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Post by DarkSideCookie on Jun 9, 2021 13:12:17 GMT -8
Helen (tempplay by DarkSideCookie) "Thank you, Helen, that's very kind,""But I don't wish to impose any more than I already have."Helen might be a curious person, but she also was one who didn't press things. The offer got made. If there would come a day that Birdie wanted to talk, she will know where to find an open ear. "So, um, back in the States, were you working or going to university for something?""I mean, taking care of this house is probably a full-time job, even with help. But you didn't have to give up anything for this smirking Sokovian prince, did you?"Helen had to smile at the title she gave her husband. He really should contemplate adding it to his baron title, she joked inwardly, then focused back on the question. "Fortunately, I could take my work with me. I'm even happier with my clientele here. People can't afford a lot, so I had to adjust the prices, but I feel like it's much more personal, familial even. I mean, I know that I'm not anymore dependent on it. I just love what I do. Oh - speaking of," Helen paused with a chuckle, realizing that she hadn't yet talked about what she actually loved to do. "Painting that is. The passion for art was immediately something that Helmut and I shared."
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Post by Kristi Lynne on Jun 11, 2021 16:23:33 GMT -8
"...I mean, I know that I'm not anymore dependent on it. I just love what I do. Oh - speaking of, painting that is. The passion for art was immediately something that Helmut and I shared."
"Ah! Well, that's...very sweet," Sophie commented, as another piece of the complex Zemo puzzle fell into place. No doubt the artwork that adorned the walls and hallways of his home were as carefully curated as the contents of his liquor cabinet. So why choose the life of a soldier, when a life of carefree comfort was already there? Was it a calling, or a compulsion?
"I'm afraid art isn't my forte," she added with a self-deprecating sigh. "I can only say what I like or don't like. And I do like everything here, really," she asserted, chuckling as she twirled a hand to indicate the space around them. "I'm sure you can't wait to teach your little one how to paint as well. Do you know yet if it's a boy or girl?"
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Post by DarkSideCookie on Jun 17, 2021 9:10:48 GMT -8
Helen (tempplay by DarkSideCookie) "I'm afraid art isn't my forte,""I can only say what I like or don't like. And I do like everything here, really,"Helen followed her gesturing towards the space around them, smiling at Birdie's statement. Most people she knew were like that. Appreciating the works, even sometimes were willing to spend a lot of money for those they liked, but not looking at them like she or Helmut did. And that was fine. That way, she could even see it as the one thing that they were sharing while everybody else thought of them to be kind of quirky. Just their thing. Every couple needed a thing, she thought. At least one. "I'm sure you can't wait to teach your little one how to paint as well. Do you know yet if it's a boy or girl?""It's a boy," she replied as she paused the stirring for another moment, looking down at her belly. "Carl." She smiled, then turned fully back around to Birdie. "And I'd be glad to, but also fine if he becomes interested in anything completely different, as long as whatever that will be is making him happy. Well," Helen chuckled, powering off the stove in front of her, "I probably should not muse about adult Carl too much, right? He'll be having many years ahead to find out where he belongs." For a moment, a worried expression appeared on her features, after all. Sometimes she wondered if Sokovia was the right place for a child to grow up, but she never would say so to her husband because Helen knew that this was the place where he and his family belonged. She also knew that, never mind how much of a failed state it was, he wouldn't want to leave it behind. And that was fine with her. But still, was it the best for their son?
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Post by Kristi Lynne on Jun 19, 2021 14:14:13 GMT -8
"It's a boy. Carl. And I'd be glad to, but also fine if he becomes interested in anything completely different, as long as whatever that will be is making him happy. Well, I probably should not muse about adult Carl too much, right? He'll be having many years ahead to find out where he belongs."
"Oh, I think it's quite natural to want a bright future for your son. I'm sure your husband feels the same," Sophie said. "No doubt that's part of the reason why he works so hard." At clearing this country of terrorist scumbags, she mused. But there came a point when a poor, unstable country such as Sokovia would collapse under the weight of its own corruption or be overtaken by one or more of its hostile neighbors.
"It's none of my business, obviously," Sophie began hesitantly, "so feel free to ignore everything I'm about to say, but... I imagine your parents would love to be a part of Carl's life. He would have dual American citizenship, right? And Pittsburgh doesn't seem like a bad place to raise a family. I mean, you turned out pretty well. It's just a thought."
She concluded her chopping and scooped the cubes of potatoes into a nearby bowl. "I think I'll go and lie down for a bit," she advised. "I'll see you at dinner." She extracted herself from the chair, awkwardly placing the crutches under her arms again, and departed the kitchen.
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Post by DarkSideCookie on Jun 23, 2021 5:25:53 GMT -8
Helen (tempplay by DarkSideCookie) "It's none of my business, obviously, so feel free to ignore everything I'm about to say, but..."Helen turned her head back in her direction, the same hesitant way like Birdie chose her words. Deep down, she needed somebody to tell her that her worrying was valid; That she wasn't just an overanxious person. Helen had a feeling that this was the moment where one would prove that to her. Helen had a guess what she was about to say, to suggest maybe even, yet she felt conflicted about it. "I imagine your parents would love to be a part of Carl's life. He would have dual American citizenship, right? And Pittsburgh doesn't seem like a bad place to raise a family. I mean, you turned out pretty well. It's just a thought."And that was exactly the same thought that had been going through Helen's mind for the whole time of her pregnancy already. Was it so wrong to want only the best life for their son? She knew that his family and this place meant a lot to Helmut, but, as Birdie had been pointing out, he certainly cared the same about their child's future. Helen was still deep into thoughts, for the first time considering to actually bring this topic up next time he'd be back home when their guest extracted herself from the kitchen chair after she had finished the chopping. "I think I'll go and lie down for a bit,""I'll see you at dinner.""Oh, of course," Helen replied with a smile, allowing her worries to disappear back into the background. For now, at least. "Take your time. Food can always be warmed up." It was only when Birdie had left the room that the worries came back to her mind. Yeah, Helmut surely would be seeing it the same way... ***
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Post by DarkSideCookie on Jun 23, 2021 6:24:17 GMT -8
*** A couple of days later ***
For the felt first time, Zemo had had to leave work unfinished, a mission incomplete. He could have, had wanted to, but knew that if he had killed that man, they wouldn't be able to seek proof that Sophie wasn't working for him. Zemo might not even yet have for himself, but he remembered the panic in her eyes when they had been talking things through. It had been real. However, now she would get a chance to prove that she was trustworthy and willing to work with him. And here he was silently hoping that she would while he actually wasn't used to working with anybody, not if there was a way to do things alone and his own way. He only still had to bring her into the loop, about the little things he had found out already, but especially the things he needed help with to find out more. Her help, in the best case. Helen was still watching his hand in worry as they sat in the kitchen, both sipping tea. "It's alright, honey," Zemo replied her consistent looks down to the wound, covered with a bandage now. This was nothing. Just one of the little things one put up with for the greater good. At least, it was not his leg. They couldn't afford to have two people around who went on crutches. Speaking of... "So, how's... Birdie?" Zemo almost had called her by her real name. "Is Oeznik still alive?" Although this was meant jokingly, there was a spark of worry in his eyes, after all.
