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imjustthemechanic · 4 years ago

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The Price of a Soul

Part 1/? - Agent Russel Part 2/? - The Letter

Of course Agent Russel isn’t who she said she was... but who is she really? And what is the significance of the letter she left in Peggy’s purse?

It wasn’t until she was packing up her things to head home at the end of the day that Peggy noticed the envelope.

Peggy was used to finding envelopes on her desk – it had taken her a while to find a proper apartment in Los Angeles, so she’d used the SSR office as her address and still got mail there. Her colleagues also left things for her. But this wasn’t on her desk or even in her desk, it was in her purse, which had been sitting next to her desk all day, except for when it had been sitting next to Daniel’s desk in his office while she spoke with Agent Russel. Peggy didn’t recall anyone coming near it, but then, she hadn’t been paying that much attention. What she was sure of was that there had been no envelope in it when she’d left home that morning.

She pulled it out. There was nothing written on it and the flap was not sealed. Inside was a single sheet of typing paper. Peggy unfolded it, and found two typewritten lines of numbers:

74 47 35 95 25 03

Below them was a quickly scrawled drawing of a five-pointed star with two circles around it.

Peggy’s breath caught. Her first instinct upon just seeing the numbers was, of course, that it represented some kind of code or cipher, but noticing the star… perhaps she was biased, but she was fairly sure that represented Captain America’s shield. And if it did, maybe the numbers were far simpler than a code. Maybe somebody knew where the Valkyrie had crashed. Ninety-five degrees was a long way to the west, and seventy-four was further north than Howard had ever looked.

Who had left her this? Her initial idea was that it must have been Russel, but why would Russel do that and where would she have gotten such information? If she had it, wouldn’t she give it to Daniel or to Chief Thompson in New York, or even to the joint chiefs or the president, rather than to Peggy Carter? Everybody thought of her in association with Captain America, yes, but she’d been a comparatively minor figure in his career. Maybe it was some kind of trap or a distraction? But why do that? It seemed entirely incompatible with Russel’s goal. But if not her, who?

She folded the page up again. She was getting ahead of herself, wasn’t she? She didn’t yet know what those numbers meant. Possibly she was jumping to conclusions. She needed a map or a globe. Peggy did not own one personally. There was a large map of North America on one wall of the SSR office, but she didn’t want anyone seeing her poring over that and asking why. Perhaps a public library? But what if she were followed?

Remaining calm, Peggy put the page back into the envelope and the envelope into her purse. She gave Daniel a kiss and wished him good night, and said goodbye to Rose on the way out, as if she were simply going home at the end of a tiring day and nothing was wrong in the world.

She did not go home, however. She went to Howard Stark’s house.

Howard himself wasn’t home, but Edwin Jarvis answered the door and looked delighted to see Peggy, as he always was. The man never seemed to learn.

“Agent Carter,” he said with a smile. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I’m afraid it’s a business call,” said Peggy. “I need to borrow a book.”

“Of course, come right in,” Jarvis said, standing aside. “I’ll make tea. Can I interest you in a slice of apple torte? Anna has the dog outside, so there’s no need to fear an immediate assault upon entering the kitchen.”

Peggy smiled – the Jarvises had recently acquired a Bernese Mountain Dog puppy, which Anna had named Zoltan. It was already twice the size it had been when they brought it home and showed no signs of slowing down, while having no idea that it was already much too big to fit in a human lap. Anna adored the monster, and Edwin pretended to be annoyed with the amount of hair it shed, but could not bring himself to truly dislike an animal that made his wife so happy.

“Thank you, Mr. Jarvis, apple torte sounds lovely.”

In the library she quickly found what she was looking for – an enormous leather-bound Atlas of the World, the sort of book Howard bought because he was supposed to have one and then never looked at because he had the entire geography of the earth memorized already. Mr. Jarvis brought her pie and tea while she flipped pages, until she found one showing the islands of Northern Canada.

She took the paper out again and spread it out. Seventy-four and a half degrees north was… just about there, and ninety-five degrees west was… just off the coast of Cornwallis Island, a place choked by sea ice for nearly the entire year. As she’d suspected, it was very far north of where they’d thought the Valkyrie might have gone down based on its last known trajectory. Perhaps they’d underestimated the speed of the craft?

Could it really be? Could somebody have simply handed her the location of Steve Rogers’ body?

The only way to find out would be to look… but looking would be a big undertaking, with people and ships and winter gear. Peggy did not yet have nearly enough information to start something like that. Before she could even begin she had to find out who had given her these coordinates, where that person had gotten them from, and how many other people might know about them. For all she knew, this was some kind of trap.

“Agent Carter?” asked Mr. Jarvis, coming to collect her empty teacup. “Have you found what you needed?”

“I believe I’ve made a start,” Peggy replied. “May I use the telephone?”

“Of course,” he said.

She pulled out the card Agent Russel had given her, and asked the operator for the number. The phone rang… and then rang again… and rang again. Peggy waited with increasing impatience until it had rung twelve times, and then hung up. Maybe Russel was still busy, or perhaps she’d gone out for dinner or something. There were plenty of explanations that didn’t involve her deliberately avoiding Peggy, and Peggy would not improve the situation by becoming paranoid.

She put the envelope back in her purse, thanked Mr. Jarvis, and headed home again.

When she arrived, she rang Russel’s number again but still got no answer. This was annoying for several reasons, not the least of which was that Russel would be the easiest suspect to eliminate. Peggy could just ask Russel about it, while her colleagues were a different matter. If she asked the wrong person and they weren’t the culprit, they might spread the news around and then there would be a big fuss over what might turn out to be nothing. Peggy didn’t want that.

It did occur to her that this might just be a ploy to distract her from looking for Dottie so that somebody else could take the credit. That would have been infuriating if Peggy hadn’t long ago let go of caring who got credit for saving the world just so long as it ended up saved.

Before she turned in that evening, Peggy did try one last time to telephone Russel and still got no response. She told herself not to get cranky about it. She’d only met this woman yesterday, and an FBI agent was doubtless busy… especially a woman, who would have to be twice as good as the men to get half the respect. Peggy herself could be almost impossible to contact sometimes. Howard, Mr. Jarvis, Angie, and even Daniel had all complained of it. When it was time to panic, she told herself as she shut off the lights, she would know.

As it turned out, the time for panic was around four o’clock the following morning, when Peggy was awakened from a sound sleep by her phone ringing. She turned the light back on and picked up the receiver.

“Hello?” she asked.

“Peggy?” it was Daniel. “Did I wake you up?”

“I should say you did – do you know what time it is?” she asked, having to turn her alarm clock in order to find out for herself. Ten past four. If Daniel were calling her now, it was something serious. “What’s going on?”

“They found Agent Russel,” he said.

Peggy’s heart went into her throat. “She’s dead?” That had not been an expected outcome.

“No…” Daniel said. “The woman who came to see you yesterday wasn’t Agent Russel. Agent Nedrick Russel has been found tied up in the trunk of a car at the airport.”

Having only just leaped, Peggy’s heart now sank, all the way down to the floor and possibly through it into the apartment below. “Bloody hell,” she said.

“Can you meet us at the police station?” asked Daniel.

“Absolutely.” Peggy threw aside the covers and stood up. “Give me a moment to get ready.”

She hung up without saying goodbye, because now was not a time for pleasantries. In the washroom to give her hair a quick comb and put on makeup as best she could, Peggy caught her own eye in the mirror and scowled.

“Bloody bugger,” she declared. “Bloody, bloody bugger.”

She might not know what was going on with the mysterious envelope, but she now knew in her gut exactly what had happened yesterday and it was not at all nice. Peggy had always been as lenient as she could with Dottie Underwood, though that wasn’t very, because she knew Dottie had been brought up by cruel people who’d twisted her into a monster. The same was doubtless true of this woman calling herself Nadine Russel… but Peggy was going to have a much more difficult time trying to be kind.

