Dealing

[beagoodman]

[Steve has the files Agent Fury has given him in his hand. All his comrades', friends' files are there, mostly stamped with the word "DECEASED". No one's talking him about them only about how big of a hero he is... He's sick of that. He starts to think he's sick of all of it. There is no one he could talk to about this, or who could understand. Not that he would bother anyone with his problems.

So this calls for some distraction and with the Plane he found it. He stands up from his table that appeared together with him, and turns toward the endless starry world. He still remembers when possibly this place wiped his memories and showed him things from his worst nightmares.

He sighs, and decides to take a walk which looks more like patrolling. He plans to visit the bigger buildings and the strategically important points... Wherever they could be...

He's friendly, he's blue, he needs distraction.]

Comments

[inhumanity]

[A distraction: a man with red sclera and shark teeth in the library, tearing apart books to cut out paper flowers and humming to himself. On seeing Steve, he jumps to his feet.]

Friend! You are just the person I was looking for!

[beagoodman]

[Just when Steve wonders that libraries are looking almost the same everywhere and how calm they are... this very strange fellow appears. He can't help but look a bit taken aback by him.]

Am I? [His voice is a bit wary, as he spots the ruined books behind the other.] What may I help you with?

[inhumanity]

I'd like to make a garden. [He holds up one of the cut out flowers and smiles. He hopes his meaning is clear.]

[beagoodman]

[Steve gives a disapproving frown.]

Out of library books? [Because he hopes the man realizes his fault there.]

[inhumanity]

Yes!

[No. No he does not.]

[beagoodman]

[Siiiiiigh...]

I don't know where you're coming from but in my world damaging library books is a crime. Someone might want to read these later.

[inhumanity]

They probably weren't very good books.

[beagoodman]

That doesn't mean you should just go and destroy them, son. [Steve shakes his head as he steps around him to get to the books and put them back to where they belong.] Others might still want to read them.

[inhumanity]

[But Steve will find that the bookshelves have already replaced the ruined books. There is nowhere to put them.]

[Meanwhile, Christopher pouts.]

There are other books to read, dad.

[beagoodman]

[Steve needs proof of that, so he takes a book he had seen was ruined but it looks fine as he opens it. Great, he sighs and puts it back where it belongs.]

I noticed. [He mutters rubbing his face, and turning back to this overgrown child.] In any other case these books wouldn't... Did you know this?

[inhumanity]

[Shamelessly and cheerfully, Christopher answers.]

Hadn't a clue!

[beagoodman]

You were really lucky then. [Dryly.] It doesn't make it better, you're still destroying books.

[He won't let go of the one he's holding as if trying to protect it.] There is proper paper for making these flowers. Colored too.

[inhumanity]

[Christopher is amused by that guardedness. He presses on.] Hah! Let's applaud human ingenuity that has made a kind of paper just for that. Or would we call it wasteful? Lead on, friend, to the heights of excess! Where can I find that paper?

[beagoodman]

[Steve blinks a little. Wasteful? But there is plenty of paper around why would it be wasteful. He looks around, lost a bit.]

I'm not sure, this area is still unfamiliar for me. But I saw the children's section near the entrance, they could keep colored paper there for... everyone's entertainment.

[inhumanity]

Come along, then! [Christopher bounds off. Steve, you following?]

[beagoodman]

[Steve hesitates because LOOK AT THIS MESS. But maybe he can come back when Overgrown Kid here occupied himself with making flowers from paper that doesn't harm anyone. But in the end he catches up to the other to guide him to the children section.]

Wait up, I'll lead the way. Meanwhile you can tell me your name. I'm Steve.

[inhumanity]

Christopher! Christopher Chareau de Red. Let's be friends, Steve.

[beagoodman]

[Steve nods firmly.] It's a pleasure, Christopher. [But he can't help a bit of confused blinking here, it's just Christopher might be the first person ever that wants to be friends with him since he woke up from the ice... nothing personal, really. His answer is short.] Lets.

[When they reach the children section with all the colorful books around, Steve hurries to the desk and searches around in the cupboards for paper. And what do you know there are a few colorful sheets there. He holds them up for Christopher.] Will these do?

[inhumanity]

Yes! [Christopher grabs them up in one hand--and grabs Steve in the other, dragging him down to sit with him. Surely you want to help him with paper adventures, Steve!]

