#thepropertyofalady

[kit-just-kit]

*Kit thanks you all for your lovely birthday gifts and now she is insisting she and I watch old black and white movies for the rest of the evening!

I put in a tag earlier that her birthday is the date I created her and started rp’ing eight years ago.....but it’s actually nine years. I started on my personal blog in 2014, moved the rp’ing over to a-kitten-with-claws in June of that year and stayed there until spring of 2021. Maybe it was the pandemic that prompted the switch here, or the incessant negativity that I seemed to attract there but, I have felt much safer here. And although I know I’m not around much, have long spells of inactivity or just pop on here for memes and such while replies still festering in my drafts, I do want you all to know how much I value you all - your talent, creativity, friendliness, spirit and support have gotten me through some very tough times, both a few years back when my health was bad and last year which was comfortably the most stressful of my entire life (it’s a long life too chaps, trust me).

So, let’s make this a little anniversary shout out post to you all, eh? I’m going to put some names now but please, if I do overlook you it isn’t personal and you can absolutely feel free to comment and let me know so I can add you later.

@ericbrandonrp, @adsagsona, @therealgamble, @tarnishedhalo, @brooklynislandgirl, @ronmanmob​, @coinquinatvs, @worldofsenelfy, @becomelions, @whosxafraid, @brokenblondeprincess​, @pupil-of-law, @dontcxckitup, @conzierge, @thepropertyofalady, @cardiomyapathy, @onlydevilsleft, @consultingsister, @rugini, @laviexenrose, @themxgicman, @naigel, @daslanv, @libdemdisaster, @exsomniorum, @theresastargirl, @richardxoliverxmayhew, @hcze, @mettleborn, @faithdevotion, @wynterlanding, @nytehavyn-circle, @thedoctornumber11, @dsperado, @little-earthquakes-rp, @justafleck, @webreak, @insidemyblood​, @propertyofseagate

from Kit (& Sarah) x*

[dontcxckitup]

a few BTS gifs for @thepropertyofalady / @agentjamesbond / @jamesbondtm ! 💋

[spectresdaughter-arch]

HE CAUGHT HER OFF GUARD, appearing out of a crowd of people. A space so vast and yet there he stood. Madeleine spines on her heel, giving James her back.

“Do not speak to me,” she says fiercely. The woman doesn’t know he can hear her. But this is not how she anticipated a reunion with James. Not like this. Nor did she plan to say what she said. She had a speech prepared, on the off chance they bumped paths. But that all flew out the window. So she does what anyone in survival mode would do; flee.

@thepropertyofalady​   /   Starter Call.

[brokenthimbles]

time was our enemy

@thepropertyofalady​

The funeral was small, she stayed in the back. What was she really to them? Nothing. To her James was everything, and there was a dark shadow that seemed to follow her.

It was M who visited her from James’ life, but it was less that and more that thread of fate. She had been the one to speak to him of his wifes final moments, and he was the one to speak to her of her .... whatever he was to her. It was an odd thread that connected them. Both the ones to lose people they loved,and both the others responsibility to look out for them. 

Flowers that had long been dead littered her counter, and she finally decided it was time to purge them. Behind the dead roses and flowers she found a photo of him, his blue eyes almost looking at her from the photograph. 

There were certain things that she knew. His job was dangerous, and he could be lost to her at any moment. His job entailed certain things she knew to take a blind eye too. But nothing would ever prepare her for actually being ripped from the man she loved. 

“I wish we had more time.” she told him with a sad smile before taking the trash bag full of flowers to the bin. 

[authorofallyourpain]

@thepropertyofalady​ || liked for a starter 

“You really make it so easy James....” Blofeld half chuckled in an almost amused disbelief. “A little push here, and you destroy your own life.”

“It’s almost no fun anymore......almost.” 

[the-blackest-spider]

Random Asks | Always Accepting

@thepropertyofalady​ left a message:  Somehow, and in only a fashion that Bond could, he reappeared from the rubble, brushing off the dust from his suit and tugging on the cuffs of his shirt. "Well, they tried to kill me," he explained, shrugging as he strode toward her. "Apparently they failed. Nothing new."

This man.

Natasha didn’t even bother to hide rolling her eyes. Bond was a curious creature, prone to dramatic entrances and having a very lofty opinion of himself. Though Natasha knew, in sating her own curiosities that over the years he had ate his fair share of humble pie, no one in their line of work could avoid that particular dish completely. But there was a reason spies tried very hard not to have much of a persona life if they could help it.

“Hm. Should’ve known there was a bad penny laying around here.” Indiana Jones reference? Absolutely. If the shoe fits and all that.

“Maybe you’re part roach? I’m beginning to wonder at this point.” She knows she’s being just a tad mean, but it tended to make her grumpy when someone seemingly fell off the face of the earth without so much of a word or anything.

[dontstoptrying]

TFLN @thepropertyofalady

txt; A million fucking miles away, and the sun still manages to fuck my hungover mornings up.

