Steve Rogers / Captain America (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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abraxaslogs2024-01-19 11:02 am
assembles) wrote in abraxaslogs2024-01-19 11:02 am
Entry tags:
closed | failing the weeping bell, know it very well
Who: Steve Rogers & The Doctor
When: January
Where: Libertas
What: Quest; "Condolence Letters"
Warnings: Talk of death, loss, grief, etc.
[ For all that part of being a soldier, particularly a highly-ranked one, involves writing condolence letters informing a family of a subordinate's death, or even personally delivering the news, Steve hasn't had to do much of it. He was the one who was lost for seventy years, encased in ice, and it's not like there had been any family to report to on him anyway.
Then there was Pietro, but all he'd had was Wanda, and she'd been among them when it happened. Then Natasha, who hadn't had any family to report to — her sister already dust at the time, and then Steve himself was gone, though his memories don't even extend that far. And Tony? Well, Pepper was right there, for better or worse.
Still, he's up to the task, grim as it might be. Someone has to do it.
A lot of people died in the pit. This is only one, and Steve didn't even meet him back then. Chances are that he died in one of those pods, not even standing a chance as the plant's digestive acids did their worst.
They have a letter, which won't be much of a consolation, and a few personal effects — a pocketwatch, broken and dirtied, chief among them.
The streets of Libertas feel somber again as he and the Doctor take to this task, and despite all their talk of hope, there isn't much to be felt right now. As they reach the poorer side of the city, there are a lot more notably dilapidated buildings, or even empty lots. Of course this area wouldn't have recovered as well from the Thorne attack all those months ago. ]
... We should be getting close. [ He scrutinizes the marked-up map in his hand one more time, then glances to the Doctor. ] You ready for this?
When: January
Where: Libertas
What: Quest; "Condolence Letters"
Warnings: Talk of death, loss, grief, etc.
[ For all that part of being a soldier, particularly a highly-ranked one, involves writing condolence letters informing a family of a subordinate's death, or even personally delivering the news, Steve hasn't had to do much of it. He was the one who was lost for seventy years, encased in ice, and it's not like there had been any family to report to on him anyway.
Then there was Pietro, but all he'd had was Wanda, and she'd been among them when it happened. Then Natasha, who hadn't had any family to report to — her sister already dust at the time, and then Steve himself was gone, though his memories don't even extend that far. And Tony? Well, Pepper was right there, for better or worse.
Still, he's up to the task, grim as it might be. Someone has to do it.
A lot of people died in the pit. This is only one, and Steve didn't even meet him back then. Chances are that he died in one of those pods, not even standing a chance as the plant's digestive acids did their worst.
They have a letter, which won't be much of a consolation, and a few personal effects — a pocketwatch, broken and dirtied, chief among them.
The streets of Libertas feel somber again as he and the Doctor take to this task, and despite all their talk of hope, there isn't much to be felt right now. As they reach the poorer side of the city, there are a lot more notably dilapidated buildings, or even empty lots. Of course this area wouldn't have recovered as well from the Thorne attack all those months ago. ]
... We should be getting close. [ He scrutinizes the marked-up map in his hand one more time, then glances to the Doctor. ] You ready for this?
no subject
[ Not for the first time, and certainly not the last, the Doctor laments the lack of his sonic screwdriver. It's not that there's necessarily anything profound or unusual on this hauntingly quiet street holding the remnants of so much tragedy. Pain is pain. There's no deeper mystery to this, but that particular tool of his is so multipurpose, he'd find a use for it, a directional guide, a means to study their surroundings further.
As it is, he's continuing to adapt in the stifling confines of this place with all of its frustratingly linear progression of time.
At Steve's question, the Doctor does a quick spin around in place, a complete circle, going from one direction to the next in a smooth motion. He holds one hand out and where he stops, he points. Up ahead, just a few blocks, is a house. Not the house they're looking for, but there might be answers, at least. ]
There! Bound to be something. Something is always better than nothing. It's one less closed door.
[ When they make it there, the Doctor bounds up close to the door, knocking eagerly. He'd be more somber if he knew this was actually the family they were confronting, but as it's not, this is just a chance to meet someone new and he always loves that. Except the moment the door is opened and the Doctor smiles cheerfully, offering, "Hello! I'm the Doctor and this is my friend —" the door is instantly closed. ]
Amendment to what I said before — one less less closed door, obviously. Well, there's bound to be someone!
no subject
Still, if nothing else he makes a mental note that this part of the city has received little care when it comes to cleaning up the debris and that it might be a good idea to let the authorities know that more work has to be done here.
One task at a time. The Doctor has found a potential place for them to ask around, and Steve follows after him, at first not all that bothered to just let the more exuberant of them take point.
But, well, they both see how that turns out. When the Doctor turns back toward him, Steve manages to hold back on a sigh. ]
You may have come on a little strong.
