entranceway | video; guess who's back, back again

video; guess who's back, back again

[ The feed snaps on, and the frame is on the crowded side. In the foreground Steve and Wanda are seated, arranged on a couch in one of the mansion’s tea rooms, while Natasha stands behind them, leaning against the wall near the door. Steve has his phone tilted so that all of three them are visible, Wanda’s arm linked with his.

Steve’s in civilian wear, his expression composed and collected. He isn’t here to give out orders or make any speeches, though. ]

So it looks like Wonderland sent all three of us home at once. Sorry about that. [ As if they had any control over it. ] But we’re back now and more or less in one piece. [ Which isn’t the full story at all, but that isn’t something that needs to be shared with all of Wonderland.

Natasha pushes away from the wall at this and moves closer into the frame of the video, leaning on the back of the couch over Steve’s shoulder, expression mild. ] I don’t know if any others of us were sent home recently, but if so, letting us know would be greatly appreciated.

[ Her lips quirk briefly. ] Either way, I think some of us will need to be assembling for a SitRep soon regardless. But we wanted to let you know we were back to keep people from worrying.

[ Steve glances over his shoulder at Natasha, nods, and then returns to looking at his phone. ] Let us know if we’re needed anywhere.

[ With that, the feed cuts. ]

[ They’ve done their duty and reported their return, which means that it’s time for all three of them to go and lick their wounds. Steve returns to his room first and foremost, finding Bucky even sooner than he had expected when it turns out he’d camped in his room.

Once they’ve reunited, though, Steve laces up his shoes and goes for a run up and down the beach, needing some time to clear his head. Everything that happened back home has him on edge, searching for a way to take action, to do something, and yet none of it means a thing here in Wonderland. There are no Accords here, but a secret that had been revealed in the worst possible way back home remains a secret here, and it’s eating at him.

He also heads up to the roof, as if hoping that a bird’s eye view of everything will somehow cause it all to make more sense. Wonderland isn’t where he’s supposed to be, but at least some of his team is here. They maybe be prisoners, but they’re not caged and collared. It’s something. ]

[ Once Natasha parted ways with Wanda and Steve, having had a chance to - finally - compare information, she briefly stopped by her room upstairs, checking to make sure everything she'd accumulated here was as she'd left it. Then, after replying to a few text messages that had been waiting for her, she headed to the fifth floor. And the bar.

Because damn, did she ever need a drink. Or twenty. ]

[ For most of the day following their return to Wonderland, Wanda remains out of sight. There's no trace of her in either of her usual haunts, the training room or the magic study: she shuts herself away in her room for the better part of the afternoon, door locked tight, though she'll likely answer for those who seek her out. It's been months since she's been this withdrawn-- longer, considering how much time had passed during her trip home, but she finds herself feeling very much like the Wanda who had first come to Wonderland one year earlier, skittish and wary of human contact, unnerved by the idea of having to explain exactly what had changed to rob her of the confidence she had spent so many months building alongside her teammates and new friends alike.

Eventually, it's one of the most basic of human needs that forces her to emerge, hunger driving her to leave her room behind and make her way down to the communal kitchen. After spending time in government custody, the need for a real meal as opposed to whatever the closets might be able to supply is enough to make her brave the mansion beyond her room. She keeps her focus narrow at first, rummaging through the pantry to see what it might have to offer in the way of ingredients, occasionally turning her attention to the kitchen at large to see who else might have wandered in since her own arrival, an attempt to remain aware of her surroundings. House arrest followed by more severe isolation has done very little to put her at ease, and she finds herself unwilling to trust even the slightest creak of the floorboards, regardless of the fact that here, the word fugitive means very, very little. ]

[ OOC: One or all of them will respond to any network replies. If you reply to any of the action options, please specify who it’s for! ]

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[ Given the way that a human's insides can rebel in a number of different ways, Sans should be glad that he doesn't have to worry about it. Steve doesn't get sick much these days, but there was a time when he had something wrong with him more often than not.

Steve remembers hearing from Sans about the snow. ] Yeah, I wouldn't be surprised if some beach parties start to get organized around here. [ Could a skeleton swim? Something made Sans able to move around even though he had no muscle, and while Steve couldn't begin to theorize at how that worked, chances were that he could swim if wanted to.

A pause, and then Steve glances over, a little unsure. ] Do you... eat at all?

[Sans is just about the same. If he ever actually talked about anything at all, they could trade gross sickness stories. Monsters can't get sick in the same way as humans, but stuff can still go very wrong.]

i could go for that. i like the beach. and "applied relaxation" is right up my alley. can't swim, though.

[He grins up at Steve and winks.]

only when i'm hungry. so, most of the time.

[ As far as Steve's aware, even humans are supposed to only eat when they're hungry, but it doesn't always go that way. He's a special case now because his metabolism demands that he eats a lot more than he looks like he should be able to, but he's sort of gotten used to it by now.

Still a little weird, though, when back during his Brooklyn days he'd had to make sure to stretch out his meals for lack of money. ]

Okay, so how does that work?

[ A pause, and then he smiles and rubs at the back of his neck. ]

Sorry, these questions are probably way too personal. You're free to ask me some too, if that's more fair.

magic.

