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[This was a mistake. It was definitely a mistake to abandon Jemma like this, just to volunteer to share living arrangements with the most important spy. He'd just blurted it out and not thought things through, and now there are two people in a soace that's too small and one of them is Peggy Carter.
He tried to make eye contact. It stops somewhere around her shoulder.]
It's nice to make your acquaintance, ma'am. Um. Formally, that is.
He tried to make eye contact. It stops somewhere around her shoulder.]
It's nice to make your acquaintance, ma'am. Um. Formally, that is.
[ with all the ceremony of -- well, someone who's a touch unceremonious, peggy drops a dull-coloured duffel onto a stately chair at the room's far wall. yes, she'd needed a roommate. no, she didn't fancy asking around. and while there's a great deal amiss about the current situation, peggy's curiousity had been piqued by how quickly he'd volunteered.
even so, she'd not expected him to be so shy. maybe the way in which he avoids meeting her eyes reminds her of someone; peggy certainly won't draw the comparison aloud. ]
And yours. [ a beat. ] Agent Fitz? Mister Fitz? Good Lord, I'm afraid I don't much know the protocol in cases like these.
[ that's a bloody understatement. ]
even so, she'd not expected him to be so shy. maybe the way in which he avoids meeting her eyes reminds her of someone; peggy certainly won't draw the comparison aloud. ]
And yours. [ a beat. ] Agent Fitz? Mister Fitz? Good Lord, I'm afraid I don't much know the protocol in cases like these.
[ that's a bloody understatement. ]
[ -- hell. she reads the foreshadowing into his voice and frowns. peggy allows a beat to pass before answering. somehow, she's not surprised. disappointment feels inevitable. ]
And by the sound of you, Mister Palmer, I have to assume the verdict's not great.
[ he'd asked her to call him 'ray' but when the chips are down and business is afoot, peggy falls on old formalities. ]
And by the sound of you, Mister Palmer, I have to assume the verdict's not great.
[ he'd asked her to call him 'ray' but when the chips are down and business is afoot, peggy falls on old formalities. ]
Edited 2017-06-14 14:49 (UTC)
[ it's an ordinary sort of day. tony stark is avoiding his problems in favor of work, as usual. flying above wonderland, mapping the different areas and looking for power sources. on his way back, he considers, re-considers and eventually flies through her window, landing at the center of the room, talking all the while. ]
-- really shouldn't leave your window open. it's like asking peter pan in. or. me, if I'm around. I was around - oh my god, you're not decent.
[ it's the hair curlers. he actually looks at the wall. all mockery but still. ]
-- really shouldn't leave your window open. it's like asking peter pan in. or. me, if I'm around. I was around - oh my god, you're not decent.
[ it's the hair curlers. he actually looks at the wall. all mockery but still. ]
[ so! ray and sarah are getting married, today. and although she'd been grateful for the invitation -- given in the heat of a particularly rough event -- peggy hasn't been a hundred percent certain on attending. it didn't feel within her wheelhouse. and after everything that's happened...
well. she suffers from a real and present instinct to stay holed away from the festivities. but in the eleventh hour (that is, this morning) she decides it might be nice to celebrate someone else's good fortune. tony catches her in the lengthy process of getting ready. contrary to his snark, she is decently dressed -- albeit still casually while her intended outfit hangs from the bathroom door.
peggy, meanwhile, is seated at her desk-turned-vanity while waiting for her nails to dry. her hair is indeed pinned up in waiting curls. there isn't a lick of makeup yet on her face. and yet her frown is just as sharp and dramatic without the lipstick to frame it. ]
You know, you could still knock. Just because it's a window doesn't mean you shouldn't. [ peggy turns in her chair. ] To what do I owe the pleasure of your company, Tony?
[ a mild hello if there ever was one. she fixes him with an impatient look. ]
well. she suffers from a real and present instinct to stay holed away from the festivities. but in the eleventh hour (that is, this morning) she decides it might be nice to celebrate someone else's good fortune. tony catches her in the lengthy process of getting ready. contrary to his snark, she is decently dressed -- albeit still casually while her intended outfit hangs from the bathroom door.
peggy, meanwhile, is seated at her desk-turned-vanity while waiting for her nails to dry. her hair is indeed pinned up in waiting curls. there isn't a lick of makeup yet on her face. and yet her frown is just as sharp and dramatic without the lipstick to frame it. ]
You know, you could still knock. Just because it's a window doesn't mean you shouldn't. [ peggy turns in her chair. ] To what do I owe the pleasure of your company, Tony?
[ a mild hello if there ever was one. she fixes him with an impatient look. ]
[Too much routine can have a way of making days blur together, one into the next, until suddenly there comes a moment when a person suddenly realizes what day it is, and what occasion comes next. For the past several days Rip has been acutely aware of how much time is passed; what is yet to come, each time he happens to catch a glance of his record player.
Each time he sees the LP cover with Elton John's named boldly printed across the front.
