revivalproject | Steve Rogers

Entry tags:

Steve Rogers | OTA

WHO: Steve and You?
WHERE: Agrii ship in the water area
WHAT: A pool party!!
WHEN: Around debates time
WARNINGS: Not sure, will edit!

Steve has been trying to get in touch with the Agrii for days now without any luck. So far it's mostly just been hanging out by the water. And a few of them can really hold their breath a long time, it seems. They seem uneasy if he swims too far, so he sticks by the shallower bit of the pool for now.

If nothing else, the lush greenery is a nice change of scenery, and some days there's all this bountiful delicious food, such that he hasn't had better since before arriving here.

So, one day, after fruitlessly searching around by himself and not finding any better leads, he invites a few fellow He-Rows over for what appears to be a pool party. It's open to anyone who happens to make it through the thick botany, and he's definitely trying to encourage the younger Agrii to come play with them. Food and drink are just from the mess hall, and the games are simple ones like a hand-drawn deck of cards, and sitting on each other's shoulders trying to knock off your opponent.

If anyone wants to play that game with him, he'd definitely make a better root than pusher - don't worry, he'll be sure to keep his balance, so long as your character wants to keep playing.

Partway through he gets tasked with going back to get more ice or snacks or something, so feel free to bump into him then or in his yellow speedo (that he most definitely did not pick out himself) and towel, gathering supplies. You'll definitely score an invitation if you ask.

Then, when the 'party' starts winding down, Steve's maybe a little disappointed in not having made much progress, though he's sure a few of the younger Agrii might be coming around to them, so it's not entirely a fruitless endeavor. But he's gotten his hands on a piece of paper and graphite, and he might even ask your character to stand still for a second, as they look really nice under this foliage, and it'll just take a few minutes, if they don't mind.

[ OoC: Feel free to respond to any of the things Steve is doing or throw up your own toplevel so other people can tag you at the 'party'! ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"That does sound like a good time," Steve answers. "And sorry - I invited everyone, but I guess you're the only one here at the moment who wants to play." And the only one not fashionably late.

"It's not my fault, it's not like I meant to uninclude anyone. Though - I think maybe it might've helped if we had extra swimsuits for everyone."

It was probably a very different image than whatever foxhole Steve was playing the game in, which made the completely different deck he had offered thematically appropriate, and left Tony still squirming slightly as he worked up, "They're probably just waiting their turn. Do you think they'd be here for the pee-water? Listen, this humble thing, it's only working against you." He was settling then, finding his smirk again and not holding the towel so tightly as he explained, "You're trying to solve the wrong problem. It's not the swimsuits, it's the example that you're setting. If you just went without, no one would need anything, everyone would be having a great time."

It's definitely a lot more glamorous than a couple of guys out in the trenches playing, but, to be fair, he'd also never considered what it'd be like to visit the coasts of Sicily and actually play as opposed to playing with his fellow soldiers in wartime, so it's not like he felt like he was missing out on anything.

"That theory might work if more people had shown up," he says. "Which means everyone's expectation is already that they should have a swimsuit. You're free to test your theory and start us off," he suggests.

"Ah-ah, you're doing it again," Tony said, stretching out his legs and lifting his chin with academic confidence. "You're not listening, the humble thing. You're the example, Captain Handsome, all around golden boy, lead and they shall follow. If I do it, I get a tabloid cover, I get everybody talking about me, sure, wins all around, but the talk is more about how I should be in jail for indecency, there's consequences I deserve and I'm too spoiled to even realize that, that's why I'm like this. You want another bet? Bet you that question I'm not supposed to ask you. You choose the weapon, whatever you can think of, but my bet is that even if you spit on one of these people, they'll thank you."

"Well, that's not what I asked you not to ask me." He couldn't even think of the formula for the question - wouldn't it be more like, what Tony thought people thought of Steve? But he already knew the answer to that. For some reason Tonies tend to think that everyone puts Steve on a pedestal. And, at least from Steve's point of view, Tonies think that Steve needs to be knocked down a few pegs.

"Also, that's disgusting. I would never spit on them, I don't even know where you get thoughts like this."

"No--the question is the bet, keep up," Tony corrected, hand out flat to make his point, then quickly snatched back as he accepted he might have been talking too fast. It wasn't like Steve was going to take a bet like that in the first place, especially if pushing it meant examining where Tony was getting his thoughts about where Steve could spit. He cleared his throat and muttered, "Forget it. The thing on the station, whatever that was, it was a fluke, is all."

"I'm not still mad about that," he answers quickly. "But. It's nice to know you'd have my back." But then, he says: "But I'm not - doing a bet. Because I don't - want to spit on anyone." Gross. The only place he wants to spit is in the sink. Really, he has no idea where Tony comes up with these ideas sometimes.

