[ Steve finishes getting ready—he'd already been working on his hair, thank you very much—so that he'll be ready to go out into the city with Eddie. Living here, surviving, feels like a strange mixture of time in Hawkins and time in the Upside Down. He can go out without an arsenal of weapons, but he's bringing a backpack with basic supplies in it and a bat he's scrounged up from the sporting section of a department store. It doesn't have nails in it, mostly because he doesn't know what will happen to him for making a weapon if murder is being punished, but he's got a mean swing if nothing else.
Bat strapped to the backpack and backpack slung over one shoulder, he steps out into the hall exactly fifteen minutes later. Had he waited two extra minutes just so that he could be annoyingly on time? Yes. He's going to take the small pleasure where he can get them, and annoying Eddie in return is one of them. ]
[ eddie's already outside when steve approaches, leaning against the wall outside of his apartment with one arm wrapped around himself and the other holding a cigarette. he's got one leg propped up on the wall and he's tapping his foot, ever in motion and a ball of nervous energy since his arrival to the city.
when he sees steve step out into the hallway, eddie takes a drag of his cigarette and moves to stub it out against the wall before remembering this place seems weird about destruction of property. he doesn't want to try it.
so he'll just go on smoking.
he offers steve a nod in greeting. ] Right on time for little old me, Harrington? And not one hair of place?
I'm swooning! [ he grins. or tries to. it doesn't exactly reach his eyes but eddie's trying not to let the way this place is getting to him more than the upside down show. ]
[ The greeting of cigarette smoke tells him Eddie's already out here before he even lays eyes on the guy. He doesn't have anything against smoking, partakes often enough himself, but he feels like he should say something about being a good role model around Will. They're on their own here, and it'd be better to not add a rebellious teenager onto their list of problems.
Rolling his eyes, Steve smiles faintly nevertheless. Eddie can be damn annoying, but it's oddly refreshing that he's still normal despite how insane the world around them feels right now. Sure, there isn't anything directly threatening them, but that just makes it feel like a looming danger is around the other corner, and Steve hates waiting for the other shoe to drop. ]
Yeah, yeah, don't cream your pants. [ He leads the way down the hallway, then stops up short and turns around. ] Scooby.
I won't with that attitude. [ there's no bite behind the words or really anything else beyond eddie's slow drawl as he starts after steve down the hallway.
he's moving slower than he would, still, even with a month of healing behind him he's not back to feeling fully like himself. with the scars and the pain that comes and goes, he's not sure he ever will. ] Hey, slow down. What's the hurry?
[ but then steve stops short and eddie nearly crashes into him, stops with his hands up right at the level to cop a feel and get slapped if steve were a chick. ] Like the snacks?
There's no hurry. [ Except there kind of is, now that the Vecna brain worm has wiggled its way back into Steve's brain. He'd thought that this might be one of his sick tricks when first waking up here, but he'd pushed the thought aside in favor of focusing on things that he could actually handle: finding friends, setting up a place to stay, not dying. Eddie talking about Vecna has reawoken a paranoia that Steve would like to settle once and for all, and he just hopes that he can find the right music to do it.
Steve stops short when he sees Eddie so close, stepping back and using the pause as an excuse to shrug on the other strap of his backpack. It's something to do, practical fidgeting that keeps his body from doing something else. ] What? No, like the dog. I mean, I guess also the snacks.
Okay. Sure, no hurry. So can we stop power walking like a mom's morning club? [ they're not in coordinated track suits anyway and eddie really would love to not keep straining his muscles.
eddie drops his hands, stuffing them back into his pockets before hissing and pulling the one holding his cigarette out with a hiss and shaking it out. it hurts like a motherfucker, yeah, but he's done worse to himself. ] Shit--fuck.
