etrayalogs | catch-all.

Harry's Hideaway Pub

The last time he'd been here was months ago with a certain Goddess of the Elements who no longer resides in Etraya. For the best, he thinks. Though the question of whether or not she'd been able to prove her version of their world was worthy to even be considered to be saved haunts him a little. If he's completely honest, though, there's a lot that haunts him — a lot he doesn't really allow himself to make time for, here or back home. Every now and then though, especially during the more quiet moments, they rear their ugly head and he goes through the motions of them all. Of course, hard to let them whisper in your ear when you're a couple beers in and have something from the eighties playing on the jukebox tucked away in the pub.

He'd been the only one in here, aside from the bots, but the moment the other makes their way inside, he's glancing over his shoulder there at the bar, dressed in a leather jacket and bright red glasses. There's only maybe two people he recognizes from his previous time(s) in Etraya and the blond here isn't one of them, so. Looking back ahead, he swishes the liquid around in his bottle a little, taking a second.

"I'd offer to buy you a drink, but that's never really been much of a thing here," to which he huffs a little around the rim of his tipped bottle. "Not even sure they check ID."

Edited 2026-01-06 22:12 (UTC)

There's really no reason for Steve to be here, in this bar. He doesn't really drink because he can't really feel the effects, but there's no price on alcohol and he does like the atmosphere. Sometimes. Misses it, even, the camaraderie of another stranger who might just be your new friend for an hour or two.

Seems like he's in luck when he sits a couple stools down from Scott. "Don't think they could if there's no established year," he answers. After all, at home he's technically in his nineties.

Though Steve hasn't met Scott, he does look familiar somehow, but he can't quite put his finger on it. "Is it always this dead, or just this time of day?" It's not like the days really matter here, since there's no work and no weekends.

The company is something he wasn’t sure he’d be getting here, but. He can’t say he minds it all that much. If he did? He’d be leaving right about now. As it stands, he takes another swig from his bottle, licking over his lips some as he gently taps the bottom of the bottle down against the bar.

"Been awhile for me, but. Can’t say the place has ever had a visit from the fire marshal," a beat, he stares ahead a little thoughtfully before he’s looking back over to Steve there. "Provided this place even has one to begin with." Etraya, he means. Aside from Aurora and the companion bots puttering about on the planet, there isn’t really much in the way of security here. Never mind laws with the potential to be broken.

Tips of his fingers rocking the bottle back and forth at the neck, listens to the eighties playing there from the jukebox before he’s looking back over to his company here. Again, not anyone he can say he recognizes, but since when has that ever mattered much here?

"So what do you make of all this?" A beat, to clarify. "You buy into the whole here to prove the worth of your world?"

Steve raises a brow and cracks a smile when Scott mentions the fire marshal because, no, he imagines that there aren't any emergency services in Etraya. A clinic, sure, but if anything, the robots would have to manage a fire, and fireproofing and drills. He couldn't imagine that'd be popular.

Then, Scott asks - that, which Steve has very complicated feelings about.

But he gets his least complicated feelings out first. "If you're asking if I think it's a real threat, I'm not sure. But if you're asking if I like the idea, I hate it." For him, the implication is that there will be worlds judged unworthy, unfit for existence. And millions, billions of life are held at knife-point by some invisible force that they can't fight against.

"Wish they'd just give us more information." Or lend them a spaceship to go do their own research. There's so many here from so many walks of life - they could work together. A bartender robot hands him a beer and he takes a swig, contemplating. Maybe, they still could offer to go on a research mission, to catalogue the threat.

"Well that would be too easy if they did." It's said dryly — sarcastic and filled with a thinly veiled attempt at not being frustrated by it. Because he is. Has been every time he's found himself here, regardless of how long or short his time might have been. The fact this is his third time here, even if the last had been something more of a blip, has him wondering if there's any real rhyme or reason to who they pick to come here or if it's merely all by accident.

He takes another swig — finishes off his drink and gently sets the bottle down, blue eyes that no one ever sees staring behind ruby quartz shades to the condensation the pad of his thumb gently wipes away down the neck of the bottle.

