A Little Kree in Me

I'm Dr. Karla Sofen, but you might know me as Moonstone. And if you keep looking at me like that, I'll crush you without blinking. Try me. ((This is a roleplay blog for Dr. Karla Sofen, a Marvel character, and is associated with The Avengers Mansion RP...

[doctorkarlasofen]

Partners in Anti-Crime || Karla and Kamala

The plan was half baked at best.

Karla had always been the kind of person that planned things a bit on the fly. She could plan ahead, sure, and play chess like the best of them. But she preferred to keep flexible and occasionally smash her way through obstacles as they arose.

But just smashing wasn’t going to prove useful here and she was hitting some serious roadblocks trying to scheme. The goal was obvious enough: locate the second moonstone and obtain it. The subgoal was to do so without pissing off everyone around her. It was true that having both stones meant there was no way anyone could reasonably stand in her way…but she didn’t exactly need to tempt fate either.

Hell, she had seen these people take down Galactus. She didn’t need to draw that kind of fire even if she thought she could handle it.

The bigger problem was even figuring out where the damn stone was. When SHIELD fell, she had tried to keep track of the stone but it had ended up lost in the shuffle of materials between government agencies and whatever HYDRA chose to smuggle away.

What she needed was a way to not only find the stone, but to have the government and Super Tights Crowd thank her for it.

Karla was jolted from her thoughts by the sound of a key in the apartment door. “Hey Kamala, it’s open,” she called out from the couch.

[littlemzmarvel]

Kamala skidded to a halt in front of the elevators, frantically pressing the ‘up’ button between gasps of air. She bounced up and down impatiently on her heels as she waited, clutching a copy of the Jersey Journal protectively to her chest. Of all the days for this to happen, it had to be the one where Lockjaw went back to Attilan. After what felt like an eternity, the doors finally rolled open. The trip to the tenth floor proved to be equally as painful. By the time Kamala got to the door she was seriously considering just breaking the knob.

“Please be home, please be home, please be-

“It’s open.”

Yes.

The teenage girl burst inside and upon locating Karla, slammed the newspaper onto the coffee table in front her.

“Remember those ninja guys from the docks last week? And the one in red was all ‘you will pay for your insolence’, but he didn’t get to finish because you punched him in the face? I think I know what they’re going to do, but we have to hurry. They might have already started moving.”

Without waiting for the former villain to respond, she held the paper up for her to see. One finger animatedly pointed to one article in particular. A small spread beneath a piece on the mayor’s birthday party. Local Diner Closed Indefinitely After Reports of Rat Infestation.

“Everyone in Jersey knows Jose’s. The owners are super dedicated to their reputation. There’s no way they would let something as big as this happen to their kitchen. Unless they were set up.”

Kamala gestured to the accompanying photo of the restaurant, drawing attention to the blue surrounding it. “Their building is right by the waterfront in the same area we fought those guys before. What if they were the ones who had it closed? It’s the only building directly next to the marina that stays open past midnight. With it out of the way, there wouldn’t be any witnesses to their evil plans “

[doctorkarlasofen]

“...so you think there are evil ninja plans in Jersey City.”

She looked over the newspaper for a moment. It wasn’t exactly a flashing neon sign of a clue but it wasn’t terrible either.

“Okay. So let’s say they did this. What do you think the plan is for the docks?”

Karla stood after a moment and stretched with a small yawn before letting her clothing shimmer away to reveal the proper Moonstone costume. “Guess it doesn’t matter. We’ll figure it out one way or another, right? We’ll just need to be careful.”

A small smile. “How do you feel about a late-night stakeout picnic?” It was a little more whimsical than Karla normally went for but she could use a distraction and there was nothing more distracting than eating with and then fighting alongside Kamala. The girl’s giddiness was infectious.

[backwardsandinhighheels1945-blog]

Containment Area for Relocated Nazis -- Peggy (Open) 17 & 22 June 2016

“What’s all this stuff?” Angie asked, noticing the clutter on Peggy’s desk and across a large portion of the floor.  It wasn’t quite as bad now that she’d brought the documents (at least, the ones which weren’t immensely personal) in to the office to be further investigated.  “I think you may be taking your work home with you, English.”  

