tinker tailor winter soldier. (
redactions) wrote in
driftfleet2015-09-21 10:55 pm
002 ✪ audio + action
Who: Jim Barnes
Broadcast: Fleetwide audio.
Action: On the moon.
When: Sept. 20th.
Good morning. This is Captain James Barnes. By now we've assessed the damage to the ships — seems like it only slowed us down some, and whoever the enemy was they don't seem to have followed us. That's not why I'm here.
[ a half-beat of pause, then, ]
We can't guarantee there'll always be shields or weapons aboard our ships at any given time. That doesn't mean we can't work out a system to make sure we're covering for each other in a fight. If we can form groups of two or three ships, at least one with weapons, and coordinate a few flying formations, we stand a much better chance.
As for communications, if they're taken offline like that again we are going to need a solution. We used manual signalling in my War; I'm open to options that don't have us scrambling blind during a crisis like that.
[ a beat ]
We got lucky, this time. We might not be again.
Barnes out.
→ shooting range
[ You know. This is simple. The pistols take getting used to, but it's a matter of practice. Assembly. Disassembly. Ready, aim, fire. One end of the shooting range is devoted entirely to Jim trying out all the variants he can get his hands on. They are laid on the table in front of him neatly. ]
[ All the shots hit the centre ring of the target, if not, damned closed. He's not concentrating too hard or scowling, just seems perfectly placid, and steady. When he feels eyes on him, ]
Sorry, did you want [ gesturing to the row of pistols ] one a'these?
→ some seedy bar
[ This alcohol is completely algae-free and that might be the entire reason he's even bothering with it. This place doesn't look quite as ripe for sudden violence either; but there's still murmuring in the background and a card game that looks like it might be heating up. ]
[ He's sitting alone, in the corner, nursing a glass. Another one sits beside him, completely untouched. It's always been for Steve. ]
Broadcast: Fleetwide audio.
Action: On the moon.
When: Sept. 20th.
Good morning. This is Captain James Barnes. By now we've assessed the damage to the ships — seems like it only slowed us down some, and whoever the enemy was they don't seem to have followed us. That's not why I'm here.
[ a half-beat of pause, then, ]
We can't guarantee there'll always be shields or weapons aboard our ships at any given time. That doesn't mean we can't work out a system to make sure we're covering for each other in a fight. If we can form groups of two or three ships, at least one with weapons, and coordinate a few flying formations, we stand a much better chance.
As for communications, if they're taken offline like that again we are going to need a solution. We used manual signalling in my War; I'm open to options that don't have us scrambling blind during a crisis like that.
[ a beat ]
We got lucky, this time. We might not be again.
Barnes out.
→ shooting range
[ You know. This is simple. The pistols take getting used to, but it's a matter of practice. Assembly. Disassembly. Ready, aim, fire. One end of the shooting range is devoted entirely to Jim trying out all the variants he can get his hands on. They are laid on the table in front of him neatly. ]
[ All the shots hit the centre ring of the target, if not, damned closed. He's not concentrating too hard or scowling, just seems perfectly placid, and steady. When he feels eyes on him, ]
Sorry, did you want [ gesturing to the row of pistols ] one a'these?
→ some seedy bar
[ This alcohol is completely algae-free and that might be the entire reason he's even bothering with it. This place doesn't look quite as ripe for sudden violence either; but there's still murmuring in the background and a card game that looks like it might be heating up. ]
[ He's sitting alone, in the corner, nursing a glass. Another one sits beside him, completely untouched. It's always been for Steve. ]

no subject
[ Two is hardly more intuitive than one, and all he does is step forward after her shot to adjust her grip, and nudges her foot with his so she can adjust her posture. ]
Putting your money where your mouth is, I see.
no subject
I try to do that, too. Otherwise people might not take me seriously. Wouldn't that be awful.
[Another couple shots; closer, this time, much.]
no subject
[ Wry, as he makes one final, very minute adjustment, and then gives her a faint, approving nod. There's nothing more to change about her stance: only her aim. He expects that she faces the same things Peggy does: people thinking women can't do as much as a man when he knows several women who can outstrip one. Backwards and in heels indeed. Somehow it makes sense too that it'd be the same across worlds no matter how much it just shouldn't be true. ]
no subject
[She scrunches up her nose a little as she's adjusted, though it's not at being corrected; more at his question, what it implies, the way it sounds like he knows what the truth is even though he's asking.]
[Another two shots into the target: closer again.]
No, but also yes. No because people know I can break their backs with my pinkie; yes because somehow that's respected more with the more appropriate parts; no again because for a while I pretended to have the more appropriate parts. My life is tremendously complicated, as you can tell.
sorry for the delay, lost this notif
[ He knows the truth: he just wishes he didn't, or could hope for different. ]