[ it doesn't appear that geralt needs the help, as he's shot through the opening and lands on his feet on the other side. which is probably for the best, because steve doesn't really know if he could do much if geralt couldn't make that flip. catch him? pull him through?
he follows geralt's eyes back up through the portal before he shudders, shakes his head. he is never going to get used to the weird way that looks, no matter how many times he's gone through it. ]
It isn't usually. Or...I guess maybe it always is? I don't know, I just...actually, I don't think it matters. Let's keep moving before that goo catches up to us. [ steve doesn't really want to think about if his world has always had the upside down, if it's always been sitting right under their feet, if they've just been separated by a lack of gate and nothing else, or if he just doesn't actually know enough about it to answer geralt.
either way, he wants to keep moving, and maybe get themselves out of this place. he's had enough of this deep dive into his weird memory storage and maybe, just maybe, seeing those ghost images of the kids back home has his stomach turning uncomfortably. he wants to move, and that means wherever the gate popped them out into.
they walk, and the first thing steve notices is the cold. something sharp and crisp, instead of the damp of the tunnels. steve's eyes scan the room around them and he realizes, with no small amount of relief, he doesn't recognize any of this. which means they're either back in that weird storage container mountain, or somewhere else. the sinking feeling that it is the latter creeps up a little more with each passing breath as steve watches it cloud in front of him, as his eyes move over the rickety beds, small and barely together. it's disgusting in here, grime and who knows what coating the floor, and steve's stomach all but drops out from under him when he realizes why the beds are so small. why they have to be this small.
they're for kids.
steve nearly collides with geralt where he's bent over to pick up something from the ground. it's instinct more than anything that has steve stopping just a few inches from him, his attention turning to the circular medallion in his palm and then to the one around his neck. ]
Wait. [ steve says, quiet, his eyes moving to geralt's face. ] You know this place?
no subject
he follows geralt's eyes back up through the portal before he shudders, shakes his head. he is never going to get used to the weird way that looks, no matter how many times he's gone through it. ]
It isn't usually. Or...I guess maybe it always is? I don't know, I just...actually, I don't think it matters. Let's keep moving before that goo catches up to us. [ steve doesn't really want to think about if his world has always had the upside down, if it's always been sitting right under their feet, if they've just been separated by a lack of gate and nothing else, or if he just doesn't actually know enough about it to answer geralt.
either way, he wants to keep moving, and maybe get themselves out of this place. he's had enough of this deep dive into his weird memory storage and maybe, just maybe, seeing those ghost images of the kids back home has his stomach turning uncomfortably. he wants to move, and that means wherever the gate popped them out into.
they walk, and the first thing steve notices is the cold. something sharp and crisp, instead of the damp of the tunnels. steve's eyes scan the room around them and he realizes, with no small amount of relief, he doesn't recognize any of this. which means they're either back in that weird storage container mountain, or somewhere else. the sinking feeling that it is the latter creeps up a little more with each passing breath as steve watches it cloud in front of him, as his eyes move over the rickety beds, small and barely together. it's disgusting in here, grime and who knows what coating the floor, and steve's stomach all but drops out from under him when he realizes why the beds are so small. why they have to be this small.
they're for kids.
steve nearly collides with geralt where he's bent over to pick up something from the ground. it's instinct more than anything that has steve stopping just a few inches from him, his attention turning to the circular medallion in his palm and then to the one around his neck. ]
Wait. [ steve says, quiet, his eyes moving to geralt's face. ] You know this place?