silentspringlogs | [ota] February/March Catch-All

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[ota] February/March Catch-All

Who: Chell and her new neighbors!
When: Some February, mostly March
Where: Around and about!
Open/Closed: Noted in starters
Applicable warnings: Feb TDM warnings may apply; descriptions of agoraphobia. Anything that comes up will be in the comment headers.

a. The Errands - OTA, early February

Once the smoke clears, and people are allowed out of their houses again, Chell is faced with a brand new test: grocery shopping.

It's not like she's never done it before. She knows she has. Her memories of life before waking up in Aperture may be hazy in places, but she certainly knows that she used to go to the store and buy food and probably even make it sometimes, although she also has a feeling she used to eat a lot of microwave meals. That's not an option here. And her household has gone through most of the easy-to-prepare stuff like canned food during the lockdown, so now she needs to go restock.

And the thing is -- the thing is, Chell has faced down giant mashy plates with spikes and arrays of turrets training their sights on her and bombs and floors covered in toxic waste. A grocery store should be no problem. And yet, faced with the aisles of food, the people, the constant mechanical whirr and ching of the cash registers, Chell is finding herself uncharacteristically overwhelmed. She can't see the exits when she's trying to pick between oatmeal and cream of wheat. Everyone else seems to be moving with certainty and purpose where she's a welter of indecision and nerves. What if she picks the wrong thing? What if everything is poisoned? What if something comes through the door? What if she throws up? What if--?

All of which has resulted in Chell standing in front of the freezer case for at least five minutes, looking more like a deer in the headlights than a shopper. She moves out of the way when other customers need to get past her, but she doesn't seem quite able to shake herself into either picking something or moving along herself.

b. The Zoomies - mid-March, OTA

It's been several weeks of adjustment, and the idea that Chell doesn't need to be running for her life and probably isn't going to be put into cryosleep unexpectedly is starting to sink in. That hot urgency that propelled her through testing chamber after testing chamber is being replaced with a cool, prickly unease that never entirely goes away.

Unease, and boredom, particularly as the weather gets nicer and there's reason to be outside. Mid-March finds her in the park pretty regularly, despite the masses of pigeons, power-walking laps around the pond and the edge of the park. Occasionally -- very occasionally, and usually only if she thinks she won't be observed, because she's already gotten some odd looks for it from the locals -- her energy gets the better of her and she breaks into a sprint for a few dozen meters, her skirt fluttering indecorously and her jacket flapping behind her. Then she brakes to a walk again, breathing hard.

Who'd have thought that a whole town could still feel as enclosed as a salt mine?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Chell jumps and turns, raising the rock defensively. There's no knife in evidence this time, though, and with slightly less adrenaline in her system she can finally track one important piece of information: the man with the pillow tucked under his arm only has one arm. So if he's holding the pillow, he can't easily hold a knife.

Okay. Okay. This doesn't seem like an immediate threat, but he sure does seem morose. After a moment, Chell slowly puts down the rock and then displays her empty hand. Nobody's armed now, right?

Then she displays the picture, assuming that he'll be able to get the gist of it even from the top of the stairs -- points at it quizzically, points at him, points back at the picture. Who are you and why are you in this photograph with her?

Where did she even get the rock from? Whatever. He seems interested enough to stare and squint, but doesn't ask in the end. He starts down the stairs, grunting when she points out the photograph. His dog tags read his full name, James Buchanan Barnes and she'll be able to get a good look at it as he makes his way past her and steps into the lounge.

"Yeah. I know. Congratulations," he says dryly. She won the lottery here, stuck with the asshole of the neighbourhood. Look, he didn't choose any of this, and clearly neither did she.

"I'm your man now." Tossing the pillow onto the edge of the couch, he rubs his face a few times tiredly. He realises she might have a hundred questions, and he's not exactly being fully cooperative and eager and enthusiastic about this sudden new arrangement. He'll warm up to her eventually. For now he doesn't fully trust her. And truth be told he doesn't much like the idea of a complete stranger living with him. Figuring him out. Seeing him like this.

"When did you get here?"

She steps aside, keeping distance between the two of them. Their detente doesn't seem steady enough to survive getting into each other's personal space too much.

Dog tags. That means military, right? She frowns at him. Aperture took military contracts, didn't they? Or at least wanted them, if Black Mesa didn't get them first. Maybe it's another set of tests for the army or something. And he -- James? -- he's tired of it. In that much, she can relate.