Yet it's nothing more than a normal Wednesday in Wonderland. They've been doing this now for long enough that Rip's accepted it as part of his routine. Sevenish or so Peggy raps her knuckles against his door, Rip lets her in, and they share a glass of whiskey--nothing special this time, but rather just a good bottle Rip is fond of. There's no reason for that to have changed in spite of the last event, or the wedding, or even the Wednesday between, when Peggy had fallen asleep in a chair, legs curled up beneath her.
(The blanket has been folded neatly, stored on a nearby shelf. Just in case it happens again.)
He reminds himself of all of this, and in doing wills away the strange anxiousness that creeps into his nerves should he stand still for too long. Perhaps it's merely the swing from one extreme to another: in the span of less than a week, they've gone from having their worst memories replay to attending a rather joyous union, and now back to normal. Pendulums rarely settle so easily after such a sway, and there's likely a new event to come in short order.
A normal Wednesday should be a cause for ease, he decides. Thus, Rip appears entirely himself, entirely normal when the knocking comes and he opens the door.]
Each time he sees the LP cover with Elton John's named boldly printed across the front.
Yet it's nothing more than a normal Wednesday in Wonderland. They've been doing this now for long enough that Rip's accepted it as part of his routine. Sevenish or so Peggy raps her knuckles against his door, Rip lets her in, and they share a glass of whiskey--nothing special this time, but rather just a good bottle Rip is fond of. There's no reason for that to have changed in spite of the last event, or the wedding, or even the Wednesday between, when Peggy had fallen asleep in a chair, legs curled up beneath her.
(The blanket has been folded neatly, stored on a nearby shelf. Just in case it happens again.)
He reminds himself of all of this, and in doing wills away the strange anxiousness that creeps into his nerves should he stand still for too long. Perhaps it's merely the swing from one extreme to another: in the span of less than a week, they've gone from having their worst memories replay to attending a rather joyous union, and now back to normal. Pendulums rarely settle so easily after such a sway, and there's likely a new event to come in short order.
A normal Wednesday should be a cause for ease, he decides. Thus, Rip appears entirely himself, entirely normal when the knocking comes and he opens the door.]
[ sevenish or so, and peggy wrestles with the same question that plagued her last week. should she maintain habit, or should she break with it? and ultimately she comes to the same conclusion: it's somehow easier to face the music and hold with tradition than to break with it. and if she did break with it, it's only because of her own guilt seethes just beneath her skin.
-- guilt for having enjoyed herself. guilt for taking her eyes off the ball long enough to forget that this mansion is a gilded cage. guilt, too, for trying to remember the rise and fall of soft reverbing trumpets from a song she finds she can't recall at all. her attention had been swallowed up by the dance.
but here she is. back in this hallway, sparing a glance over her shoulder for the wall she and he had both sat against during the last event. her head is still turned when she bids her arm into raising to the door and knocking her knuckles hard against the wood. and when the door opens, there she stands.
she will not wait to be invited before she steps inside. habit is habit, after all. to adhere to it broadly only to compromise on its expression, here at the threshold, would suggest weakness. and peggy carter believes she simply can't afford to be weak.
but her smile is warm enough. nothing amiss there, nor in the sweep of red across her lips -- once again a dark and iconic red. all her lines have re-sharpened since the wedding reception. she must have come in from outside because she's wearing a study wool coat. beneath it, once it's unbuttoned, her blouse is seen to be a cloudy grey-blue. but like its white siblings, it doesn't lack for starch and structure. ]
Hullo. [ she tosses her coat over the back of her chair. it's a bit like planting a flag. ] All is well, I hope...
[ her pleasantries are almost too pleasant. ]
-- guilt for having enjoyed herself. guilt for taking her eyes off the ball long enough to forget that this mansion is a gilded cage. guilt, too, for trying to remember the rise and fall of soft reverbing trumpets from a song she finds she can't recall at all. her attention had been swallowed up by the dance.
but here she is. back in this hallway, sparing a glance over her shoulder for the wall she and he had both sat against during the last event. her head is still turned when she bids her arm into raising to the door and knocking her knuckles hard against the wood. and when the door opens, there she stands.
she will not wait to be invited before she steps inside. habit is habit, after all. to adhere to it broadly only to compromise on its expression, here at the threshold, would suggest weakness. and peggy carter believes she simply can't afford to be weak.
but her smile is warm enough. nothing amiss there, nor in the sweep of red across her lips -- once again a dark and iconic red. all her lines have re-sharpened since the wedding reception. she must have come in from outside because she's wearing a study wool coat. beneath it, once it's unbuttoned, her blouse is seen to be a cloudy grey-blue. but like its white siblings, it doesn't lack for starch and structure. ]
Hullo. [ she tosses her coat over the back of her chair. it's a bit like planting a flag. ] All is well, I hope...
