Asleep inside the Cannon's Mouth

[shieldborne]

A small figure walks through the Plaza, resolutely ignoring the video playing on the screen he passes. He's a scrawny blond thirty-something with a chip on his shoulder, which rests delicately overtop of the neoprene brace on the same (right) shoulder. The bulge in his pocket is an albuterol inhaler, not a weapon, but there's something about the chin-up, slow stride that says ex-military. But that's...not possible, because no army would take a kid that's five-four in boots, whose spine is a shallow sideways s-curve and who looks like the majority of his bones are hollow as a bird's.

It's been a while since this iteration of Steve Rogers was in the Nexus, and possibly the only reason he's here now is he slipped away from the various people who are determined to protect him from himself, back home. When Bucky and Sam catch up with him, they're gonna give him hell, but it might be worth it, if he can just find the goddamn place he's been looking for.

"Right." At the far end of the shopping district, he finally pauses and sits on the edge of a fountain to catch his breath. His feet are killing him already. "Didn't there used to be a big arts and crafts store around here somewhere??"

I mean, you leave town for a couple years and things are bound to change, but he's not quite ready to give up on his goal quite yet. The paints he wants aren't even being manufactured in his world right now.

Comments

[juststeverogers]

Routine patrol, nothing serious. One second Siri had her partner at her side commenting on the maintenance he's thinking about trying to teach himself on a recovered old gun after they're done on patrol for the day, the next he goes one way underneath a passing arch while she flies around only there's no Steve on the other side.

No sign of Her Guardian on her sensors. Not a spark of the Light she knows so well.

"Guardian?" She tries zipping under the same archway he'd taken but there's no sign of him. "Not funny..!" Her voice modulator wavers as she flies higher. He couldn't have just Vanished, right? He couldn't have...

Something pings on her sensors. It's not strong but it's There and she knows it. Siri bolts across the Plaza toward the more crowded storefronts. Chasing down that familiar readout on her sensors until she nearly smacks optic-first into--her?? Guardian????

"A...a what store?" Did you know the Traveler's children could Error 404? Neither did Siri until just now!

[shieldborne]

Whatever kind of response he expected, Steve was not expecting to almost be bonked in the face by a small, hovering robot. He lurches back a few inches in startlement but manages to course-correct before falling into the fountain behind him. Which is good, because getting soaked might be a bridge too far in this comedy of errors.

He registers at once that she's anxious, from the tone of voice, though he can't imagine why. He is far less familiar with the Guardians and the Light than his counterpart, and it takes him a space of a few seconds to realize what he's looking at. Someone's Ghost, but not Blaze's Ghost. Is that weird? Are they ever out by themselves?

"Uh...art...supplies? For painting? No one's making oil paint where I'm from right now, and I'm trying to rebuild my set."

Give him a minute here, he's almost as confused as she is. "...hi."

[ididntasktogetmade]

Rocket's had a good deal more exposure to humans in recent years than he has in his entire life, so his first thought on spotting this skinny little guy (who is still a head taller than himself, if not more) is that this is a kid. One that should probably eat more; he's more of a twig than Groot.

Speaking of whom, the treenager is on the other side of the fountain, splashing at the water with his hands and looking thirstily at one of the jets. Same old Groot, gross as ever. Rocket rolls his eyes, not moving to stop him as he turns his attention to the kid - not a kid? - while keeping his own charge in his periphery. Hmm. His voice sounds kinda familiar though. "Probably used to be a lotta stuff around here that ain't anymore. What kinda crafts you lookin' for? That's one hell of a broad category."

[shieldborne]

Not a kid, not really, but he does have an awfully young face for someone over a hundred years old. Honestly, he has a young face for someone over thirty. As soon as he spies Rocket, Steve smiles a little--just a little, because it's a toss-up whether Rocket's smartassery makes him want to punch something or laugh--but he's more or less a friend. "Hey, I didn't know you were around. Where's--oh."

There's Groot. Steve scoots over a little to avoid getting splashed. And at that point it occurs to him that they're probably not his world's versions.

"Paints," he clarifies. "Oil paints, mostly. There are some pigments that I don't think my planet even has that I want for a project, and anyway no one's manufacturing artist paints right now. Everything's being rebuilt so that's all anyone's focused on."

[outpostcook]

It's been a long time since Kinner has met Steve Rogers - not since the Long Winter, and he even remembers hearing that Steve was dead from his friend Cricket. The Nexus suffered much grief, between the House of Winter's invasion at home and Thanos's activities elsewhere. And now that things seem, more or less, back to normal, Steve is back. One of them, anyway.