To the question, she blinks, shrugs, and waves her finger and thumb in front of her forehead. Then she mimes writing and raises her eyebrows. This conversation is going to be pretty information light if she just has to mime things.

Oh.

Oh...

"Um... hold on." Teetering somewhere between awkward and embarrassed, Bucky moves to the kitchen and grabs the shopping list pad that's magneted to the fridge. There's proper stationery upstairs but they'll probably have to go out and buy more. She might need to go through entire notebooks to have a conversation. Or at least have an entire notebook of pre-written responses and questions she can flip around to.

She gets half the pad and the red pen placed in front of her. He holds onto the other half and the black pen.

name = Bucky
military sign only
I will learn yours
are you hurt?

No expectation that they will have to be penpals permanently. But no promises on how fast he can start to communicate with her either.

Okay, progress. She eyes him uncertainly when he takes his own half of the notebook, but then ducks her head to start writing before she even sees his notes.

WHERE AM I WHO'S IN CHARGE

When he does show her what he's written, she adds:

MUTE NOT DEAF WHY DID YOU ATTACK

Okay he didn't actually attack her but he did pull a knife.

Edited 2024-03-16 15:57 (UTC)

Sweetwater in Maryland
its 1960

When she is is just as important as where she is. As for who is in charge, his eyebrows furrow and he hesitates. He realises he doesn't have to write back, he could just tell her. But he doesn't know exactly who is in charge. He's still convinced it's HYDRA. But people here either genuinely don't know about HYDRA or everyone around him is trying to gaslight him. Again. And it's difficult to talk about HYDRA when they're supposed to play the all-American nuclear family part. It's difficult to have those affiliations, even though he's renounced them time and time again.

you broke into my bedroom
put your clothes in my wardrobe
didnt set off any booby traps
photoshopped yourself into my photos
slept in my bed

Shifty eyes. Squinting. What's the normal reaction to a home invasion? Invite her to stay in his bed and offer her breakfast?

trust no one

Chell stares at that list of accusations and finally writes:

NO???

Just no to all of that, dude, what the fuck.

The fact of him including the date strikes her as weird -- that's not a normal thing to put in an introduction, unless you've just woken someone out of cryosleep. Wait, 1960?

ARE THEY TESTING TIME TRAVEL?

Who's "they?" Doesn't entirely matter. She assumes there's a "they," and that it's not a "she." Because she let Chell go.

Unless she didn't. Unless she let Chell think the elevator was going to take her to the surface, and really it was taking her to another test. Or Maryland.

I DIDNT BREAK IN I JUST WOKE UP SOMEONE PUT ME THERE NOT MY CLOTHES

He looks at her like something might be moving on her face. What does she mean by 'no'? Yesterday she was not in the photos. Today she is in the photos. The only reason he isn't stomping his foot and calling her out is because he knows he's been an unreliable narrator in his own life story. He doesn't fully trust his own grip on reality. Maybe she was in the photos all along and he just-- well. He doesn't know. But his mind does abnormal things to protect him from all these cumulative damages.

maybe
thought it was 2024
but I dont know

Far be it from him to convince her that he's the leading authority on the fabric of their current reality. He's still trying to figure out if the last 65 years happened at all or which part of what he thinks has happened is just part of a long cryo fever dream.

ok
same
but 3 months ago

She looks back at him with equal annoyed bemusement. What does he want her to say? That she didn't show up with no idea what's going on?

SO WE WERE BOTH PUT HERE ? I THINK IT'S LATER THAN 2024

Can't be sure, though, can she? She frowns at their two notepads, two halves of what barely counts as a conversation, and bends her head to write for a minute.

MY NAME IS CHELL. THE LAST THING I REMEMBER IS THE APERTURE FACILITY. WILL THEY STOP ME IF I LEAVE?

is it?

He's willing to take what she's saying at face value. It's not the craziest thing he would have heard so far. And time travel hasn't been that weird since, well. Since that's how they saved the world, the last time he saw Steve.

dont know aperture
camera company?
dont do anything stupid
mad scientist doc

There's no way to talk about Doctor Norman that sounds less crazy or conspiratorial, but he wouldn't wish that reconditioning fate upon anyone. Not least of which because being strapped to a chair and electrocuted is kind of doubly traumatic for him, much as he pretends it doesn't affect him anymore.

AI, PORTAL TECH, SHOWER CURTAINS

uhhhh can they focus on the important part though?

