![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Aug. 29th, 2012
The showers aren't anything to write home about. The food is; everything's fresh and amazing (or maybe she's just starved after fighting and panicking). The clothes box is pretty... interesting. Jan gets the feeling she's going to be camped out in front of that thing for an obscene amount of time in the near future. Like once she gets a place of her own and a closet of her own. The yellow top and black short shorts she found are good for the time being, but she knows she could get something better with some more effort.
A lot of her questions have been answered -- or she's been informed that there are no answers. She's done the quick tour of the Compound (which she still thinks is an awful name) and been warned away from dinosaur territory. Her head is full to bursting with information, the sensible warring with the completely irrational: The bookshelf can give you anything, but be careful because fictional characters live here. Lots of people help out in the garden and make things in the kitchen, but a lot of the other supplies magically replenish. The alcohol is free and not terrible. That's the most conflicting piece of information of all, maybe.
There's nothing more she can absorb, no more questions she has the energy to ask, so it's time to do something. So she heads over to the council offices, planning on checking herself in, inquiring about open houses and looking for familiar names in the register. Even if it's a small, empty something, it's something. Slipping through the lab/clinic, Jan heads straight for the attached office, strolling through the open door with a quick rap of her knuckles against the wood.
"Janet van Dyne: newbie reporting for processing-- Cap?!"
A lot of her questions have been answered -- or she's been informed that there are no answers. She's done the quick tour of the Compound (which she still thinks is an awful name) and been warned away from dinosaur territory. Her head is full to bursting with information, the sensible warring with the completely irrational: The bookshelf can give you anything, but be careful because fictional characters live here. Lots of people help out in the garden and make things in the kitchen, but a lot of the other supplies magically replenish. The alcohol is free and not terrible. That's the most conflicting piece of information of all, maybe.
There's nothing more she can absorb, no more questions she has the energy to ask, so it's time to do something. So she heads over to the council offices, planning on checking herself in, inquiring about open houses and looking for familiar names in the register. Even if it's a small, empty something, it's something. Slipping through the lab/clinic, Jan heads straight for the attached office, strolling through the open door with a quick rap of her knuckles against the wood.
"Janet van Dyne: newbie reporting for processing-- Cap?!"
House Calls, Part I
Aug. 29th, 2012 08:00 pmThey call him James here. That's weird.
It's not like Jan's best buddies with the guy. In fact, practically the second the Winter Soldier decided he didn't want to kill Captain America, he hightailed it. Took off to make a different kind of mark on the world. It's admirable and they haven't heard anything but good things about the Winter Soldier on all the regular channels. But it means Jan hasn't had any chance at all to know him as a guy: the guy who once was Bucky and grew up.
That doesn't matter right now. Right now, she's looking for her teammate to make sure he's okay. When the call went out to all those the Avengers consider friends and allies to help in a battle bigger than they could manage, everybody stepped up. The Winter Soldier stepped up. Jan figures she owes the guy a hello and a few minutes to see how he's doing if, albeit in another dimension, he's willing to drop everything and back up her guys.
So once she's had a bite to eat, taken a shower, gotten a change of clothes and had the nickel tour, she looks for more people she might know. The hut of one James Barnes is relatively close to the Compound and relatively close to the boardwalk, so Jan's relatively sure she won't get lost looking for it.
"This is weird," she mutters to herself, staring up at the completely normal island home. Completely normal if you live on an island abundant in wood and palm leaves but not brick or steel.
"Really weird." With that last comment, Jan pulls in a deep breath, lets it out and steps up to knock on the front door.
It's not like Jan's best buddies with the guy. In fact, practically the second the Winter Soldier decided he didn't want to kill Captain America, he hightailed it. Took off to make a different kind of mark on the world. It's admirable and they haven't heard anything but good things about the Winter Soldier on all the regular channels. But it means Jan hasn't had any chance at all to know him as a guy: the guy who once was Bucky and grew up.
That doesn't matter right now. Right now, she's looking for her teammate to make sure he's okay. When the call went out to all those the Avengers consider friends and allies to help in a battle bigger than they could manage, everybody stepped up. The Winter Soldier stepped up. Jan figures she owes the guy a hello and a few minutes to see how he's doing if, albeit in another dimension, he's willing to drop everything and back up her guys.
So once she's had a bite to eat, taken a shower, gotten a change of clothes and had the nickel tour, she looks for more people she might know. The hut of one James Barnes is relatively close to the Compound and relatively close to the boardwalk, so Jan's relatively sure she won't get lost looking for it.
"This is weird," she mutters to herself, staring up at the completely normal island home. Completely normal if you live on an island abundant in wood and palm leaves but not brick or steel.
"Really weird." With that last comment, Jan pulls in a deep breath, lets it out and steps up to knock on the front door.