sinistral: (★ 32)
James Buchanan "Bucky" Barnes | ɹǝᴉploS ɹǝʇuᴉM ǝɥ┴ ([personal profile] sinistral) wrote in [community profile] driftfleet2019-03-12 05:29 pm

02. | All lies and jests; still a man hears what he wants to hear

Who: (Winter Soldier) Bucky Barnes ([personal profile] sinistral)
Broadcast: No
Action: Yes; SS Starduck, SS Iskaulit, B'lire
When: From the start of the post-calibrations drift to visiting the new planet



SS STARDUCK
Reacclimation;
The time spent aboard the Marsiva had been uncomfortable, to put it politely. Bucky still doesn't believe it, not really, when they're returned to their own ships; it comes with staying awake for the first twenty-four hours just to make sure this isn't a dream or a trick of the mind. Considering the state of his mind, he's not entirely convinced, but it does seem a little bit elaborate to just be a part of the Calibrations.

And if this is truly the ship, if they are truly back to what passes for daily life around here, then it has to start with checking over everything. Maybe he's taking the whole idea of Security a bit too literally but now that he's had some time to think about it, he can only conclude that his presence and assignment here is due only to what he is. What HYDRA turned him into has made him valuable; if he performs his role well, perhaps the switch inside his brain won't be flipped. So for that reason he's combing all of the ships nooks and crannies, looking for anything that might be out of order or out of (what passes for) the ordinary. He won't enter a crewmate's quarters without being asked to do so though; he sees it as too much an invasion of privacy.

When he's finally satisfied and no longer has that activity to occupy his mind, Bucky heads to the workout area in the cargo bay. He doesn't know which former crewmembers had seen to the upgrades of the equipment there, but he's thankful to be able to take advantage of it once more. And, judging by the force behind his punches, to do his best to attempt to break it. There's a lot of frustration to work out, enough so that it's definitely palpable. Call him out on it? Try to keep up? Pity the amount of protein solid he's going to have to consume to compensate for all those burned calories?


SS ISKAULIT
Work It Out;
Bucky really only has one goal in mind in coming to the Iskaulit: to push himself in a way he can't with the limited facilities on the Starduck, to force the body into exhaustion since the brain won't accept any other sort of quiet. That it's not the healthiest pursuit doesn't matter. As long as it works, it's fine. And he'll make it work.

He tries to choose odd hours if possible, hours that coincide with the times he'd expect most people to be sleeping and the facility to be empty. It doesn't always work in his favor but as long as there's a heavy bag or a speedbag available he stays, alternating time spent against the bag with weights. And if the facility appears too busy for his liking, he simply leaves with the intention of returning later.


Art Appreciation;
Though most of his time spent aboard the Iskaulit is spent in the gym, it's not the only reason Bucky visits. He hardly appreciates heavy-handed attempts at steering his actions but whether it had been the Vision, or the Atroma acting through the Vision, the scene he'd been shown of the mural aboard the Iskaulit has not faded from his memory. That in and of itself is significant enough for him to seek out the mural he'd been shown, to find its location and maybe figure out why it's so important.

Seeing it doesn't bring him any answers.

It's a nice enough work of art he supposes; he's not one for appreciation of the arts, and he's got no skill in them himself. He can draw a rough map though, so the next time he visits, he brings along a journal and starts copying down that section of the wall he was shown aboard the Marsiva, mapping it out in rough lines on the paper. It's not a good drawing, more a diagram than anything else, but it's good enough for his purposes, good enough for him to write down his thoughts (questions, mostly) on the next few pages. And it's a good enough place to sit quietly, back against the wall because even here, in a place that's supposed to be peaceful, he's defensive and closed off more than anything else.


PLANETSIDE
Hunting;
It's more than a literal breath of fresh air to get off the ships and onto solid ground again. It's not that Bucky doesn't do well with being cooped up; it's more that the close quarters with others — even his shipmates — and the happenings on board the Marsiva have him feeling like a caged animal. And like a caged animal, his first instinct is to lash out; fortunately, the punching bags have held up against such expulsion of energy. So far, anyway.

Fortunately, this system's planet seems well suited to his kind of stress relief.

He's a regular in the wooded areas both for the exercise of hiking and the action of hunting. Ghosts or supernatural beings or whatever, he'll keep an eye out for them just fine, but it's the more substantial creatures that he makes his prey. People are willing to pay both for pelts and for the meat from carcasses; it seems a good use of his time.


Shopping;
Man certainly can't stay in the woods all the time and while Bucky's no stranger to wilderness survival, it'd be foolish not to take advantage of the offerings available via trade. And not all goods are physical; there's certainly something to be said for the pursuit of information, even though little enough of it seems to pertain to anything outside of this world's particular customs. Still he asks, here and there, unsatisfied by the answers but unwilling to stop trying.

