I came in like a wreeeeecking ball!

[reconstitution]

Who: Winter & You (poor bastards)
Broadcast: n/a
Action: Iskaulit
When: early am

[ OOC Note: This thread is mainly for closed CR, though new people who want to thread with Winter are willing to participate. Just keep in mind that the end results are predetermined! Personal threads won't be dependent on one another, but if you have any questions about anything, send me a pm or catch me at skorozima on plurk. This is a mod-approved augment glitch, the effects of which will only last briefly.

**Content of thread may hold Civil War compliant material, reader and participator be warned!** ]

[ Beginning;; Meditation Room ] 
[ It's early morning, not that it's easy to tell with the endless expanse of starlight outside of every window. Winter finds himself wandering into the mediation room after his morning workout. There's been a general sense of unease that he's been carrying for the past few days, though nothing has appeared out of the ordinary. 

It's different than the hyper vigilance he normally suffers from, like a whisper no one else seems to hear. Grabbing one of the cushions, he sits at the far end of the room with his back to the wall. His legs are crossed, hands settling on his legs. A deep, focused breath inwards, held for just a moment before it is exhaled through his nose. This is only the third time he's come to this room on his own, and he really is trying to make it a part of his day. It's still difficult. 

Things are silent, save for the normal creaks and groans of the Iskaulit. His head isn't buzzing with activity, and he's almost calm. 

Longing. 

The word reverberates sharply in his mind, causing his eyes to snap open in search of the voice. There's no one else around, yet the sweet, crooning lilt sounded like it came from right next to him. His heart is pounding against his rib cage. 

Rusted.  

Winter jerks almost violently. No no no no. Not here. How? his hands slam up to his ears to block the voice out, and the noise in his head increases. 

The voice is just as melodious and clear, somehow more prominent, now. A few more words are spoken so sweetly, even as he writhes on the floor with an angry howl. There's no way for it to stop. 

Trying to concuss himself doesn't work. The voice sounds almost chiding for his poor attempt. 

Then the words stop. Everything stops. And then, 

Good morning, Soldier. ] 

«Ready to comply.»

[ His limbs feel heavy, but he listens intently for the voice to give him his new mission. The Soldier is ready. 

Let's get started, shall we?  

Anyone who happens upon Winter in this state will be aware of a few things that are off. His stare is vacant and unsettling; those who met him his first week on the fleet will recognize it. It's certainly not the expression of someone who means you no ill-will. Winter's posture is aggressive and strained like a tightly drawn bow ready to snap. Any sort of verbal greeting is met with silence. ] 



[ Middle;; Hallways ] 
[ Whoever crosses paths with Winter in the halls is bound to have heard the commotion coming from the Meditation Room. Perhaps one of the unlucky ones made a fleetwide broadcast calling for backup? 

Whatever you were doing, you're not going to be getting very far. He clenches his metal fist, the plates shifting to accommodate the movement. His eyes are locked, harmful intent in his expression. 

You're next. Be prepared to fight for your life. ] 



[ End;; Gym ] 
[ While he's done a great deal of damage, he's not looking so hot, himself. At this point, Winter has collected a great deal of injury, though he doesn't seem to notice or even care. There is a mission. It must be completed at all costs.. 

Even if the metal of his left arm is warped, almost decayed and rusted in appearance. It hangs lifelessly at his side, fingers stuck in a half curled position. He's sporting a gunshot wound in his thigh and his abdomen, still oozing stubbornly. There are a few broken ribs, but that doesn't seem to slow down his rampage much. 

At least this way, he'll be easier to subdue. Maybe all he needs is a little cognitive re-calibration. ]

Comments

[mucked]

Steady -- [ she almost barks, taken aback by the sudden violence. peggy doesn't stand like a brick wall (she still considers him a friend!) but instead steps backwards, making room for his advance but not, it seems, clearing his way.

but this time she plants her stance, despite the heels. her shoulders square. ] What's the matter?

