driftfleet | ✮ ( 001 ᴠɪᴅᴇᴏ / ᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴ )

Entry tags:

✮ ( 001 ᴠɪᴅᴇᴏ / ᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴ )

I knew I should have looked up 'reality shows' a few months back.

[ The man who appears on the screen is currently looking at what seems to be a little notepad before adding the word 'space' next to the words 'reality tv'. Really, he could have done this space setting if it included an inter-galactic war or helping planets in peril.

But in all honesty, Steve Rogers: entertainer has never been his career choice and it's not his forte, either. At least now the whole thing doesn't include singing and girls in scandalously short skirts. ]

My name is Steve Rogers, currently aboard the SS Pathstone. I've done a little bit of reading while aboard the Marsiva. I understand there are those who are trying to help the people on the moon we're visiting, if there is anything you need, I'd do whatever I can do to help.

[ you might catch a glimmer of red and blue and silver just behind him. A wink as the light hits metal ]

The same goes for going home. I imagine people have already looked into ways for us to leave this place. No one should be taken anywhere against their will. I'd like to hear about the information you have managed to collect and I'll do everything I can to make sure everyone will be able to go home safely.

[ you all get a little smile. he's so awkward at these things, can you tell by now. ]

I heard I've missed quite a party.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ he looks at her for a good long moment even it becomes obvious the comm is sending its signal to her. He should have taken a moment to look at the message and take her in before - it would have saved him this long moment of evident staring but Steve Rogers, after all, was never good at talking or approaching women. Especially the one who meant more than all the rest.

The last time he had seen her this young, she pressed close and gave him the first and only kiss he ever had the luck of getting from her. After that, it was her image here and there, the videos from a time he couldn't return to.

And in his thoughts, always in his thoughts. ]

I'd embarrass my partner, I don't really know how to dance.

[ said with a little sheepish smile. ]

I remember a girl who once told me she'd teach me.

I remember. [ truncated, and aching. but peggy manages to draw a smile out from behind her uncertainty. the broadcast frames her slightly off-center, with hair longer than he might best remember. and the collar of a silk blouse suggesting she isn't in any recognizable uniform.

not normally lost for words, she now takes her time -- watching him, missing him, and realizing that even his former stint within the fleet had hardly been enough to satisfy her. ]

-- You were sorely missed. And you would have made a better student, I imagine, than the partner I had.

[ cruel, perhaps. but she's only teasing him. because soon enough she'll tell him who her partner was, and they can tackle the bucky-shaped problem together. ]

Edited 2016-05-09 19:57 (UTC)

[ and as beautiful as he remembers her, even more so being here and well and almost in his reach. it has been like this since he met her, after all. she was always all too clever and beautiful and almost, almost in his reach but not quite.

he had slipped from her grasp years and years ago but here and now they are almost, just nearly, seeing eye to eye at last.

he's not very good at this, even after all those years and all those changes, his expression becomes a little pained ( is it someone he doesn't know? is it the man she will one day marry? ) before he smiles and says the only truth he knows ]

I hope he realized how lucky he is.

[ -- oh. her heart constricts, but she doesn't betray an inch of it on her face. why should she? peggy carter is the spy. the agent. and yet she feels a pang of guilt for playing this game with him. it isn't fair; he feels this reunion more keenly than she does, perhaps. not so long ago she danced with him at christmas, and he'd tapped morse code against her collarbone.

but the look on his face, today, proves to her that he is raw from his world. seeing her is as much a shock today as it had been before. her mirth softens, and dovetails into cautious reassurance: ]

Wasn't that sort of date, actually. More like two lonely people deciding to keep each other company. If he's made any progress at all, you'll hear from him soon. I daresay he might have missed you, as well.

[ it's hard to tell with the winter soldier. ]

[ he is remarkably awkward on his feet when it comes to her, for a super soldier. he wants to ask - in his heart he already knows, there is only one person who knows Peggy well and would have to make - progress she said, to speak to him. Only one and she gives him an incredible amount of hope. Not just that Bucky is here, finally, in a place where Steve can talk to him, but that he has not hurt anybody and perhaps, perhaps that means he was able to remember.

he wants to ask about bucky, he wants to ask about her. he wants to tell her she should never have been lonely, he wants to say i'm sorry a hundred times over, he wants to say I want - can I see you? and he's not sure what's right to say, never was, really. ]

I'm - sorry you had.

