WISDOM'S DAUGHTER @torpcdogirl-blog - Tumblr Blog

AGENT FRANCIS // @gonnabefine

“Yeah. I got a good look.”

Right before they’d tried to cold-cock him. Should have seen that one coming, but there’s something off about this place, a little unsettling, and it feels like it’s thrown him off-guard, just a little.

“He was –”

Mouth opens to describe him to her, and doubt creeps up his throat to crush his words on their tongue. Had he been taller than Charlie, or shorter? A moment ago he could have said with certainty whether his hair was dark or light, he’s sure. Had it even been a man? Fingers rise to head, checking that the wound isn’t worse than he’d thought. There’s no dizziness, no nausea.

“ – I don’t know.” He unholsters his gun and flicks off the safety. Premature, perhaps, but the security is welcome. “You see which way they took off? Can’t have got all that far.”

“ It’s this w ---”

Carol stops. Hadn’t this been the exit? Not exactly one to lose track of space, to get lost --- in a building, too. Offices aren’t made for difficult navigation. Practicality and reason are part of the design. But here’s the entrance to another hallway; one that looks exactly the same as the one she’d just left.

Perhaps, door number two. Doesn’t seem like a mistake ( those come far and few --- perfection key, and the name of an admiral always at risk ). Save face, the confusion that had spread disappears as she moves to the other door and opens it.

It’s the same.

Unease settles in her stomach, and the hand that stays on the handle of the door loosens. She taps her fingers. A lick of her lips, and a step back to open the space beside her to the other agent. “ --- I think I’ve run into a small problem here. ”

#gonnabefine #V. AGENT MARCUS

COMMANDER SPOCK // @fasciinating

the words were already ripe around his lips, though she had beat him to it. fascination ! – luring him into her workspace like a moth to a flame. and he’s vaguely aware of it. a decidedly human resignation; skin flushing with a sort of fleeting jade and an almost adolescent, eagerness. it has been some time since he’s had opportunity to converse on a similar scientific wavelength. no offense to his current staff. this was different. this was new. ❝ you have encountered an event of transmutation after an interval of three days? ❞ listening closely, there’s as much surprise as there is, maybe even an edge of wonder. spock leans towards her microscope, maneuvering close. heat, a thin barrier between their shoulders as he attempts to take a closer look. he’s careful not to touch. to make contact. out of courtesy. gracefully, twisting his torso to peer singly into the lens and draw back just as swiftly, ❝ the rate of reaction is extraordinary — . ❞ his inflection changes. pitch higher, with a trace of excitement if vulcans could feel such a thing. ❝ if i may ask how you have accomplished this? ❞

“ Metals I’ve worked with; age hardening to incite a reaction. But things on a more biological level, commander --- this is absolutely new to me. ” Movement, a hand to cut space to let her pass to stretch towards a computer. A tap of keys and the glide of fingers and the screen by the microscope fills with progressive images.

“ That incident a few weeks ago... ” Everyone remembers. An unknown biological accelerant had turned the botany lab into a small jungle and a few beards into bushes. She’d offered to help; analyse to find it’s rate --- used a simple compound with short life as a measure and...voila. “ You know the one; Lieutenant Sulu was having a hard time not enjoying himself. ”

( Because of course he’d offered to do the clean up ).

“ I was working with this basic compound --- completely harmless, I assure you. Short life and progressive tweaking and .... after a while, this is what I’ve gotten. Reacts favourably to plant life. ” A smile. “ This ... thing, it’s as if it’s made to particularly pair with the Higgs Boson. ” Excitation. Perhaps this was what it felt like to be like Archimedes with his ‘eureka!’, or those at CERN during the times when mankind had built themselves the Hadron Collider.