Kinner has questions, but first his jaw drops. The small cook is stunned, but regains his composure.

"Steve? Is that you?" He's not too surprised finding that Steve is somehow back from the dead. That's what happened to him, too, but...Steve probably has a lot he missed out on since then. "It's Joe Kinner."

[shieldborne]

Well, that's not a great reaction...but it's to be expected, really. Steve gives the faintest of winces, waits a moment, and then manages a smile when Kinner recovers. "Yeah, it's me. Hey, pal, how've you been?"

He does remember Kinner. It feels like it's been a long time. It's funny as hell to note they're a lot close in height now. "I'm, uh, the one with the safe house at the edge of the Plaza."

[totallyadog]

A big dog approaches Steve, picking up the familiar scent. It's been a while, but the Malamute's sense of smell is effective, identifying him as someone familiar and a friend. The alien isn't sure whether Steve knows them as an alien or just as the dog from winter, but they bark and try their best to seem friendly and doggish. No shapeshifting and no telepathy, not yet anyway.

Bob considers Steve a friend, anyway, for taking that chance and letting them in.

In the end, they just plonk their furry self on the ground and loudly pant. That's what dogs do, and people like it when they do that.

[shieldborne]

A dog is unexpected! And to Steve, who never got a real visual sense of Bob's doggy shape, a dog is a dog is a dog. It'll take him a minute to recognize him and remember what he does know.

"Hey, pupper," he greets, looking around to see if there's an owner. "You lost, too? Don't tell anyone, but shit looks way bigger to me than the last time I was here."

He offers a hand to sniff, knuckles first.

[ziggyplayedguitar]

The tall, thin, red head that pauses to answer even makes Steve's lanky body look like it is well muscled, if even shorter than normal. The crazy clothes, gold paint on the face, and glitter was, in part, Ziggy's love of craft stores and crafting in general, though it went by the fancier name fashion design usually.

"It's on the next block over." Ziggy mentions as he pauses to see if he needs to give directions. The wear on his body and need for rest are clear to the Anthean who can get louder emotions as well as hear the pace of his heart and other things beyond the human experience. "I can show you."

He could get some more things from the store, even if Mick might frown at yet another pot of glitter showing up.

[shieldborne]

And herein, Steve experiences a moment of Nexus weirdness that he has only ever been on the receiving end of! Were he from before the war, he might not do the double-take he does here, but in point of fact David Bowie and Ziggy Stardust were two of many items on his list of things he was supposed to look into to catch up on the many decades he missed in the ice. He may not have related to the album on the level someone who actually lived through the time period it was written would have, but he didn't dislike it, either. It's hard to argue with an anti-war message.

"Uh...thanks," he says, blinking, then shakes himself a little and stands up. "Are you, um...you're a musician, right?"

(That's not actually going to narrow it down, Steve.)

[delphicbooksandbaubles]

Aal semi pads/waddles at an even pace looking for some baby-safe materials and likely words for a project or two of her own while she still can manage such. She plans to met her hubby nearer the food area so they can gather some things for perhaps a small get-together once folks are free. Or perhaps she'll do some summery nibbles and see whoms interest she can perk up.

Her own ears do however when she catches sight of the semi-familiar yet different fellow. "Well ello there laddie and ah.." She murmurs warmly and then furrows her brow in slight thought. "I believe so.. " She murmurs glancing about and subtlety scenting the air for any signs of such. It wasn't uncommon for things to move about in a myriad of ways. Her left hand resting on her rounded belly out of habit now.

As she's also half trying not to let her motherly instincts take over and try and fuss over him. Though her more logical healer side is murmuring to be patient. There's nothing pushy about wanting to perhaps walk with him a bit? Now was there? "We could look a bit together if ya like." She warmly and gently offers.

[shieldborne]

He remembers her! Remembers her well enough to do a double-take at that obvious pregnancy. For a moment his brain wonders jesus, how long was I gone?, but the answer is well over a year, and he's met her husband, so it's really not that shocking.

"Hey, Ash," he greets, awkward because whether she'll recognize him like this or not, he has no idea. "Uh...yeah, okay. We can walk together."

Because naturally, his Steve-brain is telling him to be protective of the pregnant lady. They're going to be fussing over each other at that rate.

