driftfleet | ( video )

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( video )

Who: Peggy Carter and YOU.
Broadcast: Fleet-wide, from inside the Marsiva.
Action: Y, for any other newcomers between now and the Shuffle.
When: This Week.

[ let us not dwell too long upon the awkward silences and humiliating nascent moments of agent carter's awakening. let it only be said that she woke with a start (despite the afforded comfort) and the broadcast didn't quite zoom in close enough to adequately witness the depth of her horror when she first raised a tentative hand to her forehead only to find an empty glass vial still sitting there. steve's blood had been poured away: returned to his native lands by way of the east river. both guilty and triumphant, she pockets the vial in her blazer and tells herself it's a problem for another time. after all--- ]

Bollocks. [ mistaking herself for a person alone, she swears. loudly and colourfully as she crosses the bay and knocks her knuckles against the too-intact viewing window separating herself from the rest of creation -- and no familiar blue-and-green marble in sight. peggy swears again: bollocks, damnit, and hell. unable to peer into the void for much longer, she turns her back on oblivion and is confronted once more with the too-sterile hospitality deck. she may be a tidy and precise sort of woman, but this much tidiness and precision makes her stomach turn. where is the stink of new york? the heat? the mess? the humanity?

feeling charged with purpose, she springs into (moderate) action. feeling alarmingly comfortable with technology she swears she's never seen before, she plays her fingers across a panel she doesn't know will connect her to the rest of a whol damned fleet -- but she's left with the burning certainty that it'll connect her with someone. imperiously: ]

I would speak with the individual -- or individuals -- in charge of this operation. Believe me when I stress there is a whole bloody cavalcade of laws, both domestic and international, you're breaking by holding me here. I demand to...

[ some of the fire floods from her belly. a little desperate, she changes tactics: ] Is anyone there? Hello?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

There isn't a way to speak to them. I don't think they care about laws..

[ Her anger at the situation is what really compels him to respond. It's getting easier every time, he finds. Although he still picks and chooses. ]

[ tentative. careful: ] I suppose the lawless never do. Bit of a tautological conclusion, I'm afraid.

It isn't the worst place to be held prisoner.

[ Because that's what this is, isn't it? Keep the Atroma happy, get high ratings, and you get to go home. All conditional, no matter how prettily it's presented. ]

That remains to be seen. [ ... ] For me, at least. I've only just become one.

[ a prisoner. what a dirty word. ]

Getting stationed is..better. The people are helpful.

[ Helpful whether you want the help or not. ]

Helpful? Helpful how?

[ she cannot deny the urge to investigate. ]

You'll see it within the next few days. They like new people, they do what they can.

[ And if they're Allen, they'll even bring you cookies 'just because'. It couldn't have been just him- almost everyone he'd met between the Marsiva and the Heron went out of their way. ]

They? Are you talking about your fellow...prisoners?

Everyone else here.

[ Very helpful, Winter. ]

And what of you? Are you helpful?

I don't know.

[ unhelpful, then. ]

How about a name? Have you got one of those? All I see is some sort of ID number...

Winter.

[ ...her answer is a long time coming. ]

Winter. That's a rare sort of name.

Someone here gave it to me. But it's all I have.

[ All that he's aware of having, anyway. Those pesky memories are still not forthcoming at all. ]

[ they call him the winter soldier. she'd be worth nothing if she didn't have her intellect and her intuition.

letter by letter: ] Sergeant Barnes?

[ is she speaking to the other? hydra's toy? the one who fell -- who was supposed to fall -- from that train? her blood boils. ]

I'm not the Captain.

[ More and more people seem to be making this mistake, and as much as he adores Jim, it grates on him. Like nails on chalkboard, clawing at his skull every time.

They don't look that similar, either.. Or at least that's the opinion of someone who has been nameless for so long he can't connect with the reflection he briefly catches in the mirror. ]

You're not. I know you're not. I didn't mean --

[ the words stop. she hates how she feels sympathy for a wounded predator. one that would if he could kill... ]

And yet you may be more him than he is.

[ he's the one who fell. the one steve mourned. ]

I doubt that, ma'am.

[ He doesn't even compare to Jim-- there's no way he could be that compassionate toward anyone. He takes care of his crew and the others he cares about. Winter has tried connecting to anyone else like that and just...falls so far short. ]

Peggy. [ she offers her name almost like a plea. desperate for some spark of recognition, but she dreads it won't come. for anyone else -- and perhaps had she not been primed for this by the other barnes -- she'd never offer such blatant informality for all others to read. ]

Peggy Carter, if you like.

Peggy Carter?

[ He gets that feeling in the back of his mind again, that something is familiar, although it's very much like a mist- something he can't quite grasp onto it like he wants. ]

Yes! [ somehow, a great deal of feeling is injected into that single word. perhaps it's the exclamation mark. or perhaps it's how quickly she replies.

hell, even the fact that she gave her name at all is a sign of some sort of hope. had she not guessed already that 'winter' might in fact be the so-called 'winter soldier' mentioned by the other barnes, she might not have dared to feel anything at all. ]

Peggy Carter. Margaret, really. But very few people call me Margaret.

It's pretty.

[ He takes a few minutes to send his next reply, still trying to catch that feeling he's got. He knows something isn't right, and it involves Peggy, he's sure of it.. Winter just can't seem to trust what his mind says just yet. ]

Are you safe? Is anyone else there with you?

[ -- hah. what an odd weird discomfort it is to be (almost) comforted by a man she once knew and who, if the other one is to be believed, would see steve dead. well: steve's already dead. the thought makes her chest tighten.

and, hell, she doesn't know for certain whether this floating text really is the 'winter soldier'. she could yet be mistaken. ]

Quite safe, all things considered. But not alone.

[ one man (the archaeologist) doesn't frighten her. ]

Good. Most here aren't a threat.

[ Though, perhaps what he constitutes as a threat and what Peggy does are possibly two very different things. ]

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