I wanted to stay home but I went running running running running from the troubles

[paidforit]

WHO: Valkyrie
WHERE: The Bunker, around the village
WHEN: End of November
OPEN TO: Bruce Banner (Bunker), OTA (Village)
WARNINGS: Possible mentions of alcohol abuse, past implied slavery, and PTSD.

---

Arrival in the Bunker

To wake with swirling, swimming vision, everything distorted in front of her, is nothing new. Many are the nights where the previous night's inebriation simply bleeds over into the morning, one day into another. But the tube? The tube's a decidedly new development.

Groggily she draws a hand up to push at the glass. Then knock against it a few times, the noise enough to discourage further taps with a groan and a squint. Okay, no, hangover is not liking that at all. Though this didn't feel quite like the average hangover.

Still might puke, though.

There's a shape moving past the glass that she can't quite make out, and she tries to lean forward enough to see who it is. One of the Grandmaster's goons? A gladiator? Is this the new pit? She'd worked her way out of that mess already, or so she'd thought. Or was this some scavenger crew who thought to sell her out?

"Hey!" And that initial shout reminds her with a grimace that yes, still in glass tube. Still only really hurting her own ears here. Ow...


Arrival in the Village

Freed of the tube, she's free to marvel at how much...really hasn't changed at all. She's stuck here, instead of there, with less food and booze but more trees and greenery, and fewer tasers or holding cells. Maybe they like their 'prisoners with jobs' free-range, here.

Still, for a new arrival, she doesn't look that fussed by the change of scenery. Anyone look at her could tell she was new, a well-muscled but slight woman with messy dark hair bound back out of her face. Her expression? Says she's already about a thousand percent done with the shake-up and ready to move on. This gaping uncertainty under her feet is a little less than ideal, but she's handled herself in worse.

Clad in telltale red scrubs and carrying her complimentary pack on her shoulder, she's making her rounds, from building to building. Taking in the landscape, such as it is. There's a vague tally to keep, places to sleep, people she'd be expected to work with to do...whatever needed doing. Because of course they're going to ask her to do things, that's not a question, really.

So the sooner she finds out what she needs to do to get secure and get out of her own mind? The happier she'll be.

Comments

[paidforit]

The dog loping up to her has her stiffening for a moment, before her mouth curls in a quiet smirk. There had been hounds on Asgard, big beautiful beasts, and she took to a knee for a moment to offer hands and let the dog sniff before giving her a few gentle scratches around the ears.

"Well, aren't you friendly. Where's your person?" she murmurs, not truly expecting any answer at all.

No sooner said, she notices Frank approaching from some distance off, looking her way as though he'd seen a ghost. That's a hard expression to miss, even on a face like that. She blinks, glances over her shoulder, then down to the dog before lifting her eyes once more. Alright, that look was leveled at her after all. What was this guy's story? Color her curious.

"Yeah. Bunker up that way. This your friend?" she replies, nodding towards the animal whose fur she was currently ruffling.

[oorah]

He nods stiltedly in understanding, knowing she's too perceptive not to pick up on him being a weirdo. Too late to take back now, though you'd think he'd get better at this each time it happens. It still throws him for a loop every damn time.

"Aretha," he confirms, finally schooling his expression into something that could pass for neutral. After a moment, he touches his own chest and labels himself: "Frank," though the urge is strong to bring back what she had originally known him by.

[paidforit]

Not that it would make a difference. He's a stranger, unfamiliar entirely save in a certain hollow darkness around his eyes that she knows. She sees it now and then in her own reflection, that gnawing void that gets left behind when you survive. More specifically, when you survive and others don't.

Broken people can recognize the fractures in one another, it seems.

So if he's being weird -- and yeah, he is a bit -- she doesn't prod him for it. Instead, she gives a little nod of understanding. "Scrapper," she answers in kind, before lowering her attention back to the dog long enough for a few more good pats.

Then she's rising to her feet, shifting the weight of the bag on her back. "You two been here long?"

[oorah]

It was that first recognition that drew him to Valkyrie in the first place. Aretha eats up her attention, just as Max had in Reims, and he feels something let go in his chest just watching them interact. "Uh. Her longer than me. I've been almost six months. Aretha's been over a year, at least."

[paidforit]

That doesn't strike her as strange, the dog being here longer than the person. Separate souls and all, though they seem to be bonded in that way animals tend towards. The same had been true of Aragorn, that prideful beast who'd been her friend and steed for so many long years.

Right. None of that. Just tighten that right back up again. "Six months. Long enough to get a grasp on things, I hope."

