Mission 01: Action

[unspangled]

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. ]

Comments

[unspangled]

[ 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?

[passingthrough]

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.

[unspangled]

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?

[passingthrough]

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?

[unspangled]

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?

[passingthrough]

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?

[unspangled]

[ 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. ]

[passingthrough]

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?

[unspangled]

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.

[passingthrough]

[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.

[unspangled]

Military rations or delicious food?

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

[passingthrough]

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?

[unspangled]

[ 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. ]

[passingthrough]

What do you go by now?

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

[unspangled]

Rogers, until I can think of something more fitting.

[ To the man he is now. ]

[passingthrough]

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

[unspangled]

Not really. The man with the name was a good man. I'm not.

[passingthrough]

Truly bad men don't usually feel that kind of guilt, do they?

[unspangled]

I wouldn't know.

[ He's not being this grouchy on purpose, Kitty. Probably not. ]