multiversallogs | [pounding on the door; open]

Who: Steve Rogers and anyone at the Inn.
What: Cap arrives!
Where: The arrival rooms, the Valhalla Inn.
When: afternoon into evening--I'm being flexible with time so many people can play :D
Notes: In-person log because shhhh learning a CiD is hard when you're from 1945.
Warnings: Potential for lots of aw-shucks behavior. Also eyelashes, stand back.

The frozen white ground looms up closer and closer, faster and faster. The drone of the engine has sharpened into a protesting whine, nearly drowning out the sound of Peggy’s voice in the cabin. He knows this is it, that he has mere seconds.

He’s as brave as ever, playing it up for her sake. “We’ll get the band to play something slow,” he calls out to her. “And then maybe I won’t step on your feet.”

He has no way to know those last few words were cut off, no way to know she can’t hear him any longer and she’s already calling his name into her microphone, frantic with worry and grief. All he can see out of the plane’s broken windscreens is the ground now. I’m sorry, he mouths, without really knowing who he’s addressing; before he can figure it out, the plane’s nose impacts, sending him flying forward.

He’s braced for pain, for the scrape of metal and ice over his suit and skin, for bones crunching as the hard ice stops his momentum. He slides, but it’s… odd. It’s not the slick movement of a body over ice or the tearing of his body over broken metal. It’s like skidding on a floor.

He stops with a gentle thump. Far too gentle. When he sits up he’s no longer in the plane but not out on the frozen tundra, either. He’s in a room. It’s green. His shield is propped against a table; he slings it across his back and then he studies the pamphlet he finds on the table. Twice. Carefully.

He looks over the device—a CiD?—and he pockets that. Yes, he could call for help, but he’d need time to study the device and learn what to do, and there’s a more direct way, at least he thinks so.

“Hello?”

Anyone in the vicinity of the arrival rooms will hear a thumping from behind one of the doors, and a man’s voice, calling out politely.

“Hello? Is anyone out there? Could someone open the door, please?”

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Almost before he's finished that sentence, the door swings open, and there Ruby is, tucking her hair behind her ear and schooling her expression to be calm in a reassuring kind of way. She's not one of the people inclined to panic if kept in a small space, and Steve doesn't seem graced with that unhappy psychological quirk, either, but that doesn't mean being trapped in there is lacking in stress.

"On it," she says, with a brief little crooked smile. "I'm sorry you were in there so long--most of us new arrivals aren't."

Edited 2011-08-24 19:06 (UTC)

"Thank you. I sure appreciate that."

He steps out into the hall, quickly scanning the area--seems safe enough. "I guess I could've called? The CiD. It just seemed more direct to knock on the door."

Also he figured it'd take him a lot longer to figure out how to work the device than it would to just ask for help.

"Well, whatever works, I say." As long as it does the trick. She steps back to give him his space, a little bemused by the uniform, but--look, it's not that different, especially here. Furthermore, Ruby's not one to openly gape at anyone.

"So...this is Baedal." She glances over her shoulder at the Inn, as though taking a measure of their surroundings, and then back up at Steve. "One building in it, anyway."

He closes the door carefully behind them, just in case--maybe the next guy who appears won't be a nice guy like he is. "Baedal," he repeats. "The brochure made it sound like it's a big city, is it?"

And then he makes a bit of a face. Manners, Steve. "And I'm Captain Steve Rogers."

"Very big," she confirms. "Smaller than London, but there are definitely a couple million people here. Not all of them are human."

That is sort of a warning; if he's not accustomed to Xenians, it's better to find out about them beforehand so there are no awkward incidents. Ruby smiles at the introductions, inclining her head. "It's good to meet you, Captain, even if the circumstances are--less than ideal. I'm Ruby Van Alst."

"Smaller than New York, then, too." Even back in his time New York was a sprawling city, teeming with millions.

Steve hasn't personally met any non-humans in his time but he's been aware of the possibility. Goodness knows he's seen enough, in the war, that non-humans don't beg that much more of his imagination. And honestly it's less their literal humanity that would be a concern, than the figurative, whatever they'd call that quality where they're from--their decency, their sense of fair play, and so on. If they're good guys, he's got no problem, wherever they come from.

"Hello, Ruby. You been here very long?"

She shakes her head, nimbly moving to step away from another passerby as they walk through the Inn halls -- this is a more crowded place than it used to be, with its new arrivals, and sooner or later (probably sooner) you'll run into a lot of strangers. Ruby doesn't mind that aspect, but she's still discomfited by what she's heard about the Inn and the Militia. Part of her feels kind of bad, because she doesn't think the Inn staff enjoys or is complicit in that, but its popularity for the recently abducted means it's probably always going to be the first to get ransacked by the local armed forces.

She wonders if she should say something--no, she definitely will have to, it's wrong not to tell people, but it's a matter of timing it and making sure there are no eavesdroppers.

"Not very. Long enough to learn a thing or two, but I still feel like the new kid." She considers the steps to the lower level of the Inn. "Do you want to have a look outside, just to see what it's like?"

Edited 2011-08-28 22:34 (UTC)

"No, I'm the new kid, now." He smiles, trying to be reassuring. And he too sidesteps another passerby, coming too close to clipping them with his shield for his comfort. He calls out an apology and moves to catch up with Ruby.

"Sure, I'd like to, if that's no trouble to you."

"Right this way, then, fellow new kid." She smiles right back over her shoulder, heading for the steps. Ruby will wait until they're outside to speak about the Militia, she decides--and she'll have to rely on her senses, slightly enhanced as they are, to tell her if anyone's listening.

She doesn't know when she got this paranoid or if she should be mildly concerned about how easily she's taken to it, but...Ruby supposes extradimensional adventuring isn't supposed to be simple. Or anything less than dangerous.

He follows her down the stairs, one hand reaching behind for the rim of his shield, to hold it in place--he doesn't want it accidentally hitting one of the walls, marking the place up or anything.

"Where are you from, if you don't mind me asking?" Polite conversation, he can do that sometimes.

"Me? Just a little town in Minnesota," Ruby says, glancing over her shoulder. A second too late, she realizes that she told Seoraj something else (Kansas, specifically)--but it's a lie she decides she can excuse--her mother does live in Duluth now, and is in the process of renting-to-own a small house--if it comes up.

"Which sounds painfully normal compared to some people here, but I don't mind." They reach the door to the street out of the Inn. "What about you?"

"I was kind of all over Europe, fighting in the war," he explains. "But before that it wasn't anything spectacular. I'm from Brooklyn, born and raised. Guess I'd be in the 'pretty normal' camp too."

Except for, you know, the whole super-soldier thing. It's partly that he doesn't feel the need to explain--it's a lot to get into, and really not pertinent. But more than that, it's become such a big part of who he is that he doesn't even think about it, really.

[pounding on the door; open]

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