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Post by Kristi Lynne on Jun 23, 2021 15:31:08 GMT -8
"It's alright, honey...."
Sophie had been ready to stroll into the kitchen, or more accurately hobble with the help of a cane that had replaced her crutches, but she froze and flattened herself beside the doorway when she realized the room was occupied. Not just by Helen but by her husband as well. Zemo was back. Which had to be a good thing, she told herself. His return meant Zarif's punishment and her redemption. His self-declared mission must have succeeded. Of course, none of the joy and relief that now threatened to burst out of her chest could be allowed to show in front of Helen. For a time, she stayed there to calm her breathing and smooth her appearance, eavesdropping on whispered conversation between the happy couple as they caught up over tea.
"So, how's... Birdie? Is Oeznik still alive?"
And that was her cue. "Oeznik is fine," Sophie informed him, limping her way into the kitchen. She offered Zemo a congenial smile, to which he responded with a flicking upward of his eyebrows. The gesture paired with the self-assured twinkle in his eyes that seemed to casually brush aside all her concerns and worries with the non-verbal taunt of 'Did you dare to doubt me?' And suddenly she felt herself at a loss for words, like a silly teenage girl with a crush. She was projecting -- that was all. He was her salvation and her support and for a time had been her only friend in the world. But it was far too dangerous for him to sense he had that power.
"And Oeznik should probably get a raise with all the fetching and carrying he's had to do for me," she added, opening the refrigerator door to retrieve a bottle of sparkling water, but also to break her gaze from his. Remove the tempting flame from the smitten moth, as it were. When she felt sufficiently composed, she turned back around to the couple.
"Oh, and your wife's been giving me art appreciation lessons," Sophie proclaimed. "I'm quite fond of the Mondrian in your study, and I was never really a fan of Cubism."
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Post by DarkSideCookie on Jun 25, 2021 11:25:26 GMT -8
"Oeznik is fine,"
Zemo turned around in the direction the familiar voice had come from. For a moment, both their eyes met in a way like they were having a silent conversation of their own, one expressing gratitude and... honest appreciation, he guessed, and the other, himself, answering that with a self-assured taunt as if to ask if she had really doubted him. Zemo was, in fact, so cocksure of himself and his successes that, if they knew each other for longer, he might actually feel a little bummed about her obviously having had doubtful thoughts while he'd been gone.
"And Oeznik should probably get a raise with all the fetching and carrying he's had to do for me,"
Zemo also turned his gaze away from Sophie when she walked past them on her way to the refrigerator, yet, in his case, not because he felt uncomfortable with the eye contact but because he spotted Oeznik nearing the kitchen as well. He couldn't help but allow the corner of his lips to raise into another smirk.
"Oh, and your wife's been giving me art appreciation lessons,""I'm quite fond of the Mondrian in your study, and I was never really a fan of Cubism."
At that, his eyes almost darted back towards Sophie. Once he realized that this sudden concern he felt might be a bit too obvious written on his face, Zemo tried to ease his features again. But, to be honest, he rather not wanted the two women to bond with each other too much, as eccentric that might sound. But, as far as he could tell, this woman seemed like a curious person and, as he knew well enough, his wife was a blab; Not a good combo.
Although Zemo didn't exactly fear Helen to interject here with something that could bring him into an uncomfortable situation, he still preferred to take over control of the situation again himself. "Oeznik," he spoke to the butler, seemingly about to only pass the kitchen but, once being addressed, walking in as well.
"It's good to see you back, Sir," Oeznik replied with a gracious smile and a slight nod.
Suddenly a crooked smile appeared on Zemo's face, one that - or so he thought at least - nobody but Oeznik and himself would be able to fathom, not because of the expression itself but because of the different language he was using for his next words. "Und? Ist es wahr, dass Briten ihren Tee mit Milch verunreinigen und fünf Stunden zum Ankleiden brauchen? In beiden Fällen hoffe ich, dass du das nicht auch übernehmen musstest."*
-------------------------- * translation from German: "So? Is it true that British people botch up their tea with milk and need five hours to get dressed? In both cases, I hope she didn't ask you to take care of that for her as well."
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Post by Kristi Lynne on Jun 25, 2021 14:53:28 GMT -8
And wasn't Sophie the slightest bit delighted that she could make Zemo squirm by wondering just exactly what and how much she and Helen had been discussing in his absence. She hid her own self-satisfied smirk behind the bottle as she turned it up to her lips. Of course, she hadn't been in full-on intel-gathering mode because that would have been rude. And she had no plans to take advantage of Helen's genuine openness, no matter what horrific confessions he was imagining.
"Oeznik!"
"It's good to see you back, Sir."
