...I realize this might get kind of old, coming from me -- and that a lot of you aren't from a universe like mine. I might have ruffled some feathers last time I made an entry like this, and I apologize. But this is important, and it might be in your universes, too.

Anyway, today is Armistice Day. I think it's called Veterans' Day, now, and it's a day to thank and honor people who've served in wars. So -- well, thanks, to anyone on this boat who's done that. Your service -- and sometimes, your sacrifice -- is definitely appreciated.

[Onscreen, there is a very recognizable shield. --Well, to be exact, it's the side of that shield, before a rag is quickly swiped over it and Steve adjusts the camera angle. Scattered behind him is an open sketchbook filled with various doodles of Barge inhabitants, views of the CES, and a tin of polish he scrounged up from somewhere or another. But he settles back and grins.]

Seems like every time we get new arrivals, lately, it's after a flood where everyone's distracted for a few days. So I'd like to say thanks to --everyone who helped me out when I was ...well, smaller than usual. Or offer apologies. I was kinda an argumentative kid, if you didn't notice.

[Spam for Tony:]

[After he's finished with polishing his shield, Steve meanders down to Tony's room with an empty sketchbook in hand and a few pencils, in search of one particular person. He knocks and rocks back on his heels, a little cautious.]

Tony? Hope you don't mind a visitor.

[--And once he's opened the door, hopefully:] I brought you something to keep you entertained. [And he offers the sketchbook, a little sheepishly.] I'm sure you're used to -- your computers, or those tablet things, whatever it was that Coulson showed me, but...it's something, right? Might get some of those ideas out of your head.

[There is a small hand covering the camera, at least for a moment, and then a very curious blond face is peering into it, kind of fascinated with this whole thing. It is most definitely Steve Rogers, for those who saw him during past floods, except -- quite a bit tinier, slightly dirty and grinning.  Steve's thin, a little delicate, and looks like he might get blown away if a big enough gust of wind came by.   Despite that, he's still cheerful and curious.  He’s not entirely sure what this place is, but it’s clearly going to be fun.]

Is this working?

[Someone enthusiastically but still relatively gently pushes Steve out of the way to try to get a look at the device too. He’s about the same size, definitely less frail and sickly looking, and he’s got what should hopefully be a familiar Brooklyn accent as he looks into the camera, brow furrowed slightly.]

I don’t know, did you do it right? This is the weirdest radio I’ve ever seen.

[Steve promptly elbows him right back, though honestly he looks like he might break if he falls over too hard. Whatever, it’s Bucky and he’s used to this kind of thing.]

Hey, you got your own, I’m using it right now! [He pokes at the screen again, then gives Bucky a nudge and settles back.] I think it’s on. Uh. Hello, I’m Steve Rogers, and this is James Barnes.

[Bucky is giving you such a look right now, Steve and is unapologetically cutting you off before this goes any further.] Bucky. It’s Bucky Barnes, Steve. No one calls me “James”.

[That promptly gets an eyeroll, but he concedes the point.] Fine, okay, Bucky Barnes. Anyway, what is this place? It looks fun. Are there films?

[You’re being nudged again, Steve.] Ask about baseball. And whose apartment this is.


(OOC: Tags will be coming from doesntlikebullies and andidomeanrun !)

[Scene: Steve's cabin. He is very pointedly not showing anyone anything besides a view of his chest and up, hair rather mussed, shirt rumpled and cheeks pink from embarrassment. The sounds of 'O, Canada' can be heard playing faintly in the background. Steve is moving, now, on a hunt for that robot and still carefully not pointing the camera anywhere remotely close to the bed.]

Tony, this is getting ridiculous. If you're that bored, you can always come spar with me or something, instead of -- well, doing this.

[He spares a moment from the camera to -- find the robot, and then -- HAH. There it is, and he picks it up. He turns the little robot over in his hands, torn between amusement and lingering embarrassment. Now that he thinks about it, these little guys are actually kind of cute. ...Also, if anyone was paying attention as the camera panned across the floor, there is definitely a woman's shoe lying on the floor.]

