librarycarded | Survivor's Guilt [Open intro log!]

Survivor's Guilt [Open intro log!]

WHO: Soldat (aka CRAU Bucky Barnes) and YOU
WHERE: A public square, Over Easy, a farm, the library, and around the city!
WHAT: Arrival and trying to settle in
WARNINGS: Mostly off-screen suicidal ideation, PTSD, disassociation

I. Acclimating

Soldat had returned to Beacon, after the train. The world was dead. The lantern and the serum kept their body alive, shunted somewhere safe behind a locked door, while the World Eater ate what little light was left. They woke to a world of wild spirits and no friends and no one but themselves for company.

They spent several months there, looking for some way off that rock, and trying not to give into the urge to just smash their lantern and be done with it.

So when someone from Alexandria scooped them up, a stranger, they went.

It's been two days and they have only just manage to convince themselves to leave their hotel room, jumpy and twitchy and uncertain what to do with actual people around. They're sitting outside on a bus stop bench, dressed in several layers of hoodie over their tattered tac vest, in the evening because daylight is too bright, trying to hold still while people wander by and chewing hard on a pendant from the chain around their neck to keep from chewing their cheeks bloody, instead.

II. Over Not So Easy

They have to eat. (WE HAVE TO EAT A LOT.) They used to like being around people. (I'm sure we still do. Somewhere in here.) The cheap diner that has a soft spot for displaced people, and thus probably has people who would be the most likely to understand that they're not sure how to act around people anymore, seems like an okay idea.

So they spend a fair amount of time there on Saturday, buying meal after meal despite their limited funds until they actually do get a job, and copious amounts of hot cocoa. They're sitting in a corner booth with a good view of the door and out the window, with a book they only read half the time or a smartphone where they look for jobs that maybe don't require a lot of social interaction. Working for the Library people is starting to look better and better. (Maybe the Library needs a good cook.)

This is probably a good place for old friends to find them.

III. Exploring

Once used to the light again, at last, Soldat works on getting more used to people. People who aren't horrifying cannibal undead who want to kill them, anyway. Fortified with snacks and their most precious possessions in their many pockets, they prowl the city to try and learn the roads and sounds and the times and places it's most crowded.

They loiter around the Library, even going inside (if that's allowed), though it's kind of overwhelming in there.

They climb up to one of the rooftop farm and pause to gawp at the cows... or cow-equivalents.

They pause to pet dogs, cats, and any other domesticated or even stray animals, luring a wary one with bits of dried jerky from their pockets.

They sit in the sun in a park, eyes shut, and try to remember that it's okay to be alive even if none of their people are, anymore.

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It's when Soldat is offering wayward pets a few snacks that another pet joins them. Not a cat or a dog, or even a Targ or a cosmic wolf or a Krytis cat. It's a familiar little critter that takes up station by the dog being offered jerky, waiting as if fully expecting to be offered some trail mix.

It's Twig, the creature given to Yondu not long before their departure from the train. But he was with them long enough to know what kind of man Soldat was, that he wouldn't leave him wanting if he took a whim for a snack.

With a noise that sounds a little as if it said bi (the way that cats can sound like they're saying 'hello' more than it making a word), it makes the universal 'uppy!' gesture with its wings. Come on. Pick up, give a snack. Never mind that his person doesn't seem to be immediately around. Here's Twig out living his best life schmoozing.

That little guy looks... familiar. Soldat hesitates a moment, then reaches over to carefully scoop Twig up, cradling it against their chest. It feels the same, has the same weight and texture. But it can't be the same little creature. Can it?

"Twig?" they ask hesitantly, not sure if it will respond specifically to its name, but they need to try anyway.

Edited (wow two letters changes the whole damn meaning of the phrase...) 2022-05-20 03:07 (UTC)

Twig chitters affirmatively, and then, like a true little turd, starts to pick at the nearest pocket like he might find some delicious trail mix in there.

It is Twig, which at least greatly increases the likelihood of Yondu being around. Probably even nearby. But he's let the critter wander off without him. He'll come back later. He always does, right?