[ her pleasantries are almost too pleasant. ]
[ in the end, tony should have known it will all circle back to his problem. it's the last event, really; he hasn't properly slept since the one before that but the last one found its mark. the robots are building other, better robots. there's a clutter and a constant noise in his room. all the better as it keeps him away from sleeping. his eyes close and it all rushes back and then he has to work again.
he's building an army again; one that might fail, one that might never serve its purpose. but he's scared of the what if. the events, he already knows, are based on parts of their pasts and if the chitauri come back ( pouring out of the sky, out of the wormhole and beyond it - ) he has to try.
that's all anyone can do, rogers had written and hell, tony misses rogers. he still thinks the asshole would have at least been a better front to a joint effort. tony was always happier in the back, building everything, paying for everything but not getting personal. not like this.
but a conversation with frank castle rushes in what jarvis would have called a severe panic attack and for a day or two, he shuts down. he still doesn't sleep but some pieces sort themselves and he knows he owes some people an explanation or three.
it's always been easier with pepper.
in the end, he texts. of all things. ]
so i'm not well. which is why I'm not coming over. in person. to say I'm sorry.
I know I was a dick/asshole/jackass/insert weird british insult words.
i'm sorry. I promise I'll be there in person when I can.
[ when he's not so deeply hungover. ]
he's building an army again; one that might fail, one that might never serve its purpose. but he's scared of the what if. the events, he already knows, are based on parts of their pasts and if the chitauri come back ( pouring out of the sky, out of the wormhole and beyond it - ) he has to try.
that's all anyone can do, rogers had written and hell, tony misses rogers. he still thinks the asshole would have at least been a better front to a joint effort. tony was always happier in the back, building everything, paying for everything but not getting personal. not like this.
but a conversation with frank castle rushes in what jarvis would have called a severe panic attack and for a day or two, he shuts down. he still doesn't sleep but some pieces sort themselves and he knows he owes some people an explanation or three.
it's always been easier with pepper.
in the end, he texts. of all things. ]
so i'm not well. which is why I'm not coming over. in person. to say I'm sorry.
I know I was a dick/asshole/jackass/insert weird british insult words.
i'm sorry. I promise I'll be there in person when I can.
[ when he's not so deeply hungover. ]
[ at first, she doesn't know what to do with the message. peggy had expected him to apologize with about as much as she expected to make her own apology: not bloody likely. and upon reading every word a third, a forth, a fifth time -- she finds herself still swinging, pendulum-like, between anger and concern.
and perhaps it's a virtue, a blessing, that she forces herself to take a good long break before she replies. this 'texting' allows her that space and patience, however poorly she sometimes manages it.
eventually: ]
What do you mean you're not well?
[ sick? hurt? stuck? dying, dead, rend apart? she chews the side of her thumb while she waits, knowing he's well within her right to make her wait just as long for his reply. that he should mean 'unwell' by any other measurement simply doesn't occur to her. ]
and perhaps it's a virtue, a blessing, that she forces herself to take a good long break before she replies. this 'texting' allows her that space and patience, however poorly she sometimes manages it.
eventually: ]
What do you mean you're not well?
[ sick? hurt? stuck? dying, dead, rend apart? she chews the side of her thumb while she waits, knowing he's well within her right to make her wait just as long for his reply. that he should mean 'unwell' by any other measurement simply doesn't occur to her. ]
[ the plan had been simple: get the hell out of that insane bathhouse and promptly reevaluate her close connection with mister hunter. after being forced to accept her 'dark side' or else risk death and serious bodily injury, peggy's not so certain she needs to look that particular associate in the eye. things were said; actions were taken. peggy's not proud of any of it.
what makes the plan markedly less simple, however, is the fact that she obviously miscalculated rip's part in all of it. vainly, maybe, she'd hoped he'd swallow the missed engagement and -- and take it on the chin. what she hadn't planned for was him reaching out to her via the network (an attempt which, with a frown, she ignored.)
the real extra mile is in learning he'd apparently dared to go tapping shoulders. and from the very first words heard when she (thoughtlessly) answers tony's call, peggy realizes it's her turn to endure a headache. ]
Don't say them. It makes it sound like there's a bloody queue.
[ she'd been happy to hear from tony, but much of that drains away into an immediate annoyance. peggy inflicts it on tony when really she feels it for rip -- or, really-really, feels it for herself for so inadequately judging rip's reaction to being ignored. ]
I'm hanging up on you, Tony, unless you give me your word you'll stow away all this 'boyfriend' bollocks. It's not like that. Understood?
[ her tone is firm, tired, just a little upset. none too different from how it had been when they'd met in the bathhouse a few days earlier. ]
what makes the plan markedly less simple, however, is the fact that she obviously miscalculated rip's part in all of it. vainly, maybe, she'd hoped he'd swallow the missed engagement and -- and take it on the chin. what she hadn't planned for was him reaching out to her via the network (an attempt which, with a frown, she ignored.)
the real extra mile is in learning he'd apparently dared to go tapping shoulders. and from the very first words heard when she (thoughtlessly) answers tony's call, peggy realizes it's her turn to endure a headache. ]
Don't say them. It makes it sound like there's a bloody queue.
