[Video]

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[He examines the monitor with the passing familiarity of someone who knows how this works, but isn't entirely used to it and doesn't particularly like it. Blonde-haired, blue-eyed, solemn.]

Thank you, first of all, to the people who helped me out of the water and into the city. I hope some of you see this. If there's anything I can do to repay you for that, please don't hesitate to ask. My name is Steve. Steve Rogers. I'm a captain in the United States Army, from Earth, or Midgard, I guess, if you're familiar with that name. This… Well, I'm not sure what to make of it all, but I'm curious to know if anyone is trying or has tried to get to their homes from here.

Are there people from Earth here? Or other worlds. Anyone at all, really, who'd be willing to tell me more about what we're into.

I'm more than willing to meet wherever you feel most comfortable.

[A pause, a nod, and he turns off the feed.]

Comments

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No, that's not- It's not. Never mind, it's not your fault. [Because Bucky doesn't know. Of course he doesn't know. Not about the crash, the ice, any of it. And he doesn't need to. Not right now.

Steve presses a hand against his friend's cheek, looking him over the same way he did when he found Bucky strapped to the table in Zola's office. Arnim Zola. Thinking about the train is like seeing double - so close, and so impossibly long ago.] Yeah. We got him.

[That trails off into another hug, and another, honest laugh.]

[trainwrecked]

[Eyebrows up. Yes, Steve will be getting all the questions. All of them. But not just now, not when Steve Rogers is stumbling over his words, and clearly upset, and, whoa, pal. You're getting this hug back, too.]

Uh. Want any help... settling? Sightseeing? Shopping? They actually let you have a normal job, here, no need to scrape or beg for one or make up references. And some people keep complaining about the technology, but I'm finding it kinda advanced, you know?

[... actually, how does Bucky not letting you out of his sight for a while sound? With bonus words that are informative but you can take them or leave them? And not poking at bad things just yet?]

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[Kind of advanced.

This is dizzying. Bucky being here, neither of them being on the same page in regards to the technology, it having been only three weeks since the train. Steve braces himself against the back of the nearest chair. ] Yeah.

[It's quiet, though at least he doesn't sound faint. He has to pull himself together.

Steve forces himself to straighten up, clearing his throat. Imagining Phillips glaring over Bucky's shoulder helps with the first part at least.] You have a job?

[trainwrecked]

[Yes, well, if he can't fall apart at Bucky... no, never mind, he's always allowed that. And Bucky's by his side, one hand between Steve's shoulder blades as back when they were trying anything to ease the asthma attacks - only for a moment, and then he pulls it away, sheepishly. But doesn't step away.]

Uh... yeah. Kind of didn't like the idea of the alternative.

[Shows a spot of green at the back of his palm.]

Help paint buildings.

[Nostalgia compounded on trying to make up for all the destruction they've seen? Check.]

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[He laughs a little.] Please tell me they're not having you do more than color the walls.

[Steve remembers those art classes, Buck. The shock and sorrow are starting to wear away into disbelief - sheer, delighted disbelief. He takes a half-step back, absorbing the sight of his best friend in the context of this place. Whatever he was feeling before about finding himself in a world between life, death, and dreaming, now all he feels is that he can take anything that comes.] Three weeks. You know much more about the city than what they told us?

[trainwrecked]

Nope. Just coloring the walls. I want to keep the job, thanks.

[YEP, Bucky remembers, too. Well, that's why he chose that job. But.

And, ah, this expression. (Not like Bucky's eyes move far from his friend.) The delight. It becomes Steve far more than even the traces of anguish that were there, along with the shock. Oh, but he is sorry...]

Some of the things. There's a reason we're all brought here, something to help with, but it's not been revealed, yet. Some of the sectors are safer than others - and Fire is the worst, right now, because one of the gangs decided that we - the non-kedan - are pathetic and tried to execute two of the dames to show that off. Head of police swept in, offed the head of the gang, and now we have a gang war.

But the point that we're here for a purpose... well. The welcome committee didn't tell me that part.

That help?

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It does, a little. [Honestly, just hearing Bucky talk helps. Steve is already plotting, thinking about who they can recruit, how they can find out more.] Any friends you think you can pull in on this?

['This' being, of course, their position on the shell and the investigation of a way to get home. He trusts Bucky to follow his line of thought the way the other man always has.]

[trainwrecked]

Mmm.

[Get you home, Steve. Not that he doubts Rikki will refrain from working to that goal, either.]

Rikki. Uh... Rikki Barnes.

And... there're a lot of people I've caught on the networks who have abilities and are already working on the problem this place is. One way or another. Like finding out we can't really get away from this place, by air or water. Things like that.

[Beat.] Some of the people with special abilities don't seem to be exactly... completely stable. Nobody like Schmidt, thank God, but... [Small shrug.] Though some of them can probably be trusted, anyway.

[And then he thinks for a moment.]

It's been implied that we're here for a purpose. No information on whether you'll be put back where you belong, after, though.