riverviewlogs | missing pieces

Entry tags:

missing pieces

who: Bucky Barnes (MCU), Ivar Ragnarsson, Dick Grayson, Stephen Strange, Ellie, Tony Stark, Suigetsu Houzuki, Clark Kent, Fatima Merali, Eichi Tenshouin, Shai Ebbisaryn, Steve Rogers (MCU), Líadan Ní Donnabháin, Bucky Barnes (616), and Jonathan Kent
what: Various prompts
when: April 1st/2nd
where: Abandoned city
warnings: Probable violence
note: Though this log has closed prompts, if you would like to do anything with Bucky please just send me a PM or hit me up at

bibbety and I will be more than happy to add in a prompt for you!

[i: Sparring partners; CLOSED to Ivar Ragnarsson]

[Bucky spends a lot of his time out in the abandoned city, even sleeping there some nights when the feel of people all around him becomes a bit too much to handle. He's doing better than he was when he arrived here, he's even spoken to Steve fairly courteously once, but he's got a long way to go and he still prefers to do it alone.

Which is why he's out in the city training himself, running between buildings, jumping and vaulting various debris fields, and occasionally testing his acrobatic skills with flips and kicks off one surface to catch hold of another. What he's not expecting, after jumping one particularly large gap between rooftops, is to land by a man on the ground.

At first he thinks it's someone hurt, until he recognises the man that fought him when he was recently arrived and remembers how he couldn't use his legs. It's pretty impressive that he got up this far, let alone out here to the abandoned city in the first place.]

You okay?

[He was just going to go, but maybe Ivar really is hurt and can't get down.]

[ii: Meals on wheels; CLOSED to Dick Grayson]

[There have been a couple of times while Bucky has been skulking around the city that he's seen the man he doused in yoghurt, still patrolling in that costume. He knows his name now, made sure to look it up based on the usernames and the apartment - Dick Grayson. Not that he plans on using it, he just likes to have all the information, it can be the difference between life and death.

But what he doesn't realise is that he's the one that's been spotted tonight by Dick, as he slips out into the abandoned city and turns into one of the nearby ruins. A sleeping bag and rucksack are already stashed there, along with a surprising array of weapons. He slides into his sleeping bag, sat up against the wall, completely unaware that he's not alone... for now.]

[iii: Magic and Mayhem; CLOSED to Stephen Strange]

[Bucky has very few things that he would count as personal possessions. His weapons, clothes, and sleeping bag were all just tools that could pass in and out of his ownership without him caring that much. Though he would never like to be unarmed, he could always find more weapons if he lost these.

But he had a book that was precious to him. Just a tattered little notebook which was a quarter full of news clippings of all the various Avengers, some information both bought and stolen from the Smithsonian gift shop, and several choppy paragraphs in his own handwriting. Notes on information he's found out, memories that have resurfaced, that sort of thing.

He's sitting on the rooftop of one of the buildings in the main city, riffling through the book, when a sudden gust of wind catches it and sends it out of his hands and over the side to land at either at the feet of, or directly on the head of, the poor unsuspecting person walking by.

Sorry, Stephen.]

[iv: Dance lessons; CLOSED to Ellie]

[The flower festival isn't exactly Bucky's natural habitat, but he keeps finding himself drawn to the dance lessons and performances in the various open park areas. He doesn't really remember dancing himself, it's definitely not something the Soldier has ever done even though he has the dexterity for it, but it feels familiar.

So even though spending so much time in the crowds goes against a lot of his instincts, Bucky keeps finding himself back in the throng.

It's where he is that morning, sat with his back against a tree to make it slightly harder to sneak up on him from behind, intently watching a couple perform an exhibition piece in the style of swing dancing. These are the ones he likes the best, the ones that feel the most oddly familiar, and he has an almost peaceful expression as he watches.]

[v: Running into you; CLOSED to Tony Stark]

[Bucky spends a lot of his time either hiding, skulking in the shadows, or moving at a carefully steady pace through crowds so as not to attract attention. But sometimes he just needs to blow off steam, sometimes he just needs to burn through the excess energy that the bastardised serum gives him.

Which is why he's running.

He's at least chosen a time when he doesn't think anyone else will be near the outskirts of the city, and he's running down side streets and back alleys rather than the main streets, but he is pushing himself all out. Running faster than a normal human could, vaulting trash cans and practically skidding around corners.

It's probably lucky he hasn't crashed into anyone before now...]

[vi: Festival Fun; CLOSED to Suigetsu Houzuki]

[This festival, much like the last festival, is a good place to gather free food. The stall vendors are often so busy that they don't notice a little something here or there going missing, and lots of people end up buying food that they can't finish and just abandon. Which is why one suspicious hobo type is now casually wandering the picnic area, stooping as if to tie his shoe every so often when he's really stealing leftovers.

Don't mind him...]

[vii: A serious talk; CLOSED to Clark Kent]

[See the comments for starter.]

[viii: Kites and trees; SEMI-OPEN to anyone plotted with on the CR meme]

[Bucky has spent most of the flower festival skirting the main events, on the fringes of the crowds, or watching from a distance. But some things keep drawing him in deeper, like leftovers at the picnic area, or dance contests, or the smell of food.