"Und? Ist es wahr, dass Briten ihren Tee mit Milch verunreinigen und fünf Stunden zum Ankleiden brauchen? In beiden Fällen hoffe ich, dass du das nicht auch übernehmen musstest."
Her ears perked up at his remarks to the butler. It wasn't English, Sokovian, or even Russian. No, Zemo was speaking German to his butler. And of course he was certain that he wasn't being understood by his wife or his guest. She looked forward to pointing out that tactical mistake to him. But not just yet. Not when she could hear his unvarnished opinion of her, or rather the British in general.
"Oeznik, whatever your boss just said about me," Sophie interjected, feigning ignorance. "I want you to know that I'm the one who told him you deserved a raise." She turned her attention from the butler back to Zemo. "Well, I am very excited to hear all about your trip, but I did not mean to interrupt. So you two crazy kids finish catching up, and I will talk to you later." She gave them both a pleasant smile, and Oeznik a friendly pat on the shoulder, before heading back to her room to wait patiently. Or perhaps, not so patiently.
*** Sophie leaves for the Guest Room ***
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Post by DarkSideCookie on Jun 28, 2021 1:32:16 GMT -8
"Oeznik, whatever your boss just said about me,""I want you to know that I'm the one who told him you deserved a raise."Zemo's smirk grew wider yet his gaze remained on Oeznik, who, for his part, now seemed to feel a little uncomfortable, probably not so much because of the things his boss said - by this point, he'd started to get used to that kind of humor - but rather because he had allowed himself to smirk as well. At least, their guest had understood no word, or so they thought. "Well, I am very excited to hear all about your trip, but I did not mean to interrupt. So you two crazy kids finish catching up, and I will talk to you later."At that, Zemo's attention turned back to Sophie, after all, answering with no more than a slight nod of his head, though. She had questions. Of course, she had. So had he. But what he also had was time, especially when he was just enjoying a cup of tea. Not long after Sophie had left, Oeznik did the same, resuming in his tasks. "You wanna tell me what you just said?" Helen eventually asked with a shake of her head, yet a slight smile of amusement on her face. He gave her only a sideglance before uttering a light chuckle, continuing what he did before: enjoying his cup of tea in silence. "I remember what I missed these last couple of days: Receiving no answers." Of course, her words were meant jokingly, and so was her expression, yet sometimes this attitude was driving Helen crazy indeed. ***
*** A while later ***
And yet again was Zemo finding himself hesitantly standing in front of his own door, ready to knock on it. He was not used to having guests around, especially not pretty blondes, wearing his wife's dresses. He shook this thought off his mind before finally letting her know that he was ready for their private chat. Patiently, Zemo waited for an answer from inside, not wanting to catch her in the time frame of the five-hour dressing. He smirked in silence.
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Post by Kristi Lynne on Jun 28, 2021 13:57:59 GMT -8
"Hi!" Sophie greeted as she threw open the door, probably with far more enthusiasm than was due. But she'd been pacing the floor, trying to strengthen her leg muscles but also to work off her nervous energy in anticipation of their meeting. She stood aside to allow Zemo to enter the room and then shut the door behind him.
"Okay, firstly, rude," she declared. "Ich brauche keine fünf Stunden zum Anziehen. Und wie ich meinen Tee trinke, geht nur mich etwas an." * She crossed her arms in mock sternness, reveling in the reveal that speaking German would not help him keep his secrets. "My first international posting was Berlin Station. You'll have to find another language to insult me in, love."
Sophie moved past him to take a seat on one end of the couch, leaving the other half open to him. "And secondly, are you alright?" she sincerely asked. That was her first concern; everything else could wait. She'd already felt a pang of guilt when she noticed the bandage on his hand. The rest of him seemed fine. More than fine, really. And after a tense inhale, the rest of the questions just sort of tumbled out. "What happened with Zarif? Did you take him into custody? Is he talking? Will he stay in Sokovia, or be extradited back to England?"
_______________________ *Translation from German: "It does not take me five hours to get dressed, and the way I take my tea is my own business"
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Post by DarkSideCookie on Jun 30, 2021 4:55:30 GMT -8
Zemo was visibly surprised when, instead of a muffled answering of his knock through the closed door, it got torn open, with Sophie looking straight back at him.
"Hi!"
For a moment, an almost coy expression lay on his face, yet as soon as she continued speaking, it changed back to surprise, this time even utterly.
"Okay, firstly, rude,""Ich brauche keine fünf Stunden zum Anziehen. Und wie ich meinen Tee trinke, geht nur mich etwas an."
Zemo looked back at her in silence, unsure what to say or even think. He hadn't expected that. And before he could have regained his steely composure, still not sure, though, if he was going to smirk or continuing to just look kind of caught, Sophie went on with an explanation of her ability to speak German.
"My first international posting was Berlin Station. You'll have to find another language to insult me in, love."
At the last part, the famous smirk came back to his features, after all. "Fair."
Once she was moving past him, he eased a little. Not that she would have made him seriously nervous or something, maybe only a bit, but he rather was the dishing and not the taking kind of person, or actually, he was just not used to it. In some way, this was even refreshing, Zemo realized with another smirk before making slow steps towards the other half of the couch himself, yet stopping next to it instead.
"And secondly, are you alright?"
"Oh, this?" Zemo asked back as he pointed down at his hand. "It's nothing." Then, before he even could have gotten started on the answers she undoubtedly was dying to hear, or to even take a seat in the first place, Sophie blustered forth with the whole question catalog at once. This again. While she did, Zemo used the chance to take one deep breath, not in annoyance but a mere expression of this not being the way they would be doing it.
"What happened with Zarif? Did you take him into custody? Is he talking? Will he stay in Sokovia, or be extradited back to England?"
