sixthiterationlogs | as under a green sea, I saw him drowning.

Entry tags:

as under a green sea, I saw him drowning.

WHO: Steve Trevor
WHERE: Fountain / Center of Town
WHEN: July 25
OPEN TO: All
WARNINGS: n/a

drowning

He can't breathe. He can't breathe. At first, he thinks that obviously he can't breathe, the fire and the smoke from the explosion are causing him to experience his last breaths in a way that mimics drowning, the chemicals from Dr. Poison's vials clouding his lungs and making it feel like he can't get a breath. Only, then he opens his eyes to water surrounding him and realizes that no, this isn't the plane, he's actually drowning.

Again.

This time, he's far more conscious than the last and something like a current in the water is pushing him upwards, though it's like there's a block in his mind that's preventing him from getting past the flinch of expecting fire and poison. With one last strong kick, he surfaces and hauls in oxygen in panicked, heavy hauls, the breath he never expected to take again. He reaches for his revolver, out of habit, but there's nothing at hand on him beyond the straps of a bag and a pair of clothes better suited to the hospital than war. Grasping the stones, he feels a little too unsteady to haul himself over the edge just yet, but he digs his fingernails into stonework and pries himself up until he can roll to the ground, collapsing in a wet heap.

He's breathing. He's ... alive? Steve can't see how that's possible, not unless he failed his mission, and if he'd done that, then there are bigger things to worry about. He needs to get up and find out what happened. He needs to find Chief or Charlie or Sami or --

Steve closes his eyes and thinks about Diana, wishing they'd had more time. Maybe he's managed to get lucky and get himself out a tight mess (though he hasn't got the first idea how), but that doesn't mean that he gets to stop working. Hauling himself to a sitting position, he clambers to his feet when he sees someone passing in the distance through blurred vision and wet lashes. "Hey," he calls, coughing up residual water. "Wait, wait, just hold a second, please," he adds, straining to get his legs to work, but he's still so shaky, the explosion is still so fresh in his mind.

bearings

It's sort of like going back in time to his childhood, Steve thinks as he maps his way around the village, using the measure of his step in order to gauge distances and horizons as best as he can. The houses look strangely unfamiliar, built with materials that Steve doesn't really recognize, but there's common buildings that he can pick out and name with ease. He ventures towards the mill and the inn, takes his time with a few of the other public structures, but eventually, makes his way back to the fountain to take inventory of what's in his bag.

He doesn't find any weapons, which is the first thing he's looking for. After so many years working with the BEF under their intelligence arm, Steve's not entirely sure how comfortable he feels being unarmed, which is something he'll have to fix soon enough. Until then, his own two fists will need to do the trick.

There's a whole wall of things he's not thinking about right now, like the part where he's probably dead and he probably burned up in a haze of poison and smoke, but somehow he's managed to come out of it with a body and a pair of gray hospital scrubs? That's what Steve doesn't understand, not to mention if this is supposed to be heaven or hell, he'd expect something out of it.

Adjusting on his knees as he starts to repack his bag, he glances at his surroundings again and tries to decide which way to go. Without a compass, he'll have to go the old-fashioned way, but with the sun high in the sky, he figures he's got time enough to choose. "North," he says aloud, squinting and trying to get his bearings. "Time to head North."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Moana shook her head, tousling thick curls of dark hair. "It isn't your fault or my fault that we're here. It's hard but if we work together we can make it a little easier." She met his forced smile with one of her own. Up until recently, Moana had felt that confidence and strength waver, she didn't want to let that happen anymore. She was going to try her best and help in what ways she could.

"Have you been to the inn yet? There is some information on a board there and a map." It wasn't a good map but it was one that Moana occasionally glanced at. She had most of the area memorized, except for the forest, which was always changing. "It isn't much." She confessed with an awkward tilt to her smile. "But I want to help if I can."

She stepped forward then and held out her hand. "I'm Moana."

Steve's already decided that he likes her, mainly because she's speaking in a way that he understands. The war's made him understand that if you don't work together, you'll be doomed, so best to get serious and get working, because that's the only way that things will work.

"I haven't," he admits, though he's willing to go anywhere that he can get some information. If he can get that, he's already a step ahead of where he'd been with Themyscira. Reaching out to shake her hand firmly, he gives her the warmest smile he can muster, still a little overwhelmed. "I'm Steve."

Moana's smile grew when he agreed to accept her help. She liked helping but understood when new people wanted to wander around on their own.

"This is the mill. They're trying to fix it up to get power to the houses." Though Moana had no idea what this power will do because there was no electricity where she was from. "The inn is back towards town. I'll show you the way." She gestured with a wave of her hand and headed towards the door of the mill.

She paused before stepping outside, turning to look behind her like she had forgotten something. When she was sure that she hadn't, she led them back towards the inn.

He'd drifted towards the mill because of the seeming use of it. It's more than an inn, he'd figured, because it had a purpose and it did something. Still, if where they keep their information is at the inn, then he's not going to argue an established practice so much as he's willing to roll with it and adapt, keeping his nose down and trying not to make trouble.

