[GP/EP] Check-in Day

[st_oneswidow]

The woodwinds in her collection were for noodling mostly, and the violin was for memory of her family, but when Curnen really wanted to play she turned again and again to her guitar. This would probably always be her best instrument. It was the first of the month, she’d been here over a year, and it was probably a check-in day. So she sat on the lawn with her instrument in her lap, sending out a subtle magic to call anyone stranded in their little world this way.

At one point, though, she set aside the guitar and turned her face to the sky. For just a few minutes she required a different kind of magic.

It had been a week now since Scanlan had vanished in the battle. And Pike, too, though Curnen honestly couldn’t have cared less about her going away if she tried. Still. The two of them were family to people very dear to her, people who missed them. And Scanlan had been her friend. You marked something like that with a song.

Of all the money that e'er I had
I spent it in good company
And all the harm that e'er I've done
Alas, it was to none but me
And all I've done for want of wit
To memory now I can't recall
So fill to me the parting glass
Good night and joy be with you all

It was a traditional Irish goodbye, a farewell to friends said with love, drinking, well wishes, and the hope of meeting again. She couldn’t think of a better one for the occasion. And as she sang she twined her magic into her voice in a new way, sending the song to any ears that needed it, ears of those who knew and missed the departed. Not all of them might understand it, not all of them knew what she was, but she didn’t particularly care about that right now. The song was more important than the hiding.

Once the last note had dissipated she picked up her guitar again and resumed her work. If there were anybody out there, they had to know where to go.

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Re: Assigned Threads

[st_makemeastone]

Run. Hide. Don't let them find you. Hurts. Hurts to remember. No. No... No... Two by two hands of blue. Always coming.

Wto was running? She couldn't tell. For the first time in a long time she didn't know if what she was remembering and feeling was hers or belonged to someone else. Someone... Him?

She knew when she saw him enter the lobby that it was his, AND hers. Running.

But not here.

"They don't come looking here." She might be talking to him, or herself from her spot perched on a chair near the front desk. Trying to convince herself.

Re: Assigned Threads

[st_ranger]

The voice startled him. It almost made him feel bad that he had not seen her right away. It wasn't as if she had snuck up on him, since she was just sitting there. His eyes narrowed and he almost wasn't sure if he should approach, but he did.

A young girl she was, but that meant nothing. The widow of black had also been a young girl once in the room of red. Looks could be deceiving.

"Who doesn't come looking here," he asked softly. His grip on the strap on his shoulder tightened as he glanced around the room. The more he came into it, the more he mapped it in his mind. Windows. Corners. Strategy. Exit routes.

His eyes were drawn back to her and he couldn't help but be curious. He didn't smile, but his guard lowered a fraction of an inch. That was like a smile for him. "Where's here?"

Re: Assigned Threads

[st_makemeastone]

He shouldn't feel bad, people frequently didn't realize she was there. Sam said she skulked but the truth was she was very good at being still. And people just didn't notice because mostly people couldn't be still.

But she was good at hide and seek.

"Madonna Inn." Count ten. Olly olly oxen free. Is she seeking or hiding? Her hands fluttered around her head as though flicking away something flying around her. "Where precisely is harder."

[st_ranger]

"Madonna..." He blinked, staring around. The hotel didn't look religious in nature. Or opulent and covered in gold. His head tilted and he did a full three sixty, before looking back at her. It had been bad form to put his back to her, he knew, but there was also enough distance between them that he could have stopped an attack if he wanted to.

If he had to. He didn't want to. He didn't do that anymore if he could help it.

Slowly, he took another step closer to her, then another. He wanted to see what she would do. It was a cat and mouse game. Beside him, his metal hand flexed slightly.

"Country of origin?" She had to be able to tell him that, didn't she?

[st_makemeastone]

He could have tried to stop an attack. She was quicker than she looked, and possibly more dangerous. But she didn't want to anymore either. So they had that and running in common.

She hopped gracefully from the chair to the floor, landing lightly like a cat so she was standing almost but not quite too close and looking at him with wide knowing eyes.

