Everybody wants to rule the world

[maskormods]

WHO: YOU.
WHERE: Downtown Cape Canaveral
WHEN: Wednesday January 15th, around 5 PM EST
WHAT: Willkommen, bienvenue, welcome.
WARNINGS: None anticipated; let us know if this should be edited.

Cape Canaveral. It's no longer the heat of the day and in January the temperatures will be livable; not too hot and not too cold, either. A pleasant change from the City, perhaps. The sun is on its way to setting but the last light of the day still fills the sky, bursting the city into color. The air smells like ocean.

The locals are friendly and smile and wave, looking on at you in awe. They'll approach if you ask for help, or a question, but they don't want to interfere, either; if you want to be left alone you probably will be. American flags can be seen in many windows and restaurants are rolling out their dinner menus. There's no parade, no big banners, but many storefronts have handmade signs and posters that read:

Welcome, imPorts! We love you!

The woman at the Porter told you what to expect: You know what your tattoo means, you've been given your file, and you know in a few hours they're going to be here to answer more of your questions and see if you'll stand with them or if you'll go off on your own. "It's your decision," one of them had said, but you were already told what you get if you agree and what you don't if you don't. After that's done, she told you, you'll be driven to your new homes.

In the meantime, enjoy the area, or try to. It may not be what you're used to, but after the apocalypse even Florida might seem like an improvement.

Comments

open

[glassbox]

[ Of course they'd ended up in a place even farther from Canada than before. And humid. But those were probably small complaints, compared to an impending doom. At least the people here seemed pleased to see them. It was almost a little unnerving -- jarring somehow, after everything that had happened. But Lil Crawley was nothing if not adaptable. She had certainly survived worse things than a little humidity and an overly friendly welcome.

She kept touching the new tattoo on her wrist. She'd never had one before -- it had been impossible, with the bioaura protecting her skin. Even with the mark invisible in the light, she imagined she can feel it there over her pulse. There was no explaining why she dwelled on it -- it wasn't as if she was a stranger to being a government's superhuman. Maybe it just reminded her too much of Neverland, of the marks they would give the mutants in the containment camp.

The thought had her grip tightening on her file. She forced a heavy exhale. Everything would be fine. Everything seemed fine -- maybe even too fine, after everything that had happened. It was hard to trust it. Seeing a familiar face or two would probably help. Just to make sure they were alright. Just to make sure they were there. Decisions -- what to do with all this -- could come later.

She walked along, only pausing when she noticed one of the signs set up in the store fronts. Absently, she touched her fingertips to the glass, lingering on the words. We love you. Out loud, to herself more than anyone else: ]

Y'don't even know us.

[fronttowardenemy]

[ That invisible tattoo on her wrist is covered by one gloved hand. He catches her wrist, to catch her attention, as his voice will come from lower than she remembers. ]

Lil.

[ These people, whoever they were, fixed him up with a functioning wheelchair. There is a certain gratitude, but his frustration bleeds through above all.

He thought the Porter was supposed to resolve things like this. It solved death, but not injury? Maybe the mess of the end of all things left the Porter less than functional. It all makes a certain sort of sense, but that doesn't ease his irritation.

This isn't the condition he wants to be in, now that they're trapped somewhere new. He's immobilized. He can only fight a fraction as well as he'd used to, and he's not going to be going anywhere on his own like this. How many weeks will it take to repair two broken legs?

He somehow doubts this place has any miracles with medicine.

When he sees her, it's natural. He has few allies left in this place, and he trusts her. She's stubborn, and she's foolish with her emotions, but she's loyal. Lil is someone he would trust with his life, after everything that's happened, and few people earn that status anymore. He's has that trust abused before -- but not her; he no longer has any doubt that it couldn't come to that with her.

