fablelands | one. the looking glass so shiny and new

Entry tags:

one. the looking glass so shiny and new

Who: Kamala Khan
What: arrival!
Where: Western Forests
When: October 23rd
Warnings: Child endangerment? Otherwise, it should be safe.

She fell asleep in class again. It's not a surprise really. Kamala has been burning the candle at both ends between her activities as Ms. Marvel and her life as Kamala Khan. Her brother is getting married soon! The Avenger team she's on is kind of tiny. They need her help or so she reasons.

Instead of drooling on her desk, Kamala wakes up in a forest. At first she thinks she's dreaming. Five pinches later? She's definitely not dreaming and trying to use her cell phone(s) and Avengers comm to get a rescue. It fails as badly as one can imagine in a place with no cell service or whatever Tony uses to get the Avengers comm to work most places.

Kamala is alone. It hits her how ridiculously unprepared she is to be randomly kidnapped and dumped in the woods. She does the only two things she can do after barely avoiding giving into tears: put on the backpack and start to walk. It doesn't take long for her to feel lost and exhausted even with her feet guided by some mysterious force.

It's about then she stumbles across a cabin. Kamala goes tiny, checks the place for people, and heading back in with her pack. Time for a raid for food and a quick nap. If anyone tries to get in through the door, she at least has the sense to put something heavy in front of it while she rests. Any time after? Well she'll be hiding under the bed if someone does manage to get in another way.

Once she has food and some rest under her belt, she back off again. Hopefully to reach civilization!!!

[ooc; Catch Kamala either wandering the forest or hiding in a cabin for a while.]

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The brain likes routine. As much as people might like to insist on being wild and free-spirited, as much as unpredictability may be a goal, the brain still likes a certain kind of routine. Bucky's own routine — the parts of his life that he could call routine — is pretty simple: exercise, keeping a low profile, writing down things he remembers, seeing to the basics of survival. Right now that last includes hunting as necessary, alongside exploration. He's no cartographer but Bucky's trying to build a rough mental map of the island.

He should probably also start a physical list of people he's met. He makes a note to do so, and two hours later — around what seems to pass for noon, judging from the position of the sun in the sky — he parks himself in a comfortable enough crook of roots at the foot of a tree, pulling food and a journal from his pack. The meal is nothing special: chicken and root vegetables, previously roasted but eaten cold. It's the journal that's more precious to him; he turns to a clean page in the book to start his list.

That's how Kamala will likely find him as she wanders through the trees: a figure clad in black kevlar, because with the lack of extra clothing options and a mysterious something at large (he makes a note to start a page for that as well), his tactical gear is the best choice for exploration. And though he's concentrating on his writing, it doesn't mean his senses aren't tuned to his surroundings; there will be no sneaking up on him, at least not by anything relatively normal. In fact, it's when he thinks he hears a sound not made by an animal that he looks up.

"Who's there?"

She immediately ducks behind a tree at the sight of the man. It's not enough. Kamala's been loud. She didn't really mean to be. It's her natural state of being. That might be fine if she hadn't gotten herself kidnapped and dumped in the woods. She takes a deep breath and reviews her options. The obvious answer is to go small, but then she risks losing the pack. She doesn't plan on going without food and supplies she does have.

Kamala slowly releases that breath and makes a judgment call. "... Someone who really hopes you're not an axe murderer?" She calls out from behind the tree. She's prepared to fight for this even while still hiding. Even without a visual, her voice betrays her age and origin. Kamala couldn't sound more like an American teenage girl from Jersey City if she tried. "You'd tell people if you attacked teen girls in the woods, right? It's common courtesy to give heroines a head start!"

"...Not an axe murderer, no." It'd been an innocent enough statement, Bucky can tell from the tone of voice, but it still cuts deeper than he would have thought. He sighs, running a hand through his hair. It's just a kid Barnes, get over yourself.

It's easier said than thought, but that's his life in general anymore.

"You don't have anything to fear from me." He can't help that his expression quirks into half a smile. Apparently, however they all got here, this place seems to like people from the tri-State area; first Peter, and now this girl. "C'mon out of hiding, Jersey."

Kamala huffs at being rightfully called out. Two can play at this game!!! She knows that accent even if reminds her more of the little old guys she encounters sometimes than anything else. "Only if you promise to be nice, Brooklyn!" She pops out of her hiding spot to stomp up to him by following the sound of his voice.

