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driftfleet2019-03-13 09:20 pm
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Action | Of course they put us on Creepy Planet
Who: Steve Rogers, you, and stillgotmyleftarm
Broadcast: Nope
Action: B'lire
When: From their arrival to the planet till ???
Good Day's Work
Steve likes these kinds of jobs. In the absence of saving people, it's the best way to feel useful. Not to mention, of course, a great way to stay in shape. So Steve signs up for pretty much any and all construction jobs the local area needs. Pitching barns, clearing land, chopping wood. It's a good way to clear the mind and to lose oneself in a singular task. And it's also a good way to meet and talk with the locals. Locals who seem to be convinced that there are strange, urban-legend creatures around these parts. He listens to all the stories of cow-lickers and Slim Jims with a neutral patience he hopes doesn't betray how little he believes any of this.
Then again, he's talked to a werewolf and has fought aliens. Maybe he shouldn't be so dismissive.
But until he sees one, he's going to stick to his work. Today is putting up a fence for a farmer which has the added challenge of dodging sheep-like creatures that are loose until he's finished. At the moment Steve is balancing a log in one hand and holding an ax in the other, trying to get away from a particularly enamored animal. He wasn't made for this farm life. Not at all.
"You're making me feel a lot less bad about having you with mint jelly," he warns with absolutely no seriousness behind it.
Did You See That?
After a full week of work even Steve needs a day off. After Bucky made comments about his presence in bars the saloons don't seem like a good option so instead Steve goes to the museum at Gossiping Pines Lodge. It's not terribly expensive for admission but the little he spends still feels like a rip off. This planet was seriously invested in these fables of theirs. A whole museum of 'evidence' and stories. Steve spends about an hour before calling it and heading out instead for a walk in the woods. It's a nice day and it's a luxury in the Fleet to have some time to one's self. Still, his mind goes back to the museum as he walks and thinks about the crazy things he saw.
And that preoccupation, perhaps, is why he sees what he does.
He's deeper in the woods when a sound alerts him. It's heavier than the woodland creatures he'd seen so far. Almost like another person but not quite. He stops, calling out a greeting in case it's a hunter who can't see him yet. Don't shoot! You won't kill him but it's not a good feeling! But it's not a hunter, he sees as the figure comes into view. It looks like a man in a robe. A long, black cape. One that looks like wings... Steve stares, nothing about this feeling right. Which is when it turns and puts it's glowing red eyes on him. And flies up and into the trees.
"Man-Moth?" he remembers. But no. Steve rubs his eyes. No. No, that couldn't have been real. Just his imagination. Had to be.
Funfetti or Bust
With two Bucky's in the Fleet, Steve had felt especially determined to celebrate his friend's birthday. Sure, one didn't remember him, but everyone liked cake, right? Yeah. Well, he guessed he'd find out eventually. But for now, he's got to make sure he can even get the ingredients for the cake. No gels here. Not if he could help it. And thanks to the clone drama going on, he's got some money to burn but it's been a minute since he's done this. Not only that but he used to have his ma's cookbook to guide him. Now he's just working on memory and what seems to make instinctive sense.
Steve holds up what looks like a lumpy egg and inspects it. Is this like a chicken egg? Does it react the same way? Probably, right? Only one way to find out. He grabs a dozen and moves on to the flours that...all look exactly the same. "Shit..." Yeah, Steve curses. Call the newspapers. He scrubs a hand over his face and leans in closer as though proximity was his big problem, here.
This is going to be the worst cake, ever.
Camping BBs (Locked to stillgotmyleftarm)
Steve and Bucky had grown up in Brooklyn. It was the best place in the whole world but it had a pretty big deficit of thick forests and clean lakes. Because of that the times the two of them had gone camping could be counted on one hand with enough fingers left over to play the trumpet. But it had been something they talked about. Going to the Grand Canyon and camping for a few days. It had been a nice idea, if completely unrealistic. Except for now, it seems.
