Зимний солдат (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
reconstitution) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
driftfleet2017-03-11 11:18 pm
reconstitution) wrote in driftfleet2017-03-11 11:18 pm
Centennials Are A Nuissance
Who: Bucky Barnes & You!
Broadcast: Fleetwide
Action: SS Heron
When: 3/10
[Broadcast;;]
[ The feed opens up with a view of the Heron's cargo bay, set upon a surface and focused on a very plain, yet sizable crate set in the center. Bucky comes into view, absolutely suspicious of the box addressed to him. He circles the crate a few times before kneeling and pulling out a knife so he can shimmy the lid off. It's removed very carefully and set to the side, much like he's diffusing a bomb. It may as well be, he knows what day it is, and this is obviously some weird thing from the Atroma.
He lifts a piece of paper from the top, skims through it quickly and crumples it and tosses the offending thing across the cargo bay. Bucky takes out a package that looks harmless enough- the crate is filled to the brim with very questionably made bottle rockets? Fiddling with it ends in a very harmless but extremely unnecessary explosion of glitter and confetti.
Boy, those sure aren't very nice words are they? Bucky seems to realize that the communicator is broadcasting this catastrophe, so a very glitter and confetti-covered captain stomps over to the device to shut it off. Not long after, a text comes through the network. ]
I don't care who takes the damn things, just get them off my ship. There are 99 more...
[Action;;]
[ Throughout the day, Bucky can probably be found sulking around the Heron, or sitting in the kitchen trying to clean glitter out from between the plates of his arm. His mood would be so much better if there were cake. ]
Broadcast: Fleetwide
Action: SS Heron
When: 3/10
[Broadcast;;]
[ The feed opens up with a view of the Heron's cargo bay, set upon a surface and focused on a very plain, yet sizable crate set in the center. Bucky comes into view, absolutely suspicious of the box addressed to him. He circles the crate a few times before kneeling and pulling out a knife so he can shimmy the lid off. It's removed very carefully and set to the side, much like he's diffusing a bomb. It may as well be, he knows what day it is, and this is obviously some weird thing from the Atroma.
He lifts a piece of paper from the top, skims through it quickly and crumples it and tosses the offending thing across the cargo bay. Bucky takes out a package that looks harmless enough- the crate is filled to the brim with very questionably made bottle rockets? Fiddling with it ends in a very harmless but extremely unnecessary explosion of glitter and confetti.
Boy, those sure aren't very nice words are they? Bucky seems to realize that the communicator is broadcasting this catastrophe, so a very glitter and confetti-covered captain stomps over to the device to shut it off. Not long after, a text comes through the network. ]
I don't care who takes the damn things, just get them off my ship. There are 99 more...
[Action;;]
[ Throughout the day, Bucky can probably be found sulking around the Heron, or sitting in the kitchen trying to clean glitter out from between the plates of his arm. His mood would be so much better if there were cake. ]
Action
Once she's stashed away a suitable haul, she's off to make a complete nuisance of herself. So while he's sitting there
sulkinggrooming his shiny metal arm, there'll be an abrupt crackling of electricity before Livewire's leaning over his head with a fantastic disregard for personal space.]So Sourpuss, what's the occasion? Greasemonkey give ya clean bill of health?
[...yep, totally just floating there. Not that she needed to levitate of course, but she is trying to discharge some power as a precaution, what with the ship being submerged and all. But at least she's being real nice about it and not short circuiting everything in the room.]
Action
The telltale crackling sets him a little more on edge, the tension rising in his shoulders, but his expression remains neutral. It changes only long enough to glance at her, clearly disapproving of her proximity. ]
Something like that.