Twig makes some noises down at the dog that just got fed, like it's trying to say something important (even if the dog isn't paying attention) and then looks back to Soldat in his jerky little insecty way.

Soldat is so stunned and concerned by the confirmation that this is indeed Twig that they don't stop it from getting into said pocket and finding the bag of dried jerky in there. They don't even react beyond gently stroking Twig's leafy antennae when it looks up at them. The dog stretches up, oblivious to Twig's meaning, to try and get at the jerky.

It takes them a minute to do more than sit and have a whole variety of emotions, in fact, while Sarge yells at them in their head. (Get up! Go find him! What the hell are you waiting for!) It's only when the Asset prods them that they climb slowly to their feet.

"Twig. Where's Yondu," they ask slowly. "Can you show me where Yondu is?"

Twig retrieves some jerky from said bag and he seems to consider, before giving the dog one of the pieces and taking flight right out of Soldat's hands. With the sound of an oversized beetle he takes off down the street, intending to lead Soldat as requested but going a little bit fast for some kind of casual lead.

Not only that sometimes he line-of-sights it, ignoring that people with people legs need to people their way down the streets. Instead he just flies over some obstacles, or through some windows, and is generally the sort of nightmare 'keep up' mission that's frustrating to do.

But eventually he flies into a bar. It's an average dive bar, but one Yondu brings booze to so he's pretty safe to get shitfaced drunk there, which is what he's doing. The lonliness hits him hard sometimes, having lost as many people as he has. Sometimes he's fine. Sometimes it's nice to feel more like 'himself'. Sometimes he misses helping out the kids, the foreign amounts of trust that he was blessed with, the kind looks from genuine friends.

He's got his head on his arm at the far end of the bar, the bartender invested enough in the liquor that Yondu will bring back after missions enough that he won't let anyone pick on him (and will let him just rest like that for a bit), a mostly empty giant mug that his hand is resting on the handle of but no longer gripping because he's pretty much out.

Twig flies over to him and crawls over to his shoulder.

It's a good thing Soldat is experienced in dealing with obstacles, though their nerviness about being too close to people make it trickier than usual until they just swing up onto the awnings outside the shops and jump along those.

A few people yell at them, but for once they don't care. They just need to find Yondu.

They slide down when Twig flies into the bar, peering through the windows briefly to make sure it's not just another fly-through-- but no, there's the familiar red fin thing, and the familiar blue skin, and the coat, and--

(Hey, it's okay. Hey. I know. I know. I just.) They sniff and scrub at their eyes a moment, trying to collect themselves enough to not give Yondu too much of a fright. It's been along time since they'd seen anyone they remember, and the thought of having to start entirely from scratch again meeting people seemed utterly overwhelming.

But now there's Yondu. And that's enough to make them feel like it's all not so bad. Soldat gives their face one more swipe with a handkerchief, then pushes inside and across the bar towards their friend.

Twig sits there, and at first Yondu's face remains buried in his arm. Until the creature pulls his ear.

"AhhhHAh...." Just the wierdest drunken 'why the hell?' noise comes out of Yondu as he stirs to sitting, blinking and looking confused up until he lays eyes on a familiar (if blurry) face and general heroic stature.

"Soldat? Or... James? Booky? Bucky not-" He rubs his eye, trying to smear out the drunkeness in the midst of checking to see which rendition of this man this might be, because even with this fella seemingly at the edge of tears it feels like it's too much to hope for the best and for this to be his buddy.

"Yes," Soldat says with a kind of watery smile, stopping next to him. Actually in touching range, though they haven't reached out yet. "Yes. I don't even fucking care which name you use. It's you. You're here."

He's here and he's... drunk of his ass, but he's here. That's enough. They'd never properly imagined what finding Yondu again might be like-- it had been impossible, after all, so why daydream something that hurt so much? But now he's here.

They sniff and wipe at their cheek again with the back of the flesh hand, again. (Crybaby. You don't sound any better, and you don't even have a nose right now. No.)

"Yeah, I uh... one day on the train, one minute wakin' up next to a display with an orb in it. Confused as shit."