The cabin is small and Steve had to pay for it with labor but it's worth it for the chance to actually be out in nature. Soon enough they'll be back on the ship and longing for the fresh air. Might as well take advantage while they could. And besides, it was Bucky's birthday and Steve wasn't about to spend time in another bar trying to get drunk with him. They needed a change.
"There's fishing," he says as he drops off a small bag that makes a strange, clunking noise. Another filled with real food is put on the table. "Not pizza from Charlie's, but it'll do, old man."
Broadcast: Nope
Action: B'lire
When: From their arrival to the planet till ???
Good Day's Work
Steve likes these kinds of jobs. In the absence of saving people, it's the best way to feel useful. Not to mention, of course, a great way to stay in shape. So Steve signs up for pretty much any and all construction jobs the local area needs. Pitching barns, clearing land, chopping wood. It's a good way to clear the mind and to lose oneself in a singular task. And it's also a good way to meet and talk with the locals. Locals who seem to be convinced that there are strange, urban-legend creatures around these parts. He listens to all the stories of cow-lickers and Slim Jims with a neutral patience he hopes doesn't betray how little he believes any of this.
Then again, he's talked to a werewolf and has fought aliens. Maybe he shouldn't be so dismissive.
But until he sees one, he's going to stick to his work. Today is putting up a fence for a farmer which has the added challenge of dodging sheep-like creatures that are loose until he's finished. At the moment Steve is balancing a log in one hand and holding an ax in the other, trying to get away from a particularly enamored animal. He wasn't made for this farm life. Not at all.
"You're making me feel a lot less bad about having you with mint jelly," he warns with absolutely no seriousness behind it.
Did You See That?
After a full week of work even Steve needs a day off. After Bucky made comments about his presence in bars the saloons don't seem like a good option so instead Steve goes to the museum at Gossiping Pines Lodge. It's not terribly expensive for admission but the little he spends still feels like a rip off. This planet was seriously invested in these fables of theirs. A whole museum of 'evidence' and stories. Steve spends about an hour before calling it and heading out instead for a walk in the woods. It's a nice day and it's a luxury in the Fleet to have some time to one's self. Still, his mind goes back to the museum as he walks and thinks about the crazy things he saw.
And that preoccupation, perhaps, is why he sees what he does.
He's deeper in the woods when a sound alerts him. It's heavier than the woodland creatures he'd seen so far. Almost like another person but not quite. He stops, calling out a greeting in case it's a hunter who can't see him yet. Don't shoot! You won't kill him but it's not a good feeling! But it's not a hunter, he sees as the figure comes into view. It looks like a man in a robe. A long, black cape. One that looks like wings... Steve stares, nothing about this feeling right. Which is when it turns and puts it's glowing red eyes on him. And flies up and into the trees.
"Man-Moth?" he remembers. But no. Steve rubs his eyes. No. No, that couldn't have been real. Just his imagination. Had to be.
Funfetti or Bust
With two Bucky's in the Fleet, Steve had felt especially determined to celebrate his friend's birthday. Sure, one didn't remember him, but everyone liked cake, right? Yeah. Well, he guessed he'd find out eventually. But for now, he's got to make sure he can even get the ingredients for the cake. No gels here. Not if he could help it. And thanks to the clone drama going on, he's got some money to burn but it's been a minute since he's done this. Not only that but he used to have his ma's cookbook to guide him. Now he's just working on memory and what seems to make instinctive sense.
Steve holds up what looks like a lumpy egg and inspects it. Is this like a chicken egg? Does it react the same way? Probably, right? Only one way to find out. He grabs a dozen and moves on to the flours that...all look exactly the same. "Shit..." Yeah, Steve curses. Call the newspapers. He scrubs a hand over his face and leans in closer as though proximity was his big problem, here.
This is going to be the worst cake, ever.
