thecapitol | [Open] Sometimes with turbulence

Entry tags:

[Open] Sometimes with turbulence

Who| Steve & Anyone
What| It's been a crazy couple of weeks.
Where| A little bit of everywhere
When| After Cruentus' announcement, but also backdating welcome.
Warnings/Notes| There will be mention of: Arena Death, the District 3 Tragedy, and the Abuse of a Punching Bag. In one tag, which will be marked, there will be mentions of Nazis and the Holocaust.
You can date anything as far back as two weeks ago when Steve got out of the arena, but for time reference: The Training Center is Anytime Post District Three Announcement and the Speakeasy is Anytime Post Quarantine.

1. Roof:

[Up here on the roof, the air feels fresher. Away from everything, up here it feels like a small escape, even if he never can. His mind is always going over plans and ideas for how to take this place down, going over maps Lonestar shared and ideas for communication - especially after learning about the chip and it's upgrade.

All of it being thought out as his hand flies across the paper sketching - people, places, memories, the plant to his left, nothing anyone could look at and see any of his thoughts. If anyone is up here too long with him, he'll end up sketching them too.

But even if he's drawing or looking out at the city on thought or reading, Steve looks up when people come too near and acknowledges them with a nod.]

2. Training Center:

[It isn't as if he thinks his slight change in routine will go unnoticed, how after what happened to District Three he could be found down in the training center more often, but he keeps what he does down here varied. Hopefully to keep them thrown off to precisely his reasons for being down here more often.

Working at multiple stations, using them to practice skills and to gain new ones. Not just things like making a fire or fishing hook, but also his body in all aspects, especially his parkour training and stamina. Sometimes beating the snot out of a punching bag.

The frustrations of what happened and being helpless to act now is what's driving him into the routine change, but it's also to keep in shape and his mind sharp for the day he finally gets to take on the capitol.]

3. Speakeasy:

This is a good place; yeah it's useful, but more than that, it's got an atmosphere he can appreciate. A reminder of the days before blood and ice and war. Even the name feels right to him. Everywhere in the Capitol is behind enemy lines, so he'll never forget his situation or be properly comfortable, but it's nice to have that moment of memory.

So, he's not surprised to realize he's coming here whenever he feels like meeting someone. Maybe make connections, find people with similar goals against the capitol - a task too big for even him to take on alone.

He greets anyone who approaches him with a nod and if they are familiar a hello along with it. The company is welcome, he doesn't come here to be alone with his typically non-alcoholic drink.

((OOC: Prose or Brackets work fine by me! I like both.))

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Steve listens to Albert's words, feeling some shame well up in him. Sure, he'd figured it was somewhat exaggerated, but - Maybe learning about all that happened to Bucky is still too fresh, how hundreds had to die to stop Hydra again, so many years after the war. Hydra is synonymous with Nazi for him.

He overreacted and Albert suffered for it.

Whatever happens tomorrow, you must promise me one thing. That you will stay who you are, not a perfect soldier, but a good man. It feels like he failed at that just now. Supposed everyone has stumbles, but Steve feels more like he fell and broke his leg over this one.

So, for a long moment, Steve looks to the side, seeming deep in thought. It's more he's thinking how to apologize. That's not hard for him, but it's got to mean something. Sometimes just saying you're sorry doesn't cut it.

"I fought in the war. Saw countless people killed by the Nazis, my best friend even," for now he doesn't mention Bucky didn't exactly die. His tone is thoughtful but distant, as if mentioning a memory. "Sometimes I close my eyes and I'm back there, trying to fight for freedom, save people, and knowing some will slip through my fingers. It's only been two years since I was in the thick of it."

It's hard to imagine that. It's been almost 70 years for some and two for him.

He takes a deep breath before looking at Albert again, his face deeply apologetic. "I jumped to conclusions and assaulted you for it. I'm sorry."

"It's alright." It's not exactly, but Steve's so earnest he can't not forgive him, especially considering the man is apparently even older than Albert is. That's rare for him to find; even Jet is only in his eighties. And the war was terrible. What few memories he has of it, of hiding in shelters as the bombs razed Dresden over head, of suddenly his Grandfather simply disappearing one night in a whirl of Gestapo coats. He can understand the vehement reaction.

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry about your friend. I know... I know what it's like to lose people." In battle, in life. It weighs on him especially terribly after this arena, having been faced with the vision of his deceased fiancee trying to murder him. It's only fair, really. He'd gotten her killed making a run for the Wall-

Albert shakes his head, trying to just keep breathing. God, he's so tired...

"You seem a good man. I don't want to ruin what friendship we may be able to forge with a misunderstanding."

Albert is kind enough to say it's alright, but Steve doesn't believe that. Not right now, it's not alright for himself. Being the bully, even unintentionally, is something that would never sit well with Steve. No, he'll work to not let it happen again, to make it up to Albert somehow. He's not sure how, but he'll think of something.

He stops himself from waving off the apology for Bucky. It's too complicated and Bucky is still lost to that time. The man back home, the one who just arrived, is more a shell of his best friend right now. He'll never give up on Bucky, but he has the sense to admit they're pretty much strangers.

