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

[spiritofgoodness]

[ Snow glances over, back at her bow, then back at the woman in the booth. ]

No, not if you know how to handle it, I suppose. When I walk, I carry it across my back, and it's very light.

[ Of course, it isn't her exact bow from home, but its as close as she could get. ]

Would you like to hold it and see for yourself?

[mucked]

I'm not certain here is quite the right venue for that kind of thing.

[ the last thing she needs is someone misunderstanding why a weapon is in her hands -- or perhaps that's peggy's brain too quickly and too easily equating it to waving around a pistol. ]

-- Is it a hobby of yours?

[ compared to, say, an intended weapon. ]

[spiritofgoodness]

A hobby? Oh, no. Not at all. I had to learn to try and protect the people in my kingdom. Guns don't exist where I'm from and I don't have magic, so I learned what I needed to. Sword fighting, too, but I'm more confident with a bow.

[ She takes a sip of her hot chocolate when it arrives, then very politely asks for shortbread if they have it before turning her attention back to Peggy. ]

I hadn't had the chance to practice here just yet, so I thought I'd take advantage of my morning.

[mucked]

[ -- peggy might be half-deep into an order of french fries, but the moment she hears the word shortbread she almost wishes she'd ordered some of that as well. agent carter is a well-steered ship of a women...right up until presented with lunch options. at which point, it's hard to read the line between indecision and gluttony.

for now, however, she takes a long draw on her milkshake. ]

Beg pardon, [ ahem! ] But did you say your kingdom?

[spiritofgoodness]

[ Snow will share if eyes are made at said shortbread longingly enough once it arrives.

Nodding, she stirs her hot chocolate idly. ]

Mhmm. My father's, originally. Now mine, I suppose.

[ She looks...well. The look on her face holds trepidation and worry, but she's not sure she wants to bother someone with it all. ]

[mucked]

-- I hear that's how it works, yes.

[ a touch of wry. but not without a flicker of warmth. after all, lines of succession are matters of fact to citizens of empires. a monarch dies; another ascends. but it's family and it's funerals and it's grief to the ones who are crowned.

not that peggy was ever much of a monarchist. ]

And what kingdom is that?

[ certainly, she doesn't seem all that bothered. ]

[spiritofgoodness]

Oh, it's one very few people have actually heard of, I think. It's called Misthaven, formally. But because it's heavily wooded and filled with magic, it's earned the name 'the Enchanted Forest.'

[ She smiles as she thinks about home, with its large, towering trees, the natural bodies of water and over-all beauty. ]

I was just going back there when I arrived here instead.

[ So she didn't mean to go back and was re-cursed. Minor detail. ]

[mucked]

[ the enchanted forest. honestly? it sounds all a little silly. even now, even living here, even after everything she's encountered and experienced. it's hard to imagine that such a thing might be reality for anyone. but she bites down on her skepticism; it's best kept to herself. ]

-- And does this mean I'm sitting a table away from royalty?

[spiritofgoodness]

I suppose so.

[ Snow just barely smiles; it's true, she's technically the queen, but with Regina on their side again, no longer exiled...does Snow go back to being a princess with Regina ruling? Will they be co-queens? Who knows. We never did figure it out on the damn show, either. ]

Queen.

[ If Peggy ever meets Regina then they'll argue about the right titles then. ]

I suppose when I leave here we'll see whether or not I'm rusty when it comes to ruling an entire kingdom.

[mucked]

Well, your majesty, I'd tell you it's likely just the same as riding a bicycle -- but I've got no experience in ruling. I'm afraid I wouldn't know the first place to start, let alone how to brush up one's skills.

[spiritofgoodness]

I'm sure my stepmother will have quite a lot to say about it. As long as the kingdom is calm, or we can get that way quickly, I think we might be just fine.

[ She gets the feeling from conversations with Regina that things will not be Just Fine, but Snow can't speak to that, so she doesn't even try. ]

Being a people person is probably skill number one, I'd say. Being able to talk to anyone anytime about any issue they might bring to the table. And patience. SO much patience.

[mucked]

-- Then it's a good thing I'm common as mud.

[ she smiles. it's not true, really. upper middle class isn't exactly mud-common by many standards. but it certainly is when comparing ones family tree to a royal lineage. and that, here, is what she refers to. ]

Because you can ask anyone. I'm not known for my patience. [ she munches on a french fry. ] But good on you. It's a responsibility I don't envy.

[spiritofgoodness]

[ It's more complicated than Peggy thinks, but Snow smiles softly, ducking her head a little. ]

In all honesty, I'm nervous about it. I haven't been there in so long and there's so much work to be done. For the past twenty-eight years I've been, well, in the place this diner is modeled after, originally. A town in Maine.

[ She wonders who from home was here years ago that was homesick enough to replicate Granny's. Maybe Regina knows, and Snow makes a mental note to ask her at home. ]

[mucked]

Oh, Heavens. [ that's a bit of an interesting pepper of information, actually. peggy glances around, eyeing the walls the furnishings. ] How odd that must be for you. You know, I came here today for a similar reason -- the place reminds me of an automat I would go to, back home, when I needed to think.

But that's all it is. A similarity. [ nothing like facsimile. ] Someone from your world must have been behind it, then.

[spiritofgoodness]

I think so. Not my step-mother, surely. And not my daughter, I don't think. But I've been told a lot of people from home have been here, coming and going.

[ She pauses, only really paying attention to this bit of information now. ]

Including me. But, of course, I don't remember now. For all I know, I was behind it. In any case, coming here makes me miss my husband a little less. Even if I know he's not very likely to walk through the door.

[mucked]

I know the feeling.

[ -- A BEAT. ]

Not about missing a husband, however. I've never been married. [ only very almost married but she tries not to talk about that too often. ] Rather, apparently I've been here a few times before this particular stay. I don't remember any part of it.

It feels like something has been stolen from you.

[spiritofgoodness]

[ As someone who's had plenty taken away from her, Snow has to think about that for a moment, but then she does nod a little. ]

Memories that may have meant something or been important.

[ What did she do here? What time had she been from? At least when she's cursed at home eventually she gains everything back. ]

I suppose all we can truly focus on is what's in front of us now.

[mucked]

Ever onward.

[ she raises a lukewarm chip to toast the concept. of course, it's a tricky one. she might not know anything about her previous stint in wonderland, but she now knows altogether too much about her future after it. such knowledge turns meeting her future into something of a challenge. ]

Here or otherwise. Luckily I haven't had too many people show up acting like they know me from any previous stays. [ just family from the future claiming to know her eventually. ] I'd say it's for the best but then I have to wonder whether I made myself so very forgettable.

[spiritofgoodness]

Or, maybe it was just so long ago that other people have come and gone as well. The only people who actually said I've been here before are my stepmother and someone named Sam, but only because they've been here for years. My grandson has been here for almost four years and he doesn't remember me being here.

[ So, it's not just you Peggy, it's okay. ]

[mucked]

-- You've got a grandson here.

[ her surprise is obvious. although unlike others, perhaps, peggy doesn't disbelieve. the woman sitting at the neighbouring table might not look old enough to be a grandmother, but that makes no difference. ]

I've got a great-niece here in Wonderland. Never met her before I arrived.

[spiritofgoodness]

[ See? Time does weird things and it's nice to see someone just roll with it for once. Even if outside of Wonderland it's still true. ]

Wonderland has a...strange way of bringing us all together in ways we certainly didn't ask for. Though I can't tell you how odd it is to see him now, practically the same age I am when the last time I saw him at home he wasn't even a teenager yet.