[ Watching Eddie fidget and then hurt himself, Steve steps forward as if he's— what, going to stop Eddie? somehow un-hurt him? It feels awkward, suddenly coming close, so he turns back around and heads out at a slower pace. He keeps forgetting about Eddie's injuries since they'd healed at a surprising rate, but they're there nonetheless. So Steve doesn't apologize for being thoughtless, but he's definitely walking more slowly now. ]
Sorry some of us had better things to do than gym class. [ eddie wants to snap, he does but he keeps that from his tone as he shakes out his hand and then rubs the thumb of his uninjured hand over the burn on his palm.
it feels crueler, suddenly, to snap instead of leaning into of a quip about not being anyone's daddy or something equally tongue-and-cheek to throw the other guy off. it's just-- it's just that i's weird -- being here. and not eddie's sort of weird. the sort of weird where they're surviving it at all and waking up in an empty city where there's nothing and no one but a bunch of people trying to figure out if it's a bad trip, death, or something else.
eddie sighs. ] Sorry, I've been in a shit mood.
[ which he knows isn't fair. steve's not exactly in a great mood either, not with the looming danger and the fact the other shoe just won't drop. eddie falls in step, thankful to keep up with the new pace that doesn't strain his legs.
he thinks for a moment, hums as if he's thinking. ] Anduril.
[ Steve takes it in stride, sort of reading between the lines and accepting the snappish comment even if the tone isn't a biting one. He's gotten used to being called out for his life—his upbringing and his parents' money and his life of leisure as a popular kid. The days of King Steve are long over by about three years, but he's still taking hits on the chin and then turning the other cheek.
He'd been an asshole. People can be assholes back to him if it makes them feel better.
Nodding and turning to glance at Eddie, his eyes go back in front of him when they hit the stairs to descend to ground level. ] Hey, that's fair. We went through hell only to show up here.
[ It also sucks because actually, Steve is terrible at being around other guys. He hasn't had a male friend his age since Tommy, and even that was a weird friendship sometimes. Steve can comfort girls, and even the kids to a certain extent, but he doesn't know what to do about Eddie. So he just acts the way that he'd probably treat himself and tries not to overthink it. ]
Yeah. I just-- How are you so calm about it? [ it's not an accusation but there's a bit of desperation in eddie's voice, like he wants to know the secret of it all to figure out how to get to the other side of his life turning upside down and then ending in this.
he knows, objectively, that no one's fine.
but he'd love tips on how to not feel like he's going to be jumping out of his skin any second. especially when weed is limited and despite the occasional coke and ket habit, eddie's not really looking to get hooked on the available pain killers he's noticed are well stocked in the pharmacy shelves.
luckily before he spirals into thoughts, steve makes the mistake of asking a question. which leads to: ] A drug it is not. It's a sword. The Flame of the West, technically. Not like an actual flaming sword, though that be sick as fuck to have, but like a beacon of light metaphor and all that. It belonged to a badass ranger and King in the Lord of the Rings.
Of all the crazy shit that's happened to me, this is the least, like, immediately deadly. [ Which isn't really an answer, but it's something of an explanation. Steve has his moments of panic, but he's also had a lot more experience with the Upside Down, pain, and general supernatural life-suckage than Eddie. He's grateful that he's at least gotten better about acting like he's okay, because while he's always ready to spring into action and has a focused kind of calm when he's able to do something physical, all of that falls apart as soon as he has time to try and think about anything.
Pushing open the door out onto the street, he holds it open for Eddie and gives him a confused look as an excuse to stop and be nice to him. He throws out a lot of words and concepts in his explanation, but one strikes Steve as the weirdest; he hangs around a lot of nerds, after all. ] A ranger? Like a park ranger?
That's even more fucked up, man. [ it does make eddie feel a bit better, though. at least steve has experience with worse shit and would know what to do.
eddie wishes he were more like him but, well, his last foray into hero-dom really didn't end well.
he should probably talk to someone about that.
he raises a brow as steve opens the door, slipping by him with a soft 'thanks' before stepping into fresh air. he digs into the pocket of his jacket, looking for his lighter to light up the cigarette again.
then he snorts, letting out an amused laugh that has half of his mouth turning upward. ] Like a park ranger? You think he'd have time while ruling the kingdom for that kind of side job?