#fasciinating #V. MAIN ( GENESIS )

JIM // @diedsaving

he watches, listens as she speaks – relaxed, open to her opinion. it hurts him, knowing she feels this way, & the questions begin to circulate in his head: maybes & should’ve, could’ve, would’ves. all impossible of course. but he thinks, considers fighting it anyways. thinks of listing all the reasons she should STAY & see their mission through, the benefits, both professional & personal, she’ll miss out on by leaving.

but he doesn’t. he can’t. it wouldn’t be fair to fight & keep her here if it’s not what she wants. it’s a familiar misery & he’s not going to keep it company. not this time. he’s got a duty, both as a friend & commanding officer, to support her in whatever decision she’s made. it’s a much happier alternative.

“well, I hate to lose you, & i’m not sure how sciences will go on, but if this is how you feel, then,” hands flip upwards from their position intwined & at rest, signifying a shrug, “i’m not going to stand in your way.” a smile then, or maybe a partial smile – something small & bittersweet – but still a smile. “where do you want to be?”

“ There’s a place, ” hair tucked behind her ear, a smile gentle and features soft. Eye contact is broken, only for a moment. “ That I believe would do well with my services. “ Resolve firm, a nod and lifted chin. “ I’m not just a weapons specialist, after all. ” More than that, beyond it --- a researcher, a woman of science, a chaser of curiosity; and though the vastness of space, though the unknown would bubble excitement and keep her coming to him to ask to join the landing party, there was ... just ... something not quite right.

“ Yorktown, they have a position open, defense, if you really must know. They’d like an officer with...more than the usual experience to make sure that place is safe. ” A pause. “ --- I think I can provide that. “

It still hangs heavy, the weight of a name tarnished, the honour of a man barely a memory against the sins the worlds believed he committed. She holds it upon her shoulders, carries it, makes it seem lighter than it truly is. “ I just ... well, need a little bit more time, I guess, and ... running away into space is probably not the best method to deal with it all. ”

#diedsaving

GAMORA // @xgamora

“ don’t knock fear. ” as difficult as it is to swallow down and utilize the emotion, when tapped into properly it could fuel even the most ‘above average’ human’s drive for self preservation. gamora dropped her hand from the blonde woman’s chin, having seen enough in those blue eyes to know that resolve of hers was solid. if she didn’t learn from the assassin, then she’d go elsewhere – to someone far less competent at hand to hand no doubt. “ it’s kept me alive more times than i care to count.

we’ll start now. show me how you were taught to stand when throwing a punch. ” meanwhile, heavy boots continued their thud against a padded floor, carefully adjusting carol’s body ( much like a child playing with a plastic doll ) in the process of circling her. her arms were thin, and fist not too large, so any blow would rely on utilizing her entire weight into the punch. “ i hope your balance is good or we’ll be at this for a while. ”

“ What if fear knocks you? ” Rare are the play on words, but there’s meaning for it, for she knows of how it roots, how it squeezes her with every inch of her life, how she tries to breathe but to no avail, and how she so desperately at times seeks an anchor, only to feel herself carried by the current of the anxiety that bloomed from that one fateful day. “ How do you convert it from that to... something you can use? ”

Is it a lesson to be learnt? Something that comes with practice? Or instinct itself? Carol did not know; sheltered by the life of an Admiral’s daughter, often surrounded by technology, by design and by the flood of information --- rare was it to face a danger she could not control. Rare was it for her to breach the space beyond her safety to that of the worlds beyond.

She was naive.

Carol nods. “ Balance is fine. ” She says without turning, adjusting herself to the stance taught in the Academy. A breath in, then out ( control --- keep breathing, and keep your eyes steady, Carol ). Arm loose, force generated comes only at the end where fingers loose settle in their form, meant to generate impact quick and at the end to reduce the strain at arms, to conserve the energy of the follow through.