[ miss him, that is. he cannot begin to tell her how much he missed her, not like this. maybe soon, maybe whispered awkwardly into her hair.

he shouldn't imagine himself holding her. ]

[ had she always been able to read him so well? peggy doubts it. doubts, indeed, that it has anything to do with him. more like her own progress through a stormy career has granted her insight she'd not had back on the battlefield. he tamps down his hope, and she watches as he does so -- little does he know, she's privy to a great many details. ]

Can the Pathstone spare you for an hour or two, Captain? [ steve. she almost descends into informalities. peggy puts to words what he can't: ] I want to see you. Properly.

Yes ma'am.

[ it's the only response he will ever give her. his throat is a little dry around the words. he thinks of what it'd be like to see her, hair longer and lipstick in place but other than that, the same as he remembered her. he almost fears it, almost worries she would slip away before he could even take a good look at her. he makes certain to do it now, taking in the sight of her just in case.

there will never be enough time for them, not ever. ]

Where to.

Starstruck. Come when it's convenient -- don't rush on my account. [ cheeky, almost. as if she hopes he'll rush all the same. she isn't aloof to his feelings, but rather feels them as deeply and as abidingly as he does. her skin almost prickles with anticipation. ]

Or do. I won't be complaining.

I'm on my way.

[ just her asking has him leaving his room. a word from her is all it took and steve goes to her as he should have, with a choked throat and a heart a bit too full. it's been so long, she had cried at him, older and wrinkled and beautiful and he held her hand and felt humble in her presence.

he always does and he always will. he steps off the shuttle, shield strapped to his back ( if there is a sudden danger, if anything might risk her, anything at all - ) and for a moment there is him and peggy, face to face and he wants -

her hair is longer and the uniform are gone but she is just the same as he remembers and as real as ever hoped she would be.

we can go home.

they cannot, not ever but she is here. and steve takes one step after the other until he stands in front of her ]

There aren't many things growing on that moon. Otherwise, I'd bring flowers.

[ it's an awkward little confession, if there ever was one ]

[ she is so rarely nervous. and yet here she stands, silk shirt and pencil skirt -- adjusting the crease of her clothing as if any line out of place might betray the ticker-tape parade in the back of her mind. perhaps she chases max out of the shuttle bay -- chases his dog out, too -- because she can't abide the thought of her crew seeing this much vulnerability all at once.

and then his shuttle arrives, and she goes still like a statue. her fingertips catch on each other, and she stands just there -- removed, to the left, and anticipating his first solid steps onto the ship's floor.

and oh blimey he is every bit as exquisite a man as she recalls. chiseled from more than just a physical presence, but a very real emotional one as well. he radiates, or else is magnetic, and she can't help herself from taking that small half-step and touching the outside of her thumb to his elbow. his shoulder. his cheek.

it takes deep resolve not to shed a tear or three. peggy exhales, shaky but firmly planted. ]

Bugger flowers. [ it's stars she wants. ] I'll do without.

[ people know steve rogers as captain america. the man who fought HYDRA, the man who defeated the red skull, the man who led the avengers, who fought an army of aliens and an army of robots. but in front of her, he feels like the same boy from Brooklyn who climbed into her car on the day that changed his life. all that came before matters little and he is only himself, only steve, shy and awkward at her presence, smiling at her words. she's anything but traditional and wonderfully familiar for being so. no world will change peggy carter, not their own, not this, not a thousand more. he had seen modern times and the modern world and nothing and no one could compare to her.

he wants to assure her, to hold her, to tell her a million different things and mean every last one.

but manners, first. the man who is the leader of the avengers is still the boy from Brooklyn and it is that boy that takes her other hand, presses a kiss to the palm. ]

You - look beautiful.