And yet again, like already done before, Zemo wordlessly reached one hand out to Sophie's mouth to cover it up and make her stop the verbal rollercoaster, while taking a seat on the couch in a makeshift way. "Nah-ah-ah..." he uttered in his usual calm yet, this time, even slightly authoritative way as he watched her eyes widening. "Firstly, you must stop this. Secondly," Zemo continued, finally releasing his fingers from her lips, "I assure you that he's being taken care of as we speak. So," he then continued even more calmly and with his hands rubbed together, returning into a standing position once again. "Let's see if there's still something left to drink to that." With a grin forming on his lips, Zemo neared the cupboard with the liquors, honestly not even going to take it amiss on her if she really would have helped herself here. A shot in the limb really sucked a lot. To that, he could relate.
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Post by Kristi Lynne on Jul 1, 2021 17:07:43 GMT -8
"Nah-ah-ah... Firstly, you must stop this.”
And yet again, Zemo employed that Jedi mind trick of placing his silencing fingers on her lips. It would be infuriating if it didn’t prove so effective. But unlike the last time he tried it, she would put up more of a fight once he had retracted his calming hand. Because Sophie found it a little annoying that he was being so casual about her life hanging in the balance.
“Secondly, I assure you that he's being taken care of as we speak. So, …. Let's see if there's still something left to drink to that.”
“I'm sorry, what? ‘He’s being taken care of’?” she quoted as he walked away toward the liquor cabinet. “What does that even mean?! Zemo, I spent months following and studying that psychopath for the express purpose of locking him away in a deep dark hole for the rest of his life. I think I'm owed some details. Like whether or not I'm still being accused of colluding with a terrorist."
She huffed when it seemed like all her protests were landing on his back and falling with no impact whatsoever. He finally turned back to her, holding a bottle in each hand with a questioning look on his face. "Uh, that one," she suggested, pointing to the one in his left hand. "Please," she added, lest he think her impolite and impatient.
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Post by DarkSideCookie on Jul 9, 2021 15:33:33 GMT -8
“I'm sorry, what? ‘He’s being taken care of’?”“What does that even mean?! Zemo, I spent months following and studying that psychopath for the express purpose of locking him away in a deep dark hole for the rest of his life. I think I'm owed some details. Like whether or not I'm still being accused of colluding with a terrorist."
Zemo wasn't reacting to her ongoing question or not question catalog at all. Instead, he, yet again, looked like he was taking stock at the cabinet with the liquor inside. Everything was still in its place. Remarkable. He threw one short look back at Sophie, silently wondering if Oeznik had brought her some of the really expensive stuff instead or if she was just not a drinking person, not even with a painful leg. Finally, Zemo drew his attention towards two bottles he considered appropriate for a drink to an occasion like theirs.
"Uh, that one," she answered his questioning look, whereupon a smirk formed on his lips; Not only because of her excellent choice but also because she was allowing him to do this toast with her in the first place. "Please." The smirk grew wider for a moment.
Zemo took his time to open the bottle with a number on its label, well remembering her words from before but just not going for this question-and-answer game she wanted to do. "Cuarenta y tres*," he designated annoyingly calm and with a remarkable good pronunciation while filling two glasses with the almost golden-colored liquid. "This is even allowed to get mixed with milk," Zemo added with a mischievous grin as he handed one of the glasses to Sophie, clinking his own to hers once she had received it. "But we don't have any, so I guess you have to take careful sips." This was, of course, only to provoke her a little since he already knew that she could knock down a drink while keeping a straight face. Also, he would be going to answer some of her questions... after they had shared this drink, that was. "Prost**," he said, then downing his own drink in one.
_______________________ *Translation from Spanish: forty-three (brand of a Spanish liqueur with spices and a vanilla note) ** Translation from German: "Cheers!"
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Post by Kristi Lynne on Jul 10, 2021 5:31:06 GMT -8
"Cuarenta y tres. This is even allowed to get mixed with milk. But we don't have any, so I guess you have to take careful sips. Prost."
“Cheers,” Sophie countered, raising her glass in turn while showing a slightly stubborn adherence to her native tongue in the face of Zemo’s seemingly effortless shifts from one language to another. And this time she did take measured sips of the offered drink as she wished to keep clear-headed and focused and conversationally agile.
They had played out this same scene, not so long ago, and yet the circumstances had changed. They were no longer so dire, so urgent. There was room to breathe, or at least he seemed confident that their problem was solved. Her problem, more accurately, but to his credit one that he had chosen to make his own. And there was a surprising awareness that she’d missed him. But how could you miss someone you didn’t even know? Perhaps that was the explanation – she hadn’t known him long enough to be intimately familiar with his faults and failings, nor he with hers. Perhaps ignorance with a side of fine European liqueur was bliss.
“You know, now that we’re such good drinking buddies, I feel like I can point out that this whole --" Sophie said, her free hand encircling the air in front of the man now sitting beside her, "-- evasive, cryptic thing is not nearly as charming as you might think." She gave him a wry grin before taking another sip, to assure him that she was speaking in sarcasm, before her expression then turned serious. "Can you at least tell me whether or not I’m back in the Queen’s good graces?”
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Post by DarkSideCookie on Jul 12, 2021 8:21:47 GMT -8
“You know, now that we’re such good drinking buddies, I feel like I can point out that this whole --"
Zemo tilted his head in anticipation of what was about to come.
"-- evasive, cryptic thing is not nearly as charming as you might think."
A smirk was forming around his lips while he reached out to the bottle to refill his glass, this time taking only sips as well. It was always nice to have an opportunity at hand, or in your hand at the best, in case she had other remarks of this sort waiting in line. He was not exactly feeling uncomfortable with this way of conversing, but it was more like a habit to busy himself whilst keeping his cool and, of course, not answering that.
"Can you at least tell me whether or not I’m back in the Queen’s good graces?”
"As for that," Zemo finally spoke up again as well, still annoyingly calm for sure, "I might need you to help me helping you." He made a pause to take another sip of the drink in his hand before putting the half-emptied glass down on the table in front of them, using his now free hands to produce something from the breast pocket of his shirt; An USB stick. "How good are you with computer stuff?" Zemo suddenly asked, holding the little device up between them. The fact that he was calling it computer stuff was probably proof enough that, however good or not good her skills were, they still would be better than his.
