tushanshu | Entries tagged with † peggy carter

[ Sharon takes a breath as she studies the feed before speaking. ] My name is Sharon Carter. SHIELD Agent 13.

They've explained to me that it's pointless to try and return home. [ Her brow furrows at that. Time may have stopped back home, but that doesn't mean anything to her. She hasn't stopped working since she brought Steve back from the dead. To think that she might now be cooling her jets as a part of some in-between near-death experience... Damn train. It must have blown up or something. But she should bitch about it to herself later. Back to the matter at hand. ]

I suppose I might as well get to know some of you, seeing as I don't know how long I'll be here.

Not every day I ride a giant turtle in the sunset.

[ She sighs and runs a hand through her hair. Her tone turns wry. ]

And I thought today was going to be weird.

subject223

[ The video turns on to a view of a man’s face, and those observant enough to notice nitpicky details might realize that this is a man who’s familiar with and comfortable using strange bits of technology. There’s no fear in his eyes, no outward confusion or panic. He looks calm and in control, and when he speaks, he sounds like it, too. ]

Hello. My name’s Steve Rogers and I just recently arrived from a city called New York. I was debriefed about the situation and I wanted to offer my help to anyone who needs it.

[ He pauses for a moment as he collects his thoughts. These days, it’s not often that he goes somewhere that people aren’t at least slightly familiar with who he is. Providing a brief resume is a somewhat novel experience. ]

I’ve been a soldier for a long time, but I’m also good with my hands. Construction, farming, hunting, good old-fashioned heavy lifting, I can help with that. I can speak a number of languages, too, if anyone needs translations done. I know I’m new, but I want to pull my weight. So if you know anyone who might need a hand with something, let me know.

[ Offering a faint smile, he gives the camera a short nod. ]

Thanks for your time.

rosenbridges

[ For at least...twenty seconds, Jane was absolutely certain that she'd managed to teleport herself to wherever she is right now. Once she'd come to her senses and listened with a kind of detached interest to the -- kedan? is that what they were called? -- explain to her where she was, she'd realized that the situation was much different than she'd originally thought.

She'd turned on the computer and scrolled through, taking note that she's not the only newbie. She hunches over her black notebook with her arm curled protectively around the leather bound pages as she scribbles. She looks up briefly, makes sure the audio/video is on, then continues writing without missing a beat.

Weird and abnormal? Now totally a staple in Jane's life.

Kind of. ]

Just curious – on average, what’s the usual time frame people arrive and how many appear at any given time? Would anyone be willing to compare any notes they might have about this? I'm really interested in how this keeps happening.

[ Rosenbridges and all.

She pauses in her writing just long enough to introduce herself. ]

I'm Dr. Jane Foster, by the way. [ Her pen wavers and she frowns. ] We're not dead, right?

tearsdownthesky

[When the video turns on, there sitting in the chair is a tanned, black haired, wild looking woman, with a glass of something in her hands. She's drumming her fingers against her arm from where it's crossed, a huge tribal tattoo decorating the arm. She certainly doesn't look happy to be here, but oddly enough, not that freaked out.

When she starts talking, her voice is quite distinctly Australian, but if you asked her where she was from, she'd certainly not reference 'Down Under'. The voice is also a little husky, harshened by the fact she's exhausted and had a drink to help quell her anxiety. Not that she'd ever admit to it.]

Seems like this place is fulla lost people, but not the people I'm lookin' for. [she pauses, taking a long drink from a glass she's holding. She seems strained, like she's frustrated it's have to even come to this, to stretching out and asking for help, and she's hesitant to start.]

Lady Luck is not shining on me today. [she gives a wry laugh, and takes another swig from her drink.]

Listen, I don't remember if I was here last time--I don't remember anything that happened last time--but if anyone remembers me, contact me as soon as you can. Especially you, Vanille. [She's secretly hoping that Vanille is the only one who answers. She doesn't know what she'd do if anyone else she knew did. Her sacrifice would have been for nought. They could be dust in the wind for all she knew.]

'Till then, somebody recommend a good bar. If I'm gonna be stuck here, I might as well enjoy myself and right about now, I really need to punch something.

emasculates

[Her tone is blunt, sharp, faintly accented. No preamble.]