[ it's probably a bit stupid and all too honest, the only combination he seems to be around her. ]

[ colour doesn't rise to her cheeks. she isn't the blushing sort -- but the coy glimmer in her eye is indication enough that she finds a tremulous charm in his wayward approach. his clumsy attempts. flowers and kisses, good heavens! she feels his lips against the softer inside of her palm and it's like a jolt going straight from her hand to the pit of her stomach. ]

Right. No need to beat around the bush, then, [ she huffs. and hems. if he's going to be so bold and honest, then it's only right that she should follow suit. peggy parlays his chaste kiss against her palm into something else, wrapping her fingers around the lapel of his jacket and tugging him deeper into her personal space. it isn't the first time she's dragged him to her lips, and if the fates are good to them then perhaps it won't be the last.

atroma be damned. let them watch and ogle and coo as she catches his mouth with hers. she kisses him not unlike the fashion of the other, before he boarded the valkyrie -- punctuated with insistence and the distinct impression that they were both of them running out of time.

an hour from now, cooler heads could prevail. but she wasn't going to make the mistake of playing hard to get when she'd already been got long ago. peggy carter is so tired of goodbyes. ]

[ for half a second he thinks of ducking in case she'll punch him for being late and late again. he would never fault her for it but even for him, an angry peggy is something to be feared. she did shoot at him once.

there is another apology on his lips but she yanks him closer, close enough so he could catch her scent, see the way the light catches her eyes and a moment later peggy carter is kissing him and steve rogers draws a blank.

the last time she had kissed him was in a dream, the one before that was urgent and comforting and the damn best motivation a soldier can get when facing their enemy. now, now they have at least a bit of time. time for steve's hand to move through her hair, his other to hold her around her middle ( never her hips. he knows what's appropriate with a lady. )

they're pressed together for a moment and another and steve is reluctant to let her go, even for a moment. he keeps her pressed against him, smiling into the small space between himself and her. ]

I hope that's - not the welcome all this ship's guests get.

[ every minute movement pings her radar: every breath and every touch. the simple taste of his mouth transports her back to the battlefield -- conjuring the memory of dirt and gunpowder. leather and rain-soaked forest. peggy inhales sharply, just as their kiss breaks. her forehead cants against his, and she has to force her eyes open. they do all the smiling while her mouth stays in a slightly parted line, and her fingers knot harder into his lapel like she doesn't dare let him go.

is it real? she, too, has dreamed this a little too often. scripted every angle of the arm and sweep of fingertips -- and it never lives up to reality, with its cannon-fire exultation. to an outsider's perspective, the moment is quiet. but peggy would swear she could hear their very pulses.

her laughter is taut, tense. ] It's not precisely protocol, no. [ she doesn't retreat. she doesn't step back. ] And you'll forgive the rest of the crew for not following suit.

Edited 2016-05-10 22:38 (UTC)

I think it's for the best.

[ there is a hint of humor there, he doesn't laugh outright but the edge of his lips curve into a smile, small and intimate. she holds onto him as if he is her very anchor to the ground, he holds her gently not because she is fragile, far from it, rather because she is precious and cherished exactly as she is, rich accent and to-the-point humor and lovely and she feels almost like home. almost like something steve had been chasing all his life.

she's the very thing that in one instant, brings relief to tired bones and an aching soul. he heard men speak of what and who was waiting for them back home. the war ended years and years ago and steve was never able to return to her side after, not until, oddly enough, now.

his fingers are still in her hair, her lipstick is a tiny bit smudged, he can imagine his lips bear its traces ]

I still remember what happened last time.

[ remember, you shot at him. ]

[ well, that memory brings colour to her cheeks. peggy is no less capable of getting so hot under the collar, but the handful of years between then and now have done some work towards mitigating her temper. indulgently, she pats her hand against his shoulder -- as though sweeping away invisible dust. ]

Bullets are too hard to come by, here, [ she cracks back with bone-dry humour. ] I shouldn't let myself waste any on you even if I wanted to.

[ one measure fastidious, and another measure possessive, she swipes her thumb across his lower lip. tender, and tidy. her finger comes back pinkish-red with lipstick smudges, and she at long last lets that smile fall upon her mouth. ]

Nor would it be very captainly, [ she admits while loosing him from her grip, all in order to invite him deeper into the starstruck. ] I have an example to set for my crew.

[ he almost reaches reaches back for her when she wipes the red away from his lips, just almost. he will have hundreds of these 'almost' moments, it would seem and maybe it's a foolishness. he surely far too many almosts with her but she is still a lady and he will never not be cautious and awkward, it would seem. ]

I'm not surprised.

[ said as he follows her. it suits her, after all ]

How long?