Is there an off switch? I don't wanna crush the little guy or anything. And 'O, Canada', really? I don't have any problem with Canadians, I would have figured you'd put one of your ...modern songs that are nothing but noise on here.

['Sup, Barge! Steve has survived the latest flood, and is currently sprawled in his rather bare-looking room, with a giant pile of Harry Potter books next to him. He's --somewhere in the middle of book five, right about now, and has decided to address his bargemates.]

These books are really pretty good. Thanks for letting me borrow them, Ms. Knope, that flood a while back makes a lot more sense, now.

Though I wish more people would help out that Neville kid. He seems like a pretty sensible fella. [Alright, so he might feel more than a few similarities with Neville Longbottom. DON'T JUDGE.]

--And I saw a new face on the network a while ago, so -- uh, welcome to the barge.

[He'd been captured after he'd seen Bucky and Ben running. He was damned if he was going to let his best friend get captured by hostiles for a second time. The same went for Tony, too, though it was mostly unconscious and a sense of vague worry that had sent Steve out looking for him in the first place.

He is here, though, and coherent enough to make an entry -- though he is bruised, slightly bloodied and covered in dirt. Usually the sort of thing that heals easily enough normally, but this place? Is hardly normal.]

Looks like they've gotten a good number of us. Who's with me on figuring a way out of here? I think they want to make me fight, probably.

[Then, there's a slightly tight smile.] Don't give up hope yet. I'm good at unexpected escape attempts, and I will get every last one of you out of here even if I have to do it myself.

[--So, students of Floodholme, here's a probably very familiar sight. Yeah, it's that one kid. The skinny little fiesty guy who's roommates with Tony Stark and Keeper for the Cockerel quidditch team. That kid that looks like he's gonna break in half every time a quaffle flies his way. (But his team still wins, so ...there.)

Anyway, Steve's in the infirmary, looking -- slightly bruised, to say the very least. He's recuperating from a fall off his broomstick from the last quidditch game, courtesy of a bludger smacked his way. He might sound a little hoarse and out of breath, too. But he's got a pile of schoolbooks around him, and is looking very determined.]

Tony? Could you bring me the transfiguration homework, maybe? ...Or, uh. [He pauses to clear his throat a little, with a wince.]

I dunno. If anyone wants to say hello, that's alright, too.


((OOC: Welcome to breach!Steve. He's bitty, a Keeper, prone to getting sick, and the most stubborn sonofabitch you will probably ever meet. He's also best friends with Tony Stark and Bucky Barnes, a decent student, and a pretty friendly guy despite his teeniness.))

[Steve's been playing 'let's catch up on seventy years of history' again, slightly augmented by that trip to Risa. By which we mean, he got to experience technology in the future. But here he is, settled down with a pile of books and looking just a tad disconsolate.]

I know it's 2012. I really do. But even here, I -- feel like I'm gonna have to turn on a radio and wait for it to warm up. Or like I could pick up a newspaper and check the next time the Dodgers are gonna play down at Ebbets. Just -- it's enough to know that what we fought for was worth it, but I've been looking at the library again; and it's ....

Let's just say this isn't the future I expected. Kinda figured -- well, hoped -- we'd get over setting differences on people because of the color of their skin, or where they're from, or because of something they can't do a damn thing about. I guess it was too much to hope for, even seventy years later. Sometimes I think that everything's changed, then I realize some things haven't, and I -- don't know how to help it. Wish I could.

....So, uh -- that was a flood. Huh. Thanks, Dick, for the clothes. I'll return them as soon as I've got 'em clean. [Yes, he's all back to normal size now.]

Anyway. To anyone who I might've said hello to, hi again. Properly, this time -- I'm Captain Steve Rogers. Nice to have you aboard the barge.

[Private to Agent Peggy Carter:]

I'm not... sure if this is going to work right, but -- hi, Peggy. [A slight pause, and then there's a small, slightly embarrassed, slightly nervous smile appearing on his face.]

I'm sorry about -- uh, well. Not knowing you. Apparently floods do that. But I'll do my best to make sure it doesn't happen again. We should talk, in any case, and I'm pretty sure I owe you a dance, if you don't mind it being a bit delayed.