We are here to fight a war. How many of you are remotely prepared?

[She's guessing like three. But then again, she has high standards for preparedness.]

doesthemath

[Wanda learned years ago how to hide her true feelings behind a calm, almost bored expression. She knew how to control her body language to seem relaxed when she wasn't, and how to rely on subtle nuances of tone to get her point across. So it's not difficult to hide the anxiousness and tension she feels in her Water sector suite. She's separated from her brother, really separated, for the first time in her life, and also from the team she's come to trust and rely on. In some ways, she even considered them her friends.

Lips pursed, she flips on the console in her suite and leans back in her chair, by all appearances entirely unruffled by her current circumstances. Dressed in her Ultimates uniform, she crosses one leg over the other and periodically takes sips from the glass of water in her hand.

Those familiar with her alternate universe counterpart might notice a striking resemblance to the Scarlet Witch they know. Though she's at least ten years younger, her hair darker and straighter, and her uniform entirely different, her face and bearing are remarkably similar.]

As it seems highly unlikely that our hosts have provided full and completely honest details about our situation here, I'd appreciate any insight you all may have, or information they may have neglected to to give me during their orientation.

[After a brief pause she continues, though the words are completely foreign to Wanda.]

It also appears to be required that I find work as well. Unless anyone's spoken to a man by the name of Fury recently, recommendations as to where I might begin looking would also be welcome.

[She ends the transmission without offering her name or listing any of her affiliations save that of Nick Fury. Those who know her will contact her, she's certain, and perhaps those familiar with Fury will as well. Anyone else she has no intention of enlightening any more than is absolutely necessary. Not until she gets a better impression of the climate of the city and the other foreigners living in it.]

withoutaworld

[ Rikki thought about going somewhere to do this anonymously, but what the hell, the people who matter are probably going to figure out (or worry) it's her anyway. So she's just sitting at her own console, face in her hands and not exactly looking at the screen. ]

So, uh... Oh, geez. [ Deep breath. ] Does anyone around here have pregnancy tests, or... I don't know, a way to tell with magic or something?

Please don't yell at me. I promise I'm kicking myself enough already.

nefertiri

( Evie is looking far more at home. She is, carefully, turning the pages of a large tome. Beside her, there is a lit candle. While some might find the flickering light bothersome, Evie is used to it. Within the various pyramids and tombs of Egypt, she depended on torches for light. Going back to electricity - even if it's available (she hasn't checked) - doesn't seem necessary.

After looking over one page, she marks her place with a strip of leather and looks up. )

I am making progress with the native's language. I stumbled across a poem that seemed to outline their alphabet yesterday. ( The alphabet is the bare bones of any language. She won't be able to do much with it, but it's a start. ) I don't mind sharing the information with anyone who might be interested.

( She shifts and picks up a spare piece of paper, tucking it into her bag. )

Aside from that, I think it's time I started exploring other sectors. Perhaps on foot would be best?

fearlessherosheart

[So, this transmission shows a well-dressed (if looking like she fell out of a Renfaire) woman with slightly pointed ears, one who is tall enough that her head is partially cut off in the video image. The undersized bag of groceries confirm that this isn't a matter of sitting too close to the console.]

This cannot be a week’s worth of provisions. It is hardly worth a day or two. Perhaps an Easterner or one of these kedan could live on this, but they are small, so clearly must eat less. Bah, everything here is undersized and cramped.

[Also, someone should really break it to her that a local week is seven days, not five as it is in Tazendra's home country. Before the shopkeepers do.]

One would think that the kedan would spend less time providing us with these sorcerous message devices, and in being ill-mannered to their guests, and more in arranging proper food supplies and their preparation. Cracks in the Orb, it cannot be that difficult to prepare bread. I have seen Srahi or Mica perform the task a thousand times.

Only, I haven't the faintest idea what is the first step. Ah, but I have been sending a message, so perhaps someone will offer their services?

virginprice

[He would rather do this by text, but his English is still very awkward and he doesn't think that everyone he needs to contact would be able to read d'Angeline. Thus, he sits pale but composed, hands folded on the console in front of him.]

