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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. ]

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[ 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.

Some of the old tricks still work. If we knew whose office to bug, that might actually go somewhere. Get the right sources...

[Natasha shakes her head. That was the real spy work, the things her trainers had perfected during the Cold War.]

No quick answers, just biding your time and pumping information. But that's a long con.

And the longer it goes, the higher the death count rises.

[ it's tough: that balance between waiting for the right moment and feeling as though the right moment was always three minutes earlier. ]

Could say that was the case in the Cold War too.

[You could say it because it was true. People kept holding patterns for months, sometimes years, bleeding each other for information while people died.]

Not that it makes it any better.

And at the same time people come and go, so you have no idea which allies and resources you'll still have when the other shoe drops.

-- What a thing to look forward to.

[ she answers with a scowl. not for natasha, of course, but for the barrel of the future. during the war, things changed so quickly. networks rose and fell within months of each other -- there was no time to spare waiting and watching. not like there apparently will be. ]

It's staring, of course. That aforementioned chap at the war department recently tried to frame a civilian scientist as a Soviet spy. Posthumously, I might add. Dirty stuff.

I'm sure it's been going for a while already. Things like that don't just appear overnight. There's years of preparing, building up behind the scenes.

[More of the same that way. Natasha shrugs it off. It's in the past, for her, and for Peggy... it didn't seem fair to tell her too much about the future before. It still doesn't.]

Don't think we'll run into anything quite like that. No doubt the folks behind this are in for a long con, but... It doesn't feel that subtle.

It could happen with our mirrors. [ peggy points out, a little dourly. ] Seems awful easy to frame a person for something when you've got their doppelganger in hand. Just another pitfall we've got to watch for.

I've seen a couple of them trying to pass as the real thing. That said, harder to make a frame job stick if everyone knows there's someone else running around with ever face.

Which isn't even touching on the way the real versions of any of us could be compromised.

[They have plenty to watch out for.]

Of course, they don't have to make it stick to undermine the trust.

Mmhm. [ she offers up a thin hum of agreement. ] Injecting this side's population with a bit of doubt has likely always been part of their modus operandi. Something I experienced on my very first day here, where a mirror version of someone -- someone from back home? He came through and got his hands on his counterpart's device.

It was some time before I learned the difference in hindsight.

Anyone I know? [If it was someone from back home, it seems likely. Not necessarily confirmed, but... likely.] I've run into a little of that. So far, none I identified in hindsight, but I can't rule out the possibility.

Harder to say with people you don't know.

[ something hardens in her expression. it isn't resentment, exactly, but a kind of uncomfortable confusion over the whole affair. ]

It was Barnes. [ she knows enough to know the woman can recognize the name. ] But as I knew him -- during the war. Considering I hadn't yet learned what had happened to him afterwards, he seemed very much as his real self should be.

[Natasha isn't the most sympathetic person. Whatever can be said of her, she's rarely been called warm. However, there is an understanding in her expression.]

Worst case scenario. It would be complicated enough catching up there even without doppelgangers running around complicating things.

Yes. [ she concedes. ] It was a month before I met the real fellow -- monosyllabic and metal-armed. No one had seen fit to warn me.

[ and it's not that she felt she needed warning but -- look, if the unspeakable had happened to one of your brothers-in-arms...? it might have been nice to have a bit of a heads up. ]

[Oh, there are reasons to want a warning on something like that. More than one reason. Natasha's not bitter, but she's well aware of how dangerous Barnes could be.]

Seems scattershot, how people get information around here. Especially information from home.

Like any interrogation, [ peg half-smiles, ] I imagine most of the work is in knowing which questions to ask.

[ and there's a reason why she doesn't ask too many of natasha. she's not an easy mark the way some of the others have proven themselves to be. ]

And what questions not to ask. [Because they tip your hand, or because they alienate people.]

Though I'd like to say the rules are different when you have allies.

[Meaning someone in the know should have clued her in on Barnes.]

[ a devilish sort of smirk. acknowledgement, maybe, of the subtext. peggy nods. ]

I should hope so.

[ but alas. allies had other concerns, it seems, then warning peggy carter of the cliff she'd nearly wandered over.

peg leans back and holsters her gun. ]

Equally, I'd like to consider you one.

An ally, you mean? [It's not a real clarification. Natasha knows that's exactly what Peggy means. But there are other reasons to have this conversation.]

Seems fair. I'd say we both need those. I know I do.

Is that so?

Charismatic creature like yourself, I would have thought you'd be making friends.

[ is she teasing? ]

Hard to be friends with someone when they don't know who you really are.

[Steve had told her something like that once, and Natasha says it with good humor now.]

But considering what we're up against, it's not exactly friends I'm looking for.

Edited 2018-04-09 01:05 (UTC)

Hard, but not impossible. [ peggy crosses her arms comfortably. ] Although, admittedly, I'm not much of one for friendships either.

[ she has her exceptions all the same... ]

Allies, then. I can settle for allies. [ a slight narrowing of her eyes. ] Even if your surname alone would see me brought in for questioning simply by association.

It might back home. Here... well, there's no Communist Party to speak of. So that's a plus.

[Wry. Very, very wry.]

Not that we can't be friends, too. If things go that way. That said, I can promise to make being an ally worth your while. Friendship... no guarantees.

To be honest, I've found my own friendship comes with a similar lack of guarantees. [ so many end up dead. but that's not something she needs to worry about half as much, here, with so many competent people around.

still. doesn't make friendship any easier. ]

As for being allies! I should hope that what's worthwhile might go both ways. I might be a bit antiquated, but I promise I'm not dusty.

Carter, if you were dusty, we wouldn't be having this conversation.

[ -- a huff of breath. laughter. she turns, then, as if to head back to the mansion. ]

Good to know. [ peg gives her head a nod. ] And I'm glad to also know who I might call on in a pinch.

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outstandingbalance - 2018-04-12 05:01 (UTC) - Expand

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