Collision @imperfectsoldier

[hellrider]

It's not the first alien crash site New Mexico has seen in the last decade. At this point, the USA should be getting used to phenomena like this. First Thor and Loki, then the Chitauri, and now there's this monstrosity of sinews and tentacles and otherworldly components scattered across the shores of Lost Lake. No one was there when it landed, but the energy fluctuations in the area were off the charts for hours before it appeared, and they're still not under control. Some kind of dimensional shift, tears in time and space...Banner could probably explain it, if he were available. He's not, though, AWOL after the Ultron incident, and so it's up to others to put the pieces together.

Up close, much of the debris has a very distinct look, like the limbs of a giant octopus, complete with suckers. They arch across the natural landscape, smelling not of dead fish, but rather of ozone and copper. Deeper into the crash site, there are what appear to be biomechanical panels, half shattered and burning. If it were a more familiar vehicle, protocol would probably dictate a search for survivors first and foremost, but god only knows what could have been flying in this thing.

Steve and his comrades are spared the trouble of finding out the hard way, when a battered figure stumbles free of the wreckage and collapses to its knees in the shallow water nearby. It looks like a man, but his skin is a deep, inhuman reddish tone, he has a pair of jagged horns, and a spade-tipped tail curls behind him. Honestly, he looks like nothing so much as a Victorian era illustration of some sort of demon or devil, but the impression he makes as he splashes his face with water shakily is far from aggressive.

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[hellrider]

"I think I was hoping for it," he admits softly. "Just...an end. A rest, at last."

There's a pause and a slight shake of his head. "Sorry, that was dark. Even before this last battle, it's been a...very difficult several months. It's a long story."

Based on the tone of Steve's voice, though, and what he's said, Zevlor suspects he understands on a level he may not want to admit. He looks at him again, and manages a brave smile. "I'm much better when I have work to do. If you're going so far as to shelter me, at least let me assist if there's trouble. I have the power of my Oath once again. I can fight, and I can heal."

He doesn't know it yet, but there will be a learning curve. A jet and a nautiloid are rather different things. Technology may take some getting used to.

[imperfectsoldier]

"You don't need to apologize to me for that, or telling me anything else going on in your head," he says, firmly. "I don't care how dark it is." It's not harsh or mean, just a very definitive statement, carried by a specific kind of certainty.

"You're not gonna run into many people around me who haven't seen war of one sort or another, and most of those have at least occasionally been so exhausted and traumatized that a nice, meaningful, death got more appealing than anyone wants to admit to."

Including him. Dear God, including and probably mostly him.

He squints into the sun and across the desert, and can just see the sun off the black of the jet. "We're not in a position to turn down help. If we need it, I'll ask. Getting you somewhere that you're not repressing trauma with new trauma's still a priority though." He smiles, because there's dark humor in what he says: "You'll just have to live with it."

[hellrider]

His gaze lingers on Steve thoughtfully, recognizing in his response the same sort of thing he always told the Hellriders that served with him. It's always better to talk it out with someone you can trust than to bottle it up and let it fester. He broke that rule when he was cast out of Elturel, because he was surrounded by refugees each fighting their own desperate battle against giving up for good. He could carry his burden, he thought. At least until they made it somewhere safe.

"I'm a career soldier," he says. "In my unit we were expected to go out in a blaze of glory. Retirement wasn't an option. That level of dedication is all well and good, but it does tend to lead to feeling fatalistic, and lost when the battle ends and you're still standing."

"I'm not in a position to turn down help, either. I'll accept what you're offering, gratefully."

[imperfectsoldier]

People need space to get the shit out of their heads, into the air and know it's been heard by someone who is capable of understanding. Decent people don't want - and won't - do it if the person listening is someone they think is struggling with their own stuff.

Reveal enough to make it clear you get it, but not so much you look anything but okay and inspire, if only vaguely, the belief that maybe they can get there.

It's a fine line. Steve's gotten pretty damn good at walking it.

Steve is goddamn tired.

"I didn't really expect to make it a career. One war, go home, marry the pretty girl and have a nice, boring life. Then that went away and there's just always been another fight to throw myself at. I don't think I'd handle it well if I lost that, now." All as truthful as the steadiness, warmth, and matter-of-fact compassion.

Still presenting it with purpose that has nothing to do with him.

