worthallthis | The Last Voyages: IC Inbox

That's encouraging. At least it's an easy thing that he actually managed to kind of ask for, and she doesn't seem to mind helping with. (She actually looks pretty happy to be helping with it.) "I have work after this. But any evening is fine."

He hesitates a moment, then says, "Rogers and I go to the Enclosure for stuff. Maybe every other morning. Will you help let us in sometimes?" This might be partly a test to see how she reacts to hearing how much time he spends with the guy-- he knows they don't like each other.

"I'm in the library most evenings, picking a room in there sound good? Figure you can just show up when you want to, and if not I'll have my own reading to do." No point in setting a strict schedule, nor a daily one. Higher risk of burning him out.

To the second request, she nods. Placid. Distaste, if it exists, doesn't show. "Of course. Same goes for anyplace you need that might be cut off, consider me on call for that too."

Good thing that last answer came with extra commentary, because it gives him time to quietly panic behind blank eyes at the idea of the library. "The library. Has rooms?" It comes out a little faint. He hasn't gotten more than a single step inside before the countless number of shelves turned into visual static and terrified retreat.

That delivery isn't unnoticed.

"Mhm. Further in, kind of around the perimeter. Whiteboards, tables, lamps, sort of for private study I guess? Quieter." The following sip of tea is more show than need. A gesture to pretend she's thinking more on it. "Not that we'd have to be there, if you want to pick someplace I can just swing by before I head that way."

He stares hard at his plate, and finally has to admit quietly, "Can't go in." And maybe he hasn't tried to tackle it yet. The wardrobe is almost comfortable now, but the library intimidates him. "There's. Too much."

"We could try easing you into it, but we don't have to if you don't want to." Bigger things to tackle, surely, but she wouldn't want to associate anything new, or herself, with discomfort. "Wherever you're comfortable, I'm fine. Greenhouse, deck, bowling alley, pool, doesn't matter."

"It's next," he mutters unhappily. "After the wardrobe. Just. Haven't started on it yet." The whole thing with the port interrupted him, and. Well. It's intimidating. Especially with people implying that the damn thing changes on you so you get lost in it.

And he doesn't suggest another place yet. Prod him, and he'll try, but he's kind of distracted by feeling stupid, now.

"No rush. If company'd help with that, though, I'd be fine with that too. Could do origami just in the entryway or something. Or right here, even. It's your call."

Because he should make some small choice, but it needn't make him even more uncomfortable.

Sitting in the hallway outside the library... has potential merit, maybe. He stalls with a few actual bites of breakfast while he thinks. "We can try just outside. Just. Maybe don't be too surprised if I can't." Why HYDRA thought it wise to make it so he can't handle endless bookshelves, he has no idea, and frankly it's annoying. It limits his effectiveness.

So do a lot of things he hasn't quite registered yet.

"No surprise. Easy."

There's no particularly triumphant way to take up a forkful of eggs, but by god she's trying.

"Anything else on your mind, or are we just starting with those? Origami and letting you into the Enclosure."

"And the library. Apparently." He's not sure what else he should be suggesting here, though. By her own admission, she can't really help him with the "getting better" thing.

She's still the warden, though. So he asks, "What would you suggest."

"No idea. Like I said, I don't know you that well." And he doesn't exactly give off the impression of someone waiting - possibly even able - to talk about themselves. A rarity. Seeming thoroughly unperturbed by this, she caps it off with a shrug. "I'd say maybe practice choosing things, but I can't get much more in depth than that from this vantage point. Asking for stuff, maybe."

"That's what the wardrobe practice is for," he says, more subdued. "And probably the library." If he can work up to going into the wardrobe and bring something he actually wants out of it, maybe he can work up to the library.

Even if it's intimidating.

"If you ever want to know more," he offers, only a little reluctantly. "You can talk to Rogers. He knows."

Another nod.

The second portion leaves her looking contemplatively down into her mug, as if the rapidly-cooling tea will convey how to explain what she'd like to without being confusing or upsetting.

"If I were in a real pinch I would, I think, but I don't know if I'd want to consider it a failsafe," she tries, carefully. "There's a lot you can get from someone's own telling of things, but more than that, it's...this place is weird." Obviously. "And people who come here can be different, maybe in not obvious ways. I don't want to just get a whole scoop without earning it, and I wouldn't want to risk parts not lining up."

He is a different person, even if only minutely. He is his own person. No Xeroxes.

"So I might end up just bugging you about it now and then, if it's all the same."

That's pretty much the opposite of what Steve thinks, there-- he's the same, he's always going to be "Bucky" no matter how he actually is. But it's also closer to how the Asset himself feels about the situation. He simply can't think of himself as the same person Steve expects him to be. Like there's some kind of cosmic mistake.

So he's silent a moment, staring at his meal, chewing on it uncomfortably, before he says, "I don't remember most of it. So I can't tell you much."

"Then that's just stuff we won't know," she concludes. "We'll learn at the same pace, or we'll just focus on knowing you like you are now. I'm not too worried."

He is as he is, and it's plenty.

"And if there's anything you're ever wondering in return, ain't a one way street. Any questions, personal or not, still on call."

He gives her right ear a vaguely skeptical look. "I am not good at asking things," he says. He doesn't even know what he'd ask. What do people even talk about when they're not wardens or prisoners supposed to "get better"? What even happens in their lives?

"Not saying you have to. Saying if you were inclined, you can. That's it."

Little by way of demands here, Asset.

He has a couple more bites of his oatmeal, which is starting to get cold. Then he does come up with a question, so he asks, "What's your deal. The thing you're here to get." He knows Ellie's. Rogers thinks it's the motivator behind wardens in general. And whatever he does, it will or won't help a person get something they desperately want.

"Don't have one." Matter of fact, simple. The initial pick was just to get on board and quickly abandoned, and the deal proper goes to Randel. Undoubtedly, he needs it more. "The one I've got is for Randel's world once we iron it out, and I don't have many ideas going forward. I'll play it by ear, mostly."

... huh. His brows come together a little bit, a small show of confusion. "Then why are you here."

"I like it here." Perhaps not the whole of the picture in either direction, but it's truth. "Interesting people, interesting places, not a lot of places that could offer as much."

The confusion goes away, but it's not really replaced by understanding. It's just the polite neutral again, which doesn't really show whether he believes that or not. (He doesn't, really.)

But if she doesn't want to tell him the truth, then he's probably not going to be able to tease the truth out of her. Conversation is not his strong point. So he nods a little. "Even when the place changes you," is all he prods with. "You like that."

"I do, actually." Unpopular opinion, she knows. "They're all me, just different. It's kind of amazing getting to experience that. So many near-lifetimes without any time passing for me -- it's a great learning experience." Thrilling, refreshing.

"Not as into floods, but nowhere is perfect."

The metal arm reconfigures under his sleeve, and he looks further away from her, uncomfortable. He can't see it like that. He can't. And he can't even say clearly why.

"So there's nothing you want out of having an inmate." No motivation for her to try all that hard (though she did seem very happy when Randel did the... thing). No motivation for him to need to help her by getting better (which is probably more of a problem). The thought that someone might do this just to help people doesn't even occur to him.

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