Ultimately, that attitude was why everyone trusted Steve so much; he couldn't simply be cajoled into doing something so degrading, so Tony raised a hand in surrender, considering his point made. With a sharp nod, he did welcome, "Any time, Winghead," flapping his surrendering hand to dismiss his loyalty as foregone so he could redirect their focus with a jab down at the cards. "Except with this, I can't believe you're letting me have this, it's like they didn't teach you math in the stone age." Primly, he gathered his trick and laid out more cards.

Steve doesn't know what Tony means by letting him have something. As far as he knows, he's just doing things he wants to do, if that benefits Tony, all the better.

And if he means letting Tony have the credit for just being a friend to him - well, maybe Steve's gotten the impression from the other one that being friends with Steve is more difficult than it appears on first glance.

"Can't expect me to understand newfangled institutions like math," he responds instead.

"You could have told me you were playing with tarot cards and betting with donkeys in Italy," Tony sniffed, "I would have gone easier on you." Lifting his collected cards slightly, he explained carefully, "Remember, I've got three of the twos in here, that means there's only one left. You can think of them like donkeys, if it'll help." His performance was belied from the start by the tug of his smirk and regular glance over the frame of his glasses at Steve, waiting for him to get irritated enough.

"Sure," he says, "I remember the rules, you don't have to tell me twice." He puts a card down to pick some up into his pile.

"You played with your mom? I think mine would've loved the game."

Evidently, Tony hadn't quite found the boundary yet, and had taken a breath to try another push to get under Steve's skin when his jaw clicked shut again for him to swallow instead with a small frown, then shake of his head. "She played," he corrected. "I could see them, sometimes, from that window in the hall, you know, where--" Steve hadn't been in the Mansion, so the context wasn't going to help, and Tony fumbled what he thought was an easy diversion. Instead, he had to finish, "I was a terrible party guest then, couldn't hold my liquor. You played cards with your mom?"

"Sure I did," he answers, "when she had time. She taught me everything I know." He doesn't know what Tony means when he says that he didn't play with his mother, but Steve had also imagined that they'd have played a long time before Tony started drinking.

Unless...

His eyes cloud over a little.

"I'm not gonna go easy on you," he says, instead. If Tony doesn't want to talk about it, he won't.

Tony's soft smile was very brief, the affection for an image of that young woman that Tony had only seen in photos trying to show a beautiful, serious toddler how to shuffle cards quickly overtaken by a sharpened slant of Tony's smirk. "She teach you that, too?" he asked. "Cold. Let's get her in this game, kick some of these kids' asses for information."

"Of course she did," says Steve, shuffling the cards. "Couldn't let me lose any money we didn't have." And she probably assumed he'd be more of a gambler than he is. The only risks he takes are with his life. "Scopa," he calls out, snatching a couple cards.

It must have worked, because Steve always seemed happy to play, so he clearly had a good relationship with the cards. Maybe the one Tony knew back home was always letting him win at poker. Tony suddenly felt sure enough to guess, "And you always treated her with your winnings," eyebrows raised expectantly to hear just what that meant in the dark ages.

"Sure, if I got anything," he responds. "Never put a lot of money on the table, so I never took anything big home. I guess my biggest bet was," he gestures towards himself. "Well, all of this."

And that he'd gambled with his life. At least it paid off.

Looking surprised, Tony had to ask, "You did that for her?" That wasn't a factor in Steve's decision that they had discussed before.

"What? No, she was already gone. I mean - I don't know. I guess part of me wanted to make her proud. But. I did it for me. And because I thought I could help the country."

That sounded more like the kind of reason Steve would reliably give for just about anything--he also said he kept his underwear drawer so organized for the good of the country. What Tony wasn't so used to hearing, and what he had to gently push, was, "You don't do a lot for you." That this one big gamble had worked out so spectacularly should have made him a hedonist.

No, he doesn't. "I do enough for me," he says. It's not true, but, it's not like there's anything he can indulge in here. Not that he isn't already.

"I'm playing cards with you, aren't I?"

"Ah-huh..." Tony uttered dubiously, mouth left open to slide his skeptical tongue along his too sharp for that canine. "This is entirely for your personal pleasure, that's why you approached me and I'm finding it so easy to hold your attention."

"You don't think I give you enough of my attention?" he asks, looking over at Tony dubiously. "I'm always spending time with you."

"You are?" Tony replied, looking genuinely surprised, and maybe his perspective was a little skewed because after a moment, the strongest accusation he could produce in return was, "You went to get ice without me." He held his lips pursed with his chin raised slightly as he delicately played his cards, like he had made a solid argument and couldn't be budged.

Steve raises a brow. "You wanted to come with me, dressed in nothing but a swimsuit, to go get ice for the party, just to come back?"

He looks Tony in the eye and then settles back a bit. "Okay, spill. What's the problem?"

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