When Peggy arrived at the station near the airport, dressed and groomed but definitely not looking her best, a police officer escorted her into a room where three men from the SSR, including Daniel, and several more police were standing around watching a man devour a ham sandwich. He was in his early fifties, with graying dark hair and a chisel-straight nose, wearing a white shirt with sweat stains under the arms, his tie and his blue plaid blazer draped over the back of his chair. His audience didn’t seem to interest him at all. He was entirely focused on his food.

“Agent Russel?” asked Peggy.

The man glanced up at her, then quickly swallowed his mouthful and washed it down with half a glass of water. He’d clearly been imprisoned in the car trunk for some time, and it had left him both hungry and dehydrated. “You must be Agent Carter,” he said. “This isn’t how I pictured us meeting.”

“Nor I,” said Peggy. She looked at the police. “You questioned him?”

“Yes, Ma’am,” said the nearest man. “He says he was having a drink at the Coconut Club when a pretty blonde came up and started flirting with him, and the next thing he remembers was coming to locked in the trunk of his car. His wallet and his briefcase are both missing.”

Peggy had heard of the Coconut Club, though she’d never been there. It was a fairly swanky pub not too far away from the airport. “Do we have a description of the suspect?”

“We’ve got a sketch artist on his way,” the policeman promised.

“She was about so tall,” said Russel with his mouth full, holding his hand at the height of his shoulders to suggest a woman significantly shorter than he. “Blonde hair, blue eyes, great skin, nails like a tiger. Black dress with a little bolero, and a choker necklace with a great big rock on it.” He pointed to his adam’s apple to suggest where that had sat.

“Did she give her name?” Peggy asked.

“She said it was Katherine. Told me to call her Kay,” Russel said. “You’re not going to tell Alice, are you?”

Peggy rolled her eyes, and Daniel looked like he badly wanted to. “Agent Russel,” he said, “the SSR wants to know who this woman is and why she’s interested in finding Olga Barynova. We don’t care where your wife thinks you were last night.”

Russel had been about to bite into his sandwich again. Now he hesitated. “You mean Underwood? She’s got a real name now?”

“Was that not in the information your assailant took from you?” asked Peggy.

“No…” said Russel. “No, we’ve got a list of her aliases but none of them were Russian.”

Peggy had already been fairly sure this mysterious Miss Kay must be from the same organization as Dottie herself… now she suspected she knew it for certain. Had she assumed that the SSR already knew Dottie’s real name? Or had she only called her that by mistake? Either way, she’d covered for herself very quickly.

Had Kay gotten the coordinates from Russel? Peggy would have to find a more private moment to ask him. In the meantime, she took out the business card her visitor had given her yesterday, and showed him the number.

“Does this telephone number mean anything to you, Agent Russel?” she asked.

His mouth was once again full. He shook his head.

“Then that’s where I’d like to start,” said Peggy. Maybe Kay hadn’t thought they would find the real Russel so soon, and was expecting Peggy to try to contact her. Or maybe it had only been a ruse, to keep Peggy from being suspicious. She offered the card to one of the policemen. “Would somebody mind tracing this for me, please?”

The man looked at Daniel, who nodded. “Do it,” he said.

“And I’ll want to speak to the sketch artist, myself,” Peggy added. At the moment it was technically only a suspicion that ‘Nadine’ and ‘Kay’ were the same person, but it would be nice to have it confirmed. Then she could decide what she would try to do next.

#fanfic #captain america #agent carter #peggy carter #steve rogers #steggy #fix it fic

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jaskiers-sweetkiss · 4 years ago

Text

Bombshell [B. Barnes] - 2

Pairing: British SHIELD Agent!Reader x Bucky Barnes

Warnings: swearing, (legal) alcohol consumption, explosions, memory loss, mentions of past trauma, mentions of death

Work Count: 5.8K

See end for Author’s Notes.

Masterlist Previous Part

___

"Agent Y/L/N, what's your status?" the concerned voice crackled over the coms. "Y/L/N check in."

You huffed, rolling your eyes as you took out a guard.

"Jesus Rogers, we split up less than two minutes ago. I'm fine."

"I'm sorry for being concerned," Steve muttered sarcastically under his breath, the coms barely picked it up and you bit back a laugh, trying to remain stealthy.

You peaked your head around the corner, peering into the large room before you to ensure that it was empty. Once you were sure it was clear, you made your way around what appeared to be a storage room, checking for any objects of importance or secret passageways. As you cleared each wall, you made sure to slap a small disk to each one.

"Y/N, we're at the quinjet, what's your status?" Natasha came over the coms.

"Just finishing up down here Nat," you replied lightly, making your way back to the stairs, slapping a few more disks in the hallway for good measure. "Who's 'we'?"

"Steve and me."

You sighed, equal parts worried and relieved. "Wilson, what's your position?"

"Couple Nazis on the roof, I've got it covered," Sam responded with a grunt.

"Take them out quickly, please," you ordered, holding your position on the stairs. "I'm activating the bombs and we'll only have a couple of minutes to get out of here."

"Yes ma'am," Sam answered, and you almost thought you could hear him mock salute you, "Will you have enough time?"

"What do you take me for?" You gasped, offended, "an amateur?"

Sam barked out a laugh and you couldn't help but smile in response.

"Nazis down." He announced over the coms. "Commence explosions."

"With pleasure," you smirked, pressing the button on the activator. "T-minus five minutes to detonation." You announced, running up the stairs. "Nat?"

"We're in position." The redhead affirmed over coms and you ran harder, making sure to press the button on each floor to activate the bombs you had placed on your way to the basement.

You had about two minutes to spare by the time you reached the roof, pushing yourself harder as you sprinted up the quinjet ramp.

"Go!" You barked out, Nat immediately pulling the jet off the roof and into the sky, the ramp not even closed.

"I... am going... to kill... Stark." You panted, doubled over as you tried to catch your breath. You could hear the explosions in the distance as the building beneath you was destroyed. "Honestly... would it kill him... to make longer-ranged bombs?"

"Well, to be fair, we've never had an explosives expert on the team before." Steve defended only to be met with a glare.

"That's no excuse." You glowered. "They had better bombs in World War Two and you know it!"

You had seen some of them yourself in Tripp's suitcase of Howling Commandos gadgets that he got from his grandfather. They may have been bigger and a pain in the ass to set, but at least they gave an adequate amount of time to get to safety.

As if he could hear your thoughts, Steve echoed the same sentiment,

"These ones are a helluva lot easier to set." He argued, tossing one of the round explosives in one hand.

"Rogers, you idiot." You snapped, snatching the bomb out of the air before he could catch it again. "This is a bomb, not a toy!"

Steve had the gall to smile while you scolded him. "Jesus, that is not something I should have to say to someone who is nearly one-hundred-years-old."

"Relax, Y/N, it's not like it's gonna explode." The super-soldier placed a hand on your shoulder and you scowled up at him.

"It very well could!" You knew that he was right, the explosive was stable and could only be activated with the remote, however, now the argument was about principle. "Who's the explosives expert here, hm?"

"How did a history major become an expert in blowing things up?" Sam asked curiously, breaking up your petty argument.

"Well, I've been exploding things since I was a little girl," you began, making a show of putting the bomb back into its designated case before plopping down into one of the many seats lining the interior of the quinjet. "My dad was a science teacher and we used to do all kinds of experiments together. Coke and Mentos, baking soda volcanos, film canister rockets- the works."

You sighed happily, though Sam and Steve didn't miss the sad look in your eyes that was always present when you talked about your family.

"I sort of naturally drifted towards real explosives after SHIELD recruited me." You shrugged and Sam nodded understandably, but Steve was staring at you as if you had just told him the moon was orange.

"What happens when you mix Coke and Mentos?" He asked warily and yours and Sam's eyes widened in disbelief.

"Y-you don't know?" Sam spluttered out through his shock.

Steve shook his head slowly, looking even more alarmed by your response to his question.

"Oh, Stevie, we are going to have so much fun when we get back." You grinned already choosing which of Tony's labs you would be hijacking.

___

"So what did you do for fun when you were a kid?" You asked as you sat on the floor of one of the many Stark labs at the Tower.

