[Open with some closed prompts] Where have all the good men gone?

[livingsymbol]

who: Steve Rogers and anyone else!
what: Various bonding type things
when: General March catch-all
where: Different locations, pick your favorite!
warnings: Nothing yet. Will update as needed?



I. Training exercises [OPEN]

[For any members of the Perimeter Guard hanging around the compound when they aren't on jobs or for those who just frequent the local gyms and need some extra exercise, Steve can be found at both, either very early or late when there aren't as many spectators, running through his routines. It's mostly for his own mental health, although during the midday he offers to do self-defense and combat training or take jogs with people who just want some company. If there are people he's spoken to before that have expressed some interest, he'll probably drag them into a session or two.]

So how do you feel about obstacle courses? We could race.

II. Shield toss beyond the city fences [OPEN]

[Of course Steve Rogers is exploring out alone in the dangerous open wilderness. Of course he's out of his Guard uniform and wearing the navy blue issued to him by SHIELD before he ended up in Quarantine. And of course he's poked his nose right into the middle of a nest of lizard-like creatures each the size of very large dogs, which look none too happy about the human's arrival. This normally wouldn't be too much of a problem, but Steve has somehow managed to find them in a sea of tall grass where they are hunting and the pack is far greater in number than even a super-soldier can handle alone. He's left stranded on a tall rock surrounded by very tall, angry versions of Komodo dragons that are slinking around below, trying to figure out how to reach their dinner. If he tries to attack, he'll most likely lose his one defense and possibly a limb trying to retrieve it. He might make a run for it, but without knowing where all the lizards are, his chances are pretty bad. If anyone happens to pass by or overhead, at least he has their attention.]

This is probably when I should call for help. But it'd be pretty bad for a Search and Rescue member to need rescued. How about it, boys? How smart are you, exactly?

[He may just make a run for it.]

III. Aftermath from his walk in the wilds [OPEN]

[Within the city limits on a few evenings Steve is found limping down the streets. He's probably on his way to buy a burger or some easy food from one of the familiar places he goes to after a hard day out. He has definitely been thrown around and is sporting some interesting scratches and bruises, which mostly means he'll take his meals outside so he doesn't bother other patrons. But he could stand to clean up.

If he happens to run into someone literally by not watching where he's going or if someone gives him and his battered style funny looks he'll stop and give them a polite nod.]

Sorry. I hope I'm not disturbing you.

[It's a zombie Cap cosplay!]

[Closed to MCU!Bucky] Tracking down an old friend (again)

[Steve did try to behave and respect Bucky's privacy. He's been trying to give the man some space and not crowd him, but when his Bucky mentioned that James Barnes of the other world knew who Pierce was and had a history with him, he had to find him. So he starts tracking, asking people around the city if they've seen a guy that looks like Bucky around, and hunting through the city is thankfully not as hard as tracking a man across an entire country, so eventually, with painstaking effort, Steve does catch up. He approaches him in a secluded spot away from everyone else, dropping down before Bucky can bolt.]

I was hoping that you'd call me. Or leave a message at least.

[Closed to Hiccup] Baking can be an adventure too

[As promised, Steve comes to visit Hiccup with a bag of cake making supplies. He might be a bit late considering it's a few days after their talk about his birthday, but Steve is still there and still keeping his promise. He contacts Hiccup and makes sure he's home and then heads over, knocking on the room door of the first floor where the young man and dragon are staying.]

Ready to tackle the oven?

[Closed to Pierce] Tea with enemies

[He's not happy with his own decision to meet with Pierce, but he also hadn't been entirely happy to meet with Loki the first time he did it. This choice is Steve's attempt at keeping an open mind and giving even the worst possible figure in his mind a chance to prove that he's not just out for destruction the way Steve wants to assume he is. It goes against everything Steve believes of him, but at least at this point he doesn't think Pierce will make any hostile moves. Not yet.

So he shows up as planned at the diner, nodding once he finds Pierce even if the motion is slightly stiff.]

After you.

[Because he's going to make Pierce go in first.]

[Closed to Tony Stark] Is this a serious talk?

[Tony did invite him to visit and see his work, so Steve, out of the blue, decides he's going to do that. He also wants to visit JARVIS and Dum-E, so it's not entirely a professional visit, but since Tony seems to be caught up in his own business most of the time, it's up to Steve to bridge the gap. He shows up at the workshop doorstep, greeting JARVIS and asking if Tony is around. And then, of course, making conversation.]

Are you making sure he remembers to eat? He was looking a little thin before.

[You're welcome, Stark.]

Comments

wildcards up in here for rooftop couch talks

[anotheroldsoldier]

[The rain has started to die down. It's a mostly clear night for a change, the temperatures hovering at comfortably cool levels in the early spring. Their building has thankfully not experienced much of the flooding that plagues the outskirts of the city; parts of the downstairs garage are a bit wet but nothing dramatic. It's the wee hours of the morning, around one or two am when Bucky finds himself awake.

It's not unusual. He has trouble sleeping through the night some days. It's still too early to get a start on his day, too early to go for a run around the neighborhood, and too early for most places to eat to be open, minus the all-night diner. On mornings like this, he usually winds up in one place: the rooftop.