[ she'd been happy to hear from tony, but much of that drains away into an immediate annoyance. peggy inflicts it on tony when really she feels it for rip -- or, really-really, feels it for herself for so inadequately judging rip's reaction to being ignored. ]
I'm hanging up on you, Tony, unless you give me your word you'll stow away all this 'boyfriend' bollocks. It's not like that. Understood?
[ her tone is firm, tired, just a little upset. none too different from how it had been when they'd met in the bathhouse a few days earlier. ]
[ From Sarah, Peggy will have two nicely wrapped presents outside of her door. One is a lavender bath set with salts, soaps, creams, and everything else for relaxation. The other is an Herbal Chai tea collection. There is also a note which reads: 'Merry Christmas, Peggy! I hope both of these gifts keep you warm and relaxed after Wonderlands throw its best curveballs at us. Sincerely, Sarah Palmer. '
[ For Peggy, Jane has a few things:
fancy hair pins for any ocassion!
homemade peppermint bark
A painting, done specifically by Jane for Peggy.
Merry Christmas, Peggy! I wasn't sure if you celebrated, but I wanted you to have something anyway. Thank you, for everything. Oh, and I promise I made this candy so it won't turn you into anything or make you do anything weird.
Sincerely,
Jane Weller ]
Merry Christmas, Peggy! I wasn't sure if you celebrated, but I wanted you to have something anyway. Thank you, for everything. Oh, and I promise I made this candy so it won't turn you into anything or make you do anything weird.
Sincerely,
Jane Weller ]
[Really, Rip's got no expectation of a formal gift exchange. After all, that's the stuff of sweethearts, something which he and Peggy are decidedly not. Still, they're rather far from strangers. A good day might see the word "friend" silently thought, though "colleague" tends to be the spoken label.
Wherever they fall in the grey, Rip has had the idea for his gift for quite some time. Good thing, too. He'd needed to employ a bit of help for the more complicated parts, given the closets constantly refusal to give him anything like the technology he's so used to. But the construction and the design had been entirely his own doing, until at last Rip leaves a neatly wrapped box at Peggy's door come early Christmas morning.
No doubt she'd be able to guess the source of it's contents once she'd opened the box--particularly when she saw the telltale red light emanating from where the cartridge release would be on a typical gun of this type. All the same, there's a note written in neat script included, notably unsigned.:
Given in the hopes you won't find reason to aim at me a second time.]
Wherever they fall in the grey, Rip has had the idea for his gift for quite some time. Good thing, too. He'd needed to employ a bit of help for the more complicated parts, given the closets constantly refusal to give him anything like the technology he's so used to. But the construction and the design had been entirely his own doing, until at last Rip leaves a neatly wrapped box at Peggy's door come early Christmas morning.
No doubt she'd be able to guess the source of it's contents once she'd opened the box--particularly when she saw the telltale red light emanating from where the cartridge release would be on a typical gun of this type. All the same, there's a note written in neat script included, notably unsigned.:
Given in the hopes you won't find reason to aim at me a second time.]
[ -- she was wondering whether this was going to happen. although she's a bit surprised. peggy thought, for certain, she would have to be the one reaching out to tony. it's a good sign that he reached out first. even so, she doesn't rush the topic. ]
Are you offering to be my tutor?
[ light banter to begin with, she thinks. ]
Are you offering to be my tutor?
[ light banter to begin with, she thinks. ]
[ how many heat signature today, FRIDAY? is a question tony usually asks when he's out on his patrols above the grounds. lately the answer has always been two, sir and so he neglected his usual uncalled visits. it's been a while.
just one sir, shall I send a message about your arrival?
it's amazing that tony stark created polite AIs, considering his own answer is no need. ]
must be the wrong room.
[ he says as he climbs through the window and then out of the suit. ]
FRIDAY, your navigation is off. you've led me to a room that looks like it's owned by an actual person. no, we're looking for the one that looks like a waiting room.
just one sir, shall I send a message about your arrival?
it's amazing that tony stark created polite AIs, considering his own answer is no need. ]
must be the wrong room.
[ he says as he climbs through the window and then out of the suit. ]
FRIDAY, your navigation is off. you've led me to a room that looks like it's owned by an actual person. no, we're looking for the one that looks like a waiting room.