He's examining wares at a particular establishment, carefully testing the weight and balance of a hunting knife while keeping half his attention on the conversations of the building's other occupants. It's when he overhears stories of a metallic man that he decides to take his leave; local legend or not, it definitely sounds like something he'd rather avoid being tangled up in and he's glad to have kept the habit of wearing long sleeves and gloves when going planetside. It's just easier to avoid the questions that he doesn't want to answer.


WILDCARD
Elsewhere;
Did we discuss something and I forgot? Have another idea? I'm open to almost anything, hit me up via PM or at [plurk.com profile] sometimesamuse and we'll figure out out. I do write starters in prose but if you prefer brackets I'm happy to match.
unbearablynaive: (are we)

shopping

[personal profile] unbearablynaive 2019-03-12 09:57 pm (UTC)(link)
Down on the surface of the planet, the Vision is also out shopping - there are the usual ship supply runs for fresh comestibles, and he'd like to find some kind of local plant to add to his garden on the Twin Roses. He seems, however, to be caught listening to a long-winded tale from a local about some kind of sentient plant, and while he'd been initially interested, the man has by now started to repeat himself, and he's looking rather like someone in need of an escape. Spotting a familiar gait in the crowd, he does just that. He raises a hand to wave from a distance and covers the ground between the two of them quickly.

"Ah, good afternoon, my friend. Please invent an excuse to talk about something besides the 'Swamp Tangler', I'm rather desperate to get away from that at the moment."
theladyofwinterfell: (in the summertime)

hunting

[personal profile] theladyofwinterfell 2019-03-12 10:27 pm (UTC)(link)
Sansa isn't normally one to go hunting or ranging. This is Jon's bailiwick, quite honestly, but she feels comfortable enough accompanying Bucky to the woods. He's been training her in the Fleet, yes, but here they have privacy and the luxury of being able to speak freely. Those things don't come easily to them and Sansa wants to take advantage of both while they're in this system and not drifting.

They're in a clearing now, cleaning a kill, and Sansa speaks up a bit since they don't have to worry about scaring off game. "Is there something I can do to help or should I just keep you company?"
theladyofwinterfell: (and count to ten)

[personal profile] theladyofwinterfell 2019-03-12 11:00 pm (UTC)(link)
"I'm probably going to have to learn how to do it if I ever get back home," Sansa points out. "The men will be marching to war, everyone capable of holding a spear or a sword. It will fall to the women to hunt and gather to feed us all for the winter. If I can learn to hunt and clean game, it will be beneficial."

Sansa knows that hunting in the Wolfswood while it's covered in snow will be a lot different than this planet but the point remains: it's something she probably needs to know how to do before she gets back home and it becomes a necessary task. If she and Bucky can make a bit of money selling meat and pelts, that's just a side benefit.

"I don't mind the mess. Dresses can be mended and washed."
outstandingbalance: (pic#10792590)

art appreciation

[personal profile] outstandingbalance 2019-03-13 01:28 am (UTC)(link)
Funny she'd find him there. Or, not really funny. She could call it ironic, she supposes, but it's not that either. In a way, it's exactly what she'd expect. Natasha is aware of Barnes journalling. It's just the fact that she catches him here in the act that strikes her as something.

Maybe just bittersweet.

She gives him space, not interrupting and not trying to move into a position where she could read over his shoulder or guess at what he was writing. She was also careful not to put herself between him and the door.

"First time you've looked at it?"
brooklyn_boy: (stunned)

Work it Out

[personal profile] brooklyn_boy 2019-03-13 02:11 am (UTC)(link)
Steve knew they'd cross paths eventually. There was only so many people and so many places to go without bumping into someone. Still, as he crosses into the gym and sees Bucky --his Bucky-- working out it freezes up every muscle in his body. Options cross his mind: he could leave, ignore him, or say something. He remembers what Vision had said about Bucky and feral cats and crosses out saying anything. Leaving too was too much like running away. So he'll just ignore him. Yeah. After all, Bucky might not even remember him enough to care he's in the room.

That's a souring thought.

But it's enough to free him from indecision. Steve walks in all the way, heading over to the heavy bags as he had planned to. Just two guys working out. Nothing strange about that.

Nothing at all.
passingthrough: (Smile)

planetside / hunting

[personal profile] passingthrough 2019-03-13 02:26 am (UTC)(link)
[Kitty is decidedly not hunting, but she is deep out in the woods. She's not terribly interested in the past times or legends of the locals. She expects there will be unusual looking creatures in the forest because she's on a planet she's never visited before. That's what all the creatures everywhere have been—unusual. At least to her expectations. It doesn't make her more interested in bothering them than usual. And while she has hunted for food before, she can't build up much interest in doing it for money especially when she already has a job at Malum and makes plenty off ratings.

