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

[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?

[oorah]

"Yeah, I know Sam," he confirms. "She's been here a long while"

There were a few like that, but instead of learning from them as he fully expected to, no one here seemed to be trying to unravel this place at all. Just living in complacency and only rallying together when disaster struck. He's still not sure how he feels about the whole set-up, other than the fact that it obviously is one and no one talks about it.

[paidforit]

"Sounds like it. There's a few that are and some that come and go, or just go. No one ever leaves, except when they do."

Her smirk fades as she gives a careless little shrug. "People are just trying to survive, it seems like. Can't exactly blame them." It's easier to fight back when there's a figure to strike at. Easier to fight for freedom when there's a way out in sight. Instead, everyone seems to be at the mercy of whoever runs this joint.

Not the most inspiring of circumstances to be in.

[oorah]

"I don't blame them," he returns, almost defensively. She wasn't accusing him of anything but it's not until a beat later that he realizes it and flashes her an apologetic look. A second later he's pointing up at the little house with the number "6" affixed to the siding. It's, curiously, the only house in the village with a number on it. The dogs are going mental like they know they're home and as they come up from a side a pen with a zalpaca and a groffle can be made out in the backyard. No, he doesn't blame anyone for trying to survive, but he still thinks everyone should be much more forthcoming overall. Isn't the goal to find a way out of here? "This is it."

He sounds tired, but when doesn't he? Frank trots up the couple porch steps to open the door for her - unlocked already but it swings in for her to go on in. It's cozy inside, one of the few houses with working electricity too. For all his talk about getting comfortable it would seem he'd done just that.

[paidforit]

Alright, Frank. Take a breath.

That's the look he gets when he responds a little more briskly than she was expecting. She's not hurt or anything, more curious as she glances his way again. The apologetic look gets a small shake of her head. It's fine, just...alright, so he's got some opinions on that. Good to know.

The strange animals in the pen outside get the same sort of curious once-over before she lets herself inside, glancing around. It's not bad as shelters go. No. It reads like more than that. The smell of dog and a general feeling of warmth and. Home? Maybe not quite that. But more than 'the place I'm currently hiding from the elements, biding my time'.

"Just you and the fuzzies, then?" she asks. Looks like he's adopted quite a few, along with their current walking companion. Fair enough. Animals are easier to trust.

[oorah]

The question has him looking up, one dog head under each massive hand as a cat rubs against the back of his leg. Yeah, this is his life, and while it's not quite home it is the next best thing.

"No. Kamala lives here." He's usually not as forthcoming with this information, but he trusts her. Implicitly, as luck would have it. "She was with me in Reims."

[paidforit]

"Kamala?" A woman. Instinctively she looks around the room again for signs of another person's tastes layered over his. If they've been here a while, traveling together, there'd be something. Unless both of them were as utilitarian as he seemed to be.

The response is a question, too, a prompt born of curiosity. If he's talking? She's listening, absently allowing the animals inside to take their inquisitive sniffs at her ankles.

[oorah]

Most of Kamala's personal effects are upstairs, though there is a pink notebook out on the table and two bows by the door signaling he doesn't hunt alone.

"Yeah, she's..." How does he explain what Kam is to him without claiming her as his own daughter? Though it's the closest thing and certainly the easiest way to get the information across, it isn't fair to either of them, least of all her family still waiting for her back in Jersey City. "We look out for each other in these places."

[paidforit]

Her eyes trail over the scrap of pink, that much easier to spot amidst everything else. "Easier for most than surviving alone."

Most, because she can. She'd adapted to needing no one and surviving on ruthlessness alone. But that's not what's need here. This is community living, like it or not, which means being part of it. She's not so blind as to not recognize that fact.