I am very sorry to announce that Mademoiselle Favrielle nó Eglantine is no longer present on Tu Vishan. My heart goes out to all who knew her- she was a very good friend to me and to many others, I am certain.

[He looks down, remembering what he has to say next and taking a calming breath, and then looks back up.]

She has given me the ownership of her business, and I hope that everyone working for her now will continue to do so- if we could have a meeting in a day or two, I think that would be for the best.

In addition, she has left letters and gifts for some of those who remain. [He reads the list of names out carefully.] Nita, Stephanie, Kyle, Oliver, Bucky, Bruce, Dorian, Henry, Inara, Sep, Peggy, Amon- there is something for each of you. Please contact me so that we can make arrangements for its delivery.

I have also been instructed to tell any ladies of her acquaintance that they may have what they like from her wardrobe.

[He can't make himself smile right now, so he just nods.]

Again, I am sorry to be the one to deliver this news. I wish I did not have to.

usavatar

[He considered making this a voice or a text entry on the network for the sake of avoiding... well, people - but ultimately that would raise more questions with those who know him. Civilian clothes, calm demeanor, utterly meaningless political smile.]

I hope you're all faring all right with the changes in our environment and the requirements that puts on its population. I'm used to rationing, but I understand that it's probably and adjustment for those of you that are not.

Peggy and I had an idea about that - we wanted to see if there was any interest in a communal pot luck, periodic until things normalize.

Additionally, we wanted to see what people thought of a resource pool of food and nonperishables held in the... should I just call it a community center? That's how we'd like the space to serve during peacetime.

Um. [A small laugh.] Sorry, I lost my train of thought. As I was saying, we'd like to work on what amounts to a food bank for the duration of the rationing and possibly longer, if it proves useful and necessary. Donations are of course encouraged, particularly from those whose enterprises are not as effected by the restrictions currently in place.

[The empty warmth briefly dissipates, leaving Steve militant all out of proportion to what he says next.] To pre-empt those who think it's naive, ill-advised, et cetera, we would be monitoring the intake and distribution of goods to ensure that no single party exploits the generosity of contributors. I think as a charitable model it's a good one.

[He clears his throat and settles back in his chair.]

I'm not much good with plants, but if we could get space on the roof of the building, it might do some good to have a garden up there as well.

[100% JARVIS-assisted encryption to Evandau]

Sir. I would like to discuss, in person and at your earliest convenience, a potential threat to the safety of the Foreigner population. And also inquire after the well-being of Miss Namorita Prentiss, who you have in custody.

[ACTION FOR PEGGY]

[Done. He switches off the console and tilts his head back, inspecting the ceiling of the apartment with one of those vague and pointless realizations regarding how few people ever look up.

He scrubs his face with both hands and gets up, going to the kitchen to wet a cloth and press it against his face, then neck, mentally reciting passages from the books he'd read before Keeliai and snatches of songs to try and keep his thoughts from going back to the lab Natasha described and its contents. It doesn't work especially well.]

mopirates_moproblems

[From the moment's hesitation between when the mic clicks on and the speech begins, it's obvious that this individual isn't quite comfortable with the interface yet. Possibly because, despite the demonstration he received from the kedan, he's never encountered technology of this level before.]

If I understand correctly, this message will be accessible to all of you in this city. I apologize for the intrusion on your day.

[He sure does sound ridiculously stiff, even to his own ears. But really, how is one supposed to address an entire city population without any sort of proper introduction?]

I arrived quite recently, and I find myself in need of proper clothing before all else. My current garb is not appropriate for public wear. [Because there's a big hole through it. No blood, strangely, and the wound itself seems to be healed, but still. His coat, his waistcoat, and shirt are all torn. His cravat escaped, but he can hardly wear that and nothing else.] If anyone could provide guidance on where I might find appropriate garb, I would be very grateful. I believe I've been housed in the Water Sector, if that is relevant.

