[ the thing about whenever new summoned start slipping through the weird god pond is that steve has to try to keep his expectations low. there are always murmurs about finding someone from home, and he remembers what it was like - walking through the markets just to notice a head of red hair, or robin bursting out into the nocwich square because she'd been here for a month and he'd been locked away in some underground trauma basement (don't ask, but also dustin will probably hear about it, one way or another). anyway, what steve is trying to say, is that he likes being helpful when new summoned make their way into the primary settlement. he likes offering directions, or getting people connected with the right local, or hell - even passing over a cup of mead or hot cider. it's just a balance game between don't get too excited and maybe you should keep asking around to make sure you got everyone.
and really, steve likes to think he's done a pretty decent job over the last few rounds of keeping himself realistic. for all that he misses robin, and the brats, and nancy, and robin again, and dustin - he doesn't really know if it's cool of him to want them here. eddie being here is different, because he and eddie got here at the same time, and...well. everything else. but that's different, and yeah, they've both talked about how much they miss the people from back home. how nice it'd be to have some of them around.
these are all thoughts that sit under the surface of steve's day to day. he tries not to actively think about them, though it's definitely harder when the whispers start. steve, knowing at least what he can do in this situation, starts out into the square with hats and mittens, a blanket or two, because not everyone was raised in Indiana winters and even if they were, this shit still sucks.
and that's where he is, when he sees it. when he sees him. steve freezes to the spot because it's a head of curly hair and he's just about at the height it's supposed to be, and he's talking endlessly about...something. does it matter what? does it ever? because while steve watches, his breath caught in his chest, half of him tries to figure out if this is real while the other half prays - pretty desperately, to whichever god might be listening - that this is real. it's during that moment that he catches the kid's hands slipping food into his pockets, his very full pockets.
does he not know that he could probably just...ask for it? did anyone actually give him the talk? quickly, and pretty seamlessly, steve's thoughts go for no way this can't be happening to time to step in and show him the ropes, and it's that switch that propels steve to speak, cupping a hand to his mouth so he can yell across the distance between them. ]
Henderson! [ and alright, maybe this is the time to be hopeful. to get excited. steve doesn't bother hiding the way a grin breaks out across his face. holy shit - he's actually here. ] Hey!
solvunn a-ish. YELLS AND SCREAMS AND RUNS AROUND!!!
and really, steve likes to think he's done a pretty decent job over the last few rounds of keeping himself realistic. for all that he misses robin, and the brats, and nancy, and robin again, and dustin - he doesn't really know if it's cool of him to want them here. eddie being here is different, because he and eddie got here at the same time, and...well. everything else. but that's different, and yeah, they've both talked about how much they miss the people from back home. how nice it'd be to have some of them around.
these are all thoughts that sit under the surface of steve's day to day. he tries not to actively think about them, though it's definitely harder when the whispers start. steve, knowing at least what he can do in this situation, starts out into the square with hats and mittens, a blanket or two, because not everyone was raised in Indiana winters and even if they were, this shit still sucks.
and that's where he is, when he sees it. when he sees him. steve freezes to the spot because it's a head of curly hair and he's just about at the height it's supposed to be, and he's talking endlessly about...something. does it matter what? does it ever? because while steve watches, his breath caught in his chest, half of him tries to figure out if this is real while the other half prays - pretty desperately, to whichever god might be listening - that this is real. it's during that moment that he catches the kid's hands slipping food into his pockets, his very full pockets.
does he not know that he could probably just...ask for it? did anyone actually give him the talk? quickly, and pretty seamlessly, steve's thoughts go for no way this can't be happening to time to step in and show him the ropes, and it's that switch that propels steve to speak, cupping a hand to his mouth so he can yell across the distance between them. ]
Henderson! [ and alright, maybe this is the time to be hopeful. to get excited. steve doesn't bother hiding the way a grin breaks out across his face. holy shit - he's actually here. ] Hey!