Steven G. Rogers (
thekidfrombrooklyn) wrote in
milliways_bar2021-06-29 12:33 pm
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Entry tags:
er... hello again
There are doors and then there are Doors.
Steve was not looking for a Door. It wasn't even on his mind. But once he steps through it, his breath catches a little and his eyes well up.
He's been gone a long time.
"Bar," he says as he gets onto a stool, "a chocolate egg cream, please."
Coming right up.
[ooc: A quick explainer.]
Steve was not looking for a Door. It wasn't even on his mind. But once he steps through it, his breath catches a little and his eyes well up.
He's been gone a long time.
"Bar," he says as he gets onto a stool, "a chocolate egg cream, please."
Coming right up.
[ooc: A quick explainer.]
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"He's a peach, that Bucky Barnes. Well, heck, Steve Rogers, I feel like I know you already, he talks about you so much."
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He says, "On the other hand, I don't know you at all. You fought in the war, too?"
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She tosses him a crisp salute, her smile white and flashing. "Flew with the Blackhawks; independent resistance squadron. Lady Blackhawk, they called me."
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She waves her beer bottle in a lazy gesture. "By the time I joined up, they were headquartered on a lil' island in the Pacific, but we saw action all over the European theater."
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"Were you a combat pilot? Most of the female pilots I knew were only allowed to do transport."
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Her grin flashes again, irrepressible and cheery as Christmas morning. "Once I convinced 'em to let me join, anyhow. Bart gave me a flat 'no' the first time I showed up and said I wanted to be a Blackhawk."
She sips at her beer and gives him a considering kind of look: he's a little shaggier than he was in the photos she saw, but he's still got the straight shoulders and easy confidence that's so familiar to her. "How 'bout you, sugar? I know some – Captain, right? – but there's nothin' like hearin' it from the horse's mouth."
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He scrubs his hand through his hair.
"I don't know what you already know... I started out in the USO, selling war bonds and trying to raise morale.
"Then Bucky's unit was captured by HYDRA, you know HYDRA? and I went to find him."
He pauses. After all these years, it still gets him in the gut.
"Found him."
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"Sounds sorta familiar," she says, "but to be honest I think we've both been puttin' a pin in our sad stories. Or the hard ones."
She tips her head and smiles at him, kind as a sunny spring day. "But it sounds to me like findin' each other is somethin' you're both pretty damn good at. Even all these years later! Hell, if one of the Blackhawks swanned up to Gotham, lookin' as young as they did back then, it'd make livin' in the future a whole lot easier to handle."
She pauses for a swallow of her beer, then grins, mischievous. "I sure did hear about the USO. You've got my sympathies, brother; from one show pony to another."
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"How'd you get to the future? Please tell me it was a time machine. Anything else is kind of terrible."
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Or what amounts to one, anyhow. Bucky's right; she really ought to hold out for a rank of her own even if it's only honorary. She takes a swallow of her beer and thinks back.
"Got caught up in a scuffle between a few powered folk that turned into a kinda... time war, I guess y'could say. One second I was flying in my own place and time, the next I was in the middle of a battle surrounded by dinosaurs and aliens and who knows what."
She shrugs a little. "After that, I spent some time at a place kinda like this, somewhere out in the galaxy, before I wound up where 'n when I am in Gotham."
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"Where is Gotham, again?"
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She takes a sip from her drink. "Jersey, on the waterfront. Though it's more of a stopover for me these days; I got a new charter that send me all over creation."
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She gestures with her bottle. "The Skipper – the gal who hired me – she chartered us both. It's fine as anything to be back in the air, I gotta tell you."
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"I fly the Skipper and her girls wherever they wanna go. They're costumed heroes, you know the type? The Black Canary, that's one; Huntress is the other."
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He adds, amused, "Yeah, I know the type."
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Zinda beams at him. "So, what brings you to our little corner of the multiverse today, sugar? Aside from chocolate egg creams, I mean."
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“Today the door opened for me again, so here I am.”
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Zinda sighs to herself and makes a mental note, then gives him a bracing sort of smile.
"Well, lemme be the first t'welcome you back. Let me treat you, sugar: next round's on me."
[OOC: I HAD to. Poor Zinda has the WORST luck, canonically speaking.]
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[ooc: Poor Zinda!]
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Maybe especially then, depending on how he'd gotten out of it and whether or not she'd been involved. "So, Steve Rogers – you as fond of cuttin' a rug as your buddy Bucky?"
That dance floor is sure looking mighty lonely.
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