(no subject)

[womanofvalue]

WHO: Peggy Carter
WHERE: Outside the Inn
WHEN: Late October 11th
OPEN TO: OTA
WARNINGS: Mature clothing
STATUS: Closed

---

Naughty Surprises

When the box arrives on her doorstep, at first Peggy thinks that perhaps it's simply James' turn for a gift. The package is a small one, the likes of which she'd found her hair items in earlier, and though she still doesn't understand the ability of a prison like this to deliver them such luxuries, she's also not about to turn them away. She's even turned over her shoulder to summon Barnes when she gets a better look at the name on it.

It's her name. Odd, though. After the last few, Peggy can't imagine what more she might require. Certainly, the seeds and the pigeons have been somewhat useful and the hair frivolities are a lovely little treat, but what more could she need? Settling on the front steps in order to open it and find out, she discovers that apparently, there is a cruel streak of humour in whomever is sending her such gifts.

The top two items are practical. They appear to be quite skimpy, but look like they will support her quite well if she decides she wishes to exercise. The shorts and brassiere are not what she's used to, but the concept is quite practical. It's when she goes further to the next layer that has her eyes wide and a look of shock on her face.

"Good God!" she reacts, slamming the box shut instantly. Opening it a moment later, the set is still there, as lurid and red and lacy as before. Fishing the top out, Peggy dangles the strap of an indecent set of bra and panties from her fingertips, which wouldn't cover much on any woman, let alone her. Turning skywards, she regards her strange benefactors with a disbelieving look, as if this is suddenly some awful movie production Howard is manning and he expects her to put on a show.

"If you think I'm putting these on where anyone can see, you've another thing coming," she warns the strange gods above, staring through the holes of the panties and going approximately the same colour red when she sees someone else through them. "Well," she says, as calmly as she can muster, "this is embarrassing."

One Hundred and One...

When Kate and Margaery are found and brought back to safety (albeit somewhat scraped), Peggy finds herself quick to frustration and hating her ineptitude in helping to find them. That, combined with how easily her body slides to weariness is a reminder that she needs to keep up with a much more regimented training plan. While she dislikes running for the sake of exercise, she clads herself in her brand new sports brassiere, the tank top, and scrubs trousers before going for a run.

What she would like most of all is something to take out her aggression on. There had been nothing better than the punching bag at Howard's mansion to finish a day with, allowing her fists to take out all the fury she can manage. The best she can do here is a pillow she's absconded with, but the punches feel light and she gives up someway through when it's nowhere near the sort of satisfying she's aiming for.

In her mind, she can hear Howard's voice (a ghost of itself) as it asks Peggy, does Jarvis know that you can do 107 one armed pushups? and it makes her absurdly homesick for a set of people, but also gives her a determined goal to try and best.

It's been some time since she set that record for herself, but there's no time like the present to try and beat it, especially since sparring seems out of the question when the pillow is hardly fighting back. Pinning her hair back to keep it from her face, Peggy settles herself on the ground in order to begin, winding her way through the first four sets of ten with ease, but as she begins to hit seventy, then eighty, she finds herself flagging.

"Bloody Nora, they weren't always this hard," she mutters under her breath, arm trembling as she refuses to give up just yet. This is what she gets for ignoring her regiment as long as she has, and with a loud cry of frustration, her arm gives out and she goes to her stomach on the barely-dried ground, accepting that she'll be doing quite a bit of laundry after this. Staring up, she lets out a long sigh and wishes for Howard's gym facilities, not for the first time.

you could taste heaven perfectly; [OTA]

[king_in_the_north]

WHO: Robb Stark
WHERE: The field
WHEN: October 12, morning
OPEN TO: OTA
WARNINGS: n/a
STATUS: Closed to new threads

---

There had come a point approximately three days ago when Robb had legitimately begun to wonder whether the rain was ever going to cease. Never in all of his life had he ever even heard of such rain, from dawn to dusk and all through the night, an unending torrent that kept the skies murky gray and made the days smudge disconcertingly into one another.

When he'd woken today, something had felt off -- Just a bit to the left of where it ought to be. It had taken several drowsy minutes of laying in his bed, listening to the earnest warbles of the early birds to realize that the strangeness was that the rain had stopped. He'd almost not believed it, had felt certain he'd step outside and find the shower was simply lighter than before, but there was nothing but an early-morning mist rambling across the lawn and the first soft rays of sunlight smearing over the broken clouds.

And gods, it was practically blissful to step down onto the front walk and stay dry. It didn't even bother him that there was now so much to do, so much time to be made up as hastily as possible. The serendipitous feeling wouldn't hold, he understood that well enough, but he might as well throw himself into what needed to be done while it lasted. Winter was coming.

He'd still not grown relaxed enough to work without a shirt on, but he was down to his sleeveless undershirt today, the white long ago turned to gray and now streaked with dirt as he applied himself to working amongst the beans in the humid mud of the field. It was early yet, but he had a feeling that the small group of them out there would quickly grow once the sun was properly up.