MAD SCIENTIST ? ? ?

Shower curtains? Bucky tips his head, still not sure what 'aperture' is exactly, and also trying to join the dots between those three things. It's starting to sound like some kind of smart home feature where people can... maybe portal out of their showers and have some machine autonomously draw their shower curtains...?

He has no interest in talking about his time spent with Doctor Norman - or anyone else's time, really. So he goes back to what he'd written before and underlines:

dont do anything stupid

Like what? Chell signs, annoyed.

DEFINE STUPID

He doesn't need to know how to understand sign to be able to read annoyance.

attacking the locals
asking too many questions
talking about the internet
sympathise with Nazis

His perpetually furrowed eyebrows deepen as he tears off the paper, lets her read his scrawl - look it's not as easy writing with one hand without the other hand to hold the paper still - and continues his seemingly random list of sins on the next sheet.

stop pretending to be a God fearing American
question or subvert authority
dye your hair pink
take laxatives with sleeping pills

Struggling to think if he's missed anything...

making escape plans on the pager
using the pager in general
eyes and ears everywhere

any questions?

Chell's annoyance dissipates as he scribbles. She wasn't expecting such specificity!

Still a little cautious about getting in his personal space, she reaches out to take the first sheet, and mimes putting it in her pocket, raising her eyebrows inquisitively. Can she keep this?

NO QS I CAN DO THAT

She frowns at the list and then realizes she does have a question, actually.

WHAT DOES A GOD FEARING AMERICAN ACT LIKE??

Well. She's going to find out that he's a man of two extremes. Either he will be excruciatingly vague and she has to decipher what all those grunts, chuffs, growls and groans are supposed to mean. Or she'll find him following directions to a tee. But having a sustained, semi-normal conversation, either written or signed or spoken - that's going to be quite a challenge for him.

He nods once, firmly, when she pockets the sheet. No idea what she's going to do with it. It was just a random dump of... recommendations to keep her head down and try and make it through this place in one piece. He didn't even expect her to take him all that seriously, truth be told.

Her question has him leaning back a bit, tilting his head, pursing his lips. What does a God fearing American act like? It's a weird question. One nobody's asked him before. This time he gives it some thought before he starts writing, so as he tears off that sheet and starts with a new list - although it is still a jumble of Sunday school, pre-WWII propaganda, Sweetwater conditioning, the man everybody else thought Steve Rogers was, and the man Bucky wishes he could be - it hopefully seems a little more coherent than the last list.

be kind to your neighbour
accept others differences
stand up for what you believe in
help and protect people
be fair honest and humble
go to church on Sundays
call your mom and tell her everything
work hard and dont cause trouble
and dont be an asshole

Of course, this is not the world he'd come from. It certainly isn't what Brooklyn looks like in 2024. But it may have never been what Brooklyn looked like in 1943, or before. It may have been what Uncle Sam told him he was killing other people for, what he would have liked to have died for. But it's not what Bucky went back to. And sadly, Sweetwater might be perpetuating more of these false comforts than any place or time Bucky has been through, as manufactured and plastic as the world around them is.

Some of those honestly seem ... not so bad? She's got no problem with being kind to her neighbors, or accept others' differences, or working hard.

On the other hand, not causing trouble might be tougher. Also:

OK I DON'T HAVE A MOM TO CALL

She shrugs when she shows him that note; it's not something she feels a lot of angst about, it's just a fact.

I HAVE TO GO TO CHURCH?

me neither

Well, actually, he-- hasn't looked his family up yet. He-- probably should? Try to connect with one sister at least? They won't be in Maryland but there should be a way to find them. He starts to turn away as that train of thought has him going down a dangerous path of hypotheticals and even a glimmer of hope. But his own family is mostly something of his past. The woman in front of him remains his priority and he promptly snaps out of it.

good gossip
befriend the locals
find alibis
itll be good for you

Chell narrows her eyes at him. A man thinking about alibis is not a man staying out of trouble. Does he take his own advice?

Not her business, she supposes. He can do what he wants, and she'll take care of herself. (The full importance of being "married" hasn't registered for her.)

DOUBTFUL BUT OK

And then ... what now? Looking back through her half of the conversation, she underlines a question and taps it.

WILL THEY STOP ME IF I LEAVE?

The fact that he started giving her a list of ways to behave here kind of suggests that they're stuck here, but -- why? Would this mad scientist pop out of the bushes if she just tried to go get on a bus out of town or something? Or a Party Escort Bot grab her by the ankle and drag her back to a bed she doesn't recognize?

