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]

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.