[ then he shakes his head. ] More like a Paladin if you remember anything Wheeler said about his character for Hellfire.
[ Steve doesn't respond to that because he isn't sure how. Yeah, it's fucked up, but so is a bunch of kids fighting monsters and Russian spies torturing ice cream shop employees and girls raised by scientists to be weapons. There's a lot that's fucked up, and maybe learning to accept that is what makes it easier to pretend that he's okay.
Nodding in reply to the thanks, he falls back into step next to Eddie. Steve hadn't meant anything by his drug comment, but he does wonder if Eddie is self-medicating not only because of the pain, but the emotional and mental stress of it all as well. That's none of his business, though, until Eddie makes it his business by asking for help or fucking up; one is more likely to happen first than the other. ]
Uh, kinda? Fighters that can do some magic. [ Steve feels like everything in D&D is magic, it'd be nice to hear about a normal human who can make a difference for once. ] Is the Andrill ranger a... what do they call them? Hobbies, or whatever.
Yeah, a Ranger can do even less magic. They are more survive off the land, track animals and make the best of nature to survive. They’re kind of underrated but pretty important out of combat. [ Eddie is actually pretty excited that Steve remembers what he does so he rambles. he grins, walking a little bit faster and forgetting about the cigarette though he’s holding it in one hand and the lighter in the other. as he walks, he waves his hands. ] First, Anduril.
Second, it’s a Hobbits. But nah, man, Aragorn is a human. Well, a Dunedain but that just means he’s a human who lives longer.
He’s pretty badass. A good fighter, could rally people in a battle. [ he stops, points at Steve with the hand holding his cigarette. ] You'd make a pretty good ranger.
[ Steve nods his head slowly, doing his best to follow along. He knows the basics of D&D purely via osmosis of being around so many of the nerds who play it, but that doesn't mean he understands any of what Eddie is rambling about. Still, he appreciates being talked to like someone who's capable of learning all of this rather than an idiot like Dustin tends to talk to him when the topic is one Steve knows nothing about; it's not a great way to get him interested in it, either. ]
Oh, cool. Most of the time the kids are talking about elves and dwarves and all that fantasy shit.
[ Coughing a bit at being compared to a fictional badass, Steve ruffles a hand through the hair at the back of his head. ] 'Kay, I'll try not to take it personal that you said he's important out of combat.
[ eddie tries not to make a pained sound that steve calls it 'fantasy shit' and the sharp low whine turns into a cough. totally subtle, yeah?
at least steve is also coughing so they're like brothers in coughing or something. a bond along with being victims of demobat bites. eddie tries not to think about that and lights his cigarette instead, taking a drag. ] They're great in combat too but there's more to them, man.
You'd rather be all brute force and no planning ahead or something?
[ That gives him something to think about, actually, so he doesn't shoot back a reply right away. Would he like to be more than brute force? Of course, but he's far from being one of the brightest minds in their ever-growing group. There's a chance to prove that he can be more than muscle in this city simply because none of the brainiacs are around, but also he doesn't want to start finding silver linings in being kidnapped somewhere for unknown reasons.
Shrugging, he fiddles with the end of the strap on his backpack where the material is fraying. ] I mean, no, but that's what I'm good for. [ Barely. He knows better than anyone how often he's gotten his shit rocked. ] Survival plans maybe. Boy scout shit.
[ well that comment definitely has eddie raising an eyebrow, tilting his head as they walk.
that's kind of grim in a way, actually. he can't place what about it he doesn't like but it definitely further contradicts the image of steve harrington he'd had before the guy showed up in the boathouse and prodded at eddie's side with an oar.
it also doesn't quite go with what he saw before they arrived here either; harrington had been all about preparing and making things work so they survived, not just brute forcing it. the guy did jump into lover's lake without hesitation but he'd also been captain of the swim club so it made sense when you thought about it.
eddie narrows his eyes. ] Why're you good for it, Harrington?