"Surprised they haven't pitted us against one another yet. Last one standing gets their world saved." The thought has crossed his mind before and it's not one he ever wants to find becomes a reality here. "Little hard to trust some force that never even shows themselves."

He means you, Echo.

It's true, Steve doesn't really trust Echo. He's got a lot of trouble with trusting Aurora - not to mention the other ones that are out there, apparently. Of course there are, but until they got confirmation from the ones that had been on Pollux, Steve wouldn't have thought about it.

But no, nothing's that easy, and Steve feels uncomfortable with the idea that they might have to fight each other.

He looks at Scott, and then says, "maybe they're waiting to do that." Buck had said they were trying to cut half. He has no idea why half - it seems a little bit arbitrary, but it doesn't matter. If Buck believes it, then Steve does too.

"How long did you say you'd been here?" He's just trying to gather data, but hopefully in a helpful way.

"Well that depends on how you want to look at it." Vague, sure. But he continues. "First time around, it was a few months, give or take. Second time, barely long enough on the mission I'd been brought in on. Third time? Guess we'll see."

His drink is done and he's not really looking to get another one from the companion bot around here. Probably shouldn't, not that he's a reckless drunk or anything. Scott Summers rarely lets himself get to that stage given the weight of all the responsibilities he's carrying, so. He pushes the empty bottle towards the edge of the counter to be taken away and looks back over to Steve there.

"What about you? Been around long enough to form an opinion on all this and these missions we end up on?"

He'd been brought around three times? That sounded suspicious, but not of Scott. More of - how stable is this place? It seemed increasingly like it wasn't, like maybe this would all fall apart before they got judged.

Or maybe that was just more scare tactics. Steve's more likely to believe the latter, particularly if it seems like Scott was getting too close to figuring something out and needed to be reset.

Steve hadn't even believed in brainwashing to that extent, not before they did it to Bucky.

"Well, my opinion's that they oughta give us a little more information if they expect miracles out of us," he responds, noncommittally. He'd decided that almost immediately.

"Think you're going to be holding your breath for awhile there." Given the fact that, from what he's observed in the time he's been back here for a third time, it doesn't seem as though much has been given in the way of concrete answers to things the people here are wanting to know. Maybe they never will. Doesn't mean they're going to stop though. They can't afford to, if everything said is true.

A shrug, having turned to face Steve better there and all, he rests his arm against the counter as he stares to the blond.

"Sorry. Not trying to be a debbie downer about it. Just telling it like it is." At that, he gets himself up — heads over to the jukebox there to pick a different tune. "Of course, wouldn't be surprised if they want us to just stop with the questions and keep doing what's asked of us. Get a little too close to the sun here and I'm sure they'll try and melt our wings."

"If they wanted that, they picked the wrong guy," he answers, raising an eyebrow. Steve isn't one to just take his orders and fulfill them with no questions. If they knew him at all, they'd know that.

He can't imagine he's the only one, here. Plenty of them seem the type. Hell, Scott seems the type to kick up a fuss, for all the twelve seconds that Steve's known him. After all, this is the first thing he'd like to know about Steve.

"You think that's what happened to you the other two times?" he asks. "Melted wings?" Very recently, one of Steve's best friends had disappeared. One who never would with what's at stake, taken at face value. So he wonders.

At the question, he shrugs.

"If it is, they made sure I don't remember anything about it." Despite remembering everything else about his time in Etraya and on Agora, brief as it was. Although, he can't deny the thought hasn't crossed his mind since his coming back here like he has.

New song selection made, he looks back over his shoulder to the other man then.

"I'm Scott, by the way," a beat. "Scott Summers." Since he figure he might as well give the guy a name what with their chatting and all.

( the danger room is likely the best place for this and so he waits for his younger counterpart outside it with his arms crossed. he's swapped the glasses for the visor, sleek in design and comfortable on the face, dressed in black despite it not being the uniform he usually wears. maybe he'll get around to asking for that at some point. currently, seeing to it that he gets his younger counterpart a visor for himself is more of a priority for him. even so, he still has his shades on him. just in case.

he's looking over the controls of the room, having familiarized himself with this version of what he had created back home before his attention pivots to the arrival of his other self and he nods as arms fall away to his sides. )

You ever been in here before?

