driftfleet | everybody's starstruck in june.

[Well, isn't that interesting? Rip had sensed a bit of hesitance on Peggy's part the first time they spoke of Steve, although in the end she'd been honest regardless. This time, suddenly, a simple cuppa draws her full attention away.

Funny how that works out.

But then a mistake is made, one Rip realizes readily when Peggy repeats his wording. The friction over placement of forks without napkins aside, he's willing enough to cop to that one--particularly if the implication that Rip stands as but the latest of her "poaching" stands true.]

Fortunate by design, then. [As Ray Palmer had once suggested: destiny being the resulting sum of their own choices. He arches an eyebrow then, quietly asking if that might be a more acceptable turn of phrase.

Good timing, too. Seems Rip now has the opportunity to what he may like of her. Far be it from him to bypass what's been offered. He mulls over what information he might press for as he takes a slow sip of tea, his gaze lingering on the cup as he sets it down a beat later.]

Your life prior to the Fleet, Miss Carter. [Because out of everything they'd touched upon, Peggy had been most reticent in this area. He keeps his fingers wrapped around the mug, though now he looks towards her.] I'm still rather curious as to what you did before you were drawn here.

Edited 2017-06-03 16:17 (UTC)

You'd like a rundown of my CV.

[ a huff of breath. peggy supposes she can't blame him -- neither of them have been terribly forthcoming, although she's at least gleaned enough from him to understand what value he might provide to the ship. by contrast, she knows, she's given him very little. and (to borrow his wording for a moment) that had been absolutely by design.

peggy delays just long enough to shove a few more unceremonious mouthfuls of egg into her face. she chews, she swallows, she bobs her head with apparent (if reluctant) concession. ]

That's the sort of thing could get me drawn and quartered -- back home. [ and if it sounds as though she's making light of the consequences, that's because she certainly is. it's all a bit moot, confidence-wise, once she realizes the things she'd long since refused to tell have otherwise passed into a matter of public record. ] I signed the Official Secrets Act. So you'll also forgive me my hesitation when it comes to this sort of discussion.

[ but! she's not saying this to deflect, for once. peggy pushes her plate to the left; the conversation just got serious. ]

How familiar are you with your mid-20th century history, Mister Hunter?

In a sense. [It might be truer to say he wants a better idea of her, given that Rip has arguably signed over his loyalty with that transfer. He has ideas, of course, ones rooted in her demeanor, her time period, the few hints she has dropped. But now Rip wants confirmation, both of what he already suspects and of the woman's character itself.

He's learned rather thoroughly just how little a crew appreciates secrecy in their captain after all, even if the captain deems such precaution necessary.

In the end, she gives away a great deal by mentioning the Official Secrets Act, and the way he looks up in recognition might provide ready reply to what she prompts from him next. Still, she doesn't seem intent on using it as an excuse for further avoidance. To that end, Rip nods.]

I've got a decent working knowledge of the period. [He's spent a significant amount of time there, over various visits. It's a rather popular era for amateur time pirates who mistakenly believe that war might cover any aberrations they could cause.] At least as it existed in my universe.

[ -- so he knows. well, that's easy enough. peggy surmises that if he understands the legal bindings involved with her work, then maybe he'll overlook how vague she's likely to be. it's different when discussing these matters with steve -- or natasha, or any of the so-called avengers. peggy understands their clearance level; she understands they're likely levels above where she sits, back home.

not so rip hunter. heaven knows what a space captain from the future needs to know about old (antique) tradecraft secrets. but she's talked with enough people from even the twenty-first century to whom some matters of basic covert ops had turned into the stuff of movie scripts.

so she talks more freely, maybe, than she ought to. ]

There's the war, of course. I served. And I spent most it as a British liaison with the SSR. [ she reaches for her tea. peggy won't say from which british agency she'd been liaising from -- depending how much rip knows, he'll narrow them down neatly. mi5, maybe. or churchill's special operations executive.