[oorah]

He tips his head to the side, not sure if he "hopes" the same thing. But he knows a lot about this place. As much as he can. really. "You got questions?" he reserves these Q&A sessions for people he knew before, even when they don't know him back. He owes them, maybe, or maybe it's just the familiarity that's nice, one-sided or not.

[paidforit]

"About the big things?" She shrugs, pulling a face. "Nah, not really. You've been here that long, you'd know if there's a way out. The way people have set up here?"

She jerks a thumb over her shoulder.

"That says this is a permanent stay. Or it's intended to be one. Am I getting warm?"

Her tone is almost a tired one. It's the same story, she imagines, just better scenery and less blood-sport and digging around in garbage. Which she can deal with, she supposes, just as long as there's some way to pass the time and something to drown herself in.

Sakaar had that going for it, at least.

[oorah]

Frank nods because she's right. If there were a way out, the most of them wouldn't have settled. Though he recalls the conversation with Bruce about just that and how they'd both stay behind and he can't prevent the soft sigh that pushes out from between his lips.

"People disappear as often as they show up, so. Not exactly permanent, but you won't know how long til it's over, or where you're going next til you get there."

[paidforit]

"So we're all just a bunch of ghosts."

Maybe this is some kind of weird afterlife. Not the glorious halls of Valhalla, but some run-down village in the middle of a vast and weird forest. Doesn't that just figure? Everything else had been a lie or a sham.

There's a quiet little huff of laughter as she shakes her head, letting her gaze move over their surroundings where they stand. "I guess it doesn't matter. Make it as long as you have to and then...go. Wherever else there is to go. Or go back."

There's something very resigned in the way she shrugs, teeth rolling over her lower lip. "...I'm way too sober to be thinking about any of this."

[oorah]

"That's one way to look at it." And it's obvious in his bland tone that he doesn't necessarily disagree. He lets her work through it and then come to the conclusion he knew she would. Frank snorts, then nods, waving her onto the path so he can lead her back towards the first corral of houses. "I make wine, come on." It had been the first thing he did for her in Reims, bring her booze and a bit of food to get her through the first days. If she'll allow it, he'd like to do the same again.

[paidforit]

She's not gonna say no, but then he probably knew that, didn't he?

So it's easy to fall into step alongside him, turning to smirk down at the dog as she trots alongside them for a time. It's oddly relaxing. Maybe her first real opportunity to do so since arriving, instead of scrounging around for whatever she's meant to be doing and whoever needs to be properly impressed.

This guy doesn't give that vibe. He just is. Honest, unpretentious. It's a nice change of pace.

She takes a swift inhale before squinting up at Frank. "...we haven't met before, have we?" Call her crazy, but there's this air between them she can't quite place. It's not that she remembers him at all, no. She doesn't.

And yet.

[oorah]

He had a feeling anyway. The Valkyrie he knew would never have said no to free booze. Though she had been just as suspicious of Frank their first meeting then, too. It's always such a loaded question: have they met? She's never met him, so technically no. And if the theories floating around about this place are to be believed then he isn't even the same version of himself who met her, either, but he's not interested in that now.

Neither 'yes' nor 'no' really works for the answer and he's sure she's noticed how he's struggling to answer what should be a simple question. "What have you been told so far?" Not like he thinks her mind is delicate or would shatter with weirder information, he just wants to build on what she's gleaned already rather than seeming to contradict it.

[paidforit]

"That this place gets people from different worlds, different times. I've already run into a load of people who know me, but I don't know them. Yet." Which should be weirder. It should be freaking her out to some small degree, but all she can really manage to feel is tired.

The fact that he didn't just say 'no' is also pretty telling. But she waits for his own explanation before pressing any further, her head cocked attentively towards him.

[oorah]

So she's doing alright for intel then. Frank nods, confirming what she'd heard in his own way.

"I met you. In another place like this."

[paidforit]

Simple as you like. Simple enough she wonders why he didn't just say so, like so many others. She doesn't ask, just purses her lips slightly and nods as they walk along, the crisp crunch of cold, dry grass under their feet.

"Guess that's my lot in life, then. Bouncing around between one interdimensional trash heap or another." A crooked little smile tilts the edge of her mouth, her dark eyes shifting back in his direction. Come on. It's a little funny, isn't it? At least as much funny as it is sad.

It's not as though she cares where she ends up, and forgetting has been her goal from the start. But it'd be nice if she could remember the people who remembered her, at the very least.

"You too, eh?"