A soda-covered tarp sat abandoned nearby and you and Steve were surrounded by nearly-empty two-liters of Coke. After touching back down in New York, you immediately ran out to buy the soda and mints necessary for the classic experiment. You had a hypothesis that Steve might want to repeat the explosion more than once, a hypothesis that the man readily proved correct. Now you sat facing each other, steadily drinking your way through the flat soda left in the bottom of the plastic bottles because you had insisted it was "tradition."

"Well, my ma and I were pretty poor, even before the Depression hit." Steve began, taking a swig of the nearest two-liter and grimacing slightly at the taste of slightly-minty flat Coke. "We couldn't afford to go out much, so we made do with what we had at home. I remember I spent about a week drawing playing cards when our deck fell apart. I used to draw a lot back then."

You recognized the look of mixed nostalgia and grief in Steve's eyes as he spoke about the past; it was a look you were intimately familiar with yourself.

"When Bucky and I moved in together after my ma passed he'd let me sketch him while he cooked or baked in the kitchen." Steve smiled, a faraway look in his eyes as he recounted the past.

"You never helped out?" You asked, teasing lacing your voice.

"Nah," Steve laughed. "I was hopeless in the kitchen, still kinda am. After I nearly burnt down the kitchen twice Buck stopped letting me anywhere near the stove."

You smiled, thoroughly enjoying Steve's storytelling. He seemed at ease in that moment, completely relaxed and open, something rare for Captain America. The wheels began to turn in your own head when he brought up his childhood best friend, now a fugitive with spotty memories of his own past.

"What were his favorite things to make?" You asked and Steve grinned, though it was so natural you weren’t even sure he realized he was doing it.

"I was too sick to work back then, and with only one source of income we were still pretty disadvantaged, but on special occasions, Bucky would make this baked apple pudding that was divine."

"Divine, huh?" You giggled, tucking that information away. "I wish I could've tried it."

"I actually might still have the recipe." Steve perked up at the thought and you stared at him, puzzled.

"How do you still have a recipe from the thirties?"

"When I went into the ice the SSR boxed up everything in my apartment for 'records.' When I woke up SHIELD gave them all back to me." The blond downed the last of the flat soda and jumped to his feet, practically buzzing in excitement. "C'mon let's go look for it!"

"Slow down there, cowboy." You held out a cautionary hand before gesturing at the lab. "We have to clean all this up first so Stark doesn't kill us."

Steve groaned but relented and you spent the next fifteen minutes making sure Tony would never know they had exploded soda in his "state-of-the-art, high-tech labs."

___

"Sergeant Barnes, it's Agent Y/L/N. I'm coming in." You announced into the speaker, the door beside it unlocking with a click as the technology recognized your voice.

The cabin was dark when you entered but before you could reach out to flip the light switch next to the door you were pinned to the wall, grocery bags falling to the floor.

You couldn't help the gasp that escaped your lips though you made sure to control your breathing the way you were trained to. You knew what to do in this situation but needed to remain calm to do it. The arm pressing across the top of your chest made it difficult to breathe steadily, but you were able to manage after a minute of focusing on remaining still and slowing your heart rate.

"Sergeant Barnes." You managed to get out, your voice a bit raspy albeit steady.

The man growled at the name and said something in Russian that you couldn't understand.

"Your name is James Buchanan Barnes." You began again. "You were a Sergeant of the one-hundred-and-seventh division in World War Two. On a mission to intercept an enemy transport, you were injured and captured by Hydra. Hydra experimented on you and brainwashed you."

You could feel the muscles in the arm relax, though the man wasn't close to removing it just yet, so you continued.

"I am Agent Y/N Y/L/N. Three months ago we met in Washington D.C. and I brought you to this safe house. Every week since then I have come here to check in on you and bring you groceries."

This wasn't the first time you had been met with the Winter Soldier when you arrived at the safehouse and you had had to quickly learn how to bring Sergeant Barnes back. You had found the Soldier responded best to facts, and so you would lay out the facts that led Barnes to that moment in the most even and calm voice you could, allowing the Soldier to stand down and Barnes to come through.

"You are not the Winter Soldier, Sergeant Barnes." You reminded him evenly, and after a moment you felt the man relax entirely and stager quickly away from you.

"Agent Y/L/N, I'm so sorry." He gasped, voice ragged as he quickly worked to pick up the groceries that had fallen out of their bags when you had dropped them.

"It's quite alright, Sergeant Barnes. I know that wasn't you."

It was easy to say because you believed it, though you hadn't always. When you had initially brought Barnes to the abandoned SHIELD safehouse it had been to monitor him to see how much of him overlapped with his assassin alter ego. After about a month of observation, you had found that there was no overlap between the two, other than the fact that Barnes held the Soldier's memories. Hydra had tried to erase everything that made James Buchanan Barnes the man he was when creating their super-powered assassin.

"What's all this?" Barnes asked quietly, starring perplexed at the groceries, particularly the bag full of baking supplies.

"I thought you and I might bake something together," you said, trying not to give away your entire plan.

You had hoped to jog the man's memories a bit however you wanted to avoid accidentally planting false memories.

"I... I think I would like that?" The man said, though it came out more like a question as he still wasn't really sure what he did and didn't like anymore.

You smiled reassuringly. "Well then, lets hop to it!"

You worked quickly to put away the rest of the groceries before you laid out the ingredients for your bake on the counter.

"First and foremost those apples are going to need to be peeled and chopped," You said, nodding towards the apples as you held out a knife to the man beside you.

The two of you stood just like that for a moment, you with your arm holding out the knife and Barnes not taking it from you before you finally looked over at the man.

"What's the matter, Sergeant Barnes?" You asked, your accent clipped with concern.

"I can't be trusted." He said softly, and you almost missed it.

"Really now, Barnes, would I be trying to give you a knife if I thought you would hurt me?" You tried to reason, hoping you were doing enough to quell his anxieties. "I trust you, Sergeant Barnes, even if you don't trust yourself."

"James." He spoke so quietly that you weren’t sure if he had even spoken at all.

"What was that?"

"James," He repeated, more confidently this time. "You can call me James."

He wasn't sure why he had said it. From what he could remember, he hated the name James, everybody had called him Bucky. You were confused by it as well. You had never once heard Steve refer to him as James, always Buck or Bucky. Regardless, a first-name basis was a step in the right direction and you would take it.

"Alright then, James," you smiled at the man, "Those apples aren't going to cut themselves."

"Yes ma'am!" He joked as he finally took the knife from your hand, seeming to surprise himself as much as he surprised you and you smiled even wider.

You worked in mostly silence, the kitchen filled only with the sounds of your labor and James giving instructions- you had given him the recipe right away, hoping it would spark some memories. He didn't tell you if it had, but he moved through the kitchen with an ease and comfort you had yet to see from the man. You thought maybe he didn't realize; that he was having a subconscious reaction to being back in the kitchen, baking something that had at one point held such significance to him.

"Alright, Stevie, desserts in the oven, whaddya want for dinner?" James asked, his back to you as he rifled through the fridge. As soon as the words left his mouth he paused, slumping inwards on himself.

"James?" You asked softly, cautiously stepping towards the man.

"I- I remembered something." He said brokenly, and you decided it was safe to place a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"Would you like to talk about it?"

"Steve- I- we used to live together, I think," James spoke, gripping the fridge door tightly in an attempt to support himself. "I- I used to bake this for him, I- where did you get this recipe?"

His voice had turned somewhat hostile with the last question but you stood your ground, not stepping back from the man in front of you.

"Steve gave it to me," you said softly, hoping he could hear the honesty in your voice, "He told me how you used to make it for him."

"Is he- does he know I'm here?" James asked as he turned around to face you, eyes and voice filled with panic.

"No, and I won't tell him until you tell me you're ready."

"Thank you, Agent Y/L/N."

"It's Y/N." You smiled kindly, "Now, what should we have for dinner?"

___

"This mean anything to you?" You asked, eyebrow raised inquisitively as you set the old paper down in front of Skye.