Peggy glanced up from the water she was pouring.  “Oh, that?  On the contrary, it was mailed to me and I haven’t sorted through all of it–Don’t touch that!” she snapped, and Angie promptly dropped the sunglasses back onto the desk.  

“You’re actually reading all of this?”  

“Yes.  It’s part of my job to be thorough.”  Peggy placed the kettle back on the stove and carried the cups into the living room/office area of her flat.  “But these in particular pertain to the woman of whom I’m a clone.”  She set the cups down on the table and turned to face Angie.  

“Oh, this was all hers?”  Peggy saw that she had switched to ruffling through the pages.  That was all fine; paper wouldn’t hurt her but she still hadn’t figured out in a safe and controlled way for what some of the devices were supposed to be used.  “How did you get a hold of them?”  

“I assume they were considered useless and non-threatening,” Peggy explained her theory.  Howl glanced Peggy’s way at the sound of the tea but didn’t leave Angie’s side.  “It seems my dog has adopted you, Angie.  I promise I do feed him when you’re not around to see it,” she joked, and cracked a smile.  Really, where were his true loyalties?  The way he was sniffing around her legs and shoes made it clear how much he’d missed Angie while she’d been on her trip.  

“Hey, buddy,” Angie addressed the dog, absently petting his ears.  “I think your mommy’s getting jealous.”  

“I’m not jealous,” Peggy protested, indignantly.  She sat down sideways so that she could keep an eye on Angie and the potentially explosive or corrosive (or whatever else) elements she had laying about.  “Actually, I do have a favor to ask of you, if you’re going to be in town for a while.”  

Angie put down the stack of letters and turned to face Peggy.  “I’m not going anywhere for a long time.”  The way she said it made Peggy think she’d had enough travel for the time being.  “Why?”  

Peggy’s smile turned insincere and apologetic.  “I’m afraid it’s my turn to leave for…” she hesitated to put a time on it, “an unknown amount of time.  You see, these papers I was sent weren’t exactly inert.  I’ve brought them to work and now that I’ve got my boss’ attention I’m leading an investigation into the activities of a former Nazi scientist.”  

Angie gave her a quizzical look Peggy couldn’t understand at first until she asked, “wouldn’t he be 90 years old…or more?”  

Peggy raised her brow.  “I suppose he must be.  It hasn’t stopped a certain captain I know.”  She was the anomaly; the others had taken the long path, which usually had the unfortunate side effect of getting very, very old.  “But would you mind looking after Howl for a few weeks while I’m gone?”  

“Of course.  And you’ll see just how much he misses you when you come back, won’t you show her?”  Angie stooped to pet Howl, then led him over towards the sofa.  

“I appreciate it, Angie.”  She took a sip of her tea.  

“Where are you going? Are you allowed to talk about it?”  

“Well, it’s spy business, so I can’t tell you much,” Peggy said, then thought for a moment.  “I will be reachable by email if you really need something.  I’ll be in South America first, but I’m not sure it it’ll be my only stop or not, and if not where I’ll be going next.  It’s heavily dependent on what I find when I’m there,” she explained.  

“You’re being so cryptic.”  

“Sorry, darling, but the rules are the rules.”  

“No, it makes you sound mysterious.  I kind of like it.”  

Peggy didn’t realize what Angie was doing until she was half way on top of her and Peggy had managed to slosh milky tea all down her front.  “Off, off.”  She pulled her hot shirt away from her skin and used the blouse material to fan her burned skin. 

“Oh, gosh Peggy I’m sorry.”  

“It’s alright.  Just wasn’t expecting you to do that.”  She stood and went to her bedroom to clean up and change.  “I’ll be back in a moment.”  

–

Buenos Aires was absolutely stunning.  Peggy made a note to herself that she would have to return at some point when she had time to herself with which to enjoy the city.  As it was, the spy found herself in a quagmire of old texts, newspaper stories about the infamous baron, and several here-say stories of questionable credibility.  Apparently the hood he’d accidentally glued to his face all those years ago had stayed stuck and as a result, everyone living around her knew what he looked like.  That was both hilariously unfortunate for him and exceedingly fortunate for Peggy.  