[oorah]

Huh. That wasn't what he expected, but she said other people knew her from a dimension like this? He thought himself, Kamala, Jessica and Elektra were the only ones who came from a place like this.

"Yeah, me too. I'm on my second." He'd met people in Reims who were on their third or fourth and he knows how complacent it makes people. Maybe that's the whole point. "Where were you before?"

[paidforit]

"Sakaar. The end of the universe, or at least the trash heap with the best view of it."

There's a small twitch of her fingers, as though longing for something in her hand that isn't there, that she doesn't possess anymore, and she settles for quietly picking her nails instead. The surprised expression? Missed entirely.

"People and things wind up there from all over. Used to think there was no escaping it, but--" Both eyebrows arch, her chin jutting in the direction of the village structures. "Shows what they know."

There's a pause before her eyes flicker back in his direction. "You?" Because she's a little curious about Tall & Broody over here, no shame in admitting that.

[oorah]

Frank nods. The people who say those things really don't know, they say the same thing about all of these places, at least that he knew of. The question catches him by surprise a second time, if only because no one ever asks about where he was, but he doesn't mind telling her, all the same. "It was the same," he starts gruffly. "People and things from all over. But... There were creatures there. They would kill anything that made any sound." A tiny smile curves his lips as he remembers her, remembers the first time they met. And then all the nights they ever sat in silence and drank or kicked the shit out of each other in the dojo (okay, she mostly kicked the shit out of him.) "We called it Reims. France... But I think it was actually Rouen, circa 2050 or so."

[paidforit]

"So we're both used to getting tossed into whatever playground they want us in, huh." She's not sure if that's comforting or not, but there's a hint of a smile there if she's not mistaken. So perhaps he takes the same cynical view on it that she does, just taking the moments for what they are and letting the rest wash past.

Mostly the good moments have been the ones where she's blindingly drunk, but. Well, there hadn't been a whole lot of people she liked knowing on Sakaar. Maybe a handful. Here could be different, especially since it doesn't seem much like the dog-eat-dog, dog-sell-dog-into-slavery-for-beer-money sort of set-up.

"They ship in dogs, too?" And she nods to their furry walking companion, at that.

[oorah]

"Pretty much," he agrees, not sure how else to explain "popular faces" around places like these. There were always the one-offs, but the number of people he recognized here couldn't be fully coincidental. Especially since there seemed to be no rhyme or reason to if they remembered him, recognized him or otherwise. "Oh, uh... sort of. Things just show up, that's how it was in the last place, too. I think they want our reaction."

[paidforit]

"So it's a test."

There's a brief, mirthless little laugh. It's a little funny, isn't it? It's either funny or depressing and she knows which one she'd rather lean on.

"Guess that explains why we've got no orders. At least as far as I've seen. Makes a little better than fighting for our lives in a gladiator's arena." There's a pause, her head cocking slightly. "Don't think you'd have done too badly, though. If it was."

Boy looks like he can take care of himself. At least by his own world's standards.

[oorah]

That gets a snort in return, just as mirthless. He's had enough gladiator fights to last a lifetime, as has she. It's why they gravitated towards one another the first time, he knows. Veterans of the same type of pointless war. "Used to have this place... called it 'Fight Club.' You liked to come in and demo the newbies by wiping the floor with me." That gets a more sincere smile as he recounts their friendship for Valkyrie to understand why he's so fond of her more than anything. He's always regarded them as the same.

[paidforit]

"Yeah?"

That does sound like the proper way to start a friendship. There was something honest in it, something satisfying in testing your limits against someone else. And he gets that, she can tell.

He doesn't need to convince her. They're friends now, regardless. Not that she'll put a name to it that quickly, but there's a shift in the way she looks at him before her smirk turns more genuine.

"Used to. What happened to it?"

[oorah]

"It was in Reims. In my garage, actually. You helped me build it."

Or whatever version of her he knew. He doesn't have to tell her that.

"But, uh- Danny's got a place like that, here, if you ever wanna rematch." There's a tiny smile edging up the corner of his lips and he rubs at his face with his whole hand to try and clear it.

[paidforit]

Doesn't sound like a bad idea, starting up something like that again. Keep those of them that were used to fighting on their toes, even on sleepy days like this. Nothing like a good brawl to keep your blood pumping in the cold, right?

"Right. The Dojo. Heard about that place from a girl called Sam. You know her? Funny colored hair, makes her own brew."

Pretty strong stuff, too. Could strip paint off a wall. Tasted like shit, but who was drinking for the taste?