No, instead, she's just enjoying nature after being cooped up on the ships for so long. She never would have pictured this for herself. She grew up in a suburb of Chicago. It wasn't exactly the most paved place in the world, but it wasn't this either. But after seeing the world Apocalypse created with all the death and destruction that left everything charred and ruined she just liked being around so much life. Probably another reason the hunting doesn't suit her here. Still, no judgments for those who do. She's happy to just hike up a trail or sit in a tree as she's doing now when she notices someone coming.]


All hail the talking tree of B'lire!
stillgotmyleftarm: (uneasy)

shopping!

[personal profile] stillgotmyleftarm 2019-03-13 03:46 am (UTC)(link)
This is Bucky's first planet, and he almost doesn't know what to expect. He might almost, almost be a little disappointed it seems so Earth-like, but he knows that's stupid - someplace with lava for streets or maybe no ground at all would look cool, but probably be a horrible idea. Or something.

Either way, it's not Earth, and he's got precious little in the way of actual possessions of his own, so he's making his way through the shops, dismayed that he can't seem to find any firearms more advanced than something somebody would've used in the Civil War. Sure, Red Fish has an armory, but he's only willing to trust a weapon essentially given to him by a kidnapper so far.

He's stepping into another shop when he spots a profile, starts to move on - and does a double-take. Because that's his own profile, it's like his brain thought at first he was walking past a mirror, but it's not. It's not a mirror. It's him, but it's not him - longer hair, maybe a little more bulk, definitely a different fashion sense.

Well. This is a shitty way to do this, but he's been meaning to find his other half. Guess it's a fucking sign, or something - he steps up toward the guy's right - close behind him but not too close - and says quietly, "Hey. Five o'clock," announcing his position. Soldier to soldier.
stillgotmyleftarm: (quietly)

[personal profile] stillgotmyleftarm 2019-03-13 01:48 pm (UTC)(link)

The reaction he gets is, honestly, about what he expected. Not that he's talked to Steve at length about... well, Bucky, but the impression he's gotten seems pretty accurate so far.

That, and the one time he's met his Steve, who's also on edge and prickly, to say the least.

Bucky doesn't move; he stays where he is, where he'd said he was, and answers the question honestly: "To talk. Couple of minutes, that's all. I've never met myself before." He pauses. "If you're busy, I can wait." Maybe giving a little will get him something in the end.

passingthrough: (Amused - Sideways glance)

[personal profile] passingthrough 2019-03-13 02:48 pm (UTC)(link)
[She's pretty sure she knows that voice.]

That displeases the talking tree of B'lire. Not a single campfire song about me? Leaf it to them to mess this up. [The bad pun-telling tree of B'lire. She shakes a nearby branch to show her fury. And also, to point out her location though she imagines he's already clocked it.]
Edited 2019-03-13 14:50 (UTC)
brooklyn_boy: (Serious)

[personal profile] brooklyn_boy 2019-03-13 04:24 pm (UTC)(link)
Steve just about starts punching his own bag when he can hear the telltale fabric scream he knows so well. He doesn't have to look to know the bag succumbed to serum-powered punches. Steve regularly stacks a few of his up on bad days to save him time between replacements.

Knowing Bucky is in the gym means he's got four in a pyramid beside him.

Steve turns for a second and makes a decision. The top bag gets hoisted onto his shoulder and flopped off to the side of where Bucky is working out. Feral cat being offered a bowl of milk, his mind supplies before Steve banishes it. Fucking Vision.

"You alright?" He sees the rolling and besides, he feels like he needs to say something. "I can swap 'em if you need?"
outstandingbalance: by famira (pic#11905775)

[personal profile] outstandingbalance 2019-03-13 04:30 pm (UTC)(link)
"You think so?" Not exactly high praise, though she can tell it doesn't come from a place of contempt. She can't blame him for not knowing what to say. Not like having opinions was something Hydra encouraged in its weapons. "Do you know its history?"
theladyofwinterfell: (and who is the knife)

[personal profile] theladyofwinterfell 2019-03-13 09:40 pm (UTC)(link)
Sansa knows that blood and viscera are hard to get out of wools and silks but she's willing to risk it to learn this. She knows it's knowledge she needs and, as the Citadel says, all knowledge is worth having. This is more necessary than most if they're going to survive the winter to come.

"I've figured out where to strike to get a kill," Sansa says. It's cool now and calm, not the way she'd have said it a few moons ago. "Heart, jugular - avoid the belly as it takes too long. I suppose the same applies when hunting beasts."
passingthrough: (Smirk - Playful)

[personal profile] passingthrough 2019-03-14 03:43 am (UTC)(link)
Yes, be wary. I'm a Douglas Fir-ious. [The tree is nothing like a Douglas Fir.] But my bark is worse than my bite. How many more puns are you going to take before you stop me?

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