(truthfully, it's both).

there's a clipped quality to her recitation. clearly, she doesn't like saying this much -- but rip's crew, now. and it's better coming from here than waiting for it to be forced to the surface through some glitch or loose lip. ]

It stands for the Strategic Scientific Reserve. I'm well aware of this agency's unique existence within my own 'world', Mister Hunter. Unless we're from the same place, I rather doubt you've heard of it. But I did have a fellow aboard the Starstruck for some time who was able to compare notes. He'd decided what I call the SSR has a sort of analog in other universes -- commonly called the OSS. After the war, I stuck with them.

[ and there you have it. peggy didn't follow any particular person back to the states; she'd followed the job. ]

Edited 2017-06-03 17:27 (UTC)

[He listens, respectfully silently as Peggy spells out so much more than she'd been willing to share in their earlier encounters. As is so often the case, the answers themselves provide ironic context for her reticence, and more. While she may not detail every assignment or her precise position, the organization that led her down the path to the SSR, as she calls it?

Rip still doesn't consider it truly vague--though that is perhaps fueled as much by his own ability to draw connections and fill in blanks.

He toys with his cup where it sits on the table, idly turning it in his hand even as he leans back where he's seated. She explains the one bit he doesn't know right away, confirming for Rip that they aren't from the same world--and that does give him a great deal more to think about. Thus far he's been secretive about the source of so much of his knowledge of the past, claiming himself a former captain of a space ship, although that's not quite right in the end.

As of yet, he doesn't know how much of that truth he might share, but--the honesty she provides does make him consider showing the same.]

You're right: I hadn't heard of the SSR. The OSS, however, I have. [Her version, however, put science right at it's fore. Perhaps it might press too much, yet Rip again wants to test his conclusions--and perhaps to affirm that indeed, she is willing continue being truthful, as far as this goes.]

You mentioned that Mr. Rogers was something of a military experiment. [The the narrow frame described by Peggy that day at the shop had been transformed into the--well, the specimen running on the treadmill through use of science. It's not difficult to draw a line between the two, and it would make sense.

What better project for a wartime effort than to design a perfect soldier.]

[ peggy frowns. can she begrudge him his steering of the conversation back to steve rogers? had she been on his side of the table, his side of the interrogation, she very well might have done the same. rather than let it needle her, she once again reminds herself that rip's ability to tether one fresh revelation to an older one can only make the ship stronger -- no matter what her personal frustrations with how it works against her now.

when she takes a drink, it's to near-drain the mug. this, too, she sets aside. ]

I'll go a step further. Captain Rogers -- [ she uses his 'rank' from home, though certainly not the code-name. never that. ] Was something of a military success. One that was never repeated.

[ not by the ssr, at any rate. she seems proud of it. ]

I was attached to that project, yes, and others. [ she'd proven herself far comfortable discussing the punishment for breaking the official secrets act than she is now, trying to articulate the broad strokes of space around steve rogers and her association to him. ] The allies owe a great deal to Rogers and his men. I understand the war gets won with or without them, in other 'worlds', but they were rather instrumental in ours.

[ she won't go so far as to claim that description for herself; let her work speak for her. ]

Another Captain? [He knows rather little of Steve, aside from a single meeting and what Peggy's said. Perhaps it's a military rank, but Rip remembers well that ships might have multiple people at their head. It's good to clarify, particularly since it would affect his present situation.

There's no further interruption after that. She rightly guesses so much of what he might want to know with that single statement, and again, offers it up freely. Once more her words turn to praise of Steve, though notably, not of her own efforts. Out of humility, confidence, or guilt?

Or some combination thereof.]

Does that mean you knew Mr. Wilson as well? [One of Steve's men, perhaps, given that Peggy had earlier described them as friends. It stands to reason Peggy might have met him along the way.]

[ her head shakes. ] Not here -- apologies, but I'm more accustomed to using Steve's army titles. He prefers not to use the rank here in the Fleet; I likely shouldn't have said it at all. Here, he's -- Steve. I'm certain he'll tell you as much in his own time.

[ because captain america is no more, in effect. the shield has been hung up and the mission has changed. peggy isn't sad to see it go, but she's sad to see it go like this. fading into infamy; hunted and a fugitive. but she knows that's not her story to tell. it never will be.

so she's grateful when rip brings up a different question. even this one, by contrast, seems like a easy lob compared to the question of whether steve was a captain or not. ]

Before the fleet? No. We'd never met.