"Where did you get this?" The agent gasped, breezing past the fact that no one was supposed to know what she had been working on.

It wasn't an uncommon occurrence for you, nearly everyone at SHIELD seemed to think you knew more than you did.

"The Avengers brought me along on a Hydra raid. Found that in the basement of the warehouse, thought it looked familiar." You pointed to the worn parchment laid out on the table.

It was covered in an interlocking series of lines and circles that you didn't understand but you had seen Skye working on something similar in the past months.

"Does anyone know you have this?"

"Nope." You answered, a sly grin on your face. "Nabbed it before I left and then blew up the entire building, so Hydra won't know it’s missing either."

"What do you know about it?" Skye asked, seeming to have realized that this was supposed to be between her and Coulson.

"Nothing, other than that Coulson's had you working on it in secret for a few months now," you answered honestly. "You have to be a little quicker when closing down the holoscreen." You added when you noticed Skye's confusion.

"Noted," Skye responded dryly. "Well, thank you for the old parchment but I can't tell you anything else."

"I didn't expect you to," you smiled before asking, "How about something you can talk about? Like what happened with Browning?"

"Hunter's still pissed we've been shadowing them," Skye smirked and you laughed, not even slightly surprised. The mercenary was more a fan of his paychecks than of SHIELD's protocols. "But an enhanced took out Browning before we could get to him. We're pretty sure he's with Hydra which means they're after the 0-8-4 too."

"Big surprise there," you sighed, the world may think Hydra is gone but you knew the truth: they were just biding their time in the shadows once again.

"So when do we go out to collect it before they can?" You asked curiously, having been off base when the first mission had occurred and Coulson wasn't exactly accepting visitors to his office.

"As soon as we figure out where the government is keeping it." Skye sighed and you groaned. The US Government, or more specifically General Talbot, had been making SHIELD's operations even more difficult lately.

"Is he in the lab?" You asked, changing the subject.

"He's barely left, he's working on the samples we collected from the enhanced right now."

You frowned but nodded in thanks to the agent before making your way towards the lab.

Fitz hadn't been doing much better, he was still struggling to come up with words and his hands were still shaky. Additionally, he seemed to be talking to himself, or rather, a version of Simmons he had conjured up for himself. In your downtime on the base, you found herself just sitting in the lab, an option for Fitz to talk to if he wanted but you always brought a book or something to occupy yourself if not. Today you were sitting on the floor, leaning against a lab station while reading Rob Chernow's biography Alexander Hamilton.

"Uhh, Y-Y/N," Fitz began to panic, waving his hand wildly to get your attention.

"What is it?" You asked worriedly, quickly getting to your feet to stand next to the scientist.

"Y-you see that too, right?"

You did see. The metal samples Fitz had been analyzing had begun to ooze with a red liquid.

"Is that... blood?" You asked, face contorted in disgust and slight fascination.

Before Fitz could answer, the two of you watched as the pieces of metal turned into what appeared to be human flesh.

"What the hell?" You muttered under your breath while Fitz relaxed beside you.

"This is good, I mean- weird, but I can-" Fitz stuttered out tensing up once again and shaking his hand as he tried to come up with the words, looking over his shoulder as if looking to someone else for the answer.

"Figure out who's blood it is?" You supplied and Fitz nodded.

"Shouldn't be too hard." He affirmed quietly under his breath as if he needed to convince himself.

"Well you've got my help regardless," You smiled and Fitz nodded lightly before doling out instructions.

It wasn't the first time you had served as Fitz's hands in the lab and you fully intended to offer your services as long as he still needed them. Working together it took you about an hour to analyze the sample and search the various world DNA databases for a match, eventually finding one in SHIELD's own database.

"Carl Creel?" Fitz read the name out loud as you both peered at the monitor.

"We crossed him off the Index?" You asked skeptically, it wasn't uncommon for SHIELD to take out potentially dangerous enhanced individuals in the past, but clearly they hadn't done a very good job with Creel.

You pondered how SHIELD could've been so careless when Fitz pointed to the supervising agent listed on the report.

"Of course it was Garrett," you sighed. "We should get this to Coulson."

___

"Why am I here Maria?" You asked harshly, arms crossed as you stared at the woman. "I could've been helping Coulson."

"I get that you want to help, Y/N, but you still work here and you have to keep up appearances," Maria said firmly, ignoring her friend's scowl. "If you really want to help SHIELD, you'll keep your cover intact."

You rolled your eyes but you knew Maria was right. If you spent too much time away from the Tower the Avengers would get suspicious and they couldn't know that Coulson or SHIELD were still alive.

"Plus, you know you can't get involved with Talbot."

You rolled her eyes again.

"Why does it matter Mar? He clearly saw us both when we crossed his team at Providence. Why does it matter if he sees me with SHIELD again?"

"Y/N, you and I both know why it matters, you're just being stubborn. As far as the world is concerned, SHIELD is a terrorist group and if you're associated with them-"

"It'll bring a lot of bad PR to the Avengers and I'll have to step down from both organizations to protect them." You finished for her, sighing frustratedly. "I know, Maria, I just hate it."

"Go blow off some steam, hang out with the team, whatever you need to do," Maria instructed in the motherly tone she had used when she was your SO. "There's a classified mission on the books to explain your absence."

As if summoned, Sam walked into the conference room moments after Maria had finished speaking.

"Hey! Y/N is back!" He exclaimed, a grin on his face. "Where ya been?"

"That, my friend, is classified," you answered with a sly smirk before turning to Maria in order to keep up appearances, "Am I finished with my debrief, Agent Hill?"

"You're free to go, Agent Y/L/N," Maria confirmed before turning to Sam, "Next time, knock before you burst into occupied meeting rooms, Mr. Wilson."

"You could just lock the door," Sam shot back but retracted it when he was met with Maria's no-nonsense glare. "Yes ma'am, I'll knock next time."

You did your best to hold back your laughter at the interaction until you and Sam had left the room. You immediately erupted into giggles and Sam groaned.

"I don't know why you guys even bother with all that 'Agent Hill' 'Agent Y/L/N' crap." He said, trying to turn the tables on you as you boarded the elevator. "We all know you're friends, it's so unnecessary."

"It's about professionalism, Sam," you answered, smirking. "I know you don't get it because the Avengers lack any sense of professionalism whatsoever but-"

"Hey! I take great offense to that!" A voice yelped from behind you and you turned to see that Tony was on the elevator as well.

"Oh please, Stark, you're the worst perpetrator of unprofessionalism." You pointed out and Sam snorted.

"I'm not the one who exploded coke all over one of the labs with Rogers last week," Tony shot back and you flushed.

"That was on our off time and we cleaned it up!" You protested, "How'd you even find out about that?"

"You think I don't have surveillance in my labs?"

"Wait you guys did the Coke and Mentos without me?" Sam whined right as the elevator doors opened on the gym floor.

"Oh, look at that, this is my floor," you said, rushing off the elevator to escape your friend's inevitable wrath for leaving him out of the childish experiment.

"No way, Y/L/N, you're not getting off that easy," Sam followed you and you broke into a run.

You sprinted down the hallway towards the gym doors, Sam hot on your heels.

"Steve! Nat! Help!" You squealed as you burst through the double doors, darting behind Steve's tall frame as he stood in front of a punching bag.

"Get back here, Y/L/N!" Sam yelled as he ran through the doors, still swinging from your entrance.

"What's this about, Sam?" Steve asked in mock seriousness as the man stalked towards them.

"Oh good Rogers, you're here too," Sam said and Steve had the mind to look alarmed right before Sam landed a hit on the super soldier's arm.

"Sam! What the hell was that for?"

"You guys blew up pop without me!"

"I didn't know you were supposed to do it with us!" Steve protested and the pair went silent for a moment.

Then you found herself struggling in Steve's arms as he turned on you.

"Steve! Let me go!" You gasped.

"Tell Sam you're sorry," Steve instructed, and you bit back a laugh, schooling your face into one of determination.

