revivalproject | It Means I Remember

WHO: Bucky Barnes (Entity: The Vast), OTA
WHERE: The Hellscape of the Vast, and the Hellscape of the Stranger
WHAT: Hunting, Being Hunted, taking shelter together?
WHEN: Apocalypse Event
WARNINGS: TBD

The Vast

Bucky felt weaker than he had in decades. And hungry. A sort of hunger he'd seen in the faces of those who joined HYDRA for the thrill, who yearned for that power and took pleasure in inflicting pain and fear. The Winter Soldier took no pleasure in his work. He was tool. But in this moment? Bucky wanted that fear like it was oxygen. And it spurred him on despite how heavy his arm felt, searching this vast space for someone, anyone- to feed on.

Far, far overhead the lights flickers and grew brighter as he searched. Gravity seemed to stop exerting it's will over him as he fell sideways through the aisles in his search.

The Stranger

This place made Bucky's chest feel tight, on guard as he tried to make his way through the house. His jaw was tight as he tried to ignore figures that looked far too familiar. Figures he'd loved. Figures he'd hurt. Figures he'd killed. There had to be a way out of here. Or someone else made of flesh and blood.

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Steve didn't fear heights. He didn't fear anything, really. Or at least he didn't think he did. Until he'd walked into this strange, ozone-reeking store. And suddenly then he wasn't all that sure.

There were giants here. People so much bigger than him who didn't respond no matter how much he called. Not that this was different from his normal life, of course. Being small and insignificant was pretty par for the course. But this? This was so much worse. This whole place was giving Steve the feeling of being a bug. Being lost and alone in a way that didn't even matter to anyone. He walked along the aisles, searching for an exit or for someone else that might be able to help.

If they even wanted to, that is.

It would be much better if anyone here was an actual person. At first sight of them, Tony had frozen, watching anxiously in the low light for any movement or indication like they were going to attack, like so many others had since this had begun. They were just as still, watching him in turn, and feeling no fear that Tony could sense. Not even as he reached out to inquisitively touch one of their blank faces, which molded easily, then slipped and started to drip under his warm touch. His hand went back to his own chest, the burning pit of it ringed with built up and dripping wax of red and gold that slipped down his stomach when his heart raced. Was this what he was becoming?

The rattle of movement behind him had him turning sharply, only to see more of those frozen figures, blank, waxy faces admitting nothing but leaned just a little too far forward, arms starting to raise. It was when he looked back to the one that he had touched that he realized it had started to reach for him, too, and he backed away quickly. He had to get somewhere where he could keep watch.