Steven Rogers (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
juststeverogers) wrote2016-07-09 07:14 pm
juststeverogers) wrote2016-07-09 07:14 pm
An All American Birthday Abroad [Open Thread, backdated to July 4th]
There were no fireworks, no parades, no flags waving when Steve was out in the Nexus. Why would there be? It's a day like any other here. One more summer day of decidedly nice, if not a bit warm, weather and people strolling about living their lives as though nothing were different.
It should be special, though. A birth of a nation. His home. The same home that for all he knows is still caught up in a terrible war. He wonders if the parade still went by his old apartment. If Missus Johanessan upstairs is wondering where he is when she bakes that swell cobbler of hers and tries to invite him up for dinner like she always does on his birthday.
Even if he was home, it wouldn't be the same. He'd be alone. Wouldn't be worth going out to the dance halls, or down to the pier by himself.He'd probably be doing what he is now. Sitting on the steps out front of the apartment complex with his sketchbook in his lap, idly drawing memories.
He's drawing the parade he remembers today, trying to remember what it would be like if he were home on this holiday.
It should be special, though. A birth of a nation. His home. The same home that for all he knows is still caught up in a terrible war. He wonders if the parade still went by his old apartment. If Missus Johanessan upstairs is wondering where he is when she bakes that swell cobbler of hers and tries to invite him up for dinner like she always does on his birthday.
Even if he was home, it wouldn't be the same. He'd be alone. Wouldn't be worth going out to the dance halls, or down to the pier by himself.He'd probably be doing what he is now. Sitting on the steps out front of the apartment complex with his sketchbook in his lap, idly drawing memories.
He's drawing the parade he remembers today, trying to remember what it would be like if he were home on this holiday.
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To prove how much he refuses to comply with being grilled he heavily flops down onto the stoop with a doggy groan and sits, massive handpaws on his tiny knees. How can one creature be so top-heavy without constantly falling over?...
"Tell me about Independence Day while you make my hotdog, wiener slave." Suspicious choice of words there, but it's said and he's rolling with it. "You got freedom from England, right? Does that mean you and Viatorus should be mortal enemies, like elves and trolls?"
no subject
Steve topples right over, landing with his butt in the dirt and a giggle already bubbling up as he curls over on his side and laughs. He can't suppress the grin he's got when he sits up again, blonde hair all over the place. It's been a long time since he laughed this genuinely. Harrow really is making this the best birthday ever.
"I'm a punk, not a jerk." He corrects as he scrambles to get back to his feet. Hearing his own nickname for Bucky out of Harrow's mouth somehow makes the smile even wider. It feels...like he's home, sitting with the giant wolf man.
"Well, that was hundreds of years ago. By my time, we're Allies with England. Nothing mends old ties like a common enemy and economic benefits of cooperation." Steve looks over the grill a few times, then glances back at Harrow. "You realize I've never actually used one of these things? We just boiled everything back in the day."