Bucky Barnes | The Winter Soldier (
ostavil) wrote in
farsickness2020-04-01 09:35 pm
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001. Longing
WHO: Bucky Barnes & You
WHEN: 1 April
WHAT: Arriving
WHERE: Edge of the forest, Gazin
WARNINGS: An Intro thread, which is its own warning.
the forest
Plenty of things have prepared Bucky for situations like this. Both in the war and later, as HYDRA's asset, he'd been dropped into the middle of the woods and given little more than his own innate sense of direction and the stars overhead to guide him to his target or back to civilization, whichever the case may be. These woods, though, shouldn't be here.
He's been running. He's good at running. He's been running for a year, maybe more, but the land beneath his boots now isn't the land he's used to. He'd been weaving his way through city streets the last time and now he's here with a chunk of memory blank in between. Had he been conditioned? He tries to remember if he'd been activated, racks his brain to see if there's any target he'd taken out or any mission he'd accomplished, and he comes up with nothing. It's disconcerting. At least when he's under, he remembers everything even if he wishes he hadn't. The not knowing sometimes is worse the bloody memories he carries along with him of murders he'd committed as a hostage in his own mind.
He picks a direction and starts walking, deciding to stick with it until he comes out into some sort of field. Forests end, eventually, and he's good enough in the woods to survive a long hike. He keeps his tread soft and when a branch snaps, he goes stock still and slowly turns his head to see if he's been spotted.
gazin
It's a long walk until civilization but Bucky eventually finds it in the form of a small village that seems like it's been lifted from some sort of fairy tale. There's no internet, no phones, no electricity but there's what seems like a bar that has food and drink. He's aware he has literally nothing to trade with and nothing of value but he goes to the bar anyway and asks the barkeep if he can trade labor for food; he's got the strength to do anything the man wants but he's going to need food if he's going to be capable of doing it. It's a good enough prospect, apparently, because a few minutes later Bucky has dark beer and some sort of meat pie in front of him.
He's picked a table sort of in the back and while he can't hide in the shadows completely, he's far enough back that no one is behind him and he can see the door and the rest of the room from where he is. He doesn't have a knife and the food had only come with a stubby one. Bucky pockets it anyway, choosing a weapon over no weapon.
He doesn't have a glove to cover his left hand and he tries to obscure it, tries to keep candlelight from glinting on the bright metal.
WHEN: 1 April
WHAT: Arriving
WHERE: Edge of the forest, Gazin
WARNINGS: An Intro thread, which is its own warning.
the forest
Plenty of things have prepared Bucky for situations like this. Both in the war and later, as HYDRA's asset, he'd been dropped into the middle of the woods and given little more than his own innate sense of direction and the stars overhead to guide him to his target or back to civilization, whichever the case may be. These woods, though, shouldn't be here.
He's been running. He's good at running. He's been running for a year, maybe more, but the land beneath his boots now isn't the land he's used to. He'd been weaving his way through city streets the last time and now he's here with a chunk of memory blank in between. Had he been conditioned? He tries to remember if he'd been activated, racks his brain to see if there's any target he'd taken out or any mission he'd accomplished, and he comes up with nothing. It's disconcerting. At least when he's under, he remembers everything even if he wishes he hadn't. The not knowing sometimes is worse the bloody memories he carries along with him of murders he'd committed as a hostage in his own mind.
He picks a direction and starts walking, deciding to stick with it until he comes out into some sort of field. Forests end, eventually, and he's good enough in the woods to survive a long hike. He keeps his tread soft and when a branch snaps, he goes stock still and slowly turns his head to see if he's been spotted.
gazin
It's a long walk until civilization but Bucky eventually finds it in the form of a small village that seems like it's been lifted from some sort of fairy tale. There's no internet, no phones, no electricity but there's what seems like a bar that has food and drink. He's aware he has literally nothing to trade with and nothing of value but he goes to the bar anyway and asks the barkeep if he can trade labor for food; he's got the strength to do anything the man wants but he's going to need food if he's going to be capable of doing it. It's a good enough prospect, apparently, because a few minutes later Bucky has dark beer and some sort of meat pie in front of him.
He's picked a table sort of in the back and while he can't hide in the shadows completely, he's far enough back that no one is behind him and he can see the door and the rest of the room from where he is. He doesn't have a knife and the food had only come with a stubby one. Bucky pockets it anyway, choosing a weapon over no weapon.