[stark_ravingmad]

Tony just stopped in his tracks when he saw Steve, or what looked like Steve, since he was much smaller since the last time he saw him. Had he....shrank? Oh. Was this another version of Steve Rogers that he hadn't met yet? A distinct possibility with all the timeline fun going on around here. Smiling to himself, he approached this version of his friend, trying not to stare too much. Had he even met Tony yet in his timeline? This was pre-capsicle Cap, right?

"Hey, uh--probably? I don't really know to be honest but you're Steve Rogers and you're smaller than I remember. Not in a bad way, don't get me wrong just---the arms and the chest. Woah. Just so different."

The engineer knew he wasn't being much help but he couldn't help but realise just how small Steve was. Less of the hulking muscle and more of the weedy kid. But hey, whatever. Steve was Steve and Tony was his buddy. No picking on the little kid here. It was amusing but he wasn't about to turn into the playground bully here.

"Sorry, it's just I know another version of you back home."

[shieldborne]

If it helps any, Tony, Steve is staring back with equal surprise. Like when Stark first encountered Thor here, though, there's a lot of emotion blended there. Grief, not quite healed, and a healthy serving of guilt along with it.

Just as well, then, that Tony begins by pointing out the obvious in a way that makes Steve want to facepalm. Yeah, and you're a lot more alive than I remember is what he almost, ALMOST says, but doesn't. Instead, he huffs out a laugh, shakes his head, and rubs the back of his neck, taking a moment to gather his thoughts.

"Uh...yeah. Some things happened. Hi, Tony. What year is it where you're coming from?"

He pauses for half a second, then gives in to the impulse in his head and gives the man a brief, fierce hug, thumping him on the back. "It's good to see you."

[angelic_asshole]

Did someone mention an arts and crafts store? Because Seth is currently making his way through the Plaza area carrying a rather large easel and a canvas underneath his arm. It is then he spots the stranger and hears his question. Peeking his curiosity the explorer offered a polite smile and walked over towards the other man.

"Oh, there is a good one just past that building over there. I'm not sure about one that used to be here before since I'm unsure about that. You look a little lost, dear fellow."

Steve should be able to pick out this man's Victorian garb and refined English accent. Seth was an English gentleman to most who knew him and was an artist and explorer by trade. The question was something he just couldn't pass up on. He is on his own today; his angel somewhere else, no doubt getting up to mischief as usual.

[shieldborne]

Aha! Now that looks like someone who knows what Steve's talking about. He perks visibly, getting up even before being spoken to, out of pure professional interest. It's a prepped canvas, for sure, and that probably means acrylics or oils--

"Not lost, exactly, but it's been a while since I was here," he admits. "Are you out working en plein air today? What's your medium?"

It's highly unusual to get Steve diverted enough from a goal to act excited about something. Enjoy the moment, Seth.

[sharktoothtotem]

"Man if there is one I haven't found it yet. Would like to get another sketchbook instead of filling my journal with sketches." Taylor's dressed in dark cargo pants, and a black cropped tank with her blue bracer on her right arm, more out of habit. There's tell-tale smudges though, someone may have been sitting on this side of the field sketching the wilds earlier.

Her sketching isn't finished if you go by the pencil keeping her hair in a twisted knot.

"Whatcha looking for though? Might be able to point ya in the right direction of a substitute."

[shieldborne]

"There was one, a couple years ago," he says with a sigh. "But I know this place isn't exactly the most stable. Do you have a preference for sketching paper? I might be able to give you a few sheets if we can't find the place."

There is a certain camaraderie among artists, after all. Or, at least in Steve's experience, the ones who create for love of the art itself are usually happy to share tips and supplies.

"I'm looking for oil paints. Studio quality, preferably, although at this point I'd take whatever I can find," he says.

limited icons so let's imagine that's a metaphorical paint gun

[handsofwinter]

A little further along the fountain there's a subtle sound, like an electric fizz, easily lost in the splash of water. Less easy to miss is the string of curious clicks from the blue-clad Eliksni who's appeared, perched on the fountain's edge a few feet away, lower arms hanging past his knees as he peers over his shoulder. There's a glowing white slit where his helm should have eye-ports, and it's trained firmly on Steve.

"What... crafts... do you seek?" he asks, the human word picked out carefully, as if the phonemes don't sit quite right. Or as if he's unsure of the connotations in play.

[shieldborne]

WHAT the--!! The fizzing sound escapes Steve completely, but the clicks do not, and he knows the Eliksni that appears in his view was not visible a second ago. Jesus, any closer and he'd have sat right in the guy's lap.

