( open )

[decommission]

CHARACTERS: Steve Rogers + anyone
WHERE: The Bearings, Subspace,
WHEN: Day :011 and onward
SUMMARY: Open prompts and catch-all stuff
WARNINGS: nothing nothing



i. the mechanical menace (first come, first serve)

[ It's an odd pair that they make their way down a street in Delta Block. The android is about a head taller than Steve, and agitated. One of the reasons for that might be that the poor guy's missing both hands, and not because he didn't have any to begin with - exposed wiring trails down its wrists, both held forward like a supplicant - or out of habit, an assistant type model used to carrying something.

The other reason it seems so out of sorts has to do with Steve himself, who's carrying a bunch of groceries that were clearly meant for those missing hands. The bags aren't heavy, he doesn't struggle with them, but that doesn't stop the android from repeatedly trying to reach over and remove them from Steve's grasp. After the third attempt he stops, letting it lift both arms so that he can hook the bags at its elbows, securing them so that they have less of a chance of slipping.

Even with that done, he continues to walk along at its side. ]

ii. the arcade (multiple responses a-ok)

[ Bout it Out isn't something he's had much time for the past few days. Earlier in the week he'd 'made' himself an Avatar - for an artist his creativity's a little lacking, considering the damn thing looks like the generic copy the game automatically generates (it is). He practices by himself toward the back of the arcade, a plain staff in his Avatar's hand - moving slowly through the motions that Anakin had taught him back on the station to get a better feel for how it all translates into the holosphere.

Somewhere on the other side of the arcade a cheer bursts out. Not for a match - someone's tearing down a large poster of 'Kun-Kun' from the wall. ]

iii. back at the bearings (closed to parker)

[ Larann's broadcasts ends with an immediate flurry of anger across the digital realm. It's a mess of information to sift through the slow way, but he's gotten himself trapped in the comments section of one video and he can't seem to break out of it. It's culture shock, in part. The immediacy of Concordia combined with millions of voices demanding to be heard all at once is a dizzying effect, attention drawn in too many directions at once. Not unlike the Nest itself, and it's taken him the better part of a month to learn how to block all that out to some degree.

He just needs to focus.

There's a main screen in the common area where he's seated at a small table, a twenty-four hour news channel repeating the same handful of bombing related stories and anything remotely tangential. When it cycles back to a repeat of Larann's announcement for the sixth time he seems to lose his patience, using the interface device at his ear to mute the volume, forgetting that he's not the only one in the room. ]

iv. wildcard

(gimme a prompt and I'll roll with it!)

Comments

[decommission]

[ That's... not helpful. His frown deepens. As far as official channels go it's the same reports. Looking at Extraspace, there's all kinds of information about the bombing, though that's only when using the term information very, very loosely. A lot of it is conspiracy theory. There's almost nothing that isn't being talked about somewhere.

His pause is almost equally long, then: ]

No one's claiming responsibility yet.

[unfavoured]

[ Almost. There is always something. Parker keeps her eyes on the rapidly changing images on the screen. Fingers slowly drumming on her arms. She tilts her head lightly at his words, though, so that's a good sign - that she's not totally ignoring him. ]

Which is a sign on itself, no?

[ See, he's learning already. Parker drops her arms and pulls her hood over her face, giving him a pointed look. Naturally, she would rather work alone, could probably do it, but having eyes on the back of your head is always helpful, especially in an unfamiliar environment. ]

One of the guys was released from the hospital, too. Maybe he knows something.

[decommission]

[ Intrigue, detective work - doesn't seem to him that he's got much experience in it outside of books, comics and the pictures. Not at the level that this mission's been asking for. Hasn't helped that he's been distracted the past week, or that he's got less and less certainty that they have any right to be meddling in this world's politics. There's been no sign of the enemy that brought them here.

He glances over at her again, studying her features. ]

How're we gonna find him?

[unfavoured]

[ The plural used in his words makes Parker lean her head back, eyebrow arched, picture perfect of a wordless excuse me? expression. ]

Oh, I'll find him. [ Makes sure she accentuates on the self. All she needs from him is, at best, a lookout. Unfamiliar territory. ] Tracking isn't hard. [ Well, it is, but it is a skill she has been using for over six years. ] What you're going to do isn't my problem.

[ Which is a really twisted, unsure and confusing way of saying that he can tag along as long as he doesn't get in her way, but Parker can never quite articulate those kind of feelings. ]

[decommission]

[ To his ears that twisty invitation sounds more like a dismissal. Back home he's a solo act when it comes to someone else sizing him up, he's not anyone's first pick for a partner. He keeps frowning back at her, uncertainty reading across his own features. ]

Sounds like a two person job. [ As though he knows. Everything's a two person job, at least. ] I doubt he's gonna be chomping at the bit to talk to a stranger.

[ Not to mention, she's got the demeanor of a particularly cranky mule. ]

[unfavoured]

[ To be fair, Parker would pick literally nobody as her partner, not here, not these people that all look very okay with having their brains prodded and picked apart and their thoughts broadcasted and invading others' minds.

Parker takes off the device off, throws it back at him, dismissal over nine thousand or something like that. She barely hears anything he's saying, and clearly ignores the comment about it being a two person job.

She does scoff at his suggestion that she is even going to talk to him. ]

Who said anything about even being spotted by him? [ That's not what surveillance is. ]

[decommission]

[ Jeez. Instead of doing an embarrassing juggling act he manages to catch it in one hand. It's the training he's been doing, combined with what the symbiote is doing to his body. The mind stuff has taken time to get used to, but he'd say it's worth it at least for how it's fixed the rest of him.

A beat, then a confused, suspicious look. ]

How you gonna get information from him if you don't talk to the guy?

[unfavoured]

[ Parker pulls the hood of the coat she is wearing up, sliding it over her head and framing her face so that it should be hidden enough fro surveillance cameras. Or, at least, as much as possible. She would be appreciative if she had her rebellion mask from back home but alas, she will have to make due.

She frowns at him, deciding whether she should draw him a picture or not (because she's so politically correct), but then decides against it because it would be way too much effort from her part. ]

You'll come to a conclusion soon enough. [ Or if not, well, then he's not really useful for what she has in mind. ]