driftfleet | Video/Action

Entry tags:

Video/Action

Who: FDR and OPEN
Broadcast: Fleetwide
Action: A bar somewhere
When: Now

[He’s dressed in a sleek suit, folded collar, black tie, slicked back hair, the whole fancy ensemble. It’s new and it makes him feel somewhat normal again. Hence, the very late, but first public introduction.

He’s sitting on the edge of his bed with his hands clasped together between his knees.]

Hey there, other...captives. TV stars. Whatever we’re being called. And I guess. Anyone else watching. My name is FDR. Yeah, it’s letters. And yeah, like the president. No, I’m not a president, but you know, I don’t mind pretending if anyone wants to be my Marilyn. [And he grins cheekily.] But, really, being named after the guy who came up with that whole “The only thing to fear is fear itself” crap isn’t bad. I mean, a lot of people buy that. It’s not true, by the way. There’s a shitload of stuff to be scared of. Like WMDs. ...My boss. ...Being on an alien’s version of The Real World.

[And he shakes his head, still a little disgusted at the prospect of reality TV. Those were dark days.]

So, back home I was the cruise ship captain of a [smirk] very large vessel. And you know, being in the business of pleasure cruises, I have to say, this one seriously lacks. I mean, people can’t be watching us just to see us busting our asses earning some money, so where’s all the drama, violence, and sex happening? That’s how MTV got their ratings. Or murder...has that happened at all? I mean, not on MTV-I don’t think- on the ships...obviously.[So smooth.]

And I’ve seen some people talking about people they know up and disappearing, anyone know for sure what happens to them? Not enough popularity? Do they get demoted to the alien version of Fear Factor? Star in their own snuff films?

[And he looks like he’s done with his questions for now, he even leans forward to shut off the video, but then pauses, a small smirk gracing his features.]

Oh. And just out of pure curiosity, has anyone tried racing the shuttles?

Action: A bar. Any bar.

[Bars aren’t his favorite scene, there’s just not enough energy. It’s a bunch of depressed and tired people sitting at tables and on barstools nursing their emotions and their booze. He usually prefers clubs, there’s an energy to be found in the loud music and lights and swaying bodies. But this feels more appropriate after working all day at a job he really doesn’t like. He’s not interested in the game so much as he’s interested in the end result right now. And that’s to get drunk.

He’s sitting at the bar, a couple of empty shot glasses in front of him, and the latest in his fingers. The only thing that’s giving him a reason to pause is the woman that moves over next to him to order a drink.]

You. [And he points the pinky finger of his shot-holding hand at her, smiles when the single word catches her attention.] Are shining like a bright light.

[She rolls her eyes and moves away from him and he chuckles lightly at his failure.] Well, guess it’s more of a club line than a bar line.

[And he slams back his shot before setting the glass back on the bar with a clank.] Top it off.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ a well-dressed woman and a well-dressed man. she can appreciate his attention to detail -- somehow, it makes her feel a little more at home. perhaps it's a paradox; she doesn't question it. ]

Come, now. That's hardly a fair thing to ask. Let me keep my mystery.

[ she teases before picking up her glass and giving the drink an exploratory sniff. ]

Well. I do love a good mystery.

[He doesn't blame her for the curious approach to their drink.]

Yeah. When I explained what it was, this is what I got. It's close. Maybe if you think whiskey with a little honey.

[He took a drink of his own with a shrug, just to prove he wasn't going to melt in front of her.]

Like a toddy, [ she allows. ] Or some concoction to soothe the achy throat.

[ she kept her eyes on him throughout her initial sip. a crinkle of surprise soon gives way to mild satisfaction. it's near enough to whiskey as makes no difference, and it spreads a warmth in her chest soon after it's swallowed. peggy sips again. ]

It'll do.

Something like that. [A word he doesn't hear often outside of Scotland, but one he knows well enough.

He only smiles around his glass at that constant gaze turned toward him. She has her reasons, he's sure, but he does like the obvious attention it means she's giving to him. Even if it's only because she's trying to dissect him and figure him out.]

I'm glad. Though, I am willing to venture to another bar to satisfy you if need be. [A flash a of a grin, before he relaxes a bit in his seat.] How are you doing? I mean, with this whole thing. How are you really handling it all?

It could be worse. [ peggy hedges her answer. spy or no spy -- o.s.s. or s.s.r. -- it didn't make it any easier to divulge matters of sentiment above matters of professionalism. ] I am one of the fortunate ones, FDR. I have people here who know me. And who I know in return.

Oh yeah? [And that's certainly an interesting topic of conversation. Mostly, because if they can take multiple people from their own particular timeline and universe then maybe he's got a chance of the real Tuck showing up. And he won't have to settle with the quiet NotTuck.]

Are they...like you? [You know. secret agent.]

If they were, would you expect me to tell you?