"Unknown. Outside space and time. Disconnected. Can't go home again." A pause because she knows this isn't an adequate answer but it really is hard to explain. "We come. We stay. There will be a room."

This time she looked over at the front desk and Darryl, "Automaton. Can't answer questions but he will have keys."

[st_ranger]

The scary part about that was that he understood what she was saying. Well, most of it. He didn't flinch when she moved closer to him, but his shoulders did tense. He prepared for an attack that he expected to come. The way she looked at him made him feel like he was on display.

Like the museum.

"Keys..." Bucky stepped away from her and moved over to the desk. As he did so, he was greeted and handed the keys to his room. Dark eyes stared down at the number, before turning to look back at her. "He's a robot," he murmured.

Slowly, with great hesitance, he moved back over to her. "Can't go home. Outside space and time?" He shook his head, trying to wrap his mind around it. "Will they come for me here?" He doubted she would have the answer, but she had the others, so it wouldn't hurt to ask.

[st_makemeastone]

Not a robot, or she didn't think so since the staff weren't blanks the way a robot might be.

But that wasn't the important bit of what he's said.

"My monsters haven't come for me."

[st_ranger]

Bucky stared at her.

Really stared at her.

"You're on the run too." It wasn't a question. He swallowed, wondering who and what she was running from. Was she from the Red Room? Was she HYDRA? He took a step back, shaking his head. He would not be put under again. He would not become that soldier.

He took a deep breath, letting out out slowly and trying to stay calm. "What monsters?"

[st_makemeastone]

"Didn't want a girl, wanted a weapon so they went in and took bits... Two by two," she almost sank into herself, terror thick in her voice and darkening her eyes, her physical response visible as she trembled. "Hands of blue."

She squeezed her eyes closed the heel of one hand pressed against her forehead the other started a rythmic banging to the back of her head as though trying to force the images out. Then she shrieked and started to babble as she retreated back to the chair. "Two by two. Coming. Always coming.. but not here. Here is safe. Safe. Coming."

[st_ranger]

Bucky stepped forward, lifting his good hand to tentatively raise it and place it on her shoulder. "Hey," he said, a bit awkwardly, glancing at her. He wasn't sure what was going on, but he didn't want her to hurt herself. It was as if the HYDRA programming was kicking in for her. "No. Don't... Do that?"

He frowned when she started to shriek. "Stop. Uh, please?" He tried to give her shoulder a squeeze. He shook his head. "If we're safe, they can't come here. You... You said safe."

[st_makemeastone]

She didn't push his hand away, that was probably a good thing but he would be able to feel her trembling beneath the hand.

"Safe." She repeated the word. And then again, "Safe..."

When she looked up at him through a veil of hair her face was tear streaked but the wildness had faded some. "They aren't here but they're still in here."

When she tapped her head this time it was lightly, rather than with painful intent.

[st_ranger]

Bucky frowned. "They're in mine too." He still wasn't sure that they were speaking about the same they to each other, but he knew what she meant. His metal hand raised and he gently tapped his temple. "Words. Not my words. Can't hear them." If he did, he wouldn't be himself. And that scared him. He didn't know what he would do if it did happen. That was why he ran. Why he hid.

"Look. Um. Is there a place... Drinks or food? We talk... About this place?" He sighed. "You said that we're safe here. So... You're safe. Just breathe."

He never expected he would be a comforting presence to anyone. If someone had said that to him, he'd laugh in their face. And then he'd be shocked, since he hadn't laughed in a long time either. "Don't cry. Please."

[st_makemeastone]

The tears had mostly dried up, though her face was still damp, and her breathing slowly calmed because he was so calm. Maybe. She pointed toward the cafe, no sure about her voice yet.

"Food. And drinks."

[st_ranger]

He followed her, letting her lead towards the cafe. He still had a lot of questions, mostly wondering who she was running from. He still wasn't sure if he could trust her or not.

He wanted to, at least.

