maskormenacelogs | this is what happens when you can't people

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this is what happens when you can't people

WHO: Kristoff Bjorgman and Karen Starr
WHERE: Somewhere in the Rocky Mountains
WHEN: Wednesday, May 7th
WHAT:Karen's not putting up with Kristoff's life as a mountain man.
WARNINGS: nah we're probably okay

Kristoff had gotten off of the phone with Karen with a good amount of his skepticism still intact, and then he'd gone on about his business. The weather where he currently found himself was decent and cool, a far cry from what he'd left behind in Florida, and he'd more or less decided to remain in this particular area. It had everything he needed nearby: an amount of woodland, a good water source, some decent climbing, and a pretty ideal amount of isolation.

At this particular moment, he was tending to supper, sitting cross-legged in front of a small fire with several small fish set up to cook above it. He didn't put a whole lot of care into cooking, and fish wasn't difficult fare, so he was looking silently into the sky when he thought he might have heard something.

It could've been almost anything, so, while he does pause to look around his immediate area, he soon gave it up. With a shrug, he turned his fish over and returned his gaze upward, watching dusk run its course and the stars settle in.

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Karen Starr can't just lift herself off into the air and fly over state lines in her civvies, so it's Power Girl who's got to be the one making an appearance over the skyline. She's disgruntled enough that she has to force a smile when kids wave to her down below and wish her luck wherever she's going. She feels bad.

She doesn't super speed her way to the Rocky Mountains, so when she finally arrives, she needs time to being combing through the land with super vision for any sign of Kristoff.

As she edges toward another area of the mountain, she notices thin smoke rising into the air and a small fire below.

Bingo.

It doesn't take her long to hover a good thirty feet above him, arms folded across her chest. She loudly clears her throat.

"I don't think those fish are cooked properly."

Once she comes into his field of vision, it actually takes Kristoff a good moment to realize what he's seeing, and even then... It image of somebody hanging in the air far above him doesn't register as reality, new rules of reality aside. It starts to really kick in when she speaks, and he starts, scrambling backwards from the fire. His hand automatically finds his hatchet, stuck into the dirt next to him, and he hurries to his feet.

"What is this?"

"Seriously, you should have left them longer. You'll give yourself a stomach ache if you eat one of those now."

Peej stares back with a flat expression, still in midair. The ends of her cape flutters gently in the cool wind while loose hair brushes past her cheek and chin before settling back into place.

"Hi, Kristoff. All packed?"

Obviously not, but she's in no mood to stick around any longer than necessary.

"I..."

Wow. It turns out she'd been serious. Okay. He took in a heavy breath and let it out with a huff that he meant to sound more annoyed than shaken. He hadn't counted on her actually coming out here, much less appearing in such a strange fashion. He crouches and knocks the head of his hatchet into the dirt again before falling back into sitting.

See? He's solidly here, thank you very much.

"You can't be serious."

The corner of her eye twitches and she lowers herself to the ground, practically stomping over to Kristoff's side in a very displeased fashion.

"Very. Now seriously get your things."

She looks around to see what it is Kristoff has that needs to be taken back to Heropa. It doesn't appear to be much, meaning the flight back might be less bumpy than she expects it.

Kristoff opens his mouth to reply to that, but he doesn't exactly have the words, so he rolls his eyes and gets to to his feet again. He reaches for the hatchet one more time, and then picks up a knit hat from the ground and shoves it onto his head. He shuffled over to his pack, dropped the hatchet in, and, just like that, he's sullenly collecting his things.

He's still trying to come up with a suitable out, though. He still doesn't see why being in Florida is apparently so important, and... He might have gone back by himself, if it was Anna that had asked him, but it wasn't. Anna's gone, now, maybe stuck at the base of a cliff with ice in her heart, and going back to Heropa doesn't help that. Nothing does. Florida's just this too-hot place with nothing but people and pavement.

"I don't see why it's so important," he muttered, bending to pick up a couple of pickaxes. "You didn't have to come out here."