[beagoodman]

Wh-- [Well, uh, actually... Steve just goes along with it because, well, he has no idea why. Must be the guy's childish attitude that makes grown men actually answer toy phones or... make flowers from paper. He looks a bit lost in what he's supposed to do.]

Next time you should come here first when you want to make paper flowers. [Only proper thing he can say right now, really.]

[inhumanity]

You're right! It's much more likely that other people will be here as well. [Just follow along as Christopher starts cutting up the paper flowers, Steve! It's fun!]

[beagoodman]

Well... That's one way to think, yes.

[Steve would follow, yes soon, just a moment. He takes a pencil, because obviously children section has that too, and first draws the flower petal pattern on a blue paper. Then draws the leaf and vine pattern on a green one, and only then he attempts to cut the outlined patterns.]

Here you go, Christopher. [Hands it over to Christopher. It's not glued together though. Steve really doesn't want to think how therapeutic this feels.]

[inhumanity]

[Christopher's smile is bright and warm at it. He sets the flower down on the ground and adds his own contribution.] We can make a garden together, a mimicry of nature with artificial papers derived from trees. Isn't that a remarkably confusing idea? [As he goes away cheerfully at more paper]

[beagoodman]

[Steve lets out a soft sigh, as he's watching their small garden.]

That's... an interesting concept, yes. [He remarks as he's watching Christopher. At least he's not making this out of books...] Do you have a real garden back home?

[inhumanity]

[Nope, he is just putting together a nice garden like a nice kid.] I'm always travelling, so I couldn't say if I do or don't. It depends on where we stay the night.

[beagoodman]

Traveling? So you don't have a home you can go back to? [Steve blinks, and feels a bit sad. Everyone should have a home.] That must be rough.

[inhumanity]

[Christopher pokes some of the flowers around for a better arrangement, humming.] Hmm! Travelling is always fun if you get to do it with friends. Don't you think? I get to travel with my very best friend, Chi! And sometimes, a few of the others join us. Do you travel?

[beagoodman]

Ah, with friends it's a bit different. It could be fun but still not the same as having a home to go back to. [Steve wonders as he starts to make more flowers. But then he halts. Does he travel...? Somehow tricky question.] Sometimes. But I'm not the type.

[decrypts]

[so, here's somebody that looks like he could use a friend. and york, being the friendly guy he is, doesn't waste any time in strolling right on up, matching his steps with the other's despite how measured they are.

hey man, you're not on patrol. take it easy.

he's out of armor, so he shoves his hands in his pockets, humming a tuneless note in the back of his throat before he speaks up.] Nice day for a stroll, isn't it?

[hi steve. meet york. you're probably going to get tired of him soon.]

[beagoodman]

[No more friends, all his friends will diiiie.

The other's presence makes Steve indeed realize that this is just a walk. It's supposed to be a walk, but he can't help feeling wary on the Plane.]

I suppose. You can't tell much about the day around here. [He sighs, then holds out his hand.] I doubt we met yet. I'm Steve Rogers, nice to meet you.

[decrypts]

[hey hold on just a second, he's the one that's supposed to be dramatic around here. none of that.

but he's nodding at that assessment, because despite that little comment being nothing more than an icebreaker, steve's reply is more than true. he shrugs, a roll of his shoulders, and tilts his head to the side.] True, I guess .. I just usually assume it's nice - for a kinda-creepy, kinda-not place. [he takes the other's hand, shakes it firmly, still with that grin curving his mouth.] Don't think we have, no .. everybody calls me York.

[beagoodman]

It's true that we're not bombed all the time either. It could get even peaceful. [Too peaceful.] But I'll take my chances.

York, good day. You sound like you're a long time visitor around here. [Steve remarks as he's looking around, or more like checking the place.]

[decrypts]

Peaceful .. is one way to think about it, yeah. [though now he's wondering just what peaceful tended to mean on the plane in general. if things stay quiet, stay the way they are.. he won't complain. but he's not going to hold his breath on that account, either.

he's nodding, though. when he thinks about it .. how long has it been since he'd first started coming here?] Long enough, I guess .. about four months, give or take, if I'm remembering right. Kinda hard to remember time doesn't move like it does everywhere else here.

[beagoodman]

[Steve sighs.] But there is always this tension. It's just like the calm before a storm. Yet, I find myself returning.

Then that four months could be longer. [He turns to eye York a bit.] Not long ago, there was... some kind of occurrence. It involved loss of memory and constant fear. Things like that are common?