Camping BBs (Locked to stillgotmyleftarm)
Steve and Bucky had grown up in Brooklyn. It was the best place in the whole world but it had a pretty big deficit of thick forests and clean lakes. Because of that the times the two of them had gone camping could be counted on one hand with enough fingers left over to play the trumpet. But it had been something they talked about. Going to the Grand Canyon and camping for a few days. It had been a nice idea, if completely unrealistic. Except for now, it seems.
The cabin is small and Steve had to pay for it with labor but it's worth it for the chance to actually be out in nature. Soon enough they'll be back on the ship and longing for the fresh air. Might as well take advantage while they could. And besides, it was Bucky's birthday and Steve wasn't about to spend time in another bar trying to get drunk with him. They needed a change.
"There's fishing," he says as he drops off a small bag that makes a strange, clunking noise. Another filled with real food is put on the table. "Not pizza from Charlie's, but it'll do, old man."
Did you see that? (She did not.)
IT WAS RIGHT THERE!
He was right there! I saw him! Red eyes and giant wings! [He wishes Sam were here. He could have flown right after him.]
You didn't see anything? Really? He was enormous!
Nope. Didn't see a thing. Maybe get your eyes checked?
Ummmmm...okay. [She does look where he points, but doesn't see any movement in the leaves separate from what's consistent with the current breeze. It doesn't mean there's nothing of course.]
You haven't been drinking since the last time I saw you, right? You did stop at some point?
This is gaslighting
Glowing red eyes are usually not indications of someone with good intentions. Usually.]
I know I saw something. I am going to go find it.
haha!
Why the finding? What did it do? [It's not that she doesn't believe he saw something if she's honest. She's just not sure why he's so amped up about it, but that doesn't mean there isn't a good reason.]
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[But now he's seen one and he's going to go after it. That's what Steve does with possible danger. He chases it.]
I wish Sam was here...He could at least fly.
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[She starts airwalking upward into the sky, but not out of earshot, just to give her a better view. It's not flying. She very much looks like she's just walking on air which is exactly what she's doing, but it does give her some height to look through the tree line at a different angle.]
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He watches as Kitty heads up, wondering if she can see the enormous wingspan of this creature. Or, worse yet, if it is waiting up there for her.]
See anything?
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Steve walks to where the creature was and finds a small scrap of moth wing stuck on a branch. It's big. About the size of his palm. Evidence, maybe, but not conclusive.]
This place is strange. And that's saying somethin' coming from someone who grew up where we did.
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[Steve looks over the piece of wing, confident now that the danger has passed. However, up in the sky there is a small, dark blur that seems to be a rather large bird. One that is headed toward Kitty. With glowing red eyes.]
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Her voice switches to something more business like as she keeps her eyes on it.]
Incoming!
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He does make a sound that's just this side of too polite to be a laugh, but only because he's being nice to Steve on account of his getting this cabin. "Is that you saying you know how to fish, Old MacDonald?"
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Trying to play it off, Steve reaches into the bag and pulls out a fruit that looks pretty much like an apple and tastes like one, too. He tosses it hard at Bucky's head figuring his friend will either catch it or he can laugh as it smacks him in the forehead. Win-win.
"Head's up!" He makes sure to say it two seconds too late.
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"I guess we're gonna find out," Bucky says - but he sounds pretty eager to do just that. (In reality, he is pretty sure that's all you need to do... but he guesses they really will find out, and clearly they won't starve if it's not.)
Right now, there's an apple(?) headed for his head - which he does manage to catch, if only because Steve isn't nearly as good at hiding what he plans to do when he's about to be a punk as he thinks he is. The fruit smacks into the palm of his hand, and Bucky maybe grins way too big at the force he can feel behind it - it's still stupid, the idea that they can roughhouse and no one's going to get seriously hurt, but it's also weirdly appealing, like getting away with something as kids - or sharing some secret the rest of the world isn't in on. It's not that he wants to hurt Steve, or wants to get hurt - but the idea that they're on the same level, that they don't have to really hold back makes something warm and satisfied settle in the pit of his stomach. Like being Captain America isn't so lonely, anymore.
