Steve Rogers (
droptheshield) wrote in
deerington2021-03-10 11:39 am
The implications of diving in too deep | OTA
Who: Steve Rogers
droptheshield & others
What: March catch-all
When: throughout March
Where: Around town
Content Warnings: None at this time; individual threads marked as needed
Starts listed below as made
What: March catch-all
When: throughout March
Where: Around town
Content Warnings: None at this time; individual threads marked as needed
Starts listed below as made

March 10 | [CLOSED TO BUCKY BARNES]
Bucky has been around, much more than he was. Steve appreciates that. He doesn't want to keep Bucky, but he needs to keep an eye on him. He's not a spy, like Bucky or Natasha, so having Bucky let himself in and out of the space just feels right.
Based off his best estimations of the date, today is Bucky's birthday. He's not sure where Bucky is at the moment, but he's fairly certain that Bucky's going to come back, and he's left a note at his flat just in case, to let him know, as well as a couple other places he knows that Bucky might frequent around town. And, back at his own place, Steve intends to try and make dinner to celebrate.
no subject
He doesn't manage it every night, and there's no possible way that he would classify himself as living in that apartment, but... he finds himself gravitating back there one night out of three. It's still awkward around Steve, and he doesn't talk much, yet the silence is becoming easier between them. Perhaps he's starting to see a way that they could remain in contact. Perhaps.
The smell of something cooking is what greets him when he slips in the window this time, and he eyes Steve's back curiously.
"You haven't cooked before?"
Not that he's noticed, anyway. So what's different today?
no subject
Steve doesn't look away from the stove, like if he does, something might happen that will ruin what is clearly already something not going entirely to plan. He does glance away at a book for a moment, and then back, frowning deeply.
"Yeah, well, I wanted to. I thought it'd be nice." He's quiet for a second. It's one of those strange, liminal things. Does he mention the root reason and risk upsetting Bucky if he hadn't remembered, or does he leave it alone and pretend it was just spur of the moment and risk it being awkward? "Baking too."
no subject
Instead, he steps up closer behind Steve, to almost within touching distance, to peer over his shoulder at whatever the hell that was supposed to be on the stove.
"Why?"
Because it sure as hell doesn't look like it was for fun, or because the other man had any talent for it.
no subject
"It's your birthday," he says. "Pretty sure I did the days right, since I've got here. Since you got here too. Anyway..."
He shrugged a little bit. "I thought I'd give it a shot."
no subject
Of all the responses he might have been expecting, that really wasn't one of them. He does know when his birthday is, he found out thanks to the exhibit about him at the Smithsonian, but he hasn't thought about it since. A birthday, out of all the other information, seemed petty and insignificant.
"I guess it is." Weird. "I don't know how old I am now."
He knows his birthdate, obviously, but he doesn't know how many times he went in and out of cryofreeze since he fell from the train. He could be anywhere between thirty and forty, he guesses, but where exactly his age falls is anyone's guess.
"You didn't have to do this, I didn't-- I didn't remember."
no subject
He looked back down at the pot and snorted a little bit. Alright, this round was shot. He turned it off and set the pot aside.
"I suppose I can get take away instead," he said, only a bit dejectedly. "But the cake should be done soon, and it's looking about how my ma used to make it? So at least it's not a total wash for a homemade meal."
no subject
A birthday is such a normal human thing, it's proof that he was born instead of made, that he had a whole life as a person. That Steve would remember and, further, try to celebrate that, has his chest tight in a very unusual way.
To avoid having to examine that about himself, he instead leans over and dips a finger into the pot to taste whatever concoction had been inside.
"It's fine. You don't waste food because it's a bit burned, Steve, that's wasteful."
no subject
But Steve was smiling a little bit and, as he spoke, a little timer went off on the counter and he stepped slightly away to look into the oven. From it, he pulled out a simple brown cake which looked to have been made much more successfully than the contents of the pot.
"And we have plenty of time for the cake to cool down, too. So you can tell me how bad the potatoes are so I can try something else."
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
3/whenever, day, apartments
The address James gave him turned out to be one helluva hike from Shepherd street -- most of the day, in fact! But perhaps that's for the best: If he has too much time on his hands, he'll get antsy, and if he gets antsy, he's likely to start wandering into trouble.
