strangetrip | [GP/EP] Check-in Day

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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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.

"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.

"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.

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?

"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?"

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."

"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."

"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.

"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?"

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

"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."

"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.

"More than I do." In a way, it was all about perspective. While she didn't know much, she had answered his questions to the best of her ability. Information was constant. It would always be coming in. Can't stop the information. She'd helped him, even if she thought she had not done so.

He felt the same way about her, though he couldn't peek into her mind. His head tilted to the side and there was the ghost of a smile on his face. "We should." He wasn't really broken, not physically, but he knew what she meant. He felt broken on many levels.

His smile widened a little and he nodded his head in agreement. "Want to help. I do. While I'm here."

"The intent is often enough," most people here had good intent she thought. "We are given rooms and basic supplies. Then we.. build. Cook. Bake. Medicine. I plant things."

Everyone had a job. A purpose. That was nice too.

[GP/EP] Check-in Day

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