farsickness | February: For Love & Monsters

Entry tags:

February: For Love & Monsters

[A CATCHALL]

Who: Merlan and YOU
What: Feb. Catchall
Where: Gazin, Merlan's Clearing
When: All of Feb.
Warnings: Language, maybe.

❅ CHOP WOOD, BUILD STUFF

The trees are thick in her clearing, some need to be removed, yielding wood for cooking or for warmth and that means lots of chopping for her to do with an axe and a thick stump Merlin had felled himself for just such a purpose. It had been a large tree once that had become part of her main house and a tool shed. She could have used magic but the labour felt good.

Swing, crack, toss.
Swing, crack, toss.
Swing, crack, toss.

Eventually, she had enough to leave piles at the front doors of her residents to make sure they were warm and cared for. If they were home, she also had a basket with a knitted blanket, a scarf, mittens, a nice mug, and a hot beverage. No sense in people being cold.

"Good morning, wood and warmth calling," Merlan sang out.

❅ ON THE HUNT

Just because it was winter didn't mean the monsters stopped calling. Trapping them wasn't always an option, which she always thought was unfortunate. This time, though, something was eating a three-eyed crow who'd done nothing to deserve it and she'd been after the stupid bog wight for ages. Chasing it down had become an irritant to sat the least. She was sodden with snow, her horse was covered in mud, and she was miserable.

She nocked an arrow.

"Put down the crow," she grumbled, "or I'll put you down."

It roared at her and she sighed, releasing the arrow aimed for an eye.

❅ WILDCARD - Find her in Gazin, at home wherever, whenever.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"There's not much else I can do here," Bucky points out. "My power is essentially being stronger than everyone else and being able to shoot anything from a distance. I can't do either of those things in this place."

Gazin had taken his guns, again, and there's odd jobs, yes, but there's not so much crime that he has to defend anyone. He's retired, more or less, and it feels...weird.

"Then you should live here, help me out when I need it," she says a little airily. "I have a few more places built, warm and cozy. You get wood delivered, sometimes coffee if it's a good day. Your labour pays for your keep and there's actual showers in those homes."

Merlan looks super satisfied at the last.

"Showers, magic, work," she waves her hands a little as she gets down two mugs. "Not a bad gig. Especially if you want to earn a little coin and slap bad monsters with me on the side. Some of them can get a little frisky."

"I'll have to consider it. My best friend showed up," Bucky admits. He's happy about Steve being there and even though this Steve has been through some shit Bucky hasn't it almost seems as if they get one another more. They've been through places like this, things like this. It's helped to bridge the gap that got forced in by HYDRA all those years ago.

"So if he wants to move out here, you might have two guys around to help you haul things. He's as strong as I am." Thanks serum.

"I don't want to leave him, though. We've spent too much time apart and I'm...I've missed him."

"That sounds like fun, two haulers," she says with a grin. "You should talk to him about it, bring him by. This place needs some new faces in it. You shouldn't have to leave a friend, anyway. I have enough cabins for both of you or I can make a bigger one come spring or summer when the ground isn't solid."

Magic could help that if she concentrated but the weather was its own entity when it came to things like building. She got bored, she built, or hit the weapons at the anvil, or found something to fight, people to save.

Bucky laughs softly at that, just a huff, and wonders how he got to a place where a magic woman is offering him and Steve a place to live. It's not Brooklyn, that's for sure, and he thinks it's a hell of a lot better than some of the places he's been recently (and not so recently).

"It's appealing. I'd better present it to him before he decides to take someone else's offer," Bucky teases. "We're very sought after."

"Mm," she says, pressing the first of the coffee out into a cup. "I'd hate to lose such lovely people to someone else."

Merlan sets the cup in front of him and then turns back to empty the grounds before pressing the next cup out.

"I miss coffee makers," she says with a sigh, settling in at the table.

"Modern world is wonderful," Bucky agrees. "Of course, we made it like this back in my day. You ever make coffee in a sniper's nest? Tastes like shit. Of course, I don't technically remember it but people tell me I ought to so I've kind of made myself a memory."

It's easier that way, to make memories to replace old ones, and eventually the stories become true to him. You say it enough to yourself, it becomes your truth, even if it's just a fabrication to start.

"You mean you can't invent a coffee machine? What kind of witch are you?"

"Give me parts and I can make one," she said with a laugh. Merlan sipped her coffee and sighed.

Excellent and hot and everything coffee should be.

"If making memories like that helps, then it's a good thing and keep at it, I say."

"There's some stuff I remember," Bucky admits. "I remember how to dance even though I don't remember going dancing or any of the girls I went out with when I did. I remember all the steps."

He remembers the smoke in the dance halls too and when he listens to Glen Miller or any of the other standards, he remembers all the moves. It's just he doesn't remember the people.

"I think I was pretty good."

"Maybe you need to start dancing again," she says around her mug. "Been ages since I have. I used to be good but dancing is easy when you let go."

Merlan smiled into her coffee as she took a sip.

"I have the sense we don't dance the same way," Bucky says, laughing softly. "Unless they have Glen Miller in your world. Then, we might be talking. It's funny. I don't remember any faces or anything but it's like my body remembers how to do things."

Dancing, driving - all of it seems to be there with no real memories attached, just gossamer nothing he has to chase.