[ Still, there are other homes still standing in the area, and so Steve decides all they can do is move onto the next one. He doesn't want to bother people more than is necessary, and whoever answered the Doctor clearly hadn't been interested in talking about much of anything.
With this next house, Steve steps up to the door first and knocks, then waits patiently until a middle-aged woman opens it. She glances between the two of them, wary, but also peers back at Steve with a hint of recognition. ]
Hello, miss. [ His expression and tone are somber, yet polite. ] I'm sorry to bother you, it's just... we're looking for whoever used to live at this address.
[ With that, he pulls a scrap of paper from his pocket and hands it over to her. ]
It's just around the corner from here, three houses down from what I could tell. [ It's hard to gather where one lots ends and another begins with all the rubble, but he'd done his best. ]
no subject
A little strong — just a hello? [ Everything else, Doctor. But, yes, he's not always the most clued in about that. Good to have Steve along! (He supposes, if he has to admit...) ] Fine, fine, feedback noted, logged, tagged, filed away. Just have to work harder for that five stars, suppose. Taking notes!
[ He does watch and take in Steve's overall demeanor with the next house, and while the Doctor is no stranger to being soft and somber when he needs to be, he does a quick mental side-by-side comparison between the pair of them and their interactions. Okay, okay, maybe he had a point, given...where they are. He thought adding a bit of cheer might be welcomed, but in a place like this, some might prefer exactly the opposite. On the surface, his soft and more gentle expression masks the hurried mental calculations he's doing to pivot and consider that there might be an alternative way to proceed for the next time. Before he can say or do anything else, though, the woman responds — ]
If I were a different kind, I'd ask what you want 'em for at all, but it ain't my business, is it?
[ She has the air of someone who'd just as soon tell them anything at all to hurry them on their way, shrugging a little. But then she's leaning in a bit to scrutinize the paper she's been handed and there's a brief pause before she realizes exactly which family they're trying to find. Her shoulders drop a little, demeanor softening a touch more. ]
Tell you the truth, they been through enough, whatever you need to see 'em about, gotta be a blessin'. Place they got now, can't call it more than a hole built into the stone, er — whatever's left of it. Got a ceiling, couple rooms. Ain't no door, just a thick tattered drape the color of dusty yellow. Ugly as sin. Nothin' about it safe. You'll find it two blocks over, just on the corner. Three kids, two littles, oldest one works whatever job they got on order for the day. Their ma ain't around much, she can't be. No tellin' who you'll find when you get there. Just the small ones, I imagine.
[ She moves to hand the paper back to Steve now, crossing her arms loosely. ]
Answered your questions? You got somethin' for them, what about me?
no subject
To the Doctor's credit, he does seem to take Steve's note to heart and hangs behind him as he takes a stab with the next house. The woman doesn't immediately slam the door in their face, so this is already an improvement. There's definitely something to be said for bringing the right demeanor and energy level to a task like this.
While at first Steve worries that she might decide they're not worth her time all the same, the woman's expression shifts as soon as she realizes who they're asking about. Maybe she knows that this is a family that's lost more than most, then. When she explains where the people have moved to, that they don't even have a door to keep them sheltered safely at night, Steve's brow creases with concern. It's even worse than he thought, especially when it turns out that it's three kids. And, well, their mother — but it sounds like she's far too busy to watch them most of the time. ]
Thank you so much for your time, and for all the information. It's good to know that people around here keep an eye out for them. [ This woman must do that, or how would she know so much? Steve bows his head to her in thanks.
He takes the paper back from her, then heaves out a long sigh when she asks what this is all about. ]
We have a letter of condolence for them, along with a few items found in the place where their family member was taken. Err, by those cultists almost a year back.
[ He can only imagine she's already heard all about it. An easily forgotten corner of Libertas like this is precisely where people would have been grabbed.
Steve fixes her with a sympathetic stare. Even if she wasn't directly affected, she still would have seen how the families around her had their lives ruined by Josselyn and her underlings. ] I sincerely hope you didn't also lose someone, but if you have, there will probably be another pair of people along to see you soon.
no subject
Ain't me this time. No one to lose. Can't blame me hopin' you mighta had an inheritance to tell me about from a dead relative I never met, though.
[ At least, she doesn't think so. And it's possible she may or may not stop in on the kids to check on them an awful lot, but it's not something she bothers to confirm or deny out loud. It is what it is. No one's coming to help them.
The Doctor is suitably impressed with Steve's countenance through the whole exchange, though. He's kind, respectful, quick to put someone at ease. Just the sort you'd be okay with hearing anything at all from, even if it's terrible. He just wishes it wasn't so terrible now. He chimes in to echo Steve's words. ]
We're grateful, thank you. Can I have your name?