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hairsprayed) wrote2023-06-11 12:55 pm
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like an empty city? clones of the people there showing up would FUCK up a campaign. how do you know which member of your party is the real one? huh?
it has to be a really fucking good code word then and not obvious!
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Yeah ok whatever. Guess it doesn't hurt to try it. Better not get us killed though.
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i have an idea--- meet me in the hallway in like 10? [ also he's pretty sure they're dead, steve, so like... can they get more dead? ]
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15, I was getting out of the shower when you messaged me.
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second, that doesn't work because vecna wants everyone dead
is that enough time to do your hair?
i can wait an hour [ teasing. mostly? ]
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Shut up. 15 unless you want me to show up wet and naked.
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oooooo feisty. see you in 15
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Bat strapped to the backpack and backpack slung over one shoulder, he steps out into the hall exactly fifteen minutes later. Had he waited two extra minutes just so that he could be annoyingly on time? Yes. He's going to take the small pleasure where he can get them, and annoying Eddie in return is one of them. ]
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when he sees steve step out into the hallway, eddie takes a drag of his cigarette and moves to stub it out against the wall before remembering this place seems weird about destruction of property. he doesn't want to try it.
so he'll just go on smoking.
he offers steve a nod in greeting. ] Right on time for little old me, Harrington? And not one hair of place?
I'm swooning! [ he grins. or tries to. it doesn't exactly reach his eyes but eddie's trying not to let the way this place is getting to him more than the upside down show. ]
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Rolling his eyes, Steve smiles faintly nevertheless. Eddie can be damn annoying, but it's oddly refreshing that he's still normal despite how insane the world around them feels right now. Sure, there isn't anything directly threatening them, but that just makes it feel like a looming danger is around the other corner, and Steve hates waiting for the other shoe to drop. ]
Yeah, yeah, don't cream your pants. [ He leads the way down the hallway, then stops up short and turns around. ] Scooby.
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he's moving slower than he would, still, even with a month of healing behind him he's not back to feeling fully like himself. with the scars and the pain that comes and goes, he's not sure he ever will. ] Hey, slow down. What's the hurry?
[ but then steve stops short and eddie nearly crashes into him, stops with his hands up right at the level to cop a feel and get slapped if steve were a chick. ] Like the snacks?
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Steve stops short when he sees Eddie so close, stepping back and using the pause as an excuse to shrug on the other strap of his backpack. It's something to do, practical fidgeting that keeps his body from doing something else. ] What? No, like the dog. I mean, I guess also the snacks.
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eddie drops his hands, stuffing them back into his pockets before hissing and pulling the one holding his cigarette out with a hiss and shaking it out. it hurts like a motherfucker, yeah, but he's done worse to himself. ] Shit--fuck.
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[ Watching Eddie fidget and then hurt himself, Steve steps forward as if he's— what, going to stop Eddie? somehow un-hurt him? It feels awkward, suddenly coming close, so he turns back around and heads out at a slower pace. He keeps forgetting about Eddie's injuries since they'd healed at a surprising rate, but they're there nonetheless. So Steve doesn't apologize for being thoughtless, but he's definitely walking more slowly now. ]
So? What's your word?
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it feels crueler, suddenly, to snap instead of leaning into of a quip about not being anyone's daddy or something equally tongue-and-cheek to throw the other guy off. it's just-- it's just that i's weird -- being here. and not eddie's sort of weird. the sort of weird where they're surviving it at all and waking up in an empty city where there's nothing and no one but a bunch of people trying to figure out if it's a bad trip, death, or something else.
eddie sighs. ] Sorry, I've been in a shit mood.
[ which he knows isn't fair. steve's not exactly in a great mood either, not with the looming danger and the fact the other shoe just won't drop. eddie falls in step, thankful to keep up with the new pace that doesn't strain his legs.
he thinks for a moment, hums as if he's thinking. ] Anduril.
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He'd been an asshole. People can be assholes back to him if it makes them feel better.
Nodding and turning to glance at Eddie, his eyes go back in front of him when they hit the stairs to descend to ground level. ] Hey, that's fair. We went through hell only to show up here.