[ -- peggy doesn't offer than answer any more flesh than that. ]

Edited 2017-06-03 18:39 (UTC)

[He's quick to wave a hand.] No apologies necessary. I simply wanted to be clear on how things were organized aboard the ship. [Although he does pause once more when she says he's just Steve.] It's likely he will--although I don't drop the habit of address easily.

[He's been raised properly, after all.

Rip's willing enough to believe the matter of Sam as it stands--largely because he hasn't equated Sam Wilson with the Sam of the twenty-first century, who'd rather wished he'd been trapped on something called the Food Network instead of here. Peggy's been forthcoming thus far, even when it comes to things that she's proven reluctant about.

Thus, he's got no reason to believe anything is amiss.

Rip finishes off his tea as well. Now might be a convenient time to rise, break the conversation in favor cleaning up or whatever other excuse he might find. But with her cards on the table as they are, Rip does feel a pull to offer something of the same.

Besides--she is the Captain. She should be aware of the resources at her disposal. So with a drawn in breath, and a glance towards the door to ensure they are, in fact, still alone, Rip begins to tell a truth that he hasn't given so freely to anyone in this Fleet before now.]

In the interest of full disclosure, I must confess: I haven't been fully honest with you about my profession, either.

Edited 2017-06-03 18:50 (UTC)

[ -- in the middle of it all, there's room for a slight smirk. she understands the habit; she suffers from much the same. nevertheless, the casual nature of many in the fleet finds a way to overcome the way they'd like to address those around them. there comes a point where courtesy hinges on calling someone what they want to be called.

(the thought makes her miss winn. she sets that sorrow aside. now's not the time.)

rip glances at the door and peggy begins to worry she might've said all she's said without any chance of quid meeting quo. he puts that fear quite quickly to bed with his next few sentences. peggy nods. ]

I think I would have had to been a fool to believe you were. [ fully honest. he knows what she's been, now -- although no one's said the word 'spy'. she's often prepared for someone to be anything other than what they say they are. ]

But if you're about to tell me you've not actually been captain of a spaceship, Mister Hunter, I think I shall be very cross with you.

[ after all, that was part of why she'd asked him aboard the starstruck. ]

[It's fair to expect something from him, after all of that. Equally, for her to have assumed Rip still kept some things hidden. He had, after all, promised a certain talent for keeping secrets. Yet even with that in mind, not to mention the serious nature of their conversation, he can't help but fight off a grin when she promises to be very cross should her assumption about his job be a lie.

Only because technically? It is.]

I suppose we'll simply have to see. [Now it's his turn to wonder just how much to tell. Once upon a time it would have been easier--but so much has changed over the past few years. Too much, to make any of this simple.]

It's true that I was a captain, and of a ship capable of traveling through space. Just not a spaceship, precisely.

[A play on words, but one rooted in truth. After all, the Waverider's primary function had not been to traverse the stars.]

It was, in fact, a timeship.

Edited (typos!!!!!) 2017-06-03 19:04 (UTC)

[ oh hell. ]

A timeship.

[ she echoes his clarification, doing absolutely nothing to avoid a frown. now -- peggy's got no experience in this wheelhouse apart from the rather obvious complications stemming from being a woman from one era surrounded by people from many, many others. and perhaps that's what makes this sprung revelation that much worse; after all, when they'd first met, she'd sparred a little too willingly over questions of history, of the future, and of what influences both. it now blindsides her that the argument might have held a professional bent for rip hunter. ]

Good Lord. [ she allows herself a bit of marvel and dismay. ] That's exactly what it sounds like, isn't it?

[ once upon a time, she might have been plagued with doubt. not so much now; she's learned too much. heard too much. seen too much. ]

[For Rip's part? He does at least attempt to temper his amusement. There's often something delightful in seeing that mix of amazement and yes, even annoyance that comes when a person is confronted with a possibility that exists beyond the limits of their own understanding. Particularly so, as Rip has discovered, when it's rooted in something he knows quite well.]

Exactly what it sounds like, yes.

[He'll pause there. Give Peggy a minute, if she needs it.]

