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)
apocalypsehowcomm2022-05-08 06:04 pm
punched_hitler) wrote in apocalypsehowcomm2022-05-08 06:04 pm
Log: Early days of May
Who: Steve Rogers and OTA
When: First half of May
Where: Prompts include Dogtown (Rivertouched), a random bar/the streets of Gloucester, and the train,. You can also catch him at ADI or in his apartment/around the ADI housing building, or hit me up if you have other ideas!
Summary: Steve has been here for a month and still feels like he's a little adrift. He doesn't like it. He takes the mission in Dogtown, then "investigates" some local haunts (i.e., bars) to try to relax, and boards the train with the rest of his colleagues for whatever lies ahead.
Warnings: supernatural compulsion, hallucination, suicidal ideation and drowning (past and potentially present) drinking/drunkenness, nyctophobia, burns/dead bodies
It's better than the Arctic
His conversation with Yelena shortly after arriving had piqued Steve's interest in Dogtown, so when the opportunity arises to check it out for himself, he takes it. Sure, he's got the ADI-issued GPS in his pocket, but he sure as hell doesn't plan on using it. (Maybe he'll change his mind. We'll see.)
All he's got to record with is his phone and he knows how to use it, but frankly he's more interested in simply finding out what's up with this place than actually documenting anything or earning any reward. He won't outright abandon his partner, of course, but they must have taken different paths back at the fork, because now he's standing at the edge of a river that he doesn't… think was on the map he'd looked up, but hadn't Yelena said something about maps being unreliable? He's much less interested in the why and much more interested in crouching down and running his hand through the water. It's warm. Nothing at all like the icy Arctic waters that had closed in over his head. That had been terrifying. He'd felt so desperate. This doesn't feel like that at all — and of course, why would it? It's just a river.
A pretty inviting river. And he's tired. He's tired, because he's stuck here, in a place where Tony is alive and where Bucky doesn't want to be Bucky, where the people he knows are different and he feels out of step, like he's been given a second chance but he's still out of sync with it. He still feels very alone. But that's how it's supposed to be, right? He always ends up alone.
At least this time, the water's warm, he thinks, as he leans closer, and closer. It's really so inviting. He could just… slip in. Then he wouldn't have to think about apocalypses or infinity stones or Natasha or Tony or…
I need a goddamn drink
After Dogtown, Steve does something… well. It's not stupid, really. It's normal to want a drink right? And hey, drinks even work on him these days, supposedly. So he's just going to test it. For science.
And maybe to forget that awful river. And the Arctic. And - everything. Just a little. Just bury it under a buzz. Just for a little while.
He finds a bar — something the locals seem to favor, something casual and laid-back and where his limited budget (and palate) is well suited. He orders a couple drinks. And then he orders a few more.
When he finally steps out the door, headed for home, it's late and he's definitely the floaty kind of buzzed. Not falling-down drunk — apparently his big-but-not-enhanced physique can hold its liquor like a true Irishman — but he feels… good. Ish. Better? Kind of. Good enough that it takes him a while to actually make his way back, to the ADI housing, to get up the stairs, to fumble with his keys outside his door. He's still a respectful roommate, somehow, beelining for his room and maybe only hits his shin once or twice if the apartment is dark. The cursing will be quiet.
Time for a train ride
Steve shows up at the station as requested, bag slung over his shoulder. When they get on board, he takes a seat by the window and plunks the bag down by his feet (it makes an odd, heavy, almost metallic sound when he does). He mostly spends the trip alternately watching the landscape go by and checking on Winter, sometimes getting snacks from the dining car for one or both of them. Anyone seated near him might get offered a bite or two, if they look interested.
While he doesn't manage to get caught between the cars, he's definitely by the window when they go through the tunnel. When the tapping starts, he tries to get closer, not back away (like a reasonable person). Still, he can't make anything out by the time the lights flicker back on.
His seat means he also sees the burned bodies; he doesn't know what to think about that, but anyone sitting next to him will get a nudge as he asks, "Do you see that?" Of course, when you look… there's nothing to see. And when he looks back, it's gone.
When: First half of May
Where: Prompts include Dogtown (Rivertouched), a random bar/the streets of Gloucester, and the train,. You can also catch him at ADI or in his apartment/around the ADI housing building, or hit me up if you have other ideas!
Summary: Steve has been here for a month and still feels like he's a little adrift. He doesn't like it. He takes the mission in Dogtown, then "investigates" some local haunts (i.e., bars) to try to relax, and boards the train with the rest of his colleagues for whatever lies ahead.
