Sixth Iteration

abide

Shaking, he pulls himself out of the water.

The clothes he wears aren't his own, the color sort of blurring with the grass for a second or two as he lays on solid ground and fights to catch his breath. Steve isn't sure how far down he'd actually been, but waking up mid-breath isn't exactly the best motivator in staying still to think about those sort of things. The bag he'd had on his back is gripped tight in his hand, deadweight as he continues to simply lay there, and when the world finally comes back to him, he sits up with a little more intensity than probably necessary. The last thing he remembers had been breaking into the Raft, so the water hadn't been too much of a surprise until he'd found himself crawling out of a fountain rather than in the middle of the ocean, and he's a bit unsteady climbing to his feet, taking the bag with him as he shakes out the green scrub top. It continues to stick to him, so it does little good to continue doing it after a few tries.

A sigh, and he turns to look around. The roads that split and separate, the houses in the distance and the few people can can see— Steve frowns. It's strange, disbelieving. He feels as if he's just woken up again in New York seventy years later, but the reality of it is that he's no longer in a city. He's... Well, he doesn't know where, but he isn't going to stay in one spot until he's found someone willing to answer the questions he has. Another glance at the road, and he decides to cut up right through the middle of the grass, sticking close to a few of the houses that pop up along the way until he sees someone close by. He does his best to look unassuming, but he's still soaked to the skin, dragging a hand through his hair before calling out to them.

"Excuse me." Because manners are important in strange places with strange people. "Do you know where we are?"

When he finds his way to the police station, his clothes aren't nearly as soaked as they'd been coming out of the fountain. There's still too much for him to process, and it seems as if no one's actually working in the building when he approaches the main entrance either. Steve looks through the windows and sighs, shouldering the bag he'd been carrying around before taking a seat on the steps just outside the doors. If there weren't any local authorities, that had the potential of being worse than some, and it's not as if he's actually seen many others around. It's as if it's deserted, much too empty to be a real town. What's going on is the thought just at the tip of his tongue, and he rubs at the back of his neck, expression drawn thin. It's not going to deter him though, and if no one's approached him while he's sitting, he's already off on the next stop down the road—wherever that might be.

Yet, he doesn't get too far. There's someone up ahead, and Steve throws out a low, "Hey!" before picking up the pace to run after them. If they happen to think he's chasing them... He might just keep going until they relent and talk to him.