#xgamora #carol probably learnt ballet when she was a tiny

SEBASTIAN // @tigermarked

‘ not a chance, princess––– ’ the quip slides off his tongue, close behind the warning she’s shot in his direction; he’ll be safe, theoretically, tucked behind a shield of familiarity and camaraderie. there’s an air of authority, perhaps, in the prick of her gaze, where previously he’d only really find exasperation. ‘ –––or should i be calling you general princess, now? ’

“ General, if you need to call my by any title, is fine. ” One last look, before fingers curl to tuck hair behind her ear. A breath, and then out. Of all the people she could have been partnered with, it had to be him. Keep it professional, Carol. Don’t let him get to you, she warns herself. “ Here, our assignment. ”

#tigermarked #V. AGENT MARCUS

@tigermarked bc i’ve owed you this for ages

She catches it there; a flicker of a moment, and swears that lips pinch and features soften just that little bit. Surprise, and a tease she knows sits and waits against his tongue like a predator that watches it’s prey. She sits, silent, for only two seconds before a look. “ Oh, shut up. ”

#V. AGENT MARCUS #' they call her the general '#' she'll be in the briefing room in fifteen '#tigermarked

AGENT FRANCIS // @gonnabefine

Look, he wants to say, if it’s not bugs, then it’s nothing. But for some reason, he doesn’t relish the idea of being ‘bug guy’ in everybody’s head. Go figure. He’ll save that anecdote for some other time, like ‘his deathbed’ or possibly ‘never’.

“ — I’ll survive.”

Fingers lift to head, come away wet with blood – but not much, just a scratch that will look dashing for a few days until it heals up. There’s no dizziness to it, no sudden nausea: just irritation that he’d pulled his gun too slow, late to realise that there was trouble.

“What’s a few brain cells here and there? You can do the thinking. I’ll just point and shoot.”

" I certainly hope so. ”

The medical team will look after it later. Carol’s hands move instinctively, wariness there despite the fact the other assures her that he’s alright. Call it her caring, something so many believe come second to the puzzle that ‘needed’ to be solved. But it’s brief, and when Agent Francis stands, she gestures for him to follow. “ They went this way. ” A pause. “ Don’t suppose you could ID them? ”

Not entirely necessary, since they’ve entered the building, she hasn’t recalled seeing another soul. Strange, really. Given that this was office hours. But, the thought’s pushed back, an unknown variable in the equation, more data required for the interpolation, extraction and summation.

#gonnabefine #V. AGENT MARCUS

SAM // @duocorpora

She’s small.

Sam would go so far, in fact, as to say that she’s tiny, just intelligence and efficiency and unexpected smiles all wrapped up in a petite frame that invites the world to underestimate. He’s a good foot taller than her, and wide with it, and he’s been dangerous since dad started making him run drills at twelve, since Dean started teaching him to fight at thirteen.

But she wraps her fingers around her wrist and tugs, and he follows like he’s helpless, file still clutched in his other hand, and sits.

“Like magic,” he repeats, and it’s not doubting or derisive, it’s just careful. It’s a thick file, but the number seventy-two surprises him. Seventy-two unsolved deaths, and all the same.

The logistics of some of these time frames.

Something’s weird, here, there’s no questioning that – but his particular brand of weird isn’t often made up of so many complex threads. It’s one thread, and sometimes it’s hard to catch, or name, or even see, but once you’ve got a grip on it, the rest will unravel. This mess seems like every time somebody tugs, it knots itself tighter.

“How long has it been going on for?” he asks. He abandons the file in favour of her words. Easier to find what he’s looking for, there, and to hear the nuances of unspoken thoughts, opinions, information. “Copycat? Multi-generation?”

They fuck you up, your parents, whether they mean to or they don’t: how many psychopaths have twisted sons and daughters into their legacy? Sam tries not to think about the way his father spent his life killing things. How even he, so determined not to be his father’s son, has ended up doing the same.

Hair tucked behind her ear, and she’s turned to look, eyes focused on her reaction as she repeats the words again. “ Like magic. ” The firmness at the back of words tells him that she’s stubborn, that she knows that this is ridiculous, but she’s worked the numbers, she’s repeated the problem till ink stained fingers and iterations in the method give variances at 0.00001.