Still, Manabu triple-checks his notepad as he stands in front of the door (thank goodness this is on the first floor! the size of the building is kind of much, compared to the rest of the town...), chewing on his lip in thought.
...Well...it's not like the second the door opens, James' metal fist is gonna pop out and deck him, right?
Manabu exhales, then knocks, stepping back and straightening up.
no subject
Bucky is out, and Steve lets himself stew over something having happened to him for the briefest of moments. It's just the amount of time it takes him to cross from the kitchen to the front door, and to look outside.
He doesn't recognize the person on the other side.
Slowly, Steve opens the door, curious and a little concerned. "Hello? Can I help you?"
no subject
All this to say: He isn't a stranger to knocking on doors of new addresses. However, this isn't a delivery, and so...there's a weird kind of unease in him that puts his state of mind as close to an anxious, soliciting Boy Scout than he'd had in years.
Also, he's kind of braced for maybe getting manhandled and yelled at for showing up at all.
That doesn't appear to happen, so the wince is very brief, replaced by genuine surprise. That's not James at all!
"Oh--" He can't help but exclaim, but quickly recover. "I--hello! Pardon me. I was told to stop by this place, by, uh...by James.
"You must be Steve?"
Probably. Hard to tell without the helmet or war noises in the background.
no subject
"Uh, yeah. Yeah. Can I help you with something?"
no subject
But that makes it sound like James is his boss. Not true!
"That's fine, though! He said you're a good guy, and it's a good idea to know as many of that sort as you can...especially here. And in any case, I mean to try and help out as much as I can! So if you find yourself in a pinch, you have one more person you can call on."
Yes, Steve. Call the 5'7" guy who still looks built like a teenager in a pinch.
no subject
"You wanna come inside? James isn't here right now."
no subject
"I, ah--if you...don't actually mind, sure. But--I wasn't...interrupting anything important, was I?"
no subject
It might have been a poor idea, letting a stranger in. But he was also pretty sure that he could manage whatever the threat might be. And, anyway, if Bucky seemed to think that this guy was trustworthy enough to tell him to seek him out, than Steve figured that he wasn't too bad.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
Late Feb/Early March, around town | [CLOSED TO DAISY] - cw: mangled bodies/mutilation
This is how he finds the first body, just outside the city limits. Out for a run, and Steve comes across what was once a body, and his stomach turns a little bit. He's not entirely sure what to think. By the time he has the good sense to head back into town to go to Hart Mart and purchase a shovel and head back to the body, it's gone. All he can hope is someone else had the same idea.
So he keeps moving, now with the shovel in tow. Just in case.
no subject
She's adjusting her gauntlets when she spots Steve heading in her direction. With a shovel?]
Steve?
[Does he remember her?]
no subject
"Hi. Daisy, right?" He put the shovel up against his shoulder, holding it casually. Like it isn't totally strange that he has it. "Sorry, I didn't even look you up after I got down from that hotel after January. It's been a weird month."
no subject
Everything.
[Daisy's eyes drift towards the shovel again.]
What's going on? What's with--?
[She nods in the direction of the shovel. Does she even want to know?]
no subject
"I found a body in the woods while I was out looking around," he said. "And I figured I should...deal with it, but by the time I got the shovel and got back to it, it was gone."
no subject
He has no idea how death works around here, does he?
Licking her lower lip before biting it, Daisy wraps her arms around herself in a clear sign of being uncomfortable.]
Yeah, uh, that happens here. When someone dies, their body fades away.
[Better than rotting away, right?]
They'll be back in seven days.
no subject
It was weird to say, if he was honest. Not that he was dismissive of the idea that no one was lost, or that the bodies were, for lack of a better term, taken care of. But the whole thing smacked of so many things that he had no control over, and it made him think off that horrible funeral he'd gone to for himself where he'd turned into that ghoulish version of himself.
Were any of them really gone? Or just slowly wasting away?
no subject
[She doesn't disagree with him though, and having gone through it herself, the recovery sucks.]
How are you doing?
[He may not remember their friendship, but that doesn't make Daisy any less concerned about his well-being.]
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)