Some of her irritation dissipates watching him, suddenly her expression much more empathetic than it had been a mere ten seconds ago. Her arms unfold and drop to her side as she heaves an exasperated sigh. She rolls her eyes.

"I came out here because I'm worried. Nelson's gone." She pauses for effect before continuing, "The last time I stopped paying attention to my housemates, one of them started acting pretty damn weird."

And she had had to knock Nelson out, but she'll um, keep that to herself.

"If something happened to you out here, I would be angry with myself. And I'm sure you've got friends who would be worried back in Florida."

He's about to ask her why she'd be angry if he hurt himself, because that would be his fault, but... Friends. He deflates a little more at that, but tries to recover quickly with a shrug.

"Well, I... Not really, no." Which might sound sad, to somebody like Karen, who doesn't seem to see the world in the same way he does. He's sure it's the truth, though. He might have acquaintances, sure, which is an improvement on his life before, but... Nothing so invested in as to cause people to worry.

... Except maybe Karen, apparently, and that gives him pause. He's not sure how to address it.

"Nelson... People just disappear sometimes, right? They go back home?"

"They get ported back home, I guess." Unfortunately, without solid evidence that they're not simply being strewn somewhere else across the universe, she has to take it on faith that Nelson's back home, safe and sound. Happy, too. She may not have seen eye to eye with him on some topics, but he needed to de-stress like whoa.

"And you do have someone who would be worried: me." If he's not going to address it, she sure as well will without an ounce of hesitation in her voice. "It's kind of my job," she motions to her costume, "If it's not obvious."

Okay, well... Kristoff's not sure how her funny getup makes that obvious, so he just squints at the presentation as he tries to pick up on something he's missed. She's definitely got her legs completely uncovered, and she is definitely, er, well-endowed, but he doesn't see what that has to do with her worrying.

"I don't get it. I thought your job was computer stuff,” he finally answers, folding his spare articles of clothing to add them to his pack. He feels like he should say something else about it, and he gets it out after another doubtful pause.

“Anyway… I already said you didn’t have to worry, didn’t I?”

"My civilian job." It takes a few seconds before it properly clicks in her head. "I'm a superhero. I thought the cape alone made it obvious." Or maybe where Kristoff originates from, they have no concept of a superhero at all.

Well, in that case, this may have been slightly embarrassing, but she won't relent; she's not leaving without Kristoff.

"What are you so afraid of?"

"I'm not afraid of anything," he replies, quick and incredulous, and he sets his belongings down with a bit of a huff to turn sharply to her. "Why is everybody here so quick to insist that there's something wrong with me? I'm not hurting anybody, I just..."

He trails off at that, waving his hand agitatedly in front of him as if that might dismiss the whole line of questioning. He has to end on something, though, doesn't he? It won't just evaporate if he stops talking.

"I haven't lived with people in a long time, for lots of reasons, and I don't care that much about starting. If I want to live alone, shouldn't that be my own business?"

"You can live alone, but isolated from civilization?" She pointedly looks around to convey what she thinks is a sad, empty land. Sure, it's beautiful and clean and something to be appreciated, but she has her doubts even someone who's grown up as isolated as Kristoff wants to remain that way for the rest of his life.

However, her patience is growing thinner with each passing minute. Maybe she can't convince him after all and exerting physical force isn't the ideal method. She sighs again, looking pensive.

"Fine, take it or leave it. If you want to come back, I will take you. But if not, I'll leave." She tells herself she won't fret over someone being irrationally stubborn about having to deal with people, but the reality is she will. She has too big a heart not to. "But trust me, you'll regret it."

There's a long, honest moment of conflict within him. He wants to argue that civilization is overrated, that the satisfaction that comes from making your own way every day is something that's hard to beat, and, out here, there's no chance of being slighted by people. There's her tone, though, and the ultimatum... He can easily imagine Sven's level expression. The reindeer would take Karen's side, wouldn't he? Kristoff even has to stop himself from speaking Sven's side of the argument. Didn't you change your mind about people? You were doing so well. You'll miss out on a lot, up here. You already have.