[Scott actually shows up exactly on time, the teen strolling through the doors of the Danger Room with a look that's trying to be nonchalant. Is it working? Maybe not, but he sure is trying, that disaffected teen attitude more like a flimsy shield than anything else. Yeah okay, maybe he is a little nervous, even though he's the idiot that asked for this in the first place. Guess it's possible to ask for something and still be anxious about it, right? Sure, whatever.

It doesn't exactly help that his older, alternative self still feels like... him but also not him. He isn't about to take anything he said back or tell him to leave, but those weird feelings aren't going to fully disappear until a while. All he can do is just push forward?? He knows his place among the other mutants, he can't forget that. He and this Scott fill very different roles here, probably.

A deep inhale, before walking closer to him.]

Yeah, a couple of times, but didn't really do much. [...] This all familiar to you, right?

Somewhat. Can't exactly say it's the one I built back home, but. More or less has the same build.

( to say the least.

but he starts it up — watches the way the doors open and lets them in. he has an idea of what sort of simulation to put them in, but. before he goes ahead and does that, he looks over to the kid there alongside him. )

You wanting to join in with me or just spectate for a bit?

Wait, you built the Danger Room?

[No bother hiding his surprise there. He figured that older!Scott went through a lot of training sessions and the like in this place, but he didn't think the place was actually made by him. Unless he's just talking about the programs or whatever, the actual 'missions' that he's put into the system. Which. Is a little less impressive, but guess it's kind of cool still.

Whatever the case, Scott finds himself settling a little more on the edge, looking straight at what's happening in front of him and making his initial choice clear.]

Spectating. [And maybe, he looks a little more serious-- maybe determined in his own way, before nodding at his counterpart.] Show me what you got, Cyclops.

( spectate it is.

he runs over the controls — flicks through a few of the simulation options before he settles on one to start up. nothing too over the top. or at least, not that he can't handle on his own. as the simulation begins to load, he looks back to his younger counterpart, smile faint on his lips. )

At least the one I know. I had a lot of time on my hands.

( it was how he processed his grief and the guilt that came with jean's death... not that he's fully over that just yet, but. it had been a hyperfixation for him at least. got him out of his room.

but the simulation begins as he makes his way further into the room and while it might have been a hot minute since cyclops took lead with anything back home and he figures the practice could do him some good, he's every bit still cyclops in the way he approaches the center.

the room goes from cold and silver to battle worn dystopia, dirt and fire crackling amidst crumbling buildings. it's a team of holographic soldiers that appear. five versus one. their weapons being shock batons and flamethrowers. it's only after a resounding beep echoes through the chamber as a means to alert the start of the simulation that the soldiers make their dash for the lone mutant and cyclops is there to meet them.

the flames are the first to come and he slides his way across ground, dirt kicking up around him as a hand touches the side of his visor and a blast of bright red light fires its way long and sharp towards the first soldier, obliterating them into broken pixels. a baton comes down, crackling with electricity and its parried with the back of his forearm, knocking the soldier away only to dodge the swing from another one. another tap to the visor, red shoots from it again, sending the one soldier across the room just as he turns to narrowly avoid the coming down of that other baton. another blast, this time to the ground, and he pushes himself back with the force of it, getting him away from the soldiers rallying around him.

there's an intense brush of movement against one of the soldiers and he handles himself against the two versus one going on. he gets shocked on the thigh but brushes it off despite the pain with another blast to the chest of the soldier, obliterating them to pixels. two down, three to go, and he takes out the other flamethrower by way of blasting a large chunk of a crumbling building onto them, not only obliterating them from the impact but causing an explosion from the tank that sends him back and takes the other two soldiers with them. there's coughing to be had amidst the dust and debris...

...and that's when two red eyes glow within the haze from a distance, showing the outline of a large robot standing there. when the dust settles? most definitely a sentinel. if the way it largely booms SURRENDER MUTANTS wasn't enough of a giveaway there. )

[Stop trying to be cool because then he'll have to change his whole worldview and he has to cling to his teen angst and moodiness for as long as possible because it's what he's got okay. It's just a little hard between knowing that older!Scott actually built a whole fucking simulator and that small smirk just now.