[ She quickly frowns, thrown off guard. To be fair to her, he doesn't frame it perhaps the best way, almost intrusive in his delivery. Her response is to recoil a bit and say, My name? Why? Ain't important. The Doctor seems unconcerned by her reaction and doesn't miss a beat, Your name is who you are and who you are is important, but I don't actually need it, I suppose. I'll remember you anyway. The kind woman in the house with a crooked door who looks after the children two blocks away. Carry on, eh? Please. Do take care.
With that, the Doctor gives a little nod and smile and starts to turn to go, already ten steps away in his mind, if not actually physically that far away. Once they start walking and they're alone, the Doctor speaks out loud, loud enough for Steve to hear, but not actually to Steve, more like a verbal note out loud to himself. ]
Two hundred and thirty steps from the portal. No-Name with a crooked door and no window.
[ He'd been able to see on the other side of her house that her back window was missing, boarded up but not very well. It's a reminder to himself to come back and check on her, fix up the door and the window when he can. Then, as though he hasn't actually said any of it out loud at all, he turns to look and remark to Steve — ]
Everything that happened there in the pit, and here — [ He looks around at the tattered buildings and then back to Steve. ] You lived through all of it.
no subject
She looks perplexed by the Doctor's odd response, and Steve sends her a sheepish smile and thanks her again with a bow of his head before they head off to continue their task.
When the Doctor speaks up, it's clear that he isn't really addressing Steve so much as making a mental note. Steve glances over at him all the same, about to ask if he plans to do something for her, but then the Doctor beats him to the punch, with a sort of implied question.
He can't help but study the buildings around them too, all of them in various levels of disarray. It always feels like there's more to be done, and never enough free hands. He could make more of an effort, he knows. It's sometimes too easy to forget about the state of things in Libertas when they're all living in Cadens. ]
That, yeah, and also the fire-bombing that hit Libertas even before that. [ The first part of the one-two punch. ] These people have been through so much. There has to be more that can be done for them. [ A consolation letter and some effects from a dead loved one just doesn't feel like enough.
About twenty paces ahead, he sees the dusty yellow drape that's meant to be a door, just as the woman described. He halts to turn toward the Doctor before he can race ahead. ] How are you with kids?
no subject
He does intend to return back here and help the woman if he can. Not just her, but others. He likes to keep busy, after all, and helping is what he does. Feeling largely helpless at affecting the world around them (and quite annoyed by that fact, as a result), he can at least do something on a smaller level to make things a bit better here. Perhaps. ]
There's always more that can be done. It never really stops, anywhere at all. We should come back here later, I think. Fix things up a bit.
[ Here, again, he's just a little...off. Simply inviting Steve along as though the other man would naturally want to join in. The Doctor wouldn't mind if he backed out of it, of course, considering he didn't even ask.
Once they arrive, though, the Doctor squares himself a bit. The expression on his face is soft; not a smile, no, it's not the time for it. There's a wistfulness, though, a longing for things long gone, a life he'll never know again (hasn't known for so long), with children and grandchildren. ]
Children? Oh, they're grand. I love them. Always have. Shall I lead the way?
no subject
We should. To say nothing of pressing the Libertas government to get involved.
[ The government should have more in the way of resources than just the two of them, and it's ultimately far more their responsibility than that of two Summoned.
Though that thought isn't going to stop Steve from helping all the same. Assuming it's someone else's problem is a trap that's all too easy to fall into.
Steve doesn't miss the look on the Doctor's face, and remembers how he hadn't quite been willing to talk much of his granddaughter. Now isn't the time to investigate that, though. ]
Yeah, you take point.
[ While the Doctor had fumbled a bit with the adults, Steve gets the feeling he'll do a lot better with kids. He's just a couple steps behind him as they approach the yellow curtain, though.
When it's swept aside, it's as the woman described, a small room with four walls and little else. There's a pile of blankets in one corner, a rickety wooden table in the center of the room, and two children sit playing a game not unlike jacks, from a first glance.
The slightly older one peers at them, eyes wide with uncertainty and fear.
"W-what do you want?" ]
no subject
You might say I'm not always subtle when people aren't being looked after.
[ It's a level of self-awareness he doesn't always have, nor fully embrace, but he is also always the first to be quite aware of his failings. He is trying his best to abide by some of the rules here, painful as that is for him when he'd far prefer being the loudest in the room and pressuring all of them to come to some sort of sense about all of this.
Steve is saved from more of the Doctor's rambling, though, as they approach the home, in disrepair as it is. His hearts soften more measurably at the sight of the children, and he's quick to (hopefully) mitigate any concern.
There's a soft, gentle smile on his face, more subdued, intended to dispel worry at the sight of two strangers suddenly appearing at their home. ]
Hello there, I'm the Doctor. This is my very good friend, Steve. We were sent here to help a bit if we can. Is your mother about, or might be soon?
[ It sounded as though she might be working quite a lot, based on what that neighbor had shared. ]