James Buchanan "Bucky" Barnes | ɹǝᴉploS ɹǝʇuᴉM ǝɥ┴ (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sinistral) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
revivalproject2022-06-25 11:32 pm
sinistral) wrote in revivalproject2022-06-25 11:32 pm
07 | We All Have a Face That We Hide Away Forever
WHO: the Soldier/the Winter Soldier (sinistral) and you
WHERE: Sh'Ka
WHAT: after helping Beck escape, the Winter Soldier was sent off-world for a mission; he's physically returned but mentally there's still a battle...
WHEN: conspicuously after Calibrations ended, for which he was conspicuously absent
WARNINGS: possible violence (please don't make me write a fight scene I'm not good at it); possible mention of violence; possible mention of mind control and actions performed without consent
SH'KA
→ Δ; Delta; Closed to Billy;
→ η; Eta; Closed to Reeve;
→ ε; Epsilon; Open;
→ μ; Mu; Wildcard;
sinistral) and youWHERE: Sh'Ka
WHAT: after helping Beck escape, the Winter Soldier was sent off-world for a mission; he's physically returned but mentally there's still a battle...
WHEN: conspicuously after Calibrations ended, for which he was conspicuously absent
WARNINGS: possible violence (please don't make me write a fight scene I'm not good at it); possible mention of violence; possible mention of mind control and actions performed without consent
SH'KA
→ Δ; Delta; Closed to Billy;
Sh'Ka. Or what appeared to be Sh'Ka; the Winter Soldier recognized that his current location didn't match his previous, but in trying to catalog the details of that previous locale he found he couldn't clearly capture them. It frustrated him, one of the few emotions he could feel. He needed to focus though; he didn't know how much time had elapsed since his last visit, or even since the start of the day. His main concern was shelter: hidden and defensible, and unknown to others.
He had equipment here in the city. Supplies. None of that could be trusted. No one—
He rolled his shoulder, the motion causing a ripple in the plating all down his left arm, and rose from his crouch behind a half-collapsed wall. He could still manage for half a day without sustenance, making the search for a place to shelter the highest priority. Enough of Sh'Ka was rock and rubble, grey and green and red—
Red red blood on the rocks on his hands on his face and it should be warm but all he knows is cold, cold, cold—
Red but not blood; the flutter of fabric on a breeze and a body wrapped in (impossible!) stars, a figure so viscerally real it hit the Winter Soldier as a physical blow.
He had equipment here in the city. Supplies. None of that could be trusted. No one—
He rolled his shoulder, the motion causing a ripple in the plating all down his left arm, and rose from his crouch behind a half-collapsed wall. He could still manage for half a day without sustenance, making the search for a place to shelter the highest priority. Enough of Sh'Ka was rock and rubble, grey and green and red—
Red red blood on the rocks on his hands on his face and it should be warm but all he knows is cold, cold, cold—
Red but not blood; the flutter of fabric on a breeze and a body wrapped in (impossible!) stars, a figure so viscerally real it hit the Winter Soldier as a physical blow.
→ η; Eta; Closed to Reeve;
The quiet hours of twilight and predawn, with the night in between, felt the most comfortable to him. The days seemed too unnaturally long; the alien sun had too piercing a gaze. Night harbored the dangerous things; he belonged to it.
Night let him slip into the greenhouse when he needed food. Not enough for his metabolism to truly be satisfied but enough to remain functional, especially supplemented with what he could gather from the trees. The big house seemed to hold some amenities but too much in activity; he ruled it out quickly. That left the fountain— or—
He sat on the lip surrounding the basin. The fountain, or something related to it, was important for some reason. He didn't know why, or to what part of him it pertained. Water, but that didn't feel right. Power, but again it didn't resonate completely. Something of a sense of watching, but also of physical work. That he really couldn't reconcile.
Too soon he finished eating the meager meal — and not soon enough, as true morning was nearly upon him. He still needed to secure a place to rest, and to perhaps attempt to sort out the new confusion sitting by the broken fountain caused.
