juststeverogers | Merry Christmas!

"What's happened? What's going on?" The present can wait. There are more important matters at hand, like how Amelia has barricaded her door.

"Amelia? You can tell me. What's going on?"

"...Nah. Just, talking about the art and home. Realized it was my first Christmas away from home." And that there's a present wrapped under his tiny fake tree that isn't going to get claimed.

"It just feels more real when there's a milestone to put by it. But I'm lucky to have met so many great folks here."

The weather is on the frightful side. Nothing that he can't handle. Just as he's starting to get out his phone to let Steve know he's close, the heartbeat and presence followed by the voice lets him know that he's a lot closer than he thought. "You can say that again." Matt's flattered that Steve would wait in this for him.

Again with the weird, observed feeling. What is that?

"The coffee sounds even better than when we started. Is winter always like this here?"

Steve's directions are easy to follow. He's a guy with an artist's eye, always looking out for details. It makes things almost too convenient for Harrowheart. He runs to the place on all fours in his worgen form, his hands wrapped onto his wrists, his satchel slung over his back. He wears only a pair of jersey shorts, because who needs to keep out the cold when you've got a built-in Winter fur? Also the fact that he's dead. There is that.

He slows his speed when he nears Steve's building and from a few dozen yards away catches sight of Small Friend Steve.

Then he got an idea! An awful idea!
The dog got a wonderful, awful idea.
"I know just what to do!" Harrow laughed in his throat.
"Poor Steve's never seen me in my worgen coat..."

Now, Verity warned him. Told him 'Don't you scare Steve!'
'He's got asthma, you know! A breather who can't breathe.'

With his narrator's rhymes exhausted by that last ass-pull, Harrow pauses to consider his options. Startling transformations, charging, snarling, that's all off the table. But a prank can't hurt, right? A little game of mistaken identity? Surely Steve will find it all good fun in hindsight!

He creeps on forward, ears perked, eyes wide, shoulderblades rolling with every step. The guy's just standing there, blissfully unaware, sipping soup from a tube like the precious cinnamon roll he is. And just for a flash it is terribly hard not to bolt at him and knock him down. Could this possibly have been a bad idea?...

By the time Harrow begins to mull it over he's already in front of Steve. Even on all fours he's almost as tall as the guy! But then he stands, and he's easily got two feet on him. Enjoy all that hairy wolf chest in your face, Steve.

Harrow looms, flexing his claws, and in his deep and gravelly voice says, "You... Are you not Steve Rogers, Warrior of Earth? Champion of Brooklyn?"

He pauses a moment to sniff the air. "I would not forget your smell. YOU! are the honorless cur who slayed my family and enslaved my puppies for your entertainment! My day of vengeance has finally come! Are you prepared to engage me in hard combat, or will you flee, as is only fitting your shameful nature?!"

Verity sets the picture aside to slide over to him and wrap an arm around his shoulders. Just friendly-like. "Yeah. It gets harder sometimes. But it'll be easier sometimes too. That isn't a bad thing. It doesn't make us bad people." They can commiserate about first Christmases away from their worlds, and about best friends who change and don't come for the holidays anymore. Or they can decide to ignore all of that and eat too many cookies. Up to him.

Steve nearly reaches out to pat the wolf creature on the head before it stands up, growling down at him. And then his head is tilting back, trying to take in the huge creature before him.

"I...I am, I think. Did you want some soup?" Kerblink. Enslaving puppies? Slaying families? That sounds like an awful lot of animal abuse up in here. "Wrong Steve after all, I couldn't afford a pet back home. Combat might be hard here, they uhm. There's a field and all."

"It's my first winter here, too. You got me." Steve helps brush the snow off of Matt's shoulders and leads him inside and upstairs. There's a smell of pine inside Steve's apartment, but further inspection will find it's a candle rather than a fresh Christmas tree. There's no way Steve could have carried one up to his place, anyway.

The coffee is already done and Steve is quick to shuck his snow covered winter wear and pour them something warm to drink.

"At least this place is well insulated. It's so nice to have a warm home for a change."