[ she'll never confess so but peggy has found her room strangely empty since jane's departure. her thoughts stop just short of calling this feeling by its proper name: loneliness. although the room was never styled to fit two roommates, peggy hadn't minded bunking with someone else. she hadn't minded taking the sofa. not when the cause was good and the other person unobtrusive, even in grief.
and although she can savor sleeping in her own bed again -- savor holding her own court over her own space -- she finds the hours don't pass quite like they used to pass. more often than not, she pours her attention into her two notebooks. one details her thoughts, theories, and findings about wonderland itself; the other is far more personal in nature, with a rough timeline of what's yet to come back home. both are kept ciphered. and both are tucked out of sight when there's a rattle at her window and peggy eases shut the lid of her roll-top desk.
she knows how it is before she turns around -- indulging in a flicker of a smile before she faces him with a mock-stern expression. ]
I was wondering if you'd perhaps forgotten my address. [ it's as close as she comes to expressing pleasure for his visit. she tucks her chair under the desk and quickly, instinctively, turns on the electric kettle. ] Hello, Tony.
and although she can savor sleeping in her own bed again -- savor holding her own court over her own space -- she finds the hours don't pass quite like they used to pass. more often than not, she pours her attention into her two notebooks. one details her thoughts, theories, and findings about wonderland itself; the other is far more personal in nature, with a rough timeline of what's yet to come back home. both are kept ciphered. and both are tucked out of sight when there's a rattle at her window and peggy eases shut the lid of her roll-top desk.
she knows how it is before she turns around -- indulging in a flicker of a smile before she faces him with a mock-stern expression. ]
I was wondering if you'd perhaps forgotten my address. [ it's as close as she comes to expressing pleasure for his visit. she tucks her chair under the desk and quickly, instinctively, turns on the electric kettle. ] Hello, Tony.
Peggy:
I have been woefully out of commission for personal reasons these last few days, and only recently have been capable of responding to your announcement regarding basic training for residents of Wonderland.
You do not need me to tell you that this is an excellent idea, but I would like to state that it is a relief to see something proposed by someone who is not already advantaged with the addition of superhuman powers.
I want to help. Understandably, only you know what is required to best facilitate the endeavour. Should you need additional people to delegate to, I am more than available for your guidance.
Regards,
E. O'Connell
I have been woefully out of commission for personal reasons these last few days, and only recently have been capable of responding to your announcement regarding basic training for residents of Wonderland.
You do not need me to tell you that this is an excellent idea, but I would like to state that it is a relief to see something proposed by someone who is not already advantaged with the addition of superhuman powers.
I want to help. Understandably, only you know what is required to best facilitate the endeavour. Should you need additional people to delegate to, I am more than available for your guidance.
Regards,
E. O'Connell
Hello, Evelyn.
[ they are, it seems, in the business of using christian names. and although the other woman doesn't sign her letter with one, peggy makes a judgment call and matches her form of address to the one used at the head of this funny little letter. funny in its form, rather than its content -- she still isn't quite accustomed to conducting her mail by buttons and screens. ]
Your support is appreciated. As is your offered help. Will you be looking to join us in our morning sessions? I know bugger all about your personal qualifications and capability, but I assure you a good run and some challenging calisthenics does most of us a lot of good. Myself included.
I trust whatever put you out of commission is being handled.
—P.
[ they are, it seems, in the business of using christian names. and although the other woman doesn't sign her letter with one, peggy makes a judgment call and matches her form of address to the one used at the head of this funny little letter. funny in its form, rather than its content -- she still isn't quite accustomed to conducting her mail by buttons and screens. ]
Your support is appreciated. As is your offered help. Will you be looking to join us in our morning sessions? I know bugger all about your personal qualifications and capability, but I assure you a good run and some challenging calisthenics does most of us a lot of good. Myself included.
I trust whatever put you out of commission is being handled.
—P.
Edited 2018-03-24 11:57 (UTC)
Happy Easter Peggy. There's some actual chocolate in the mix. Although you might be too afraid to try it. -Daisy
[ this time, when tony sneaks in, he doesn't leave any iron man merchandise.
instead, the man sneaks in to peggy's room through the window, steps out of the iron man armor and opens the door to two of his robots. it's an odd little scene, iron man and his iron legion only they're not doing aerial maneuvers or great battles.
if you don't hurry up, I'm taking you apart, he threatens them. the woman never stays away for too long, after all and this time, more than ever, he doesn't want to get caught.
he leaves a little pile of things on her bed. there's a box of something that looks like godiva chocolates, another pretty tin box filled with tea bags and a small box containing something else. it's a pretty enough locket on a golden necklace. only while most nephews would put a picture inside, this one contains a little memory card.
there isn't a card. there's a note. ]
connect it to your device for files.
it has room for more.
happy birthday.
[ the signature beneath reads Stark. he doesn't actually know why he signs it only that it feels appropriate. he opens the door, lets the robots out, steps into the armor and flies out through the window. ]
instead, the man sneaks in to peggy's room through the window, steps out of the iron man armor and opens the door to two of his robots. it's an odd little scene, iron man and his iron legion only they're not doing aerial maneuvers or great battles.
if you don't hurry up, I'm taking you apart, he threatens them. the woman never stays away for too long, after all and this time, more than ever, he doesn't want to get caught.
he leaves a little pile of things on her bed. there's a box of something that looks like godiva chocolates, another pretty tin box filled with tea bags and a small box containing something else. it's a pretty enough locket on a golden necklace. only while most nephews would put a picture inside, this one contains a little memory card.
there isn't a card. there's a note. ]
connect it to your device for files.
it has room for more.
happy birthday.