"Never!" You yelled, using your years of training to maneuver out of Steve's grip and using his weight to your advantage to flip him to the ground, his back landing hitting the mat below them with a thud.

Natasha let out a whoop from the other side of the gym where she had been silently observing. "That's my girl!"

You shot the redhead a grin as you took up a defensive stance. "Try me, Wilson." you dared.

Sam looked between the British agent and the blond supersoldier who was still lying between the mat before standing down.

"Nah," he shook his head, "Just invite me next time."

You snorted but agreed.

"Hey Y/N, wanna spar?" Nat called from the other side of the gym where she was already wrapping her fists.

"Sure," you answered with a laugh, "I love getting my ass kicked by former Soviet operatives."

Sam, Steve, and Nat all laughed and you flipped them off mockingly as you walked to the locker room to change out of your work clothes.

___

"I got here as soon as I could," you said sadly as you knelt next to Skye.

You were in Hartley's room and Skye was packing up the agent's belongings.

"How's everyone holding up?"

"I think we're all compartmentalizing," Skye sighed, folding up a piece of clothing and placing it in the suitcase. "Coulson won't mourn until we find out if Hunter snitched, and Mack and Tripp are putting all their efforts into reverse-engineering the quinjet's cloaking."

You had to remind yourself to take a deep breath to stop yourself from going off about the cloaking. You were less than thrilled with how Coulson, and truly the rest of the team, had been handling Fitz since the accident, and now they had gone ahead and found a cloaking solution even though Fitz had been working on one for months. You knew the organization desperately needed it, but you thought Coulson could've at least brought Fitz on to what they were doing instead of keeping him in the dark. But now wasn't time to get into that debate, now was the time to mourn Hartley and Idaho.

You helped Skye pack up the rest of Hartley's belongings until you were joined by Hunter, who had apparently decided not to betray SHIELD. You gave the two of them space, heading to the lab instead. Your presence there had started as a way to comfort Fitz, but at some point, the grey tiles and sterile surfaces had become something of a comfort to yourself. You had planned to just sit in a corner and stew in your emotions, maybe text Nat or Steve or Sam, but when you approached Mack was there talking to Fitz. You stood in the doorway, not wanting to enter the room and interrupt whatever they were doing. It was rare for other team members to seek out Fitz in the lab, everyone was too afraid of what they'd find.

You watched as Fitz handed Mack a file, the taller agent looking them over.

"I didn't solve this today." Fitz blurted but instead of wincing or pointedly looking anywhere but at the man, Mack looked up from the files to look the scientist in the eyes.

"You think you can?"

You cursed yourself as you let an excited gasp escape you. It immediately drew the two men's attention and the atmosphere of the lab changed.

"Y/N," Mack acknowledged and Fitz looked down shyly.

"I was just coming here for some peace, but I'd love to help," you explained your eavesdropping sheepishly.

"I think we could use the extra hands." Mack smiled and you grinned, stepping into the lab.

"What're we looking at?" You asked, stepping forward to look at the file that was now placed on one of the many lab tables.

It wasn't long before you had a cluster of lab techs gathered around the three of you as Fitz doled out instructions.

"It's about the.. the resonant," Fitz explained, though it was clear that none of the techs quite knew what he meant by the way their eyes flitted between you and Mack for help.

Fitz noticed the looks and you frowned as he clutched the wires he had been holding closer to his chest. "I didn't solve this today."

"So, what is this?" Mack asked, holding up another object that you didn't recognize. "Is this some sort of sonic device? Like the cloaking?"

You watched as the two men grew increasingly frustrated with each other.

"No, I- ugh, I didn't-" Fitz fumbled, his tone becoming more helpless as he continued to be misunderstood.

"Sorry, forget the cloaking." Mack waved it off and you glared at the techs as they exchanged wary looks. "No one blames you for that, let's just focus on Creel."

You yelped slightly as Fitz threw the papers off the lab table they'd been working at and Mack yelled for him to calm down.

"Get. out." You growled at the techs as they exchanged another look when Fitz turned his back to the group. They scampered off and Fitz turned back around to face them.

Okay." He said, taking a deep breath.

"Take it easy," Mack told the man and you frowned as you saw Fitz become visibly upset again.

'Look, I didn't solve this today!" He exclaimed and Mack matched his frustrations.

"Yeah, I know! You've said that already!" He yelled back.

"No!" Fitz exclaimed, "I didn't solve this today."

Mack looked like he was about to blow his top but you finally made the connection.

"You mean you've solved this before?" You asked him eagerly, eyes alight with the realization.

Fitz nodded excitedly, his posture relaxing slightly now that he had gotten his point across.

"Wait, you mean this is an old design?" Mack asked

"Yes! Yes!" Fitz said and you reached for a tablet, pulling up the designs from the past year.

"Okay, we're with you, Turbo," Mack said as they gathered around the tablet.

You began to flip through the designs, a few of which you recognized from various SHIELD reports until Fitz stopped you at one called the Overkill Device.

"Let's tell the team." You grinned at Fitz who looked quite proud of himself as he looked over the schematics.

___

"Did you get the 0-8-4?" You asked eagerly as the team filed off the quinjet.

You had been bitter that you weren’t brought in on the mission, especially since it had nothing to do with Talbot or any other government official but you knew you had accomplished something big back on base so you were willing to let it go.

"No," Hunter shook his head, "But we got Creel."

He jerked his thumb behind him a few agents escorted Creel off the Bus. Hunter wore a shit-eating grin and even dared to throw some taunts at the man as he passed them. You knew this was important to him, after what the man did to Hartley and Idaho.

"So Fitz's device worked?" You were thrilled, he needed a win, and this was a big one.

"Worked like a charm!" Hunter answered, taking a break from yelling insults at Creel's back.

"Woah, what the hell happened to Skye, Tripp, and May?" You demanded as the three slowly made their way off the plane with help from Coulson, each of them glaring daggers at Hunter as they passed by. "And Coulson was in the field?"

"A lot happened, I'll fill you in over a beer," Hunter said, making his way into the base and you followed.

You were mostly quiet as they made your way to the kitchen, Hunter grabbing you two bottles from the fridge.

"So what did you do to piss off May, Tripp, and Skye and to get Coulson into the field?" You asked as they sat on the barstools that lined the kitchen island.

"Might've iced them all to get a shot at Creel," Hunter shrugged nonchalantly and you gaped.

"You what?"

"Then Coulson took Creel down with Fitz's device and offered me a job at SHIELD." Hunter continued, speaking like this was just another day at the office for him.

"Hunter, that doesn't make any sense. You shot three of our agents!"

"With ICERS!" Hunter protested, "I wouldn't have killed them!"

You merely raised an eyebrow as if to say "wouldn't you have?"

"Y'know what? I take great offense to that, Y/L/N." Hunter said, using the hand holding his beer to gesture at your face. "I think I'd quite like to drink alone now."

"You're such an ass, Hunter." You laughed, standing up from your stool.

"Funny, that's what my ex-wife told me before we split up." He joked and you rolled your eyes.

"Well, I suppose I'll be seeing you around, Agent Lance Hunter," you smirked at Hunter's grimace and grabbed two more beers from the fridge, carrying them back to the Hanger.

As you expected, the Bus ramp was down and Mack and Fitz were stood inside.

"You look like you could use some refreshments." You joked as you walked up the incline to stand with the two men, handing each one a bottle.

"What's this for?" Mack asked, an easy smile on his face as he accepted the drink.

"To celebrate, of course," you answered, "Without Fitz, we never could've captured Creel, and if Coulson's plans to hand him over to Talbot works we might finally have the military off our asses."

"I'll drink to that," Mack said and you saw Fitz smile, the three of you clinking your bottles together.

___

a/n: Lot’s of jumps in this one. I think I’ve kinda decided that’s how most chapters are going to be- I’ve got a lot of ground to cover between here and endgame and I don’t want this story to drag on too much. Since the story is in Season 2 of Agents of SHIELD right now I think the Avengers parts are going to be a little lighter to balance out the heavier SHIELD moments (Though I did manage to get in an Avengers action scene). That’ll shift once we reach MCU territory. Also, first full Bucky encounter! Let me know what you think!