[This barely dips past the surface of his many questions, but enough for today.]

depicted

[Dorian posts from his Fire Sector suite, a transcription of some pages of books he found in the Emperor's library in hand. The transcription is, of course, in the local language, and that is why he speaks]

In the interest of actually being able to read anything useful we might come across, rather than puzzling over it like it's the Voynich manuscript, I thought it might be prudent to attempt to gather together the work of those of us who have been trying to crack the language. I know there are at least a few—if there are resources to be shared, then we may all make a bit more progress. [He has been working on this for some time, and it is audible in every stubborn syllable.] At the very least, it can't possibly hurt.

trainwrecked

[He knows something is afoot, after that message from the Emperor, and - he'll be over here offering a slight diversion. For people either staying safe or - well. Keeping an eye on the foreigners.]

Hi, all. Name's Sergeant Bucky Barnes, and since I figure there's a number of new people here who are still likely to get mixed up with the technology available, I though I'd offer some help.

If you want a bit of teaching about it from somebody who didn't grow up with computers and mobile phones and such, feel free to hit me up, either over these - the consoles - or directly in Wood sector, suite in tree WO-1A.

Bucky out.

Current Mood: halpful

inshiningarmor

[ Mandorallen is dressed in plainclothes, but he's holding his broadsword in view of the camera, stepped back a bit so that most of his body is in frame. ]

The recent calamity that hath befallen this place was a mortally dangerous one, as we all are keenly aware. And methinks it will not be the last -- it doth go without saying that there is something decidedly strange about this place, and none of us could pretend to understand its ways or those of the strange people who reside here. But one thing hath become clear: this place, friendly and idyllic though it may often be, can pose great danger to us. And not all unfortunate souls here are well-equipped to defend themselves.

So, fellow foreigners, I have a proposition for thee. I am well skilled in the arts of war; any man or woman who doth wish to receive instruction so that they may better defend themselves, and live to serve or fight another day, should do so as to contact me. I can offer lessons in swordplay and, though it is not my forté, hand-to-hand fighting. These lessons will come free of charge to those who might seek to learn, for I am loathe to rob thee of money for something so important.

controlledvariable

[The video starts slightly awkwardly, with a blur of movement and Steph reaching up to grab something from the top of the console. There's a bit of a struggle, some muttered words, until she's finally back in place, now with a squirming kitten in her arms.]

Right. Hi. [She smiles, looking a little overwhelmed; she's been chasing the cat around all morning.] I found this little one stuck up in a tree, and something tells me she's not a native.

I'm gonna guess she came from someone's home world, since I know other people got pets from home while on the mainland, but, uh, she doesn't have a collar or anything... [she was going somehere with that but she got a little distracted by the kitten trying to climb her arm.] This is my version of a 'Found' poster, I suppose. If she's yours - [Steph holds up the kitten to the screen, though it seems more interested in chewing on her fingers] - let me know, please.

[A beat, as the kitten wriggles out from her hands and runs off to go chase something around her suite. She lets it go, since she's already displayed it decently for the potential owner to see it] If it doesn't belong to anyone, then, um, I might need advice on how to look after a kitten, since apparently I've just acquired myself one.

[She's not sure how she feels about that, since she's already kind of fond of the thing, but also. cats. So she just gives a helpless looking shrug and turns off the feed.]

the_other_eight

( [To the members of the welcoming committee// Stark Encryption] )

[When the video feed comes on Pepper can be seen writing in her notebook. She really wishes that she could have a personal computer that she wasn't worried was bugged. Still, paranoid people can't have everything they want. There's a steaming mug of coffee sitting next to her with fish on it. They're painted on and look as if they're swimming around the mug.]

Seeing as things have settled down I wanted to again extend an invitation to the populous to join the Welcoming Committee. We're here to ensure new arrivals are given the information they need and seek in a kind and friendly manner. If you're interested please inquire within.

Also, I'm looking for a psychiatrist. One who happens to specialize in brainwashing and post traumatic stress disorder. If there's a possibility that your services would be of assistance please contact Pepper Potts.

( [Private to Tony // No encryption] )

histruename

[It's been a while since Hellboy's shown his face. Not since the zombie attack. Truth be told, he hasn't felt all that social over the last week or so. Liz is gone again. He's not really sure how he feels about that. But her absence has got him thinking, and too much thinking lead to old habits that really do die hard. He spends most of the week at the bottom of a bottle holed up in his living room, staring at the intricate star chart that had been given to him by a stranger. Trying to make sense of things. Just trying to figure out how this fits into the big picture.

