apocalypsehowcomm | Log: A (dusty) new arrival

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Log: A (dusty) new arrival

Who: Steve Rogers and OTA (including roomies in apartment B4)
When: March 14th-ish, upon arrival
Where: ADI and ADI housing
Summary: Steve arrives at ADI, bangs around in an air duct and collects lots of dust, then gets briefed and takes a look around, ultimately making it to his new living quarters
Warnings: None yet, will update/warn in threads if needed.

Arrival via air duct
Steve Rogers is not a complete stranger to suddenly finding himself in places he hadn't expected to be.

But it's always unsettling, and this time maybe even more so than any others. He'd been in Asgard one minute, and the next — Well. It's a good thing he doesn't have asthma anymore. Because wherever he is, it's dark, cramped, and full of dust.

He also feels… kind of like shit. Weak. Disoriented. Actually, a lot like the old asthma attacks, just with (fortunately) less gasping and choking. Okay, some minor gasping and choking. It's really dusty in here.

Where he'd normally just consider breaking through the damn side of the duct — because yeah, okay, this is an air duct, he's pretty sure — he both feels unsteady enough not to try and unsure enough of where he is that he… probably shouldn't? Not until he knows more. Which has him crawling forward, Mjolnir's strap looped around one wrist, until he spots a vent up ahead. Plan A, then: Kick it in and get the hell out of here. And hope for the best.

(Hope he fits through the vent, in the first place.)

Looking around, settling in
Steve Rogers is also not unaccustomed to the idea of preventing the apocalypse. What he is unaccustomed to is the idea that using any of the abilities the serum grants him requires terrorizing and murdering people. That's just —

Well. He's lived more of his life without superhuman abilities than not. He'll just… not use them, for now.

It is frustrating. He was in the middle of mission. It was, you know, kind of important. But he's still got the soul stone tucked safely away, even if his quantum suit seems to have disappeared (collapsed into the watch, he has to assume, but he can't reactivate it), and if he's needed here, then he supposes he can afford the pit stop. Technically, he's got all the time in the world. Right?

So, he decides to take a look around ADI, still in his dusty Captain America uniform as he walks the halls and pokes his head into offices, the gym, the canteen, and the library. He maybe pokes around for something to eat in the canteen (he's... very hungry) and then stops to study the local maps and directories in the library, committing them to memory.

He finally makes it to the apartments. By the time he shows up at the right door — B4 — he's at least wearing jeans and a hoodie, although his hair is a still bit dusty and there's still that hefty warhammer in one hand. He figures he might as well knock instead of just walking in. It might be his place, now, but it seems like a little politeness is the safer option when meeting potentially apocalypse-averting teammates.

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"Oh-- oh, my gosh, no it's, it's really no trouble--" Why does he feel like his hands are going everywhere all of a sudden? Martin tries to smooth himself out by dragging them down his shirt, keep his entire existence at least mildly together. "What I mean is-- it's not, uh, it's not like we don't want you here or anything. Really, it's, this is your place too, so! Don't feel like you're intruding or, uh, or anything.

Martin's trying not to feel like he's bustling around even though he feels like he is, and decides to cover that with more talking. "Here, uhm, can I help you with anything, or-- do you want some tea? I've, uh, I've got some started-- or well the water's started. At least."

If Steve notices anything amiss, he certainly doesn't comment on it. The best way to embarrass someone more, he figures, is to call attention to their fluster. So he just nods, with a, "All right. It'll be kinda nice to have roommates." He sort of hates rattling around by himself.

And at the offer of tea, he absolutely brightens. "Yes, actually. Yeah, I'd love some." It'll give them something to do, something to talk about (a little), and maybe help smooth the way. He motions a little - Martin can take the lead, and Steve will follow. "I wouldn't mind a look at the kitchen, either. I'm happy to pitch in for meals."

Edited 2022-03-25 02:05 (UTC)

He's just so nice, and part of it is almost making Martin jealous. My goodness, how is he going to compete with this. What if Jon comes home and starts swooning over this guy? He sure as hell wasn't immune. Thankfully for him, he's got a decent enough composure to gesture towards the kitchen and have Steve follow him in. Once there, he lets Steve take a seat at the table while he goes to get some tea from the cabinets, pour the water, and generally get his god damn composure. It's not long until he's bringing over two hot mugs and sliding one across the table.

"Be careful, it's still a bit hot, but-- always good for the chill out there." God, he sounds like his mum. "And ah, no need to worry too much about food budget or anything. They cover just about everything here as long as you're living, uhm, on property, so... anything you want to make is just, uh, you know, if you want to."

If it makes you feel better, he definitely is not the kind of guy to steal somebody else's significant other. Especially not a roommate's.

Steve smiles a little once they're settled, accepting the mug gratefully. "It is," he agrees, letting it sit for a moment, watching the steam rise.

"Well, I -" he starts - and then stops. "I used to eat a lot. You know, I don't actually know if that's still the case." Which probably sounds weird, but he has literally never had a normal human body of this size. He - assumes it's mostly normal. It doesn't seem like any of the things the serum had cured have popped up again. So they're not likely to, right?