He mumbles as he reaches out to take Soldat's shoulder, despite knowing how he is with being touched he needs to brace himself to slide off the stool drunkenly. "Sorry I ain't proper at the moment. Needed a break. I didn't think I was ever gonna see you again."

He's unsteady on his feet, needing to be braced. But then he sees that watery look, now that he's close enough.

He just thought he'd keep losing and losing and losing. Tears have always been a trial for Yondu, and Soldat's seen the one time shit hit him in decades upon decades. He doesn't cry now, even, but seeing Soldat looking that glassy has his chest all tight.

"I didn't, either. Beacon was. Beacon was dead. I was there and it was dead. I thought. I."

Someone, maybe James or maybe even the Asset, throws the memory of Yondu petting their hair at them, and they give a little hitching sob and tug him into a hug. Soldat's backslid quite a bit on the touch issue, but right now they're going to plow through it. This deserves a little effort. Maybe it won't last long, but a little is better than nothing.

He hug pulls Yondu off balance, ankles turning so he has to lean into Soldat like an off-kilter ragdoll.

"Hey, Hey.... S'alright. I didn't think nobody I cared about was gonna be here, either. I saw goddamn Jack but that was about it. I was just waitin' for my time to finally come around again."

This time legitimately, rather than lingering in some kind of dream limbo. He cups the back of Soldat's neck and rights himself clumsily. "Don't let me hold ya back. You got every chance to do things right..." he muddles through, obviously still thinking that he's not a good thing to have around.

With some effort he finally finds his feet. It took some work.

Soldat helps, keeping him up with a steady metal arm. And once Yondu is steady, they have to let go again, trembling, knuckling at their eye with the non-metal hand. "Sorry. Sorry, I. I was alone for a few months. I'm not as good with people as I was."

(WHICH ISN'T SAYING MUCH, SINCE YOU WEREN'T GREAT WITH PEOPLE BEFORE.)

"Are you okay?" they ask, ignoring James for the moment.

"For a few months?"

Holy hell, that'd explain it. Where'd he end up that he was all alone somewhere. Lucky that somehow their paths crossed again in any way. He does his best to try and pull his mind to a more lucid place.

"I ain't ever been okay. I don't know what happened to the girls-" Raven and Kyoko "-or nothin'. Pretty sure Twig only came with me 'cause I had his little ball thing on me before I got took. Left all my other shit in my room." So, unfortunately, he has no trinkets left. Who the hell knows where they ended up. But he still has the psychic resistance crystal, and he still has the darkness pull that Than made him.

"Let's get the hell out of here. I don't wanna have this conversation-" he makes a general 'around them' kind of gesture. Somewhere private would be better.

Their expression twists a little; they don't know what happened to anyone, either, and their little ghost friend didn't even come with them. They know the feeling, and the ache in their chest is as much sympathy as their own grief.

"Yeah. Yeah, let's. Go. Where are you staying? I'll follow you." Soldat doesn't have their own place yet, waiting on finding a proper place to settle, some kind of job. Neither one had seemed like something they were ready for.

But they're going to. Yondu is here, someone is here, that makes it seem slightly less impossible. They give his shoulder a little squeeze with one hand, then let him lead the way.

He's slowly registering that himself. That Soldat is here, and he's not quite as alone. Even if, emotionally, they're a little worse for the wear. Being trapped with ones own thoughts is a hell of a way to backslide.

He has to stumble a little, fishing in his pocket to pull out a holographic device. One hand he's using to try and type something with his thumb, the other he's reaching to grab stools and chair backs to keep from passing out.

"Orderin' a ride, I ain't makin' it just walkin'. Goin' to my place. That's private enough."

Once he's outside he grabs a pole and fights off feeling nauseous. Twig is still on his shoulder, so he pulls out the ball he's usually kept in to put him back in it for now.

Soldat hovers a little, worriedly, not quite crowding but definitely kind of in Yondu's space. Once or twice they almost reach out to touch, but pull their hand back again.

"Is it far? This. This city is pretty big. I haven't explored it all yet." Maybe that should be next on the list. Maybe exploring will help them figure out what to do with themselves, here. (Not a bad idea. Good. See? Even Asset agrees. It just wants better intel for proper opsec. And we don't? DON'T KID YOURSELVES, WE'RE PROBABLY GOING TO BE DOING WHATEVER YONDU'S DOING.)