But then, it begins, and there's no time to really think about anything else.

He's been in the Danger Room a couple of times to know that the whole room can change like this, but it's still a little startling to see the stark change. A battlefield already in session and more importantly, soldiers lining up to fight his older-- other self. Five against one... it's probably unfair and there's something in him that just wants to step in anyway, despite telling him just now that he wanted to spectate. He said that he wanted to just stand here, but isn't he tired of just standing on the sidelines?? Did he make a mistake, because it's starting to feel like it.

But the battle's already started.

And.

His mouth parts as he watches Cyclops fight off against the soldiers while using a combination of his own powers and martial arts. It's kind of impressive (and the world cool returns to his mind), especially as he manages to crush them all into disintegrating pixels-- one by one until the older mutant is standing alone with only one minor thigh injury to account for. Yeah, minor coughing, but everyone else is gone, defeated, and he even used his enemy's own equipment against them. It all happened so fast too that he's still kind of reeling from the fight.

Scott's about to say something, maybe actually walk forward from where he's standing-- but that flicker of red lights catches his attention and.... is that a Sentinel? Aren't they supposed to be decommissioned?? He saw them on the news ten years ago, but this one looks way more advanced and--]

Look out!

[Probably an unnecessary call out, but yeah he's worried, even if this is just a simulation.]

( simulation or not, you can still end up getting your ass kicked in here and have the injuries to show for it.

sentinels are something they use in the danger room back home as a means to both build teamwork and strengthen their abilities in needing to survive against a machine with the intent on slaughtering them. it's a very real threat that they, as mutants, have to face, and knowing how to handle the situation, let alone how to prevent it from getting worse, is something he's strived to have them tackle session after session after session. so this isn't new to him. whether or not it's new to his younger self, well. that's what he's curious about.

granted, it's not as though he's taken a sentinel on by himself before... or maybe there was that one night where logan had interfered, thinking their fearless leader was just trying to beat himself up via a sentinel with all the guilt and grief he'd been carrying, but. aside from that, it's usually a team effort.

but here they are.

scott's calling out to him catches the sentinel's attention and the machine begins to move, hand rising and energy building within the palm of it. before it can fire towards the younger mutant, it's hit with a red blast of pure energy from the older cyclops. it'd enough to push the machine back — to have it stumble some and fall to its knee. but like always, it gets itself back up — they always do — and it begins to fire at the older mutant.

the ground rips up, dust going everywhere, cyclops quick in getting out of the way and ducking for cover. he checks around a demolished vehicle — tucks himself back in quick when a beam is shot towards him, and starts running towards another means of cover as the heavy footfalls of the sentinel can be heard coming behind him. slow at first, then picking up in speed. a mutant's worst nightmare. )

[There's a moment of actual fear that beats in his chest when he realizes that the sentinel is looking at him, even though he's just standing in the sidelines. But maybe that's the point or at least what Scott is taking from this, that as a mutant-- especially one that can actually fight, there is no standing to the side when there's a genuine threat out there wanting to wipe out mutants. He's heard enough about them existing in the other timeline that he knows what they are, what they represent. How could he just stand right here, especially as his other self is fighting by himself? Running and taking cover as the machine tries to kill him.

It's a simulation, yes, but his growing anger, mixed in with determination and resolution, is not.

Although there's unfortunately something a little reckless to his movements as he runs forward into the battlefield, but he doesn't think about his own safety-- only pulling his glasses off with a shout to finally expel familiar red blasts from his own eyes as the young teen aims them straight at the sentinel's back.]

