( Steve really should invest in some armor. or at least a helmet. something to protect the pretty face, at the very least! this isn't the most terrifying he's ever looked, especially with his sweet little tourist-y shirt on. but that bruise across his throat like he failed breathplay 101 is at least slightly alarming. though, come to think, maybe a helmet wouldn't have helped him not get choked out by a tentacle.
to be perfectly frank, he does not think this is a real thing they're talking about. Gideon has the same energy as Dustin when he's talking about a campaign, talking about this obviously not real thing like it's obvious, stone cold reality. Steve viscerally remembers a time the kid burst into Family Video to giddily announce, Steve, man, we did it! We killed them all!. he had not entertained even for a moment that might be a worrying thing to bust into a room and say. Steve figures it's something like that. a lot more robust than a bunch of nerds huddled around a table together, considering Gideon's... everything.
but sure as shit not real magic, because despite being a bat snack 3 hours ago and magical transportation to an abandoned beach town, magic is still not his first thought when he comes up against something confusing. still, if there's one thing Steve understands, it sure as shit isn't ghost walking or necrowhating. it is babysitting. he looks at least mildly sympathetic, because, oh boy, does he relate to that sentiment. a little too well. )
Ah, shit. Been there. For once I showed up without the six children I'm supposed to keep from running directly towards the danger. Haven't seen anybody. Is she really a kid? ( because, that's a little fucked up, and Steve's reluctant maternal instincts don't like the sound of it. maybe he can help look around. as for the gelato cart, he waves an indulgent hand. ) Sure. Just ice cream. ( somewhere, someplace, an Italian is enraged by his dismissive, American notions of gelato. )
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to be perfectly frank, he does not think this is a real thing they're talking about. Gideon has the same energy as Dustin when he's talking about a campaign, talking about this obviously not real thing like it's obvious, stone cold reality. Steve viscerally remembers a time the kid burst into Family Video to giddily announce, Steve, man, we did it! We killed them all!. he had not entertained even for a moment that might be a worrying thing to bust into a room and say. Steve figures it's something like that. a lot more robust than a bunch of nerds huddled around a table together, considering Gideon's... everything.
but sure as shit not real magic, because despite being a bat snack 3 hours ago and magical transportation to an abandoned beach town, magic is still not his first thought when he comes up against something confusing. still, if there's one thing Steve understands, it sure as shit isn't ghost walking or necrowhating. it is babysitting. he looks at least mildly sympathetic, because, oh boy, does he relate to that sentiment. a little too well. )
Ah, shit. Been there. For once I showed up without the six children I'm supposed to keep from running directly towards the danger. Haven't seen anybody. Is she really a kid? ( because, that's a little fucked up, and Steve's reluctant maternal instincts don't like the sound of it. maybe he can help look around. as for the gelato cart, he waves an indulgent hand. ) Sure. Just ice cream. ( somewhere, someplace, an Italian is enraged by his dismissive, American notions of gelato. )