[text] Maybe there’s a lesson to be learnt there, James? [text] Close your shutters, silly, some of us are enjoying the sun.

[ericbrandonrp]

top 5 bayern players :)

Put “top 5” anything in my ask and I’ll answer!

@thepropertyofalady

// ......you can probably hear crickets now cause I haven't watched a single game in...months? Two years? Hence I don't even know who's on the team anymore xD Okay, I’ll try...

1, Manuel Neuer

Of course. I mean. Duh. He's the best.

2, Thomas Müller

Is he...is he still on the team? Can anyone check? Oh god this is embarrassing...

3, Mats Hummels

Yeah I know he left the team but...you know...he's been one of my faves. Let's just pretend, okay??

4+5,

I never gave a shit about the others cause...you know...they come and go haha

[mettleborn-a]

Semi-plotted starter for @thepropertyofalady​

Arriving at Port NOLA, Adelia disembarks from the passenger ship and takes a taxi to the French Quarter, though the car is soon forced to stop as it meets with the drunken revelry of Mardi Gras, which appears to still be in full swing. As the sun slowly sets, briefly bathing the road ahead in warm, orange light, dusk descends, replacing sunlight’s loss with the more muted hue of New Orleans’ replica gas lights and neon-lit byways. Strings of vividly bright, cheap plastic beads hang from wrought iron balconies and lay scattered in the street, gaudy among the cigarette butts, empty cans and plastic glasses that have been kicked into the corners of cobble stone streets.

Doing her best to traverse the celebrating crowds, Adelia heads directly to a bar situated in the middle of Rue Bourbon, the one M has assured her 007 has been regularly frequenting lately. She can’t imagine he’ll be pleased to see her and in truth, she is no less thrilled to be joining him. Indeed, M’s suggestion for them to work together was originally met with her fervent opposition, though her protests fell on deaf ears and seemingly prompted only the reminder that she is a newly defected agent and must therefore work to prove her ability to both take and follow orders.

Ordering herself a Margarita, she takes a moment to compose herself, tucking curls of unruly hair into place as she studies herself in the smeared mirror behind the bar. Up until this point, she has been working alone, on missions she considers to be frivolous, missions aimed at testing her loyalty it seems and very little else. This mission however, is much more important and if accomplished, could potentially lead to Spectre elite; her former colleagues, perhaps even Blofeld himself, that is exactly why, she imagines, Bond has been given the lead, much to her obvious frustration. She is quite aware she hasn’t yet earned 007’s trust and will likely be denied it given her previous role as an agent in Spectre, formally known briefly as number 10, before the designation was passed over to another, as is standard practice. 

The instant she senses Bond in the room, her back involuntarily stiffens, though she does not yet turn to regard him, instead choosing to let him linger as she focusses on the drink she has just been handed. Taking a long sip, she licks salt from her lips as she waits for an approach; only when he is close enough, does she finally turn.

“Before you tell me to turn around and go back to London, let me assure you, this arrangement wasn’t my idea nor was it my preference.”

[cleverlittleq]

Truth Serum Meme // accepting // @thepropertyofalady

"Give me M.'s password."

“Of all the things you could ask me, that’s what you decide on?” The Quartermaster heaves a heavy sigh. “It’s Britannia!1953.”

[kit-just-kit]

Cars are not a mammal I just double checked.

@thepropertyofalady to me, just now on discord, which actually made me snort tea out of my nose when laughing at it

[dontcxckitup]

@thepropertyofalady / @agentjamesbond

// I did a thing 😂

[spectresdaughter-arch]

HER ARM SLIPS THROUGH JAMES’, chill induced shiver running down her spine. The blonde releases a small squeak as a costumed child jumps out at them. “Is not the wrong time to say some of these costumes freak me out?”

@thepropertyofalady​   /   starter call.

[brokenthimbles]

one day at a time.

@thepropertyofalady​

Everything hurt. Some of James’ aches and pains suddenly jumping to her mind as she tried to make her way towards the freezer for an icepack. It was what she had asked for. She understood James’ job, she understood what it entailed, and she had every intention of trying to make herself capable of at least keeping herself safe but bloody hell every step seemed to hurt today. How many times did she end up on the ground? More than enough to case a few bruises to form, but every week she got a little better. Every week she learned just that much more......

Looking at the small excuse for an ice pack she wondered if she could fit into the freezer. 

[hopeandlimerence]

@thepropertyofalady​

The taxi took her to the British embassy, and from there Ann knew there wasn’t much that she could do. She could hope that they would be able to find her information since she didn’t have any of her identification on her, but that was about it. To her surprise, when she asked for help in this matter, they assured her that this happened quite often, people losing their wallet, their identification, etc. They just needed her national insurance number. She gave it to the woman at the desk, who told her that this number wasn’t in their system. Ann gave it to the woman to try a second time, and then a third, suggesting that perhaps a number was off. It wasn’t, and even by the fourth time, still nothing came up. At first, the woman began to very politely accusing her of lying, suggesting that she had an identification number of a different country. She didn’t, Ann told her that she had been born and raised in the U.K. 