"Fine," he answers at last, meaning for it to be irritable. It comes out too soft, though, so he tries again with a little more force, shoving the last of his belongings into his bad. "Fine."

He stands, and takes a steady look at her before he moves to snuff out the fire. Karen's well-built for a lady, but... Still. He snorts as he pushes dirt onto his makeshift fire pit with with boot. He's still a stranger to typical superpower logic.

"What, are you gonna carry me?"

Peej's back is already turned, but she rotates her figure to face him properly, surprise written all over her features.

"Really?" That was easier than expected. She lets her question hand in the air between them for a moment, still expecting Kristoff to take back his words and stubbornly plant himself in the ground or walk off.

When that doesn't happen, it actually gets a small, relieved smile from her.

"You ought to look into your own place if you value solitude so much," she scoffs lightly. "I don't exactly come up with a passenger's seat," she adds, gesturing to her figure again.

"If you don't call this 'looking into your own place,' then I don't know what to tell you."

Of course, he does know that she must mean looking for an already-built house in an already-built town or some such, but... Even when he'd had a stable job, that sort of thing had never really struck him as an option. He can't even imagine how obscenely expensive they must be against the kind of work that he was able to get in this world. He might just have to stick to the house with Karen and John, which isn't bad. Karen and John aren't bad.

Regarding her lack of seating, Kristoff shrugs, still looking down at the fire pit even though the fire's taken care of. The thought gets a syllable of laughter out of him, and he returns the quip after a beat. "You never know. That could be part of your magics. You can already fly. Who knows what else you can do?"

Magic?

Her hand presses against her stomach and she tilts her head back to laugh into the sky at the thought. Oh, boy if only Kristoff knew about her initial confusion as to where she or her powers originated from some years ago.

Her laughter dies down to soft giggling, trying to keep a straight face now.

"It's biology, Kristoff. I'm not magical." She's certain if that had been the case, she would be dressed differently. "Do you have anything you need to bring back?"

Okay, he doesn't get what the sudden joke is. This makes him positive that he's being laughed at, which makes him scowl just so. He doesn't know how these things work, uncommon as they're supposed to be. In his world, anything remotely similar to the tricks pulled here is magic, plain and simple.

He's almost over his moment of pout as he moves to grab his pack again, slinging the strap over a shoulder. His feelings are still mixed, and that much is obvious enough from his stance and expressions.

"Just this. Is that alright?"

"That's fine," she nods, not at all worried about the contents of the bag or Kristoff's size. She's very nonchalant about it overall and as she lifts herself higher up, she dips so she can get both arms under Kristoff's and haul him up into the sky with her. "Hope you aren't afraid of heights."

Because up they go. High up.

Seeing somebody else fly is really weird. He keeps waiting for her to fall and keeps expecting to catch sight of something (anything) that's holding her up. He doesn't get any magical answers on that front. All he gets is his personal space violated, and he almost squirms away as she hooks her arms under his.

"Oh, no. No, no, no, no."

It's not that he's afraid of heights. He could hang off of a cliff-face hundreds of feet up and hardly think about it. It's being up in the air without anything solid to cling to. That's the problem.

"Oh, no. You're sure we're not going to fall?"

"Don't move so much," she orders firmly as they sail away from his campsite slash makeshift homestead the past few weeks. The further they get, the tinier it looks.

In the meantime, she adjusts her hold on Kristoff so she hooks her arms around his waist instead. Her grip is firm enough, but it's usually hard for first time flyers to tell from her own experience. It's normal to feel afraid, but it only makes things difficult for the both of them if they start panicking midair.

"Unless there's a red sun, I'm not going to drop you."

Kristoff tries not to violently squirm or cling as she moves her hold to his waist, and... Wow, this is really kind of very and intrusive-feeling, considering he's a guy whose personal space is usually miles wide.

A red sun? Like the sunset, or..? He lets out a slow breath at that, still trying to find a good level of calm. This is probably worse than the jet.

"I don't know what that means, but okay."

"Don't worry about it," she chuckles, keeping a solid handle on him.