"Moana," he echoes her name, glancing at her appearance. "Are you from the West coast?" he asks. "Maybe your family immigrated in?" It's a long shot, he suspects, but he's still trying to make sense of this whole thing.

Moana looked over at him, her dark eyes reflecting the thoughtful musings that skittered like chipmunks in her head. "West from which coast?" She asked, because it wasn’t obvious. She has talked to a lot of people about their homes and as far as Moana was able to deduce they were completely different realms or locations that span between oceans.

After realizing that she wouldn’t be able to answer him she tried to explain. "I’m from an island." She waved a hand to try and gesture what it’s rough shape looked like. "No one was allowed to leave my island… I did recently, right before I came here."

She had left her island to find the demi-god Maui and to return the heart of Te Fiti.

"United States?" he offers, but it's with less conviction than he'd been speaking with before, since he's starting to get the idea that maybe she's not from anywhere he knows, which means that maybe he needs to be a little more careful before he opens his big mouth and goes around assuming things. Steve needs to start treating this more like it's back to basic spywork and wait for information to come to him.

"Did your island have a name?" he asks, wondering if hers had been one of the ones just like Diana's, as if there could be more than one out there.

"I've heard of it but I haven't been there. Some of the people here told me about the cities… Chicago and New York." Moana pronounced the names a little awkwardly. She was still getting used to saying them and they sounded weird to her.

Her smile brightened when he asked about her island. "I'm from Motunui." She liked talking about her island. "My people don't leave the island much anymore but a long time ago they used to be voyagers." Her hands spread out as if she was trying to shape an image in the air. "I found this cavern with huge canoes."

It was the last exciting memory she had…

"I haven't seen any of them in years," Steve admits, struck by how long it's been since he'd been home. It's not as long as some of the others in the war, but he's been there for almost two years. Had been there. Was there. Steve's still not sure which tense to use for this sort of thing, because he's still not used to being alive when he'd made his peace with dying to try and save the day.

"Motunui," he echoes, trying it again until he pronounces it like she does. "So, your people..." He's trying to be gentle about this, trying not to insult her. "Are you related to gods? Have any special powers or something?"

Moana blinked. "Not related." She replied softly.

"We have our stories about the gods but-" Her voice trailed off and it was clear that her mind was slowly drifting to other places. "Maui is the demi-god of Wind and Sea. I was supposed to find him, to save my people." It was more complicated than that but Moana didn't know if she could go into all the details now.

She was unsteady and unsure. Her finger lightly played with the seashell necklace around her throat.

"Did you?" He asks that with a lot more calm than he might have a few weeks ago, but then, he also hadn't run into Ares, God of War a few weeks ago, so Steve's beginning to understand that he'd been playing with a deck missing a few cards, truthfully. "How come you had to find him to save your people? What was wrong?"

It's a stark contrast to Diana seeking out Ares to destroy him, but then, this whole business about gods is way past Steve's pay-grade, as far as he's concerned.

Moana looked up at Steve with a thoughtful stare. "There is a legend among my people." She began in a soft voice. "In the beginning there was the mother island known as Te Fiti. She granted the other islands with life. It was said; she got the power from her heart. Many sought the heart until one day Maui stole it." She paused, her fingers running over the shell around her neck.

"Maui lost the heart to the sea, as well as his magical fish hook. After the heart was taken darkness fell over the world and began to suck the life of island after island." She knew that he might not believe her but he had asked. "That darkness came to my island. The ocean choose me to sail across the seas and return the heart of Te Fiti." She slipped the heart from the necklace around her throat. It was a green stone with a spiral towards its center. At one point it had glowed, now it was dead.

"I wasn't able to return it before I was brought here…"

Pragmatic and logic have their place, Steve tells himself, and after everything he's seen, he needs to keep an open mind. Still, it's a whole lifetime of rational thought of good and bad and gray that he's trying to get over, which means that as much as he's willing to listen, he's still wary as he hears the story.

"That sounds like one big mission," he says, giving her a half-smile as he thinks about how Diana's probably sounded just as heavy. "Did you have any help along the way?"

"Maui. I found him. He was going to help me return the heart." After a lot of convincing and helping him return his hook.

Moana studied Steve curiously, her eyes large and dark as she thought about his question. "You believe me?" She wasn't used to that, a few people believed her and a few others thought she was crazy. Until the heart had arrived in the village everyone thought that she was crazy or using some metaphor.

"Here's the inn." She pointed to the building as they came up to it. A medium sized pig was sitting near the front door and it stood as Moana approached. "Hey Itiiti. You could have come with me." Spoke in reply to his snort before looking back at Steve. "It's this way."

"I guess, a little," Steve admits. Diana's story isn't his to tell, so he doesn't launch into why he believes her, but at the same time, it's opened up his mind enough to know that not everything can be explained with reason and practicality. It's probably not something he completely buys into, but he's willing to try.

Steve glances up at the building, glancing at the others in relation to where it stands, not sure if he's looking for anything in particular. "Why do you have a pig?" he asks warily. "Were you a farmer on your island too?"

