#notjustascienceproject

@notjustascienceproject

Iris grinned bouncing on her toes, still trying to whisper as she exclaimed, “Yay!!! With extra chocolate chips, right? ‘Cause that makes ‘em extra special!” She then looked across the bed where her Momma was sleeping, “But we shouldn’t wake Momma yet, right? Because we don’t have her magical ‘lixir?”

I.e. coffee.

welcome to 2k18 rp meme @notjustascienceproject - @corinnebaileyrp 

((My brain hasn’t really arrived in 2018 yet, so I’m just going to do five for both of these, if that’s ok? Thank you for sending them though!))

I’d love to find someone to RP Solomon Lane, so that I could explore more of the dynamic between him and Benji - either something set while Benji was captive at Lane’s hand or something afterwards, with them meeting again (though I suspect we might see something like that in the next film).

I’d love to explore things with Benji’s family - with his brother or his parents.

I’d love some more crossovers, anything with other spy fandoms.

More post-Rogue Nation fics, where Benji is dealing with the immediate aftermath of his kidnapping and the nightmares and symptoms of PTSD that he developed.

@notjustascienceproject

Three weeks. 

It had been three weeks since IMF had assigned him this ridiculous wild goose chase of a surveillance mission and he had come up with virtually nothing. The guy was like a ghost. No real history, no personal contacts, no medical history... Nothing. It was as if he didn’t exist. But there he was, very clear and alive in photographs acquired by IMF’s labs.

He had managed to use what little intel he had gathered on this non-person, Aaron Cross, and traced him to a small town in Maine and he swore that if this was just another false lead, he would scream. 

He sat alone in his motel room, chewing on a piece of near-cold pizza as he tapped away on his computer as he flicked through some new surveillance photographs taken a day earlier in the town centre. For all he knew, this guy wasn’t even still there. But he had a job to do, and he was not about to be screwed over by a ghost. 

   Sigyn should have been struck with anger, at least that's what some would likely tell her. They would find some justification to the emotion, however she could neither find the will nor the way to the reaction. Her blue eyes narrow though as she tries to place the face with the memories that still seemed to be lost within fog.

 "Agent.." she murmurs to herself, taking slow steps forward. That seemed as though it fit him. Although she can't remember why, why she tied this man to Loki. Why she tied him to a moment of pain and grief. Sighing she tries the name that rolls through her memories and her mind like a dreadful plague. "Agent Barton?"

The bar smelled strongly of ethanol and sweat and the stale scent of too many cigarettes, the smoke seeping into the walls and taking up residence until it overrode the natural wood entirely. In short, it smelled just like every other bar in the middle of nowhere that North America had to offer.

And it was exactly the sort of place Darcy wished she could avoid. It had only been a week since she’d escaped, finally throwing off her father’s hands and giving him a taste of what he’d spent her entire life dishing out. Going against the pack Alpha though, even when he was cruel and violent, practically ensured she wouldn’t have lived to see the next moon rise. With what meager cash and clothes she could throw together, she ran before he came to.

In a week she’d made it several hundred miles away, and it was exactly places like this that made it possible. Rural bars meant transient clientele, and transient clientele meant opportunities to sneak into a truck or trailer and get even further away, until they stopped at the next run-down bar on the route.

@notjustascienceproject started following you

At first glance, Dana thought something must have been wrong with the pocket watch. While she was in a different landscape, it felt very much like her own home world. It was a modern world, with modern technology here and there. Not the future or past. No signs of supernatural influences.

But then she realized she’d been tailed-possibly because she tended to show up with a flash and a bang, appearing with a pillar of light. It was harder to see in day light, but not impossible.

Six o’clock. Dev’s rich voice in the back of her mind. He sensed the pursuit before she did. So Dana turned to peer over her shoulder, dressed a bit oddly, but not completely. True, black slacks and a blue off the shoulders blouse did stand out-but not as much as eans in a medieval time period.