Warnings: supernatural compulsion, hallucination, suicidal ideation and drowning (past and potentially present) drinking/drunkenness, nyctophobia, burns/dead bodies
It's better than the Arctic
His conversation with Yelena shortly after arriving had piqued Steve's interest in Dogtown, so when the opportunity arises to check it out for himself, he takes it. Sure, he's got the ADI-issued GPS in his pocket, but he sure as hell doesn't plan on using it. (Maybe he'll change his mind. We'll see.)
All he's got to record with is his phone and he knows how to use it, but frankly he's more interested in simply finding out what's up with this place than actually documenting anything or earning any reward. He won't outright abandon his partner, of course, but they must have taken different paths back at the fork, because now he's standing at the edge of a river that he doesn't… think was on the map he'd looked up, but hadn't Yelena said something about maps being unreliable? He's much less interested in the why and much more interested in crouching down and running his hand through the water. It's warm. Nothing at all like the icy Arctic waters that had closed in over his head. That had been terrifying. He'd felt so desperate. This doesn't feel like that at all — and of course, why would it? It's just a river.
A pretty inviting river. And he's tired. He's tired, because he's stuck here, in a place where Tony is alive and where Bucky doesn't want to be Bucky, where the people he knows are different and he feels out of step, like he's been given a second chance but he's still out of sync with it. He still feels very alone. But that's how it's supposed to be, right? He always ends up alone.
At least this time, the water's warm, he thinks, as he leans closer, and closer. It's really so inviting. He could just… slip in. Then he wouldn't have to think about apocalypses or infinity stones or Natasha or Tony or…
I need a goddamn drink
After Dogtown, Steve does something… well. It's not stupid, really. It's normal to want a drink right? And hey, drinks even work on him these days, supposedly. So he's just going to test it. For science.
And maybe to forget that awful river. And the Arctic. And - everything. Just a little. Just bury it under a buzz. Just for a little while.
He finds a bar — something the locals seem to favor, something casual and laid-back and where his limited budget (and palate) is well suited. He orders a couple drinks. And then he orders a few more.
When he finally steps out the door, headed for home, it's late and he's definitely the floaty kind of buzzed. Not falling-down drunk — apparently his big-but-not-enhanced physique can hold its liquor like a true Irishman — but he feels… good. Ish. Better? Kind of. Good enough that it takes him a while to actually make his way back, to the ADI housing, to get up the stairs, to fumble with his keys outside his door. He's still a respectful roommate, somehow, beelining for his room and maybe only hits his shin once or twice if the apartment is dark. The cursing will be quiet.
Time for a train ride
Steve shows up at the station as requested, bag slung over his shoulder. When they get on board, he takes a seat by the window and plunks the bag down by his feet (it makes an odd, heavy, almost metallic sound when he does). He mostly spends the trip alternately watching the landscape go by and checking on Winter, sometimes getting snacks from the dining car for one or both of them. Anyone seated near him might get offered a bite or two, if they look interested.
While he doesn't manage to get caught between the cars, he's definitely by the window when they go through the tunnel. When the tapping starts, he tries to get closer, not back away (like a reasonable person). Still, he can't make anything out by the time the lights flicker back on.
His seat means he also sees the burned bodies; he doesn't know what to think about that, but anyone sitting next to him will get a nudge as he asks, "Do you see that?" Of course, when you look… there's nothing to see. And when he looks back, it's gone.
A reasonable thought!!
"I can take care of myself," is what comes out of his mouth, automatic, even though it's clearly not true (and wasn't then, either). He blows out a frustrated breath. Bullies were one thing. This - whatever this is, he knows it's another.
"But there never was anyone else I'd rather have watch my back," he adds, suddenly very interested in wiping at some of the mud that's... basically everywhere by now.
no subject
For a beat he's back on the helicarrier, head full of the white noise of fear and anger and confusion, the crash of the thing falling apart around them, and Steve's broken face looking blearily up at him. Til the end of the line, he'd said.
"No," he says, struggling back to the present. "No, you are. Terrible at taking care of yourself. You always were? You always were. So I had to. I had to follow you then, too. Didn't I? Did I?" He hasn't gotten much back from before HYDRA. But the feeling is powerful. It's why he dove back down into the river to get him. Because somebody had to protect that asshole.
no subject
"You did," he confirms, quietly. "But I was, you know. Smaller. I've gotten better."
(No, he's gotten bigger. Admittedly less destructible - until recently.)
