nexus_crossings | Ghosts in the Machine

Ghosts in the Machine

There’s a young woman reading through one of the pamphlets in the plaza. She’s dressed head to toe in a rather odd black garment like a padded wetsuit - it looks like it’s all one piece, soft, elastic and form-fitting. Her hair’s a little disheveled and she has a frown of concentration as she reads, but her location doesn’t seem to worry her.

As far as she’s concerned, it’s obvious where she is. The last few weeks have been nothing but tests and interviews and assessment exercises of one form or another. More than a few have taken place using increasingly sophisticated simulation tech. This is just another program, and presumably somewhere above is the AI overseeing her progress.

Still, this is definitely a new one.

“Who comes up with these scenarios?” she wonders aloud in amusement. Then shoots a look at the tiny silver robot floating at a cautious distance. “No offense meant- and that wasn’t my question, sorry.” The Ghost bobs noncommittally, and she looks around, taking in the strange mix of people and aliens, the unrealistic architecture. “So does it matter what I ask?” The answer is murmured quietly, but presumably boils down to ‘no’. She rolls her shoulders and shifts on her feet, making thoughtful sounds for a minute. She really wants to ask something good. Insightful. Practical. Soldierly.

“Is there something around here you really need weapons for?” She had two when she started here - not to mention the ridiculous armor. The assisting ‘Ghost’ AI removed them for her, but that still leaves the question of why this simulation included them...

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Ghost would be the first to tell Steve that it's not his fault. That by Bryn's very nature she raises the specters of ancient losses. Things Ghost doesn't remember himself, but it's hard not to feel sad listening to her speak with such happy pride of things long taken from them.

For now she's nodding, blissfully unaware. "Seemed like a good idea at the time," she answers (only half kidding). "So... now- in our time - all the really important challenges we face are out on the frontier. We're expanding farther and farther, into places where no human's ever set foot before. And then we have to keep the colonies running safely." She sips her coffee, shrugs. "I want to help - to be part of all that. I'm not some brilliant scientist, but if someone's got to go out and take a few risks, I can do that."

She might have been about to add something, from her quick smile, but then she pauses thoughtfully. "Although I guess being a soldier is very different for us than in your time period. 1941 is... sometime during the war, right?"

"The uh...how did they say it?" Steve nods, glancing down at his coffee. "The second world war. Japan had just attacked Pearl harbor when I..."

Slim fingers tap against the table they're sitting at while Steve recounts the day he ended up in the Nexus. The fight in the theater. Bucky showing up with two swell gals, neither of whom had any interest in Steve. Watching Howard Stark's science demonstration and then...the recruiting office.

How he'd decided to try one more time. Said goodbye to Bucky, and opened a door that didn't lead anywhere on his world at all.

"Next thing I knew, here I was. I hope it's going alright, back home."

Bryn listens with evident curiosity as she sips the coffee. Blaze never has been much for hiding her feelings: made younger and given a human face to express herself with, she's an open book. Her mingled surprise and concern (and then the fascination she tries to hide) when he talks about getting into a fight, like that just happens sometimes. The flash of a smile that quirks ruefully at the double date gone awry, piqued interest when he mentions the science demo.

It's a glimpse into a bygone world, after all. And yet one that's not so strange on a human level. People are people.

"I'm sure it is." She has to hold her tongue, fretting visibly over how much to say. Honestly she can add, "I don't know Earth history very well, but... from what they taught us people in your time were- are resilient."

She considers some of what he said, and the man across from her. "You were really determined to enlist, huh? Sounds like you weren't going to let anyone stop you."

Steve's accent slips in a bit more when he talks about the past. Slang that he's done his best to drop here in the Nexus where most people come from a much different time and place than where he came from. Blue eyes seem distant while he talks though they focus again when Bryn speaks up. His glance slides from her to Ghost and then back, careful not to leave either of them out of the conversation.

"They are. It's hard. I know what is supposed to happen. Or, what's happened in a few different Earths I've been to since I got here." Miss Siri showed him the World Ward II memorials on his phone. The Holocaust Memorials. The Hiroshima memorials. And...the memorials to Captain America and the Howling Commandos. Steve remembers seeing the Winter Soldier in the Nexus, so many long months ago. He knows how these things have happened in other worlds. He wishes he could make a difference to his own.

"I wanted to do my part. I didn't want to kill anyone, but I was prepared to. I just....wanted to make a difference. Wanted to be out there, with Buck. With the other folks just trying to do what was right."

