ONE.
( well, compared to the Upside Down, a beautiful seaside town is a great place to show up barefoot and shirtless. a lot better than a squishy, creepy alternate version of his home town, where the ground feels like it's breathing, and the air is thick with a terrifying kind of ash nobody can quite explain.

still, without demobats flapping around hoping to finish the job, Steve feels very keenly the shirt he is not wearing.

covered in muck, blood, and other unspecific Upside Down grime, it feels a bit bad to linger on the spotless streets. but he needs a shirt! and he's been waiting. and waiting! and nobody has shown up. for fear of looking tourist-y, these shirts are as good as any other shirt, huh? and maybe if he leaves some cash (does he even have some cash??), it'll... it'll work out. maybe everyone is out for lunch. maybe it's a much sunnier version of the Upside Down, and nobody is gonna give a shit if he takes a shirt, anyway.

so he elbows wearily out of Eddie's vest, picks a shirt at random and pulls it over his head. it's... well, it's slow going, with his sides half eaten away by faceless bats. so of course, he's only halfway there, head through and one arm in and one arm out, when someone shows up, because, of course they do. ) It's not what it looks like. ( a beat. ) Okay, it's exactly what it looks like. ( he's super stealing this shirt right now PLEASE DON'T BE MAD. )

TWO.
( eventually he finds the archway, looking off into the fog. he's a lot cleaner than he was when he was stealing his touristy shirt, so, lucky whoever has to deal with him next! Steve is frowning, arms crossed, staring off into the fog with his eyebrows tucked downward. he looks like a stern dad that is still contemplating what lecture he wants to give.

when someone approaches, and seems too inclined to wander into the nameless mist, Steve does catch them by the arm. )

Wa-wait. Okay. Chill out, would you? I've seen enough horror movies, I'm gonna guess we don't wanna go out there. That's an ominous ass fog. ( a beat, an appraisal. if his company seems tough enough to Handle an ominous ass fog, he continues, ) So we don't wanna go in there unarmed, all right? ( YEAH, WHERES A FUCKN LAMP?!?!? it doesn't have to be a baseball bat, he'll make do! )

THREE.
( Steve has been wandering. he's spooked in and out of all sorts of shops. he stole this nice t-shirt. it's been a full day, is the point. and a guy gets hungry, it's inevitable! it's not his fault. it feels a little questionable to eat food in the creepy ghost town, but also, he hasn't eaten since he got sucked through Watergate. he's gotta eat! he's gotta eat. so he's gonna.

and ice cream seems fairly harmless, doesn't require much in the way of chewing, which is nice when bats ate off half of your abs. there's something ironic about it. if he closed his eyes, maybe he'd hear the stupid nautical shit they played at Scoops. the company spiel is stuck to his tongue. ahoy there, are you ready to take sail on an ocean of flavor?

fuck. this is the worst. Steve is half into the ice cream case when someone ambles up, and he grimaces. ) You gotta get your own, ( Steve says, instantly. defensively!!! he's nobody's scooper anymore, all right??? that part of his life is over. ) What the hell is stracciatella, you think? ( doesn't really matter, he's gonna eat it anyway. )

( look. he's not... he's not really a puppet show kinda guy. that's what this is, right? whatever. it's just there's not a ton else going on in town. and it's something to do. maybe there's answers hidden in there somewhere! Steve watches, and tries to pay attention. there's a king, he thinks, and a queen. and that's where he gets pretty lost. the king dies twice?? how does that work???? and there's some freaky parts there in the middle, that don't jive well with the fact it's puppets. isn't this for kids?

by the time it is over, Steve feels a little... well, miserable, is a good word. usually he's a lot better at checking out of what he's feeling to focus on the moment. now is not a good time, to get really stuck in how shitty it is to go from a high stakes situation where he was needed (or at least useful, at least somewhere he can do something for people he cares about) to... here. watching confusing puppet shows, not having the faintest clue what they mean. an insufferable amount of silence setting in.

it feels bad. all the same, when he snuffs and rubs his nose, Steve is surprised to find he is crying. he's not much of a crier, is all. he sniffs again, bemused as much as unhappy. and great, just great, somebody is staring! ) I'm totally cool, ( Steve says, in a watery tone that does not sound totally cool at all. he pulls up the fabric of the shirt he's wearing to try and dab at his face. it's not very effective, unless the purpose of the gesture was to show off his bat wound bandages. ) Really cool, ( Steve repeats, distantly. yeah, sure buddy. )

( Steve has spent the last three weeks waiting for the other shoe to drop. for something to go wrong. for things to go sideways and murderous. he doesn't feel inclined to an I told you so but the fog rolling across the streets and the strange tilt to the air just feels inevitable. it was always gonna go wrong, and thank goodness he was expecting it to.

it'd be dumb for him not to expect it, at this point.

when he leaves the apartment he's taken over, he brings his bat with him. Steve has felt a little safer since he woke up and found it under his bed, just like how he used to sleep at home. he doesn't know how that works, but he's grateful for a weapon he's used to having in his palm as he wanders town.

he's careful with his batteries, so his flashlight has charge. flicking through shops that don't seem much different, except for the fact the power is out. the food seems to be going south fast, though. Steve makes a point of collecting stuff that seems like it'll keep.

of course, just a carpet of fog isn't all they have to worry about. it's mid-scavenge when an ominous clunking echoes on the sidewalk outside. ) Fuck, ( Steve mutters, pressing against the shop door and peering carefully outside, spanning the fog carefully with his flashlight. he's expecting something besides another sucker that's been lost in town for the past few weeks, and startles despite himself when that's what his flashlight lands on instead. ) What the fuck! ( Steve accuses, perhaps a little too loud. but also, what the fuck! who is snooping around in creepy fog, what the hell is that about? why would you do that to a guy? )

might be game for another prompt! feel free to pm me or catch me at meowed if you want to plot! for reference, i'm debating a canonpoint for steve, but right now i'm running with end of s4v1. can avoid spoilers, just let me know if that's your preference!