Cookies and warm drinks and not-being-alone area all wonderful things. Steve wants to enjoy the holiday to the fullest he can.

He chuckles slightly and pulls something out of his pocket.

"Nana says this is your present. I didn't peek." It's a folded up sheet of paper that has a couple recipes jotted down onto it. Verity's favorite dish, as well as the hand pies she always shovels into Jim's face.

There's nothing wrong with that, either.

The change in subject is a little abrupt, but she'll roll with it, taking the paper and reading it over. Her smile grows with each line. "Ah, she's going to spoil and ruin me. Thank you for bringing this--I'm guessing it's a hint I need to visit more often?"

"It's not safe out there. It's not safe. Everyone is out there and they're trying to get in. I had to get away. I'm trying to stay safe." Her eyes dart around the room, and she watches the window in particular. "I want to go home. But I can't get there. No portal. No way to get to the alley I came through. So I'm here, but it's not home. Fuck, I need to get home, Steve."

Her hands are waving around wildly as she speaks. She's pacing the room slowly, though her boots don't make a sound as she does. She pulls her hair pin from her hair with her free hand and clutches it tightly.

"I can't... I can't stay here. I have to get out of here. But I don't have anywhere to go."

The wolfman's ears swivel around in all directions as he processes Steve's reaction. A few seconds later he bends down with his hands on his knees until his face is at Steve's level. His ears perk forward, then finally flatten.

"What the heck, Steve, y'weren't even scared. You offered me soup! And you didn't even think for a second that maybe in the future you go back to Earth and turn out to be a badguy?"

He snorts a little breath of cold air at Steve's hair and rolls his eyes.

"Naw, 'course not. You're too sweet."

He stands straight and tilts his head curiously. "You knew it was me, didnt'cha?"

Edited 2015-12-25 23:42 (UTC)

"Amelia, the field is in place, nothing can hurt you." But she's not listening, and Steve doesn't want to argue with her when she's like this. Whether it's a panic attack or not, he walks right over and pulls her arms down.

"Breathe in." He waits until she does. "Out." Wait. "In." wait. "Out." When it doesn't seem to alleviate her panic, Steve gives a decisive nod.

"Okay, gather up your things. Bundle up. I'm going to take you somewhere safe. You trust me, right?"

Seems like everyone is prepared for it at least. Matt will be. Who knows how long it will last. He shivers and nods his gratitude as the heavier clumps of snow fall from him with Steve's help. The pine smell still brings up the right kind of feeling. "You decorate?" It is a candle. Those are significant for this holiday too, Mr. Rogers. Don't forget that.

Ah, yes. That's another great smell to his nose. "Mine seems to be okay. I think furniture will help too."

"I had a suspicion once you started talking." Steve smiles a bit and holds out the thermos. "Here. This will warm you up a bit. Want to come see my apartment?"

There's a pause, and then Steve gives a thoughtful frown.

"You might want to change back, or it'll be hard getting up the stairs. It's kinda narrow."

"A little. Small stuff that reminded me of home. Someone was tossing a small fake tree, so I brought it up and doctored it as best I could. The candle, and a tin of cookies--I don't know how to bake yet, so they're store bought, sorry." Said tin of cookies is sat down in front of Matt.

"It almost feels like home." He gets a nice warm mug of coffee, too. And then a bag gets set next to him. No explanation or warning. Steve's hunkered on the other end of the couch, smiling into his own mug.

"Sorry--I forgot to give it to you earlier." Steve rubs at the back of his neck for the non sequitor. He sets aside his empty mug. "I stopped by to give her a present yesterday and she gave me that for you."

She'd have given it to Jim but somebody hasn't been around lately. Ah well. Steve's a good guy. He got it to Verity.

"She said to make sure Jim's eating enough. She said the same thing to me, but I told her, this is how I always look." He laughs. "Not for lack of trying, believe me."

"You remembered before you left, that's timely enough." She gives his shoulders a gentle squeeze before releasing him. "She would. And I'm trying. But either of you make it very easy sometimes..."

No one can be fully trusted. Everyone is suspect. But Steve... he's a friend. With him, she feels safe. She always has. It cuts through her paranoia, allows her a single moment of clarity to answer.