"Happy?"

"Can't promise that," he laughs, kind of surprised she's going with it — and surprised that he's retained enough of the old accent for it to be recognizable. That's a good thing, he thinks. He'd worried that his English would have too much of a Russian accent and while it's no fault of that language, he'll always associate it with HYDRA. "I'm from Brooklyn."

But apparently being from Brooklyn isn't overly off putting, because she does come out from behind the tree. Appearance backs up the aural impression of her age but Bucky still gives her a careful once-over. And he doesn't move to get up himself, because one thing he's learned is that his physical presence can be intimidating enough without standing and looming, and that isn't what he's looking to do. So what she'll see is a man with a metal arm watching her approach. He's closed the notebook in which he'd been writing, though it still rests on his lap, and he's got a half-eaten apple in his left hand. At her question he shrugs. "Better than talkin' to a tree, don't you think?"

"Fair point." Kamala concedes as she approaches. His outfit is pretty scary compared to a high school student's jeans and t-shirt combo. (Hers is tellingly with a Captain America shield on it.) She goes from ambling over to walking fast once she spots the metal arm. She can't check her enthusiasm even a little.

Kamala blatantly stares at his arm. "Totally! Sorry if it's totally rude to stare, but I've never seen a prosthetic this cool in person, Brooklyn! This is totally like the one Misty Knight has! Except hers is gold, but still! Amazing!"

Not many people have a positive reaction to Bucky's arm, which is why he looks a little taken aback by the enthusiasm. Then again, she must not know who he is and Bucky considers that a good thing. The shirt surely doesn't mean anything; how many such articles of clothing exist? Captain America and his associates are household names, from what Bucky has determined. But hearing that there's another person with the same kind of modifications worries him; what has HYDRA done now?

"...Stare all you want." He's not exactly unaccustomed to being the subject of scrutiny, and she at least seems kinder about it than most of the scientists who have worked on him. "Don't know anyone other than myself who has this kind of hardware."

Kamala glances up long enough to actually explain this. She doesn't look the least bit surprised he doesn't know who she is talking about. Misty is kind of niche compared to like Captain America. "Misty Knight used to be a cop! She was so brave and awesome that Iron Man gave her a new arm after she lost hers in a bombing. She's a private investigator and superhero now." The passion and respect is impossible to miss in her voice.

"Ah... that's something." It eases a little of the initial tension he'd felt on thinking of HYDRA, but the subject of Iron Man isn't necessarily a comfortable one either. Still, it's easy enough to see that she's clearly a little enamored of this Misty person, and the descriptor makes Bucky feel a little bit better about it.

Just a little though. It's not like the thought of any of the Avengers is a comfort to him.

"So she's your role model then?"

She shakes her head. The more she talks about this, the better Kamala feels. She rambles while the opportunity presents itself. "Actually no! Captain Marvel is my role model! I totally want to be just like her. I have healthy respect for Misty Knight and you know." Kamala points at her shirt. No point in being subtle about it. "They're really inspiring to me."

Bucky nods. Good role models at least, which speaks volumes because he doesn't get the sense that she's lying; he doesn't think anyone could fake that level of excited rambling and the sheer attitude of a teenager that surrounds her. "I'm sure they'd appreciate that."

Because Bucky only knows Captain America. (Only knows of him, not knows him, right? But it's complicated and he's not thinking about it right now.) To pull himself away from his thoughts he tries to move the conversation in another direction instead. "So how long have you been here, Jersey?"

It's an effective distraction. Kamala hums thoughtfully. "Uh... maybe a few hours, Brooklyn? To be honest it's hard to tell when you get super lost like five minutes in." She shrugs. She's a city girl with absolutely no idea what is happening here. Better figure out how to get home already. "So do you know who kidnapped us? Because I'd like to skip to the part where I punch them really hard."

"Wish I could tell you there's a map or something, but there's not. Have you met anyone else yet?" He's hoping she has, because Bucky really doesn't think he'd be any good at the welcome-to-wherever-the-heck-we-are speech. But he also doesn't think it'd be right to just not share the little he knows.

"Not a clue. Information about this place has been pretty hard to find." It's an understatement, but she doesn't need to know about that. "You might have to get in line for that punching though."

This is the part where Kamala laughs nervously. She needs that speech like crazy. "Uh... I met a giant dog who was super nice? And you." She shrugs helplessly. "Who else is here?"