[ her smile is light. there is, of course, one spy in particular. but peggy knows it's the right thing to keep natasha's occupation to herself. ]

But most are soldiers, actually. I served during the war. I met a lot of soldiers.

[He snickers and shrugs a shoulder.] Can't blame me for trying.

I imagine you did. And they wound up here too, huh? Same years as you?

I'm afraid it's a little more complex than that. [ she drinks again. savouring the alcohol a moment or two longer before she dares elaborate upon her answer. ] But I imagine we can skip a lot of the exposition with a single question: does Captain America exist in your version of the future, Agent Foster?

Just FDR. [Agent gives him away pretty quickly, doesn't it? Even if he's always been kind of fond of the title, it's not one he...ever gets to use actually.

And of course his world has Captain America. In comic book, and cartoon, and movie form. But...he's got a sinking suspicion that's not what she's talking about. There are, after all, Jedi here and that's setting a precedent for things that just shouldn't be.

So, she's not the only one drinking before answering.] ...As a comic strip, yeah.

[ oh, for heaven's sake... ]

Comic strips. Radio shows. USO pamphlets. They all paint a very narrow picture of the man.

[ because (bless her) she doesn't quite follow his argument. after all, there had been all sorts of fanciful propaganda put out about the star-spangled man. ]

Here's here, you know. In the Fleet.

That's not...[What he meant. Fine. It's fine.

Because...]

What? [Yeah, he looks a little wide eyed.] Captain America is here? Like. On the ships? And you're...friends? You work with Captain America.

[So, he was kind of right about the pin-up comment on first meeting.]

As I said, I served with a lot of soldiers. Captain Steve Rogers was one of the finest.

[ is. is. but even with him here, it's hard to shake the past tense. peggy still struggles to imagine him alive, again, and well in the 21st century. ]

Was. [Give him a minute to sort out the past tense when he is here. But then. God, he should really have paid better attention to the comics that weren't Superman. But. Frozen. Unfrozen in the future. Original encino man.]

...Is Freaking Captain America the guy you are waiting on?

[Wow. Talk about not standing a chance.]

[ a stiff cough. peggy hides her sudden discomfort behind another long mouthful of ersatz whiskey. she supposes there are two sorts of intelligence operatives: the subtle, and the brash. foster is absolutely one of the latter. ]

Good God, man. It isn't like that. [ except it rather clearly is. ] I was the S.S.R. liaison on the project. Nothing more.

[Oh Peggy. He may be a brash operative, but he's also trained in interrogation, and he knows the tells.]

You know, I am good at keeping secrets.

And he and I were both of us very good at remaining professional, [ she cautions. there'd been no impropriety there. well, except for the time she fired a gun at him.

and the kiss--

peggy shakes her head. ] It hardly matters, now.

Uhuh. [Not that he doesn't believe her. He does. Peggy seems the kind to put her professionalism in front of her personal wants, and a woman in that time period? Probably had to work doubly so. So, he lets it go.

Until she makes a comment like that. Because when someone says that, it always actually matters.]

What happened?

[ there are two answers to this question. the bleaker answer involves known history: that captain america crashed, was lost, and presumed dead. and that life for peggy carter marched on while he stayed frozen, only to one day be recovered decades later. two ships, passing in the night.

but peggy, disinterested in giving tongue to her tragedy, focuses upon the kinder answer: ] We're both here. An unexpected windfall for an operation so sordid and evil as the Atroma's.

[He nods. There's not much else he can do. He's got no words for her. Doesn't exactly get what the problem is. When you like someone, you go after them. It's easy like that. And Captain America is chicken shit if he's letting a girl like Peggy wait.]

Alright, how about we finish up these drinks and go dance, huh?

[No reason to sit here poking at painful things, is there?]

[ he is (perhaps) coming at her answer from the wrong angle. it doesn't matter, now because now a relationship is possible. it exists, and quietly thrives beneath the attention of the atroma. they aren't a flashy pair; they aren't in it to make credits. but if fdr got the wrong idea, then it's likely because peggy doesn't oversell her happiness. she hoards it to herself. ]

Dance? [ she laughs. ] I don't imagine you do the lindy hop. The Charleston?

[He puts his hand up to his heart and gives her a dramatically disappointed look.] Are you trying to say I can't swing?

I was told it went out of fashion. [ along with nearly everything else she found a comfort, barring perhaps whiskey. ]

There are such things as classics. [There's also a boy who was often his Nana's dance partner growing up.] And while I would happily do the Charleston in your room with you, this might not quite be the place for it. However, Lindy Hop is always acceptable. Also, I am here for ballroom needs, your country square dancing hoe-downs, and of course...the Macarena.

[ hah. she smiles into her glass. ]

Ballroom? [ she's both surprised and impressed. ] My, so refined.

Action

Action

Action

Action

Action

Action

Action

Action

Action

Action

Action

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject