Peggy Carter (
mucked) wrote in
entrancelogs2018-02-01 07:03 am
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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
[ ... ]
You're more than welcome to join me.
[ more so than she already has, at least. there's no harm in it. peggy's hobby is no secret, nor is the gun she'll be using. she has enough secrets, after all, and some of things are better known than unknown. ]
no subject
[It's an out. A way of letting Peggy be polite and still walk the invitation back if she'd prefer.
A funny thing. Natasha might be an Avenger and a spy, but in some ways she still has the old habits when it comes to avoiding confrontations. Feral cat survival instincts masquerading as bravado.
Natasha recognizes the slip as it comes out of her mouth, but doesn't wince.]
I'm game if you are.
no subject
[ she means it when she says it. peggy might like to play rough and win more often than not, but she's not invested in dragging someone else down just to feel better about herself. an outlined and orchestrated competition is one thing; a friendly visit, together, is quite another.
but while they walk she unholsters a pretty little ppk with certain embellishments. beyond the metalwork, the spot where its clip should be housed instead glows a warm red. the gun's guts have been replaced with something a bit more futuristic. ]
Besides -- I'm not looking to compete while I'm still coming to terms with a gun that shoots blasts of light instead of bullets.
[ that's not quite true. peggy's gotten quite good with it already. but if fudging the truth helps dispel some of that 'feral cat survival instinct,' then she's happy to pretend. ]
no subject
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so, with a bit of a smile, she offers: ]
As many as you like, I suppose. [ ... ] Only I can't promise I'll tell you when or if you guess right.
no subject
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[ she's not trying to pitch expectations low -- to be honest, peggy is mostly enjoying articulating thoughts she hasn't had the opportunity to share out loud before this moment. ]
And the same can be said for there being no bullet drop.
no subject
[All important details in their line of work.]
But it doesn't feel the same, does it?
no subject
[ and maybe there's a part of her that yearns, now and again, for something more traditional in her grip. but she isn't quite so backward that she can't appreciate progress for what it is. after all, progress is something she'd already been craving back home.
and it was never her way to turn her nose up at a good gadget. ]
But it's rather convenient to not worry about carrying magazines alongside. Especially given how some of Wonderland's events unfold.
[ they round the path to the firing range and peggy -- judging the moment -- holds the weapon out for natasha to try first. after all, peggy's had ample practice. ]
no subject
That's one way to show it off.
[And one way for Natasha to show off as well. If she choose too.
She takes an extra moment to sight before firing.]
Yeah, would have been nice to have ne of these in the tower.
no subject
Precisely. Do I miss what's conventional? Of course I do. But that bugger will be useful long after a conventional clip would have been emptied.
no subject
[Because he's Tony, and he would. She fires off a couple more rounds showing off the same steady aim—he lack of kick back helps—before she passes the piece back.]
Remind me to show the widow's bites sometime.
no subject
[ a glimmer of humour dances behind her eyes before she reclaims her gun and gives it a fond little once-over. peggy is no rush to step up to the firing lane herself, however. ]
-- What are the widow's bites?
[ colourful name. ]
no subject
[Not one Natasha actually uses for them often, either.]
I'm sure you know how specialized equipment is.
no subject
[ widow's bite, widow's bite, widow's bite-- ]
Poison? A delivery system, perhaps, for a neurotoxin. [ no. that's a bit too noir novel, isn't it? her eyes narrow as she considers some of the specs she's seen littering tony stark's workshop. something unconventional but advanced.
aha. ]
Wait. Electricity?
no subject
[Depending on how you follow up with them.]
Not that I haven't had my experience with poison.
no subject
ultimately, it's less about principles and more about versatility. the uses one gets out of nonlethal options...
well. her thoughts wander. she draws her attention back to natasha. ]
The SSR have managed a gun that fires an electrified net. But I suspect your Widow's Bites are a bit more elegant than that.
no subject
That's not without its uses either. [She arches an eyebrow though.] Probably not as easy to hide up your sleeve though.
no subject
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[Father and son have a lot in common, but not everything.]
I'm sure he put his own spin on things.
no subject
[ but howard -- howard knows his audience, so to speak. ]
no subject
It's almost too bad. No one has time for seduction and drugged lipstick anymore.
no subject
[ she's not above a bit of seduction in the line of duty. it's almost predictably easy, sometimes. all sugar and coy smiles and barely-veiled intention. is it any surprise, then, that she should take a different approach in her authentic personal life? ]
no subject
Not until it's too late, anyway.
[The other way tends to leave more bodies.]
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There was a lot more of that sort of thing during the war. [ her breath puffs in her cheeks. ] These days, I try and avoid it. I'd rather not be the agent the lads only bother to put in the field when someone's...ego needs a stroke.
[ AHEM. ]
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