They both blink to find he's gone and found out the full story, though it's Ghost who flutters and drifts closer in concern.

"That must have been very hard to learn," he says quietly, optic peeking at Steve's face. They didn't know this.

Bryn's watching him closely too, unfamiliar with Steve himself but feeling a sympathetic wrench nonetheless. "It seems unfair that you ended up here." Getting yanked even farther away after he tried so hard to play his part...

And listening to Steve talk about it is... it's very far from reading a history textbook. Especially since, as understanding as they try to be, it's hard for anyone coming from a post-Traveler, post-war society to look back on their ancestors and not judge them even a little bit. Those unconscious expectations become a little bit jarring when her brain tries to match them up with Steve.

"...Would you tell me what New York is like? It's fine if you'd rather talk about something else. Or if you don't want to talk about wartime. I've only even been to Earth twice, and I was just a kid the first time. It's all different to me." That's a fumble, but she loves her home and she loves sharing it with other people; she works on the basis that the same thing might cheer him up too.

"Everyone always talked about it. I...wanted to know what happened." Steve nods though. It was very hard to learn. Hard to learn how many lives had been lost on every side. Hard to learn about the truth behind those concentration camps. And what made him feel worst of all, was that learning what happened to his friend hurt more than any of it did. He was human too, and knowing that he'd lose a friend cut deeper than the sadness of a nation or of an entire race. It made him feel sick, selfish, and empty.

"You have? Which parts? I'm from Brooklyn, it's a neighborhood in New York City. There's a lot of Irish immigrants there when I"m from and it's a poor neighborhood, but we always got by. After my Ma died Buck invited me to live with his family. I was too proud then, so he moved in with me instead. We had to work real hard to get by but it was worth it. We'd go see a movie every now and again when we had a couple of extra dimes. Head down to the pier when the weather was nice. It was busy even then, but I've seen it from Miss Siri's pictures. It's crazy now. So many lights and big screens and so many people."

He wishes he could live there, even. Any version of his home even if its' not the exact time and version as the one he came from.

"Though it's not so much Irish that are considered a minority anymore, I guess."

"I... suppose at least you found out on your own terms. The difficulty, for a Ghost, is that you can't offer physical comfort easily and for some circumstances there are no adequate words.

On the other hand, he has a very tactile partner. Bryn has no words to offer at all, she just reaches impulsively across the table to touch Steve's hand gently. They don't know each other well and she wonders after doing it if it's 'proper'. But it feels like the right thing to do and now... well, the offer of human contact is there, if he wants.

"It's hard to imagine any city without its lights," she says with a slight smile. Slight, because he just mentioned his mother dying and she can't hide the distressed pang that crosses her face. Come on, Bryn. Don't ask about that mystery. You're trying to cheer him up. "What kind of work did you do there? I'm going to guess the job opportunities weren't exactly the same as around here."

She has to do a bit of thinking back to answer his question. "The first time I went was a long time ago, and we were visiting family so we had to do kind of a tour. But I remember Darwin in North Australia, stopping over in Illinois, and a couple of places in the European Zone... I, uh, don't know what they'd be called in your time." She shrugs sheepishly. "And some classmates and I went to Kolkata for a couple of weeks."

"I uh.." Steve swallows thinkly and looks down at his coffee. "Freelance work. Drawing up ads for newspapers. Little cartoons. I was trying to get a full time job outta it but..."

Times were tough back then for most everyone.

"Buck did a lot of work on the docks with cargo. I...couldn't do that kinda work." Or a lot of others, with his constitution. He listens carefully to Bryn's description of earth, so familiar and yet foreign to his ears. He realizes he has no idea where she's talking about, even if he thinks? It might be in the US? Maybe? Some serious territory swaps have happened between his time and hers.

"Well, I mean this place has a bit of everything here. What do you want to see? I'm sure I could find us something. Books in the library. Miss Siri's database. Lots of stuff."

"Well, maybe you were lucky not to be working outdoors. Docks are interesting places but I remember how cold it gets over there." So she says, though in fact her one trip to the temperate climes of Earth happened during early summer and she really has no idea what it's like to be out in the cold there.

She sips her coffee and shakes her head. "We have books and databases back home. I'd rather see things for myself if I can... hey, since we were talking about museums earlier, does the Nexus have any? That seems like a quick way to catch up on what's out there."

Besides which... she thinks being on the move will help cheer him up better than stewing over memories. So far her first plan is having mixed results, to say the least.