[ she needs a beat, at least, but not a minute entire. what brushes she's had with the concept are almost entirely constrained to sam winchester's wild stories -- or things mentioned in the marginalia of other conversations. or, of course, her own wildest imagination.

(secret hopes, too, when she considers what might be done to save bucky barnes. save steve rogers. but peggy doesn't need to think long nor hard to realize that's the sort of thing one absolutely does not tell the captain of a timeship -- especially one who's so particular about where another person puts her bloody fork.)

peggy wishes she hadn't already finished her tea. bloody hell. ]

And how does one gain the rank of captain on a -- on one of those?

[ crumbs, she isn't going to say it again. ]

[Then it's Rip's turn to give consideration to his answer, specifically in regards to how much he wants to tell. In the past it would have been rather easy to spell out, and perhaps it still is--except what he offers, in the end, no longer stands as presently true.

Certainly no one would be gaining the rank in the same manner Rip had. Not anymore.]

I've been trained for it most of my life, actually. [He can answer her question in spirit, at least; Rip suspects Peggy's rather after his CV this time anyway.] As part of an organization which was created to protect the sanctity of history called the Time Masters. So a great deal of study and education, countless hours of simulation and practical training both, and a proven capacity to act in accordance to what history demanded, when faced with the dilemmas so often inherent when it comes to time travel.

[ in the end, she chooses to stomach the story. although it's certainly odd, peggy's had occasion to hear weirder since her arrival. there's no means by which credentials can be checked or verified. there's little more to vouchsafe for a person except other people. but, in rip's case, she's got her gut.

-- he mentions study, education, training. and peggy's beginning to understand that his ability to pick up on the empty spaces in her answers isn't merely an academic inclination on his part. if her eyes narrow now, then it's because this the moment where she realizes he's been cooking with more gas than he's been letting on.

good for him; it's not often she's so completely gobsmacked from deep in bloody left field. ]

'Dilemmas so often inherent' to time travel. [ crikey, that's putting it likely. just by virtue of lagging behind everyone else, she can already imagine a few headaches. goddamn, and she'd made a joke about morlocks, once, too.

it's a wonder her cheeks don't redden. ]

What a rubbish name, by the way. [ time masters. almost as bad as the avengers. piffle. ] Has anyone told you that?

[Whether or not she ultimately believes him (though how could she not, given all she must have seen during her tenure in the Fleet), Rip suspects that this extra bit of knowledge helps fill in more than a few gaps for her, much in the same way Peggy's earlier confession had done for him. Yet whatever puzzles might be solved within her thoughts go largely unspoken. Instead she picks up one turn of phrase--one which, given an earlier discussion, Peggy might have been better off leaving alone.]

Indeed. Say, for example, learning of a future one wishes to somehow change. The impact of decisions that seem minuscule could in fact alter the entire fate of a world. One wrong fact that a person learned, perhaps from being trapped with those who hale from some seventy years in her future, let's say.

[No, Rip isn't going for subtle. He wants Peggy to know, without doubt, that he didn't believe the rationale she gave for not wanting to remember anything she might have picked up while trapped here.

He still doesn't.]

I've heard commentary to that effect, yes. [Regarding the name. None of the Legends had been particularly impressed, and understandably less so once they learned the full truth of what the Time Masters intended. Rip, at that point, couldn't blame them.] All I can give in answer is that I'm not the one who chose it.

[ -- not subtle. not one bit. her lip juts (a moment) and it looks as though she's fighting back the urge to be less than cordial. it's purely defensive; he'd had her more on the ropes than she'd ever first guessed. ever incisive question had been more than mere curiousity. it ruffles her, now. she's ruffled.

and this is who she's invited onto her ship. well! she's made her bed. time to lie in it. ]

Yes, Mister Hunter. Your point is noted. [ if not taken.

but she believes him and his profession have come far too late. she's learned things she can't ever unlearn -- not so long as her mind is her own and she persists in the fleet. not only does she know the high (and low) points of her own career, but she's been able to trace back dominoes long before they've fallen. she's met a dear friend's grown son. she knows (beyond a shadow of a doubt) that she will see steve rogers again before the end.

maybe they're all wrong facts, made wronger still by how soon she's learned them. ]

Good Lord. [ peggy draws an open palm down her cheek. might as well be frank: ] You're going to hate it here.