He thinks a lot about Liz, and the seed of an idea she planted just before she disappeared. She'd wanted to start some type of Bureau here, and maybe that wasn't such a bad idea. If there's one thing the Foreigners needed, it was organization. And if there was one thing Hellboy needed, it was a distraction. This could very well be a recipe for both.

Though he's dubious of his actual organizational skills. His strategy for everything was almost always to plunge in head-first without any kind of preparation. He was nothing like Bruttenholm or even Manning, but he could damn well try. He'll do it for Liz.

So he cleans himself up a little, or about as much as Hellboy ever does, and puts on his best game face. (Which, when your face is mostly stuck like that, is never hard.)

The feed starts with a steady silence and a level, golden-eyed gaze. Then he realizes the thing is actually on and begins.

Here goes nothin'...]

Anyone who knew her, Elizabeth Sherman disappeared about a week ago.

[He can't say for certain she's back in their world. There's no way of telling that for sure. He tries not to think about it too hard.]

Before she left she proposed getting together an organization similar to the one we worked for back in our world here on the Turtle. For anyone who's not familiar, I'll give you a quick run-down.

It's called the Bureau for Paranormal Research and Defense, an organization that studies the paranormal around the world and is responsible for fighting off any big nasties that might pop up in the meantime. Ghosts, demons, vampires, you name it.

Most of our employees are researchers, like to paw through rotting manuscripts and study trolls. Me... they just send me in when things get messy. Though I've trained plenty of new agents before.

I'm not really the administrative type. So if anyone's willing to help get this off the ground, I'd appreciate it. What we really need are people interested in the actual research end of things. Though field agents aren't a bad thing either.

I know a few people spoke to Liz in her first message. I'd like to speak to them again if I can. Just let me know if you're interested and what you might be able to bring to the table. Maybe we might start making sense of this place.

[Yeah, this sure won't be his father's Bureau, but it might be something.]

memoriesinsmoke

[So this is awkward. Liz has never been very good at talking about business beyond "what do you need me to burn". Handling everyone as a group was always Kate's thing - but Kate isn't here, and Hellboy's skills with rounding people up usually leave something to be desired. So she's just going to put on her best poker-face and do this.

Thankfully, she's always been good at keeping a straight face.]

I'm sure something everyone's noticed about this place is that there's no shortage of paranormal things going on. Some of you may be used to it, while others probably aren't.

For those of you that don't know me, I'm Agent Elizabeth Sherman, and back home I work for the Bureau for Paranormal Research and Defense. Our job was to research, monitor, and investigate paranormal happenings around the world. ... And defend mankind from it, whenever it came to that. [Which it did. Very frequently.]

Considering the nature of this place, I thought it would be wise to try and put together something similar over here. That way the next time something happens, we'll have a group ready to take care of the problem without having to worry about civilians and other non-combatants getting caught up in the mess.

Of course, it's the Bureau for Paranormal Research and Defense. So along with fighters, we'll need people with knowledge of the paranormal - and who could maybe help with looking into finding more information about the nature of the things found in this world - people who can keep records of what's already happened... office kind of stuff, basically. [She does paperwork when she has to, but it's not her forte, okay.]

If you're interested, let me know your experience with this sort of thing and what you're planning to contribute, and we can work something out.

suoxi

[ the feed cuts on and Inara is positioned behind the console, smiling lightly with crimson lips pulled upwards as she regarded the camer thoughtfully. She is cleaned up and prepped for a public chat, hair dried and styled as well as she was able. ]

Good evening, everyone. My name is Inara Serra, and I have recently found myself a bit out of sorts with my arrival in this strange place. I would cry kidnapping, but I hardly think that is the case.

I was wondering - and hoping - that there might just be someone I know here. Please, if you recognize me, I would greatly appreciate if it you could respond.

Also, if anyone could perhaps explain a bit more about what this place is and how I might have come to be here - and why - I would also be greatly indebted to you.

Thank you.

[ she smiles once more as she waits for responses, should they come. ]

Tu Shanshu

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[video] Nowadays it is only the unreadable that occurs

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[Video] The first meeting of the welcoming committee

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