driftfleet | Mission 01: Action

Entry tags:

Mission 01: Action

Who: Steve Rogers (AU) + Open
Broadcast: N/A
Action: On the Marsiva; Around the SS Heron
When: February 26-28; March 2, post Shuffle

[ The Marsiva ]

[ This is not the Steve Rogers you are looking for. Unsettled, in completely unfamiliar surroundings, he spends much of his time lurking in whatever corner he can find, listening in on snippets of conversations that don't involve him simply to try and figure out what happened. Where he is. He wanders what limited space there is, exploring the confines of this strange vessel, making a mental map of where things are.

He does not voluntarily initiate conversation with anyone the first day, only taking care to note where the washroom is, where the recreational areas are, where he can find food. It's not until the second day, with the same faces and same smells and the same sense of solidity that Steve lets himself believe, just a little, that this might not be a HYDRA plot. That he hasn't been captured and dragged back to Siberia for reconditioning. That this isn't a complete mindscrew. Possibly. Hopefully.

Maybe it's shortly after that potential revelation that Steve starts looking for somewhere he can get a drink. ]

[ SS Heron ]

[ And then he wakes up on a strange ship for the second time. Because nobody seems to know what moderation means. Can't a guy be kidnapped in peace? Can't he have more than a few days to get aquainted with the idea of extraterrestrials and game shows and how GOD DAMN BIG space really is? No? Well, fine then.

The confetti burst outside his door is just adding insult to injury.

Pudding isn't the worst thing he's ever eaten, though. And he can't taste anything really off about it. (Like mind-altering or sleep-inducing drugs). That's a plus. So the next logical thing to do is explore this ship. You know, in case he has to break out of it in a hurry. For reasons involving intergalactic kidnapping. And other things. ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Kitty doesn't love the part where she's been in this fleet for the last three years against her will. And she doesn't like feeling confined. Her power has always been about defying the limitations of a solid lifestyle. During regular fleet travel when she has her ship she breaks up the time by visiting the systems they are near and if they're drifting she makes trips to space stations when they're available or if nothing else she takes regular trips to the Iskaulit to work and train. It's not the world's greatest routine but it keeps her feeling level. At this point she's been on the Marsiva a long time and the only chance she gets to leave it is spending her nights in the heads of her fellow captives. It's not the greatest release. So, today she is just walking through walls and tables and chairs to expend some excess energy and feel a little less contained. She stops—with only her head and shoulders coming out of a wall divider—when she sees a familiar face.]

Steve? [She knew he was in the fleet but she hadn't seen him in person yet. Just the one time in his head. And while she knows all too well about dopplegangers she has no idea there are two Steves aboard yet.]

[ Does anyone love the part about being kidnapped and held for an extended period of time, though? There should be a litmus test for that, just on general sanity. Anyone who wants and begs to be abducted automatically doesn't get the job based on that alone. Even if it's for something like sign holder. Likewise about anyone preferring tiny quarters, or office cubicles, or just anywhere that's cramped. Steve has learned he really likes the room to move and walk around without bumping into anyone.

Which carries over to this latest -- it's not exactly an adventure, but at least an experience.

Which makes the girl's sudden appearance even more bizarre by the lack of a body. His steps slow, but don't stop altogether, body language shifting from 'casual don't look' to 'i can take care of myself' in the span of about two seconds. ]

Who are you?

[Absolutely great point on the office cubicles especially in open office floor plans. Who is that for? No one works better like that! Not that Kitty has ever had anything remotely approaching an desk job anywhere. Considering it's this place or certain death back home she could stand to like it a little more than she does, but still it's a hard no.

She steps slowly out of the wall because this is probably not her best look especially when he's new to her even if she's not new to him. Or at least she doesn't think she is.]

Kitty. Kitty Pryde. We met in your head recently. I mean, you look different, but I sort of figured you would. [He was much smaller than the usual version. She figured it had to do with how he saw himself.] You don't remember? [Sometimes people don't remember the calibrations or only in parts. Or only those with others and not their own or vice versa. Basically, it's an anything goes kind of thing memory wise.] Or maybe I look different with an entire body?

[ It probably has something to do with keeping the common office workers too disgruntled and tired to consider rebelling. Or something. Little things that add up to buckling under the will of HYDRA. Or at least that'd be the consensus in Steve's world.

In this once, he just shakes his head and sounds a little stubborn. ]

I've only been here a few hours [ he thinks? ] and I've never seen you before, lady.

[ Young lady. With uncommon abilities. He steps back as she moves fully through the wall, but it's more of a sense of personal space than any fear or discomfort. ]

Hours? [She looks and sounds surprised by that news and there's a little leftover to be just a little surprised by his tone and demeanor. There's nothing wrong with it, especially under the circumstances. It's just somehow not what she'd expect from Steve. But then again what she'd expect from a Steve has a lot to do with him knowing who she is and them being friends except that Steve is gone. First, there were two Buckys and now there are two Steves? So when she speaks again it just sounds tired.] Hours. Right.