"Oh definitely. The winters used to be all kinds of bad. The wind howling and rattling the windows off their shutters. The snow. Brrr. I'm not much of a fan of winter. Looks pretty but it was always the worst time of the year for me."

"I know there's an aquarium? I was there once for a birthday party." Steve nods thoughtfully. "I'm sure we could find something like a museum if we looked around long enough. I haven't done too much exploring downtown."

Her eyes widen a little at his description: that's a level of fierce weather she's definitely unfamiliar with. Sort of exciting, if the thought of the cold didn't make her shiver. "That's a real shame. I always thought snow looked like it would be fun."

"I'm... sure you'll have the opportunity to find out sooner or later."

She flashes Ghost a smile at that, though the prospect of exploring now is what truly makes her hum appreciatively. She takes a swig of coffee, fortunate that it's had a few minutes to cool by now. "Now's a good time to start, right?"

"It can be fun, I just..." Steve gives a small shrug of his small shoulders. It's not that the weather doesn't have good points. It's just Steve doesn't handle it too well. He isn't overly fond of the cold. "I get sick a lot, so I can't usually enjoy it anyway."

He gives Ghost a small smile, hoping that they're doing an alright job of looking after Bryn. It's got to be tough on the little bot, but he's toughing through admirably.

"Alright. What sort do you like? History? Art? Science?" As though they're spoiled for choice. Steve assumes that they'll take the first one they can find regardless of topic, but it doesn't hurt to know what to keep an eye out for.

"Oh." She frowns and looks him over for a minute. Chronic poor health is clearly well outside her experience of the world. But she pulls a face in sympathy and offers, "That's pretty rough. I hope the climate here is easier on you." It's fairly mild right now, anyway...

Ghost gives Steve a little nod as soon as she's not looking. He's entirely happy with this plan - this way, she'll be kept safely occupied somewhere harmless for hours on end. And what kind of place is more likely to have something that'll jog her memory?

Besides a battlefield, anyway.

"A history museum here would be something else," she muses. "I'd like to see that- although I've got kind of a weakness for scientific exhibitions and they'd be fascinating too. But we'll see what we run across. We're kind of in a tourist's paradise here, aren't we?"

"Aside from the occasional assault by demons and spirits," Ghost adds dryly, unthinking. Bryn turns a look of surprised concern on him and he adds hastily, "But those are very infrequent!

"I heard about that. Usually there's a field in place to keep people from being harmed though. This place is probably the safest one can get that I know of. Maybe a bit crazy at times, but."

It can be a little frustrating talking to people who are clearly not good and not being able to do anything about it. Steve isn't the sort of person to let things slide when he sees wrongdoings being done. Luckily for the most part the Nexus is fairly tame there, too. And he's learned which areas to not frequent.

Steve will lead Bryn and Ghost toward downtown, pointing out various places as they go by. The art store he likes to frequent, Nana's Diner, the strange fountain with the tentacle monster statue. Something about a Cthulu, whatever that is.

"I've been here for a year already and I'm still finding new places every time I go out."

"Well, I think I can handle crazy." Bryn's looking around eagerly as they walk - studying a window display of magical paraphernalia, peering down the windy alleyways they encounter as they head further into the Nexus. She's careful not to stray far from Steve, though. In spite of the mixture of technologies here, the glimpses of things fantastical and alien and possibly far in advance of her own world... it still has kind of a quaint feel to it. Maybe it's the sprawling, irregular layout of the place as much as anything. She's used to neatly-planned complexes among looming towers.

"It's like something out of a movie," she comments cheerfully. "Or old photographs, maybe. I hope I'm allowed to come back. I mean, I hope we can get back easily. People back home would love all of this. It'd probably all be classified for decades, but still..."

It's a whole different environment, different atmosphere, extremely different people... but it's also true that Bryn's just not used to being on the alert for trouble in any serious way.

So when a trio of humanoids move off the main street and down an alleyway, and the smaller fellow in front looks rather tense about it... she's content to give them the benefit of the doubt. They've obviously got something private to attend to and she couldn't begin to guess what. She doesn't pick up on the threatening body language of the taller pale alien, or the greenish tusked fellow acting as his muscle.

"I'm sure you will be. Ghost comes here pretty often and he and I are good friends."

Steve smiles up at the little bot, proud to be saying so of Bryn's companion. He considers both ghost and Blaze as his friends after all. He needn't mention the patrols they're usually doing, or the frequenting of bars usually reserved for non-humans or mechanicals.