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Post by Kristi Lynne on Jul 13, 2021 2:27:41 GMT -8
"As for that, I might need you to help me helping you. How good are you with computer stuff?"
“Uh, probably better than someone who uses the term ‘computer stuff’,” Sophie replied, mimicking his Sokovian accent on the highly advanced tech jargon. She eyed the little silver rectangle in his grasp expectantly. “You got Zarif’s files?” she asked hopefully, and he nodded in affirmation. “Clever boy.”
She took the offered flash drive with an appreciative smile and turned her attention to the laptop that was sitting on the coffee table. The screen opened to a paused scene from The Bachelor, and she prepared herself for the incoming mockery. “What? I was bored, and Helen let me borrow this,” she protested.
Having plugged the flash drive into the proper port, she tapped the keys that would allow them to see what secrets it held. As they both waited for the computer to process, she decided to brave the next question. "So, Zarif, is he still above ground, or...y'know...?" she inquired, dragging a finger across her throat. Honestly, she was fine with either outcome. She'd prefer him to be alive and talking, but certainly wouldn't shed a tear if Zemo had seen fit to terminate him with extreme prejudice.
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Post by DarkSideCookie on Jul 18, 2021 8:31:01 GMT -8
“Uh, probably better than someone who uses the term ‘computer stuff’,”
He smirked, not feeling offended at all. Zemo had never made a secret about his lack of knowledge of 'computer stuff' while, at the same time, no effort to improve on that. He knew who to contact and where to get the help he needed, which made him fare well with being seen as a noob. Zemo had lots of other qualities to make up for that and which he made no secret of, either.
“You got Zarif’s files?” Zemo replied that with no more than a nod. “Clever boy.”
Once Sophie had received the stick from his hand, he picked the glass back up from the table, luckily finishing the little movement right in time to get a glimpse at the screen image on the laptop opening next to him. He smirked again but didn't say anything.
“What? I was bored, and Helen let me borrow this,”
Without a reaction to that, or maybe his non-reaction actually was reaction enough, Zemo took another sip of the drink in his hands, patiently waiting for Sophie to do the magic trick with the computer.
"So, Zarif, is he still above ground, or...y'know...?"
At Sophie's gesturing, his features, for once, took on an expression that was a little bit more than just a smirk, still rather economical yet more openly than before. Zemo became serious again, though, once he launched into an answer to that. "I've decided that he would be more useful to us alive." After a short pause, Zemo added more quietly and rather to himself: "For a while, at least." Before Sophie could have said anything again, he went on with a question of his own, pointing at the screen in front of her. "So?" That was it. Back to his economic way of conversing, at least when it came to anything business-related, same as to things too private to be talked about for his liking.
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Post by Kristi Lynne on Jul 18, 2021 10:55:23 GMT -8
"I've decided that he would be more useful to us alive. For a while, at least. ... So?"
Sophie nodded to signify her agreement with his decision. Though it might have seemed strange, she didn't really want that blood on Zemo's hands. Not on her account, at least. And not while he could still provide information about his co-conspirators.
"Well, whatever was on his computer will probably tell us more than he ever would, willingly," she remarked. “There has to be something in here that can prove he had no contact with me. Maybe we can even find out who he did have contact with, on my team or yours.” It might be wishful thinking on her part, and it would likely take time and patience. But since her injured status had forced her out of the field, she now had plenty of both.
Window after window, folder after folder opened on the computer screen to display their contents, but none of it was legible. “All of it’s encrypted, which is not surprising,” she told Zemo as he observed. “Zarif's a sadist but he's not stupid. But I’ve got a friend in Argentina. Took a particularly nasty piece of malware as a parting gift when he defected from Russia and left the FSB. Called it the ‘Skeleton Key’ because it opens all locked doors. It’ll only take a few minutes to install and initiate it."
Once she'd managed to download the program and start it running, Sophie took up her glass again and sank back into her seat. "So...where did the family business take you this time?" she inquired, curious as to where his wife had been told he'd gone.
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Post by DarkSideCookie on Jul 29, 2021 3:32:50 GMT -8
Zemo watched with patient silence as her fingers flew over the keys, opening window after window and folder after folder. He felt like already getting dizzy from watching only. Knowing that Sophie would let him in potential information she found or found not, Zemo remained quiet until she finally did.
“All of it’s encrypted, which is not surprising,”
"You got this," he threw in rather mumbling before he took another sip of the drink in his hands.
“Zarif's a sadist but he's not stupid. But I’ve got a friend in Argentina. Took a particularly nasty piece of malware as a parting gift when he defected from Russia and left the FSB. Called it the ‘Skeleton Key’ because it opens all locked doors. It’ll only take a few minutes to install and initiate it."
She received another look from him as if he was silently repeating the same thing he said before. Usually, Zemo preferred to retain control of whatever situation, but, in this case, it was not so important to know what exactly she was saying or doing, as long as she would find something out, about which he had no doubt she will.
"So...where did the family business take you this time?"
It was written on his face that he didn't like this topic of conversation. Lying to his wife could be called his weak point. He did it, and he was good at doing it, both facts for which he hated himself at times. He didn't need someone reminding him of that guilt all around the clock, although Zemo knew that Sophie was just trying to converse. Slowly placing his glass back on the table, he suddenly was more focused on Sophie. "I prefer to stick to the truth as much as I can, location-wise." He sighed, then went on with a question of his own, unusually personally, yet he felt that this was only fair by looking at the percentage she already got from his private life. Zemo didn't even want to know how much that might have increased while he was gone, and her only conversation partner been his wife. "Have you ever had to lie to someone you know would never keep anything a secret from you?" Of course, you never knew, but he was pretty sure that, even if Helen tried, she would fail in keeping something from him for long. Before Sophie could have answered that, though, especially because he feared that could backfire as for the conversation still be about himself, Zemo added smirkingly and slightly curious even: "What actually does Mr. Birdie think his wife is doing while he sits and waits in some rainy place, sipping his tea with milk?"
