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8. spam
Mira sidles up to you. She's friendly, but not excessively so, not suspiciously so. She seems like a wallflower finally trying to ease out of her shell, or some similar mixed metaphor. In the cafeteria, it's 'Hey, do you mind if I sit with you?' and a small smile. In the hallways it's falling into step, one shoulder tilted awkward and shy. 'Hi. You're so-and-so, right?' In the library she asks what you're reading; on the deck she mentions the stars are beautiful. It's mild and banal, which isn't the point. The point is getting close enough to deftly tap a sticky note on your back. Don't worry, it only says your name.
[OOC: Mira is trying to do this for everyone, so David knows where people are! She also wished to remember, meaning her own past. Instead she's going to get other people's memories - critical, trivial, or things they had forgotten. Feel free to toss her one!]
[OOC: Mira is trying to do this for everyone, so David knows where people are! She also wished to remember, meaning her own past. Instead she's going to get other people's memories - critical, trivial, or things they had forgotten. Feel free to toss her one!]
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Some people get tetchy about their space.
[ - and then she's bent over slightly, gripping the edge of the table hard, trying to deal with - the feelings had been so overwhelming, suffusing, there hadn't been any part of him-her-him that didn't feel it, no separation from it.]
Oh.
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You alright?
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[She shakes her head, half answer, half to clear it, then looks down at the table, rubs her forehead. Some people she knows wouldn't mind the things she sees, and most people she doesn't care about upsetting. She thinks she might like him, though, or at least not want him mad at her, and she isn't sure what to say.]
It's been a weird. Day. Did you make a wish.
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Yeah, I did. [He points to the plate of pancakes, and then the shield.] I guess I'm trying whether or not I actually only wanna eat pancakes, and I was missing [Steve. He misses Steve.] some stuff from back home, so now this thing's following me around.
Did you?
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Steve.
[YEah she's just gonna fill that in for you, buddy. In a tone somewhere between confusion and reverence, because - it just - she remembers falling for Darling, being obsessed and infatuated, but it wasn't the same. She's never cared about anybody that much. She gives a crooked smile, a little chagrin, a little deep ache.]
I wished to remember things.
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So you remembered Steve? [That doesn't make any sense, but he's definitely already had plenty of experience with how this flood can go kind of pearshaped on you. It doesn't necessarily mean she knows who the hell Steve is outside of this.]
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You saved him.
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Plus, he just really misses Steve, and it's sort of weird to be around all these people who have no idea who he is. Even weirder now than it had been back when he'd first shipped out, because at least then, there was no reason why the other guys in the 107th would know who the hell Steve Rogers was.]
Yeah, he used to get sick a lot. Winters were tough on him.
Sorry. Guess this is pretty weird for you.
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I used to transplant into a new cover life every couple of months.
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[Neither shame nor pride; she just was.]
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That's basically what he is, isn't it?]
I guess that explains it.
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[She smiles a little. Like - it's nice, when people have someone who cares. That's the part that sticks with her.]
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Of course I would've. He's my best friend. [His brother, the only family he's got.]
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I mean, culturally. Funerary customs.
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Which should probably disturb him.
As it is, she does clarify, and so he just looks sort of confused in that way where you're not sure if you should laugh or not.]
Why?
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[Relayed like any other unremarkable biographical fact. It's just true. But she thinks about it a lot. It's one of the only things she knows about her past, so she picks at it, dwells and returns to the implications.]
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(And really, even if he's got people to mourn him, no one's finding his body.)
So he lets out a breath, and considers how best to explain the possible scenarios that he really doesn't want to consider anyway. Steve dying had been a very real fear a long time before the Germans had marched into Poland.]
It'd depend on how it happened. [Because, you know, war going on.] We're kinda not anywhere close to home right now, so someone'd take the body back behind friendly lines and find a way to get him home. If there was nothing left to bring home, they'd probably bury an empty casket once they figured out how to break the news to people.
There'd probably be some kinda hoopla now that he's a national hero. I don't know if I could sit through something like that.
[It occurs to him suddenly that he's not sure what they'd do with the body - if they'd try to save it for tests or burn it so no one could get their hands on the serum - and the thought makes him feel more than a little sick.]
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[Mira Hidalgo: remedial empathy.]
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[Everyone's gotta die sometime, but he'd appreciate it if Steve maybe managed not to get his dumb ass killed a month after he did.]