"The last movie I ever saw was the Wizard of Oz, I can definitely see the....similar...ities.." Ghost may be surprised when Steve stops in his tracks, narrowed eyes watching this move to an alleyway. His jaw ticks as he clenches his teeth. Steve Rogers is from a poor neighborhood in Brooklyn. He knows trouble when he sees it. But rather than grab Bryn or even Ghost, Steve hangs back and allows Bryn to keep talking while he circles back to peer into the alley, just to check and see what's going on.

Were they so close to the industrial district that the field was weak? Steve hopes not, but he's going to check in on this, just in case.

Ghost starts, his optic widening a little as he turns to look at Steve. His shell spins once, twice, before he says quietly, "Thank you, Steve."

It's good to be reminded that he's not alone. That it's not just him and, well, a memory in need of guarding.

"Now that's a great comparison. It's the way everything's so jumbled together, I think..." Bryn is too busy talking and walking to notice Steve dropping back. Ghost's gaze darts after him though, the little bot hesitating before he returns his attention to Bryn. After all, he trusts Steve not to do anything foolhardy around here...

Neither of them has a clue to what Steve is observing. Perhaps the field is weaker here, weak enough for unscrupulous people to find ways around it. The pale fellow here, with the ridged face? He speaks in low and meaningful tones to the guy they just escorted off the main street. The latter's shoulders slump; within a few moments he sucks in a breath and nods.

This is the cue for the tusked guy to knock him off his feet with a blow to the gut. The pale one leans against the alley wall to watch.

It's coercion. Pure and simple.

Steve knows enough to see that. Whatever threats the larger man had made, agreeing to physical violence was preferable. Steve doesn't know how they've managed to get around the field, but that detail suddenly doesn't seem to matter very much. What he does know is that this man doesn't stand much of a chance and they don't seem inclined to give him one.

Bony fingers ball into fists. Steve sucks in a breath, looking around for any kind of weapon. He settles on a plastic bag, the only bit of litter he can reach. He twists it into a makeshift cord and wastes no time sprinting into the alley as fast as his knobbly knees will carry him. He leaps up onto the back of the attacker, bringing the bag around the thug's neck and leaning back, using all ninety pounds of his body weight to try and haul the guy off of the humanoid he'd been attacking.

"Leave him alone!" He's smaller even than the victim here, but that doesn't seem to deter Steve any as he clings on like a cowboy at the rodeo. "Pick on someone your own size!"

It's the last thing anyone in that alley expects: some tiny guy flying into the fray with over-sized coat a-flutter and going straight for the biggest throat on offer. Steve has audacity and shock in his favor, at least for the first minute. The thug he goes for had been bending to kick his prone target a few times; he staggers to one side, leaning back and grabbing at the bag throttling him.

The guy they were attacking may have been resigned to going limp and taking it, but when the thug starts staggering and stamping around blindly, he rolls over and scrambles out of range. The thug's partner doesn't seem to care about him any more. He's cursing in outraged disbelief at this interference.

"Kargash, you motherless idiot! Throw him off!"

Whether obeying or not, Steve's opponent reaches back to grab his arms, aiming to throw the smaller man over his head with a cry that's more sputter than bellow.

And meanwhile, further up the main street? Bryn looks around in growing surprise and alarms the Ghost by asking "Wait, where'd Steve go?"

"He's- oh. But- he was right behind us just a minute ago..."

It's a lot easier to throw the assailant than the big lug Kargash may suspect; Steve goes literally flying back out the alleyway, landing shoulder first and rolling across the pavement. He literally skips after the first bounce. There's already blood from a hefty dose of road rash Steve's got on his cheek and the palms of both hands.

Really, he's lucky he hasn't broken anything with how hard he landed. He's up on his feet as soon as he can pull himself up despite the wheezing protest of his lungs.

"That all you've got?" Bringing up both bloody fists in front of himself again. "I can do this all day, punk." Later, much later-- Steve will feel guilty about the thrill that courses through him as adrenaline floods his system. The satisfying sting of the scrapes on his hands. The sound of his shoes slapping against the pavement as he sprints right back in there and ducks under the the larger creature to sock the thug's partner square between his eyes.

The Nexus is a safe place, if not strange, most of the time. But Steve's finding himself almsot glad that it isn't completely, right in this moment. Even as a fist knocks the wind out form him bodily and sends him back down to the ground. This is where he belongs, and he'll feel guilty later. Right now there's too much at stake.

The mouthpiece of this little outfit isn't helping his own defense. No, he's stopped to laugh at the tiny man getting bounced out onto the street. It's an unkind laugh, the sort you really have to practice to hit the right menacing notes. Totally ruined when Steve bypasses Kargash and plants a fist in his face.

