driftfleet | Centennials Are A Nuissance

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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. ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ He would be far less imposing if there wasn't glitter stuck in his arm and in his hair. Hopefully this shit comes out with a good scrubbing, or he's going to be pissed.

Natasha makes enough noise that he's aware of her as she walks into the kitchen. He eyes the package warily, thoroughly done with surprises for the next lifetime. Whose idea was it to send the Winter Soldier confetti bombs? Someone with a death wish is who.

He sighs, his shoulders sagging briefly. ]

I suppose it does. Don't see why it's such a big deal in the first place. Isn't the first one I've had here.

[ Definitely the first being celebrated, though. ]

You do realize it's customary to celebrate more than one birthday, right?

[The humor is warm in her voice, curling with her lips. She comes to stand next to him, setting the package on the counter while she studies the sparkles clinging to his arm.

For the moment, she doesn't offer to clean it off though.]

Especially big ones. Don't get much bigger than one hundred—you're looking good for it, by the way. I woudn't have guessed a day over eighty.

Maybe eight-seven.

Haven't celebrated one since before the war. Figured I would follow up with that tradition.

[ It's said lightly enough as he gives up the task for the moment to regard her gift. ]

Well, if that's the case, next year will be something to behold. [ He huffs. ]

Guess it could be worse. I could look my age.

Don't tempt me, Barnes. [Her tone makes it sound like she hopes he will. Or maybe like he already has.

Mostly it's teasing though.]

Open it. I'll warn you, I'm not exactly sure how much you'll like it, but at least I figured you could use it.

[As she speaks, she reaches up and risks coming some of the glitter out of his hair with her fingers.]

The thing about birthdays is that sometimes other people want to celebrate them. I think it means they like you or something. They're glad you made it another year.

[She trails off, leaving "even if he has a hard time of it" unsaid. It's also as close as she intends to come to saying she likes him or is glad he's still around. That would be too much.

If he opens the gift, he'll find a carbon black tactical knife. Seems well made, like the person who picked it out knew what they were doing. Because Natasha picked it out.]

[ As if he could dissuade her from the decision she's already made. The last gift he'd gotten from Natasha was a scarf, so he's willing to bet it's just as useful as the first. He pulls the package more toward himself, starting to unwrap it. ]

Hard not to make it another year in this place, isn't it? I get it, though.

[ He pulls the knife the rest of the way out of the package, appraising the gift. It's got to be up there in the list of his favorites. ]

This is great, thank you. [ Bucky unsheathes it, inspecting the blade and sharpness. Yep. Definitely his favorite knife. In fact, he's going to attach it now. ]

[Shopping for gifts that aren't useful gets tricky when both the giver and the recipient aren't real good at wanting things for themselves. But she'd like to believe they're on the same page that way at least.

She smiles when he approves of it, though.]

You'd think that, but plenty of people don't stay here that long. One or the other of us might not be here next year. One more reason not to let opportunities pass by?

[ It's a good thing that Bucky isn't a hard creature to please. Books, food, and knives are always winners in his heart. It never hurts to have more weapons- especially with how things have been heading with the Atroma lately. It helps to keep his crew supplied. ]

You've got to stop being right all the time.

You don't really want that.

[She smiles though, the backhanded compliment not lost on her, and drops her eyes briefly before teasing:]

Otherwise you wouldn't set me up so often.

I'm sure you'd find a way, even without setting you up.

[ That's kind of her thing, isn't it? ]

I like to think so.

[She gives him a sideways look after that, almost visibly turning a thought over in her head as she does.]

You really want to be left alone? There was one more part to your present, but then I can get out of your hair.

[As she says the last part, she waves her hand as though brushing glitter away from his shoulder.]

[ He catches the look, though sets it aside for the moment. ]

I don't mind this particular company.

[ Which is something he may not have said a few months ago, when he was still trying to figure her out again. ]

Is that so? Hm. In that case...

[Natasha hops up on one of the kitchen counters, making herself more comfortable. Or at least making it so she doesn't have to look up so far.]

Maybe I'll stick around a little longer.

I have a deck of cards. There's a few board games with some missing pieces.

[ He's just throwing out suggestions, now. It doesn't matter if she wants to do something or not. This is perfectly fine. ]

I'm not bored.

[Which isn't exactly saying no, but seems worth mentioning. She's okay with this, just sort of coexisting. It was nice.]

You know, I missed mine. My birthday. I think I might have been twelve at the time.

Then I guess it's only fair we're celebrating together. Don't have anything particularly strong, but there's a bottle of...something in the cabinet by your head.

Oh, we're not celebrating my birthday. I got out o it.

[Is that unfair? Probably. But she's not the one turning one hundred. Turns out she can very much sympathize with preferring not to draw attention to it.

That doesn't stop her from getting into the cupboard and pulling out the bottle, though.]

You'll have me at a disadvantage if we start in on this.

Now you know mine, the least you could do is share in the misery.

[ He shrugs, tilting his head slightly as he watches her. ]

It's entirely likely, though I doubt it's very potent. It's a bit like drinking water.

[She hums at that, not entirely convinced as she opens the bottle and smells it, but not getting much smell at all.]

Well, it's the thought that counts. And if you don't have friends to drink with you on your birthday, what do you even have them for?

[She will take a drink, game enouh.]

[ He holds out his hand for the bottle, because he's not about to let her drink alone. That is reserved for the darker times. ]

Well, I have to keep some of them anyway, don't I?

[She passes it over, wetting her lips as she swallows, smiling slightly.]

You seem to have quite a few of them at this point. Some of them pretty loyal.

The ones I keep close certainly are.

[ He takes a generous drink before passing it back. Doesn't do a damn thing for him, maybe she'll have better luck. ]

[Well, she's not Captain America. Or Winter Soldier. On the other hand, she's not a lightweight.

Figuratively speaking.

She takes the bottle back for another drink before she responds.]

Seems to be your type. [That being the case, Natasha could almost wonder why she'd be here.] It's sweet. You deserve it.

I don't know if 'deserve' is the right word to use. I don't take any of them for granted.

[ He makes it a point to look at her when he says it. She's included in that. How could she not be when they're both made of the same darker pieces that the others aren't? She understands him a little better than most- if only because of their background. ]

[She holds the bottle in her hands, dropping her eyes to it briefly before she offers it to him again.]

I think it's the right word.

[ What the hell, why not. He takes the bottle back and takes another swig before putting it on the counter between them. ]

Didn't mean it like that. Just sayin' it goes both ways.

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