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

Village

[ombranera]

"Hello Bella." Zev calls from where he is huddled in front of the inn. New faces- not that he has time to learn everyone here just yet but she seems the particular brand of vexed that the few newcomers he's seen so far all share. Certainly she is wearing on her face what he felt when he hauled himself out of the fountain. Red which- he envies more than a little. His own violet scrubs are hardly flattering but there isn't anything for it until he finds someone willing to trade- but he does have to admit it looks lovely on her. "There is a free meal available inside- but not ale, alas. It seems that despite the weather and good reason such drink is difficult to find."

His heart weeps for the lack of good Antivan wine and Brandy. One day he might con someone into producing a bottle but- it will not be the same.

[oorah]

Another red scrubs, is the first thing he thinks. It has his danger-sensing buzzing on overdrive before he's even close enough to recognize her. It's windy and rainy today, but he doesn't seem phased by it, and nor does the dutiful black-and-tan bloodhound at his side. He approaches slowly, hood drawn up over his long hair and beard but he's squinting against the weather anyway. It feels like snow, but the temperature is still too high yet - probably tonight. Before he can call her back, Aretha runs right up to the stranger and starts sniffing at her knees. Frank opens his mouth to scold her, she's usually a much better listener, but when he sees the woman's face his heart stops. Brenda, as he had known her, though he'd always known too it wasn't her real name. He's caught gawking a few moments before he finally snaps himself out of it enough to push some words past his lips, still hanging open. "S-sorry," it's less of a stutter than a hesitation, his voice soft and yet its gruffness carries it through the wintery breeze. "You come from there?" He points back to the lake as it starts to overflow, knowing she must have since he was just by the fountain with no sign of a new (old) face.

Village - Inn

[thegreatexperiment]

Sam's vodka still looked like something out of a Rube Goldberg drawing. There were pipes and tubes and glass jars and jugs. Everything was rigged up by string over burners and counter tops. The whole thing had to be disassembled and reassembled every time she used it, or no one would be able to use half of the kitchen. As a whole, Sam tried not to be that person. A dick. Admittedly, it was a habit that came to her naturally in most arenas of her life. But she had surprisingly excellent kitchen etiquette.

Especially for someone who couldn't eat.

She missed eating, as of late. Comfort food, really. A bag of Cheetos or a nice, hot bowl of her mother's Matzo-ball soup. Anything to clear her mind. She was working on her second batch of the day, her eyes following the glittery, shining bubbles as they traveled along her patchwork distillery. There was an art and a beauty to it, but Sam couldn't fully appreciate it today.

It was just that she was so fucking distracted. Stupid Danny. Stupid hot springs.

In the most affectionate way, of course.

[assemble_the_lovbacken]

Thor is still trying to settle himself into the village with this terribly fragile and all around ridiculous mortal body he has the displeasure of inhabiting. He's still stronger than the average man, he figures, but that's little consolation when he used to be able to conjure thunder and lightning without a second thought. He's sat himself by the riverside, baseball cap and peacoat having been scrounged from his backpack and now doing their bit to help protect him from the cold, a ridiculous concept in itself. He's never had to think about the temperature outside before.

He's mumbling little things to himself, mostly made up scenarios that involve: 1. Defeating Hela as soon as she showed up in Norway; 2. Having Mjolnir back and using it to escape; 3. Gleefully finding himself in a pit of snakes, though he realizes now they'd have to be non-venemous since he's mortal now; 4. other Avengers-esque adventures. He's even fashioned himself a tiny clay Mjolnir with some effort, though it doesn't really stay put together too long before crumbling back into nothing.

At the sound of nearby rummaging, he lifts his head and turns towards the sound. He's given up on finding his brother hidden amongst the wildlife, so he doesn't think much of whomever might be picking through the nearby cabin. When he catches sight of the red scrubs, it still doesn't quite register - it's only when he sees her face that he immediately hops to his feet, grinning from ear to ear, and jumps up and down where he is, arms waving wildly overhead.

"HEY! HEYYYY!" he shouts, unable to contain his excitement. He begins to trot over, remembers he's left his backpack and goes back to get it, then resumes his beeline for her. "You look so different without your armor," he notes with giggling amusement. "When did you arrive? How long have you been here? Have you seen Banner yet?"

Bunker!

[notsoangry]

After taking Thor out of a tube before he drowned, Bruce has been anxiously going down to the Bunker daily just to be certain someone isn't scrambling around in there. It's not that hard to take a book down with him and take some quiet time while he's there. Currently it's how to sew. He knows how to sew, the bare basics, and he's excellent with sutures, but there are some styles in here that he's not aware of. They might all need to figure out some day how to create more complex pieces of clothing, and at the very least it's keeping his fingers nimble.

He is on his way into the bunker with that book when he thinks he sees something moving within one of the tubes and then a very clear banging. Bruce moves quickly over to it, dropping the book to the side. At first he tries to see who it is, but really, there's no point to that. It doesn't matter who it is, they need help. He thinks he has a better idea of the controls now, except in the end he pushes a few buttons until one of them works. Expertise will come later. Survival has to happen now.

It opens up and he offers up his hands to help whoever it is down, although it only takes a quick beat before he recognizes the woman. Bruce looks much the same as the last time he saw her. A little thinner, hair only slightly longer, but still simple, unremarkable, and yet familiar in the face. The Big Guy and him were echoes in expression, and he understands now why she felt so familiar in Sakaar. It's almost a pang of sadness in his chest, knowing the Hulk was no longer around to spy a friend.

"Scrapper, it's um, hi, it's nice to see you. I'm sorry that you're here, in the general sense of, uh, it's not where any of us would choose but." Why was he so tongued tied around people? She of all people he can relax around. Slow down, Banner. "Are you okay?"

Arrival

[houmaprotector]

Alec keeps to himself. That's what he does, but at least you know, there's a use for what he does. So he picks up plants, forages, avoids boars and comes back and still thinks about the machine and if he can somehow make it so he can't die...what it might do to him...

Carrying a pile of plants he nearly collides with a young woman (perhaps?) nearly dropping several stalks and stems before he pauses. 7 feet tall green and made of plants, he looks as surprised as he can manage.

"...I'm so sorry. I wasn't watching where I was going."