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yujachachacha · 7 years ago

Photo

Yujacha’s Birthday Scout for UR You

Now in meme format! Click for captions~

Final result of 24 scouts: UR Time Travel You x2, SSR Time Travel Ruby x1, SR Time Travel Kanan x3, various R cards x18.

Explanation of each image (i.e. the full story of my scouting adventure) under the cut!

I debated whether I should make this post, or try my hand at making a video since I recorded my scouting adventure. However, editing would take me a while, and I also kinda didn’t look forward to hearing my own voice since I talked during the scouts. When I mentioned this in a previous post:

...which is a good point. _(:3 」∠)_ I might still decide to make the video after all, but in the event that I do, it would be a while before I’d finish it. Thus, I came up with this post!

1. To scout or not to scout

Context: I put up a poll on Twitter + asked Tumblr if I should try scouting on SIF for my birthday, since it happened to fall within the “increased chance of pulling new members” period for the latter half of the Time Travel set. Since Time Travel You happens to be my favorite out of her URs so far, I decided to slightly bend my self-imposed rule of “no scouting until Rin’s birthday box is up on the Global SIF server” by using the large amount of scouting tickets I’d saved up.

The options were as follows:

Yes, but only use some.

USE THEM ALL Y O L O

No, you’ll regret it T_T

save for rin, u traitor!!

As you can see from the first image in the above photoset, the poll winner was option 2 - using all 79 of my tickets.

2. >Has 2.4k love gems >Scared of using just 24 tickets

Those of you who’ve been up-to-date on my blog know that I ended up picking option 1 instead. Now, I do have an explanation for this. What happened was that I was in a video chat with some ONIBE members towards the end of my birthday. At that point, I realized that the number of votes meant that I would be scouting that day. What I hadn’t decided, however, was whether I would actually use up all of my scouting tickets.

I then asked ONIBE what their votes would be, and most of them wanted to see me scout. Some of them thought it would be bad luck to scout while streaming it, but in the end we came to the consensus that I should just use some of the tickets - and that’s how I ended up picking option 1.

One of the replies to my poll was to use 40 tickets for You, and save 40 for Rin (I would technically only have 39 left if I did go with this plan, but I’d definitely be able to earn at least 1 more scouting ticket before November). I really liked this idea, and was thinking of trying this out when an ONIBE member suggested using just 29 tickets to scout, leaving me with a nice round number of 50 for the future. I wasn’t a huge fan of such an odd number, but then it inspired me to pick a similar number: 24, to represent my birthday.

I very reluctantly made my way to the scouting screen and tried delaying the inevitable for several minutes - “nooo, I’m gonna regret this...aaaah...ugh...” and so on. This was the first time I’ve seriously scouted, not counting the few scouting tickets I used when I started SIF (which all turned out to be Rs). My strongest cards, as a result, are Promo URs and idolized event SRs. My teams are pretty pitiful, but it’s all for the sake of seeing my teams get filled up with Rins later this year...!

3. Finding happiness in the small things

My first three scouts were all Rs. I wasn’t really discouraged, since scouting tickets are the equivalent of solo yolos. I was pleasantly surprised when the new SR Kanan showed up so early in my scouting run. I was glad to welcome her as the first non-event SR I’ve ever pulled!

The next two pulls after the SR joined my growing pile of R cards, and at this point someone in ONIBE pointed out that I hadn't pulled a repeat card yet. All of the cards so far were unique girls. In order: Dia, Riko, Maru, Kanan (SR), Ruby, and Chika. Pretty interesting. What I chose to nitpick about, however, was the fact that You hadn’t shown up yet, not even as a R. Then, three pulls later...

4. “Should I stop scouting now?”

My exact words when I was doing this scout: “Lucky nine! You-chan! You-chan! You-ch-”

*UR envelope flies out*

“Oh my-”

*UR Time Travel You pops out*

“OHMYGOD HAHAHA-” *breaks down into hysterical laughter*

I was talking relatively quietly up until then because it was towards the end of the day, but I screeched really, really loudly when UR You popped up. My dad actually came into my room to ask me what was wrong, haha.

At that point, I asked myself if I should stop now that I had achieved my goal of obtaining UR You, and someone said I should try to idolize her. My exact words: “I highly doubt I'm going to pull her again. Like, what are the chances that I'm gonna pull her again?”

Oh, the irony...

After several minutes of indecision, I decided to push forward since I did want the You UR idolized. I pulled a bunch of R cards again after that, and during that time I casually remarked that since I got SR Kanan and UR You, it would be really nice if I got SSR Ruby.

5. Ruby answered my wish

Seriously, the scout right before this was KimiKoko Ruby, and I was just like, “Oh, okay. Wrong Ruby, but good to see her.” Then when I pressed the scouting button again:

*SSR envelope flies out*

“Oh?”

*SSR Time Travel Ruby pops out*

“OH MY GOD! Oh my god, what the fuck...?”

With that, I had everyone in the Pure trio, AKA Kayouby (coined by Furirin during the December 2016 trio niconama), for the Time Travel set. The only card I hadn’t pulled yet for this half of the set was SR Yoshiko!

At this point, I was cackling, “Birthday luck is real!” But then I had another “I'm scared, I wanna stop now” moment because I was lowkey terrified of these nice scouts. I eventually convinced myself to keep trucking on.

6. YohaMaru confirmed(?)

Two scouts later, I tried saying “Yohane, shoukan!” on a whim to see if I could pull the remaining card in the Time Travel set. When Maru popped up instead, I just said, “Oh. Well, I summoned her girlfriend~” haha.

7. “Oh! Okay, that’s nice, I can idolize her!”

Kanan now had the honor of being my first idolized non-event SR as well when I ended up pulling her again. After my bout of joy, I exclaimed, “This is pretty good for solo yoloing! WTF is up with my luck today?!”

On the scout right after this, I actually pulled the same exact Smile R Maru card that I had pulled right before Kanan. :3c

8. “Oh! What the- haHAHAHAHA”

This was scout #20. Within 20 scouts, I got the same 2 URs. I know there was a rate-up for this set, but this was crazy!

My second hysterical laughing fit of the day ended up waking my mom, who was sleeping at the time. Oops. But I was extremely happy to be able to idolize my favorite UR so far of my best Aqours girl!

Though, this scout also triggered “I actually want to stop now” self-doubt session #3. Someone commented on my reluctance to scout, and I retorted, “How else do you think I've saved 2.4k love gems? It only took me...two years...” I can only hope that my self-restraint for Rin’s sake will result in something as good as my birthday scouts.

Next scout was a R Chika, and I remarked, "No, it's all gonna be rares now. I've used up my luck for the year."

9. lol bich u thought

Scout #22 brought me my third SR Kanan. I guess my second best Aqours girl loves me a lot~

Once I found out that this card was a Perfect-Locker, someone suggested selling her for seals. I briefly considered it, but thought it was better to just use the 3rd Kanan to unlock her final skill slot.

10. Datenshi misfortune averted?

My last two scouts were R Maru (Mijuku Dreamer set) and R Ruby (Aozora Jumping Heart set), even though I chanted “Yohane, shoukan!” for both of them.

Hilariously, this meant that I ended up with a grand total of zero Yoshiko cards. I've opted to interpret this as her way of granting me birthday luck by keeping away her notorious unlucky streak away from me. Thank you for your sacrifice, oh mighty fallen angel Yohane-sama. :’)

Results

24 scouts → 2 URs, 1 SSR, 3 SRs, 18 Rs:

You: 2 URs, 1 R

Ruby: 1 SSR, 3 Rs

Kanan: 3 SRs

Chika: 4 Rs

Maru: 4 Rs

Riko: 3 Rs

Dia: 2 Rs

Mari: 1 R

Yoshiko: 0

Goals achieved:

(Initial objective) Pull UR Time Travel You → ✓

Pull SSR Time Travel Ruby → ✓

Idolize UR Time Travel You → ✓

Pull SR Time Travel Yoshiko → X

In the end, I of course withdrew the URs for idolization. I also decided to withdraw Kanan, even though she's a PL card, since I don't own that many idolized SRs. The SSR Ruby, however, is still in the present box. The last card I withdrew was actually that Smile R Maru in Image #6, because I actually hadn't idolized that particular card yet.