She'll come to figure out soon enough that her husband is a 'do what I say, not what I do' kind of guy. Just one of many horrendously unendearing qualities about him. Hopefully in time she'll find a few redeeming things she can put up with at least...

cant leave
if you get caught theyll hurt you

He might not be telling her everything, but he's not being deliberately vague either. He just doesn't want her to get hurt. He doesn't want anyone in this town to get hurt.

i didnt mean to hurt you

Just in case she starts thinking he's part of whatever grander conspiracy is at work here. He did pull a knife on her after all.

Well, that's a straight answer. And one she's inclined to believe. People lie about good things, like cake, and helping you, not dire consequences. Dire consequences seem way more likely to be real.

And that means she's stuck here. In Maryland. Maybe even in this house. Trapped, again, and this time with nothing: no portal gun, no Advanced Knee Replacements or Long Fall Boots, no Companion Cube, no tests. Just herself, and this guy with his list of American values.

She reads the last thing he wrote and shakes her head.

YOU DIDN'T

Now that he mentions it, though, she does look down at herself and takes in what kind of mess she's made of herself by throwing herself out a window. There are some scratches on her calves and forearms from the bush that broke her fall, though none are particularly serious. Nothing she hasn't walked off before.

YOU DON'T HAVE TO LEAVE THE BEDROOM IT'S YOURS

She points at herself and gestures at the living room. The couch is fine for her.

Edited (oh actually I cut the line that needed the content warning SHRUG EMOJI) 2024-03-24 04:34 (UTC)

He shakes his head. Maybe that's not universal for 'no', he doesn't know. But there's no God-fearing American man who would kick his wife out to the couch while he takes the bed. And Bucky's relationship with God might be on the rocks - hasn't been on anything more than shaky ground for eighty years now - but in some ways he is still traditional enough to be able to pass off as a local around here.

i dont sleep on beds

Which doesn't explain how he got into the bed last night, but then, she doesn't have an explanation for how she got in there either.

back door boobytrapped
and basement door
dont open
leftover mac cheese if you hungry

He'll convert those boobytraps to a trip wire at some point later today so she won't accidentally get herself killed. And they'll figure this... domestic situation out.

TRAPPED HOW?

The mention of food prompts a sudden, loud growl from her stomach. Chell looks surprised and puts a hand on her belly. Food! Holy shit, when was the last time she ate something?

rigged with ~~PAVA~~ pepper spray
nothing lethal
ball bearings out of stock

Would he have jury-rigged a claymore mine to take out any burglar, raccoon, mad scientist doctor, suddenly-wife or unsuspecting neighbour? You bet.

Finally abandoning the pen and paper, he flexes his hand and gestures for her to come. Of course, the standard military way, sweeping an open hand closer to himself, which probably means something else to her. Hopefully she'll follow him to the kitchen regardless. With his toes wedged against the bottom door, Bucky opens the top door of the fridge. It was fully stocked when he got here, but supplies have whittled down to mostly just the things he eats. Bacon, eggs, milk, butter. A bag of apples. A whole shelf of beer.

He doesn't seem to have any problem using a knife on people, but chopping vegetables is tough with one hand. So anything that most families around here might buy intact and keep in the fridge is in the freezer, like pre-cut broccoli florets, sliced three colour peppers, 30 boxes of TV dinners...

Anyway. Leftover mac and cheese is in the fridge, above the beers. He's portioned them out into 3 containers already, so he takes one out and removes the lid, slides it into the microwave and punches in two minutes. He's figuring out his human body can't eat as much as he used to, but making smaller portions has not been so intuitive.

They're going to have to figure out how to communicate without writing all the time. Bucky gestures for her to sit and points to the coffee pot. Want one?

Oh, okay, good, no mashy plates. Pepper spray is nothing to play with, though. It's really hard to dodge.

She follows him to the kitchen, watching him navigate one-handed. When he invites her to sit and points to the coffee, she nods slowly and takes one of the kitchen chairs, perching towards the edge of it. Not totally relaxed yet. (Her nightgown rides up to reveal a set of gnarly, old-looking scars on both sides of her knees, like something was once surgically installed and then removed without much finesse.)

She waves for his attention, when she gets the chance, taps her left arm, and points at him quizzically.

[ota] February/March Catch-All

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cw for implied medical horror/surgery but actually this time

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