[ she sounds even more comfortably smug in russian. whenever they slip into their mother tongue, it's like casually reaching for a tool which always sits close to hand. natasha's american accent comes more easily to her than yelena's does — more time spent in the west — but while they're out here stateside, yelena tugs on that mask, too, until she sounds like a local native. it takes some conscious effort to tamp down her obviously eastern european accent and round out her vowels, softening them into the blandly neutral and unremarkable voice of a tv newscaster. they were always taught it's better for going undercover; no trucking with a distinctive southern or boston twang which might get them noticed.
she turns her attention to the rides, considering. ]
Roller coaster, [ she pronounces firmly, her head tilting backwards to eye the somewhat-rickety structure. considering the safety statistics on these small parks, hell, maybe it'll be exciting after all. she lobs her drink into the bin and then sets off into the park interior with her sister by her side, the pair of them weaving effortlessly through the crowd.
roasted nuts, hot dogs, cotton candy. she can smell all of it, a rich tapestry around them. she unconsciously speeds up a little, her short legs scurrying as they duck into the rollercoaster line beside a busy, harried family. yelena flashes them a radiant smile; her attention sliding to a darkhaired little girl who's cowering behind her father's knees and averting her face from the ride. ]
Are you afraid? Don't be. These are fun.
[ a roll of her shoulder, indicating the ride above them, where it rumbles and clanks ]
[ it's an interesting parallel with their accents. natasha remembers the early days of their assignment in ohio, struggling with the pronunciation and accent while yelena had picked it up remarkably quickly, probably due to her having been so young when she'd been brought in. natasha had been young, too, but she'd already had years of training when they'd started. ]
You got it. [ it looms a short distance way, a pretty impressive structure even though she can hear the rattle as the cart goes whooshing over the tracks. they make their way through the crowd until they reach the line, natasha trailing shortly behind her (yelena's legs may be short, but she's still got an inch on natasha) and slip into it behind a family with two parents and a cluster of children, one of them a small girl ducking behind her father that draws yelena's attention.
natasha smiles as she talks to the girl, who looks nervously up at the tracks as another cart full of riders zooms by, their shrieks of delight piercing her eardrums. ]
It's only scary for a minute. But then you feel like you're flying.
And it's even safer than flying. You'll be strapped in the whole time.
[ yelena shoots nat a knowing smirk, at that faint comparison to their skydiving. she'd fully expected to die, plummeting off that airborne facility. but her sister had come to her rescue, with a reckless daredevil improbable leap of faith. saved her life. ]
And besides, you've got your dad with you. You can hang onto his hand the whole time and squash his fingers.
[ the little girl exhales, looks up at the two women with a mumbled "okay, i guess," but now she's at least looking towards the front of the line rather than like she's considering running away. the father nods gratefully at them, and yelena feels her heart twist sharply in her chest at the innocuousness of this whole interaction. this little american girl will never know what it's like to have her childhood ripped away from her, her family obliterated, and to be forced into brutal training.
—yelena had almost never minded the training itself, though. it had been losing her family which had hurt worse; the wound that left her walking with a gaping absence inside her where they'd once been.
she shakes it off. shuffles a little further ahead in the line and turns her attention back to nat. ]
Do you have any favourites at this kind of place? [ still, to this day, trying to learn more about her sister and the woman she'd become. ] Like, of the games, or rides.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
italics it is
[ she sounds even more comfortably smug in russian. whenever they slip into their mother tongue, it's like casually reaching for a tool which always sits close to hand. natasha's american accent comes more easily to her than yelena's does — more time spent in the west — but while they're out here stateside, yelena tugs on that mask, too, until she sounds like a local native. it takes some conscious effort to tamp down her obviously eastern european accent and round out her vowels, softening them into the blandly neutral and unremarkable voice of a tv newscaster. they were always taught it's better for going undercover; no trucking with a distinctive southern or boston twang which might get them noticed.
she turns her attention to the rides, considering. ]
Roller coaster, [ she pronounces firmly, her head tilting backwards to eye the somewhat-rickety structure. considering the safety statistics on these small parks, hell, maybe it'll be exciting after all. she lobs her drink into the bin and then sets off into the park interior with her sister by her side, the pair of them weaving effortlessly through the crowd.
roasted nuts, hot dogs, cotton candy. she can smell all of it, a rich tapestry around them. she unconsciously speeds up a little, her short legs scurrying as they duck into the rollercoaster line beside a busy, harried family. yelena flashes them a radiant smile; her attention sliding to a darkhaired little girl who's cowering behind her father's knees and averting her face from the ride. ]
Are you afraid? Don't be. These are fun.
[ a roll of her shoulder, indicating the ride above them, where it rumbles and clanks ]
🖤
You got it. [ it looms a short distance way, a pretty impressive structure even though she can hear the rattle as the cart goes whooshing over the tracks. they make their way through the crowd until they reach the line, natasha trailing shortly behind her (yelena's legs may be short, but she's still got an inch on natasha) and slip into it behind a family with two parents and a cluster of children, one of them a small girl ducking behind her father that draws yelena's attention.
natasha smiles as she talks to the girl, who looks nervously up at the tracks as another cart full of riders zooms by, their shrieks of delight piercing her eardrums. ]
It's only scary for a minute. But then you feel like you're flying.
no subject
[ yelena shoots nat a knowing smirk, at that faint comparison to their skydiving. she'd fully expected to die, plummeting off that airborne facility. but her sister had come to her rescue, with a reckless daredevil improbable leap of faith. saved her life. ]
And besides, you've got your dad with you. You can hang onto his hand the whole time and squash his fingers.
[ the little girl exhales, looks up at the two women with a mumbled "okay, i guess," but now she's at least looking towards the front of the line rather than like she's considering running away. the father nods gratefully at them, and yelena feels her heart twist sharply in her chest at the innocuousness of this whole interaction. this little american girl will never know what it's like to have her childhood ripped away from her, her family obliterated, and to be forced into brutal training.
—yelena had almost never minded the training itself, though. it had been losing her family which had hurt worse; the wound that left her walking with a gaping absence inside her where they'd once been.
she shakes it off. shuffles a little further ahead in the line and turns her attention back to nat. ]
Do you have any favourites at this kind of place? [ still, to this day, trying to learn more about her sister and the woman she'd become. ] Like, of the games, or rides.