[ the signature beneath reads Stark. he doesn't actually know why he signs it only that it feels appropriate. he opens the door, lets the robots out, steps into the armor and flies out through the window. ]
I suppose it was too much to hope the day might slip by unmarked.
[ peggy sits on her bed, the chocolates already opened and sampled. the tea already sniffed with curiousity. the locket sitting on her lap, curious in its contents -- although she hasn't followed his guidelines just yet. ]
And yet I'm impressed all the same. Well done keeping things sensible and tasteful, Tony.
[ she's so proud. ]
[ peggy sits on her bed, the chocolates already opened and sampled. the tea already sniffed with curiousity. the locket sitting on her lap, curious in its contents -- although she hasn't followed his guidelines just yet. ]
And yet I'm impressed all the same. Well done keeping things sensible and tasteful, Tony.
[ she's so proud. ]
[The next time the anonymous baker "strikes," it's to leave a rather purposefully designed cake in the fifth floor tea room. Again, it's left when no one is around to see it dropped off, with no indication as to just whom the benefactor is. But there is a note written in block letters, no names either to or from--yet intentional none the less, given the text:]
Happy belated birthday.
[Anyone who tries it will be treated to the flavors of an almond sponge, with cherry jam and icing sugar with almonds separating the layers. Those familiar might even recognize the riff on a cherry bakewell for what it is--but surely there's no true significance behind it.
Of course not.]
[Anyone who tries it will be treated to the flavors of an almond sponge, with cherry jam and icing sugar with almonds separating the layers. Those familiar might even recognize the riff on a cherry bakewell for what it is--but surely there's no true significance behind it.
Of course not.]
[ sundays are for rest. she wakes up to no alarm set, she brews her own cuppa in her own room, and she sneaks down the hallway to steal a few scones or pastries from the fifth floor tea room. it's another routine emerging from her days and weeks, asserting itself as something to anticipate. to look forward to. but pattern breaks when she walks inside and sees...
well, that's a bit ornate. even for wonderland. peggy walks around the table and plucks up the note, fingering the stiff cardstock while she reads. three little words, but they leave her with hardly any doubt as to whose cake this. even if it's nearly a week late. is this some trick on the part of the pocket dimension? surely not, or else the cake would have turned up on her actual birthday. no, this has to be the work of someone as stuck here as she is -- someone who'd been ignorant of the occasion before stark opened his gob.
peggy picks a flower off the top and lets a sugar petal melt on her tongue. it's just -- it's just she's never seen a cake quite as extravagant as this. rich reds and royal blues and there's so very much of it.
so she's extra cautious when she walks it, platter balanced carefully in her hands, back to her room.
breakfast becomes a slice of cake alongside her cup of tea, and she is still puzzling out all possible culprits when she sinks her fork into the thick side of her slice. the cake itself sits, in all its dramatic glory, on the low table in her sitting area. it is by far the most extravagant thing in the room. so much so that she'd almost felt guilty cutting into its topmost and smallest layer.
but if she thought the appearance was a coup, then oh she is surprised by the flavour. it's exactly what she likes, peggy realizes within a bite, thanks to the tart cherry jam and the nutty sponge. oh, what she thought was coloured marzipan is clearly something else coating the outside and she strips it away like one might strip a wax off a good cheese.
but the insides!
the flavours register like a codeword on her tongue. a signal phrase, dragged out of her once upon a time to prove she was no mirror. cherry bakewell. and that just makes her eye the whole concoction in an entirely different light. it's about three hundred times more fuss than the chicken sandwiches -- and yet as unlikely as it seems, she has to admit there's something undeniably him about the effort.
peggy reaches for her network device even as she works through the midpoint in her breakfast slice. a handful of private messages are considered, half-typed, but quickly discarded: no one's ever given me flowers i could eat before; i hope you're not expecting me to eat this all by myself; did you purposefully make the bits around the bottoms look like garter trim?
in the end, she settles on a message that's got nothing to do with the cake: ]
I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours.
[ after all, no actual information on any concrete birthdates has been exchanged. yet. for all she's let him know, it could have been any day last week before friday. ]
well, that's a bit ornate. even for wonderland. peggy walks around the table and plucks up the note, fingering the stiff cardstock while she reads. three little words, but they leave her with hardly any doubt as to whose cake this. even if it's nearly a week late. is this some trick on the part of the pocket dimension? surely not, or else the cake would have turned up on her actual birthday. no, this has to be the work of someone as stuck here as she is -- someone who'd been ignorant of the occasion before stark opened his gob.
peggy picks a flower off the top and lets a sugar petal melt on her tongue. it's just -- it's just she's never seen a cake quite as extravagant as this. rich reds and royal blues and there's so very much of it.
so she's extra cautious when she walks it, platter balanced carefully in her hands, back to her room.