It hadn’t been more than two days on the ground before Peggy found a real lead.  While any person off the street could likely tell her his approximate location, it was no more precise than if she’d asked about Bigfoot’s whereabouts.  “In the woods,” they said, “he lives in a funny wooden fortress and keeps fifty servants and spends his time researching ways to get the hood off his head.”  Sometimes he would make a real appearance, at which time more information was tossed around, only some of which was authentic.  “He was a Nazi war criminal,” it was claimed, but also, “he was a disgraced nobleman in Germany who tried to make a fortune on glue,” and even, “his face was so ugly his mother glued it to his head herself.”  Eventually, Peggy managed to weed through the nonsense and arrive upon a few real sightings (which, surprisingly, did indeed indicate a wooden fortress.  Who would have figured?). 

What didn’t seem to be true, as Peggy could see the moment she arrived, was that he didn’t keep fifty servants.  That had even been one of the more plausible stories she’d heard along the way.  Though Peggy had arrived before dawn and watched from high in a nearby tree, she hadn’t seen anyone come or go from the compound all morning.  She couldn’t see into the palace, but if his staff were truly so large, they would have gone outside, at least.  That meant that he had more like two or three servants, if any at all, and Peggy was beginning to suspect not even that was the case.  Two or three she could easily handle by herself today without calling in backup from her team back in the United States.  In the initial research phase she was the only pair of boots needed on the ground.  For this next maneuver, she had been instructed to bring in help.  That was a judgement call she was willing to ignore.  

[doctorkarlasofen]

“Mis- Doctor Sofen.”

They were learning. Karla smiled at the man in the suit in front of her, standing at the door of her apartment.

“Yes. And who are you?” Her voice was calm and casual, though her hair was starting to slowly rise up as if suspended in fluid. The air buzzed softly.

“No need for alarm, Doctor Sofen. I’m Agent Gregson.”

“Government?”

“Yes. But not the team you dealt with before. Good job on that, by the way.”

Flattery was a new tactic. Interesting...

“So, what can I do for you?”

“I have a proposition for you. Well, we have a proposition.”

“And why would I help you?”

---

Karla gave a soft sigh, brushing her hair from her face as she analyzed the scene before her. Creepy forest home of a Nazi with a sock permanently stuck on his face, with the clone Peggy lurking outside.

Huh. She didn’t seem to be looking for Karla or any other assistance, for that matter. Hadn’t she been informed of her arrival?

She flew along the tops of the trees, phasing through the upper branches to maintain stealth until she was a few mere feet behind Peggy.

“The cavalry’s here,” she whispered, hoping to not spook her too much.

[doctorkarlasofen]

Partners in Anti-Crime || Karla and Kamala

The plan was half baked at best.

Karla had always been the kind of person that planned things a bit on the fly. She could plan ahead, sure, and play chess like the best of them. But she preferred to keep flexible and occasionally smash her way through obstacles as they arose.

But just smashing wasn’t going to prove useful here and she was hitting some serious roadblocks trying to scheme. The goal was obvious enough: locate the second moonstone and obtain it. The subgoal was to do so without pissing off everyone around her. It was true that having both stones meant there was no way anyone could reasonably stand in her way...but she didn’t exactly need to tempt fate either.

Hell, she had seen these people take down Galactus. She didn’t need to draw that kind of fire even if she thought she could handle it.

The bigger problem was even figuring out where the damn stone was. When SHIELD fell, she had tried to keep track of the stone but it had ended up lost in the shuffle of materials between government agencies and whatever HYDRA chose to smuggle away.

What she needed was a way to not only find the stone, but to have the government and Super Tights Crowd thank her for it.

Karla was jolted from her thoughts by the sound of a key in the apartment door. “Hey Kamala, it’s open,” she called out from the couch.

[doctorkarlasofen]

“...and if he’s not smart enough to use his boot jets then that’s not me killing him, that’s just natural selection.”

[why-i-love-comics]

Dark Avengers #190 - “The Final Hour!” (2013)

written by Jeff Parker art by Neil Edwards, Terry Pallot, & Sotocolor

[doctorkarlasofen]

Oh Karla.

[panels-of-interest]

Nova vs. Moonstone.

[from Nova (2007) #34]

[wadewilson-parker]

If Kobik is that confused and can’t tell the difference between this situation and a game, she might very well have turned Cap to Hydra just because she thought it would be fun.

Thunderbolts #2 (2016)

[alcaantaraas]

Thunderbolts #1

[mostingeniusparadox]

Thunderbolts #2

[doctorkarlasofen]

Internal Covenant || Drabble

“You’re not trying, Ms. Sofen.”