( he's sliding his way across a slab of concrete jutting out from the ground — finger on his visor the moment he turns around when he catches sight of that familiar red beam... except it's not from him. it's from the other direction, hitting the sentinel from behind, and it's from his younger counterpart.

he doesn't have a visor — is just letting loose with the removal of his glasses and he knows how tiring and difficult it can be to control the sheer raw power of it all unfiltered like that; that he's going to have to close his eyes. but it's enough of a distraction for the sentinel — makes it stumble forward and grab at the ground with a large, heavy hand, down on its knees again. it's turning back to see where the firing had come from, but cyclops is already there, aiming a blast of his own towards the neck of the machine with the intent to blast its head off.

he's about to — can feel the way it burns against the makeup of the machine, but then he's grabbed in a quick snatch and his arm is caught within the mechanical hand, away from his visor. he gives a shout as he's lifted up — as he's squeezed by the machine and boy, it hurts. he'd forgotten how much it can when grabbed up like this. )

[It really is hard to see anything like this. Honestly it's a little hard to hear as well, those concussive beams continue to hum through the air as they strike at the sentinel's back. At least he can tell that much, that he's hitting the large machine even though at the same time it's not enough and the wear of using his powers like this gets to him. He wants to keep going, he wants to push himself more, but the strain gets to him and with a raw shout, Scott closes his eyes against the onslaught of his own power. He's quick in getting his glasses back on, hoping that it's not too late or that he at least did something.

Unfortunately, when he sees clearly once more, the sentinel is still operating just fine.

And the sentinel isn't focused on him, its attention back on his older self and he hears faster than he sees Cyclops shouting in pain as he's lifted clean off the ground. He's going to be crushed, he's going to be killed-- all thoughts of this being a mere simulation gone from Scott's mind as he looks at the scene before him. Fear a bright spot in his chest once more, but also something else takes over too-- think clearly, assess what is best to do instead of just shooting at its back.

A weakened neck, the place where his older self was targeting before. Maybe that's the best chance he has and this time, with a little more focus, Scott centers his eyes directly at the sentinel's neck and tugs off his sunglasses once more to shoot his powers straight at it.]

( he's frantically trying to work his arm out of the sentinel's grasp — wriggling it so he can touch his visor and get himself out of here when, all of a sudden, he catches sight of that familiar red beam and watches as it slams into the crooked neck of the machine holding onto him. the force behind the blast is enough to jolt the sentinel forward some — for its hold on the older mutant to loosen and cyclops manages to get his arm out.

hand brought up, he touches his visor — unleashes his own blast of red energy towards the neck his younger counterpart is hitting from behind and with a loud shout around gritted teeth, the sentinel's head is severed off from the crossbeam assault on it, falling and hitting the ground with a resounding thud. cyclops is dropped as the machine topples over — lands backwards on a broken concrete slab but manages to get himself up despite the heavy landing, dust blowing up around them from the fallen sentinel.

the room around them flickers and the simulation ends then, leaving them in the metallic landscape of the danger room. rubbing at his side and rolling a shoulder a couple times, he slowly makes his way over to the kid there, smile faint on his lips. )

Was wondering when you were gonna hop in. Thanks for the assist.

[Has he used his powers like this before? A while back, perhaps, when Nate was still here in Etraya and they had to go on that mission in the desert. But even with all the danger surrounding that, this somehow feels different-- even knowing that it's a simulation. He doesn't know why, maybe because of what they're fighting, what it actually represents rather than some evil monarch or whatever that's completely unrelated to mutants. It's personal.

Or maybe because seeing himself, even if a different version of himself, in danger like that was all too real.

The only comforting thing is that returning shout coming from Cyclops, before the loud snap of machinery being ripped off breaks through the area-- all followed by a crash as the head lands nearby. He's pretty sure that he doesn't see a head anymore from where he's firing and so he soon shuts his eyes once more, silently hoping that it really is over this time, before swiftly replacing his sunglasses. Hopefully he'll see a destroyed sentinel.

There's a glimpse of that, something like relief shooting into his throat, before the simulation ends. Everything has returned to 'normal' like it never happened, like the danger never existed. But it does, at least in this other Scott's world. The other mutants world. Is it possible for sentinels to return like this in his reality? Sure yeah the government decommissioned them, but fuck, maybe they'd just send a nuke over at Xavier's Institute--

But Scott looks up as Cyclops walks to him and-- he's smiling at him??? His mouth parts, voice still temporarily stuck in his throat, before he nods. Just uh, give him a moment.]

