missing pieces

[advanced]

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.]

Comments

ii

[fingerstripes]

[ Tracking a man with no trail to follow is a tall order, and if he's honest with himself the fact that he's managed it at all this time probably comes down more to luck than anything else. But if he's learned anything at all from a ten minute standoff over a carton of yogurt in his living room, it's that he needs to press every advantage he can get here.

For now he's holding onto this one, perched over the rucksack, that impressive stash of weapons. The meager possessions of someone with probably nothing else to call his own. As much as turnabout might be fair play, there's something there, as he watches the man curl into his sleeping bag, that makes him want to avert his eyes. Something that makes his heart pull at the idea of taking even a little of that away. Violating whatever sense of safety, or privacy, he has in this place.

But he has a few options. A few minutes to decide how to play this. Move too fast and he'll probably drive him to make another run for it. Too slow and he'll be running the risk of escalating the situation past the point where he can control it. Either way, it's a good bet that he won't have long to make a case for investing in a longer chat than before.

There's nothing for it. He'll either accomplish something tonight, or he won't. He takes a breath, balances the wrapped bundle of food in one arm, and shifts his weight against the line holding him, just enough for the light to fall across his lenses. Unobtrusive, but anyone observant will see the glint. ]

Knock knock. [ And he knocks politely, rapping his free knuckles twice on a protruding edge of ruined wall. Then he waves from his upside down position. ]

[advanced]

[He's never wholly relaxed, there's always a part of him waiting for an ambush or for his enemies to find him. But he had thought he was alone here, and so even while he's reacting to the sudden intrusion on instinct, he's feeling a sink of disappointment that his safety has been shattered again.

He's got a gun in his left hand, glove and long sleeve concealing the metal still, aimed directly at that glint of the lenses, before Dick has even finished pretending to knock like an invited guest.]

Grayson.

[The recognition doesn't make him relax at all, nor lower his weapon.]

[fingerstripes]

Sorry to drop in late. [ Letting on that the name thing gets to him at all is as good as handing this man another loaded gun. Still, it's a sharp little twist of the knife. A reminder of what had been taken away from him that night. And there it sits under his skin like ice.

He flashes a disarming smile instead, dropping down to the ground with an elaborate little flip. And there he stays, hands up. Weaponless. He may be setting the opening terms, but he owes it to him to leave the boundaries in his court.

Well, a few of them anyway. ]

I would've called ahead, but it turns out "tall, dark, and armed" isn't exactly a winning search term these days.

[advanced]

[The gun tracks down with Dick's movements, making sure not to give him any opening to attack. Not that he seems to be itching for a fight, but Bucky can't think of any other reason that a man he'd doused in yoghurt and then attacked would be seeking him out.]

Why are you here?

[His gaze glances quickly to the left, making sure the other exit is free in case he needs to make a quick getaway.]

[fingerstripes]

I'm not here to fight. [ Its occurring to him a little late that he hasn't really made that clear.

He sets the bundle down and kneels beside it, opening the knapsack to show off a small cooler, neatly packed with ice, and a few small containers of yogurt. ]

I know not everyone likes the fruity kind, so there's a selection.

And a few staples. Non-perishable. [ That's what the rest of the bag is for. ]

[advanced]

[What...?

He stares down at the yogurt for a few moments in complete confusion, before he slowly slips the gun back into concealment. It's not a total welcome, but at least it's an offer of ceasefire for now.]

Why did you bring me these?

[He tracked Bucky all the way out here to give him some food?]

[fingerstripes]

[ Because he needs to know something about a man holding the means to tear his world apart in a second. Because there's a story here when someone with this kind of strength is left to wander the streets alone, stealing for food. Because of the look on his face when he'd come out and admitted it.

Dick says nothing for a long moment. ]

I was hoping we could talk.

...But honestly, I'm not making the offer contingent on that.

Or on anything.

[ To make the point, he leaves the bag on the ground and then steps back. ]

[advanced]

[There's nothing about this situation that makes sense to him. Not unless Dick has come with poisoned food; after all, a dead man doesn't tell tales about what he's seen to others.