He staggers for a moment, as much from outraged pride as stunned pain. It's left to Kargash to quit rubbing his throat and redeem himself by knocking down their new assailant. The former victim's backed down the alley nervously, clinging to the wall as he watches unhappily. He doesn't dare interfere, is afraid of the consequences if he bugs out before being 'dismissed'.

Still, the thugs are plenty distracted right now. Kargash's friend pushes him aside to get a savage kick in at the runt while he's down. He's swearing all the while, broken only by bursts of invective. "You dumb little fucker! Trying to play hero on our territory? Are you fucking kidding me? You have no fucking idea who you're playing with!"

The same could be said of him, though. Doubly so because Steve being flung into the street and hurling himself back in amid battle cries, well, that's the kind of commotion that's easy for a pair of searching friends to pick up on. Hell, some guy's already trying to sell bad sausage buns to the rubbernecking tourists. Steve only has to hold them off for another minute before reinforcement comes sprinting his way.

"It's not playing anything, and it's not....being a hero."

Steve spits at the shorter man kicking him, trying to urge his protesting limbs to move. The kicks send the air rushing from his lungs and he has to cough. Blood is dripping onto the ground. It would be so easy to just lay here and let them get this out of their system. He hurts.

Blue eyes waver across the alleyway and despite swaying land on the frightened man who is still there. The noise of the alley seems to fade to a soft buzz of white noise as his eyes focus. His hands flatten against the pavement. He stumbles with another kick, but he gets back on his feet.

"I'm not afraid of you." Someone has to be strong for those who can't. Someone has to stand up for those who won't. "Get out of here. It's the only chance I'm giving you to give up." They might think it's funny coming from the ninety pound waif who's bleeding and bruising all over already. Steve doesn't care, mind already working through how he's going to lead them away so the man they'd been harassing can leave freely.

"L-look," their victim tries to interject, while the ringleader puts a boot in for that spit. "He's already... uh.." It's hard to claim Steve's done when he's pushing himself to his feet, determined to ignore the pain they're inflicting. The thugs' expressions harden. Steve can be sure of one thing: he's not going to lose their attention until they feel he's learned his lesson.

The bigger one snorts in disbelief while his friend laughs. It's an unpleasant laugh: he probably had to practice it. "Us give up? You're just determined to get that face beaten in, aren't you runt?"

Apparently he's satisfied himself though - or gotten a sore foot. He waves for Kargash to carry on with the beating, turning away to have the last word with their cowering 'client'. These two are really bad at watching their back.

"Hey! Back off!" The angry shout rings out from the alley entrance as Kargash moves in. He turns in time to get a fist in the jaw as Bryn charges in to join the fray. She's not a practiced fighter, but she's not small or lightly-boned either and there's real force behind it. Ghost's floating behind cautiously, trying to skirt the fight and get close enough to scan Steve.

There's a smile Steve gets when Bryn's yell echoes through the alleyway. He hadn't been counting on her help, and he might have even gotten upset at someone helping out if it were just his safety on the line. But there's someone else to consider, and Steve isn't about to put his own pride over the safety of an innocent.

He does look dangerous though, for that split second. While Bryn tackles the big lug Kargash, Steve takes off as fast as his feet will carry him. He grabbs a trash can lid and brings it up over his head before swinging it down with all his might, knocking the guy in the back of the head (or the side, if he's turned) as hard as he can.

"Wrong answer!" Steve growls, already winding up for a followup swing.

Edited 2016-09-07 00:22 (UTC)

The unnamed thug is swearing under his breath, swinging around to see who else has invited herself to the party, when Steve brings the edge of his makeshift weapon down on his skull.

He stumbles to one side, flailing an arm at Steve to try and ward off that following blow. Unfortunately for him, size can't wholly make up for the element of surprise and a direct blow to the head. "Fuck! Karg- Kargash!"

His buddy's having better luck for the moment. Bryn got in a good hit, but when the big guy steadies himself and takes a swing at her instead of backing down, she realizes abruptly that she... didn't really plan this out. It takes a blow from Kargash to spur her back into hitting him, with more anger and determination than actual aim.

All the same it bloodies his nose, and it's enough. Kargash has been choked, punched and insulted way too much for a simple job like this should have been. His partner's reeling from some tiny punk's lucky shot and this is just not worth it. He shoves Bryn off her feet, then pounds over to knock Steve away from his pal. "Enough! Come on, this ain't worth the hassle!"

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