[ here, aboard the starstruck. she almost feels guilt for having brought him on. the decent thing would be to give him an out. ]

[His mouth draws into a line, and Rip lowers his head briefly. Noted, and that's rather all he suspects he can expect in this scenario. Rip's no fool. Peggy's been here over a year and a half by her own admission, and more than long enough to have opportunity to speak with who knows how many people from the future. Equally, she's clever; more than smart enough to know what to ask and how to charm the answers she seeks.

And she'd made a point of hiding her desire, besides. Of course she couldn't know at the time that she spoke to someone who knows intimately just how human the wish is to be able to alter the course of history--but Rip doesn't, in the end, see this as a point in Peggy's favor.

He can only wonder if some measure of better judgment might prevail, should she return to her world with all her knowledge in tact.]

Spoken as if I don't already. [Though the comment on Rip's part is meant more towards the situation and the Fleet as a whole, rather than any that might exist on the Starstruck specifically. Yet Peggy hasn't offered up that tidbit without intention, Rip knows, and a moment later he motions towards her with a hand.]

Well? You might as well go on. Honestly, it's not really going to be a shock to hear things are somehow worse than they seem.

[ well. in for a pound, as they say. ]

I told you I had a way of telling whether someone was from my world or not -- I lied. Not about having a way, no, that's quite true. But I allowed you to believe it was something as simple as a military unit's existence. [ the howling commandos, last time they sat here in this kitchen. and the ssr today. but that's not nearly enough to make her feel certain of the things she knows. ]

-- I know how long it takes for the SSR to break down and dissolve. I know about the agency which replaces it. I've met a handful of its operatives, here in the Fleet. I've also met a man older than myself who nevertheless was the only son of a dear friend of mine -- back home. [ she clears her throat. ] I know in what year I die. And I'm fairly convinced our new engineer attended the service.

If this sort of thing offends your professional sensibilities, you'd best say so now. [ ... ] I'm certain another ship will be just as pleased to have you aboard if that's the case.

[ peggy hasn't come near describing the worst of it -- she likely never will, because it treads on something too personal and painful. but she doesn't need to tell him the worst; she only needs to paint a broad picture of what she's managed to learn in her time within the fleet.

so -- stoically -- peggy offers him an out. she shows it poorly, but she rather hopes he won't take it. ]

Edited 2017-06-03 21:08 (UTC)

[It's a rather long list, in the end. Peggy rather tidily recites tidbits she's had opportunity to learn in this rather messed up scenario they're now both trapped in, things no person should be privy to. And had Rip been pulled from even two or three years prior in his own timeline, if his life hadn't yet unraveled so completely?

His professional sensibilities, as she says, would have been quite outraged indeed.

He doubts that's all of it, which she sputters out. Peggy has from the start been careful about what she reveals, choosing the points where it served her to yield with one hand while keeping secrets carefully tucked into the palm of the other. And if even knowing of her death feels like a safe thing to add to her armor, in the effort of sequestering the rest?

Rip dreads to think of what else she may know.

But he does consider the warning implicit in the words. The offer, in a sense, to walk away now before this goes any further.]

There's no changing what either of us knows, Miss Carter. [What dates and facts she's picked up, or that Rip now stands aware of it.] If anything, my duty as a Time Master would compel me to stay, and find some way to fix the potential aberrations.

[And yet. He taps fingers lightly against the table, his gaze shifting to a harmless spot on its surface. He's not a man to reveal things lightly--yet Rip equally doesn't want his occupation to become a point of contention.

Not so overt of one that he can't potentially find some way, eventually, to convince her of why she should let the future proceed as it is meant to in her world.]

But I'm not a Time Master, not here. I'm--[he sighs with a frustration that's rather genuine]--a bloody cook, and the back-up pilot in case of emergencies.

Unless you wish to change that, of course.