“ I’m not entirely sure myself, “ Carol admits, brows knit as eyes settle on files in a yellow folder. A gesture towards them. “ Longer than I’ve been involved with the Bureau --- perhaps. I’ve --- files have only been in my hands for three weeks. ” Not even a month. “ It’s not exactly easy to ... acquire the information, so to speak. The operation has perhaps, gone for longer. But names change faster than security IDs. ”

Hand against her face, she cups her hand, lets index finger slide and curl to touch against her lips. “ Too precise. I... wouldn’t believe it’s a copycat. It’s too perfect, too in sync. ” A frown. “ It feels like one person but ... you’d think there’d be some slight variance, generations come with their changes --- adaptation is necessary, or else ... well, they wouldn’t survive. Not with how things are now. ”

#duocorpora #V. AGENT MARCUS

wordsnquotes

Nothing ever ends poetically. It ends and we turn it into poetry. All that blood was never once beautiful. It was just red.

Kait Rokowski (via wordsnquotes)

#khan tag #into darkness tag

COMMANDER SPOCK // @pointyxearedbastard

there’s an air of awkwardness. something, not quite electric, but palpable. the hybrid feels it. almost like a light static on the surface of his skin. senses raised, focus narrowed like a laser in the smallest of details. though perhaps, his sensitivity could be attributed to a hyperawareness of their introduction, including the subsequent thereafter. beginning in what was not the most ideal of circumstances / false names, hidden agendas. and ending, with what is surely a dreadful attribute of at least one commonality they share. khan. ❝ indeed. ❞ spock would rather not discuss that. but instead , ❝ i admit i have been looking forward to engaging you in discussion. ❞ he’s past an irregular flight of stairs, come down three. disregarding his environment save for the doctor and her foremost surroundings. for all that he is notorious for, he is most notably a scientist. eagerness and curiosity, just as a part of his makeup as he is both human and vulcan, ❝ most of the science division is currently preoccupied with assignments, perpetuated by my own request in origin. – - quite obviously, yours was not one of them. ❞ spock is directly in front of her now, off handedly pleased with her analogy, ❝ perhaps, if you are amenable to the idea, you would allow me to assist you. ❞

“ And I yours, Commander. ” she’s sweet, the smile genuine, and truth clear in her words. For they play in the same field and speak the same language: of science, numbers and postulations --- introductions aside, they still share that as their core: curiosity and it’s pursuit.

“ I was wondering about that. “ She admits, with a small frown. “ Captain Kirk said I would get my assignment when I...settled. “ Tiptoes, she knows the way one walks on eggshells, and although there is that irritation ( I can do it, let me handle it! ), she knows that the path of good intentions has it’s reason.

Truth be told, she’s surprised at how much ease and fluidity there was in her being here.

“ So I’ve been busying myself, with this. “ A motion towards the microscope. “ It’s rather fascinating, really. I --- hadn’t anticipated it to work so well so soon. “ Hands stretch, move the lenses for a clearer image. “ Ten thousand magnification, and already we see... this, after three days. “

Hair tucked behind her ear, and hands fold to cross in front of her chest. “ Biology and physics, though not uncommon in their pairing, there is a degree of difficulty. ” It’s not her field. “ An extra pair of hands would do me good. ”

#pointyxearedbastard #V. MAIN ( GENESIS )

AGENT FRANCIS // @gonnabefine

That looks like it hurts.

“ I’m finding it a little difficult believing you. ” She’s extended her hand to help him up, and braces with her other to support the weight. Eyes on him, brief, before she lifts her head to look towards the exit, the door shutting with that soft click, audible in the silence of the corridor they’re in. Concern, etched upon her face, the man a partner recommended for this case ( she’s heard the words ‘ impossible ’ paired with a snigger from ‘ colleagues ’ that consider it cold before they’ve even glanced at the paperwork ). “ Are you alright? ”

#gonnabefine #V. AGENT MARCUS

MR CHEKOV // russianonzebridge

Carol seemed to be putting a lot of faith in his abilities. Of course, there was a lot riding on her plan, and it needed to go off without a hitch, so having that sort of pressure was going to get to him. But he was used to that, having been under his mothers thumb for his entire childhood. Working under pressure was where he was in his element.

“I’ll do my best.” Pavel replied, nodding in response with a smile.