Then again, nothing is as lonely with Steve as it is without him.
"Tryin' to make applesauce?" he asks, taking a big, crunching bite out of the thing - which does apparently resemble an apple well enough on the inside, too, so that's kind of a relief. "I don't think that's how you do it - maybe you should let me cook."
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"Like you'd know how to make applesauce." To be fair, though, Bucky wasn't a bad cook and Steve hasn't had anything made by him in decades. But this is for his birthday and he probably is in the same boat with Steve so he waves off the offer with a grin. "But nah. I have stuff in here for burgers if your ugly mug scares all the fish away. Oh! And..."
Steve crosses over to the icebox and opens it up to reveal a box of ice cream and carbonated water. "I was talkin' to Loki and Nat about egg creams and got nostalgic. Turns out carbonating water isn't so hard with the tech we got on hand. Couldn't manage syrup but I think it'll be fine."
Steve might be more excited about this than Bucky will be.
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"Well. I'll be damned," he says, with a laugh. "I haven't had an egg cream in... years." Both real time, and "his" time, because it's not like they were readily available in Europe, and he hadn't gone hunting one down after he came out of the ice. Someone had told him they were still a menu item - but not a popular one. Only some places served them, and even then... he wasn't sure they would be the same. Maybe the egg cream had gone the way of the banana. Part of Bucky just hadn't wanted to find out.
That, and egg creams had definitely been Steve's thing. He'd always ordered one whenever they'd had enough cash to spare, and the look he'd get on his face... it was one of the few things he'd ever allowed himself to indulge in. Even the thought of trying one alone in modern New York had been more than a little unappealing.
"I guess maybe we'll give 'em a try - after you show me your fishing skills," he says, around another bite of not!apple. "I think that's gonna take a while, we should probably go while there's plenty of daylight."
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"Now, don't go intentionally throwing your fish away because you want burgers," he warns as he grabs the last few items and heads back out into the sun. Steve turns his face up and into it, breathing the fresh air in. It's nice. It's the nicest break he's had in...well. Maybe since the serum.
"I feel so lazy, right now," he confesses. "Like I should be rescuing someone instead of just. This..." He's grinning despite it, back to being sixteen when he didn't have to worry about the weight of the world.
"It's not bad. As far as kidnappings go, this is a pretty good outcome."
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Honestly, it's embarrassingly satisfying to see Steve so happy; it's also embarrassingly easy to forget, at least momentarily, that they've been kidnapped and aren't on Earth. It's still so much like a dream - a dream that's going so well you don't want to wake up from it, even as your alarm is going off. But right now, there are no alarms - there's only Steve's dumb happy face, and the way it makes Bucky feel like he's done something incredibly right, even as he pushes away from the counter where he was leaning and follows Steve out the door.
The fresh air does feel good, and it catches in Steve's modern, short haircut in a way that makes it shine almost too bright to look at, for a moment.
"Maybe this is the universe's way of telling you to take a damn vacation," Bucky points out, shutting the door behind them and then falling into step with Steve as they head a little deeper into the forest, toward the faint sounds of running water. "If I haven't gotten one, I know you haven't."
And if it's because he hasn't wanted one, because keeping busy is better than the alternative... well, he knows that Steve definitely feels the same way.
"Honestly, it's kinda still like working for a living," Bucky points out thoughtfully. "Actors get paid. So do we." Even though they're not acting - he's pretty sure the people on reality TV are raking it in. It's the same concept, in a way, even though none of them agreed to this. There's still something about it that makes him antsy and unhappy, but it's on other people's behalf - not his own. Because Steve's right. This is a pretty good outcome.
"I mean. People might pay a lot to see you fall into the river trying to fish," he points out, bumping shoulders.
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Damned if it didn't work.
"You're the one going in the water," Steve prophesied, his smile saying just who was going to put him there. He nudged Bucky back and enjoyed the walk to what ended up being a pretty large lake fed by a river. Steve looked down and saw fish but no bottom. How long had it been since he swam and wasn't holding a body? Maybe later in the day. Or even in another lake, actually. The trees here are thick and, looking up, it's hard to see much sunlight coming through. The relative privacy is nice, however. Makes Steve forget they're still being watched.