"But I guess not better enough," he adds, because okay. Clearly he'd needed Winter just now. "But it's not fair to you. To have to follow me - or anyone - around."
no subject
Either oblivious to or pointedly ignoring how Steve might react to hearing he's important, Winter presses a palm to his temple. Now he has a headache, wonderful. "Sorry. Memory. Sometimes it hits hard."
no subject
He should probably take what he can get and be glad for it, but somehow, he can't quite.
He is at least momentarily distracted by Winter's clear discomfort. "Like a two-by-four, it looks like." He stumbles a little closer, practically reaches out before he gets his hands back at his sides. "Are you okay?"
no subject
Well, rarely, anyway. But right now he's still recovering from the fight with Penny, Steve almost drowned himself, and he just got walloped by his own brain. Life sucks, in this particular moment.
"Fine," he says, and makes himself drop his hand. Then he has to complain: "It wasn't even a new one. Just a. Goddamn replay of the last mission."
no subject
"The last - the helicarriers?" Steve hazards. And then, "I mean, I guess that is how your brain works. It likes to replay things you already know."
Sometimes ad nauseam. Usually the worst things, in that case. Not that the helicarriers were a great time or anything, but - they hadn't been so bad. Not in the end. Not with how things had turned out.
no subject
This one was no exception. Even if he already knew it, that sure was a very awful moment. He's glad, looking at Steve now, that it happened and he didn't kill him. But it was still awful.
no subject
"You only get the bad ones?" Steve asks, at least adequately distracted from what had happened a few minutes ago as Winter pushes at him and he gets moving again.
He genuinely doesn't know how the memories had come back - in what order, or with what intensity - so he feels a little lost, and a lot guilty. But hey, that's familiar and comfortable, at least.
no subject
And his memories of Steve so far are still... mostly non-visual, non-specific, which means they're confusing and frustrating, rather than good.
no subject
He doesn't sound disappointed. Just curious. Calm - well. As calm as he can sound right now, rattled to his core for other reasons. But it's weirdly calming to focus on something else, even if he's maybe latched onto an uncomfortable topic.
no subject
He can't even imagine it. Family. He's not-- he used to be a person. He's acknowledged that. A real, proper person. People have families. That's a normal thing for a person to have. But somehow it never even occurred to him to think about it. That the person he used to be, that "Bucky Barnes" person, had a family.
Hell, he's only barely managed to think about how that person had a friend, and that friend is right in front of him now.
no subject
"Yeah," he adds. "Your family. Or - I mean. You had friends, too. A job. Lots of things. There are good things to remember, too."
no subject
no subject
At least this conversation is distracting him from, you know. The river situation.
"Well, there wasn't much of me, before," he offers - a lame joke, okay, and he realizes not long after that it probably needs an explanation: "I was smaller. A lot smaller. So. Less of me. To remember."
no subject
He looks down at his hand, turns it over, and says, "It was the first thing I remembered. When you said those words."
no subject
He tries for a smile thats maybe a little shakier than he'd like, and raises his own hand - a little higher. "Come on. At least this high."
He hopes that's not the wrong move.
He'd also really like to stop second-guessing himself around this man, but that doesn't seem likely anytime soon.
no subject
Then a pause. "Unless I got bigger. Did I get bigger?" He looks between himself and Steve with a sudden frown.
Technically, he is bigger, but not in height. As a soldier and then the actual fist of HYDRA he'd been half-starved all the time, and before the serum and the war he'd not been as bulky as he is now, with proper feeding and frankly obsessive levels of exercise.
no subject
Especially if he's carrying around that arm. Which - shit. No serum means he really must have to work out a lot to keep up enough muscle to manage it. Jesus. Steve knows nothing about being a regular person. "I'm still trying to figure out how much to eat," he mutters - at least, without the serum, but in this still-big body. "Maybe you could help me?"
no subject
More important, he thinks, is that Steve is asking. Steve never asks for help. He wants to take advantage of this one, rare moment.
no subject
Steve is maybe asking to... not be manipulative, exactly. But because he knows Winter probably won't turn him down, simply because he is asking. But he does actually need help. Winter is probably the best equipped to help him. And he trusts Winter. "What's your favorite?" he asks.
no subject
no subject
He doesn't know a lot of people yet, other than the few he's run into around the ADI building or apartments. He... should probably change that. He's still not even sure how many people here are from other places and ended up getting pulled or dumped here.
no subject
Because that... sure does sound like somebody they both know, doesn't it.
no subject
"I think you've got a type, pal," he says, even though he doesn't mean it like that of course. Just - a type he likes to befriend. Clearly. "She sounds like someone I'd like to meet."
(no subject)
(no subject)