During their time living here, the roof has collected bits and pieces, become more of a comfortable place to relax and look out over the city. Bucky brews some coffee in the kitchen and makes his way quietly up there, still dressed in pajama pants and a pullover hoodie, hair mussed from sleep and holding a mug in his right hand to soak up its warmth. He pulls the tarp off the couch they keep there, and settles onto the worn old cushions, gazing out over the twinkling lights of the city below.

It's not too long before he hears footsteps on the stairs. He's not surprised. When one of them is up at this hour, the other usually follows.] Can't sleep?

[livingsymbol]

[Sometimes Steve wakes up lonely. It's a stealthy feeling that creeps into his bed unwanted when he's not expecting it. He wakes up in the dark with visions of fallen friends still hovering in his vision and the voices of people he knew saying words he doesn't think he'll hear again. Even if he does find his way back to the world he came from, will it still be the way he remembers it? Will it remember him?

It's a selfish feeling, because he knows he already has friends and loved ones to turn to in Quarantine, but apparently his subconscious won't let him forget what loneliness tastes like. When Steve wanders up to the roof in a blue T-shirt and worn sweatpants he's relieved to find Bucky waiting. Part of him, that half-asleep part that refuses to forget his dreams, still dreads the possibility of climbs the stairs up to the roof and finding that Bucky has gone.]

Rough day. I guess I'm still restless. You?

[It's an excuse and they both know it, but Steve doesn't know how to say what he wants to say.]

[anotheroldsoldier]

About the same. [He agrees mildly, and it's there between the lines, that he knows it's an excuse. It's the same for him. They're the same in that regard, plagued with nightmares of war and fallen friends, horrible events that will never fully leave them. Tragedy is part of both of them, deep down, one of the many fractured pieces that make up Steve Rogers and James Barnes. He reaches out to catch Steve's wrist with his free hand, tugging him lazily down to the couch cushions next to Bucky. It's not really an invitation so much as an inevitability. They need each other on nights like this.

They need to remind each other that neither of them are alone here. Bucky needs to remind Steve that he's here, that he hasn't left, like he did for a while back in November when everything was too overwhelming, too much. He waits for Steve to get settled, and passes over his coffee; it's still hot, black, strong, the mug half full. The warmth is nice to hold, if nothing else.

Breathing out, he leans against the squishy sofa back, tilting his head to look up at the sky for a moment, then back at Steve, cheek pressed to the fabric.] Wanna talk about it?

[livingsymbol]

[Steve falls onto the couch, his weight hitting the cushions heavily as he just gives in to the tug. While he doesn't show the strain of his feelings in his expression, he conveys it through his posture, slumping into his spot on their couch under the stars with quiet sulking. He stares at his hands resting between his knees, slowly coming around to accepting the warm mug from his friend. And that... that helps bring life back to his features. After a sip of coffee, followed by one more after a pause, he looks over and meets Bucky's gaze, the fear and tension making its way to the surface when he's asked that question by his closest friend.]

I don't know. It doesn't seem like there's much to say.

[Steve winces right after he says that, his too honest nature recoiling from the lie. He's not much of an actor.]

...I'm doing everything wrong, but I don't know how to fix it.

[anotheroldsoldier]

[A hot cup of coffee always helps to perk up a tired soldier. This is a lesson Bucky Barnes has learned throughout his entire life; from his father, coming home from a long day of training maneuvers, to the other soldiers at Camp Lehigh, willing to trade away pay for the good coffee that Bucky could sneak in from other sources, to him and Steve on the battlefield trying to subsist on hot water and instant coffee granules in the middle of nowhere. He's glad he had the foresight to start a pot brewing before he came up here.

Something is on Steve's mind. Bucky watches him carefully from his faux casual position against the back of the sofa. There is a tension in him, something pulled taut that haunts his sleep, and he knows the only way to get it out of him is to wait. To let Steve tell him on his own. As much as he wants to help, he knows from experience that his friend has to let him first, else he'll dig in his heels like an old mule.] There's always something to say to an old friend. [He replies quietly, the corner of his mouth quirking up just barely. It's a less subtle manipulation and one he doesn't feel bad about.

That tiny half smile falls into something more serious, though, when he finally tells the truth.] What do you think you're doing wrong?

[livingsymbol]

[Talking out issues is something Steve is not good at. Even with someone close to him like Bucky, putting his frustrations to words is a challenge he usually tries to shove aside for another day. It's hard to think about, and for someone like him, it just seems easier to push through it and work on improving the situation rather than really talking it out.

Even Steve doesn't always have the best plans. Tactics are easy when you have concrete goals, but feelings are much harder to pin down.]

I wish I knew. Something about this place... It never feels right.

[anotheroldsoldier]

[Talking about feelings just isn't their strong suit. Never was. Bucky gets that. It's the same kind of thing that's ingrained in him as well. He hums out a thoughtful noise instead of a real reply at first, quiet for a few moments, thoughtful. He shifts a bit, until their shoulders press comfortably together, a point of warm, grounding contact.]

Doesn't feel right how? Too good to be true? [It's a shot in the dark, really.] It is kind of hard to get used to living somewhere where the world ain't ending every other Tuesday.