To anyone wandering, he can be found in the following places:

i) staring into the window of a bakery as if the pies on display have the answer to life.
ii) up a tree in the park, watching a dance demonstration like a skulking creeper
iii) flying a kite that he got pressured into buying, sitting on the grass in a relatively secluded area. If this kite accidentally drops and wraps around your character, more's the pity.]

[ix: Football; CLOSED to Jonathan Kent]

[Bucky doesn't look like someone who's in the park to play a nice game of football... for one, he doesn't actually have a football. He's also skulking under the trees, wearing a long hoodie and gloves despite the warm weather, and is looking around at everyone entering the park as if they might be a threat to him.

But he said he wanted to do this, so he's here.

Even after he got the message from Clark that said he had somewhere else to be that morning, he was sorry, but hopefully Bucky could still have fun with Jonathan. Which was why Bucky was skulking out of place, waiting for a kid and hoping that said kid brought a football with him. Or they might be kind of scuppered.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Despite how slow he was rendered by necessity, that hadn't stopped Ivar from exploring as he saw fit. He just went about it usually in a different way than most people. The abandoned city had proved to be a particular challenge. The terrain there was too rocky for his wheelchair to navigate successfully.

So he'd been forced to leave it behind, falling back to his old standby of crawling to get where he wanted to go. Ivar didn't mind. It was how he'd been getting around his whole life. Exploring the city was going to take more than a single day, but Ivar was nothing if not patient.

What he wasn't expecting was the half-feral man he'd gotten into a fight with to be there as well. Ivar looks up at Bucky with a grin. He'd rather liked the nameless assassin and the challenge he'd given the Viking warrior.]

Not that I see why you care, but I'm fine.

[His standard answer no matter how he was feeling, but this time, it's the truth.]

[Okay, well then, the grin and the response seem pretty genuine so he doesn't have to worry about just turning around and carrying on his way. Except that he knows there are a lot of monsters around here, and he won't forgive himself if someone he has seen out here dies because of a lack of support.

So he just stays stood where he is, posture tense, but not about to leave.]

What are you doing out here?

[Ivar's not afraid of monsters. He's on the Perimeter Guard and he's spent the better part of the blackouts dealing with nasty little beasties trying to make their way through. If anything, the monsters should be afraid of him.]

Originally, exploring. Now I'm thinking it's a good place to train my horse. It can't burn down much around here.

[Yes, he has a fire horse now. Isn't that the dream of every sixteen year old?]

[There's so much about that sentence that makes no sense. How did he get a horse here? Does he mean a literal one? Where's he keeping it? Why would it burn anything down?]

Show me.

[Seems the safest way of finding out.]

Alright. Just don't make any sudden movements. He's still a little scared.

[Ivar pulls out two things. First, the Pokeball attached to his belt. Secondly, a pair of magic fireproof gloves that Dr. Strange enchanted for him. Yes, this is what his life has become. He taps the center of the Pokeball and tosses it.]

Come out, Skinfaxi.

[There's a blinding flash of light that condenses into the shape of a foal. When the light dims, there's a long-legged Ponyta colt standing there with a flaming mane and tail. It takes one look at Bucky and immediately becomes agitated, whinnying and dancing back and forth. Ivar lays a hand on his muzzle, talking softly to it.]

Calm down. It's alright. See? He won't hurt you. Now be nice.

[Bucky has no idea what's going on when Ivar draws the colourful ball from his belt, and that confusion only melts into tension when a horse-- no, when a flaming horse appears out of nowhere. It's probably no wonder that the Ponyta is so scared, considering that Bucky likely looks like he's about to punch it.]

The hell is that?

[He stands his ground, trying to seem less threatening but not managing it very well.]

Where did it come from?

[Ivar continues to stroke his Ponyta's muzzle and neck, the gloves preventing any discomfort as his hands move over the flaming mane.]

It's a creature called a Ponyta. I caught him in the forest. These creatures, Pokemon, came through the portal from one of the worlds. They're friendly enough if you can tame them. Now stop looking at him like that.

[Skinfaxi is picking up on that tension and doesn't like it.]

[He's already seen a lot of weird things in his life, and especially weird things here, but for some reason a flaming horse just seems a step too far. He's never heard of Pokemon before, and he's definitely not convinced that it's tame, but he does try to make his expression more neutral.]

How did it fit inside that ball?

[Because it sure as hell wouldn't fit in there now.]

I don't know. It just does.

[Being a superstitious sort and believing in stories of the Norse gods, Ivar had come to accept that there were magical items that had no good explanation. Having a large creature fit into a small ball wasn't much of a surprise.

Skinfaxi began to calm, picking up on Ivar's temperament. It turns towards Bucky, ears pricking forward in curiosity.]

[He's not so superstitious, but he does accept that there are a lot of things in the world that he doesn't understand. It's not something he's comfortable with and he'll have to do a lot more research on these weird creatures, but for now he'll just nod and let it go.