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Post by Kristi Lynne on Jul 29, 2021 16:16:44 GMT -8
"Have you ever had to lie to someone you know would never keep anything a secret from you?"
Sophie was taken aback by this sudden statement of vulnerability from a man who seemed otherwise invulnerable. She imagined it was a sight that Zemo allowed to only a privileged few. Could that actually include her? And what had she done to merit such a reward? True, lying to a loved one was something she also hated doing, but that was how she made sense of having fewer family and friends in close contact. The performance was something that got easier with practice and the experience of minimizing the consequences. Although sometimes she didn’t know the woman looking back at her in the mirror at any given time.
"What actually does Mr. Birdie think his wife is doing while he sits and waits in some rainy place, sipping his tea with milk?"
When that familiar smirk returned along with a comment of British contempt, she uttered a short laugh and took another sip of her drink. “Oh, you mean my charming yet short-tempered fictional husband, Matthew? I believe he’s enjoying an extended stay in Novi Grad police custody.” She glanced back at the computer screen to check that the program was still running. She noted that they were still dancing around the details of Zarif's fate and she had no intention to push. The foundations of this relationship, such as it was, were being laid and Zemo had made it clear that she would be told what she needed to know when he believed she needed to know it. Those were terms she could live with, for now.
“For what it’s worth, I don’t like lying to your wife, either," Sophie shared, referring to his earlier question. "But I understand why you do it. To protect her. She reminds me of my sister, Emilia." She inhaled and prepared herself to lay another card of hers down on the table between them. "Younger than me by ten years. Emilia is an open book, always was. She’s in university now studying to be a nurse. Thick as thieves when we were growing up but when I was enlisted, she understood that I couldn’t tell her everything about what I was doing. Then when I joined MI-6, there was even less I could tell her. It's made for quite a distance between us. Emilia is utterly convinced that she can change the world. I haven’t the heart to tell her bullets will always be more effective than bandages and blood drives.”
On that cynical note, she downed the rest of her drink but didn't relinquish the glass just yet. She imagined it like an hourglass and once it was empty, their conversation would be over. So she continued clutching it to her chest.
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Post by DarkSideCookie on Aug 1, 2021 7:04:22 GMT -8
“Oh, you mean my charming yet short-tempered fictional husband, Matthew? I believe he’s enjoying an extended stay in Novi Grad police custody.”
Honestly? No, that wasn't what he had meant. But Zemo pretended that his question had supposed to mean just that while he couldn't tell if she was only pretending as well, interpreting it that way so that she didn't have to answer the question regarding her non-fictional relationship status, or actually underestimated his curiosity about her private life. Why he was so interested in that in the first place? Surely not because of what people would think. She was, unquestionably, a beautiful, smart, and even funny woman. Just like he was a married man and had no intention to flirt with other women. Anyways, his interest was rather aroused from a thought of fairness as for knowing a little bit more about her after she had gotten the chance to interview Helen about their private life. Zemo couldn't know for sure, of course, but he had a feeling Sophie might have asked one or two questions. And knowing his wife, she might have received two or three answers to them. So this was just about a principle of proportionality.
When Sophie broke eye contact with him, checking the computer screen next to them instead, Zemo used the chance to busy himself again as well by pouring some more liquor into the glass he had replaced on the table only seconds ago. By the time he had screwed the cap back onto the bottle, Sophie was speaking up again.
“For what it’s worth, I don’t like lying to your wife, either,""But I understand why you do it. To protect her. She reminds me of my sister, Emilia."
Without taking a sip, Zemo let the glass in his hand sink back on the table, only having half raised it towards his lips yet anyway. She wasn't talking about a husband or a partner, but still about family. A sister. Emilia even. Zemo almost felt honored to be given a name along with the private information he hadn't even asked for. Were they starting to trust each other enough to break their own rules? Well, okay, strictly spoken, those rules didn't go for mission partners, but he had a feeling that she preferred to keep things to herself no matter what, just like himself. Zemo hadn't even realized that, not until now, but there was something about her that gave him kind of a safe feeling. A feeling of trust. He still had no idea where this was all leading them but was even looking forward to a potential partnership with this woman, maybe even beyond this helping-her-out mission to clear her name.
"Younger than me by ten years. Emilia is an open book, always was. She’s in university now studying to be a nurse. Thick as thieves when we were growing up but when I was enlisted, she understood that I couldn’t tell her everything about what I was doing. Then when I joined MI-6, there was even less I could tell her. It's made for quite a distance between us. Emilia is utterly convinced that she can change the world. I haven’t the heart to tell her bullets will always be more effective than bandages and blood drives.”
"Sometimes it's better to spare them from the bloody truth, up to a certain extent, at least," Zemo said with a stern expression, no more sign of smirking on his face. The certain extent he was talking about was including the narrow degree self-declared heroes like this Iron Man figure were walking on, fighting on their own as well, yet not to protect anyone from the truth but only because they were too ignorant to even consider the consequences of their actions affecting the little people.
Out of the corner of his eyes, Zemo noticed that, for a moment, Sophie seemed to be caught in rather dark thoughts as well. Without saying anything, he took the bottle back up and allowed himself to refill the glass in her hand. "Sorry, but you were looking like you could need one more," he said as he replaced the bottle on the table, turning his attention back to her at last, this time waiting with the drinking and, instead, going for more words. "What I do is telling myself that letting them in... would cause much more damage than not to." And with that, he didn't even mean the potential danger from enemies, or not only. Would one really want to live with the knowledge about what they had to do day in day out to protect their land from the scum around? Wouldn't that, in the end, lead to an even greater distance? Zemo didn't know, but he also didn't want to find out. That was why he preferred to stick to the old course that he knew; Of which he had become an expert at this point. With something almost broken in his eyes, Zemo finally raised the glass again, this time downing it in one go, without even clinking it to hers first.