It absolutely doesn't help that he knows at a glance what species this is, and that the last he heard, they were barely on friendly terms. Should this guy even be in the Plaza? Steve looks around at other passersby as if to check whether anyone else is seeing this, but when no one has a more extreme reaction than swerving to give the fountain a few steps wider berth, he gives up.

If the Eliksni only knew Steve better, he would recognize the is this a test? expression. "Uh...painting. Art. On canvas? Do you guys...do that kind of thing?"

He's not sure he's thrilled with this, but it's not the place to pick a fight. For all he knows this particular Eliksni wasn't even here for the Winter storm, and in any case he asked a perfectly civil question. It's just a surreal moment all around.

[lets_play_pounce]

The kelde (human) intrigues Keeta, who is actually on the way to the crafts place herself, looking for something to keep the Di Lucca cubs occupied. This little Familiar may look eleven, but she's a few centuries old and one of the best little babysitters one could wish to find.

“It's not far,” she tells him.

She appraises the young male, who doesn't look terribly fit or strong, but once upon a time, Keeta stood at her Rah'sool's side in the Hell War, so she can sort of spot a military bearing. Sort of.

The kelde doesn't look like a warrior though. “I'm going there too. You can come with me, if you like?”

[shieldborne]

Steve has no supernatural senses, and at this point in his life, his natural senses are a little sub-par, so she immediately reads as a kid to him. One that seems unusually posed and confident, but one who might be a little young to be alone in the Nexus. He looks around at once for a parent, concerned.

"Uh...sure." His gaze returns to her after a moment, because there doesn't appear to be anyone waiting in the wings for her.

"Yeah, sorry. Thanks, I appreciate the help. I haven't been here in a while. Everything looks different."

Bigger. Everything looks bigger. He sighs and gets up off the stone where he's sitting. "You looking for something specific? I'm after some oil paints."

[chiron_survivor]

The only reason Adia recognizes Steve so quickly is because the Steve she knows (knew, she reminds herself), used to look just like this. That's how she first met and befriended him, in fact. But she still has to stop a moment and catch her breath because it's been a long while, and so much has happened since then.

It can't be the Steve she knows. Knew. And it can't be his alternate, he also had been transformed by the super soldier serum. So this man must be a completely new Steve. That... that she can handle. Right?

"Um... there used to be," she answers, approaching Steve with a shy, but friendly smile. "But it moved. There are several new art studios a couple streets over, so... well, sometimes if there's a need for a shop somewhere else, it just sort of ends up there."

[shieldborne]

Adia was one of the first people Steve met in the Nexus, and he still remembers the confusion, the shyness, and the Pokemon that was initially named after his best friend. He gives her a wry smile, apologetic in advance. This probably won't be as much of a shock as seeing her dead friend resurrected was, but it's gonna be awkward.

"Oh?" New art studios are good! He perks up a little, subtly. "And here I was hoping I wouldn't have competition."

That's a joke. In a hub of the multiverse, having no other artists would be weird.

"Can you, um, point me the right way?" He pauses and scratches his head. "Um. Hi, Adia. I'm the one that's not on the Welcome video--"

Obviously. "But I've been through some changes, too."

[ginger_firebird]

Mantis can't help but feel a bit bad for the man as he walks along. There's a lot going on with him all at once, and he knows the clinically ill when he sees them. The question, however, makes him smile a little.

"I know where it is. I go there all the time with my pet and my pokemon."

[shieldborne]

Hey, someone as skinny as he is! Taller, though. But in this place of gods and angels and superhumans, Steve will take what he can get.

"Thanks, pal. You mind giving me directions, too?"

[tieflingtarot]

"No clue!" Molly pipes up from where he's already perched, legs kicked out in front of him, tail swaying this way and that, occasionally flicking up water from the fountain, face tilted up as if he was just soaking up the sun like a flower might before he was turning his gaze to peer at the stranger with a cheery smile.

"We could go looking for it. I could use a trawl through a art shop anyways."

[shieldborne]

An unusual-looking person, to say the least, but Steve is getting used to that after so much time in the Nexus. Actually, there's a moment where he blinks at him, but after that his eyes linger on the tattoos. They're really beautiful. People have asked him whether he'd be interested in designing tattoo flash, before. Maybe...

Well. He'll think about that later.

"That's friendly," he says, and smiles in spite of the pain in his back and feet. "I'll take you up on it. Are you an artist?"