Lessons learned:

Birthday luck is real.

Chanting “You-chan” will summon You-chan.

Chanting “Yohane, shoukan” will not summon Yoshiko (but it might summon her girlfriend Maru).

Every time I doubt my scouting luck, SR Kanan will show up to prove me wrong.

Don’t ask the internet if I should use up all my scouts on solo yolos, because the answer will always be “yes”.

#love live! school idol festival #love live school idol festival #llsif #aqours #time travel set #yujacha plays sif #queuetie panther #ignore the watermark i was too lazy to make proper images :blobwhistle:#this is the most insane luck i've ever had #if good shit like this happens when i scout using actual love gems for rin #imma probably collapse from cardiac arrest

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xqr · 7 years ago

Text

LLSIF Things 38: I killed them all

This one hurt. Kotori. It is well-known among my friends that Kotori isn’t up there in the best girl list, but this Easter card was probably one of the hardest ones to part with so far. And not bc it’s easter themed (check out my easter tag lol).

Every 8 perfects it’s almost like 8 notes to me bc I’ve a high perfect percentage. So sometimes when she was on a roll I’d just hear ‘mieta ne! mieta ne! mieta ne!’ She was a good egg. I missed hearing her when she dropped off the team. And since then I’ve been delusion that she’d be useful again. But I’ll never level her skill. And now Kotori’s birthday has passed I’m unlikely to pull a 2nd copy and have her become useful.

Honestly putting this card back on the team was like taking her out for one last dance, except she didn’t know anyone else. All her old friends were already dead and these new shiny URs and SSRs were here. I enjoyed hearing her skill activate a few more times before I laid her to rest.

Moving on to sacrificing more event cards I only had 1 copy of.

Umi, you monster!

Honestly it’s a shame bc the old event cards were so unique and beautiful.

And a very special sacrifice. I was sitting there like how can i get more member space without spending gems? The answer is to drop the promos. But there is no gain when you sacrifice a promo, so why would I? OH HO. But there is one promo that would give good gains. Sorry, You, it was for the greater good.

Wheyyyyy. Now both her and Cooking Pana look like naturally idolised URs. But boy she made me poor look at the G I was about to not have. dw I sold alpacas.

Because Mari was getting serious gains!

WEW. 1v1 me in the pit.

I’d like to thank idol jesus for not obliterating me for not switching teams.

I saw myself?? Nah, they’re using a slightly different character for Qiao. I’ve googled and I’ve got nothing. Surely we are thinking of the same Xiao Qiao?? As much as I’ve tried to leave my old username behind I just wanted to yell ‘I’m Xiaoqiaorocks!!!’

I found out from Reddit that I had literally just scraped T1 for score. It’s the first time I’ve been on the boundary like this. How exciting. And I made T2 for points :D

Anyway, all this sacrificing meant I could have a reward.

Beautiful.

SO CLOSE

Me: pls just give me an SSR at least. It’s been 8 tickets without a UR.

Goddamn no I’ve already sacrificed her.

This will probably never be useful rip.

This one is making the team!

I am pained.

LET’S GO!!

Close enough.

I’m not using my gems ok. No I’m not. I must save for birthday. I MUST. Fucking. Ahhhh. No the more I write here the more I convince myself to scout for that rate up.

We killing them on both servers

2 years later this promo finally reaches skill level 8.

Good.

FC’ing the first daily Aqours master on the first attempt was a little disappointing tbh.

Well, that decides it!

Bye.

THIS WAS HARD. WEW

This one’s for the team!

Helix

rip Umi she died twice this edition

I’m trying out my solo yolo luck on Helix now. This was the first one. In the 3rd years box.

But I ain’t gon’ pass up a step up box

ew wtf is that. Why are there initials in this box? Not the SSR tho, she can stay.

I need member space. I’m killing these promos. Sorry not sorry. They’re already a burden on my other accounts so I don’t need them here too.

Me: immediately forgets about initials in box

No. The worst thing is that this Pana was idolised and bonded by Inky. But never max levelled. I am pained.

I soloed. I got shit.

EN: spends millions of G for this line up. Helix: gets handed it

This will do.

#llsif things #llsif

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imjustthemechanic · 4 years ago

Photo

The Price of a Soul

Part 1/? - Agent Russel Part 2/? - The Letter Part 3/? - Miss Lake Part 4/? - The Stewardess Part 5/? - An Assassination Part 6/? - Fallout Part 7/? - Face to Face Part 8/? - Deals, Details, and Other Devils

Peggy finally asks about the coordinates, and gets an offer she cannot possibly accept.

Peggy showed her badge at the police station, and they let her inside. She descended the stairs, and asked the man standing guard over Lake’s cell to step outside for a moment. It all gave her a terrible sense of déjà vu. This was exactly what had led up to facilitating Dottie’s escape, wasn’t it? Except this time it was going to be different, she told herself. This time, she had no use for the woman behind those bars except for satisfying some curiosity. Once she’d established to her own satisfaction that she wouldn’t be able to get any answers, Peggy could go back to her hotel and maybe even sleep for once.

Lake was lying on the cot with no blanket over her, curled up and facing away from the bars, her back gently moving as she breathed. The shackles were lying in a heap on the floor. Nobody had tried to enter the room to replace or remove them, which was probably wise, but they did draw Peggy’s attention to the fact that Lake was not attached to the bed.

Signs had suggested that the girls in training in Siberia were always handcuffed to their beds at night. Similar marks on the bedposts had appeared in every room they knew Dottie to have stayed in. Peggy had spoken to a psychologist about this, and he had agreed with her initial hunch that the handcuffs represented a perverse form of security. If the girls’ keepers shackled them to their beds, it meant they weren’t going to have to up stakes and flee in the middle of the night. With the cuffs on, any surprises would be real surprises, not sudden training exercises.

Lake had shown she could get out of the cuffs easily, so the fact that she hadn’t bothered to put them back on suggested that she was expecting something to drag her out of bed that night. Something that would happen so quickly, she might not have time to bother about her handcuffs.

If she thought that something would be Peggy breaking her out, she was going to be sorely disappointed. Peggy rapped on the bars.

“Miss Lake,” she said calmly.

Lake rolled over and sat up. “Yes?”

At least, Peggy thought, it was good to know this woman hadn’t been sleeping like a baby while Peggy herself lay staring at the ceiling. She stepped back to be out of arm’s reach. “Was anything you told me this afternoon true?”

“Truth is a matter of circumstance,” said Lake.

“No, it isn’t,” Peggy said. “When I say…” she thought for a moment, and chose a random historical event. “When I say William Herschel discovered the planet Uranus, that’s true. It happened.”

“He said it happened,” Lake countered. “You’ve only got his word for it. Maybe he found it in somebody else’s notes, somebody who never published it, then located it again and took the credit.”

“Details,” said Peggy.

“The devil’s in the details, Peggy,” said Lake.

“I know,” she nodded. “Now… perhaps you can give me some details about this.” She held up the sheet of paper, still covered with fingerprint powder, but with the numbers and the drawing still clearly visible. “Those are your fingerprints. You put this in my purse. That happened, no alternative scenarios possible. What is it?”

Lake looked as if she were considering several possible answers, and Peggy thought that if she said it was a piece of paper she would reach through the bars and strangle the woman.

“It’s where the Valkyrie crashed,” said Lake. “You already figured that out.”

“Why did you give it to me?” asked Peggy.

“Because I wanted you to have it,” was the reply.

“Why?” Peggy insisted.

“Because I think that’s what Captain America would have wanted.”