“Bucky,” he says and, after a moment of thought, pats the spot next to him. It’s not something he’d normally do but nothing about life has been normal since arriving here. “My name’s Bucky. But Brooklyn is fine.”

Part of him too is curious to see if she’ll recognize the name, put it together with Captain America. He’s not sure if he wants that or not, or what he might do if she does.

“Not totally sure who else is here, not really. Seems to be only about a dozen of us, maybe fewer. Haven’t met them all in person yet, but everyone I’ve met has agreed so far: we’re not sure why we’re here, or even where here really is.”

He won't have to wonder for very long. Kamala's eyes light up in recognition. She's been taught well enough at this point not to interrupt information sessions. "Okay... that's bad. Like really, really bad." She crosses her arms over her chest. This is the part where she'd turn to Iron Man for advice. He's not here and neither is Carol.

"What should we do?" Congrats on your promotion to fill-in Carol and Tony.

He looks away when he sees the recognition in her eyes, unsure how to feel about it. She's not the first person to seemingly know who he is while he has no idea of her identity. It's vaguely uncomfortable.

"Honestly? I don't know." He runs a hand through his hair, because that's not easy to admit. "I've been concentrating on food and shelter, mostly. The second one is easy enough, since all the buildings I've seen are empty. They're not in the best shape, but they'll do. Food means mostly hunting or scavenging — it's taking a little getting used to."

Bucky is admittedly more used to hunting humans, but that doesn't seem like an appropriate thing to say.

"Okay I've gotten in on that a little. I found some food in a cabin I was hiding in." Kamala remarks before sighing. She needs to address the elephant in the room, huh? Metal arm and that name... of course she knew who he was. The trial was pretty public along with his time as Captain America. Kamala clears her throat awkwardly. "Listen...if you don't want to talk about who I think you are, that's okay. You're helping some random teenager in the woods after being kidnapped. You literally owe me nothing, okay? I owe you not being a total jerk who makes you talk about something you don't want to talk about. Okay?"

"That's good." Scavenging is probably her best bet, but that thought doesn't sit too well with him. He's not sure why. "But you let me know if it's not enough and I'll help you out."

He can't say he didn't think this was coming, but even so the statement gets a short, sharp laugh out of him. "At least makes one of us knows who I am." It's an awkward thing to say and he knows it, which is why despite her assurance of it being unnecessary, he still feels like some sort of explanation is in order. "No memories," he says, tapping his temple with the index finger of his left hand. "You probably know more about me than I know about myself."

Kamala's eyes light up with sympathy for him. She can't imagine not knowing who you are while someone else apparently has an opinion on it. She can't let that be how it is. "Then don't let me tell you who I think you are." Kamala is soft, but firm on that point. Now to make it a reality. "How about this? You can be Brooklyn and when your brain gets better, you can tell me if you feel like you're Bucky or someone else. Okay?" It's fair. He will get better. He has fancy supersoldier serum or something, doesn't he?

Sympathy and pity aren't surprising, even if they're not the easiest things to bear. Still, Bucky senses that they're honest enough and it makes him wonder at someone who can be so genuine as to feel such for someone she'd only just met. "Heh." His smile is a little disbelieving, but it's hard not to want to put faith in how earnest she seems. "Fair enough deal, Jersey."

After a pause he shakes his head a little, almost like he's clearing it. "I guess if I'm making new memories, you're not a bad one to have in it." When did he become so sentimental?

She's not terribly surprised. People are still cynical about her even now that she's leveled up in the world. Kamala isn't going to let that stop her for a second. At least he isn't doubting her out loud. Actually that is super sweet and totally melts her heart if the smile on her face is any indication. "Are you kidding? I'm an amazing one! I'm still fun to be around even during a kidnapping." The power of positive thinking or something. It definitely helps she thinks he won't let her starve to death.

"It's been a pretty strange kidnapping so far." If that's even what being here is, but it's the best explanation Bucky has heard for it thus far. He's willing to just roll with that descriptor rather than get caught up in the semantics, because there are other things to consider. "No one I've talked to seems to know why we're here. Is it because someone wants us to do something? Is it to put leverage on someone else? Not a clue."

