mechanical brain magnetism, baby!
WHO: Dat Tony Stark and Steve
WHERE: Starktech bldg
WHEN: 12/29 afternoonie
WARNINGS: I just typed out a subject with words starting in MBMB and I have Cee-lo Green stuck in my head and it's way past my bedtime things might happen
SUMMARY: A wild Steve appears, eager for work he's not licensed for!
FORMAT: NO
It didn't seem like there was really much of a chance to get back to the Dorgenark anytime soon, unfortunately. If what was told was true, though, the crew wouldn't even realize he was gone! A rather bitter consolation, as the one text-person put it, but consoling nonetheless. Steve would hate to have inconvenienced his good friends and allies, even by accident.
Well, if he was going to be on Earth indefinitely, Steve was just going to have to get his affairs in order and make a living!
But...But Mister Rogue was the one who carried all the hunter licenses and travel visas. Steve had arrived with nothing but the clothes on his back! That was strange, actually...he'd never owned clothes before, so he wasn't quite sure how he managed to have some in the first place, but considering the chill, he was grateful to have something, sparse as it was. Somehow, those long sleeves of his checkered button-down shirt just didn't seem to help! Clothes sure seemed trickier than he'd first thought...
No matter, though! Once he started taking jobs and accruing some wealth, he'd have plenty of chances to experiment and find just the right thing. The best place to start, he figured, was to get the proper certification. The handy handbook Miss Callie provided made mention of work permits, but the details were hazy at best. Steve pondered over it a while before the urge to start moving became too much to bear. He was just going to have to give his best and see what happened! And if at first he didn't succeed...!
"Well!" he wound up exclaiming, craning his neck as far as he could and squinting up and up. This building is certainly tall and official enough! he thought. Nowhere near as broad and colorful as the Galaxy Corporation's hub, but then...all of Zerard seemed to work together to be colorful! It was just different. But not bad! He was certain there was some clue as to where to go inside. Happily he went.
The secretary's smile twitched only once, returning and remaining smoothly in place throughout Steve's explanations, ramblings, and returns to proper explanation. She was a professional, of course; one had to be to work for a business of Starktech's caliber. Even so, she was starting to get at a loss with the poor guy, who seemed to her like another raving homeless person trapped in a young man's lanky body. If she knew much about the hipster scene, she'd have had a better analogy to frame it all in, but alas.
She managed to halt him and try to discern a few key points. Something about outer space and beasts and mechanical hands? Rather than try to get him to expand, she picked up the phone and quickly tapped off the numbers. She wouldn't have done it had she not had the hunch she had.
"Sir? Yes, I'm sorry to bother you, but...I think we might have one of yours down here."
She did her best to phrase that perfectly understandable, her eyebrows lifting regardless of being seen or not.
One of your crazy ImPort types.
"Should I call security?"
WHERE: Starktech bldg
WHEN: 12/29 afternoonie
WARNINGS: I just typed out a subject with words starting in MBMB and I have Cee-lo Green stuck in my head and it's way past my bedtime things might happen
SUMMARY: A wild Steve appears, eager for work he's not licensed for!
FORMAT: NO
It didn't seem like there was really much of a chance to get back to the Dorgenark anytime soon, unfortunately. If what was told was true, though, the crew wouldn't even realize he was gone! A rather bitter consolation, as the one text-person put it, but consoling nonetheless. Steve would hate to have inconvenienced his good friends and allies, even by accident.
Well, if he was going to be on Earth indefinitely, Steve was just going to have to get his affairs in order and make a living!
But...But Mister Rogue was the one who carried all the hunter licenses and travel visas. Steve had arrived with nothing but the clothes on his back! That was strange, actually...he'd never owned clothes before, so he wasn't quite sure how he managed to have some in the first place, but considering the chill, he was grateful to have something, sparse as it was. Somehow, those long sleeves of his checkered button-down shirt just didn't seem to help! Clothes sure seemed trickier than he'd first thought...
No matter, though! Once he started taking jobs and accruing some wealth, he'd have plenty of chances to experiment and find just the right thing. The best place to start, he figured, was to get the proper certification. The handy handbook Miss Callie provided made mention of work permits, but the details were hazy at best. Steve pondered over it a while before the urge to start moving became too much to bear. He was just going to have to give his best and see what happened! And if at first he didn't succeed...!
"Well!" he wound up exclaiming, craning his neck as far as he could and squinting up and up. This building is certainly tall and official enough! he thought. Nowhere near as broad and colorful as the Galaxy Corporation's hub, but then...all of Zerard seemed to work together to be colorful! It was just different. But not bad! He was certain there was some clue as to where to go inside. Happily he went.
The secretary's smile twitched only once, returning and remaining smoothly in place throughout Steve's explanations, ramblings, and returns to proper explanation. She was a professional, of course; one had to be to work for a business of Starktech's caliber. Even so, she was starting to get at a loss with the poor guy, who seemed to her like another raving homeless person trapped in a young man's lanky body. If she knew much about the hipster scene, she'd have had a better analogy to frame it all in, but alas.
She managed to halt him and try to discern a few key points. Something about outer space and beasts and mechanical hands? Rather than try to get him to expand, she picked up the phone and quickly tapped off the numbers. She wouldn't have done it had she not had the hunch she had.
"Sir? Yes, I'm sorry to bother you, but...I think we might have one of yours down here."
She did her best to phrase that perfectly understandable, her eyebrows lifting regardless of being seen or not.
One of your crazy ImPort types.
"Should I call security?"