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Post by Kristi Lynne on Aug 2, 2021 16:15:27 GMT -8
"Sometimes it's better to spare them from the bloody truth, up to a certain extent, at least. … Sorry, but you were looking like you could need one more."
That bad, huh? “Thank you,” Sophie uttered as he refilled her glass, wondering how ‘in need of a drink’ she must have looked to prompt that gesture. She didn’t think of Emilia or her family often, just kept herself busy with work. Sometimes the sadness would catch up, though, and she'd have to start moving again. Though she was happy Zemo had added more sand to the hourglass.
"What I do is telling myself that letting them in... would cause much more damage than not to."
“And in the end, no one can ever truly know us,” Sophie mused, completing his melancholy thought. She gave him a small, sympathetic smile over the rim of her glass before taking another sip. Still, he'd managed to do the highly dangerous job and build a home with a lovely wife and a son on the way. Didn't mean that it was impossible. It was just highly unlikely, and rare to find someone worth the effort. She wasn't sure what brought a cloud to those even more intense hazel eyes as he downed his own drink, but it was strong enough to make her consider placing an encouraging hand on his arm. But then seeing the bandage on his hand was a sharp reminder of the painful injury beneath it, the one that she was responsible for, and forced her mind back on track.
"So, um, anyway," Sophie sputtered, tucking her hair behind her ear and shifting her focus back to the computer. "There's a lot of data here, under several layers of encryption. It's probably going to take a while. I'll keep an eye on it, and you can go be with your wife. I know she's missed you."
And lest he think she was sliding into sentimentality, she added, "Besides, it’s almost time for Oeznik and my nightly card game. That man has a better poker face than you, if you can believe it.”
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Post by DarkSideCookie on Aug 8, 2021 7:37:50 GMT -8
Zemo was not used to someone offering him comfort to something so heavy on his mind. Sure, Helen was always there for him, yet, in the end, she didn't truly know him, just like Sophie had put it. He wasn't reacting to her smile nor the encouraging touch on his arm, but there was gratitude in his eyes as they met with hers for a moment.
"So, um, anyway,"
A barely audible harrumph from him was following her sudden change of subject before he leaned a little forward to replace, once again, an empty glass on the table. Maybe they should stop having difficult, namely personal, discussions, or, at some point, the alcohol might go to his head, after all.
"There's a lot of data here, under several layers of encryption. It's probably going to take a while. I'll keep an eye on it, and you can go be with your wife. I know she's missed you.""Besides, it’s almost time for Oeznik and my nightly card game. That man has a better poker face than you, if you can believe it.”
Zemo gave a toneless chuckle to that before finally rising from the couch. But then, already halfway through the door, he turned back around her, after all, smirking again. "There are rumors about him having a house ban in a lot of casinos. Vegas," Zemo added after a short pause to give this even more weight. Then, without any more words, he left the guest room, leaving Sophie some space, although he was itching for the information on that stick. Well, she would let him into that later.
***
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Post by Kristi Lynne on Aug 8, 2021 10:49:29 GMT -8
As one layer after another of encryption was pulled back, Sophie was able to see more and more puzzle pieces. A patchwork quilt of Zarif's history -- what he'd done, what he was planning to do, who he'd been working for and with. It was a challenge she was happy to undertake, both to guarantee her own good name, her freedom, and also justify whatever Zemo had sacrificed in order to secure it.
She'd taken dinner in her room, partly to give Zemo and his wife privacy but also to keep working. Helen had also supplied her with a blank sketchbook to help while away the hours, and now she was busily writing names and locations on pages and laying them out on the floor. Abrams, Geneva, Carson, Barcelona, Bosnia, Schmidt, Erskine, Project Centipede, Killian, EXTREMIS. All these dots needed to fit together and somehow lead back to the ambush that had landed her in this house in the first place.
A knock at the door sent her scurrying, as quickly as possible in her present state, to open it before someone walked in. To her relief, it was the butler. She cracked the door open just enough to speak to him.
"Do you require anything else, ma'am, before I retire for the evening?" he asked.
"No, no, I'm good, thank you, Oeznik. But would you ask your boss to stop by before he also retires for the evening?"
"Of course, ma'am. Sleep well."
"You, too." She closed and locked the door behind him and went back to work.
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Post by DarkSideCookie on Aug 11, 2021 9:36:31 GMT -8
Zemo had to admit that, when Sophie had asked for him to stop by before retiring for the evening, he had been wanting to do so without any delay, for he was itching to learn about what she found out. However, doing something without the slightest delay would give one the feeling of being his priority number one, and he didn't like anyone to even assume his priorities. Instead, Zemo liked to keep his unpredictability. Anyways, this time, it had been much harder for him to follow this course, squeezing time to no more than maybe half an hour.
When Sophie answered his knock on the door, Zemo stepped inside with an expression on his face that pretended to be unperturbed, like he'd as well been fine if they would have adjourned this to the next day. Only a slight spark in his eyes gave away how much he was actually panting for the news she had.
"What have you found?" Zemo asked with a casual tone once the door was closed behind, slowly walking up to the coach where he found her brooding over some things indeed. He had caught only one or two names on some pieces of her self-made puzzle, yet enough to set him on a sudden pause. Zemo didn't say anything, almost forgot that he had already asked her something, but instead looked down on the floor between them, with his features hardening as one word came to his mind. Another name. The main piece to the puzzle in front of her. Hydra.
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Post by Kristi Lynne on Aug 11, 2021 17:04:17 GMT -8
"What have you found?"
From the moment Zemo had entered the room, Sophie tried to strike a balance between being serious and being insanely excited to tell him what she'd managed to piece together. This was her chance to impress her mysterious benefactor with her knowledge and to prove that she'd been a worthy investment of his time and talents. She really didn't want to blow it. Even though she realized what she was about to say would sound insane to any rational person.