She nods sagely at this. Kamala hasn't figured out they're not going to be as free as they appear to be for long. The whole thing is just kind of off and random at this point to her. "It doesn't help no one is evil cackling yet. That's usually a dead giveaway. Don't bad guys usually like to brag after they've kidnapped you?"

In Bucky's experience, the 'bad guys' did less cackling and more just experimentation, but he's certainly not going to say that. Instead he just nods sagely. "No laughter and no droning monologues. I mean, what gives?"

Tsume has been walking for quite a while now. He's not sure how long since he's never been that great at keeping track of time. Animals had no need for that. All he knows is that a wolf's stamina means that he can keep going for quite some time before he becomes exhausted.

He's gotten out of the swampy area he started in what he estimates has to have at least been a couple of days ago and made his way towards a more wooded area. This area is great for a woodland creature like him, all earthy smells and the little sounds of creatures moving through the brush. He wasn't hungry quite yet, having eaten the rabbit found in his pack.

When he catches scent of a human, he follows it with caution. He never knows how they will react to him. He traces it all the way to a cabin in the woods. Looks like someone is in there. He goes up to the door, pushing at it with his shoulder. There's something blocking his way. He tries the handle with his paws, and while it rattles, it doesn't open up either. He gives up, sitting outside on his haunches. If Kamala looks out the window, she'll see what's either the world's largest dog or a wolf sitting there, watching the door.

Icy fear settles into her gut when Tsume pushes the door. Kamala ducks under the bed with her pack to be on the safe side. At least if she sneaks out, her supplies will be safe, right? She can double back for them. She waits it out for a solid ten minutes before she gets up to check the window. What she gets makes her feel like a complete idiot because GIANT DOG. She loves those!

Kamala dashes to the door, making herself big enough to move such a heavy object, before shrinking back down to her normal size. The door opens a second later with Kamala smiling big at the creature in front of it. "Sorry! If I'd known a sweet boy like you were out here, I wouldn't have been scared. You can come inside! I've got treats." She promises. In her defense, the idea of a giant dog being more likely than encountering a wolf isn't wrong in her little world of Jersey City.

Edited (whoops on that o) 2018-10-30 22:30 (UTC)

Tsume watches as the door opens up. He wasn't expecting quite such an...enthusiastic response. His head tilts at first in canine confusion at her words and then he realizes she thinks he's a dog. Back home, most humans think he's a dog too, but that's because wolves have supposedly been extinct for 200 years.

He thinks to himself that if she likes him, she'd love Toboe. The runt of the pack really does look like a giant skinny puppy dog and acts like one too. He loves humans. Tsume, on the other hand, can take them or leave them. He cautiously moves forward, one slow step at a time. When he reaches the doorway, he peers inside, first looking one way, then the other, and then back at Kamala.

Kamala would absolutely love and protect Toboe with her whole heart and amazing superpowers. That's besides the point. Right now she's picking up on his caution and frowning. Kamala would hope she seems trustworthy, but really who could blame him? She's hiding from people too. She sighs in disappointment.

"Oh... right. I'm just a weird person and this probably seems like a trap, huh? Okay... how about I open the window so if you feel like you're in trouble at any point you have a super easy escape? And! I still have some time to wack any creepy intruders in the face because getting through windows is hard for people! Sound good?"

She's walking over to the window without even looking for his reaction. Her arms glow in a faint gold light as she makes her muscles just big enough to open the window without any problems. "See? Compromise!"

An ordinary dog might not understand everything Kamala was saying. Tsume, on the other hand, was busy listening intently to everything she's saying. His golden eyes grow big and wide when he sees her arms glow. Not because he hasn't seen something like that before, but because he has. Cheza the flower girl had a similar glow around her hands when she'd try to heal the wolves of their injuries.

It seems to satisfy the cautious wolf and he comes inside. This close up, it's clear just how big he is, tipping the scales at close to a hundred pounds. But Tsume isn't vicious unless he has to be. His nose quivers as he looks around the cabin. Where are those treats she promised?

"Wow you're a really big boy." Kamala notes as she really looks at him. Cue her panicking and forgetting what else she should be doing. "Ah! I promised treats! Hang on!" She's diving under the bed with a surprising amount of grace for a spazzing child and pulls out a bag. She rummages for a couple of minutes before she pulls out a can with a pop up tab. She opens it to reveal vienna sausages and pushes it forward.

"You can have it. I already ate earlier."

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one. the looking glass so shiny and new

in the forest

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In the cabin

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