OOM: Orpheus

[thekidfrombrooklyn]

Steve puts down his cup so he can hang his jacket, grab some towels and take off his damp clothes.

"Sorry about that, down by the lake," he says again. "I've spent enough time in the woods lately that they shouldn't seem strange to me."

Comments

[golden_lyre]

Orpheus smirks and stretches out on the bed.

"Where do you keep these sketches while you're on the front?"

[thekidfrombrooklyn]

Steve doesn't say anything as he sits cross-legged on the bed.

"I keep a few in my map case," he says quietly as he flips to a blank page. "But most of them stay here."

[golden_lyre]

"And the ones you do on the front?" Orpheus asks softly, nudging Steve's leg with his toes. "Do those go in the map case?"

[thekidfrombrooklyn]

Steve nods. "They tend to be a bit abstract."

[golden_lyre]

"Abstract how?" Orpheus asks, tucking his arms under his head.


[ooc: Bedtime.]

[thekidfrombrooklyn]

"Just parts of your body," Steve says. "Your hands, your eyes, your hips...

"I'll bring in my map case some time and show you."

[ooc: Good night!]

[golden_lyre]

"My hips?" Orpheus asks, smirking a bit.

[thekidfrombrooklyn]

Steve strokes the dip of Orpheus's hip with his thumb. "You have beautiful hips, my dear," he says quietly.

[golden_lyre]

"Hm," Orpheus says, smiling faintly.

[thekidfrombrooklyn]

Steve leans over to kiss his mouth quickly, and then begins to draw.

[golden_lyre]

Orpheus settles back comfortably, watching him.

[thekidfrombrooklyn]

"This one will be all of you," Steve says softly as his pencil scratches on the paper.

[golden_lyre]

"How often do you draw me?" Orpheus asks.

It's partly wanting his ego stroked, yes, but he's genuinely curious.

[thekidfrombrooklyn]

Steve shrugs. "Depends on how much down time I have. every couple days, maybe?"

He scoots back to the foot of the bed and pushes back the bedding so he has an unobstructed view.

[golden_lyre]

Orpheus nods. "Do people ever ask you about it?"

[thekidfrombrooklyn]

"Sometimes. I tell 'em it's practice. Musculature studies or somethin'."

He glances up with a smile. "I draw the guys a lot, too. They're used to me now."

[golden_lyre]

"Could I see some of those?" Orpheus asks, smiling.

[thekidfrombrooklyn]

"Absolutely." He smiles back and bends over the current drawing.

[golden_lyre]

"Will you tell me about them? Your men?"

[thekidfrombrooklyn]

Steve chuckles. "Well, you know Bucky. He's the sharpshooter.

"Then there's Dugan. He's another big Irishman," he flashes a smile at Orpheus, "though he's from Boston. A Southie, he says.

"Then there's Morita, our communications guy. He's from Fresno--a Nisei. He can make any piece of electronics talk to him.

"Jones is the languages guy. German and French. He was wasted as a cook in the regular Army, but that's segregation for you. We're putting him to better use, now.

"Falsworth was a paratrooper and he plans our jumps and pick-ups. He's actually English nobility but you'd never know it.

"Then there's Dernier. Munitions. He was French Resistance before HYDRA got him. I can't understand a word he says but he makes explosions into poetry."

[golden_lyre]

Orpheus smiles as Steve talks. "Why wouldn't you know he's nobility?"

[thekidfrombrooklyn]

"He doesn't make us call him 'my lord,' for one thing--unlike the only other member of English nobility I've met."

[golden_lyre]

"It's a title of respect," Orpheus points out.

[thekidfrombrooklyn]

"He just wants us to call him Falsworth.

"I don't make them call me Captain, either."

[golden_lyre]

"Why not?"