[That is literally his whole answer.]

and nah, it's fine. i'm kinda used to it. though if you're letting me ask questions too, then...hm.

what's it like having hair?

[ Isn't that always the answer here? Steve can't be sure, but he gets the feeling that Sans is messing with him a little. He rolls his eyes and shakes his head.

But, right. Hair. Steve runs his hand through his head of it as an almost automatic response. ]

For the most part? Nothing, really. Hair itself doesn't have any nerve endings, so you can only feel it if it's being tugged on... getting it ripped out really hurts. On the other hand, if someone's running their hand through it, that can be pretty comforting. If you're working out and start sweating, it can feel pretty gross and hot.

[ All in all, he thinks that's a pretty good description of it. ]

[He chuckles when he sees that eyeroll. He knows it's annoying--that's part of the fun, after all.]

[Also his question was mostly rhetorical, but wow, that's a very thorough description, and now Sans is genuinely curious.]

huh, so kinda...kinda like dog fur then? that might be a weird comparison. we have a ton of dog monsters where i live. they love being pet, but if you yanked on their fur they'd probably yell at you. and they'd always hate having to go to hotland. they say it mats their fur.

[4 makes a mrrt sound from under Sans's chair, probably annoyed by the talk of dogs.]

[ Dog monsters? Steve hasn't seen any of those around here, but it could just be that Wonderland hasn't decided to bring them in. Much like all the other monsters from the Underworld, apparently they can also talk.

Still, the basic idea is the same. Some people might be offended that someone would compare their hair to dog fur, but Steve knows that Sans doesn't mean anything by it. He's just trying to understand. ]

Yeah. I mean, dog fur is usually a different consistency. It tends to be coarser, sometimes thicker, and dogs shed more than humans. But the basic idea is the same.

[ This conversation is as far from any of Steve's concerns as he can get, though, which is why his body language eases up a little as he continues it. ]

There's really a place called Hotland where you're from?

[This is so weird and fascinating.]

huh. and it requires maintenance, right? or it gets tangled?

[He remembers Undyne complaining about knots sometimes. And Mettaton probably has an entire show dedicated to doing his hair.]

heh, yeah. our king isn't the best at naming things.

If it's long enough, yeah. Mine isn't going to get tangled.

[ Steve runs his fingers through his hair, causing it to stick out a little more at the front. He doesn't have a crew cut, but he's always kept his hair fairly short. ]

Right, you have a king... I think Alphys mentioned that. How'd a monarchy get formed there, anyway?

[ Steve crosses his legs and leans back on his hands. It's getting kind of hot out here, but he thinks he can hang out for a little longer. ]

i think we've always had a kind or queen. i'm not a history buff, but boss monsters are some of the oldest monsters. they've always been around, and they're functionally immortal. so maybe it just kinda defaulted that way?

[He shrugs. Politics isn't his thing, either.]

asgore's a pretty chill king, though. i think they've kind of always been real lowkey. i know monarchies in the human world always have a lot of drama around them. i guess that probably has happened with monsters, but not in a long time.

[He yawns. Always ready for a nap, this one.]

[ If someone's immortal, that certainly makes it easier for them to assume power over something. Or so Steve would guess. No human has achieved mortality, and he's not sure how it would work with Asgardians, where all of them are long-lived. How did Odin become king? He doesn't know.

It looks like Sans might be getting ready to doze off again, so Steve figures he'll try and cut things short on his behalf. ]

Well, if you've really been at peace for that long, that's good to hear. You... don't realize how rare that is.

[ Steve smiles, but it's a tight, somewhat pained thing. After what he's just been through, where he'd ended up fighting his own friends, it seems like the pipe dream of peace is even further away than it had been before. ]

[He kind of pauses mid-yawn, just for a moment. Peace, huh. Well that almost feels...disingenuous. Monsters are peaceful, certainly. There isn't really any fighting between monsters or any weird species-bias for the most part. Unless you count how everyone hates Jerry. Jerry is just objectively terrible.]

[But whether that peace remains that way depends on a lot of factors. Primarily, the timeline. And maybe peaceful isn't quite the same as at peace. Asgore was always pretending that they were somehow still fighting a war, and even putting that aside, the human--the anomaly--changes everything.]

[But you can't really talk about any of that. Can't try to explain it without going into details that are best left out. Can't explain timelines and anomalies without sounding like a crazy person.]

...yeah. yeah, i guess.

[Steve does have a point, though. At least they're not all killing each other. At least there's that.]

[ While Steve can't quite be sure that he's reading a skeleton right, he does sense some hesitation there. Like there's more to the story, which would have to be the case since there's always more to every story.

That doesn't mean that Sans wants to talk about it, and his noncommittal answer is only confirmation of that. After a moment of thought, Steve nods and stands up, stretching his arms over his head. ]

Anyway, I should go look about getting myself some food, but... thanks for the chat.

[ With a half wave, Steve starts back for the door that leads down into the mansion's top floor. ]

[He gives a lazy wave. 4 meows one last time.]

see ya.

[He's asleep before the door even closes.]

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