catch-all.

[redvisor]

WHO: Scott Summers and others
WHEN: during the month of January
WHERE: Various spots
WHAT: A collection of things throughout the month of January, couple of OPEN prompts available
NOTES\WARNINGS: tbd in threads



OPEN PROMPTS

just a catch-all of things for scott summers/cyclops for the month, possibly leading into the next. there's a couple open prompts listed below but if you'd like something else with him or have an idea for something, i have a cr meme comment here or else you can always shoot me a PM to discuss whatever. his inbox is also always open for random messages if you're in the texty sort of mood.

Comments

— when summers meets rogers. (steve)

[redvisor]

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."

[pursuitofcappiness]

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.

[redvisor]

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?"

[pursuitofcappiness]

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.

[redvisor]

"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.

— open prompts.

[redvisor]

the junkyard.
( Well if there's any place that might have things one can repurpose around here, the junkyard is as good as any, so. That's where one might find an older Scott Summers on whatever day this happens to be. Red glasses, leather jacket, jeans that are definitely dirty from all the rummaging around, he's picking through this and that, trying to see what he can find and shove in the duffel bag he's brought with himself.

He's sliding his way down a particular mound of, well, junk, and tossing something towards the duffel bag a little ways from him... and missing. A tilt of his head as he gets to the bottom of that mound, he heaves a sigh and bends his way down to pick the piece up, tossing it again and, this time, getting it in. )

Second try it is.

the institute.
( The school's familiar to him both in how it comes across compared to the one he knows back within his own world and the previous time[s] he'd been in Etraya, but still not anything he knows inside and out just yet. But he's here now, after having given his younger alternate self a bit of time to figure things out for himself and while that's very much going to be a Work In Progress regardless, he'd waited for... himself, essentially, to be ok with it.

So where is this version of Scott Summers now that he's back in the school? In the garage, of course. Checking it out, seeing the lack of... so much here... and already figuring a few things out in his head with what to do with this space potentially. An idea he maybe had when he was here last but, due to his sudden departure, hadn't been able to bring it to life.

Looking through one of the toolboxes there, back turned to the entrance of the garage, when he gets the feeling somewhere's there, he only just barely glances back over his shoulder for a half second before he's back to moving a few things around in the toolbox in front of him. )

This where I ask if you're lost or you ask me that?