"What... What's good?" He was still getting used to tasting food, having it be more than just fuel to him. It had been a long time since he enjoyed it.

[st_makemeastone]

"Not the chicken," it wasn't bad it just wasn't good. It was the default. She'd lived long enough on plain protein mush so she knew what it meant to only eat for fuel.

"Anything Carlos made. And there are usually cookies." She had a sweet tooth that she wasn't supposed to indulge but Sam didn't seem to care and Simon wasn't here to complain. Since it was a day when they had learned to anticipate arrivals in the cafe was a buffet of sorts, as well as coffee, tea, and an open bar.

[st_ranger]

"Okay. No chicken." Bucky frowned. With a small shrug of his shoulders, he made his way in behind her, taking in the new room that they were entering. Same as the last one, Bucky looked around to map out where all the corners, windows and potential exit strategies would be if he needed them. He wouldn't need them, he told himself. He shouldn't. And yet, it didn't hurt to have a backup plan.

Bucky glanced down at the key again in his hand, frowning. They knew his name. They had assigned him a room. He was stuck here, plucked out of time and space and now they were feeding him.

Something felt wrong.

"Cookies." He vaguely remembered a memory about him and the Captain, Rogers, with cookies. "I... I think I'll just take a coffee for now," he murmured. "I..." He didn't really know how to say that he didn't know what he wanted.

[st_makemeastone]

Luckily he was with someone who didn't need him to say it. She was already putting a slice of pie and a cookie and some of the fruit salad on a plate which she handed to him before pouring a cup of coffee for him and juice for her.

"Sugar will help with shock." Hadn't they 'prescribed' strong sweet tea back in Victorian times for just these sort of situations?

[st_ranger]

"Uh. Thanks." He swallowed, nodding his head in gratitude as he took the plate from from her. He wasn't used to this, someone being so nice to him without a reason. His eyes narrowed and he looked around the room, finding a small booth in the corner. Bucky moved over to it and sat down with his back against the wall. It was the perfect vantage point for him. Nobody could sneak up from behind and he could see everything around him.

His eyes glanced down at the plate, then up at her. Unsure what to do, he waited until she joined him before even considering taking a bite of his food. "I... I have questions," he said softly. "I don't know if you can answer them?"

[st_makemeastone]

She didn't know either, but she was willing to try.

"I am very smart but I am not always easy to understand. I will try." She poured a cocoa packet into her mug of hot water and stirred. "Answers here are... rare."

[st_ranger]

"I... I'm understanding you? Mostly..."

He wasn't really sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. Was he broken too?

Digging into his food, Bucky took a few bites, using that as a way to distract and buy himself some time. He tried to think of just what he wanted to ask, but he wasn't sure. "I... I don't know you're name. I'm... People called me Bucky."

[st_makemeastone]

"River." He might be broken, but she didn't tell him that. Of course she was learning that most people had broken bits. Her bits were just more obvious.

[st_ranger]

"River." He gave her a small smile. "Suits you." Bucky nodded his head and took a few bites of his food. "How long have you been here?"

[st_makemeastone]

"One year, nine months," approximately. She could tell him more exactly but people got weird if you quoted it in days, minute and seconds.

[st_ranger]

"You are experienced in the way this place works." It was a statement, not a question. Clearly, she knew her way around here and could be of great help to him going forward. The fact that he understood her and felt at ease around her was an odd comfort to him. It was hard to put into words. He felt like he had a kindred spirit in her when he gazed at her.

Both of them were broken in their own ways.

"Thank you," he said softly, almost awkwardly. Two words he was not used to saying in a long time. "For... Helping me."

[st_makemeastone]

"I know what there is to know, it is not much."

Kindred spirit was a good way to put it she thought, she felt a similar familiarity. Maybe because so much of what she felt coming from him was echoed in her own memories and feelings.

"Broken people should stick together." Though she would have helped either way, "People here... help. It is a community. We did not choose to come but we work together to make it more."

More than chicken dishes and plain white towels.