Agent Olivia Dunham

"I understand that you think I acted too emotionally. Putting aside the fact that men always say that about women they work with, I'll get straight to the point: I am emotional. I do bring it into my work. It's what motivates me. It's what helps me get into the headspace of our victims, see what they've seen, even if I don't want to, even if it horrifies me." [ Independent RP blog for Olivia Dunham, Fringe ]

[retenir]

  Unarmed doesn’t mean not a threat, she thinks, her body shifting as she watches the stranger— the first to notice something off; but whether that’s because she’s observant or because Nilin slipped up (moved a little too much, took in a breath too sharp) is anyone’s guess. It feels like guessing is all she’s been doing lately, ever since her escape from that… prison.  The only clues she has are her personal belongings and her name, and right now, it doesn’t amount to much.

"I’m not looking for trouble," she calls back, hopping down to a ledge, then another, before finally landing on the ground. "Just staying out of sight. That all right with you?"

[dunhxm]

She starts at the voice that echoes through the pooling shadows, having half-expected to hear nothing back but the faint sigh of the wind and the stirrings of her own, over-active imagination. The shifting patch of dark becomes more distinct the closer it gets, until Olivia can discern the woman whose unexpected voice had replied to her.

" --- I thought I was alone," she admitted, with a half-breath of laughter that's part relief and part retained caution. "You'll be glad to know that I'm not looking for trouble either. It follows me around enough as it is."

[dunhxm]

     There's a sound in the semi-darkness that's      something more than the settling of an old      building or a stray pigeon. Peering up into      the shadows, Olivia's half-convinced there's      a person up there.

          " -- hello?"

  (-- and then, her life being what it is -- )

                 "I'm unarmed."

[dunhxm]

     " -- well one of us is clearly in the wrong place."

[vekkja-blog]

  [ He smiles; he cannot help himself— though it is no more than a subtle curve, spared for benign mortality at its best. ]

          “It is not a custom commonly taken.      Are you a guest of SHIELD?”

[dunhxm]

    "---- against my will, preference, and better judgement,          I guess you could call me a guest."

[ It may be the closest thing that this universe has to Fringe Division, but she can't help feeling that it's rather more than that -- that they're keeping her here out of more than mere politeness and concern for her to get back to where she came from. ]

[dunhxm]

[ i always assume people know it's me when I've made a new blog and then someone will come to me on skype like OH MY GOD SOMEONE MADE A _____ and I'll be like... yes, yes they did. I did. ]

[imnotafanofbeingpoked]

  "You haven’t met Dr. Banner yet, have you? Not so much questionably sane as… Well, you’ll see. 

      — I did get you a cow.”

[dunhxm]

    "--it's just not a lab without one. Good luck      explaining that one in your yearly budget.

         As long as he's better with pants than Dr.          Bishop, I'm sure we'll get along just fine."

[dunhxm]

[ verse info is up! and with that, I'm heading to bed. If you want a starter/plot, just go ahead and drop into my ask and let me know. ]

[imnotafanofbeingpoked]

  "I’d say you get used to it, but I have a feeling you know that already. Welcome to SHIELD, Agent Dunham. You’re gonna love it."

[dunhxm]

    "---I'm sure.

I don't suppose  you have a  questionably sane scientist sequestered away somewhere, do you? It's funny, the things you get homesick for."

[vekkja-blog]

  [ He spares a moment of his time simply to look at her; an unwavering line of eye contact that belies his contemporary amusement.

     When he speaks, it is polite, though borderline informal, nearly matching the tone she has set. ]

     ”— Thor of Asgard.”

[dunhxm]

  "Thor! Of Asgard."

[ Just when she'd decided that she'd reached the limit for strange. Just when she'd decided that now, she really had seen everything. Just when she'd decided that five years ago would have been a really good time to retire. ]

         "I didn't realise there was universe where           Gods literally walked the earth."

[dunhxm]

Imagine the impossibilities.

✥ Independent RP blog for Fringe's Olivia Dunham

✥ Multi-verse & multi-ship with several canon timelines

✥ AU friendly

✥ Mun & Muse 21+

✥ Passionate writer & friendly idiot

                                    HOME | ABOUT | MESSAGE

[dunhxm]

   "----I can't actually claim that it's one of my     more unusual days."

[dunhxm]

    "----and you're who? Hercules?"

[dunhxm]

[ hello new friends. as you may be able to tell, my blog isn't quite done yet (mostly bc i'm a lazy lil shit) but if you would like to hit me up for plot/starters, feel free to do so! ]

[wasthatnotarchived]

  "I probably shouldn’t tell you that James  Bond is a real person, then.”

[dunhxm]

   "---- real as in, not fictional? As in     an actual, active agent for the British     government?

Surely there's  not enough  women in the world with questionably sexual puns for names for that to be true."

[dunhxm]

wasthatnotprocedure:

"You get used to it. Just keep your head down."

   "You know on the other side,  Ian Fleming    never wrote a single book?  He worked in    military intelligence until he died.

Makes pop culture references a little difficult."

[breniarchive-blog]

       ”There are no such persons registered to the Triskelion.”

     There is a forced brand of neutrality to her expression— quite familiar in every respect— though the way she holds herself now reveals a lancing sort of disturbance, and it is this perception of rapid descent that he turns his gaze to, with a curious tilt of his silver head.

     He wonders, only briefly, what she has heard of. Just as her familiarity begins to take a dive, he finds himself quite close behind. 

     ”I think you know how this works. You don’t need to speak to me, but please follow. I’d rather not make this any more unpleasant for you than it already is.”

     Mannered tranquility has become a strength of his, regardless of intent. For now, there is none, but she is lost, and strangely immaterial about her edges. As though pieces of her are still settling into place; a wobble in her physicality that finds leisure in returning home. 

[dunhxm]

     Something in her face tightens. Yes, she knows how this works -- or at least, how it has worked in the past. Dark rooms and locked doors and needles and tests; attempts to use her and, when that failed, to destroy her.

     Her gaze does not rest still as she is led, taut but calm, to wherever he is taking her. Eyes take in every detail they can, store it away in case she might need it later -- layout of the corridor, the numbers of the rooms she passes. Each breadcrumb of information clung to with the precision that she knows she is capable of.

     "I'm not sure it will make a difference to you, but I feel I ought to say that I didn't intend to be here." Understatement. "In fact, I'm not even quite sure where here is."

[breniarchive-blog]

     It’s dangerous, he has often found, to rely upon his gifts for cardinal directives. They draw him to some curious things— curious people. Places. He wonders if it was intentional to flip that silent switch, or if that proverbial something was once more at work. This is a back route; a divergence so far out of his way that he rode a borderline of impending explanation.

     But she was there. In the center of an empty corridor. 

     Coming to a slow, pensive halt some few strides from her, he gives a cursory assessment by eye and by sense, and— oh.

                Where she shouldn’t be. 

     ”— No. SHIELD, unfortunately. Come with me, if you would.”

[dunhxm]

     "SHIELD?"

     Unease begins to steal its way into her bloodstream, a slow intoxication that's beginning to build. She casts a glance along the corridor, looking for something that might spark some feeling of familiarity, or anchor her in one world or the other. There's nothing -- merely muted colors and blank walls and closed doors, unlabeled.

    "I've never heard of it."

     Of course, she doesn't know everything about the other side. There are a hundred thousand companies and businesses and corporations, and each one different from what she knows in some small way. But Olivia knows an agency when she sees one.

     "I'd like to speak to Agent Olivia Dunham of Fringe Division. Or Walter Bishop."