Welcome to the fleet? [She might as well say welcome to captivity or nightly torture or constant surveillance or any number of not awesome things. Which is not to say there is nothing she likes about the fleet. She has a lot of close friends here, but it's also pretty deep into calibrations and she could use less of all of this, so it's not too hard to put herself in the position of a new arrival.]

You, uh, look like someone I know. [And he's right about young. She's up to 22 now, but she also hasn't physically aged in her three years in the fleet.]

[ It's a long minute between them, with Steve taking in what he can of her outward demeanor, and the tone of her voice, before he speaks again. ]

I've upset you.

[ Which would go along with what she says next. He looks like someone. Someone potentially close, or maybe not, but she recognized him. That much is clear. And it makes him a little uncomfortable with the notion of sharing features, although he isn't sure he could explain why coherently. ]

Thanks. It's a helluva place to wind up. [ Most people feel young to him, Kitty. Nothing personal. (Also, 22 *is* young. Ish.) ]

Well, not being recognized by someone I recognize isn't my favorite part of this place, but the part where you suddenly end up here against your will and people you don't know act like they do is probably worse. [So, she should help. And since he looks like Steve and might be Steve—he hasn't confirmed or denied—she's more motivated.]

You probably have questions?

[ He shrugs at that, having seemingly acclimated to talking to someone who can walk through walls with impunity. ]

It's not the first time that's happened. So I guess I'm one up on that part. And I do, but I can probably figure them out on my own.

[ Look, he's a spy and assassin. Suspicion comes with the territory. People don't just hand out information from the goodness of their hearts. ]

[As things calm down she more easily notes these are not the reactions she'd expect from Steve. Other Steves she's met. It's curious.]

You probably can. You can always go back through the network here. But some things are harder to learn than others.

[ Sadly, no. They are the reactions of a Steve with a slightly different career path from 1945 to 2014. He notes the accessibility of the network, which is something he hadn't immediately thought of, and decides to do some skimming later. For now, ]

Okay. What things would you suggest I ask about?

Mmm, depends on your priorities. If it was me—when it was me—I wanted a threat assessment and as much information on our mysterious overlords as I could get. But that's just how I'm wired. Some people want to know if they can get a meal that doesn't include protein gels or day-to-day operations or just more about me because I'm so charming.

My priority would be getting the hell out of here. [ But he's already gotten the notion that might not happen as quickly as he wants it to. ] But I suppose an intel sweep would be pretty high on the list.

Are you offering that kind of thing or are we simply taking some air?

I've been here for three years. If you find someone with that kind of knowledge then send them my way. [Not that she wants to go home, but there are places she would go.]

And I'm offering, oh distrustful one. Want to sit somewhere? Gets some disappointing snacks maybe?

Three years. [ There is a decidedly unhappy note in his repitition, although facial features remain a mixture of alert and casually blank. ] These people are screwed up.

[ Sure, he's been held in captivity longer, if Bucky and all the files and his own fractured memories are right, but three years away from home is still a long time. ]

Okay. [ Just to choose something out of the ordinary, on a whim. He can do that now. ] What's a disappointing snack?

Oh, the level of screwed up is very high. [Three years. Having people look through each other's minds. Putting augments in their heads. So much is wrong with it.]

Anything involving a protein gel. Unless you're particularly into space food. We could head to the kitchen and see what's available?

[ Everything is wrong with it. It pushes a little anger through the numbness he uses to cope with day-to-day activities. ]

Depends on what space food is. And a protein gel. [ objectively, he knows what each word means. Collectively, though, they don't make much sense. ]

It's food that's been reduced to more basic, sustainable forms to take up less space and take more time for them to go bad while still providing complete nutrition. So, you know, not food made to be delicious. [Okay, there might be a better way to put this.] Closer to military rations?

Military rations, [ Steve echoes, with a flicker of relief passing across his face. He's accustomed to those, even if most of his nutritional needs were met with IVed formulas. ]

I think the deliciousness of food [ is that a word? ] is a luxury too many people take for granted.

[Possibly not even as good as military rations. But she sees that does mean something to him at least.] Probably so. It was in my world before it...wasn't. [Good story, Kitty. You should tell them for a living.] You probably won't find too much of that in space. At least not among the crews.

Military rations or delicious food?

[ Yes, good story Kitty. Confuse him even more. ]

The taking deliciousness for granted part you brought up. We definitely don't expect things to be delicious all the time and are glad when it is. [Stepping into the kitchen area they have during their stay on the Marsiva she starts looking for what's available to snack on.]

So, did I guess right before? Is your name, Steve?

[ he follows, cautiously curious, and perhaps thinking a little too much about what words she chooses to use, and why. ]

It was, yes. A long time ago.

[ He's not sure he has any right to reclaim it now, but that's a conversation for another time. ]

What do you go by now?

[Pulling out something similar to crackers but just slightly less overall pleasing to look at or eat.]

Rogers, until I can think of something more fitting.

[ To the man he is now. ]

It doesn't feel like it fits anymore? [Looking at him curiously.]

Mission 01: Action

The Marsiva, here to make an entrance?

what an entrance

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)