He may regret it. ]

[glassbox]

[ her arm instinctively tenses, muscles tightening through her shoulders when he touches her, a reflexive and almost defensive sort of surprised annoyance rising in her expression until it's washed away by recognition. she doesn't seem sure what to make of him at first -- maybe because what time they had together during the "end of the world" still seems surreal, or because the sight of him in that wheelchair is a little jarring.

but he made it. he's here. relief floods her chest. ]

You've looked better, old man.

[ it's a little fond though, betraying her relief. she can't help that. ]

If you're gonna try an' bail on me later, I feel like I'm gonna have t'give y'some kinda head start.

[fronttowardenemy]

[ There is a comment on his tongue which almost escapes -- you like it anyway -- but he bites it back. It's oddly easy to get back-and-forth with her, after what's passed between them, and that's a bad habit to form. ]

Looked worse too.

[ Frank releases her arm now that he has her attention, moving back to the armrests of his chair. ]

Not sure about that. [ A beat as he gazes around them. ] Might be wise to bail here.

[glassbox]

[ lil knows bad habits -- and making bad habits out of people. but she cares less about that than he does. it's probably better for him, to resist the urge to tease her. what already transpired between them is still fresh in her mind, feeding her affection in a way he might have disapproved of. ]

Yeah? Y'got some kinda jet pack hidden in that chair a'yours, hon? 'Cause I don't think you're gonna get real far.

[ she pauses, sighing lightly. ]

Y'could at least wait 'til you're actually walkin' again.

[fronttowardenemy]

Funny.

[ Her taunts are another dangerous thing, but he's learned to accept them and brush them off. He leans back in the chair, watching her with his good eye. ]

Meant this. [ A nod, indicating the surrounding ceremony. ] Obnoxious.

[glassbox]

What, y'don't like the welcome wagon?

[ another taunt. she isn't really surprised. it doesn't seem like the kind of thing frank castle would appreciate. not that she's really enjoying it either. between the tattoos and the files, it bares a vague resemblance to the containment camps that still makes her uncomfortable.

still, she's always good at keeping her strong face on. ]

Figures. When this is over, all I want is a warm bath and a bed. Can't get me to the goddamn housing fast enough.

[fronttowardenemy]

Do you?

[ Even with her dismissive words, he can see her discomfort under the surface. Her response catches his attention, and one brow arches towards her. ]

You'll accept it then, and register with them?

[glassbox]

[ she hesitates under his scrutiny, but after a beat, her response comes in a voice than downplays her uncertainty: ]

Might as well. Ain't like I'm a stranger t'working for the government. An' wouldn't hurt t'have someone backin' me up in a new place anyway.

[ another pause then, as she considers him. ]

Ain't really your thing though, is it.

[fronttowardenemy]

[ Her response makes enough sense. He supposes she has no real reason to run or hide from this, and there are benefits.

Benefits that he also needs. ]

No. [ He says it plainly, then directs his stare down at his legs. ] But won't do well with this without a doctor.

[glassbox]

[ she senses the shift in his attention, her own eyes finding his legs -- remembering, for a moment, how awful they'd looked when she'd uncovered them, broken and bloody. dwelling on the image forces her to glance away, though she disguises it by lifting a hand to tuck hair behind her ear.

lil does her best to sound nonchalant enough when she answers: ]

So stick around a while. 'Til you're better. See what happens.

[fronttowardenemy]

Had a feeling you'd say that.

[ It's more of an undertone when he says that. It isn't with any disrespect. It is what makes the most sense, as reluctant as he is to admit to it. ]

Seems to be the only option.

[glassbox]

[ she isn't sure why hearing that admission makes it a little easier for her to breathe. it's reassuring somehow, that he won't just up and vanish -- at least not now. there's never any promises for later, not with this man, but she's stopped banking on promises anyway. she'll take whatever time she can get. ]

Well, don't sound so goddamn cheerful or anythin'.

[ the words lack any real bite. ]

It won't be so bad. I said I'd take care of you, didn't I?

[shutterbugged]

It's all a bit hinky, isn't it? I feel like I'm in an episode of The Twilight Zone or something.