[ It also sucks because actually, Steve is terrible at being around other guys. He hasn't had a male friend his age since Tommy, and even that was a weird friendship sometimes. Steve can comfort girls, and even the kids to a certain extent, but he doesn't know what to do about Eddie. So he just acts the way that he'd probably treat himself and tries not to overthink it. ]
And— what? Sounds like drugs or something.
cw: mention of drug use?
he knows, objectively, that no one's fine.
but he'd love tips on how to not feel like he's going to be jumping out of his skin any second. especially when weed is limited and despite the occasional coke and ket habit, eddie's not really looking to get hooked on the available pain killers he's noticed are well stocked in the pharmacy shelves.
luckily before he spirals into thoughts, steve makes the mistake of asking a question. which leads to: ] A drug it is not. It's a sword. The Flame of the West, technically. Not like an actual flaming sword, though that be sick as fuck to have, but like a beacon of light metaphor and all that. It belonged to a badass ranger and King in the Lord of the Rings.
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Pushing open the door out onto the street, he holds it open for Eddie and gives him a confused look as an excuse to stop and be nice to him. He throws out a lot of words and concepts in his explanation, but one strikes Steve as the weirdest; he hangs around a lot of nerds, after all. ] A ranger? Like a park ranger?
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eddie wishes he were more like him but, well, his last foray into hero-dom really didn't end well.
he should probably talk to someone about that.
he raises a brow as steve opens the door, slipping by him with a soft 'thanks' before stepping into fresh air. he digs into the pocket of his jacket, looking for his lighter to light up the cigarette again.
then he snorts, letting out an amused laugh that has half of his mouth turning upward. ] Like a park ranger? You think he'd have time while ruling the kingdom for that kind of side job?
[ then he shakes his head. ] More like a Paladin if you remember anything Wheeler said about his character for Hellfire.
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Nodding in reply to the thanks, he falls back into step next to Eddie. Steve hadn't meant anything by his drug comment, but he does wonder if Eddie is self-medicating not only because of the pain, but the emotional and mental stress of it all as well. That's none of his business, though, until Eddie makes it his business by asking for help or fucking up; one is more likely to happen first than the other. ]
Uh, kinda? Fighters that can do some magic. [ Steve feels like everything in D&D is magic, it'd be nice to hear about a normal human who can make a difference for once. ] Is the Andrill ranger a... what do they call them? Hobbies, or whatever.
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Second, it’s a Hobbits. But nah, man, Aragorn is a human. Well, a Dunedain but that just means he’s a human who lives longer.
He’s pretty badass. A good fighter, could rally people in a battle. [ he stops, points at Steve with the hand holding his cigarette. ] You'd make a pretty good ranger.
[ is all of that disjointed? yep. ]
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Oh, cool. Most of the time the kids are talking about elves and dwarves and all that fantasy shit.
[ Coughing a bit at being compared to a fictional badass, Steve ruffles a hand through the hair at the back of his head. ] 'Kay, I'll try not to take it personal that you said he's important out of combat.
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at least steve is also coughing so they're like brothers in coughing or something. a bond along with being victims of demobat bites. eddie tries not to think about that and lights his cigarette instead, taking a drag. ] They're great in combat too but there's more to them, man.
You'd rather be all brute force and no planning ahead or something?
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Shrugging, he fiddles with the end of the strap on his backpack where the material is fraying. ] I mean, no, but that's what I'm good for. [ Barely. He knows better than anyone how often he's gotten his shit rocked. ] Survival plans maybe. Boy scout shit.
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that's kind of grim in a way, actually. he can't place what about it he doesn't like but it definitely further contradicts the image of steve harrington he'd had before the guy showed up in the boathouse and prodded at eddie's side with an oar.
it also doesn't quite go with what he saw before they arrived here either; harrington had been all about preparing and making things work so they survived, not just brute forcing it. the guy did jump into lover's lake without hesitation but he'd also been captain of the swim club so it made sense when you thought about it.
eddie narrows his eyes. ] Why're you good for it, Harrington?
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