She was probably right – he probably would have. Peggy was on a short list of people Steve would have trusted to memorialize him without trying to make use of his earthly remains. Of course, Howard Stark would also have been on that list, and that hadn’t turned out so well. For a moment Peggy wondered how Lake could have known that, but then she remembered the films. Everybody who’d seen those knew that Steve carried a picture of Peggy in his compass. Once Lake had determined that she was a real person, not an actress, it would have been an easy conclusion to come to.

“How do you know that’s where he is?” Peggy asked.

“Because I’ve been there,” said Lake. “I’ve seen it.” She stood up. “The Valkyrie came down with the port wing lower than starboard. It hit the ice, broke through it, and tore off.” She used her hands to suggest the motion. “The fuselage rotated away, crashing through the ice as it went, until the starboard wing got caught on the rocks at the edge of the island and stopped it. The cockpit filled with water immediately and the windows popped out, forcing the pilot out of his seat and out of the airplane. His body settled back on top of it as the water froze again.”

“He wasn’t wearing his harness,” said Peggy. Of course he wasn’t. He never did.

“He’s lying on top of the plane,” Lake said, “with his eyes shut, like he’s sleeping. He must have been knocked unconscious immediately. I don’t think he felt a moment’s pain. His shield is on one arm,” she assumed the same position, “and a fist in the other, as if he’s clutching something.”

The bloody compass. Lake’s descriptions were so vivid, Peggy could almost see the crash happening in slow motion in front of her eyes. She wanted to believe it had happened that way… the devil was giving her the details with a smile on his face.

“Who knows about this?” Peggy asked.

“I do,” said Lake. “And you do.”

“Who else?”

Lake shrugged. “The Inuit who live around there probably know. They’d have seen it come down and they might have investigated, but I doubt they’d disturb it once they realized he was dead. The ice would protect him from wolves or bears, and as long as a corpse isn’t going to be scavenged, they’re not worried about it.”

Peggy nodded slowly. It was all so believable, and yet the only way to know if any of this were true would be to travel fifteen hundred miles and look for herself. How convenient.

“Let me guess,” she said. “If I let you out of this cell, you’ll take me there.” Except that Lake would almost certainly vanish post-haste and never be seen again.

“You don’t need me for that,” said Lake. “You have the coordinates. You can go on your own.”

“And leave you here unsupervised?”

“I’m in jail. What can I get up to?” Lake’s face was the picture of innocence.

“Miss Lake, the more you imply that you want me to go elsewhere, the more certain I become that I need to stay right here,” Peggy told her.

“That’s up to you. But be careful what you do with that page,” Lake said, nodding towards the paper. “It’s not that hard to figure out what it means, and there are people who would kill for it. And I told you twice now, call me Kay.”

As Peggy walked back to her hotel in the darkness, she murmured the numbers on the page to herself over and over. Seventy-four. Forty-seven. Thirty-five. Ninety-five. Twenty-five. Three. She repeated them until she was absolutely sure she could never forget them, that she’d be reciting them under her breath on her deathbed if she lived to be a hundred. Then she burned the page, and flushed the ashes down the toilet.

She climbed back into bed and shut her eyes, and realized that she actually did feel sleepier now. The encounter hadn’t taught Peggy anything much, but she did have an inkling of what Lake might actually be trying to accomplish. She wanted to ruin Peggy’s reputation, and possibly the entire SSR’s. She wanted them to mount a very expensive expedition to the arctic and come back with nothing, having wasted valuable time and taxpayer money on a tip they knew wasn’t trustworthy. They would look like fools, and people like Masters would turn it into a public scandal and shut them down.

That fate was easy to avoid, though – all Peggy had to do was never tell another person about it, ever. She’d already told Agent Russel, but he hadn’t seemed very interested at the time and by now had probably forgotten all about it. As long as Peggy didn’t remind him, it ought to be fine. Or perhaps she ought to have a word with him about it, just in case. Surely of all people, an FBI agent could keep a secret.

Nothing in Peggy’s world was ever that simple, of course, but this was early days. There was still time to keep a lid on it if she played her cards right.

Between her bout of insomnia and her late-night interrogation session, Peggy slept late again, though not so late as yesterday. It was around ten thirty when she woke up, and the first thing she noticed to her great relief was that her face was finally starting to feel better. When she looked in the bathroom mirror, she found that the redness had faded quite a bit, though she was still quite puffy. Washing stung, but it wasn’t the agony it had been twenty-four hours earlier. She almost looked like a human being again.

“Seventy-four,” she said to the mirror. “Forty-seven. Thirty-five. Ninety-five. Twenty-five. Three.” The numbers must be a red herring, but Peggy didn’t want to forget them. Just in case.

She still didn’t wear makeup, but she stood a little taller as she walked to the SSR, and the sun wasn’t as painful as it had been. A couple of the ladies on the switchboards said good morning to her, and mentioned that she looked much better today. Peggy thanked them, and took the elevator up to the SSR.

There was a nasty shock waiting for her there.

A large table had been placed in the centre of the room. There were papers strewn over it and coffee mugs and half-eaten pastries around the edges, but most of it was taken up by a large map of the United States with a series of pins in it. Peggy had a similar one in her apartment in Los Angeles, chronicling Dottie’s known movements. This one had more pins, and standing at the head of the table, talking to Thompson, was Kay Lake.

She was no longer in her gray prisoner’s uniform. Instead she was wearing a white jacket with black polka-dots and a black skirt with white ones. Her hair was done and she was wearing makeup and gloves. The women’s straw hat hanging off the corner of one of the chairs must also be hers. She looked up as Peggy walked in, and smiled.

“Good morning, Peggy! You look like you slept well!” she said.

“Good morning, Kay,” Peggy replied. “So do you.”

“Morning, Marge,” said Thompson.

Peggy took a moment to picture herself standing alone in the bombed-out ruins of Coventry Cathedral, screaming at the top of her lungs. Once she had at least imagined indulging that urge, she said, “Jack, may I have a word.”

“No,” he said. “I took your recommendations into account and came to a decision. I think you’re letting a personal feeling of rivalry with these women cloud your thinking, and I want to remind you, you don’t even work for the east coast office anymore.”

“I see,” said Peggy stiffly.

Thompson looked around. “Would you excuse us a moment, gentlemen?” he asked. “And Kay?”

Various heads nodded. Lake flashed a dazzling smile and said, “of course, Jack.”

“Thank you. Carter?” Thompson waved for her to follow him. She did so, but she was seething. Everything he’d just said and done had been designed to humiliate her: refusing to talk on her terms, dismissing her concerns, accusing her of bias, and then forcing her to talk privately on his schedule. He’d better have something to say for himself, or she was going to head straight back to California. Frankly, there was probably nothing Thompson himself would like better.

In the office, Thompson shut the door, and then turned to face her. “I know you don’t think I know what I’m doing, but I do. Before she left that room we got prints and mug shots, and they’re on their way right now to every border crossing, air- and seaport in the country. If this goes wrong, she’ll have nowhere to run, and she knows it.”

“Does she,” said Peggy. She left off the question mark on purpose.

“These girls’ whole schtick is we’re supposed to underestimate them,” Thompson said. “We think they can’t be that dangerous because they’re women. So turn that back on her. I’ve got two CIA guys in that room undercover and there’s another pair of them watching from a car across the road. If she moves we’ll be ready, and until then, she thinks her feminine wiles have worked.”

“So that outside was for her benefit?” Peggy asked suspiciously. It would certainly be enough to convince most people that Jack Thompson didn’t care what a woman thought.

“Yes,” said Thompson. “Now, if you don’t want to help, I’ll call Daniel and you can go back to California. If you do, your job is to hang around and question everything I say so I can tell you not to be paranoid.”

“Business as usual, then,” Peggy remarked. She glanced through the window to the main room… Agent Russel was there, standing against the wall with his arms folded across his chest, looking like he wanted no part of this fiasco. Lake was laughing at something one of the other men had said, for all the world having a marvelous time.

“I’m not going to stay just so you can pretend to bully me,” she decided. “I will call Daniel myself.”

#fanfic #captain america #agent carter #peggy carter #steve rogers #steggy #fix it fic

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