closed | failing the weeping bell, know it very well

[assembles]

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?

Comments

[assembles]

[ Perhaps some people might find it presumptuous the way that the Doctor signs him up for coming back to help without even asking, but Steve doesn't mind at all. To be honest, it's the sort of thing he could see himself doing, because he has the same instinct to help whenever and however he can. ]

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?" ]

[thedreamer]

I'm a good presser! That was my nickname, actually, they called me the presser when I was knocking 'round with the Butterfly Coterie on Stellarax Five. They were trying to — actually, it wasn't presser, come to think of it. What was that word? Oh no, it wasn't about me at all, it was — never mind, though things turned out alright for them in the end, if you were worried. Point is, I don't particularly mind pressing anyone in power to do better. When things need doing sometimes though, well, it's hard to ignore it.

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. ]