open » i've got an atlas in my hands

[mucked]

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. ]

Comments

[mucked]

The lack of any real recoil has required some adaptation.

[ 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.

[outstandingbalance]

That does take some getting used to. Neater. Quieter. Less evidence.

[All important details in their line of work.]

But it doesn't feel the same, does it?

[mucked]

-- Not at all.

[ 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. ]

[outstandingbalance]

[The look Natasha returns says clearly, me? Brow cocked just a little before she takes the weapon. She holds it in her hands, turning over in a quick inspection.]

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.

[mucked]

[ peggy leans back -- and she observes. interested, invested, but ultimately not looking to weigh or judge or pass verdict. she expects natasha to be good. great, really. ]

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.

[outstandingbalance]

Did you ask for it, or did Tony just start upgrading your things without your permission?

[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.

[mucked]

I think we both know that if this was Stark tech it would be considerably more ostentatious. And probably larger.

[ 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. ]

[outstandingbalance]

One of many toys. I'd say even less conventional than that. At least at the moment.

[Not one Natasha actually uses for them often, either.]

I'm sure you know how specialized equipment is.

[mucked]

I'm beginning to suspect that niche weaponry is something of a trend come the 21st century.

[ 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?

[outstandingbalance]

Electricity. Those, and the stings. Different systems, both effective. Non lethal, usually.

[Depending on how you follow up with them.]

Not that I haven't had my experience with poison.

[mucked]

[ -- nonlethal! peggy's not surprised, really, but she is interested. given the adjustable setting on her gun as well, it seems that allowing for stuns rather than kills might be something of a paradigm shift. one she approves of, even if she's no stranger to staying lethal.

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.

[outstandingbalance]

[There are times when you want to keep a target alive. And they're only as nonlethal as the follow up.]

That's not without its uses either. [She arches an eyebrow though.] Probably not as easy to hide up your sleeve though.

[mucked]

Heavens, no. Thrillingly effective -- but not all that subtle. [ ... ] Perhaps it smacks of favouritism, but I do miss the days when Howard Stark was working on our R&D. These days, he's more interested in his film sets.

[outstandingbalance]

Yeah? What kind of things did he come up with?

[Father and son have a lot in common, but not everything.]

I'm sure he put his own spin on things.

[mucked]

There was always a bit of dramatic flair. Knock-out lipstick, a pretty little watch face which could double as a safe-cracker, a heated garrote that could be hidden in a belt. The sort of stuff the fellows at the SSR never really thought of considering they rarely kitted out female agents.

[ but howard -- howard knows his audience, so to speak. ]

[outstandingbalance]

A heated garrote, hm? Sounds like a fun trick. [Natasha has a soft spot for a good garrote, insofar as one can have a soft spot for clandestine murder weapons.]

It's almost too bad. No one has time for seduction and drugged lipstick anymore.

[mucked]

Not my favourite kind of work but -- [ she exhales, stepping up to the firing lane ] -- I'll be damned if it doesn't get the job done, sometimes.

[ 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? ]

[outstandingbalance]

I wouldn't say I enjoy it exactly, but there's something to be said for it. Tends to leave fewer bodies. If you do it right, people don't even know they've been had.

Not until it's too late, anyway.

[The other way tends to leave more bodies.]

[mucked]

[ a hum of agreement. peg checks the firing mechanism before she lines up a shot. ]

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. ]

[outstandingbalance]

It's never them who has to be the honeypot, is it?

[Natasha knows that feeling. And while she enjoys he discretion that comes with that sort of play, but the ego stroking part... not Natasha's favorite.]

Still, beats pulling out toenails.

[That's probably a joke.

Maybe a joke?]

[mucked]

[ she breathes out and fires. a zip of red traces across the field before scorching a target in the distance. comfortably on mark. yes, she's had some practice.

peg turns back. ]

Depends on whose toenails, I imagine.

[ look, so long as they're staying in the realm of unclear jokes. ]

[outstandingbalance]

There's not someone who's toenails you have in mind, is there?

[She keeps it light, still joking. There's no real pressure to answer—but it opens the opportunity for more conversation if Peggy wants to go there.

Who better to complain about the men in the office than someone from seventy years or so in the future?]

[mucked]

There's a particularly ruthless bastard at the War Department who could use a taste of his own medicine.

[ a torturer in his own right. now, if it came down to it, peggy's unlikely to inflict that kind of persuasion -- her means are blunter, less patient. but make no mistake: vernon masters is a rotten apple. ]

[outstandingbalance]

Those are usually the ones you end up feeling like deserve it most.

[Natasha could come up with a few names like that, though she wouldn't name them here. Or anywhere.

But the understanding is there.]

Neither skillset looks like it'll be relevant here though. Wonderland seems to keep things straightforward that way.

Not that it doesn't have secrets, but...

[She spreads her hands.]

[mucked]

[ a hum of agreement. ]

But I doubt peeling off the baseboards and the crown molding will get us any sort of answers. [ she leans against the firing lane's divider. ]

It's about scrounging the details, here. Waiting for them and collecting them and piecing them together as you can. There'll be no milking it.