[The reference will seem even more apt once Spidey learns a bit more about the history of this place. As it is, he's getting the heebie-jeebies, and every time he thinks he just needs to get some sleep, he remembers the tattoo currently hidden under his web-shooters.]

[glassbox]

[ at the sound of another person's voice, lil seems mildly startled out of her thoughts, head turning towards whoever had addressed her. her instinct is to frown, eyebrows pulling together as something like the urge for confrontation rises in her gut -- she had a bad experience once, with a spider-man.

but not this one. she recognizes that, and the budding aggression subsides. still, she puts one hand on her hip. ]

Probably better than bein' dead, anyway. [ a skeptical beat. ] Y'really gonna go around dressed like that?

[shutterbugged]

[Spidey's not quite sure where her momentary belligerence comes from -- well, apart from surviving the death of a universe and washing up on the shores of another one with non-consensual tracking tattoos, which is really more than enough once he thinks about it in those terms -- but he holds up his hands, making placating motions until it subsides.]

Most things are, when you think about it. And I didn't exactly have time to pack before we left -- the other place, y'know?

[glassbox]

Yeah. Most things are.

[ they can at least agree on that. she'll take this new universe over the old one, or her home world -- death is a distinct possibility, even a certainty, in both. but it's still a strange and foreign place, reeking of americana. not really her cup of tea.

it's a bit wry when she goes on: ]

Bet the folks around here 'preciate your color scheme anyway.

[shutterbugged]

Heh. I almost hope Captain America shows up again, just to see the look on his face when he sees the decorating scheme.

Don't get me wrong, I'm as proud of my country as the next red-blooded 'Murrican, but -- [And already he's paranoid enough to look around to see who's listening in before he continues. Luckily, whatever regard the locals have for imports extends as far as giving them their privacy. There are a few curious onlookers, but no one within hearing distance.] I mean, I've seen Fourth of July picnics that were more laid back than this.

[glassbox]

[ she understands the implication. even though she's the reckless type herself, experience has taught her to at least be distrustful, if not outright cautious when it comes to things like this. everything is so set up, so prepared. it doesn't take much imagination to think that there must be systems in place for those that resist or disagree too much.

her mind hasn't completely let go of the vague similarities with the mutant containment camps. but she doesn't voice her uncertainties out loud. instead: ]

That mean y'don't wanna sign their papers?

[shutterbugged]

I don't know what I mean, if we're being honest. I'm just-- [he rummages for words]-- tired of being jerked around, you know? There's always a catch somewhere.

[glassbox]

[ it's true. her life experiences have taught her the same thing. she's rarely inclined to think that anything so secretive and vast as a governing body is really ever on your side.

still. ]

Better than the welcome we had back at the last place though.

[shutterbugged]

Yeah, that is a point in their favor. Although, it'd be hard to get a worse welcome than some of the places Lachesis sent us in the last year... [He shudders. And he wasn't even one of the ones sent to Asthenoa.]

[glassbox]

You're tellin' me. Guess we can at least thank the damn machine for not sendin' us back t'any of those places.

[ no fond memories. none at all. honestly, on the surface at least, this place is relatively nice. pleasant even. maybe too pleasant. time will tell. ]

I'll take housin' an' jobs over collars an' prison ships any day.

[shutterbugged]

You can say that again.

[And yet, he finds himself looking at all the store displays again. His shoulders twitch.]

Still. I have this feeling, and I really hope it's just paranoia...

[glassbox]

Maybe. Maybe not. Guess we're all gonna find out, huh?

[ she shrugs lightly, making her words come off a bit nonchalant -- though really, it's not that she doesn't care so much as she's not afraid of what comes next. maybe that comes with the invulnerability, or the headstrong attitude. ]

'Least right now, I figure most of us could use a shower and some clean clothes. Safe place t'sleep wouldn't hurt either. 'Specially for the kids.