08 | It must be getting early; Clocks are running late

[sinistral]

WHO: the Soldier (sinistral) and you
WHERE: various Temba locations
WHAT: while everyone hunkered down in the warrens, the Soldier was sent elsewhere; now it's time to come back
WHEN: a few days after the general population emerges from the underground
WARNINGS: none; will update if that changes

---

TEMBA
→ Excavation: for Billy Kaplan;

The first thing the Soldier did on waking in Temba, sore and tired and with the familiarly, infuriatingly vague idea that he'd been elsewhere, was to check to make sure he was intact, or near enough to it. But the first thing after that was to make his way through ruined streets to the building Billy and his brother claimed as their home. The sight that met his eyes made something twist and drop out of the bottom of his stomach, a sensation he immediately tried to ignore. It, and the implied emotion, were unneeded.

"Billy?" he called out, circling toward the wall that seemed most intact. The ceiling was a complete loss, but he couldn't tell from this angle how much damage the structure had absorbed, and how much it had caved. He couldn't tell either if Billy or his brother was around; he resolved to find out. "Tommy?"

→ Exploration: open to all;

The Soldier hadn't been one to rely heavily on the amenities of the community. He generally preferred to forage, and to repurpose things he found in so doing. Years of living on the run with few resources prepared him pretty well for losing the bulk of his supplies when the volcanic activity apparently swept through the towns. But years of living on the run also had him hiding small caches of supplies here and there in ruined buildings. If he was lucky maybe one or two of his stashes hadn't been completely destroyed.

(He never had that kind of good luck but it was a nice thought.)

The weather seemed like it would hold at least, making it a decent day for exploring the rubble of ruined buildings. Maybe he'd luck into finding something useful. Or maybe he'd just end up doing the heavy lifting for someone who needed it. At the very least the sounds from the building in front of him didn't seem like the predatory animals he'd seen on Temba's outskirts. Still, a hand strayed close to the knife at his hip, just in case.

→ Examination: network text to Cal Kestis;

I could use a mechanic. If you've the time.

→ Explanation: network text open to all;

Anyone know if this was a planned redecorating, or is apocalypse chic just in now and I missed the memo?

→ Wildcard;

Open to other ideas. Please reach out to me at sometimesamuse or via PM for plotting needs. As always while I write starters in prose I'm happy to match brackets if that's your preference.

Comments

[in_extremis]

Tony looked very skeptical of this refutation; not because he didn't expect them to have different tastes, that much seemed self-evident, but because the Soldier then just kept on saying he didn't like things and offered nothing to disprove Tony's theory. "Listen, there it is again, we can already put the ranking system into the ranking system," he said, animated so that maybe the Soldier would stop looking at him like that, laying a flat hand out at his side about elbow height to establish his chart. "We can start with something neutral. Like a breathable atmosphere. You're not going to say you like it (you don't like anything), you probably barely ever think about it, but it keeps you alive and breathing, so in a purely objective way we've all got to be a little bit of a fan of the atmosphere. Pure neutral. So ranking system is down here somewhere, in the ranks." He illustrated this by dropping his hand, very mathematically, down closer to his hip, then eyeing the Soldier for some indication that it should be higher or lower as his hand wavered. He abandoned exacting this level any further before he got a clear answer, turning his palm out to indicate all of the space in between his two established levels that could be filled out, with things that the Soldier liked more than Tony's perfect system. For example, "Okay, you don't need a pony, but I don't need a blowjob either, and I'd put that pretty high, I'm not going to turn one down," and he brought his hand up over his head, up in the 'actually likes' quadrant of the chart that he had access to. "And I don't need a cape," he added, which admittedly had to be lower on his ranking, bringing his arm down, "but a good friend thought I should have one."

[sinistral]

"Why are you so determined to know how I rank... anything?" The question came colored not with scorn but pure curiosity. "Doesn't it all come down to personal opinion anyway?" He had no objections to Tony's system, he just didn't know why the other man seemed to care so much. It wasn't like his opinion mattered much to anyone else, unless it came down to those things at which he particularly excelled. And unfortunately he hated having those particular skills.

He made a face at even the idea of blowjobs; likely Tony saw it before he could school his expression back to neutral. The Soldier had absolutely no interest in those activities, and he knew it made him weird. What was wrong with him, indeed. He was broken, and probably beyond fixing.