Steve sits back, facing the wall and Albert. Friendship, he feels the shame again for attacking the man like he did.

"I try, I don't always succeed," at being a good man that is. "Sounds like you've had a hell of a life and still came out better for it, I admire that. If you ever need my help, it's yours," so yes, he's amendable to being allies still.

"It's the trying that does it." Good men try to be good, bad men simply are. "And I don't know if better is right, but in a century of life it's difficult not to try and put things in perspective."

He sighs, but smiles somewhat gently at Steve's offer of help. It's a quiet, tired expression but grateful nonetheless. "Thank you. And you have mine as well. I swear to you I'm not generally so fragile as this."

It's embarrassing, really. He hasn't felt like that since he was a child save for once on Mocawa, waking up after nearly drowning with wires in his arm and some malevolent scientist looming over him. That sensation of his heart beating so hard and high in his throat as to choke him is not one he'd missed. At least as a cyborg he hadn't had to worry about that sort of reaction, all of his systems having been regulated and kept even internally.

He meets Steve's eyes, looking a little better for all his mention of weakness. "You sound as if you've had quite the life yourself, yes? You fought in the war?"

"Looking pretty good for century," the same could be said about Steve. He hadn't figured Albert was that old. Maybe he should have, the video did make it sound like he'd lived a long time, but right now he was choosing to ignore the video entirely, just learn about this man through conversation like any normal person would. No more figuring truth from Capitol videos.

"And we all have our fragile moments, even me, there's nothing wrong with it," he still has his nightmares, he still has his own brand of PTSD, it's hard not to have fragile moments after what they've both been though. It would be more concerning if they didn't.

"Yeah, joined the fight in 43 and fought til the end," Steve isn't entirely what to say about it. Anything more and it gets complicated. He's so used to people just knowing all about that time in his life, who and what he is wasn't a secret in the slightest when he came out of the ice.

Edited 2014-08-23 19:37 (UTC)

"Heh, thank you. Being frozen and outfitted with cybernetics will do that." Normally he wouldn't talk about the cybernetics, especially given that he doesn't have them anymore. It's difficult to explain and something he doesn't like to think on too much besides, but Steve would have seen it in that damn show so it's already a little to late to avoid anyway.

"This must be a change, all this advanced technology." He'd had a little trouble himself going from the 1960's and waking up in the 2000's a cyborg and that was only forty years. He can't imagine comparing the 40's to Panem's level of technological advancement.

"At least it's easy to pick up, if different."

Steve tends to not talk about himself, only a couple people know the time frame he's originally from and only one knows his real age - well, outside the people from his world or a version of it that is. He's just not big on passing on too much information about himself. Never really has been, always one to change the subject to other people or shift the topic.

But Albert is being rather open with him and Steve has already talked about himself enough, he can't see the reason to avoid it now. Besides, Albert's been frozen too, so he guesses he won't have to explain much.

"Hm, actually, not much of a change at all," his tone is a little wry. "Kind of got frozen at the end of the war, woke up 70 years in the future," he gives a little shrug, "so it's not too much of a jump for me after all that."

He said he was two years out from the war, doesn't mean the war was two years ago.

That gets Albert's eyebrow to raise. "You were frozen as well?"

"Hm. You might actually be older than me," He chuckles a little at that, the sound thin but still holding of some mirth. "That's rare."

It was well into the 2020's when he last remembers a year, though if Steve is from earlier than that Albert might still have him beaten. Not that it matters, given that they both look much younger. But Steve had said 70 years, and the war ended in 1945, plus two years... he does the math.

"Nevermind, you couldn't be over ninety." A wry grin remains on Albert's face; he's feeling much better for having someone that may possibly understand certain issues from around the same era, at least now that the record's set straight. "Still young."

Steve hums an affirmative and nods when he seems to seek confirmation that Steve also was frozen. It was a really unpleasant experience for him, he's not sure how it was for Albert, but he doesn't plan to ask.

Albert might not know him well enough to know just the level of laughter this is for Steve, but he breathes out a chuckle, something that definitely sounds like a laugh. Unlike his usual smiles and amused hums that usually replace the action.

"You flatter this old man, but your aim is a bit low, kid," he gives a grin, his tone wry. "I wasn't young when I went into the fight."

"'Kid'?" Albert snorts in amusement, that terrible feeling of a weight on his chest finally lifting enough for him to be embarrassed about having panicked at all. "I'm over a hundred years old, I think I left 'kid' behind decades ago."

He looks Steve over, the being frozen thing piquing his curiosity. Steve doesn't look like a cyborg but you never know. Most of the others didn't look it either, just him. "This is going to sound like an odd question but humor me, if you don't mind... you're not a cyborg, are you?"

Just in case Black Ghost had some kind of facility they never knew about.

"Over a hundred? Well, you don't look a day over eighty, I assure you," Steve sounds amused. The man must be from further in the future since Steve was pretty sure by his math, being born in '33 means he had fifteen years on him.

His eyebrows raise a little at the question. It's not one he expected at all and yes it is odd, but Bucky had a cybernetic arm, so he figures it's not out of left field either.

