Peggy Carter (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
mucked) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
entrancelogs2018-02-01 07:03 am
mucked) wrote in entrancelogs2018-02-01 07:03 am
open » i've got an atlas in my hands
Who: Peggy Carter + YOU
Where: Library, Rabbit Hole Diner, and other locations.
When: Early Feb
Rating: PG-13; will warn for changes in individual threads.
Summary: A catch-all for the first half of the month. There are some open prompts under the cut, but I'm also posting some closed starters in the comments. Hit me up if you'd like something other than the options below.
The Story:
[ DURING february's first few days, peggy pays a few productive visits to the »LIBRARY. she arrives armed with a scrap pressed into her palm. the paper is thin and torn, jagged, from a puzzle book -- folded in threes with precision and hard corners forced onto its asymmetrical shape. while she walks from stack to stack she traces the list's edge with the pad of her thumb. in reality, she doesn't need it. she'd long-since memorizes the book titles recommended to her in order to bring her loosely up to speed with popular science. so the list is a flimsy talisman, maybe, but during these visits it represents purpose. forward momentum.
her reading list is accumulated over multiple days, as though some reflexive defense mechanism convinces peggy to take her time. patience is rarely her strongest suit but she nevertheless makes an effort, knowing that a rush will only leave her rudderless and once again without distraction. to that end, she allows herself to wander off-path. maybe she's come for non-fiction, but she detours through a shelf of thrillers and mysteries and adventure stories.
she touches the spines as she passes them by -- her little list peeking between her knuckles like an ace at the ready. peggy never intends to appear lost but catch her at an odd moment and she might want some help. after all, stark never gave her author names to go with the titles.
LATER, with her coursework assembled, she goes elsewhere to conduct her reading. a great deal of it happens behind her bedroom door as she readjusts to a solitary life now that jane has returned to her husband. but some of it happens at the »DINER. with a whole booth claimed for herself, she sits with the dust jacket removed so bystanders can't easily discern what she's reading stephen hawking's a brief history of time, incidentally. it takes some two or three chapters to really dig into work she couldn't already recognize in passing -- and, on occasion, she offers up an audible scoff when she finds herself confronted with a colourful explanation of scientific discovery which nevertheless somehow manages to neglect howard stark's contribution.
she orders a plate of chips (hot; crispy; salted) and implores the wait-staff to keep them coming. instead of tea, she asks for a milkshake. not a quarter of an hour passes before she's cracked open a journal and uncapped a pen. her annotations are, for the time being, made in pitman shorthand -- and so appear as a series of near shapeless scribbles to those who aren't fluent. even so, there's no secrecy behind that choice. merely a swell of impatience after she'd worked so hard to contain it earlier.
and yet peggy's not averse to interruptions. not exactly. she may not be the most welcoming conversation partner, nor is she particularly fond of idle chatter, but she doesn't chase off interruptions or inquiries.
OTHERWISE, known associates and strangers alike are free to run into her »OUT & ABOUT. whether she's 'commuting' from quarters to library or grabbing a quick breakfast in the dining room early in the morning. she doesn't have a precise schedule (on most days) but she's not impossible to chance upon. she's nearly always immaculate -- from heel to hair-pins. having a project in hand puts her in a better mood. ]
Where: Library, Rabbit Hole Diner, and other locations.
When: Early Feb
Rating: PG-13; will warn for changes in individual threads.
Summary: A catch-all for the first half of the month. There are some open prompts under the cut, but I'm also posting some closed starters in the comments. Hit me up if you'd like something other than the options below.
The Story:
[ DURING february's first few days, peggy pays a few productive visits to the »LIBRARY. she arrives armed with a scrap pressed into her palm. the paper is thin and torn, jagged, from a puzzle book -- folded in threes with precision and hard corners forced onto its asymmetrical shape. while she walks from stack to stack she traces the list's edge with the pad of her thumb. in reality, she doesn't need it. she'd long-since memorizes the book titles recommended to her in order to bring her loosely up to speed with popular science. so the list is a flimsy talisman, maybe, but during these visits it represents purpose. forward momentum.
her reading list is accumulated over multiple days, as though some reflexive defense mechanism convinces peggy to take her time. patience is rarely her strongest suit but she nevertheless makes an effort, knowing that a rush will only leave her rudderless and once again without distraction. to that end, she allows herself to wander off-path. maybe she's come for non-fiction, but she detours through a shelf of thrillers and mysteries and adventure stories.
she touches the spines as she passes them by -- her little list peeking between her knuckles like an ace at the ready. peggy never intends to appear lost but catch her at an odd moment and she might want some help. after all, stark never gave her author names to go with the titles.