She's always loved the feeling of flying. A plane doesn't quite cut it. Having the wind in her hair, maneuvering gracefully through gravity, the cooler air up here, and how you could really appreciate the scenery from high above.

The Rockies may not be her ideal living situation, but there's a reason it's a popular tourist destination.

"It's going to take us a while to get back."

"Yeah?"

Kristoff isn't doubtful about that. It took a while to get over here in the first place, and he's sure that jets must be faster than people whether they're flying or not.

He doesn't have a whole lot to say, after that. He's not good with casual conversation or confrontation beyond his own huffiness. He thinks that he's supposed to have something to say to all of this, but dwelling on it leaves him ultimately empty-handed. Slowly, he un-tenses, but he remains quiet.

This must look ridiculous, and he's got nothing for it.

"I could go at superspeed, but I don't want you vomiting all over me."

First time flyers.

"So what made you change your mind?" It's a long trip back and she doesn't want to deal with uncomfortable silence the entire way, especially if he's going to be back in the house with her until he's found his own place.

Oh. They're talking, after all. While being prompted with questions might make having something to say a little easier, it was still hard to find the right words.

"I'm not-- It's just-- If it's such a big deal, I'm not going to keep wasting my breath arguing with people," he said, trying to resort of general huffiness again. That didn't answer the question very truthfully, though, and... If he was going to try, here, he could at least put some effort into it.

So he sighs and tries again. "I... I felt a little better about people, I guess, before I got here. It was kind of good and kind of bad, but... I'm not really going to figure it out if I avoid everybody again. I mean, I'm already missing things."

She's genuinely surprised by his admission, tucking in her chin to get a good look at him as she shifts their direction slightly to the right and lower so they're not soaring too close to clouds.

"What did you do back home, Kristoff?"

The change in direction is a little nerve-wracking. Every little turn is probably going to be like that. He'll just have to deal, focus on the conversation instead.

He'd been speaking about people, and changing, so... He isn't sure if she's talking about that or about what he did in his day-to-day, his job. That's the easier option, though. The other one involves more of an explanation, and he'd rather keep it simple.

"I harvest ice. Or... harvested, I guess. Um. We didn't have refrigerators, you know, so I cut blocks of ice from lakes in the mountains."

"Couldn't have been an easy job," she muses aloud. Sure, Kristoff's a big guy, but who knows how long it takes to break the ice apart, load it, and then carry it wherever it's got to be delivered.

Unless he works with several others, but it's obvious Kristoff's not much a team player.

Kristoff shrugs at that as best he can in his current position. He wouldn't call it easy, no, but it was gratifying in its own way. It gave him plenty to do and to think about.

"It's hard work," he answers plainly. "I like it, though. It kept me busy and helped me stand on my own. I had my own sled and everything, and a spot in the square where I could set up to sell. It wasn't much, but it was mine, you know?"

"Okay, so you value independence; I'll give you that. Before here and well, the other universe, I had my own business and place, too."

She's had to pull countless hours at work just to scrounge enough money to put aside. She's determined to set up a small business of her own, seeing as how this world is also the perfect place to set up an R&D firm similar to Starrware back home. However, the amount of times trouble has cut into work hours and pulled her from the desk has set her back.

But she won't tell Kristoff she could be working right now. It blows, but in the end, she has to prioritize the safety of others over her own ambitions sometimes.

The joys of being a superheroine with too much on her plate.

"Tell you what: when we get back, I will help you look for your own apartment. If you want to be your own boss, I can help with that, too."

Kristoff isn’t sure what to think about the offer for a good moment. He processes the pros and cons with a small frown in place. While he did value his space, being alone in the city and being alone in the wilderness were two different beasts, and he couldn’t imagine being able to afford that sort of thing. Even by his own world’s standards, he’s uneducated, but he’d been able to make his way with skilled labor. Here, his specialties didn’t count for anything, and his education was even more lacking against the plethora of knowledge and skills that modern people seem to possess.