breakfast becomes a slice of cake alongside her cup of tea, and she is still puzzling out all possible culprits when she sinks her fork into the thick side of her slice. the cake itself sits, in all its dramatic glory, on the low table in her sitting area. it is by far the most extravagant thing in the room. so much so that she'd almost felt guilty cutting into its topmost and smallest layer.
but if she thought the appearance was a coup, then oh she is surprised by the flavour. it's exactly what she likes, peggy realizes within a bite, thanks to the tart cherry jam and the nutty sponge. oh, what she thought was coloured marzipan is clearly something else coating the outside and she strips it away like one might strip a wax off a good cheese.
but the insides!
the flavours register like a codeword on her tongue. a signal phrase, dragged out of her once upon a time to prove she was no mirror. cherry bakewell. and that just makes her eye the whole concoction in an entirely different light. it's about three hundred times more fuss than the chicken sandwiches -- and yet as unlikely as it seems, she has to admit there's something undeniably him about the effort.
peggy reaches for her network device even as she works through the midpoint in her breakfast slice. a handful of private messages are considered, half-typed, but quickly discarded: no one's ever given me flowers i could eat before; i hope you're not expecting me to eat this all by myself; did you purposefully make the bits around the bottoms look like garter trim?
in the end, she settles on a message that's got nothing to do with the cake: ]
I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours.
[ after all, no actual information on any concrete birthdates has been exchanged. yet. for all she's let him know, it could have been any day last week before friday. ]
Edited 2018-04-15 18:14 (UTC)
[ The box is left in front of Peggy's door, wrapped in crisp silver paper with colorful balloons on it. Inside is a puzzle book of codes, a thigh holster for the FNP Sharon gave Peggy when Peggy first arrived, and an escape utility knife. There's a card that obviously came from the closet, with a panda wearing a birthday hat on the front. Sharon has never been particularly artistic.
The note inside reads, "Baking attempts didn't go as planned. Have some cake from the closets on me. Happy birthday, Aunt Peggy. Love, Sharon." ]
The note inside reads, "Baking attempts didn't go as planned. Have some cake from the closets on me. Happy birthday, Aunt Peggy. Love, Sharon." ]
[ Jane knows Peggy is private, and as such, rather than give her a present for everyone to see, Jane puts a package on her next door neighbors doorstep (as it were) before knocking and ducking back into her own room. There's a notecard that simply says From Jane and a few wrapped gifts. They are:
A watch in silver or gold (whichever Peggy would prefer, player decides.)
In a floating glass and wood frame a photo of the two of them together.
A nice, sophisticated rosewood candle. Not overbearing, subtle, and perfect. (Jane hopes.)
She hasn't made a big to-do out of it, she just wants Peggy to know she's cared for. ]
She hasn't made a big to-do out of it, she just wants Peggy to know she's cared for. ]
Edited 2018-04-20 15:09 (UTC)
With apologies for the interruption, this is just a note to inform you that I've been summoned away on a project that requires more attention than most. I'll be out of the lab for 48 hours or so. Please expect a hold on any ongoing research or personal projects. I ought to be back in the lab by Wednesday.
Your patience is appreciated.
[It's definitely a form letter. He won't be answering any replies from this. Do try not to worry.]
Your patience is appreciated.
[It's definitely a form letter. He won't be answering any replies from this. Do try not to worry.]
[It doesn't occur until a bit later that Peggy might know something she doesn't -- about where Fitz has gone or what this project that's taking up his precious time might be.]
Pardon for the late message, but did you happen to get one of these or know anything about what he might be doing?
[Not that she's looking for you to tattle if you know, Peggy. She would just like some peace of mind.]
Pardon for the late message, but did you happen to get one of these or know anything about what he might be doing?
[Not that she's looking for you to tattle if you know, Peggy. She would just like some peace of mind.]
Nothing for me, if that's what you're wondering.
[ it wouldn't be a bad guess, really. she did (does) so like to call upon the fellow when she needs a bit of reinforcement. ]
Although I was about to reach out and ask you the same ruddy thing. Is he in the habit of leaving messages like that?
[ jemma knows him best, after all. ]
[ it wouldn't be a bad guess, really. she did (does) so like to call upon the fellow when she needs a bit of reinforcement. ]
Although I was about to reach out and ask you the same ruddy thing. Is he in the habit of leaving messages like that?
[ jemma knows him best, after all. ]
[The message has all the careful curation of someone who is doing their best to remain calm.]
I feel like I'm asking you a lot these days, but have you seen Fitz since the chess match?
I feel like I'm asking you a lot these days, but have you seen Fitz since the chess match?
[ so! By now tony's life went from weird to weirder. He sat with two man drowning themselves in alcohol, he's been aggressively sober and while he dislikes both, he feels a lot for the one woman in the eye of the storm.
Steve's arrival awakened old fears and old traumas in him, he can't imagine what it did for his aunt.