“It is Doctor Sofen, you sadistic fuc-”

She screamed as they upped the amperage. God, she didn’t want to scream but every damn cell of her body was screaming but she needed to join in. It took her a few moments to notice that the latest scientist was speaking through the intercom in her testing space.

“The substance in your chest gives you great power, Doctor Sofen. You have unlimited potential yet never push yourself. Why waste such power?”

She wanted to make a snappy reply but it was hard to speak when her mouth tasted like pennies and her body was being ripped apart.

“Such a waste. Well, SHIELD will fix that. We have a knack for using things to their full potential. And just imagine what we’ll do with two.”

-----

Karla’s eyes snapped open. She didn’t scream or bolt upright from the nightmare, though she was sure a look of pure hatred was clear on her face. She just stared ahead for a moment before shaking her head slightly as if to shake the feelings away.

She hadn’t thought about SHIELD for a little while. She had gotten her revenge, as much as she could get at this point. Fury was labeled a traitor, SHIELD was dismantled with HYDRA exposed...it was good. Finally good.

However, the one piece that she had continued to ignore was now creeping into her mind. The experiments. Rather, the purpose of the experiments. SHIELD had been testing her limits for more than just the stone they planned to rip from her chest. There were two stones. There was no way to know how they had gotten the stone (probably some reality-bending bullshit) but they supposedly had it.

And then there was how they stated she wasn’t really pushing herself and that she didn’t know her powers. It was probably true as much as she hated to think it. She had felt high from the power she got without trying. But what if she actually tried?

Karla closed her eyes, grimacing. Self-doubt didn’t become her.

Perhaps she needed to focus her efforts on the stone instead. She had let herself get distracted by Tony and Kamala and the others, abandoning her focus for pleasantries.

It was time to refocus.

[towritecomicsonherarms]

Thunderbolts #2

[doctorkarlasofen]

(I swear this sums up Karla beautifully.)

[doctorkarlasofen]

Hair Like the Summer Sun || Open

Summer was a time for mixed feelings. On one hand, she hated the humid heat of New York. Walking through the city felt a bit like walking about while wrapped in a moist blanket. “Oppressive” was the only term that came to mind to describe it. On the other hand, she rather liked the feel of actual summer sunlight on her skin. It had been a while since she had felt it and not just an increase in output from a UV lamp in a cell. “Miss, are you ready to order?”

Karla smiled at the waiter, adjusting her sunglasses despite being nestled neatly beneath the shadow of ivy. The rooftop area of a bar was the perfect location for a sunny Saturday afternoon and the massive pitcher of mimosas in the waiter’s hand didn’t hurt matters, either.

“I’ll take one of those mimosas, actually. I take it you’re still serving brunch?”

“Yes, ma’am. We’re actually doing our bottomless brunch special. One entree and bottomless mimosas for two hours.”

She raised an eyebrow.

The waiter continued nervously. “This is a community table, though, so you might end up with...other brunch folks if you’re staying for a while.” Other drunk folks, rather. Noted.

“No problem. Bottomless brunch seems fine.”

Her blue eyes glanced around. The rooftop seemed empty so far but it had the vibe of a calm before the storm.

[towritecomicsonherarms]

Thunderbolts #149

[panels-of-interest]

John Porter vs. Radioactive Man.

[from Damage Control (2008) #2]

[fybartonromanoff]

Avengers: Ultron Revolution/Assemble, S3E4

(for @paperairplanesopenwindows)

[thefuturistknows]

We Are Moons | Tony & Karla (14 February 2016)

Karla called him back at around seven. She said yes.

“Okay, so I’ll pick you up at nine?”

She said yes to that as well. Unfortunately, the sense of accomplishment was incredibly short-lived.

I’ll pick you up at fucking nine.

Sure did sound like a standard cool response to give (Tony had heard it a lot in romantic comedies and such, which was why it had immediately snapped into his mind), except that, you know, considering the traffic, two hours weren’t enough for him to get back to the Tower and take a shower and change and not be late, and it certainly wasn’t enough time for him to buy a restaurant for the night. Especially on Valentine’s Day.