But if this really is just an offer of food given kindly, then would it be the worst thing to give some small amount of conversation in return? He's starved for human contact, even if he pretends to himself that he's not, which is why he eventually gives the smallest nod.]

Sit down. Eat that one.

[He points to one of the yogurts at random.]

If it's safe, we'll talk.

[fingerstripes]

Not a strawberry almond fan, huh?

[ But it's not an instinct he can argue with. He grabs the offending yogurt and sits obediently on a ruined parapet, popping a travel sized spoon out of a compartment in his gauntlet before digging in. It's not really an unwelcome detour; it's been a long, exhausting night, and he's hungry as hell. ]

[advanced]

[Bucky watches him closely for any sign of hesitation but there isn't any, and it's obvious after a moment that the yogurt really is just yogurt. He pulls the bag towards himself and picks out one of his own, peeling back the lid and tipping it up to swallow a mouthful.]

You've come to make sure I haven't told anyone who you are, right?

[fingerstripes]

I'm thinking if you were planning to sell it to the Review I would've made the front page a while ago.

[ And there's what he'd forgotten to pack. A little chagrined, he retrieves another plastic spoon, extending it out across the divide.

Then: ]

There a name you're willing to offer in exchange? [ Willing. ]

[advanced]

[He reaches out to take the spoon after a moment, only offering a small shrug.]

It doesn't matter what you call me.

[He's never going to give his real name.]

I'm not going to tell anyone.

[fingerstripes]

[ It wasn't at all what he'd asked for. But for a moment it cracks something. His expression shifts, and he has to look away quickly before it turns into something like gratitude. Handing over another vulnerability is the wrong move while they're establishing...

Whatever. Whatever it is they're establishing. ]

...Thanks. [ He hides it behind yogurt. ]

I won't ask again for yours.

[advanced]

[He's not entirely sure why he wants to hide, but Bucky is hardly someone to judge anyone for wanting to pretend they're not who they really are. He nods, but there's a small frown of confusion at his brow.]

What did you want to talk to me about?

[If it wasn't keeping quiet, then why come all the way out here with this food?]

[fingerstripes]

Well, I was hoping to give you an alternative to breaking and entering. [ He might as well be honest there.

But there's more to it than that too. A pause: ]

...Maybe you're right that I can't stop you. But I'm not the only one here who might try.

[advanced]

[He can't tell if the offer is kindly meant, or as a threat for other people that Dick might try to set on him if he doesn't stop.]

I can't take your alternative.

[Maybe this once, sure, but a regular arrangement would be too dangerous. He'd have to give out his position, or he'd be opening himself up to all sorts of traps down the line, and that's not something he can do.]

I can handle myself.

[fingerstripes]

Yeah. Thought you might say that.

[ And he's quiet for a moment. He swallows another mouthful of yogurt. ]

...So I have one burning question.

-Uh, not about that.

[advanced]

[He raises an eyebrow, wary but not ready to flee again just yet.]

What is it?

[He's not saying he'll answer, but he'll at least hear it out.]

[fingerstripes]

Before I came out with the taser. When I had you tied but not knocked out. [ He's studying him now, expression serious. ]

I got the feeling you were holding back.

[advanced]

[His brow furrows slightly, but he nods rather than denying it.]

I didn't want to hurt you unless I had to.

[fingerstripes]

Why not? [ Curious, without judgement. ]

[advanced]

Did you want me to hurt you?

[It's definitely not an answer, more a warning not to push it.]

[fingerstripes]

No. Not, uh- exactly what I was getting at.

[ Probably it's the response he should have expected. And really, that's all he needs to know. ]

But I appreciate the consideration.

[advanced]

I don't want to fight anyone.

[It's probably the first thing that he's volunteered without being prodded into it, but it was what Dick was getting at.]

You weren't supposed to come back and catch me taking the food.

[fingerstripes]

Yeah. I figured that. [ His eyes flick down for a moment. The mask covers some of his expression, but the tightening around his mouth is unmistakable. ]

I don't really make a habit of leaving the home front undefended.