worthallthis | The Last Voyages: IC Inbox

[The pyramid is coming along nicely and is actually rather impressive. Steve takes care not to bump the bookshelf too much. He wonders if the soldier was, once upon a time, into playing with LEGOs. Something he'll have to ask the other Steve about later.]

Oh... Yeah I did hear that sort of thing could happen.

[One glance tells him it likely wasn't a great experience. He shelves a few more books before speaking again.]

If you want to talk about it...

[The offer will hang in the air and he watches Bucky out of his peripheral.]

[Sadly, Legos did not exist when Bucky and Steve were children, or he so would have been.

He hitches the right shoulder, the one closest to Steve.]

Just means. There's two whole people in my head, now. You didn't see me. Him.

[That's a guess. Steve would probably not have asked what he did if he'd seen him. Buck-the-knife-thrower was fairly hard to forget.]

['Two', he notes. Not 'three', including the breach version. Unless he excluded himself entirely. That's a rather disquieting thought yet, somehow, not surprising.]

I actually didn't go near the circus or carnival at all, I'm afraid. So I missed who he was.

[That wasn't the point at all. He licks his lips, pondering just what to say.]

Somethin' tells me that number won't stay at two with the way this place works. I can still remember that idiot on the train. I won't ever forget that fucknut. Not for any sentimentality, but a vampire's memory is like a vault. Nothin' ever really goes away.

[He stops with the books for a second, half turns towards Bucky.]

I don't know if its the same for you, just as I don't know any pithy words of guidance. I guess... all you can do is either find a way to distract yourself til you forget or, somehow, learn the moral lesson the boss upstairs wants to impart.

[Provided, of course, there even was a lesson. He's not even sure of that himself anymore. His fingers tap on the book he holds; one of those 'touch and feel' sorts which, while at a severely lower level, was too cute not to pick up. Steve offers it to Bucky.]

What better way to distract yourself than with cute fuzzy things? Am I right, or am I right?

[Got it in one. He's not counting himself as a whole person. Or, really, a person at all. He feels nothing like those people did.]

Rogers had me write it all down. It's a lot to write. So it's taking a while.

[He looks vaguely put upon by that. It might help, maybe a little; at least it gives him reference points to check to verify when a feeling or memory comes from one of them. The book is accepted with a little uncertainty. He did specifically ask for children's books, and he doesn't actually have any experience with them beyond hearing Jedao read aloud to the eggs, so the idea that it might be humiliating for an adult to read a book made out of cardboard and fabric swatches doesn't occur to him. He's just uncertain, in general.

Setting it on his knee and noting the hole cut in the cardboard for the "feel" bit makes him blink. And maybe smile a little bit, just a little.]

Literally cute and fuzzy. It's got little. Fabric bits.

[That tiny smile is the most encouraging thing he's ever seen. Possibly one of the most rewarding and so painfully innocent, too.]

Y'see, lil kids will get into everything, so this sort of book helps 'em focus their attentions. Encourages associatin' certain textures to words, sparks curiosity.

Now, you're no lil tyke, of course, but I figure with you learnin' your words 'n all, this sort of thing would help. I read that certain children learning styles require more... [He rubs his fingers together. The word was there on the tip of his tongue...] Texture, tactile, writin' down notes instead of just hearing them. That kind of thing.

[His brows come up a little. He doesn't look offended, though-- he's actually kind of petting the little bit of faux fur with a couple fingertips. If he were capable, he might look amused; as it is, it's just kind of relaxed.]

I do know how to read, Steve. I've just never really. Done it much. Mission briefings, maps, that sort of thing.

[It feels different from Vesta's fur. Probably because it's fake, and also longer, but still.]

Thank you.

Right, and map readin', briefings, those are great 'n all but hardly the same thing as readin' for leisure. Imagination. All of that.

[Even if the children's books were a quick read and some of the animal books provided were more of the 'dull non-fiction' variety. Still... that tiny, cute smile. It was a start. Steve puts the final finishing touches on his shelves.]

And you're welcome. Happy to swap them out or bring you more as you need.

[He glances over at the feline, waggling his fingers in the stereotypical 'come hither' gesture to pets.]

Remind me again... where this lil gal - or... guy? - came from?

Misty and Randel. They have. A lot of cats. That is the one that seemed to like me best.

[He listens to the two, keeping them in the corner of his eye, though most of his attention is on the book, now, flipping slowly through the pages to see what new texture is on each one.]

Her name's Vesta. Godric helped me name her.

[Vesta does not seem interested in coming out from under the bed, just yet, though she is watching Steve. She's a dark tortoiseshell, not very big, with small ears and gold eyes.]

[Steve makes a mental note to snatch up more of those touch-feel books when another pick-up is required. To Vesta's reluctance, he does not appear insulted. It was something he'd half-expected, after all. He blows her a little kiss.]

The Lady Vesta is very, very beautiful. Well-named too.

[He glances from the feline towards her human companion, now curious.]

So... You're friends with Godric?

["Friends" seems pushing it a little. The Asset is not really sure what being friends entails, but one conversation and concerned oversight in the Enclosure doesn't seem like it ought to count. Even if a name and a piece of origami were exchanged.]

We spoke some. He seems nice. He used to be a slave, too. Let me into the Enclosure after a nightmare then just kind of. Followed me back here to meet Vesta.

[He tests one of the textures with the metal hand and is disappointed, but unsurprised, when he can't actually register it. Whatever sensors are in there, they aren't calibrated for that level of delicacy. Too bad.]

She wasn't particularly interested in letting him touch her, either. She just sniffed from the blankets.

Speakin' from experience with Godric, he is a great listener. The amount of times I spoke to him 'bout my marriage troubles, well, he practically became more my marriage counselor than prisoner. Not that either helped in the end but... That's life, right?

[He's intrigued too with the metal arm and its ability with textures. Equally disappointing. Tragic. Steve looks to the feline.]

Never been able to figure out why some animals dislike vamps 'n some don't. Its some kinda... sixth sense sort of thing. Dogs can smell we're innately "wrong" while with cats its more... [He waves a hand, searching for the right word.] A gut feelin'? Instinctual? I don't know. Never owned pets as a human.

Cats smell just as well as dogs. Maybe it's the same thing.

[Easier to talk about than to tackle the whole "marriage counselor prisoner" thing, because wow there's a lot there. He pauses to frown, and consider.]

You don't smell wrong to me. The lack of breathing is weird, but I got used to it. And I couldn't hear your heartbeat either way, right now.

[Steve blinks, surprised by the... sorta-compliment? Or so that's how he'd accept it.]

Why thank you. Y'know, I kept up the breathin' thing for a while, a psychological hangover I heard it called, but after a point, I guess it faded. You smell nice yourself, if you're curious. Even got used to the arm's odd scent.

[He stretches his arms, and looks back at the assembled books. It occurred to him suddenly that Bucky might want to read on his own, or feel self-conscious about it with someone else around.]

Wellllllp, I best be headin' on out. Leave you to get to readin' and permit the Lady Vesta her space back. [He half bows in her direction.]

[It's probably for the best. While he doesn't feel particularly self-conscious about it, it's hard to pay attention to a person and a book and a cat, all at the same time. Even books this simplistic.

He picks himself up off the floor, though, bringing the textures book with him, because just sitting there while Steve leaves seems rude. And also so he can say:]

Thank you. This is. A lot. But I appreciate it a lot, too.

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