Night let him slip into the greenhouse when he needed food. Not enough for his metabolism to truly be satisfied but enough to remain functional, especially supplemented with what he could gather from the trees. The big house seemed to hold some amenities but too much in activity; he ruled it out quickly. That left the fountain— or—
He sat on the lip surrounding the basin. The fountain, or something related to it, was important for some reason. He didn't know why, or to what part of him it pertained. Water, but that didn't feel right. Power, but again it didn't resonate completely. Something of a sense of watching, but also of physical work. That he really couldn't reconcile.
Too soon he finished eating the meager meal — and not soon enough, as true morning was nearly upon him. He still needed to secure a place to rest, and to perhaps attempt to sort out the new confusion sitting by the broken fountain caused.
→ ε; Epsilon; Open;
It didn't matter which personality had control; both were highly skilled in moving covertly and Sh'Ka's landscape certainly aided that pursuit. When the Soldier didn't want to be found he could evade most people, and right now he didn't want to be found.
Except—
He shook his head and pressed his right hand to his temple; the migraine from this morning showed no signs of abating. Add to that the feeling (paranoia?) of being followed; he committed to a circuitous route to his temporary shelter and already cursed the distance. But a straight path would lead his pursuit right to—
Boots on pavement; harsh voices; crisp winter air. Training exercise, training exercise, training accident——
A sharp inhale; the exhale a curse emphatically muttered in Russian. Look right, look left, step—
And whirl around, knife in hand to meet the threat.
Except—
He shook his head and pressed his right hand to his temple; the migraine from this morning showed no signs of abating. Add to that the feeling (paranoia?) of being followed; he committed to a circuitous route to his temporary shelter and already cursed the distance. But a straight path would lead his pursuit right to—
Boots on pavement; harsh voices; crisp winter air. Training exercise, training exercise, training accident——
A sharp inhale; the exhale a curse emphatically muttered in Russian. Look right, look left, step—
And whirl around, knife in hand to meet the threat.
→ μ; Mu; Wildcard;
Open to other ideas. Please reach out to me at ![[plurk.com profile]](https://plurk.com/favicon.ico)
sometimesamuse or via PM for plotting needs. As always while I write starters in prose I'm happy to match brackets if that's your preference.
(frozen comment) no subject
He shrugged his left shoulder, finally sheathing the knife. The less said about it, the better. Perhaps the Agrii already had full use of that part of Atroma technology. But if they didn't, best not give them ideas.
"Don't know. Can't remember." Like being wiped, which was telling enough on his book.
(frozen comment) no subject
"...how's your head?" he asked finally, remembering the ache that seemed so much worse in that confusing middle period than it ever did when he was fully under a handler's thumb. "How's it really?" he added with a pointed glance, not looking for a report of functionality. They both knew he was trained to remain operational through far worse pain than this.
He fished a container of pills from a pocket and tossed them Soldat's way. They wouldn't do much for a super soldier, but even a small relief was something.
(frozen comment) no subject
He scowled at the question and its follow up; the downsides of meeting oneself definitely included pointed questions and a certain inability to get away with non answers. How was his head indeed? A regular party in the brain. "It's not a migraine yet." Yet was the operative word; it no doubt would become one eventually. He was used to it.
He caught the pill bottle and immediately tossed it back, unwilling to take his chances. He'd rather deal with the pain, than risk a drug that could have been tampered with.
(frozen comment) no subject
"I'm the only one who's been using them," he noted. Though he drank too, where Soldat didn't seem to, both exerting their bodily control in different ways. Soldat's might be healthier in a lot of ways, but Bucky really didn't want to start examining that just now.
"Do I need to go catch a fish or something from the river to get you to eat too, or do you trust me that much?" he asked sarcastically.
(frozen comment) no subject
"Do you really think me that incapable?" He could handle his basic needs, but sometimes things like food or sleep weren't as important as finding a defensible corner and tucking himself away for the fight between his brain and the other part of his brain. Explaining that to anyone else however? That part didn't come easily at all, even if he wanted to.
(frozen comment) no subject
God, this was like an uncomfortable therapy exercise, acknowledging all these pieces of him and seeing how they worked from the other side.
(frozen comment) no subject