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

[outstandingbalance]

Oh, it definitely could have gone worse. [But it would have been hard to find a worse moment to pull from her past. In some ways that may have been to Peggy's advantage. Natalia hadn't wanted a fight after that tests.

But that didn't mean she wouldn't have fought like a cornered animal if things had gone differently.] Luckily I don't think anyone got hurt out of it.

Didn't figure I was the only problem child though.

[mucked]

Far from it. I found one turning my room over -- and when I went to toss him out on his ear, [ not quite how it happened, actually, but, ] he stuck me with my own hair pin.

[ clumsy, maybe. but he'd been only a boy and even before peggy realized who he was, she'd already realized the conceit of the event. ]

The sort of thing I rather suspect your younger self might have tried had I made a play for her -- your -- sandwich.

[outstandingbalance]

If you'd gone for my sandwich, I might have gone for your gun.

[There's enough space there now that Natasha to find some dark humor in it, the words coming out dry but with a slight smile.]

No one tried to take my sandwich, though, so it worked out. Pepper even got me some chips.

[mucked]

She does seem to be a touch more the nurturing type. [ compared to herself, that is. peggy had been a bit at her wits end with many of the children -- even some of the younger-but-adult versions. ]

Did you spend your childhood on the street?

[ as opening guesses go, it's not a bad one. food scarcity; suspicion; picking and choosing battles based on survival and not on pride. not altogether different from what she saw in michael, really. ]

[outstandingbalance]

Parts of it. [Which isn't untrue. And also doesn't clarify what the rest of her childhood was like, let alone where she'd been before that memory.] But there's more than a few of us around here.

[mucked]

[ true enough, true enough. peggy nods her way through her concession -- but doesn't shy away from the next obvious question. ]

And the other parts?

[ after all, it's only truly invasive if natasha wants it to be; there'll be no begrudging a dodge for an answer. ]

[outstandingbalance]

Ever seen a Soviet orphanage, Agent Carter? [It's a dodge. At least part of a dodge. She doesn't commit herself to the answer, but it still alludes to a certain kind of experience.

Natasha's relationship with the truth and honesty allows for flexibility. She'd file this as an honest answer, even if it's not exactly factually true.] The street might be friendlier.

[mucked]

I have, in point of fact.

[ although she suspects 'orphanage' might be too kind a word for what she and the howlies saw in russia. what might have been an orphanage by letter was certainly something else in spirit: a place of programming and fear. of breaking down little girls and building them up into something else. weapons of the state, perfectly poised to strike at the heart of capitalist decadence.

and, back home, peggy has just let one loose on los angeles. ]

And I suspect you're likely right. [ they've reached the mansion's front door -- peggy holds it open before they pass through. ] What I saw was far from friendly.

[outstandingbalance]

[Hm. Natasha pauses as Peggy holds the door, considering using the moment as an excuse to part ways. They had a good touch base. They could come back to the conversation later.

But that's avoidance.

She steps through first, hands in her pockets.]

That would have been just after the war. It gets better. A little better, at least.

[mucked]

I should hope so. [ it gets better. ] What I saw was little more than a prison -- complete with handcuffs on the beds and cells in the basement.

[ and if she tells this now then she thinks practically nothing of it. after all, there aren't any handcuff scars on natasha's wrists. and there's nothing about her, on a moment-to-moment basis, that puts her in mind of dottie underwood.

the only reason she'd ever have to suspect a connection is their nationality, and that's no reason to suspect anything. ]

[outstandingbalance]

Handcuffs, huh. [Natasha doesn't sound shocked or appalled. She doesn't sound much of anything as she comments on it, a sort of noncommittal acceptance of the information.]

Well. No handcuffs on the bed. Don't think you'd want to go in the basement, though.

[She shrugs it off.]

Still, thanks for your patience. You caught me at a particularly bad moment.

[mucked]

To be honest, [ peggy sighs, ] it was easier once I had a guess of who you were.

[ the accent, the name, the hair. ]

I'm not certain I would ever be half so patient with just any child wandering about. [ not her forte, really. ] But there's something to be said for your acquaintances remembering, after the fact, that you managed not to make a fool of yourself trying to send them to sit in the corner for an afternoon.

[outstandingbalance]

I wouldn't say you made a fool of yourself as it went, at least. [Natasha might be the one who did that. Or if not foolish, something even worse: honest.]

Sort of figured I'd been made, what with one thing and the other. How many people could it have been.

[mucked]

How many, indeed.

[ and perhaps it's a simple as that -- missteps moved past and funny incidents forgiven. like natasha said, it could have been worse. although something tickles at the back of her rib cage. why could it have been worse? ]

It's true, by the way. [ she flashes a near-smile. ] In case you haven't heard it before -- we actually none of us age while we're here. Small bloody mercies.

[outstandingbalance]

[In a vague, philosophical way, things could always be worse. Of course they could. But Natasha has more specifics in mind.

She tries not to dwell on them.]

You know, I don't think anyone had. All things considered, I figure we all hoped it wouldn't be relevant.

That said... [A wry smile.] I'm a lot more credulous now.

[mucked]

[ -- it's a odd thing, really. to laugh. but laugh she does. what else is she to do? peggy isn't the one whose childhood was laid bare, unlike so many others. mister hunter, and jane, and now romanoff as well. she's got the advantage here. the rest of them were made uncommonly vulnerable in those moments.

best not to rub too much salt in those wounds. she changes the topic. ]

-- Have you been out to the firing range? [ peggy raises a hand. she points. it's where they're headed, after all. ]

[outstandingbalance]

I have. Not recently, though. [That's a subject change if Natasha ever heard one. She's willing to let it ride.] Going for some practice?

[mucked]

I was. Still am, I suppose.

[ ... ]

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. ]

[outstandingbalance]

Are you sure you want to do that? In my experience, it has a way of turning into a competition.

[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.

[mucked]

It doesn't have to get competitive.

[ 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. ]

[outstandingbalance]

How many guesses do I get on who upgraded that for you? [With a wryly cocked eyebrow.] Suppose as long as it's just showing off and not a competition, I wouldn't mind seeing what that can do.

[mucked]

[ now, there's a question. peggy can't make a call in one direction or the other whether the craftsmanship behind the gun is obvious -- except in that it's obvious who likely didn't work on it.

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.

[outstandingbalance]

I like a good mystery. [A little a smile.] I'm more interested in seeing what you can do with that anyway.

[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?