He nods ahead to the jet, as it gets closer. "Three people onboard. The guy you saw fly over and drop the explosives is Sam. He'll be the pilot. Woman is Wanda. Other guy is Scott. Sam's already seen you. Wanda might get defensive - if she does, her hands will glow. She'll come off it once she realizes you're not a threat. Scott will make a really dumb remark, but it won't be with any intent to hurt you, he's just got a mouth that takes off without his brain."

[hellrider]

It may take Zevlor a few days to realize they're very nearly two of a kind, at least in that aspect of their personalities. He makes a small, sympathetic noise at Steve's confession, nodding. "That's an old, old story, too, I fear. We adapt to our circumstances, and sometimes we adapt to them all too well."

"I joined up as young as I was allowed to, partly for the prestige, partly just to support my brothers. Too young, at the time, to imagine I'd ever long for anything but adventure." He's tired, too. Not in the same way as Steve, perhaps, but tired nonetheless.

The jet looks like a monstrosity to him. Strange to imagine it can get off of the ground, with so much metal plating, but then the Nautiloid was twice as strange, and had no wings. He'll go on faith for now, with few other options available to him. "And these people are all human, as well?"

[imperfectsoldier]

Steve's just trying to build a... bridge between them that a war refugee in one hell of a rough situation can feel reasonably safe on, and is using the commonalities he can find to do that.

He might actually be a little caught off guard (not in a bad way) if the other man starts seeing more of Steve in return.

Meanwhile: Priorities and one of those in 'build a bridge' is trust and that also means transparency, and answering questions. "All humans. Wanda and I considered 'enhanced'. She's got some mind stuff, I'm just harder to kill. Scott and Sam use equipment. Sam's got the mechanical wings. Scott changes size with a suit."

Simplified transparency though.

He... will take Zevlor inside, just as soon as he either doesn't have more questions or indicates readiness, or something in the circumstances makes him. He feels for this guy. He's getting whatever room Steve can give him.

[hellrider]

Steve says 'enhanced' like it should mean something to Zevlor, and in a sense it does, though perhaps not the way he means it. Adventurers and others trained in certain professions usually develop strength and agility beyond what's normal for the average person of their race and build. Already, he's seen Steve run, and heard him describe Wanda as possessed of psionic abilities. He's classed them mentally as, perhaps, a sorcerer and a fighter, or maybe even another paladin.

The rest is a little harder to wrap his brain around. Changes size with a suit? He'll just have to observe as he goes.

He pauses at the door for a moment, face unreadable, as a wave of deep sadness washes over him. It shouldn't matter. It doesn't matter. But: "I'm the only one of my kind here."

It's a lonely thought, particularly after all he's tried to give for his kin. After a moment he shakes his head as if to push it aside. There's work to be done. As long as he has some sort of purpose to pursue, he'll be all right. "I'm fine. Let's go."

[imperfectsoldier]

Steve is leaning into the standard definition of enhanced and hoping it explains at least broadly what he means when he uses it to describe himself and Wanda. It's pretty much the only word he's got for some kind of umbrella term.

Mostly... the other things are more important. "I know." He touches right between Zevlor's shoulders briefly. He knows. He also knows that he doesn't know. Steve absolutely sees himself as just A Guy in general, and pretty damn out of place (feeling it always, more so since the ice) but he's not blind to the ways in which he's got some heavy advantages and privilege.

In being an attractive white guy. This is bigger and deeper than that.

"I'm down a lot of resources." Tony. Banner. He could use them now. "But we'll do the best we can all around. You ready to get out of here?"

[hellrider]

The tiefling's tail is expressive; it's drooping now, but the spaded tip weaves in the air slowly behind him. Thanks to his armor, he can barely feel the touch against his back, but almost unconsciously, he curls his tail against Steve's ankle. A touch in return, to ground himself. Presumptuous, maybe, but somehow he thinks it will be understood.

"I'm ready," he says, and gives him a slight nod. It does take a bit of courage to walk into a flying machine after just having crashed one, but bravery is something Zevlor has never lacked. He crosses over the threshold, ducking slightly to avoid catching his horns on the doorframe.

He pauses once inside, letting his eyes adjust, and looking ill at ease, painfully aware that to these new humans he's going to look borderline nightmarish, between his different appearance and the blood and ichor staining his clothes.

[imperfectsoldier]

Steve almost startles at the tail wrapping around his ankle. It isn't quite a startle, because it's not that fast, but he definitely stops walking and drops his eyes down to see what just happened.

Once he realizes what it is, though, he just smiles faintly and carries on and getting them inside.

He stops when Zevlor does, right beside him in a non-verbal and undeniable show of support - and reassurance for his people already on the plane.