Actually, scratch restaurants. He couldn’t do restaurants. He’d almost had a crisis over wine guides earlier today, and Karla was a wine person, right – he remembered she’d been drinking wine on her birthday – so even if he somehow managed to bypass the weirdness of the whole “oh no, sorry, I don’t feel like accompanying you with the drinks, I’ll just have a fucking Perrier,” he’d still be stuck trying not to look constipated for the rest of the night as he watched Karla, and he’d probably pull a brain muscle or something if there was anything remotely resembling kissing. Either that or he’d have to come out with it and ask Karla to stick with god damn lemonades, and okay, Tony didn’t know a whole lot about first dates, clearly, but he did know that uh by the way can we mind my as-of-yet fragile sobriety was a complete conversation dampener.

So! No restaurants.

Which was fucking ridiculous, of course, because a 9:00 PM date implied dinner, and he couldn’t exactly take Karla to a fast food place. At least not if it wasn’t part of some super grand, quirky, planned itinerary involving skywriting. And he didn’t have enough time to plan that.

Two things Tony did know, however.

Thing number one: Ferrari. He went back to the Tower just to switch cars.

Thing number two: flowers. Yellow roses again, which he offered to Karla by way of greeting.

“Don’t get used to it, but I’ll be honest with you,” Tony said, once they were both settled in the car.

(And Jesus. Jesus. That was a fucking terrible joke.)

“I actually have no idea where to take you,” he admitted, trying to play it off as a calm spontaneity thing, and not as a holy fuck I’m nervous thing. “So, do you trust me to call the shots here, or do you want to choose where we go?”

[doctorkarlasofen]

A date. She was going on a date with Tony Stark.

It was a weird feeling, really. Karla hadn’t been on a date without ulterior motives in...huh. That was a depressing thought. Romance had just never seemed worth it, especially when she never intended to keep anyone around for too long.

But now she had more or less set up some sort of roots in New York and the man who called himself Iron Man was trying to court her after spending months acting like she was the devil.

Huh. Perhaps he was trying to play her? No stranger to manipulation, Karla considered the idea briefly before shrugging it aside. No, there would have been much easier ways to try to play her. Romance was hardly the first tool Tony would have reached for.

A quick glance to the clock showed it was 8:30 PM. She was showered and groomed. The outfit component would take all of six seconds (a quick glance at a magazine or memory of a store display and her outfit was created), so that was hardly an issue. The big issue was...well, not there currently but bound to show up at some point while Karla was gone.

Kamala.

Karla winced at the idea of Kamala finding out she was going on a date with Tony. She stared at the pad of paper on the kitchen counter for a moment before quickly scribbling a note. “Kamala, If you get home before I’m back, I’m out having dinner with spending time with  talking to Tony Stark. 

Karla

PS: No letting Lockjaw on the couch while I’m gone, we’re on our third one. PPS: Don’t make that face. You know I’m right.”

Another glance to the clock. 8:40 PM. Surely Tony would be taking her somewhere with food...no. No reason to assume anything. The man was panicky man behavior personified. She placed a protein bar in her purse.

At 9:00 PM, he was in front of her building in a Ferrari with yellow roses and she couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow. Hospital flowers and a luxury car on roads with high traffic when they could both fly seemed...more than a smidge odd.

She had picked a simple enough outfit (knowing she could always change it if needed) of a casual-yet-stiff navy blue dress and chocolate brown wedge heels. She settled into his car and accepted the flowers with a small smile that hinted at a smirk.

“Wow. Honesty. Where’s the fun in that?”

She could make terrible jokes, too.

“Relax, Tony. Ridiculous choices in flowers and cars aside, I trust you.” Karla flashed him a smile. Worst case, she could always bail him out. Again. “Lead the way, Stark.”

[hawkeye-not-hawkguy-dammit-deac]

Superhero Social Services || Karla (February 17th, 2016)

[hawkeye-not-hawkguy-dammit-deac]

Seeing Karla in jeans and a blouse was…weird. She looked so normal. He would have thought he had gotten used to powerful people looking normal or innocent, given his time as an agent and who his friends were, but it was still weird.

The woman had more powers than he could keep track of, had been held in a superpowered prison, and had gone toe-to-toe with the Hulk…and she looked like this.

He realized he had been staring for a bit when she asked if he had a reason for visiting and he coughed.

“Uh, right. I’m here to…check on Kamala. I heard she had been staying here?”