[ has she been here, has she been captain. ]

Nearly nine months since I arrived. [ her answers are direct, and without hardly any qualification. in this regard, she has nothing to hide from him. no secrets to safeguard. the secrets she does have, however, are buried far deeper below the surface.

peggy clearly knows her way around the ship. she's bee-lining for the galley kitchen. generally, she tends to invite personal guests to her quarters but -- but somehow, she couldn't bring herself to extend that invitation to him. he's a different sort of connection. unlike jim, unlike howard. ]

But less than a month since I assumed the rank. Our former captain left, and I was his first mate. [ so she attained it almost by default. ] Captain Carter takes some getting used to. And yet I imagine I'm preaching to the choir on that count.

[ she smiles over her shoulder. just for him. ]

Edited 2016-05-12 16:46 (UTC)

[ he sucks in a breath at first. nine months, she says, nine months trapped here and for what? as angry as he is with their kidnappers for trapping people here, he is perhaps biased in how unhappy her being here for so long makes him. ]

Looks like we're finally on equal terms, Captain.

[ he has to smile back, it's impossible not to. ]

[ equal terms. her smile persists, even as she turns her head and steps into the kitchen. it's a fairly well-upgraded affair: good provisions, though there's still just about barely enough room for the crew itself to sit down to meals. ]

Finally, he says. Do tell me what sort of terms we were on before, hm?

[ but choose your words carefully. heaven knows she's endured heaps of gossip and whispers behind her back, back home. at the new york office, the men would snidely refer to her as captain america's girlfriend. as if that's all she'd ever been.

truth is, she'd never been allowed even that much before he'd been taken from her. ]

I have a feeling I don't want to answer that.

[ either way, he might get in trouble with her and he was doing so nicely what with the smiles and the kissing. even so and if only because he will always, always reassure her of what he thinks ( felt, feels ), he touches his hand to hers just so. ]

They're in good hands. the best ones here, probably.

[ finger to finger. nearly palm to palm. they flirt a moment with the possibility of holding hands -- and she almost winds her pinkie up with his. but the second passes, peggy exhales, and all at once she's pouring water into a kettle. the hard clang of metal punctuates their conversation. ]

You said it. Not me. [ brisk, and busy. funny how after all this time -- even after their kiss, minutes earlier, she doesn't know how to be with him. they never learned how to be together; only how to be apart.

she clears her throat. ] 1947, by the way. Summer. [ and peggy wets her lips. ] How -- how far ahead are you?

Edited 2016-05-13 00:10 (UTC)

2015.

[ there isn't anything he can say to make this better or easier, so much is clear even to him. some things are simply as they are. steve rogers made a choice and has dealt with the consequences of it from the very day he woke up again, a man out of his time. now, out of time and out of place and with her, he's as hopelessly lost in this as she is.

he watches her as she busies herself with water and kettle, wants to put a hand on her arm and stop her for a moment, if only to find out what inner turmoils she's going through, to bring her any matter of comfort.

there has to be something to say - ]

You know. Fighting armies of robots. The usual.

[ ...ok perhaps that wasn't the best shot. ]

[ robots? now, that's surprising. peggy puts the water to boil and turns 'round to face him, hands still edged upon the counter. the year sounds close enough to the rest, however. far flung and mysterious.

she tilts her chin. ] I know about the aliens in New York. [ her brows raise as she tells it, as though she almost still doubts the veracity of that particular story. but jim had sworn to it, and shared the shield files besides. ]

But I know far less about any robots. It sounds a story -- one I'll doubtless hear, eventually. [ perhaps not right now. peggy isn't certain whether it was the most appropriate time to hash that difference out -- not unless he wanted to. ]

Edited 2016-05-13 17:18 (UTC)

There was that, too.

[ he smiles a bit at the raised brow. in all honesty, some days he finds it hard to believe that particular thing happened, too but then, it's not much weirder than stark's experiment gone out of control and a robot army. ]

It won't make much more sense than the aliens but I'll give it my best shot.

[ if only because it means they are planning ahead towards something, if only because it means they are talking about something they will talk about, if only because he has the right to plan anything with her after all this time. ]

video.

video.

video.

video.

video.

video.

video.

video.

action »

action »

action »

action »

action »

action »

action »

action »

action »

action »

action »

action »

action »

action »

action »

action »

action »