He wouldn’t mind feeling less adrift, though, even if it took some trying. If he’s got to stay here, maybe it was best to just own what he could of it. He figures, then, that Karen’s suggestions are reasonable, it’s just a matter of getting there.

“That’s… I could try that,” he answered, even if uncertainty lingered in his voice. “I don’t know what I could do, though. The world’s different, here.”

"You could have been learning it rather than shutting it all away." She's trying not to patronize him, but the phrasing is still a little aloof. Peej shakes her head before training her eyes on the commercial flight in the distance. No, it doesn't look like she'll have to adjust their direction to avoid it.

"I figure it's an entirely different time and world, but the fact is you're here now. You've got to try and make something of it."

"I learned about the Zamboni machine," he offers in his defense, maybe with a bit more pout than necessary. Kristoff's not used to any form of lecturing, especially when he has to acknowledge the merit of an opposing point, no matter how well-meaning.

"I'm not sure if that's any good, now. I kinda ditched the job."

A Zamboni isn't a bad place to start, but "kinda ditched" means he's been fired and she doubts they'll hire him back, imPort or not. That kind of attitude leaves a bad taste in any employer's mouth.

"Are you registered?" She rolls her eyes a bit, out of annoyance with herself to actually resort to that idea. "They can help find you a job if you're having difficulty. Wouldn't they cover training expenses as well?"

"I'm not," he answers, shaking his head. His tattoo reads 'UNSETTLED,' which seems fitting enough even if it's not helpful to his current situation. He gives it a moment of thought before shrugging. "It doesn't matter. I'll just... I'll find something simple, and I'll go from there."

That somehow surprises her.

"Why not?"

Most people she's spoken to so far seem pro-registration. While Kristoff has a tendency to go against the grain it appears, she wonders what his feelings are regarding the government's stance on registration.

"And it's not a bad idea. Not much in life comes easy."

"I don't like... I don't belong to anybody, and I don't want to swear to something that I don't get, without knowing everything that it's gonna entail, you know?"

Swearing loyalty to a military power seemed like risky business, especially if one's unfamiliar with the government and their policies. Any viewpoints that the United States might have held weren't necessarily Kristoff's own, and it wasn't his place to potentially fight for something he didn't fully embrace.

But... 'Not much in life comes easy.' At that, he snorts. It isn't dismissive, just... "Yeah. I know that. Seems like it's true whenever you're from."

"My life's been pretty complicated from day one, to be honest." She laughs quietly, though there's traces of mild exasperation in there as well. Last daughter of the multiverse sent from a dying planet to find family, only to lose them and her universe, and then her own origins for a long time.

She wonders what Kristoff's life is like back home.

"Don't sweat it about registration then; I'm not keen on it either. It's bad enough they branded us."

Kristoff's glad that she said something that allowed the subject to drop more easily. Getting into a conversation about life's hardship's wasn't exactly something he was keen on doing, whether she'd also had a rough time or not. Besides, maybe they didn't match very well. Day one had been fine, so far as he knew, and most of his rough patches were only things that lingered on the edge of his memory. They were done, and it was fine.

He looks down at his wrist again, rubs his thumb over where he knows the tattoo is. Branded. Right.

"Yeah. These people are strange."

"I don't think 'strange' covers it anymore."

It's straight up sketchy to Peej, but it's difficult to snoop around government and military offices without getting caught. She may not care about being Unsettled, but she sure as hell cares about being branded a criminal.

"We're going to speed up a bit," she suddenly adds and Kristoff will feel a slight boost in their speed. Hopefully his stomach can handle it.

He doesn't have much else to say about the people who brought them here. She's right. 'Strange' isn't heavy enough, but he can't find exactly the right word for what's going on. Luckily, he's not paid to know great, descriptive words, so he can easily leave it at that.

He nods when she says they're going to speed up, and tried to brace himself. Still, it's unpleasant. He breaths deep and swallows a few times, managing to hang on to his lunch. He'd done alright on the jet. He can get used to this. That, or he can definitely avoid flying from now on. That seems pretty reasonable.

All he has to do is not lose it until Florida. No big deal.

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this is what happens when you can't people

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