"Sorry," he adds, glancing up again, smiling ruefully. "But either way - I've had roommates before. It's only fair to pitch in with the chores, even if none of us are paying for the food, right? I'm pretty handy with a dust rag, too, if I do say so myself."

Of course, all that aside, "Where are you from?"

Oh, it does not matter even a little if Steve would or wouldn't do it. It's about the anxiety. It's always about the anxiety.

Regardless, Martin does his best to relax- he is actually interested in figuring out more about this man, so this discussion should be slightly more normal. He nods appreciatively at Steve's offer to help, giving a bit of a wider smile at the joke and letting the tea ground him back to the conversation.

"Well, we're happy to have you all the same. But uh, right-- Jon and I are from London. Uhm, England, if you... have that? Strange to say, but uh, I've met people here that don't have the same kind of countries or-- or Earth, even, so. Suppose it doesn't much matter if you've no idea." He takes another sip of his tea so he stops himself from rambling. "What about you?"

Steve nods at that - at least that is an easy subject. "I've been to London. We've got a London," he confirms. "I was stationed out of there for a while, actually." A long, long time ago, now, but that's neither here nor there, as far as this conversation goes. "It's where I learned to appreciate good tea, honestly" he admits, with a little nod toward his mug.

"I'm from New York. Brooklyn, originally, if you want to get specific." Although right now it feels like he's sort of from nowhere. No time. Things are in flux. And now doubly so, because he's stuck here. He motions around them a little. "I never spent much time in Massachusetts. I guess that's about to change, for better or worse."

Oh, stationed-- right, he did mention dog tags, didn't he? No wonder he's so buff. Martin nods, filing that away in his brain. "Well, we've absolutely got a New York, and I believe this place does too, so... guess neither of us are too far off on the, uh, on the geography front." His voice has a little chuckle in it, even though it's not particularly funny, it's just masking any residual anxiety.

"I'd never been to America before this. Not so different, aside from the slang. And the food, though, it's..." He wiggles his hand in an 'eh' motion. "There's a couple good takeaway places, at least. And I can get tea online, even if shipping's a bear."

Martin takes a moment to take another sip before continuing. "I'd guess you've seen a lot more of the world than me, being in the... army?"

Maybe it's not particularly funny, but it is at least a little funny, in that way that relief can be. "Well, at least it means we've got a common point of reference," Steve agrees. It's easier, certainly, than if they'd been from two completely different planets, he thinks.

"There are a lot of takeaway options, and I can't pretend that fact hasn't saved me a time or two," Steve murmurs, before nodding. "Army, yeah. I mean, mostly I saw western Europe, which was... not in the best shape while I was there. I've managed to get around a little since, but it never seems to be for a good reason."

Always when the world is ending, which is not the best way to see a place. Massachusetts included, it seems. "Is everything ADI does based here in Gloucester? I guess there must be a reason we show up here."

Yeah, he sort of knows the 'bad time to see a place with the apocalypse' bit. He's sure Scotland's Kinloss Barracks are a lovely, historical place to visit when they're not occupied by a being of pure war and bloodshed. Funny how that one works out.

"Yeah, it's all here. I think because this is where people show up. Apparently it's been happening for a really long time? But it's gotten to be, uhm, a l-lot more recently than in the past. More variety, not just-- regular people. So." He pauses to take a sip of his tea, give himself a reason to not ramble further on the same point. "If we found out it'd probably be, uhm, a good first start in getting us all home. At least they were all, uh, all ready for us though! Not the first ones to tumble in and all."

Steve nods. "Well, if things are changing, maybe that's - I guess 'a good sign' isn't something you should say about the apocalypse. But things are happening. Maybe that means there'll be something concrete we can do."

He is, admittedly, very bad at waiting. At playing the long game. He's much better at meeting problems head on. Even though that usually means the situation is pretty dire, which no, is not ideal.

He sighs, smiling just a little, definitely ruefully. "I guess it is nice to have the welcome wagon all set up, though. It's not the first time I've ended up someplace I definitely didn't mean to go, but they did seem better prepared for me this time."

Whether or not that's a good thing, he isn't sure. "What about the rest of the town? It seems pretty... normal?"

Martin chuckles just a bit. "Yeah, we don't really have, uh, good signs for uhh, i-impending doom sorts of things. But prepared, you know, uhm-- prepared is a thing we can do. As much as that matters."

He smiles back, trying to keep things at least a little light. "Everything else outside of here is pretty normal, though. Or, as normal as it's supposed to be for the States, I think. But weird stuff sort of, uhm, follows us? Anybody not from this world, uhm, we're-- m-more likely to find the strange things. But there's normal days. Uh, plenty of them, actually." There's a little smile there, obviously thinking about some nice times. "So you don't need to be scared every time you try and leave the premises-- not that, uhm, I think you would be? Being. You."

Before Martin can stop himself, he just sort of vaguely gestures to all of Steve, presumably saying he thinks the other man is strong enough to suplex a car and therefore is going to be just fine.

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Log: A (dusty) new arrival

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