Viatorus' warnings have fallen on deaf ears. Steve is already curled up under the duvet letting darkness wash over him in a gentle wave. There's a sense of drifting in the inky blackness, of things moving and shifting beyond what Steve can see. He's not aware, not at first. Just existing in this sea of the Unconscious feeling the ebb and flow of the collective tide.
It wants to drag him off. Somewhere else--away from here. That is the first sensation Steve has. He doesn't want to do that. It's nice here. As nondescript as here is. He begins wading into shore, enjoying how effortless the decision seems to have made his movements. His clothes aren't wet in the least, which is good. These old hand me down suits are paper thin under the best of circumstances.
Rather than a beach, Steve finds himself inside almost as soon as he's out of the water. The creaky floors are familiar. Up three flights past Mrs. Nelson's door. He'll have to thank her for allowing him to use her sewing machine later, when they have a little extra after rent. Someone's selling papers outside--Steve can hear them through the window as soon as he lets himself into the apartment. Bucky's not home yet, but somehow Steve doesn't feel like the place is empty.
And sure enough, there's a knock on the door. How long was he waiting? He can't tell, and it hardly matters. It's still bright outside. Steve heads for the door.
"Harrow? It didn't take you long I hope. You ready for that tour I promised you?" It's the most natural thing in the world. He'd been meaning to show Harrow his world, and now's the perfect time to. Harrow's in his own body,a s is Steve, and why wouldn't they be?
Epic Longpost Incoming
It wants to drag him off. Somewhere else--away from here. That is the first sensation Steve has. He doesn't want to do that. It's nice here. As nondescript as here is. He begins wading into shore, enjoying how effortless the decision seems to have made his movements. His clothes aren't wet in the least, which is good. These old hand me down suits are paper thin under the best of circumstances.
Rather than a beach, Steve finds himself inside almost as soon as he's out of the water. The creaky floors are familiar. Up three flights past Mrs. Nelson's door. He'll have to thank her for allowing him to use her sewing machine later, when they have a little extra after rent. Someone's selling papers outside--Steve can hear them through the window as soon as he lets himself into the apartment. Bucky's not home yet, but somehow Steve doesn't feel like the place is empty.
And sure enough, there's a knock on the door. How long was he waiting? He can't tell, and it hardly matters. It's still bright outside. Steve heads for the door.
"Harrow? It didn't take you long I hope. You ready for that tour I promised you?" It's the most natural thing in the world. He'd been meaning to show Harrow his world, and now's the perfect time to. Harrow's in his own body,a s is Steve, and why wouldn't they be?