And so naturally, the obvious line of conversation is - ]
did you know there's an ice cream flavor that's named after me?
Steve's arrival awakened old fears and old traumas in him, he can't imagine what it did for his aunt.
And so naturally, the obvious line of conversation is - ]
did you know there's an ice cream flavor that's named after me?
[ dear lord yes she is exhausted and confused and although she's made her stand -- although she's done her due diligence -- she doesn't feel all that much better for it. not in the long run.
still. she senses she knows what he's up to. ]
Of course there is. Something absurdly decadent, I take it?
still. she senses she knows what he's up to. ]
Of course there is. Something absurdly decadent, I take it?
[ It's not Thursday, but after talking to Patterson, after talking to Kurt, all Jane can think to do is tell her best friend two of the most important things she's been told. When someone goes home and comes back, apparently, it can be good.
It's already ten p.m., she hopes it isn't too late, and she knocks on Peggy's door, the sound probably a little more urgent than her usual knock on Thursday night. And just so she doesn't come to the door packing, she speaks quietly - so as not to wake the neighbors. ]
It's Jane.
It's already ten p.m., she hopes it isn't too late, and she knocks on Peggy's door, the sound probably a little more urgent than her usual knock on Thursday night. And just so she doesn't come to the door packing, she speaks quietly - so as not to wake the neighbors. ]
It's Jane.
[ -- a knock at the door? and at this hour. how curious. it's not as though peg's asleep (or near to it) but she receives so few unexpected visitors.
peggy rises from where she'd been half-sitting half-laying on the sofa. a well-creased paperback novel (something pulpy, something cheesy, something that might rightly be mistaken for a bawdy romance) hangs from her fingertips, but she takes a moment to slyly hide it under something bigger and bulkier. a weighty book about robotics, maybe. and as she walks across the room, she unties and reties the belt of her robe over silk patterned pajamas.
she stops by a shelf and reaches for a holster but -- but jane identifies herself and peggy, not realizing until that moment how tightly she'd been wound, feels herself relax. and when she answers the door it's with pins still in her hair -- as if she'd been sitting waiting for her curls to set. ]
Come in, come in -- [ she ushers jane inside while feeling a flicker of worry. ]
peggy rises from where she'd been half-sitting half-laying on the sofa. a well-creased paperback novel (something pulpy, something cheesy, something that might rightly be mistaken for a bawdy romance) hangs from her fingertips, but she takes a moment to slyly hide it under something bigger and bulkier. a weighty book about robotics, maybe. and as she walks across the room, she unties and reties the belt of her robe over silk patterned pajamas.
she stops by a shelf and reaches for a holster but -- but jane identifies herself and peggy, not realizing until that moment how tightly she'd been wound, feels herself relax. and when she answers the door it's with pins still in her hair -- as if she'd been sitting waiting for her curls to set. ]
Come in, come in -- [ she ushers jane inside while feeling a flicker of worry. ]
Edited 2018-06-21 23:34 (UTC)
[ Remi didn't get a chance to talk to Peggy Carter at the chess match, but that doesn't mean she hasn't been watching and listening when she can. She knows enough to know that Jane and Peggy are the closest of friends which means Peggy is valuable. She's not stupid, though, so Remi plans carefully, waiting.
She knows enough to not try anything on Wednesday or Thursday, so Friday it is. Carefully, she writes with a dry erase marker on her side. ]
Do you ever wonder what Jane would have been like if she had a friend like you back home?
I do.
She knows enough to not try anything on Wednesday or Thursday, so Friday it is. Carefully, she writes with a dry erase marker on her side. ]
Do you ever wonder what Jane would have been like if she had a friend like you back home?
I do.
[ ...flipping hell.
peggy doesn't notice the writing on her mirror until after a quick navy shower -- she's idly tucking pins into her hair, preparing tomorrow's curls, when she turns with a swish of silk robe and sees the letters printed with care on the reflective surface.
with a pin still clamped between her teeth, she leans in to better examine the script. oh hell, oh christ, oh who the devil is this? her own mirror, perhaps?
or jane's.
or simply someone else's, eager to sew doubt and worry and regret. so (feeling embers stoked in her stomach) peggy reaches for a lipstick she quickly uncaps and uses to trace out her reply: ]
I surely don't. Here is here and home is home. Apples to oranges.
[ isn't it? ]
peggy doesn't notice the writing on her mirror until after a quick navy shower -- she's idly tucking pins into her hair, preparing tomorrow's curls, when she turns with a swish of silk robe and sees the letters printed with care on the reflective surface.
with a pin still clamped between her teeth, she leans in to better examine the script. oh hell, oh christ, oh who the devil is this? her own mirror, perhaps?
or jane's.
or simply someone else's, eager to sew doubt and worry and regret. so (feeling embers stoked in her stomach) peggy reaches for a lipstick she quickly uncaps and uses to trace out her reply: ]
I surely don't. Here is here and home is home. Apples to oranges.
[ isn't it? ]
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