"I trust you."

All of her weapons are gathered and belted, then she pulls on her neck wrap from Verity and her cloak. She throws her hair up again and then pulls the hood of her cloak down. Her hands begin shaking as she turns back to Steve. Part of her wants to ask where they're going, but she's afraid she won't follow if she does. Her voice shakes as she says, "Let's go."

Steve reaches out and takes Amelia's hand, leading her out and into the Nexus proper. The snow is still falling, giving an ethereal quiet to the Nexus proper. Steve sticks to cleared streets and back alleys--less likely to leave footprints.

He doesn't think they're in any danger. The important part is alleviating Amelia's fears.

They're taking the most roundabout and back alley way Steve knows to get back to his apartment, and the slim man doesn't say anything the entire walk unless she asks him first. It's not until they're safely inside that Steve locks his door, latches his windows, and gives Amelia a small smile.

"Schon watches over this place. So if there's a safer place in the Nexus, I don't know about it. Go on, sit down. You can stay here as long as you like." He's going to heat up some soup so she can get something to eat.

"Hey, I eat as much as I can! There's just not a whole lot of place to put it." Steve gives her a look. "I went hungry enough before. I'm grateful not to have to, now."

"Speaking of food....would you mind awfully if I got some more?" He points to the kitchen.

"I thought young men were all supposed to have hollow legs or something," she points out, teasing gently. "Did they forget to give you one?"

Then she grins and gives him a nod. "Sure, have whatever you'd like. Speaking of, is Nana's going to be closed for Christmas? I should send you home with something to tide you over."

"Wouldn't be the first time I got a bunk part." Steve laughs at his own joke and gets up. There are cookies in the kitchen he passed by the first time.

And..another blueberry muffin.

He doesn't have a problem he can stop anytime he wants.

"I think so. I should really look around and take some classes." Steve sighs. "I love eating at Nana's but I should also learn how to cook for myself." Especially if he's going to stick to Samus' food regimen.

Steve's choice of route is impeccable. There's less people on this route, which makes Amelia feel a little better about being outside. In truth, they're not in danger - she just thinks they are.

Talk of Schön's magic does nothing to alleviate her fears. She still checks every inch of the apartment once they're inside, both elated and frightened of the large number of windows. Being on the top floor is helpful, but it won't keep everyone out. The moment Steve's back is turned, she's working to barricade the door with his couch. No point in asking for permission, she figures, because it will keep them safe. Her mind is already working through more options for fortification before the couch is in place and there's no worry about sleeping arrangements because she's not planning on sleeping, pretty much ever.

When Steve hears the couch moving, he sighs slightly and continues working to heat them up some food. She has to fall asleep eventually, and he's pretty determined to try and get her to calm down enough for it.

The gift can wait.

"Here." He makes no mention of the moved furniture, handing her a soup bowl and spoon. "Chicken and wild rice. Eat up. It'll help you focus." And hopefully start to calm her down. If he can just ride this out, be calm for her, hopefully she should start to match him.

She's trying to protest when he hands her the bowl and spoon, but she trusts him. If he made the food, it will be safe. Steve is safe.

"Thank you." The reply is soft, but she immediately digs into the soup. She doesn't sit or slow down as she eats. Her eyes are taking in every detail of the place, trying to think of all possible routes in. The front door is covered. The side windows are fairly easy to defend if only one is broken at a time. The skylight is the real problem - how does one defend against an opponent coming from above?

When she's finished with the soup, she takes the bowl to the small kitchen area. Steve doesn't have a lot of knives that could be useful in a fight, but perhaps is she left a dagger or two there it would be okay? There's no outward talk about it, but she removes a dagger from her belt and sets it down on the counter anyway. That's when another problem occurs to her.

"How much food do you have here? How long can we stretch out the supplies you have?" Because going out for more is in no way an option.

Merry Christmas!

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Merry Christmas! My gift to you is anxiety~

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Oh my god, that narration :D :D

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Now we need a Grinch poem for Jim. The Jim hated Christmas, the whole Christmas season!

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Family abuse and ill timed birthdays will do that :<

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