He baits a hook and attaches it to the pole. His first cast is hard enough to nearly clear the whole lake. He winds it back and tries again with somewhat better luck.
"First one to catch a fish can shove the other one in?" He's got a head start so Steve likes his odds.
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Bucky, meanwhile, is watching Steve's overenthusiastic casting with a look that's far, far too much like a self-satisfied smirk. "Sure, that seems fair," he points out, going for the other pole and the tackle box, doing his best to look over the whole thing casually and pick out something that looks like it will work. At least this part of it does seem pretty straightforward: Get a pole, bait the hook, get the bait in the water.
His initial cast is somewhat more conservative, largely because he's making an effort to keep it under control. Of course, once they both have lines in the water - and he sure hopes they're far apart enough that these things won't tangle, because suddenly that seems like a distinct possibility - he turns to Steve with a lopsided grin. "So... how fast do you think fish bite?"
All the mental images he has is of people lolling around with hats pulled over their eyes, waiting for a bite. He isn't sure whether that's accurate, and also isn't sure Steve has an answer, but it seems like a reasonable thing to ask. Maybe Steve has actually done some research.
Yeah, right.
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"Tryin' to get away from me already?" Steve holds the pole loose, nothing happening yet. He should have gotten beer or something for them to drink while doing this. Nothing on the planet is enough to get them drunk but the taste is still good. Maybe tomorrow.
Christ. Planning ahead for time with Bucky. He still can't take it for granted. He smirks over at the brunet and kicks the water in his direction lazily.
"I dunno. Never fished before," he answers more honestly. "We can probably give it a half hour or so before I put you on the hook and try that."
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Now that look is back, and Bucky doesn't want to get away from it at all. He wants it to stick around a while, and maybe he wants to stick around to make sure it does.
He rolls his eyes as Steve splashes him a little, but the weather's fair enough that it'll dry fast enough. "Nah, you'd be better bait. I heard fish like cheese, and you're a fuckton cheesier than I am, pal."
Bucky finally relents, settling down on the bank next to Steve, propping his pole up against one leg, one eye on the line while he takes in the scenery around them, the solid figure of Steve next to him, and thinks... this really isn't a bad way to spend a day. Or more. A lot more, maybe. He's a city boy, through and through, but a little nature isn't bad. Not when they're not being rained on, or half-frozen, or shelled. "S'actually pretty relaxing out here," he murmurs, leaning back a bit. "I feel like someone's gonna come and take my City Boy card just for sayin' it."
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He nudges into his friend and enjoys the solid feeling of Bucky beside him. The warmth he puts off is like a radiator. They both must run hot from the serum; Steve had always been freezing growing up. So many nights they'd crawl in bed together so Steve wouldn't shiver himself to death. In this day, that sort of behavior is strangely less accepted. Back then it was just what friends did.
Steve had missed it. Badly. But now there really wasn't any reason for it. None except him being weak. So yeah, none.
Steve exhales and looks up at the shaded treetop. The few peeks of sun are gone as a cloud must have passed in front. The area is dark like almost twilight for the moment. Steve's about to comment on it and a distant memory of an eclipse they'd been able to see as boys, but before he can, he hears a noise.
It's distant and muffled but it's the sound of weeping. Hard, grieving sobs from a woman that seemed to either be getting louder or closer. Or both. Steve turns his head around trying to find it. It doesn't take long; by the mouth of the river feeding into the lake stood a woman dressed all in white. Her back is to them, head tilted down as she cries. Steve blinks, certain she hadn't been there moments before.
Certain, somehow, that something wasn't right. But the cries are pulling at him. Demanding for him to get closer onto the muddy bank she's on and ask what was wrong. It takes everything in him to not stand.
"Do you see her?" He has to check.
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Scene before they make out?