Moana laughed. "No. I'm the daughter of the village chief. Itiiti here showed up in a box at my door. He helps me find mushrooms and roots for the meals here. He's my friend." It wasn't that weird to have a pig for a friend.

She pushed her way inside, holding the door open for both Itiiti and Steve. "So the bulletin board is here. It has information of things that have happened. The sun not setting, the hail storm and earthquakes too." She walked over to where it was and pointed to it. "I think almost everything is up here." Moana had been there since before winter though she knew others who had been there longer.

Why is it that he finds the pig weirder than the god? "Animals aren't really around, where I'm from," he says, seeing as you can't keep them on the front lines without knowing that something's going to happen to them and while the rats are constantly present and the kestrels and vultures, too, they're not exactly pets.

"This is good," Steve says as he steps up to start reading what's been displayed, a keen eye to all of it. "Are there any ways to take notes? Someone in charge I can talk to?"

"No one is in charge exactly." She scrunched up her face. "Everyone pitches in and works together. There are people who have been here longer than others. I think Peggy has been here the longest." Moana didn't know the exact date but the woman had welcomed her upon her arrival and that had been at least over half a year ago.

"Why does someone have to be in charge." They had held a town meeting to talk about exactly that but nothing came out of it. Moana thought it was best since everyone had a system set up that worked.

Steve gives a lost look, not sure if he's supposed to know who Peggy is, but as far as he's concerned, it's just another name. Though, it's something that sounds at home with his world and he thinks of a secretary type, like the other Peggys that he's met and known. "Usually, when you go somewhere, someone's trying to control everything and be in charge," he says, which has never been him, but he's been marched in front of superiors and leaders more times than he can count.

"I think maybe it makes people feel comfortable, like somehow there's some sense," he says, even though Steve's not entirely sure.

"Really?" Moana asked.

She had been to a handful of places but she hadn't seen people fighting to be in charge. She saw those who wanted power, the heart of Te Fiti for example, but that hadn't been to necessarily be in charge. There was a council on her island and while she'd one day be the village chief it was her job to be the voice for the people and help solve there problems. In a way she was in charge but she'd have to fill the mold that was left for her. For the first time, Moana wondered if anyone else wanted the role of being the village chief. When she thought about it, the answer was no. It was a lot of work and most people on the island were happy where they were.

"You mean that having someone in charge means that you have someone you can go to for answers." Not that anyone who'd be in charge here would have answers but within that context it made sense to Moana. "That doesn't sound fair."

"I mean, I did just come from a continent wide war," Steve says dry and his sarcasm as brittle a thing as ever. "You tend to need some kind of order, even if it's not the kind I tended to agree with," he admits, seeing as the generals had often put men like him in the line of danger without doing it themselves, but that's how it worked, you had to prioritize.

It'd taken Diana to come along for Steve to realize just how wrong that was, for him to have his worldview shaken up to the point that he started to rethink everything. "What if the person in charge is the most qualified? What if they've been chosen by the many?"

Moana looked up at him with a frown. "What war?" She hadn't heard about a war since her arrival and that had been over half a year prior to now.

At his question she shook her head. "That isn't it. In my village we have a chief but he still sits on the council of elders. His duty is to listen to the people and keep them safe." Moana felt her heart constrict when she thought of her father. "The elders will listen to him and he listens to the elders." In her village, the elders were merely those who were to old to help around the village but not yet dead. They had seen more than others and were able to pull bits and pieces from the village past to help them find reasonable solutions to their problems.

Moana on the other hand was young and rash. She had left the island to return the heart and save her village and people from the darkness that threatened the island. Her father hadn't wanted her to go.

How is it that he keeps meeting women who don't know about the greatest and deadliest war that the world has ever seen? Steve is still thrown off as he gives her a look of wary disbelief, but just like before, he needs to be cautious about what he says because it's not her fault if she hasn't heard about it. "It's 1918, it's the Great War," he says, unable to keep all the doubt out of his voice.

"If your elder actually listens to his people, then he's already better than some leaders I know," Steve says firmly, because that's an unfortunate truth he's come to learn. Generals stay behind the lines and let their men fight and die. "Not everyone is always suited for the job."

Moana shook her head. "I haven't heard of it. I'm not sure when 1918 is." She didn't tell time and dates the same way that others did and while she had months and seasons, her names for them had been different when she first arrived.

"And it sounds like you need new leaders." She pointed out with a frown.

"Trust me when I say that I think about that all the time," Steve guarantees, because he'd become tired of going behind his leaders' back all the time for tasks he felt necessary and important to saving lives and hearing Diana rail against them had only been additional fuel on that fire, as far as he's concerned.

"What year was it for you?" he asks. "You had to have some standard of telling time, right?" It's insane to imagine that they don't.

She rolled her shoulders in a shrug; Moana didn't know what the year was in her world. "No one had left my island in over a thousand years. We measured the days and passing of time since then but we don't have a standard. The past is just… the past."

In truth, Moana's time was close to 16AD, which was 1902 years before Steve. There was a lot that she didn't know and a lot that didn't exist in her time. "Why?"

as under a green sea, I saw him drowning.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)