Steve Rogers ☆ Captain America (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
punched_hitler) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
apocalypsehowcomm2022-03-14 10:54 pm
punched_hitler) wrote in apocalypsehowcomm2022-03-14 10:54 pm
Entry tags:
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.
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.
Not at alllll <3
I think it is.
[He glances at Tony, though, and amends:] It is.
[God, he misses Tony. He really does. He's missed him for years, honestly, and he's no small amount of grateful they managed to get past it in the end, but there was nothing past that because it was the end, and now -
Now, it feels like he has a second chance. He doesn't want to waste it. And he can't tell Tony any of that.]
But that's the kinda thing that has to be mutual, [he admits, one corner of his mouth quirking up, before he hides it in a slow sip.
He wants to say he'll respect if it's not, but Tony's reaction to Steve saying he'd steer clear was pretty, well. Clear, too.]
We could start fresh. Or you could tell me exactly everything you hate about how I've handled the situation, first. Either way.
[He actually means that. This is an olive branch. If Tony is too close to it, still. If he needs to get it off his chest, lay into Steve will take his lumps.]
no subject
Still. He has no idea how to respond.
There's very little Tony's big expressive eyes can hide, and he's very aware of that unfortunate fact, so he has been determinedly looking at everything in the apartment but Steve this entire time--and he keeps them fixed on the ground for a while, for as long a pause as he can get away with. In the end they up having a mind of their own, though, and at last lift up and blink over at the man next to him in all their soulful, puppy-dog glory.
And, well, shit. He's got to be honest now. ]
The worst thing is that you left. It always was.
no subject
I thought it was the best thing I can do, [he offers, softly, turning the mug around and around in his hands for a moment. He's not ashamed of the decision. But he understands, now, that it might have been necessary. But maybe it wasn't the best.]
When Buck and I used to fight, [he starts, a moment later, voice still quiet, eyes still on the mug, trying to give them both a little mental space while he tries to figure out how to explain.] We'd get real heated up about it. Usually the only way out was to walk it off. We weren't ever gonna see eye to eye, change each other's minds about the important stuff. So we had to just walk away, and know we'd come back.
[He glances up at Tony.] I'm sorry. If I ever made you think that I would walk away and never come back.
[Because that had never been the plan. But he can see, with the benefit of hindsight, that it probably really, really looked that way.]
no subject
You told me you'd come if I needed you. You said we'd beat Thanos together, I said we'd lose, and you said we'll do that together too. Don't you get it? We lost, and you weren't there.
[ Tony's eyes prickle so he quickly looks away again, hand moving to hold his temple and hide whatever is trying to happen there. He's so tired all of a sudden. ]
I needed you, and you weren't there.
no subject
But I was there. I was left behind. Just like you.
[He will never, ever forget the sight of Bucky crumbling away before his eyes. The sound of his voice. Yeah, yeah, eidetic memory and all, but... it haunts him. Just like the memory of watching Bucky fall from that train.
Honestly, a little like the memory of watching Stark fall from a hole in the sky over New York in 2012. More so, maybe of watching him snap his fingers on a battlefield.]
I lost, too, [he admits, quietly.] Even if you weren't there to see it.
[But - shit. Shit. That sounds selfish and cruel. It's an excuse.] I can't take it back. I don't know if I can make it right. Maybe I can't.