[ there's a nagging concern in the back of her mind; she ignores it, to her misfortune. ]

[reconstitution]

[ She moves, and it only serves to anger the Soldier. He is not a creature of reason, and the only repetitive mantra running through his head is mission.

His lip curls into a snarl, nothing but malice rolling off of him like a viscous poison. Still non-verbal, he strikes out at her again, aiming a backhanded strike to her head. ]

[mucked]

[ her instincts are dulled because of who he is, and because of how she trusts him. which means she reacts too late to the sudden strike, even as she's beginning to stiffen in the face of all his cold hollow looks. winter's hand catches her on her right temple, and all of a sudden the world explodes into klaxons -- her vision blurs, for a moment, and light blooms across the world. pain exists, but she has to ignore it.

peggy is staggered, but her fists come up like second nature. ] I don't want to fight you. [ her words are a little slurry. she doesn't want to, but she will -- if she must.

all the while she wonders what's happened to you, james barnes? ]

[reconstitution]

[ Unfortunately, he doesn't care what she wants to do. His mission is final, and he's going to complete it. The Soldier doesn't need to kill her- just incapacitate. The woman is stubborn, going up against him. She should have just stayed down.

Her fists come up and he's prepared to slug her again, aiming for her stomach. ]

[mucked]

[ -- you can't run away. you can't just stay down. steve taught her so, and so she struggles to keep on her feet. even after his fist crashes into her stomach (and something low on her ribcage seems to snap, and give) peggy is wrestling to stand again. the punch drove her metres away. blood trickles down her cheek and every breath feels impossible. her lungs strain to drag air back into her body.

but she grabs at the wall. and reaches under her leather jacket for the side-holster and the old revolver jim helped her buy back on the dusty moon. she cocks it now. ]

I made a promise. [ to take care of him, should this happen. to be that line in the sand that ends him if he cannot see reason. oh, she begs for him to see reason. ] Winter. James. Don't make me keep it.

[ her words are wheezes. ]

[reconstitution]

[ There is no giving up. There will be no failure. Hydra doesn't deal in loose ends. She is stronger than he had anticipated. A mistake he's not likely to make again. The target pulls a gun, and he would laugh were he capable of it. Instead, the Soldier dips his chin in challenge.

Do it. He advances on her slowly, eyes locked onto her face. ]

[mucked]

[ everything hurts. beyond burns, beyond stings -- there's a constituent pain in her side with every wheezed, and poorly taken breath. she can tell that multiple somethings are broken. a stuffy, thick feeling wraps itself around her head and in one eye she only sees the thick gummy redness of blood. but she aims the gun all the same.

aims it right for the head! the hard call; the tough shot. he needs to be stopped, but when it comes down to brass tacks, she balks before the commits to even trying to end him. she pulls the trigger and the bullet flies low.

non-lethal, even if he hadn't been enhanced. with a knowing groan, she retreats by another step. in the silence after the percussive shot, she wonders whether now's the time to try praying. ]

[reconstitution]

[ He levels a stare at her, sees exactly what she's intending to do, and dips his chin in a dare. Do it, woman. She doesn't, but the bullet hits him anyway, piercing his side. It's painful, the Asset puts a hand over the wound and looks back at the target seriously. Red seeps through his fingers, but it feels like it was a clean shot, the torso is fleshy enough there may be an exit wound.

He takes another few measured steps toward her, daring her to fire again. If she doesn't, that's on her. He'll take her down either way. ]

[mucked]

[ she has to hold the gun with two hands. this piddly little pea-shooter! in her prime, unhurt, she'd not have to think about aiming it. indeed, even injured, she'd had a clean shot at his head. she'd squandered it out of sentimentality, leaving fissures for mercy to sink in. she cannot kill james barnes -- couldn't, even were she capable of it.

the second shot is for the shoulder -- the fleshy one. but her aim is wobbly as her eye begins to swell up on the side of her head he'd initially hit. ]