LATER, with her coursework assembled, she goes elsewhere to conduct her reading. a great deal of it happens behind her bedroom door as she readjusts to a solitary life now that jane has returned to her husband. but some of it happens at the »DINER. with a whole booth claimed for herself, she sits with the dust jacket removed so bystanders can't easily discern what she's reading stephen hawking's a brief history of time, incidentally. it takes some two or three chapters to really dig into work she couldn't already recognize in passing -- and, on occasion, she offers up an audible scoff when she finds herself confronted with a colourful explanation of scientific discovery which nevertheless somehow manages to neglect howard stark's contribution.
she orders a plate of chips (hot; crispy; salted) and implores the wait-staff to keep them coming. instead of tea, she asks for a milkshake. not a quarter of an hour passes before she's cracked open a journal and uncapped a pen. her annotations are, for the time being, made in pitman shorthand -- and so appear as a series of near shapeless scribbles to those who aren't fluent. even so, there's no secrecy behind that choice. merely a swell of impatience after she'd worked so hard to contain it earlier.
and yet peggy's not averse to interruptions. not exactly. she may not be the most welcoming conversation partner, nor is she particularly fond of idle chatter, but she doesn't chase off interruptions or inquiries.
OTHERWISE, known associates and strangers alike are free to run into her »OUT & ABOUT. whether she's 'commuting' from quarters to library or grabbing a quick breakfast in the dining room early in the morning. she doesn't have a precise schedule (on most days) but she's not impossible to chance upon. she's nearly always immaculate -- from heel to hair-pins. having a project in hand puts her in a better mood. ]
no subject
Do you have the list available? I'm probably at least tangentially familiar with most of them.
[What's the use of having a pocket nerd if you can't get homework help?]
no subject
Here. [ she slips a scrap of paper from where it's been wedged between her skirt and her belt. unfolding it, peggy offers it to fitz. ] Like I said. All titles, no names.
[ the list is as follows:
a brief history of time,
cosmos,
in pursuit of the unknown: 17 equations that changed the world,
the particle at the end of the universe,
turning's cathedral,
and fifty shades of grey.
one of these things is not like the others and we've got tony stark to blame. ]
no subject
Steven Hawking, Carl Sagan, Ian Stewart, Sean Carroll -- brilliant cosmologist, he is. Then there's George Dyson, and.
[And then he stops and looks away as if the list has suddenly become offensive.]
You'll not get anything useful from the last one.
no subject
[ it's not a question, per se. more like a none-too-subtle display of disappointment. as she'd understood it, from tony, that particular title represents something ground-breaking. admittedly, the title made it sound a little esoteric for her tastes but then tony assured her it was a worthy piece -- added to the canon by a woman -- and peggy's interest piqued. ]
Is there something wrong with the last one, Fitz?
no subject
Someone's trying to take the piss, most likely. [ he bristles. ] That book is ruddy filth.
no subject
[ suggesting, bristling in her own right, that perhaps she'd expected better than snobbish elitism from this scientist. what a disappointment! ]
no subject
I hadn't realized you were so passionate about smut.
1/2
[ again, it's more statement than question. for a split second it appears as though peggy isn't so much as understanding what fitz is telling her. the meaning barely register. ]
It's not like...
[ but she trails off, hot in the face. she is woefully unaccustomed to feeling embarrassed. ]
no subject
[ embarrassment turns quickly into anger. peggy's temper, never all that far away, flares straight into a full fire as she snatches back the list and crumples it in her hand. ]
I'm going to drag him out by his ear and skin him alive.
no subject
It's... Not shameful if you enjoy reading those things. I think Jemma might fancy that sort of romance every now and again. When she thinks I'm not paying attention.
[ The joke's on her, though. He's always paying attention. ]
no subject
I'm not ashamed. [ she answers -- quickly, and as though her ire might turn on fitz simply for suggesting so. the huff hasn't left her voice. ] Infuriated, maybe. Disappointed, definitely. [ ... ] It's no way to treat an auntie.
[ raw, a little confessional. it doesn't immediately occur to her to clarify the kind of adoptive familial approach she's taken with tony stark. ]
no subject
I'm sorry...! [ for what? It doesn't matter. ]
I...
I'm sorry, did you say auntie?
no subject
It's what he calls me. His aunt. [ she plays it off like it's no big thing, like it hasn't haunted her thoughts. ] He grew up knowing me.
[ outside of the history books. ]
no subject
I. See.
[ is it okay to even say that? There are no options. This is just going to keep spiralling, isn't it? ]
no subject
a little immature: ] I think I preferred us talking about romance novels, actually.
[ which isn't exactly an invitation to regress to that topic. merely a kind of symptomatic outburst. peggy doesn't do well with all this sentimental chatter. at least, not when it involves her sentimentality. ]