A point. Maybe even a correct one.

He makes the call, basically renting a ride to get to his place.

"It ain't that far. Most of anywhere worth goin' too I usually walk to. Figured I'd walk home when I was done bastin'."

But now he'd gotten up way to early, has to lean against a light post to keep his balance. "There's this one lil' section of nowhere, filled with warrior clans and the like? That's where I picked to settle down. Felt right somehow. Did you just get here?"

He wonders how long he's been stuck here. It makes sense that without people it'd wear on Soldat. Progress had been little bit by little bit.

"Sounds like a you-place. A little rowdy, a little crowded. Like your old ship, right?" Soldat paces around, not quite able to hold still while Yondu looks so unsteady, but not quite able to touch him again, either. "It's been a few days. Four days. I've been. I've been trying to get used to it being light again. And having people around."

They look up, at the clear sky and the shining sun. "The sun's pretty nice. Actually."

"Yeah. Kinda. Well... not so much like my ship. Like Ravagers in general. People got a code of honor they stick to. Them kinds of things."

Yondu looks up then, noting the blue sky. He'd always like the look of streaks of galaxy, jarring swirls of purple-blue gas trailing into fathomless night. Spiderwebs of energy against black. But boy, is a blue sky nice. And also hard on a drunken head. He rubs between his eyes.

"Been a couple of months. Didn't think I'd see any of y'all again. Save for Jack of all the goddamn people."

Soldat reaches out, pulls back, then reaches out again and finally puts a hand on Yondu's back. "Well. I'm not going anywhere. I'll. Maybe I'll come move in near where you are. I don't have a place yet. Or a job." And they need a job. They need something to focus with, they know.

(Wasn't kidding about maybe somewhere needing a cook. I'm pretty sure nowhere needs a cook, Sarge.)

"You need a spot to sleep in, it's big enough. Bigger'n where we'd been stayin'. Lots of plants, though." Why, because Yondu'd been practicing. There was no shortage of greenery.

"Plenty of jobs, though. Hopin' learnin' to travel from universe to universe'll with the library'll help me in the future." But he's not really together enough to sputter on about his plans. He simply didn't have the brain power for it.

"Yeah?" Soldat had kind of been considering the library. But only kind of. Also, they aren't sure they can turn down the offer. Staying with Yondu, even just sleeping on his floor, seems right then to be the perfect decision.

They manage a pat, with the hand on his back. "We'll talk about it later. When you're sobered up. Okay?"

It's nicer on this inside than the outside when they get there. It's no slum by a longshot, but it's not a building made for fancy people. It's about as utilitarian as Yondu likes, a bunch of brick painted in beiges and old heavy wooden doors and the like. Old enough that some have graffiti carved into them and a nick from a bladed weapon or two.

It takes him a while to fumble his way in, having to try three different keys despite them being distinct shapes (he went for the traditional style of lock, despite knowing how easy they can be to pick, because he didn't feel like fuckin' messing with it more than that). But when he opens the door? One whole side of the main apartment area is overgrowing with Yondu's weird half-baked and mutated plants. Pretty, but a testament to how he's been a little weird with those void powers.

"Make yourself at home. Somethin' over there probably has fruit if you're hungry. Should be edible to humans, we can stomach much of the same stuff." He's doing a little better. The cot doesn't feel like a journey like it would have fifteen minutes ago.

It looks comfortable, to Soldat. Like home, almost. A home they barely remember. (I remember, a little.) It took actual effort to keep from plucking the keys from Yondu's hands and doing it themselves, though, the fumbling and multiple tries making them wince a little.

Once inside, they relax some, out of the open. They drift over to the plants, metal hand coming up to gently touch a leaf here and there. "You've been busy," they comment with a little smile. "It's nice. In here."

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Survivor's Guilt [Open intro log!]

III. Exploring - A Twig

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I can timeskip us next tag

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Apologies! Had a bunch of family stuff going on.

no worries, I went even longer...