"No, I'm all flesh," he can't say he's all natural or a normal person, that'd be a lie, but he is all flesh. "Why you ask?"

That gets a small bark of a laugh from Albert. "Thank you, I appreciate that."

But for the question of being a cyborg, the laughter fades, making Albert's smile just a little more resigned. "As I mentioned, I'd been experimented on to become a cyborg before I was frozen. The remodeling didn't take as well as they'd hoped and so I was put in cryo-freeze until the technology caught up."

He shrugs as if it's no big deal. "I no longer have that body, which is an incredibly complicated story, but I just wondered if you'd been through similar considering the time periods match up rather closely."

Steve listens, nodding here and there to show he understands. Sounds a lot like Bucky, but less torture and brainwashing. Part of him really wants to ask, but he wonders if that's prying where he doesn't belong.

"No, nothing like that with me, I-" he hesitates, looking off to the side in thought. He doesn't talk about it, not really, it's not shame, but there's something about mentioning being a super soldier here that makes him hesitate. No, perhaps in a more secure setting he will, but not here.

"I wasn't supposed to survive, but I did. It was a bit of a shock to everyone," and he leaves it at that. "Was it your choice to be frozen?"

"No. I was involved in the entire zero zero cyborg project against my will. They kidnapped nine of us from around the world, four in the sixties and the other five in the 2000s once the technology had advanced enough. Thanks to a scientist on the project who had a change of heart, the first generations were unfrozen and we all escaped together."

Everyone he knew in his old life, his new family of cyborgs, even those he'd grown close with afterwards on Mocawa... and all that's left of them now is Jet. He's glad for it, for Jet still being alive and here with him, but he can't help but mourn the rest. And he understands Steve's reticence at sharing his own history. He can't fault the man for it. Hell, if things were different he would likely be just as tight lipped, but...

"Usually I don't much talk about all this, but with the Capitol spreading lies I feel as if someone besides my partner and I should know the truth."

It does sound like what Bucky went through, except his friend lacked the good fortune of people with a conscious. For people to be captured and forced into situations like this against their will, it boils Steve's blood. Even before learning about Bucky having a similar history, Steve would have been upset by it. He does believe in human decency, but more often than not, he doesn't witness it often.

"Capitol seems to have a thing about spreading lies," Steve knows now to be more careful to not believe what the Capitol says.

"Thank you," he means it, he appreciates the honesty. "And for what you and your friends went though, what you survived, I'm sorry. No one should have their basic human rights stolen from them like that."

No one. Steve wouldn't even submit his enemies to that.

"Some of it is lies, some of it is wild speculation spun as truth, but it all amounts to the same thing."

Albert's mouth twitches a bit into what could be a smile, but he's exhausted. He's only ever panicked that badly twice in his life and each time had left him feeling drained and like he could sleep for months. Compound it with reliving some very unpleasant memories and Albert's ready to simply go crawl back into bed and not come out until Jet's left the Arena at the very least.

"No, but it does happen. The best we can do is not perpetuate it ourselves." And fight back, but they're being monitored, he can't say that here, and truth be told he's not sure if he has the energy.

"That's the power of a good person," taking the bad that happened to them and trying to keep it from being inflicted on other people. The situation can cause people to become bad, to do worse than was done to them, but it marks a good person who can resist that urge.

Steve gives Albert a lingering look as he sees just how tired the man seems to be. Emotional trauma can be rough. "You look wrung out and I'm beat, maybe we should call it a night?"

Actually, he's not beat at all, but he figures it's better to not point out that he's trying to give Albert a chance to rest.

He can tell what Steve's trying to do, taking pity on him in such a way to protect what little pride he may have left. It's appreciated, even if it doesn't quell the knot of shame in the pit of Albert's stomach.

"Alright." He gets himself to his feet, using the wall to get himself there and feeling unsteady but forcing it down, making himself at least present strongly despite their both knowing its an illusion. "Thank you, for hearing me out."

Steve rises to his feet as well, not moving to help the other man, just letting him protect his pride and do it on his own. Too many years in the military taught him a man's pride is worth the struggle.

"Thank you for hearing me out too," while he doesn't plan to apologize again, his expression and tone show he's still remorseful for the error on his part and causing Albert to relive trauma. He is grateful that Albert was willing to hear him out, forgive him. He knows the other man didn't have to.

Albert shakes his head. "You just made a mistake. I can't blame you. Anyone who's sane hates the Nazis."

With a breath, Albert centers himself, looking less wobbly and not using the wall for balance. He still feels some of that lingering weight, it's still a little hard to get a full breath, but it will pass.

"I still consider us allies, despite the mistake." He smiles a little at Steve, offering his hand for a shake before he takes his leave.

It still wasn't excuse enough in Steve's book to believe the lies the Capitol wants to spread like that. He just has a low tolerance for people like the Nazis and Hydra and jumped to conclusions.

"As do I," Steve returns the smile and takes his hand, giving it a firm shake. He watches the man leave before turning to look out at the city and think for a spell.

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[Open] Sometimes with turbulence

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