Steve Rogers, aka Captain America (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
stark_spangled) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
ten_fwd2014-05-15 09:41 pm
stark_spangled) wrote in ten_fwd2014-05-15 09:41 pm
Entry tags:
First Entrance
He'd been to visit Peggy when he got the call from Director Fury to check in. He was making it a routine, every Tuesday afternoon when he wasn't on a mission. Then it became every Tuesday afternoon and every Saturday morning. It's funny how long it took him to work up the nerve to see her, and now it's all he can do to stay away. She's still his best gal.
He parks his bike in his usual spot in the underground garage next to the Triskelion, shoulders the bag with his gear in it, and starts walking to the elevators. He's wondering what kind of mission Fury's sending him on this time when the sun catches his eyes ... wait, where's that coming from?
He blinks hard, and when he opens his eyes ... this is not the elevator. This isn't the garage, heck, this isn't even D.C. He's in a room, some kind of restaurant or bar. People are milling about, some in uniform and others in civvies, and outside the windows ... jeepers, that's a lot of stars.
His hand tightens on the strap of his bag and he plants his feet shoulder's width apart, jaw set. He isn't sure what kind of trick this is, but if he doesn't get answers soon he's going to start demanding them.
[ooc: Hello! Steve is pre-Winter Soldier, but only just, and he has entered the room in civvies. Slacks, button-up, leather jacket, boots, his usual affair. His cowl is in the bag, along with his shield and a few other things, but by all accounts he looks like an average guy. Well, an average tall, strong guy. Any takers welcome!]
He parks his bike in his usual spot in the underground garage next to the Triskelion, shoulders the bag with his gear in it, and starts walking to the elevators. He's wondering what kind of mission Fury's sending him on this time when the sun catches his eyes ... wait, where's that coming from?
He blinks hard, and when he opens his eyes ... this is not the elevator. This isn't the garage, heck, this isn't even D.C. He's in a room, some kind of restaurant or bar. People are milling about, some in uniform and others in civvies, and outside the windows ... jeepers, that's a lot of stars.
His hand tightens on the strap of his bag and he plants his feet shoulder's width apart, jaw set. He isn't sure what kind of trick this is, but if he doesn't get answers soon he's going to start demanding them.
[ooc: Hello! Steve is pre-Winter Soldier, but only just, and he has entered the room in civvies. Slacks, button-up, leather jacket, boots, his usual affair. His cowl is in the bag, along with his shield and a few other things, but by all accounts he looks like an average guy. Well, an average tall, strong guy. Any takers welcome!]
no subject
Darcy considers this. She should probably be taking notes.
"You have seen Star Wars, right?"
no subject
She hits him with another volley of information he's not 100% sure how to process. As soon as she forms the 'S' in 'S.H.I.E.L.D.', he's prickling with familiar annoyance. It may be his organization, but they keep way too many secrets for this to be coincidence. He'd ask her if she was keeping tabs on him, but seconds later she defuses him entirely with another familiar word. Coulson.
The line between his brows deepens, and he lets his hand slip heavily from her grasp. "I take it this isn't one of your astrophysicist's projects, then? How do two SHIELD employees end up on a space ship in the 24th century?"
Beat.
"Oh. Uh," he smiles crookedly, rubbing the back of his neck. "I've been meaning to get around to it. Really, I have it written down in a book."
no subject
"Well," she says, setting down her lemon-y cocktail on the closest table. "I've been taking it as a dream. But as that's starting to get really unlikely, we can look at the facts, right?" Darcy adjusts her glasses. "Nobody here's surprised by the new arrivals, not really -- and we're definitely not the only ones. Bartender acted like I was one of many. If they're so chill about it, there has to be an explanation they know, right? A spaceship's a closed environment -- there must be some sort of processing for newcomers. Best bet's to look cute and ask an officer."
She shoots him a sideways glance. "Believe me, if my astrophysicist could do this, she'd be here to geek out." And figure out how to make sense of Star Trek science
no subject
"Could be a shared hallucination. Somebody hit us with some weaponized agent, a gas maybe, and we're all really in a padded room somewhere while they run tests," he says. There's a beat. When he turns back to her, he's smiling faintly. He's joking. Probably. "Right. Well, I'll leave the 'cute' business up to you, but I think you're onto something."
He starts searching for an officer who isn't occupied with someone else, never afraid to take the initiative when it comes to confronting strangers in a strange situation, when he suddenly looks startled. "I mean. Not that I was saying -- I just think you'd have a better chance pulling off 'cute'. Because you're, uh. You are. But I didn't mean to overstep."
Stop talking, Steve.