"Well, the good news is I found the mole," she began. As she spoke, Sophie scrolled through files and photos on the laptop, attempting to illustrate how she'd connected the dots. "And he's ours, not yours, so yay you! I traced Zarif's communications back to Nathan Abrams, which is frankly not that surprising. I always thought he was a slimy, little back-stabbing weasel. Abrams was paid handsomely for the leaked information on our op, but it seems like the real incentive was this -- the chance to be a test subject for something called Project Centipede."
She opened another folder that contained graphs and tables of numerical data. "These are blood samples from Abrams and four other people that were sent to FNCM, a genetics lab in Barcelona. One of the most prestigious and well-funded in the EU. Zarif was sending them updates on his recruits and there are several sketchy blind cc's on this most recent e-mail, including Mitchell Carson. Head of Defense at SHIELD, makes a habit of toppling third-world governments. Also, fun fact: wanted for war crimes in the Balkans. There's a lot of techno jargon here, but they make repeated references to the research of Johannes Schmidt and Abraham Erskine, the scientists who developed the serum that turned Steve Rogers into Captain America. Only now they’re enhancing it with gamma radiation and some experimental drug called Extremis.
"Advanced strength, speed, agility, cellular regeneration, that someone could mass-produce. I think they’re trying to recreate super soldiers, and by ‘they’ I mean Hydra. Only Hydra isn't real," she scoffed, disbelieving her own words. "Hydra died with the Red Skull in World War 2. They're a ... a boogeyman. The monster in the closet or hiding under the bed, the stuff of campfire tales for British spies. All I know is this is much bigger than one Islamic extremist."
With her monologue done, Sophie stared at Zemo expectantly. He was being quiet. Too quiet, even for him. "You think I'm crazy," she concluded. "It's okay, I would think I'm crazy, too. But sometimes the most obvious explanation is the right one. What other group could have this kind of reach, this amount of resources?"
Still he said nothing. She sighed in perceived defeat and closed all the folders and images except one. "This is all the information I need to prove Abrams was the mole. I give it to my CO, pack up my things, and leave your life as quickly as I entered it. Or..." she offered, with as much casualness as she could muster, "You and me figure out just how far down this Hydra rabbit hole goes. If you want to." Please say you want to, she added inwardly.
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Post by DarkSideCookie on Aug 18, 2021 4:06:37 GMT -8
During the whole monologue she so persistently had expounded to him - not meant in a mean way -, Zemo hadn't said any word. He honestly appreciated her ability to connect the dots even without having all the background information he had. Also, it was not like he wouldn't have listened. Zemo was able to balance along his own rope of thoughts while watching someone else's walk at the same time, which, along with his usual quiet, most people misunderstood as nonattention.
"You think I'm crazy,"
At that, Zemo's head turned in her direction, after all, yet with his features unchanged and his attitude still one of a monk, only less peacefully. The only movement seen upon his face was a twitch around one of his eyebrows and an even less remarkable tilt of his head.
"It's okay, I would think I'm crazy, too. But sometimes the most obvious explanation is the right one. What other group could have this kind of reach, this amount of resources?""This is all the information I need to prove Abrams was the mole. I give it to my CO, pack up my things, and leave your life as quickly as I entered it. Or...""You and me figure out just how far down this Hydra rabbit hole goes. If you want to."
"Take these with you. I'll show you something," Zemo suddenly said with a point towards the documents surrounding them, almost cutting in her last words, yet without sounding harsh or something. Bringing somebody into the loop as for what he was calling his mission was a risk, but maybe it was on time to accept that he couldn't fight this war alone. He needed someone with abilities like hers. It was time to team up.
Without waiting for an answer, Zemo turned towards the door, giving Sophie to understand that this something he was talking about would be found in a different location. Zemo wasn't hurrying her, though.
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Post by Kristi Lynne on Aug 18, 2021 16:46:49 GMT -8
"Take these with you. I'll show you something."
Where she'd been talking a mile a minute before, Sophie was now struck dumb by his seemingly complete lack of reaction. He still had nothing to say? Well, practically nothing. She could decipher neither his expression nor his words. Would it really be that easy to watch her walk away? Because she was seriously doubting her own ability to do that.
"Not the door, I hope," she remarked, curious as to what Zemo could possibly have to 'show' her as she proceeded to pack up her own presentation. "Look, Zemo, I am so sorry if I've over-stepped, I just ... if you give me a puzzle, I have to solve it. It's one of my quirks. People can find it endearing or highly irritating. I certainly hope you're leaning toward the former." She gathered the pages and the laptop in a heap, clutching it to her chest as she followed him out into the hallway. "And where are we going?" she asked, in an insistent but hushed tone.
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Post by DarkSideCookie on Aug 26, 2021 21:33:59 GMT -8
"Not the door, I hope,""Look, Zemo, I am so sorry if I've over-stepped, I just ... if you give me a puzzle, I have to solve it. It's one of my quirks. People can find it endearing or highly irritating. I certainly hope you're leaning toward the former."
Although still rather tensed up, Zemo's features were easing for a moment. He couldn't help but find it amusing that she really thought he was about to show her the door and throw her out, especially after everything she so thoroughly had found out. But, how so often, Zemo preferred to leave her in the dark about his true intentions, so he just smirked at that, at least obviously that that wasn't what he was about to do.
"And where are we going?" Sophie asked once they were out in the hallway.
He smirked again, not visible to her though, since his back was turned in her direction. This time, however, he decided to say something at least, although, with this information, he could as well have said nothing at all. "The other guest room. It's practically a closet since we don't have many guests."
Eventually, Zemo stopped his steps in front of another door, with no intentions to answer any more questions before he would have invited her to the secret backroom of that. The guest room itself had nothing worth the mentioning. Not yet for Sophie to see at least.
Without any words of explaining, Zemo stepped further inside the room, pulled something that looked like a book but, in truth, was a lever to open mentioned secret backroom behind the shelf before carefully pulling the new passage open enough so that they could walk through. And once again, Zemo went without any words, but instead led the way, relying on Sophie to follow.
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