“ Let’s go then. ” A gesture with her head, incline towards the control station mapped out. Time is of the essence and Carol moves with brisk pace ahead. Memory is her friend, and data extrapolation is her forte. Thirty three steps north. Turn west. A door unlocked, they’ll hide for five minutes from round. Then, it’s just sixty eight steps to to the right and skilled hands on security system. A smile of her own. “ Chop chop. ”

#russianonzebridge

SAM // @duocorpora

She seems certain, and Sam accepts her certainty. It’s her job and her life, and despite the shreds of familiarity with this world – some from a life half-lived before it was snatched away, some from fake names and fake badges – she knows better. Sam’s a hunter, not a fed. He dispenses justice of a more direct kind, no need for judge or jury, and no thanks either.

“ – once or twice,” he says, and he can’t help the amusement that curls against his words. Logic loses all reason when faced with a hundred Tuesdays, with ghosts and demons and werewolves and vampires and every sort of creature that they tell children stories about to keep them behaved. “Sometimes you just have to – find the right logic.”

Because even monsters and things that go bump in the night have rules. Tricksters have a sweet tooth. Demons fear the name of Christ and burn under holy water. Werewolves die and vampires, too, if you know how. It’s the world through different lenses, and it makes sense once you look at it just so.

Of course, sometimes, it’s just people.

People aren’t logical. They don’t make sense and they aren’t predictable, and sometimes a person can be more of a monster than anything they hunt. Sometimes they’re broken or twisted or just plain crazy, and sometimes what goes bump in the night is your own shadow, following you.

He puts the laptop down, opens the file she’d pressed to his chest along with it – flicks through, not bothering to read the pages, not yet.

“Tell me.”

The right logic; the right method. She’d only clung to a handful of numerical methods, tried and tested with iteration; one after the next. It piques her curiosity, opens that gate within her mind. But what’s ahead? What track and current lay before her? She’s not sure. Not yet. But, the agent can’t help think that Sam knows a little more than he lets on.

He won’t give her answer, not yet; and perhaps that is an insight gained with time spent together. ‘ I can handle this ’ being that string of words collected, said more than once. Thought supersedes her actions as a hand goes to take his wrist, to pull her to a seat as she sits. Confusion clouds eyes often bright with crystal clear clarity, one often seen even with a problem faced; seemingly impossible puzzles unfolding, shifting, turning.

“ I have --- access to a few files. Cold cases. The unsolved kind. The sort that don’t quite make sense. ” There had been more than she had thought, more than she had anticipated. All of which that stepping stone towards an answer she can’t quite accept. Not yet. There must be reason. Must be logic. Just a matter, as Sam had said --- of finding the right one. “ Only so many questions I can ask before I hit a dead end. ” Lips thin pressed. “ Things don’t make sense --- information’s missing and --- well the logistics of some of these time frames just ---”

Her shoulders lift into a shrug, that first sign of confusion had by the other. “ Like magic. ” A lean forward, her hand gesturing towards the files. “ Seventy two cases with too many dead ends, and red herrings. Seventy two Sam. Exactly the same... but not. ”

#duocorpora #V. AGENT MARCUS

MR CHEKOV // russianonzebridge

“That is not a question you need to ask.” Pavel replied, smiling to put her at ease. He was fine with the plan, it was an elegant solution to their current problem, but he would need her guidance and direction to figure out his part. “I doubt we have any other feasible solutions at this point, so I am on board.”

Now all they needed to do was plan their moves and try to win this match. Checkmate was a distant dream, but they would get there. All it would take was patience and skill.

“ Clarifying, Mr Chekov. I am counting on your mastery at the game and tactical stream here. ” A pause, admission that frustrating thing. There were the age old perks of being the daughter of a once respected admiral, and her curiosity and thirst for knowledge did put her on par with those who understood the art of war and the Federation playbook, but... “ There are some things science track don’t focus on. ”

A smile, with faith placed.

“ It’s in your hands. ” No pressure. “ I need you to get control of the doors and security system --- and I’ll deal with their weapons. ”

#russianonzebridge