From there, people with deportation approached her and thankfully they were still fairly decent towards her. Most likely, it was because she was clearly someone of wealth. She was in what was obviously a nightgown, yes, but an expensive, silk one that looked designer. She also had fairly large diamond earrings and a diamond anklet. Essentially, they told her, they wanted to “help her find where she needed to go”. One of them suggested memory loss. Ann was annoyed, but she complied with them, as she knew that they wouldn’t find anything that said she belonged in another country. What shocked her most was that when they ran her fingerprints, they didn’t come up as a match at all. It puzzled the officers. At first, this prompted them to turn her over to MI5, as this certainly wasn’t a normal deportation case. They usually had ways of finding out where someone needed to be deported to if they wouldn’t admit themselves where they were from. However, Ann Fleming wasn’t showing up in any of their systems. She even tried using her maiden name, which didn’t appear, her first married name and her second married name. Nothing. 

MI5 also turned up nothing. Ann suggested they try MI6. She told them that she was being genuine, that she was a citizen of the United Kingdom, and she couldn’t explain why she wasn’t showing up in any system. She had attempted to explain that to James Bond and he immediately considered her to be crazy. She had to be especially careful with what she said now that she was in the government’s hands. 

She had been there for several weeks now in MI5 custody, who finally handed her over to MI6. They too tried using everything; Q’s facial recognition software, blood samples, tissue samples, the country’s most advanced fingerprint scanner, and still, nothing was turned up. At this point, everyone was so baffled that even M was involved in trying to solve this riddle. One person suggested that perhaps she had been living in the woods her entire life, but several people insisted that even if that were the case, there would be at least some form of video footage of her with satellite footage. Eventually, she asked to speak to James Bond. She told them that she could offer information in exchange for it, and while M was at first skeptical that this strange, apparently non-existent woman could offer any information, that changed when she offered a few Spectre names and a hideout location. They looked into them and found that they were indeed valid. Arrests were made and she was thanked for the information. Ann promised more if she would be allowed to see him. MI6, even the entire British government honestly, didn’t know what to do with her. Nothing was warranting arrest, if it was a deportation matter they didn’t know where to deport her, and they had no idea of where she came from. But for now, she was offering incredible information. She was offering not just names, but secrets of Spectre, hideouts, meeting locations. For that, M was willing to cautiously cooperate.

It had been a month now since waking up in his hotel room that day. Thankfully now in actual clothes, graciously given to her. Ann didn’t have a plan, not really, but she had some ideas of how to maybe get back to her own timeline. The only person that was the slightest bit likely to believe her was James, or at least, she hoped. He was certainly the person she knew most about to maybe prove to him she was telling the truth. She sat in the room that M told her to, where he would be meeting her. 

[redemptioninterlude]

@thepropertyofalady​ - james !

This city’s so interesting, isn’t it? Only here, touched down on tarmac while she FLIES COMMERCIAL from another point upon this planet, she smokes listlessly outside, she watches the cabs fly, yellow insects, through the streets. A fake name, a fresh passport, she’s wearing a new identity, a new face, perfectly dressed. Her client, a corporation, as shifty as all within Hong Kong can be expected to be - they want to see the end of a competitor, a clean kill, without a message needing to be sent. The tail end of interest within it all being that they’ve been involved in some shady business of late, haven’t they? Whispers, within a network within another network, being of how they’ve gotten themselves involved in the super human affairs of those in the city, a serum crafted to emulate what nature blessed many others with, sans approval.

And what a curious prospect that was, though, she imagine the city’s seen enough of those types of late. But that’s none of her business in the long run, stuffing the life out of the cherry end of her cigarette, stepping back into the HOTEL LOBBY of the bar she’s shadowing tonight, the kind of hunting grounds for those of the rich and the famous and those looking to be preyed upon for the hopeful payout at the end of it. A drink is waiting for her at the bar, a glance to the left, and what’s this? A familiar face, sliding into the seat alongside of him as she plucks at the stem of a cherry, dragging it through her drink with idle ease and boredom, all those notes left to align.

“My my. When’s the last time we ended up in the same place at the same time?” of course. They’re targeting the same person, isn’t it, tongue sliding along her lower lip, parting the seam of her BLOOD RED lips. They curl into a drier smile, a leg crossing as she takes that first sip, the taste dulling against her senses as she calculates the next play - you don’t get to pick your cards in a game such as this one, but it’s all up to you how you choose to use your hand to your advantage. “Are you looking to take someone out, or are you looking for information? I like to think we can play nicely in the same sandbox, Mr. Bond, if you’re up to being so giving.”

- @thepropertyofalady​ ( for a semi-related plotted starter! )