"Tony," he began, then shook his head and tried again. "I'm not good at being anyone's friend. I don't know how."

[in_extremis]

Personal opinion was exactly what Tony thought they were trying to work out, so his hand came out in a tense clutch at the air for the Soldier to make that final connection that he was so close to. Maybe this whole venture wasn't as altruistic as he had been telling himself, though. The energy went out of his hand, making him drop it then withdraw it into the blanket where he could hug himself securely in the cocoon for a beat, focus dropping guiltily to the floor. He could practically hear Jon at his side, sighing and grumbling 'Try to listen, Tony'. He shouldn't have needed the Soldier to tell him they weren't friends that many times.

"Yeah, okay," he muttered, letting the blanket slip from his shoulders to bundle it back into the rest of the package, spilling over the sides now as Tony lifted the whole thing back up to his chest. "I'll make sure this gets to someone who needs it," he promised. He did at least get more than he came here for; he could assure Billy that his heartbreak was premature.

[sinistral]

He thought the conversation had been going well, until Tony seemed to withdraw. It stung like a blow, more evidence that the Soldier deserved his current life as an outcast. He couldn't even warn someone without it backfiring on him. And now Tony apparently disliked him enough to hate even the blanket he'd so enthusiastically claimed moments earlier.

"I gave it to you. Not to a random someone. I thought you could need it. Maybe." See? He was trying to be nice. It wasn't Tony's fault that the Soldier seemed to choose every wrong conversation option. He was really bad at interpersonal interactions, to the point that he probably needed to just ask Billy to be a translator for him.

"What's wrong with me isn't your fault," he admitted quietly, not quite able to meet Tony's eyes. It was easier to pretend to be what HYDRA made him, even though he didn't enjoy it. "I don't know how to be anyone's friend, never mind a 'good' one. It's not you. I know I'm just going to disappoint you. Maybe I'm trying to save you the trouble."

[in_extremis]

The emphatic correction was enough to make Tony clutch the package more possessively, having turned it instantly from an act of scavenging that the Soldier seemed to be shaming him over when it was revealed, to an intentional offering that Tony wasn't very used to. He wasn't exactly easy to buy for. On the other hand, he was very easy to guilt, and while it hadn't occurred to him that anything about the Soldier was his fault, the Soldier independently volunteering that assurance did make it sound kind of like his fault. He definitely wasn't helping.

"Do I look like I have to be saved?" he asked, irritable in this new anxiety, and immediately regretted it enough to add, "Don't answer that." He wasn't looking cover shoot ready, he didn't really want to hear the Soldier's honest opinion on how miserable he looked. "Nobody knows how to be friends," he continued, which might have also been regrettably revealing, because there were definitely a few people that Tony knew who seemed to effortlessly get along with anyone. What he could claim with confidence was, "There's not exactly a manual, or a class you can take. I pay people. I know how to do that. If my best friend isn't on the payroll, I don't see him until I can manipulate him into a new contract. Your turn. It better be more embarrassing, you're the one that's got us in these trenches."

[sinistral]

A blanket was a useful thing! Even if Tony just cut it up for shop rags, it would be useful. And wasn't that better than just taking up time and space in the other man's day? In the Soldier's mind, the math worked.

But as far as Tony's explanation went, it left him with a little better picture of the man. He didn't get allof it, especially why Tony seemed to try so hard. But he understood that Tony held the belief that this was important.

"I had orders," he began once Tony had finished, "when I was deployed. When I wasn't deployed, I was put in storage. Friends didn't exist in that life. And I don't really remember anything else." Surely Tony would have no doubts about how broken the Soldier's measure was. Surely he'd see that he had much better options than a half feral former assassin.

[in_extremis]

"You're changing the parameters, that's not fair, I could have told you all kinds of embarrassing things that were done to me, now I'm the only asshole," Tony complained. To him, the Soldier was avoiding the immediate reality, so Tony probably should have led with, "And you're dwelling." The soldier had been the one to point out that they should be letting this stuff go. That was a nasty loophool if it was only supposed to apply to things they enjoyed, and the Soldier conveniently didn't enjoy anything.