yet to find permanent lodgings, but it seems most of the flats are open.

Your choice depends mostly on whether you care to be close to town or not.

Can't quite say it's like being in the city or country, but I suppose considering that wall around this place, it's the closest we shall get, hm?

I've billeted in a few towns in Northern Spain what've been similar. But it ain't quite the same, you're right.

Quaint, though. And half-ways peaceful. Most of the time.

[ at least in comparison to the peninsular war. ]

Good to hear. A bit of peace might be nice, even if it's only on the surface.

[ oh. ]

Midst of a war in the far-flung future as well, eh?

Are we ever not at war, Major Sharpe? It seems lately that peace is the far rarer commodity.

...But it ain't with the French, aye?

[ because someone had told him that war had been finished. won, even. bloody wellesley. ]

No, surprisingly, we get along-- [..."rather well" isn't exactly the right term.] --far better than before. Even allied with them in the most recent one to end.

So I keep being told and so it keep astonishing me, ma'am.

I suppose considering our gap there may be a good number of things to be surprised about. Green stays in fashion for one, in a way.

Good. [ a simple, hard word. yorkshire-wrapped. ] The red was bloody daft, if you'll pardon the language. Ma'am.

Actually, I couldn't agree more. It's been updated to a much more intelligent colour.

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