James 'Bucky' Barnes (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
thestaremaster) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
revivalproject2022-05-09 11:29 am
thestaremaster) wrote in revivalproject2022-05-09 11:29 am
IT’S A CONDITION OF YOUR PARDON.
WHO: Bucky Barnes, OTA
WHERE: Calibrations
WHAT: Calibrations
WHEN: Calibrations
WARNINGS: All of them, PTSD, Graphic violence, torture, amputation, brain washing, gaslighting
The wall opposite the one you walk in through is trees. Birch trees. Wallpaper, maybe a large painting…it doesn’t really matter. It’s peaceful. Through vertical blinds you can see glimpses of the city outside, warm light streaming through.
It’s an office room, cozied up a little with these touches, but still formal in the way all these spaces are. This is a room where secrets are spilled and notes are taken, until the hour ticks away and you’re released back into the world outside. Which makes it an appropriate enough space for this.
There’s a white couch against the wall, and Bucky sit’s there stiffly, gloved hands folded in his lap. In front of his is a black leather chair waiting empty, a notebook perched on the arm of it.
If you care to take a seat and flip through the book you’ll see a few notes to help prompt you.
Rule 1.
Rule 2.
Rule 3.
Of course, you could pose your own questions if there’s something else you’re interested in knowing. Or, if you’re not so interested in playing the roll of doctor as you are in investigating, you might find a different book, red with a star on it, hidden away in a filing cabinet. There are some strange words written inside.
WHERE: Calibrations
WHAT: Calibrations
WHEN: Calibrations
WARNINGS: All of them, PTSD, Graphic violence, torture, amputation, brain washing, gaslighting
The wall opposite the one you walk in through is trees. Birch trees. Wallpaper, maybe a large painting…it doesn’t really matter. It’s peaceful. Through vertical blinds you can see glimpses of the city outside, warm light streaming through.
It’s an office room, cozied up a little with these touches, but still formal in the way all these spaces are. This is a room where secrets are spilled and notes are taken, until the hour ticks away and you’re released back into the world outside. Which makes it an appropriate enough space for this.
There’s a white couch against the wall, and Bucky sit’s there stiffly, gloved hands folded in his lap. In front of his is a black leather chair waiting empty, a notebook perched on the arm of it.
If you care to take a seat and flip through the book you’ll see a few notes to help prompt you.
Rule 1.
Rule 2.
Rule 3.
Of course, you could pose your own questions if there’s something else you’re interested in knowing. Or, if you’re not so interested in playing the roll of doctor as you are in investigating, you might find a different book, red with a star on it, hidden away in a filing cabinet. There are some strange words written inside.
no subject
"No anchovies," he calls out.
no subject
"I feel like I've not ordered a pizza in forever- what's the standard, two large pizzas, the works minus anchovies?"
no subject
There's a cup full of various pens and pencils, the sort you get at trade fairs with random pharmaceutical companies names on them.
no subject
It really will be just pizza fun unless he wants a memory <3
They could do this. They could force them into this mental space, but they couldn't dictate what they did in here. They could rebel with pizza and take a break from dredging up the past.
I'm totally fine with pizza party, Cayde's just kinda wary about it but he's also testing boundaries
"Know what, make that four large pizzas, hold the anchovies, everything else, all good. Okay? Great, lookin' forward to it." He hangs up the phone and lets himself sprawl into the chair there, swinging his feet up onto the desk as he leans back.
"And pizza is go!"
no subject
"30 mins or it's free," Bucky quotes at him with a small smirk, "We should get a taste at least before it ends."
no subject