I... I couldn't leave you to face that alone.

[There's a stray thought wondering if Scott planned this from the start, but he doesn't think more about it.]

I know.

( at that, he claps a hand down on his younger counterpart's shoulder. )

And I appreciate that.

( genuinely because... that got a little dicey there, even he has to admit. except he won't and, instead, he gives scott's shoulder there a reassuring pat before his hand is slipping away and he's making his way to the exit of the danger room. )

It's difficult to really see where you're aiming or if you're hitting anything at all with the glasses off, right?

( he's glancing over to scott as he goes, having observed him and his tactics there on the field despite being in some hot water with a sentinel. )

It's where the visor comes in handy. It can help you see better with where you're aiming and even increase or decrease the output of power. Sometimes you need a lot of it, sometimes not so much.

[Approval. Not really something he's used to getting from others, especially not from adults that hold so much responsibility themselves. It's a strange feeling that's made to feel even weirder because it is himself, but he doesn't dislike it. Honestly, there is something nice about rising to someone's expectations or feeling counted on-- he doesn't want to just be a burden to the other mutants especially. Yeah, they're all family and stuff, but... he felt like a huge burden to his parents most of the time.

But as Scott moves his hand away, starts leaving the Danger Room, he snaps out of his thoughts and soon follows.]

It really is hard. [He confirms, because why bother lying?? Also if anyone would understand-- yeah. Scott does his best to catch up, keep pace with the taller mutant as he looks up at him. Can he also gain that much height thanks--]

Honestly, just the idea of not needing to pull my sunglasses off every time I want to fire off a blast sounds so helpful. Then I can really start improving what I can do, right?

[...Already interested in training more, maybe.]

( another glance over to his younger counterpart, he nods, looking ahead after. )

It's definitely a start.

( certainly makes training a hell of a lot easier.

exiting the danger room, he rolls his shoulder back a couple times again. he's fine. a little banged up, but. it comes with spending time in a simulation as intense as that. besides, not like he's wearing any injuries from it... maybe a bruise or two that'll come in a couple hours, but. other than that, he's fine. definitely been through worse. )

I'll see what I can do about getting you a visor. Shouldn't be too much of a problem. If anything, I can ask Aurora for an extra one of mine. Then we can get you used to that.

Thanks, yeah. I really appreciate that.

[An offer that other Scott has made for him before, but now after fighting, after really seeing what he can do with said visor, it holds just a little more weight. Right now, the distance of power and ability between them feels steep... but when they were both blasting at the sentinel, it was the one time he felt like he could sort of measure up to his other self. Of course there's a thought of if he really wants to be this guy and there's still mixed feelings about that, a desperate cling to just be himself without emulating anyone else.

But he genuinely wants to protect his friends. The other mutants. That's always been his own feelings from the start.

Although looking more at the taller mutant next to him...]

For now though, shouldn't you rest or at least put some ice against your bruises? Can't have a version of me wandering around this place looking like shit. [...His way of caring, really.]

( at that, he smiles a bit, slight tilt of his head as he does. )

I've had worse.

( emotionally especially, but. not getting into that. likely ever.

clapping a hand to his younger counterpart's shoulder again, he nods as he steps away and starts to make his way towards the elevators to head back up to the main floors of the school. he'll probably take a look at what he's got beneath the suit — again, doesn't really think it's much to worry about. but a shower and getting something to eat is probably also a good idea, especially after that little workout. )

Anytime you want to take a crack at something in there, let me know if you need a partner.

[Stop trying to be cool in front of him!! Stop being likeable gEEZ.

But deep down, he really is thankful. He still has his place in this mansion with the other mutants and this other Scott really isn't bad... there's a lot he can learn from him and maybe he'll even try to talk to him. Normally. Maybe see the stuff he likes and completely roast him on stuff that's lame. It's not a bad thought.]

I'll let you know. [....] Soon.

[He kind of wants to get back into it!!]

catch-all.

— when summers meets rogers. (steve)

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— to me, my x-men. (teen!scott)

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buckle in kiddo.

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wrapped? :>