🧢 (capn) wrote in crownplazaic, @ 2021-08-21 11:41:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | !log/thread, !network, natasha romanoff, steve rogers |
Who: Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff.
What: Back, again, for the first time.
Where: Outside, in front of the hotel.
When: 8/21, early morning.
Status: In Progress.
Warnings: TBD.
Absolutely nothing made sense right now. He'd processed what had been spoken to him over the phone and read the words displayed across the laptop screen. Everything had been heard loud and clear, and given the intergalactic caper Rogers had only recently completed, there was little that seemed far-fetched to the soldier these days. And yet, right here, right now, nothing made sense. Sure, the Avengers may have had to bend the rules of the time/space continuum to save the day, but Steve had done meticulous work to clean up that mess. He'd done that, and even managed to find a life for himself. It felt like mere minutes ago that he was comforted by a whistling tea kettle, an old record and the girl he'd travelled decades to find again. Now, just as soon as he had found her, as soon as he'd gotten that life Tony kept telling him to get, it was gone. Again. Now there was only silence. Not in the dreaded, eternal sense. Just an empty hotel lobby and a laptop that was quickly losing power. In the back of Steve's mind, the notion that this could all be an intricate layer to some never-ending loop began to smother an otherwise healthy mental process. Steve felt a narrowing in his throat as his breath grew shallow.
Before allowing himself to panic, he'd survey his options. To his right, a set of elevators that would likely transport Steve to whatever answers could be found regarding the hotel accommodations. But he wasn't ready to sort through all of that yet. Instead, he'd follow the light that shined in through cracks to his left. Steps became a gallop, sending Steve forward, pushing the front doors open with a burst, charging out and down the first few stairs until his momentum slowed to a halt. Hands steadied themselves at the knees before Steve continued down the steps. Deep breaths allowed as much fresh air in as possible as he took in the front lawn and surrounding plant life.
"Okay, Rogers." He'd softly whisper to himself. "There's got to be an explanation for this."