tushanshu | 006 || Video

[He considered making this a voice or a text entry on the network for the sake of avoiding... well, people - but ultimately that would raise more questions with those who know him. Civilian clothes, calm demeanor, utterly meaningless political smile.]

I hope you're all faring all right with the changes in our environment and the requirements that puts on its population. I'm used to rationing, but I understand that it's probably and adjustment for those of you that are not.

Peggy and I had an idea about that - we wanted to see if there was any interest in a communal pot luck, periodic until things normalize.

Additionally, we wanted to see what people thought of a resource pool of food and nonperishables held in the... should I just call it a community center? That's how we'd like the space to serve during peacetime.

Um. [A small laugh.] Sorry, I lost my train of thought. As I was saying, we'd like to work on what amounts to a food bank for the duration of the rationing and possibly longer, if it proves useful and necessary. Donations are of course encouraged, particularly from those whose enterprises are not as effected by the restrictions currently in place.

[The empty warmth briefly dissipates, leaving Steve militant all out of proportion to what he says next.] To pre-empt those who think it's naive, ill-advised, et cetera, we would be monitoring the intake and distribution of goods to ensure that no single party exploits the generosity of contributors. I think as a charitable model it's a good one.

[He clears his throat and settles back in his chair.]

I'm not much good with plants, but if we could get space on the roof of the building, it might do some good to have a garden up there as well.

[100% JARVIS-assisted encryption to Evandau]

Sir. I would like to discuss, in person and at your earliest convenience, a potential threat to the safety of the Foreigner population. And also inquire after the well-being of Miss Namorita Prentiss, who you have in custody.

[ACTION FOR PEGGY]

[Done. He switches off the console and tilts his head back, inspecting the ceiling of the apartment with one of those vague and pointless realizations regarding how few people ever look up.

He scrubs his face with both hands and gets up, going to the kitchen to wet a cloth and press it against his face, then neck, mentally reciting passages from the books he'd read before Keeliai and snatches of songs to try and keep his thoughts from going back to the lab Natasha described and its contents. It doesn't work especially well.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

No we w--wait, what do you mean? You have superhuman abilities of some kind?

[Surprise, and curiosity.]

Kind of. Nothing like Superman or your speedster friends, but I get by.

[Kyle considers this. He might... not be as sharp at reading people but there's certain things that are clear to him. The fact that Steve doesn't act like somebody who was born with those kind of abilities. Kyle knows, he's worked with them for so many years; he can tell when he sees one.

If it's artificial (which is likely) he wrestles with his conflicted emotions. He understands the need. He's been a weapon, for crying out loud. He trained the next Ion, and despite concerns over the rookie being too reckless, he knows Sodam has a good heart and will use those abilities for good.

He wants to ask, if Steve knew about everything he was getting into before agreeing to... whatever process, but they're not close enough for something like that, and that would mean having to mention his own experiences, even in passing. And all things considered, it's still speculation and he doesn't know for certain.

Kyle has never spoken to anyone about what that year of his life was like. Mogo knew, but Mogo had shared his thoughts and he hadn't needed to speak at all.

So joking it is, although this pause has given him away.] Friend, singular. One's more than enough, thanks.

Edited 2013-03-23 05:48 (UTC)

[There's clearly something in the silence, but Kyle doesn't bring it into the open and it isn't Steve's place to ask.

Never mind the fact that with the double revelation of Natasha's discovery and the secret she's been keeping, the secret Steve still hasn't confronted her about, with Bucky's confession about the mercy killing and the revelation that came after, with the gnawing fury he can't express out of need for information and patience, Steve doesn't have it in him right now to quest for other concerns. He can only hope that whatever is bothering the other man, he has someone to talk to, or that it can wait for another time.

Deal with the present problem. That's all he can do.

His own tone is perhaps a little more tired, but that's it.] Do you know of anyone else with special dietary needs that might be affected?

[That makes silences on both their ends, and the corner of Kyle's lip quirks upwards, a little. One day, maybe, he can ask about it. Not on the network, of course, and nowhere that was bugged.

He wryly wonders when and how he started thinking about things like this - like they were supposed to be ordinary, but no, he was not wired for it. It was complete trust or nothing at all—

Long-term planetside mission, he reminds himself. It's not like his quarters on diplomatic escort or other similar events hadn't been similarly unsecure.

But none by people you're supposed to trust, right?

I don't trust them.

Once he admits it, he relaxes immediately. It is... okay. To not trust. He has the right to withhold it unless someone proves themselves worthy.] A few vegetarians.

[And there was Bean - Bean who had probably rarely ever eaten fresh food, and wouldn't get to for a while. They were not strangers to hardship, or hunger, but.] What about you? I can make a note of it and see if we can find more of what they might need, as well as inform Dr. Natu in case anybody needs their nutrition intake monitored.

I'll be fine. I made it through - [ h e h ] -through most of of the Second World War all right. This isn't much different. At least as far as food goes. Might be a good idea to keep an eye on the speedsters, though.

[There is a soft chuckle Kyle's end.] Keep up your strength too.

[His tone is a little reproachful, because hey he kind of had the same idea of giving more because he didn't need as much.]

Edited 2013-03-23 06:58 (UTC)

I'll manage. [The words are sharper than they would be on a normal day.] Like I said, I've done it before.

Yes, sir. [There's an argument in Kyle waiting to be let loose at that tone (he takes care of his damn men--) but he bites back his frustration and speaks considerably more gently than the sharp retort he intended that to be.]

[He pinches the bridge of his nose. With greater patience:]

I will. Be fine, I mean.

Captain. [His tone is still gentle, but it is charged with an authority that only a commander possesses. Firm, not forceful.

He almost says, I've heard that line too often. From my men. From me.

And then- he simply deflates, remembering Bean.] I apologise. It's not my place.

[He considers the politic answer. Some reassurance or polite dismissal. What comes out is,] No, it's not.

[A short pause, and Kyle's voice is now completely neutral, devoid of any emotional reaction. At least Steve was honest with him, he thinks, instead of retreating behind the shield of politeness that most do.] We'll see what we can do regarding your soup kitchen. Thank you for setting this up.

[Heh.] I won't be the one to thank, if it works. I'll keep you informed.

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