He extends his gloved left hand out towards the Ponyta.]

Can you ride it?

[Skinfaxi leans his long neck forward, snuffling his wide nostrils to take in Bucky's scent. The flames of his mane flicker back and forth, but he doesn't make any attempt to burn either of the men.]

No. He's too small and I can't grasp long enough with my knees to stay on. But when he gets bigger, I'm going to train him to pull my chariot.

[Of course he has a war chariot. Why? Well, the real question would be why not?]

[He doesn't question how Ivar knows it will grow bigger, or even how he knew how to capture it. If they came from someone else's world, then this person must be giving out the information needed.

Bucky lets his gloved hand settle on the back of Skinfaxi's neck, the smell of singing leather in the air before he removes it again.]

What's actually wrong with your legs?

[Is it against societal rules to ask that sort of question? He can't really remember.]

[For a moment, he plans to say something about Bucky's hand. Being burned should have caused a reaction even in the most stoic man, but he doesn't react. Something's not right there.

But his question drives everything else out of Ivar's head. He's the first one here to actually ask. And for a moment, Ivar is filled with anger, having heard that question so many times in his life. But there's no malice he hears, not in the same mocking way the Vikings of his home would ask. Rather than telling him to shut up and mind his own business, Ivar gives a long sigh, and explains it in frank terms.]

Something's wrong with the bones. They were twisted from the moment I was born. I've never been able to put any weight on them, so the muscles didn't develop properly.

[Had he been born in the twentieth century, it would have been clear to any doctor that he had brittle bone syndrome. One of his roommates had already been able to tell, though he'd yet to inform Ivar.]

[He's never really heard of brittle bone disease, but he remembers some kid when he was in school that used to get hurt more easily than others. Hell, even Steve had got hurt more easily than others considering his laundry list of ailments, and he had met one or two people who had been in a wheelchair since birth.

So he doesn't question it further, he just nods.]

Your upper body seems fine.

[Or so it had seemed when they fought, which is the closest he'll come to complimenting Ivar on his fighting skills despite his disability.]

How did you get all the way out here?

It is fine. It's only my legs that don't work right.

[In that respect, he's been fortunate. His mind and upper body were as clever and strong as anyone else's. At the question, he shrugs.]

Crawling, mostly.

[It was how he's gotten around most of his life. Only when he came here did he get a wheelchair.]

[He nods again, no judgement behind it. He's hardly one to judge someone who's found a way around their disability and kept going.]

Have you thought about things like braces?

[He doesn't know if leg braces would help, or if even with those he'd still be incapable of walking.]

I've tried before. But I would have to be able to actually put weight on my legs for them to work.

[The bones were too fragile for the braces to work effectively and trying to put too much pressure on them had caused painful fractures in the past before. Ivar had given up on trying to use them entirely after his father Ragnar gave him a much needed reality check when they'd traveled to England.]

[He's not sure why he does it, but he sits down on the rooftop a short distance from Ivar, no longer any moment from running.]

Did I hurt you when we fought?

[He might have been a bit gentler if he'd known his legs were so brittle.]

[Skinfaxi, no longer interested in the pair of them, begins to explore the rooftop, sniffing over things as his mane and tail continue to burn brightly. Ivar keeps an eye on him while he talks.]

There wasn't a mark on me that wouldn't come off eventually.

[He fixes Bucky with a bright gaze.]

Why didn't your hand burn when you touched Skinfaxi? He only lets people he trusts touch him without burning them.

[That's the sort of answer that he might give, the sort of answer that comes from someone used to getting injured and then just getting on with it. It's not something he's going to press, it's obvious Ivar isn't badly hurt.]

Maybe he trusts me.

[Even he knows that isn't going to fly. So after a moment, he pulls off his left glove to reveal the metal hand beneath. Perhaps it's because Ivar has been so open about his own disabilities today, but Bucky feels like he's earned at least this small answer.]

[He watches as Bucky shows off his metal hand. He doesn't look all that surprised at seeing such an advanced prosthetic.]

Huh. My roommate has a hand like that...[Ivar thinks for a moment and one can almost see him putting puzzle pieces together in his head.] ...almost exactly like that.

[There's another question in his eyes.] Care to explain?

[His expression shutters into something very carefully neutral, and he takes a half step back from Ivar.]

No.

[He doesn't care to explain.]

[He should have known that was going to happen. Ivar watches as Bucky's face closes up like a shade being drawn over a window.]

You're a lot of help.

[He uses the nearest object to him, which happens to be Skinfaxi's forelegs, to hold onto while he moves his legs around into a sitting position.]

I'll just ask him instead.

[That's a good tactic to take, and Bucky looks half like he might just kick Ivar off the roof instead of explain.]

He's another me, or I'm another him. Different worlds.

[He knows that look very well. He's gotten it often enough at home from his brothers. But he doesn't care. Answers are more important than getting along with the taciturn assassin.]

And here I was just getting used to the idea of different worlds.

[He looks surprised. Being from the past and learning there are multiple worlds he can handle. Learning there's multiple versions of the same person is a bit harder to wrap his head around.]

I

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