Sam's response isn't much more than pivoting around in the pilot's seat and offering a "Hey, man". Wanda looks somewhere between alarmed and confused - and maybe fascinated. Scott opens his mouth and Steve... points at him and gives him a very firm "Don't" which results in the man at least temporarily shutting up.

At that point and only that point does he point Zevlor to what would normally be the seat he chose, and the gangplank gets raised. "Get us out of here, Sam." Home? No, but Wakanda should be a given for this one. He hopes.

[hellrider]

Zevlor looks around the interior of the plane briefly as if trying to gauge where the exits are, in case he has to flee. This is, of course, not especially effective since there aren't many ways in and out of a jet. His nerves are almost palpable for a moment, as he relents and scans the faces of the people inside. Slowly, he nods a greeting, makes his way to the seat Steve indicates, and sits.

After a moment, he clears his throat hesitantly and says, "My name is Zevlor. My kind are called tieflings...I'm sure I look strange to you, but I don't mean you any harm."

Even as he speaks, it seems likely that what he's thinking is that he's a solitary being in the midst of four strangers. Steve seems trustworthy, and none of the others have given him a reason to distrust them, but he's still very outnumbered.

[imperfectsoldier]

Steve knows what kind of state Zevlor has got to be in. He's just come out of a hell of a battle, been dropped into a new world - and reality - and gotten into an enclosed space with people he knows nothing about. Shell shocked and exhausted are too mild for it.

It's impressive that he's doing it, much less doing it in a polite and reassuring way.

Making sure he's not going to have an issue makes Steve take a fresher look at his people on the plane than he has in a while, though. He has to acknowledge that better than Zevlor doesn't mean they're in good shape. It gets him up in the cockpit, making some quiet arrangements for all of them to get at least a few days.

Once that's done, Steve sits down on the floor with legs out and crossed at the ankle, back against the bulkhead between the open cockpit and passenger area. It's a casually strategic position. He doesn't anticipate problems from Zevlor, but having to walk over him to get into the cockpit isn't a hard safeguard to take and it lets him keep an eye on what's going on in both locations.

Once he's down and stops moving, though, he realizes that even he is hitting a wall. The serum can compensate for a hell of a lot, but there are limits. It's almost impossible for him to meet his caloric needs while on the run. He doesn't need nearly as much sleep as the others, but making sure they get it means he's in a deficit there, too.

Scott and Wanda end up falling asleep. Steve does not, but he stays where he put himself through the trip.

"Meet me back here in 72 hours." That's the full extent of his announcement that they're getting a damn break. He stays put until even Sam's gone though. "Come on. I'll stick with you until we're sure where they're going to put you, we track down food for both of us and everybody's more comfortable."

[hellrider]

Zevlor exchanges awkward pleasantries with Scott and Wanda--and would talk with Sam, too, and ask about his wings, but it seems unwise to disrupt the pilot's concentration. He seems to warm up to them subtly, although his body language remains too open and passive to be casual, like he takes it upon himself to project a non-threatening aura. When they quiet down and start to drift off, he stares out the window for a long while, too hypervigilant to take rest the way they can. He doesn't sleep on the flight at all, in fact, although there are a few moments where he curls up in his seat and looks like he's trying. Just never quite gets there.

Still, it's a physical rest, and he needed that.

He offers Sam an armclasp and thanks for the piloting as he departs, and then looks at Steve for direction. He is not disappointed. "Where 'they' will put me? Who is 'they'?"

Well, that's incorrect grammar, but he can't be blamed for wanting to know. He does seem interested in the idea of food, as well.

[imperfectsoldier]

"Wakanda." There's a bit of a tired smile, that says that's meant as gentle humor. "I'll make getting my hands on a map for you a priority." Or just a globe. "I dunno how much it'll help but knowing the layout of the planet and where you are on it can't hurt anything."

Telling Zevlor that it's a country in Africa isn't going to help until he knows w here Africa is.

Meanwhile - "Wakanda's one of the most technologically advanced and safest places in the world. Probably to some degree because they're isolationist enough to keep a lot of the world from knowing how good their capabilities and resources are." It's not quite formal enough to sound like a debrief, even if it weren't so condensed. "As for who they are... Speaking broadly, don't expect a warm welcome. Do expect that they'll protect you with their lives once they decide you're one of theirs." It'll be a good place for Zevlor, he thinks. At least as good as it's getting on earth.

Outside he squints a little at the sun again and takes a second to orient and decide on an order of operation. "More good than nice as a rule." People are people are individuals.