“Yes.” Another pause.

“…you know I’m not keeping her hostage, right?”

“What?! No, I mean-”

Aw, man. I really should have planned.

“I just thought I’d come see how she was. Being a minor and everything. She’s part of the team now. Kinda.”

Like, three seconds of planning.

“Not the team. But the other team.”

Karla stared at him for a moment before sighing. “You can come in, if you want, but she’s not here.” A brief step aside revealed the open doorway. “I’ve gotten pretty used to these visits.”

“Ah, uh, thanks.”

[doctorkarlasofen]

He slid past her awkwardly and Karla found herself wondering if this was really Hawkeye.

The man had no powers but enough skill to run alongside the Avengers, and before that he had been a good friend and partner of the legendary Black Widow with SHIELD. Before that, he had been a villain himself that squared off against heroes.

And yet the man seemed like a bit of a mess. 

“Would you like something to drink?” A gesture to the kitchen.

“No, that’s okay.”

“I have coffee.”

“...okay, yeah, coffee would be good.”

Of course. She went into the kitchen and pulled out a coffee grinder, placing the aluminum canister on the counter calmly.

“So, Clint, what do you want to know?”

“...uh, what?”

“You’re here to question me. Or interview me. Whatever.” She pulled a brown paper bag from the cabinet, opening the bag briefly to sniff the contents before dumping some into the grinder. “So what do you want to know?”

“...huh.”

She began turning the manual crank with calm movements, pausing after a few moments when she realized he hadn’t spoken yet.

“...you don’t know what you want to know, do you?”

“Not really.” He admitted with a shrug, sitting down on the couch and looking to her. “I feel like asking you for your master plan is...a little weird.”

She rolled her eyes. “You wouldn’t be the first person to ask that.” Another few focused turns.

“...you have super strength, right?”

Quiet.

“What other powers do you have? I saw you fly at the battle, and shoot...laser fist things.”

“Laser fist things?”

“You know...” He raised his fist to mimic her. “Pew pew.”

“Oh. Right.” She shrugged. “Honestly, I’m not really sure.”

“...what?”

“Well, I know the one’s I’ve found. Flight, enhanced durability, intangibility, strength, light projection, concussive light projection...” Karla paused. “I guess I’m faster than the normal person too, but nothing super exciting. And I seem to be relatively fine in space, so I guess my breathing is somehow enhanced. Yet I can potentially drown. Go figure.”

“But those are only the things you’ve ‘found.’”

“Right.” She did a few final turns on the crank before dumping the contents into a French press. “SHIELD tried to push the limits of the stone when they had me. I honestly had never really...pushed it before.” She snapped her fingers. “Right, and I have control over my appearance to a certain extent.” As if to prove her point, her clothing began to dissolve in a flurry of sparkling bits, only to clear away and reveal a purple dress. Another flurry and her outfit was back to the earlier blouse-and-jean choice.

Okay, so she was showing off a bit. The man looked slightly terrified of her, though mostly confused.

“You’ve never pushed it?”

“Not really. There never seemed like a need.” A small sigh. She had forgotten to start the hot water. A few quick presses on her kettle fixed that and the water began to slowly gurgle.

“SHIELD hypothesized that there was greater potential in the moonstone than I had accessed. Energy manipulation, even to the point of traveling through time and space, could be possible.” Another shrug. “Seemed unnecessary to pursue on my own, though, given their chosen methods to reveal that power involved trying to nearly kill me. Repeatedly.”

He looked uncomfortable.

“There’s a reason I’m not really a part of SHIELD anymore.”

“The only people I blame are the ones that knew I was there. It’s...over now, I guess. With Fury being held responsible.” She poured the hot water into the French press and situated it. “Coffee should be ready in a few minutes.”

“Thanks.” He looked thoughtful for a moment. “Why care about Kamala? I thought you hated Miss- Captain Marvel.”

“I...strongly dislike Carol Danvers. The woman is so headstrong and self-righteous that she’s practically blind to anything but her own ego. Kamala is no Carol, thankfully.”

“But why play house with her?”

Karla paused for a moment. “I don’t know, really. She wanted to do it and I just...agreed.”

“Huh.”

“I hear we’re not so different.”

“The other Hawkeye?”

“Correct.”

“...fair enough.”