[ aberrations. it's too specific a word to ignore -- peggy doesn't doubt it falls into the realm of jargon. occupational parlance, the way she might equally say the word 'asset' under other circumstances. she's not certain she likes it applied to herself or to the modicum of peace she's managed to scrounge into existence. but she knows better than to take it personally.

especially -- especially -- when she gets what she wants, in the end. even if it comes at the expense of his frustration and dignity. peggy empathizes. she knows a little of what it's like to be one thing and then, in its way, try and adjust to being something completely different. she'd bucked against it; doubtless, he will too. ]

You're those things, yes. [ a cook. a pinch hitter. peggy abhors sentimentality, but sometimes it's necessary to carve out a sense of place and belonging -- especially in a unit. so, after clearing her throat: ] But if you choose to stay then you'll also be a member of this crew. And as such, your -- [ oh, she doesn't want to use the word 'comfort', it sounds so downy-soft and honey-sweet ] -- your satisfaction as a member of this crew matters.

You realize yours is an augment than can still be changed, yes?

[ it's nothing she'd consider for herself, but perhaps rip doesn't know about what options are available to him. ]

[She calls him a member of her crew so easily, and for a moment, a ghost of a smile crosses Rip's lips. It's not unlike the way Sara had proclaimed Rip a Legend, after months spent believing himself anyone but Captain Rip Hunter--and a return that saw him relinquish the title to her, both in that moment and once more in the end.

When he'd walked off of a ship he'd so long thought of his. Which he still does now, out of old habit and a need to keep his explanations to others simple.]

I'm aware. [Because of the damn augment itself, in fact. Rip knows that his deep loathing for the position he's been forced into could be altered into one that, on the surface, might be a bit more palatable. An actual pilot, or engineer, perhaps. But there's also a reason he's decided against it, and Rip takes in a breath before returning his gaze to Peggy.]

But they've already taken their liberties with my mind; I'm in no way inclined to invite them to do so again. [A small and useless rebellion, maybe, but it might just be the only damn say Rip has.] Equally, I'm not one to shirk my responsibilities. I'd want to learn the functions of the ship regardless, and as for the cooking...

[That eternal sticking point--except it perhaps isn't. While the idea of it still gnaws away at him, Rip isn't unaware of the moments of satisfaction he's found. Peggy had finished her breakfast, after all.] I suspect there will come a point where I don't mind it nearly so much.

[ she nods along with his answer. although she mayn't know him well enough to predict his reaction, she knows enough about herself to understand the same reasons why she'd refuse a similar 'solution'. one that isn't a solution at all, in the end, as it only reaffirms the atroma's ownership of their very brain matter. a chilling, unenviable position in which they've all found themselves. they must take what defiance they can, provided it's not against their fellow captives. ]

I imagine it's frustrating. [ peggy allows, although she understands there's great room for her sympathy to be taken poorly. ] I've been -- God, dare I say fortunate? -- to be assigned an augment roughly in-line with what I know.

[ and it occurs to her that she has yet to divulge hers. it's no secret -- perhaps he may already have found it out if he'd gone poking through the ship's systems. ]

Before I became captain, I was the Starstruck's communications officer. [ a beat. ] Still am, really. We haven't got another.

[ which means she (on occasion) works considerably more than is healthy. ]

[He's grateful at least for that understanding. While nothing Peggy might have said would have swayed Rip to change his mind, he'd much rather avoid any argument whose opposing stance would ultimately rely on a foundation of well it's there anyway, so why not take advantage of it?. There are too many who seem content to linger on in this cluster of ships, who manage to find happiness and in turn, settle within the cluster.

He doesn't want any part of it. Especially not in the wake of the Atroma's little stunt regarding Dreadhorse.

Ah, but she picks at his choice of words again—rightfully so, and Rip accepts that slight knock with silent grace. He's able to make a guess at her augment given the new context of her profession and that it apparently matches, leaving him nodding as she admits to the role.]

Certainly it can't be easy. [He's got some sympathy for the plight of being overworked—but only some.] Time Masters are trained to be able to function on their own, right down to captaining their ships. I had quite an effective AI at my disposal, but I needed to know how to pilot, make repairs, communicate across frequencies in time and space, man the weaponry—

[So in other words, literally any other augment would have suited Rip's skills better.]

everybody's starstruck in june.

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