"Ellington, Armstrong, Shaw, kinda partial to Woody Herman, myself. Count Basie?" Her grin is a flash and a lift of her eyebrows. "Catchy stuff. Yeah, we have Glen Miller in my world. Big Band and swing might have died down after the war but it's not completely dead. Aussies had it, too. And jazz. Rock, too. I have eclectic tastes when it comes to it."

She waggles her mug at him and grins.

"Betcha I could learn your dancing if you taught me," Merlan murmurs from somewhere in her cup. "Let's make some new memories with some old moves."

Edited 2021-02-26 02:12 (UTC)

"You know all the good ones," Bucky says, dually impressed. "I bet you know all the steps too and I won't have shit to teach you. You have to be careful around girls like you. You're like four steps ahead of me at all times."

He drinks his coffee and thinks about it. "If we could get the music, I could try to see if there's literally one thing I'm better at than you are. Otherwise, maybe we're a draw and evenly matched."

"I did take dancing lessons at one point," she said, her smile genuinely sweet. "And a good lead works wonders. I think audio illusion would help us with getting the right music. Why have magic if you can't use it to create something fun and entertaining, mn?"

She thinks on it, her mind rolling around the possibilities.

"I'd love the be evenly matched. It sounds wonderful. Mind, I follow well but don't mistake that for me knowing the steps."

"Best dancer in New York," Bucky teases. "Or was, once upon a time. We should do that sometime so I can get my dance skills back up to par."

He's heard of Dancing with the Stars but they're not nearly as good as he used to be - the celebrity half of the pairs anyway. He's no professional dancer by far. Sad as he is to admit it, fighting has probably kept the choreography part fresh in his head.

"We should, on that I agree wholeheartedly." She lifted a hand slightly, her expression extremely amused. "Whenever you'd like. There's not many around here who'd be watching, so it's a lovely place to practise. If I'm going to be the partner of the best dancer in New York, I think I'll go for the least embarrassing option. Just in case I'm not as good as I think I am."

Edited (what is typing) 2021-02-28 00:00 (UTC)

"Well, you see, it's hard to be as good as I am. I've got years of practice to fall back on," Bucky says back, equally amused. He hasn't been dancing in a long time and the idea of it is a little exciting. He hasn't had a lot to be excited about in a long time.

"I've got three sisters, someone had to be their partner. I learned real quick what the newest moves were."

"Excellent," she murmurs teasingly, laughter just under the surface of her words, "all ready so well trained by your sisters. I count myself lucky, then, to have such expertise available."

She was looking forward to it as well, truth be told, even as she teased him. Dancing was a bit like flying, just on the ground, and with someone else. Merlan gives him a long, curious look.

"Have you ever been flying before? I mean," she looks up absently, "really flying with someone who has wings? Dancing feels like that sometimes. At least to me. I've been practising with the flying lately and using my wings."

She pauses.

"Oh...have I even shown you them?"

"No, I've never been flying with wings. Jumped out of an airplane a few times, though, and that's scary as shit."

He'd done it because it's his duty and now he's indestructible but it doesn't make it any more terrifying to come crashing toward the ground at impossible speeds. He doesn't know how Steve does that without a chute on a regular basis; the man is insane.

"I haven't seen any wings. You wanna show 'em?"

"It would be scary as shit," she said with a wide-eyed nod. "Jumping off high elements was scary enough for me when I was learning to fly. I can't imagine what it must be like to do that during wartime."

She pauses and smiles.

Merlan eases out of her chair, her coffee finished and very carefully opens her wings. It would have been easier outside but too late. They bend, curving so as not to touch the ceiling, and are gold fading into a purple-blue, bright, vibrant, with a subtle glow and shimmer to them. She's careful not to hit anything as she turns so he can see the way they look from the back -- how the downy gold turns into something pink-like in shade.

"They're warm, too."

"I'm guessing that's the invitation to touch?"

Bucky extends his right hand, feeling the feathers beneath his fingers. They don't feel like feathers. They feel warm, yes, but it feels different than what he expects them to feel like. Huh. Maybe it's some of her magic or maybe it's something else entirely but it's enough for him to stroke them again just to be sure.

"They are warm. Do you ever just wrap them around to keep the snow out? I would but I guess that's a dumb use for wings."

"Mm," she closed her eyes as he touched the wings -- they were sensitive but it also felt really quite lovely.

"I do, actually. And it's definitely not dumb when the snow is coming down."

"Snow's great when you're not in the city. Got my first taste of it a long time ago and the snow's cleaner when it's not being driven over."

He doesn't remember all of it but he does remember training and fighting in snow that was pure white instead of dirty and slushy the way it is in the back alleys he's been frequenting over the years. Of course, Wakanda doesn't have snow.

"Still damn cold, though. Gotta make sure you have a coat and a scarf."

"It's different for me now, being an angel," she murmurs. "Cold isn't so cold, heat isn't so hot. Working the forge is pleasant." She settles back into her seat, her wings folding and disappearing somewhere else. "But I'm more drawn to sharing the heat these days. I assume, with the heat, my feathers will be cooling. Kinda strange. But I can still wear coats and scarves like everyone else."

"Is that an invitation or something?"

Bucky isn't sure if it's a line or not, inviting someone to share heat, and he's not sure if he's ready for that. He gauges it, tries to decide if he's ready to be spending close contact snuggled up to someone else. He doesn't come up with an answer.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject