driftfleet | the white noise is deafening silence

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the white noise is deafening silence

[In the very early hours of January 20th, as the Marsiva and her captives drift nonchalantly through the depths of the universe, there is a call. Every single personal communicator and console springs to life, spitting out a stream of indecipherable static and showing only gray snow on screen. It continues like this for a few seconds longer, going black and then going staticky, and then the signal switches to the encrypted channel generally used for speaking to the Interceptors when something big goes down.

This is a little more successful. The voice may be familiar to some, at least through the static.]

Zhade here! I trust I ███ your attention? I'm having some ██▓▓ble ██tting through. Some of the ░▓██▓█ are missing. I can't ░▓▓▓ read on their loc█████ns. [A particularly long burst of static.] ███stening. I'll s█▓▓█ more inf██▓▓▓▓▓█ I get it.

Stay sharp! [There's the sound of someone actually doing the fingerguns wink noise, and then static.

Any messages sent back won't get through, and Zhade isn't there to answer.]

[ A blip of lost time passes right after those words, before every passenger mysteriously wakes alone in their own unfamiliar room. The style of decor resembles that of the Marsiva's Hospitality Deck, if any passengers should remember what that's like. It sounds and smells the same as the host ship as well, all clean and chrome.

Welcome back to the Marsiva, dear passengers. It's time for round three of calibrations. ]

[ This mingle will cover all non-calibration room interactions. Please continue to come back to it for the duration of the plot! You are, of course, free to post any other mingles/posts/etc. that you'd like. ]

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Usually, I'd say they can't but here... this might be the exception.

[If it's not the exception, if they can always poke through their heads like this, then it raises some uncomfortable possibilities?

But why go through all this if it weren't necessary for the calibrations?]

If you're hungry, I have some snacks. Help yourself.

Could be.

[It probably goes without saying that Bucky prefers to keep his guard up. Or perhaps it's simply telling that he doesn't trust anything that seems able to dig into his brain. Even if this isn't the usual course of action for the Atroma it's still enough to have him on edge.

Why do people need to be calibrated anyway? So far it hasn't been akin to being prepped or wiped, but he still doesn't trust it.]

Protein solids by any chance? [Not that Bucky's been too picky, not with what his metabolism requires to simply exist.]

You're in luck. [Wryly. It's not like they have a whole lot of options, is it?] You can pretend it's salami?

[It's not especially like salami aside from being salty. But what can you do.]

I've had worse.

Appetizing.

[But it's not the worst thing he's had either, so it's fine. He's definitely not going to voice that though; best not to tempt fate, or whatever passes for it around here.

It takes him a long moment to actually sit but he does so, warily. If he looks like he's ready to bolt at any moment, that isn't an entirely inaccurate observation.]

Thanks. [He doesn't just mean for the snack.]

[Natasha watches him, deliberately holding herself relaxed, nonthreatening. It's a conscious effort, but... not all that hard. She's fairly confident he's not going to turn on her without some kind of provocation.]

You're welcome. Hard to last long here without any allies, right?

Easier without them. [Easier without the weight in people's stares, the expectation that he's supposed to know them, the barely concealed disappointment when he doesn't. Easier to avoid people who aren't his shipmates, though that itself has become harder in being aboard the Marsiva like this. It's part of what he hates about this: the forced close quarters, the unavoidable interactions.

Even so, he is sitting, at least for the moment. It's not likely to last long, he's too much on edge and he'll admit how dangerous it makes him. The fact that he's forced into a schedule that matches everyone else's doesn't help; there's no retreat into the comfort of training when most are asleep.] But we don't always get what we want, do we?

[She doesn't quite laugh at that. She doesn't laugh because it's not really funny, but it sort of is if you think about it the right way.

No, no they do not.]

No, no we do not. Some of us even less than others.

[Sometimes it seems like Natasha could count the number of times she's gotten what she wants on her fingers and still have some left over. Not accurate, probably, but...

Barnes probably felt the same.]

Imagine a lot of people making it hard for you to be on your own.

[He'd made a lot of friends here before, now she imagined this Barnes would be stuck with at least some of them.]

[He wishes, and not for the first time, that he had a mission. Something clearly defined: get in, complete the objective, get out. Not that Bucky wants to be doing what he'd done for HYDRA; that's far from it. But he does want to be doing something other than staying cooped up on this ship with the possibility of having one's brain put on display for others to see.]

Understatement.

[Feeling the weight of one existence is bad enough; having more than that has been draining indeed. Having it in such close quarters doesn't help either, especially with people who recognize him. He knows there are more people who know him than he's encountered thus far but he's in no rush to meet them — especially considering the encounters he's had thus far.]

The sooner we get off this thing and back to the ships, the better.

[Back to at least the illusion of privacy, and a somewhat easier avoidance of people.]

That's something we can agree on. [Not the only thing by any means, she suspects, but she hates this. Hiding on their own ships for at least a week while they process the vulnerability and trauma of calibrations seems like the most reasonable things in the world.

Still.]

Probably once we're moving again, we'll be heading toward a new system soon. Good chance to stretch your legs and find some privacy.

Be nice to get back to a room that's sized more generously than a closet.

[~~Bucky, have you considered that you're just stupidly tall?~~ The quarters here certainly aren't the worst accommodations he's had, but they're also not as nice as the quarters Bucky had on the Starduck. Still, it definitely falls into that category of "things that could be worse" — which has the subheading "don't complain, they might make it worse."]

And a real workout facility.

[That gets a laugh out of her, rueful, but she knows very well how much space he takes up in a bed. She can see why he's looking forward to getting back to his own room.

Aside from the comfort that comes from being in your own space.

Natasha shakes her head.]

Miss that, too. It'd be nice to be able to work out some frustration. Take it out on the heavy bag?

A little. Usually it's more crowded than I'd like.

[Bucky, one person doesn't count as a crowd. But working out on the bag is only one way of working out, and there's certainly plenty of things he's able to do in the privacy of his own quarters, which is preferable. The forced attempts at interaction don't suit him well at all.

But at least she probably understands that too.]

But I suppose there's a small comfort in this being something that apparently happens on some sort of regular schedule.

[No, in Bucky's case, even one person does make a crowd. If Steve said something like that Natasha would tease him, push back. In this case, though... maybe in four months if they're still on speaking terms she'll make fun of him then.

For now, he's doing well enough.]

You could always see about getting some equipment for your ship. Not sure what they have over there now, but... probably room in the cargo bay.

[Which also might get a little crowded, but mostly people who he'd already know. Hopefully people he'd be more comfortable with.]

You mean every year or two? Yeah, seems something like that. It'd be a shame if the audience got bored with it.

It's pretty well equipped for that already. Someone before me must've had the same inclination for physical activity.

[He's grateful for it, at least. Of course the facility on Iskaulit is better but Bucky likes not needing to travel to that ship all the time, or having to share a shuttle since those numbers are limited. Also, in his figuring, he's assigned to the Starduck, which means that the ship is his main responsibility. It's something he can at least attempt to take seriously.]

Still counts as a regular schedule. And I suppose we should be happy that the ratings for it aren't high enough to keep us here longer, or more frequently.

[Natasha has a good guess who, too. It's not really relevant to this conversation, but she imagines Steve would have appreciated Barnes using it after him.]

Not entirely convinced these have anything to do with ratings. That's the line, but... [Natasha shrugs.] The last one was under suspicious circumstances. We'll say that.

Wouldn't surprise me if it was more a control thing than anything else.

[Which hits a little bit too close to home, and is also why he's not going to mention it. Still, all it does is underline one very important point: there are powers at work here who have power over them. This entire exercise, whatever it is, is doing an excellent job of reminding him of that fact.]

Some people don't need very many excuses to run experiments.

No, they don't. And at the end of the day, there's a lot we don't know for sure than we do.

[Which is her way of telling him he's right, that in the end it's all about power and control, whatever the rationalization is, whatever else they might accomplish.

She leans back, glancing up as she lets the conversation lapse.]

[They're on the same page, which isn't as uncomfortable as it could be. Then again, Bucky's had a little time to adjust to life in the Fleet; that most certainly makes a difference. And it's pretty clear to him that even being on the same page, there's precious little information to share because there's little to be gained, at least in their present circumstances.

He glances at her sidelong as the conversation dies off, then lets his eyes slide to the book she'd closed. It's an excuse and she'll know it as well as he does, but part of this truce-like thing between them is respect of boundaries.]

I'll let you get back to your reading. [A pause then, a little awkward maybe.] Thank you for the conversation.

[It's not a surprise that the conversation ends there. Natasha would rather let it end naturally than try to force it.

It's a long game with Barnes, and every step forward is worth guarding.

She smiles a little.]

You're welcome. [She opens the book again, but doesn't immediately start reading.] I can lend it to you sometime, if you want.

I might take you up on that.

[And he really might. Maybe. It's not a sure thing, but she's being more considerate than he would have anticipated. His own efforts don't amount to much in terms of trying, but perhaps the fact that they exist right now is enough.

Considering the last thing he remembers about her before coming here is an order to kill, it's enough. He stands, with the intent to make his way back to his room; solitude is still referable to all else in such close quarters.]

But don't rush it on my account.

No, I didn't plan on it. Just an offer... We end up with a lot of time to kill around here.

[Especially people who were inclined to spend time alone. Like the two of them.]

Might be a way to break up the monotony.

I’ll keep it in mind.

[Both the offer for the book, and the consideration of desiring time alone. After all, it’s not really about the book, is it?]

Thanks.

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