He doesn't have a glove to cover his left hand and he tries to obscure it, tries to keep candlelight from glinting on the bright metal.
no subject
Bucky doesn't know what will happen if his arm gets destroyed here because there isn't the tech to repair it but from the way Merlan talks, she might know how to do what he needs. He slides off his glove and jacket, showing her his left arm.
"It's automated - technological. I haven't broken it but if I do, I'm screwed."
no subject
Merlan stretched out her hand questioningly so that she could get a feel on a psychic and magical level to see what she was dealing with. She was extraordinarily gentle with things like this and she could see the problem if something did happen. His arm would essentially be useless.
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It's something he's incredibly worried about, strangely enough, and he never thought he'd get attached to this foreign piece of metal.
"But feel free to touch it all you want."
no subject
Her smile is soft as she lays a hand against the prosthesis, looking up at him for a moment.
"I promise I shan't steal your arm, not now or ever," she says quietly like it's some sort of oath of fealty. "In any case," her voice drops into something gently teasing, "I think there's some sort of rule against arm-snatching after one shares coffee."
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"If you do need to work on it for an extended period of time and I can't wear it, just let me know. I guess I'll be stuck here for a lot of coffee and conversation while my shoulder's getting a rest."
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"Mm," Merlan said softly, "If I do need to work on it longer than usual, yes, I'd want to have you around so, agreed. Lots of coffee, lots of conversation."
no subject
He doesn't know nearly enough about how his arm works and while he loathes it, he also recognizes it as a necessary tool.
"So if we could figure out an easier way to keep it clean, that might be helpful."
no subject
She swirled her coffee around for a moment.
"You want me to work something up for anti-theft, too?"
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"I'm pretty sure I'm the anti-theft," he points out. "Would you try to steal anything from me? I sure as shit wouldn't. I don't take it off unless it has to be worked on and I don't let it out of my sight. But if you wanna put anti-theft on it, I guess it means nobody can steal me either?"
no subject
Sometimes she didn't need or want to charge. Merlan was already thinking about compounds to use in his arm's coating. There were a few options, one of them required a little hunting, the rest required knowing where things were in the forest.
no subject
In a way, Merlan seems like a more beautiful, magical Tony Stark. He'd rather put up with her than Stark, that's for damn sure. He's only seen the man on TV and that's more than enough for him.
no subject
She noticed how he had been covering it before as if he didn't want it to catch the light and offered the simple enchantment.
no subject
Disguising it, though, is an appealing thought. He could feel more normal in a crowd without long sleeves and a glove. He could wear short sleeves without eyes, could blend.
"I think I'd like that."
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"It'll be proper intent, so think carefully."
no subject
Bucky doesn't think it will come up in regular conversation. No one would ask about him hiding out in Romania and if they do, "Romania" is a good enough descriptor for that time. He could have used one of the code words but they still make him shiver. Having to say one might tip someone off.
"Great markets there."
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"There. Give it a try and think of your arm as it was before. It will take that image, the feel of it and apply it properly."
no subject
As he gets the idea in his mind, he says his sister's name. It's soft and small, almost as if he doesn't trust it'll work, and he's damned shocked when it does.
"Hey...that's pretty damn perfect."
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Merlan lays her hand against the disguised arm and her hand is warm from the coffee she has been nursing. He should be able to feel it as though nerves and the sensation of her skin against his run to his brain. She likes this application of magic as most as much as she likes forging things. Giving something back to someone is always brilliant.
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"I never...I don't know how you do this," Bucky says, trying to find the words. "But I never thought I'd have it back. It feels like it's back. It feels like me again. What can I do for you? You have to need something."
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She would probably need a nap really soon.
Her green eyes were filled with something softly jubilant and her smile all but glowed or that might have been her wings which shone as her wingtips brushed out to touch his cheeks.
"You're welcome here any time you wish and you may come and go as you wish. Magic has its price but that I'm going to pay in a little while. But this moment is enough and I am so very pleased with it."
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It's legitimate. He's never been fond of charity and he's always worked for everything he has. He has to figure out what she could possibly need so he can get it for her in exchange for this wonderful gift.
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"You're always welcome in my home."
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"If I wake up to this arm choking me to death, I know who to blame," he teases, though his voice is a little tight. "It's not going to do that, is it?"
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Her clear hazel green eyes find his as she smiles.
"Be at peace. Nothing in this space will harm you."
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It's a little awkward to be in anyone's space and not be there to kill them so Bucky has to sit with that for a moment and just breathe. It's not unpleasant by any means but it is new and that's something he's going to have to just learn how to do again.
"Better be safe. Otherwise I might get eaten by a dragon or something outside."
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